I’m Not a Doctor
Please forgive me for the randomness of this post, but I just wanted to share some recent happenings in the life of Kendra:
1) A few days ago, I went to my doctor because I just couldn’t take my post-tussive vomiting in public any longer. This was my first doctor’s visit as a “doctor,” and boy was it fun. I had mentioned to my physician that I was in med school before, but apparently he had forgotten. So, I was able to experience the entire visit as a “non-medically informed patient.” It was truly enlightening. My doctor mentioned that he wanted to run “some blood tests.” Of course, I knew all about what he might be looking for, but I presented myself as ignorant. “What are you looking for?” I asked. “I’m trying to see if you have an infection in your blood,” he replied. Of course, this would literally mean that he would be performing a blood culture, but I knew that he was simply going to run a CBC, looking for leukocytosis, so I said nothing.
When the nurse was drawing my blood, she got distracted, and accidentally jerked the butterfly needle out of my vein, spraying my blood all over me, her, and the surrounding area. I simply laughed it off, even though she apologized profusely. This caused me to think back to the first few times I attempted to start an IV on a patient. Oh, what a bloody mess I made! So, I still said nothing, and smiled.
The point of this story is simply that I had quite a lot of fun being a “secret shopper” at the doctor’s office. It’s a great way to experience and appreciate what it feels like to be a “common patient” in a medical setting.
2) Today, I decided to go on a run (and ignore my sickness), and a few miles into it, a biker ahead of me blew his chain, and tumbled onto the ground. Of course, I stopped running, and walked up to him to see if he was okay. Another runner had also stopped to see if he needed help. She said, “I’m not a doctor, but can I help you?”
I was reminded of the many movies I’ve seen where a person on an airplane suddenly becomes ill, and the flight attendant runs over to the person and says, “is there a doctor on board?” I’ve secretly been waiting (dreading) for this moment to come for many years. This was my first experience as a “doctor” in a setting where a doctor was required. I thought about alerting everyone to my nouveau doctor status, but I then decided against it. What to do? Well, the biker turned out to be pretty much okay, other than a small abrasion on his knee. But the whole experience definitely made me feel woefully inadequate. Other than a quick inspection, and assuring full range of motion, there wasn’t much for me to do. I made sure he was okay, and (quite inadequately) continued on my run.
3) A few hours ago, I went on a walkabout in my neighborhood in search of a basil plant (my previous one drowned due to my negligence). I truly loved my previous neighborhood in Brooklyn (Bushwick), but I love my new neighborhood in Brooklyn (Prospect-Lefferts Gardens) for other reasons. It is predominantly inhabited by Caribbean folks. There are tons of people from Jamaica, Trinidad, Haiti, and just about every other island in the Caribbean. I love walking through my neighborhood, listening to the sounds of people chattering with their heavy Caribbean accents. Dreadlocks, the smells of incense and jerk chicken, and the sounds of island music abound. It brings me back to my days living in Dominica, and in a very interesting way, makes me nostalgic for the Caribbean beaches and island life. It never fails to bring a huge smile to my face.
Note: All the photos in this post are pictures of my new apartment. My apologies for the crappy iPhone quality.