One of her parents would lodge a toy, crayon or other slim item into a crevice of their body - between toes, in the armpit, behind the knee - Caity would diagnose it as a "slivey-sliv" (thanks to Greg for this terrific terminology), and then she would use a variety of instruments (plastic forks, stuffed animals, etc) to remove the foreign object.
Her bedside manner was eerily accurate, in spite of her lack of experience with doctors (perhaps the recent trip for the sliver removal was enough to leave a mark?) Here is just one of many, many examples of what a patient could experience under her care:
Doctor (taking notes on her pad): What's your name?
Patient: Lola.
Doctor: Let's put down "mom" for short.
Patient: Okay.
Doctor: What's your last name?
Patient: Schnauzer.
Doctor (deciding to move on): Color in this coloring book. I'll be right back.
(The doctor wanders around the room for no apparent purpose.)
Doctor (appearing with a plastic cup): Here's some coffee.
(Doctor leaves again, this time to wander around and drink her own coffee.)
(Patient grows bored.)
Doctor (from across the room): Keep coloring!
(Patient resumes her work in the coloring book. Eventually, doctor returns.)
(Doctor critically examines the object lodged in between patient's toes and abruptly yarks it out with her bare hands.)
Doctor: This isn't a slivey-sliv, this is a marker! Come back when you have a slivey-sliv!
(Patient slouches off.)
Okay, so that isn't the best example. But it's the one I jotted down notes about right after it happened, so that it could be preserved for posterity. Next up (if we're lucky): Caity becomes a plastic surgeon.

2 comments:
See? This is why you should blog more. I like to laugh.
I agree with Marie. More blogs, please!
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