Friday, February 8, 2013

the one about my medical career

When I was very little I had scarlet fever. (You may be thinking this is the beginning of a Victorian Era novel, but it's not--it's just my life.) Mama Lo took me to the doctor and I remember coming home and declaring, "I'm going to be a doctor when I grow up." Fast forward 15 years and 5 majors and that dream is long gone. I will never wear scrubs to work (still a little upset about that) and I live vicariously through Meredith Grey on Grey's Anatomy, dreaming of operating. 

When I switched to business (which I'm still loving!) I thought I would never have the chance to do anything within the medical field. This was faulty logic: my dear friend Kristen provided me with a golden opportunity. Over Thanksgiving her husband met a severe blow during an annual Turkey Bowl, leaving him with a nasty cut on his eyebrow. He got stitches and now it was time of them to come. Not wanting to go the doctor to have them removed (and who can blame them), Alex asked me remove them. This was my moment in the sun! 

Since I have never removed stitches, I did what anyone else would do: read WebMD and watched a YouTube video. Equipped with expert advice, I was ready. Alex came over to my house and the games began. There were six stitches right below his eyebrow. In my head I reviewed what I had learned: Cut on both sides of the knot and pull the string out. It sounded simple enough. We had a few problems though:

1. My hands were shaking like crazy; I was worried that I was going to maim my friend's husband. 
2. The scissors I was using weren't cutting through the string very well. Alex was a champ though and didn't even complain when I tugged at the stitch.
3. The lighting was terrible. Obviously the architects of my house did properly prepare for the kitchen to become an operating room. 

After a few minutes of trying to work the dull scissors, Alex suggested that I try his Swiss Army knife. All of sudden I was a doctor in the middle of the Amazon using whatever we found leftover from the plane crash. The Swiss Army knife turned out to amazing though. It significantly expedited the situation. I would like to say that I kept my cool the whole time, but I will admit that at one point I got super nervous. Luckily, I pulled through and so did Alex. He now sports a very manly scar. 

2 comments:

  1. Well written! I definitely had a good chuckle over this, thank you! You decided not to be a Dr.? Dang. I am glad to hear you are enjoying business. Again, thanks for the witty post, I enjoyed it.

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    1. Thanks, Melane! I did decide to not go to medical school :( It just didn't feel right and I am loving business! It was definitely the best decision for me :)

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