story/poem

 ResurrectionSitting in my car with the windows rolled up in the parking lot waiting for my clinic to start. A small part of me legit thinks I might run out of air, get light headed and pass out, maybe even die.  Don ’t thousands of babies and pets cash out in locked cars every year?  Yeah, I know it ’s mostly the heat but still.  And I ’m a goddam doctor thinking nonsense like this.  People are always like, oh doctor this and doctor that and my doctor says and my doctor told me and I'm like for god's sake.  What if your doctor kept warning you about the dangers of low oxygen levels while you scarfed down Chick Fil A during your 20 minute lunch in your car at the office park?  You ’d stay the hell away.  I wouldn ’t let a guy like that come within 20 feet of me with a syringe.  Excuse me sir, kindly keep that cold ass flat diaphragm of a stethoscope off my bare chest.  This lady last night kept thanking me over and over.  Oh you saved him, thank you so much for saving him, I don ’t know how you doctors do it.  By him, she meant her bachelor older brother who had been popping naproxen on the hour for the past week to self treat his trick knee and ended up blowing a hole in his stomach that I had to patch.  I was just calling the out of state phone number listed in his chart, just due diligence stuff.  She kept praising me and going on and on, profuse as all hell.  Lady, I just sewed it shut,...
Source: Buckeye Surgeon - Category: Surgery Authors: Source Type: blogs