The blog’s been a little quiet lately. I wish I could say it’s because my life’s been a little quite and I have nothing to report.
Sadly that is not the case. Although the nothing to report part might be true. Most of what keeps me busy these days is the mundane. The day to day of keeping all these big people doing what needs to be done and clothed and educated and ferried around from place to place.
We have had one noteworthy incident…
Eve broke her foot about a month ago, which I have mentioned. The thing is, last week’s X-Ray showed that it is not healing and the doc we were seeing suggested a specialist. He said the specialist will most likely want to do surgery to pin it.
Well, we saw the specialist yesterday. He was a nice man who was from a French speaking area of Africa originally. He was very nice and very smart and talked VERY fast in his French/African accent. He also had a person with him who he was talking too. He was telling this person everything he was doing and why. One would assume this person would be a med student, correct? Ah, that would be wrong. They must teach Doctor Arrogance 101 early in the course of study, because this NOT student had it in spades.
I was trying to explain to Eve why the Dr was telling everything to this other guy (the African Dr had stepped out and the NOT student Dr was still in the room.) I asked the NOT student if he was a med student and he looked at me sort of smugly and said in a rather exasperated tone “No. I’m not a med student, I’m a second year resident.”
I replied graciously to this annoying little upstart who was hardly older than my son, “Oh, interesting. Could you please explain to us how it all works? 4 years of college, and then what?”
He sighs but deigns to graciously educate us on the ways of medical education.
“4 years of college, 4 years of medical school and then residency. The length of residency depends on your chosen specialty. Once you’re a resident you’re considered a doctor.”
So, now you know. The little punk who was young enough to be my son was a doctor.
Sheesh I’m getting old.
So back to Eve. He put her in a cast. Not like the removable one she had been wearing. No, this is a cast cast. 4 weeks of crutches, no weight on it at all, itches you can't scratch, and plastic bags while she bathes.
It is a last ditch effort to avoid surgery, but one the African Doctor (you know, the one who was not 12) thinks will work.
I hope he’s right. I’m afraid to ask which of the 2 doctors would be performing the surgery. I don’t think I could let Doogie Howser operate on my baby, no matter how many years of residency he’s completed.
And just in case your curious, Eve chose a green cast.
Because she had the nail polish to match. That is how the mind of a pre-teen girl works.