June 1, 2014 "Pain when he is doing absolutely nothing"

First Words

      …thoughts of an anachronistic, solo pediatrician

                            by Glenn Feole, M.D.

"Be careful too that the reading of your story makes the melancholy 

        laugh and the merry laugh louder," Cervantes, Prologue to Don Quixote

Contact: ishmaelish36@gmail.com

Blog site: ishmaelish36.blogspot.com

June 1, 2014

Chief Complaint:  (what the nurse writes on the chart before the visit)

     "Pain when he is doing absolutely nothing."


Interesting Name: 

     Skyy


Anecdote:

     A four month old was fussy but his exam was normal.  Not even a runny nose or cough.  He smiled during the entire exam.  I was reassuring the young mother when she looked at me seriously and said, “Can I ask you a question?  My grandmother said that he might be fussy because he has a crossed liver.”  

     I had to admit I hadn’t checked for a crossed liver on my exam, probably because I wouldn’t know one if I saw one.  I asked her what that meant.  (I told her about Situs Invertus, but this sounded as strange as ‘crossed liver’ when the words left my lips.)   “You know.  They told me that if he can’t touch his right knee to his left elbow…that’s a sign of a crossed liver.”  

    I immediately realized that I too had a crossed-liver.  With my middle-aged belly, it had been decades since I could touch my right knee with my left elbow, which I used to do easily and fondly as a child.  I kept this fact to myself.

     I knelt down and, low and behold, I couldn’t make the baby’s knee touch his liver.  We were both laughing at that point though.  I pointed out that all babies his age had a big belly that would prevent this…just like men in their fifties (me).  
          South Carolina, March, 2007 

A walk on Bald Head Island, N.C.

Poetry:

For My Daughter

I wanted to bring her a chalice
or maybe a cup of love
or cool water I wanted to sit
beside her as she rested
after the long day I wanted to adjure
commend admonish saying don't
do that of course wonderful try
I wanted to help her grow old I wanted
to say last words the words famous
for final enlightenment I wanted
to say them now in case I am in
calm sleep when the last sleep strikes
or aged into disorder I wanted to
bring her a cup of cool water                                                          
                                                                                                                             
I wanted to explain tiredness is
expected it is even appropriate
at the end of the day

         by Grace Paley 

            from Begin Again: Collected Poems. © Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2000.