These days, Thursdays are my busiest day of the week. It’s the day I see all of my on treatment patients. Currently there are thirty one of them—a busy load for a radiation oncologist. Nonetheless, I have instructed my therapists that they must leave me time for lunch, and so they schedule the patients so that during a brief period during the noon hour, my nurse and I can retreat to the quiet of our offices and grab a bite to eat. Food having always been of major importance to me—it’s the high point of my day on a busy day like today. Since we have no cafeteria or vendors in our building, I usually bring something easy, like a salad, or perhaps some cottage cheese and tomatoes. I don’t usually hit the Milky Ways and peanut M and M’s until late at night, but that’s for a different story. When I do break for lunch, I can usually be found at my computer, catching up with emails, surfing Facebook, and yes, checking to see if anyone is actually reading this blog.
So there I was minding my own business, the door to my office wide open to compensate for the fact that maintenance has never succeeded in making the room cool enough to ward off my hot flashes, when a man walks into my office and says, “Is there a doctor around here?” I have not met this man before, but I assume he is one of the patients belonging to one of my colleagues who have been covering one day a week since my partner went out sick. I look around hopefully for my nurse who is nowhere in sight, and then own up. “Yes sir, I am the doctor here. I am Dr. Fielding. May I help you?” He said, “Yes, I need you to look at my rectum. I think there’s something there.” I am hoping that he has lung cancer, since I do not want to look at his rectum, or his anus during lunch. I say, “Sir, since we haven’t met, what are we treating you for?” He said, definitively, “Rectal cancer.” I see now that, as they say, the only way out is through.
So I ceremoniously put down my fork, pick up my napkin and dab at my lips, and say, “Follow me.” In we go to the exam room next door, where he drops his drawers and I have a look. It’s a hemorrhoid, plain and simple, and swollen from the irritation caused by the radiation. I say, “Sir, it’s not the cancer. It’s a hemorrhoid. I can prescribe some medicine for it.” There is an audible sigh of relief. He follows me back into my office, where the sad tomatoes and mozzarella are looking a bit waterlogged by their balsalmic vinegar. I write the prescription and he thanks me profusely and goes on his way, and I go back to my lunch. A day in the life….
Reflecting on this later, I thought to myself, “Well, at least he wasn’t an asshole when he asked me to look at his asshole during lunch.” Always happy to be of service!
Moving tomorrow and too tired to sleep–but I really chuckled at this one! Nice blog, Miranda. And thanks for the beautiful pics of Deeries.
Right up there with an emergency anal-sac-emptying during lunchtime in vet med!
Actually, as much as we might make fun of them, there’s something very grounding about these basic life issues.
Great story! My husband has been an internist for 32 years and has a ton of them. Our daughter just started her very first M3 clinical rotation – psych. Her stories are piling up very quickly! Love your blog – so happy when one appears in my e-mail inbox!
Thanks Mary! Tell your daughter to write her stories down. And your husband! My problem is at this age, I’ve forgotten almost all of the funny stories from my youth. I have to work with what I’ve got now! M
hahahahaha,( not directed at your patient’s predicament,but your storytelling!)
great story! Check your email later – am writing that as I finish this!
you do have a way with words….
I am reading! And this is hilarious – and not so much (sorry about your lunch). Sorry I have been unable to comment lately, or write in my own blog for that matter, but I so enjoy your writing 🙂
Finally…I am catching up with my mail. I alwa
Finally…I am catching up with my mail, and I always pick yours out and read them first. I love your way with words. Thank you
THank you! M
Reminds me, a another blogging doctor who said, unlike most of his colleagues he loves dealing with pilonidal cysts, because despite being nasty, disgusting and located in an unfortunate place, there is nothing else so simple that makes a patient so happy than draining one.
It is really refreshing and interesting to hear a little about the life of a doctor. This post made me chuckle, esp. that last bit.