When you begin examining the child of two doctors and they watch your every move with scrutiny.
The paediatric equivalent to the word cancer is autism. The A-word. It is the bad word, the taboo word that no parent wants to hear.
When you see patients with scabies or pink eye and you feel the creepy crawlies just itching under your fingers and eyes for the rest of the day.
In the span of twenty minutes while seeing a child in the emergency department, we had bonded over a variety of characters including Spongebob Squarepants, Transformers, Toy Story, Wall-E, and Justice League.
Suffice it to say we spoke the same language and operated on the same wavelength.
Yesterday was special. A classmate and dear friend of mine who has been out of province for her residency came back for a weekend getaway. We had an opportunity to meet and catch up on how our respective residencies have been thus far.
While war stories were exchanged, the focus was never about the medicine side of things. It was more about how life has been and what we were up to. It was a nice change of pace from my regular conversations nowadays.
For four hours, we were able to disarm ourselves of our ward personas and talk about regular, “normal” things. From the movies we watched, to my recent vacation stories, to her relationship challenges.
At four hours, that mental vacation seemed too short.
Just when I thought I was out of the woods, I was re-exposed to the most dangerous paediatric affliction of all:
Contrary to its name, this troubling and traumatic condition is just damn hard to let go. It infects the motor and memory recall systems and results in people unconsciously humming or singing to its tune. It has the potential of infecting other people. Prognosis: Very contagious. A full recovery is possible but in the order of weeks so long as you are not re-exposed to it.