Dr. Cara

As my children started getting older I tried to steer them toward careers I felt would pay them well enough to take care of their mother in her later years. Or at least one where I could work with them. The careers I thought fit them best were dermatology, dentistry, and optometry. No late hours. No on call. Minimal years of medical school. Of course, both girls turned up their noses on those, but that doesn't stop me from trying.

Recently I took Darcy to a dermatologist for a small lump below her shoulder. The lump appeared over a year ago, but recently increased in size and so her pediatrician referred us to a dermatologist. This time I went to the doctor he recommended, unlike last time. This dermatologist is a pediatric dermatologist, although he also takes adults. I loved him. He came into the room smiling and joking. He talked to Darcy about swimming and school. He talked to me about our pediatrician, who happens to be my friend SueG's brother, and about my trip to Myrtle Beach. He hopped up on the table with Darcy and oohed and aahed over her lump. He squeezed it, declared it infected, and put her on medication. After learning she still had a couple of weeks of swimming left, he agreed to take out what he believed was a cyst after districts. We made the appointment and went home where she dutifully took the antibiotic for two weeks.

By the time we returned this Monday for the surgery the lump was back to its pin size. I had to go into the office to get Darcy from school as the doctor performs surgery before school is over. It was pouring down rain and since the students are in portables due to a new school being built the attendance woman told me she couldn't release Darcy.

I was already nervous about going through another removal of a lump on Darcy considering the last experience, and telling me I couldn't have my child set me off. I looked the woman in the eyes and told her she certainly would let me have my kid as she was due for surgery in thirty minutes. Either my stern, confident authoritative voice convinced her, or she recognized me from all the volunteering I do there, but she told me to call Darcy and have her come up on her own.

Apparently, to get a child out of a portable an office helper is supposed to go and get her, but someone slipped once during a rainstorm and now the protocol is to leave the students in their rooms. It makes for a long day of math class if it rains all day. Darcy was relieved when I called.

We arrived at the office earlier despite the school hassle. Darcy had to undress and put on what she called a paper crop top and a surgical hat to hide all of her hair. She lay on the table on her stomach and the nurse prepped her arm. The doctor came in whistling and asked Darcy if she liked Taylor Swift. He cued up music from his Iphone and the two of them discussed Taylor's music and her recent concert in Tampa. He then poked around on her arm searching for the lump. I remarked that it had decreased in size since the antibiotic, but he located it and oohed and aahed over it again. The nurse asked Darcy if she was comfortable and told her to make sure she was because she would be in the position for thirty minutes.

Doctor: "Pfft. I say I can do this surgery in twenty minutes."
Nurse: "Twenty? You sure?"
Doctor: "Twenty minutes, twenty-two minutes tops."
Me: "I'll time you."
Darcy: "How about we all take this seriously?"

He numbed her up, left the room for awhile, came back and proceeded to surgically remove the cyst.

I was in the perfect position to watch it all. He jabbed at her to make sure she was numb. He explained to us how he would cut and then he did it. He made the 3 cm. incision and poked around inside her arm with some tweezer-like apparatus. The entire time he talked;  about his family, about his wife doing a local reality show, about the artists playing on his Iphone. He kept asking Darcy questions about her life. He kept her calm and he kept me calm. Eventually, he pulled out the cyst. It was about the size of a nickel. It took longer to stitch her up then it did to get the cyst out because he stitched inside the incision and then stitched it closed on the outside. Darcy was a champ.

Doctor: "This is going to hurt by this evening. Do you want some pain medication? Tylenol with codeine?"
Me: "She has a pretty good pain thresh hold. I'm sure Advil will suffice."
Doctor: "I'll write something anyway since she hasn't had surgery before. I'd hate for you to call me late at night asking for something then."
Darcy: "Yeah, I watch too much teenage television. I'm scared I'll get addicted."

We were out the door in less than an hour. We got the medication filled, but she didn't take any. Now we have to wash the wound twice a day and bandage it back up. Thankfully, we have a basket load of products due to my mother's foot wound. Today Darcy called to tell me that the bandages were coming off. Since there isn't a daily nurse at school I had to drive over with my medical bag. The sun was shining so the attendance woman sent an office kid to retrieve Darcy, and I bandaged her up in the office bathroom.

That's two surgeries now under my belt, one in dermatology and one in podiatry. Who needs my kids to specialize in areas when I'm obviously capable of doing it myself? I'll talk to my dentist soon to see if he needs me to assist with any oral surgery.