Small Talk

Get me some scrubs ­— stat

So, have I mentioned lately that my son is a doctor? You know, I will never get tired of saying that.

He is just the tiniest disappointment to me, however. I was expecting wonderful, bizarre, gory, hilarious recounting of what he experiences, as he makes his way through his residency. Turns out, the little wretch has all this respect for patient-doctor privilege. Tsk.

I expect I’ll need to ply him with tequila shots to ever get any good dirt out of him.

It turns out that my fascination with all things medical has grown right along with his years of studies.

I have no idea why. I was an English major. But once he started med school, I wanted to be a fly on his shoulder, seeing and hearing everything.

I had no interest in the exams, of course. But as medical science, like most everything around us, keeps expanding, it has my full attention.

Watching surgery on TV used to turn my stomach. These days, I want to scrub up for a closer look. Perhaps, what makes the body tick looms larger, as my own sad, silly, 60-plus body finds endless ways to go awry. Whatever the case, I am now satiating my interest by watching every medical show I can find. “Code Black,” “Chicago Med” and “Saving Hope” are my current favorites.

I add to these with paramedic/firefighter-themed shows, which are almost as good. It might be today’s computer special effects, but most of the footage looks, to me, like real wounds, and bodies going under the knife.

I even watched videos of both of my recent hand surgeries and was again dazzled by what can be done to replace and rebuild these days.

But, heck no, I do not want to live forever. I don’t care how many parts I could replace, I would still be old, which I will always find screamingly annoying.

Meanwhile, my-son-the-doctor (had to slip it in one more time) is working the night shift in labor and delivery. He is going to be a general practitioner, but he does enjoy being part of the arrival of new life.

If you want to know the latest, most astounding, equally horrifying and fascinating medical science story, Google hook worms and allergies. No, really. If I find anything weirder, I’ll get back to you right away.

Jean Gillette is a freelance writer who will admit she still looks away when they put a needle in her arm. Contact her at

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1 comment

Dianne January 2, 2017 at 8:25 pm

Jean, I love your articles! I definitely can relate to not writing about a deceased friend until a year later!
Then again, finnding the correct battery for a watch, a remote, or whatever!

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