The Perks of a Clerk

It's been a few weeks into clerkship, and I'm finally starting to feel I can control that sheer terror I've got deep in my gut a little better now. I've also been pretty lucky, no one has really drilled me in my sandbox-sized field of knowledge too hard -- perhaps it's because I wear my incompetence on my sleeve, thus rendering proving my ineptitude similar to coping a cheap feel on a drunken sorority girl.

There are myths out there - ones about the almighty "doctors-to-be" and the kinky business that goes down in the call rooms; about patients moaning a little too loud for comfort during a breast exam (or the dreaded rectal exams - not that there's anything wrong with that). Thus far, I've slept in the call room for many silent nights, palpated multiple pairs of pecs, and had my finger up more rectums than I'd like to admit. Still, no dice. Until now.

Looking at my triceps flickering about as I jotted down her history in her charts, she asks "do you work out?". Noticing my boyish good looks as I stared intently at her face, looking for the slightest hint of discomfort while palpating her abdomen for peritoneal signs, she inquires "what nationality are you?". Oh man, the myths are true. It was happening to me. Then the clincher: "you know, you're very handsome... "

I knew it! I AM McDreamy!

"... just like my grandson". So much for those myths.

Alright, so nothing spectacular happened. The truth is, clerkship is not very sexy, or glamorous. But really, there are perks to the job. This lady received some terrible news that evening -- she has late stage pancreatic cancer, and it's not likely curable. During her stay in the hospital, I've seen her everyday, and everytime I see her, her face lights up just a little bit. It's really not me or anything I did special, but if by reminding her of her grandson can bring just a hint of familiarity of family to this cold hospital, then yes, there are definitely perks to being a clerk.