Sunday, May 27, 2012

Doctor. Doctor.


In addition to my lingering insecurities and self-ridicule, Jameson’s second semester in medical school introduced a course called Introduction to Clinical Medicine or ICM.  This course taught students how to interview patients and figure out why they were being seen.  Grey and I were home practice patients for Jameson. Though, we seemed to be a practice in his restraint rather than clinical skills.

“Wife, stop moving! I’m trying to do this exam,” Jameson said and then let out another sigh. This was the third such outburst during this go round.

“I can’t help it. How long are you going to shine that light in my eye? Cripes! It’s killing me. What are you doing anyway?”

Ja answered, “I’m doing a lot of things. One of them is to see how your pupils react to light.”

“Why don’t you tell me how they react after I’ve had a glass of wine?” and I got up to open the refrigerator. Frowning, I noticed there was less than a glass of chardonnay left. Still, I pulled the bottle out and grabbed a glass from the cupboard.

“Kel, you told me you’d let me practice on you and instead all you’ve done is ask me questions and not let me finish a single examination point.”

Mental Checklist: Wiki search the meaning for blood pressure numbers. Husband is not in the mood for more questions.

I took a quick swallow to finish off my chardonnay. I knew what was going on my grocery list for the Monday afternoon shopping bonanza known as Cost-U-Less.  Looking at my husband I could see he was frustrated. I thought I was helping by quizzing him on everything - not the case.

“Sorry,” I said to Jameson.  “I just want to know what you’re doing. We literally see you like two hours a day during the week and only for a few hours on the weekend. I’d like to figure out what it is that you do during all that time. In my mind you’re letting Bob Hope play through and getting ready to cut open some dude in a tent.”

“Spies Like Us?”

“Yes.”

“Loved that movie. Dan Akroyd at his finest. And no, we’re not cutting people open in a sand trap,” Jameson said while making quotes with his fingers to mock me on the cut open comment.

  “Fine, I’ll suck it up and be a more patient patient.”

I belly laughed at Jameson’s response, “Wife, like I’ve never heard that one before.”

Grey walked in the room at that moment to see that his dad’s instruments were still out on the kitchen table.

“Dad, still doing the doctor thing?” Grey asked.

Jameson nodded cautiously and asked, “Yes, why?”

“Wanna practice? ‘Slap Shot’ is over and I’m bored.”

“Yep, give me a sec to get reorganized and then I’ll start the exam,” Jameson said excitedly.

“A’ight. Let me know when we get to the questions about bowel movements. Sweet logs to talk about.”

With that comment, my sweet husband’s mouth dropped open and he shook his head. Maybe I was the better patient.

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