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May 25, 2007 at 9:43 pm

My Doogie Howser, MD

I got a paper cut yesterday. A small, inch and a half long little swipe on the knuckle of my right thumb. No big whopededo, right. I went to bed last night. I woke up this morning. My thumb was throbbing, and I looked down at this swollen, purplish red mess where the miniscule scrape was. So I went to the doctor, because by afternoon it hurt to move my thumb altogether. And I have a staph infection. And I am on a heavy duty antibiotic, had to get an obligatory tetanus booster. And now we wait. If it doesn’t improve by Sunday, Monday I will need to get an IV antibiotic round. I have faith it won’t get that ridiculous. But after Brian and Brandy’s run in’s with the wonders of Staph, I take nothing for granted.
But to bring us back to the Doctor. When I called at lunch time to make an appointment, my primary care physician was booked for the rest of the day. So they slipped me in with another internist in the practice. So after being weighed by the nurse who was one of the girls I graduated high school with (yeah, it was one of the girls I had forgotten—see the “mean girls” blog. it was kharma i guess), in comes the doctor. And after he looks over my hand, comes up with a game plan, and is about to leave I ask him the one thing I can’t get out of my head since he walked through the door…”how old are you?” To which he looks down at my chart, smirks and says “not much older than you”. Yeah, my doctor today was 33. When you do the math, we could have been in undergrad at college together. People my age are full fledged practicing doctors. And for some reason that is shocking. To see the door of an exam room open and there is someone you could have met at a frat party a couple of years back. How crazy this thing-getting older-is….

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