Did I Say That Out LOUD?

I have a good time with my medical practice. I like to think that I always appear happy and friendly when I greet patients. I like to joke with the kids and even tease them a bit. A smile or a laugh goes a long way in "setting the stage" and making people relax. I encourage standing parents to sit down, and I sit down. If I have not met them before, I introduce myself and try to find out more about them as people. I clearly think that I portray myself as someone who likes what they do.

One of the more stressful times, especially for children, is when they must have a painful procedure or surgery. You can see it in their faces when you walk into the rooms. Before any needles or scalpels make their debut, it is important to help them relax in a friendly, non-threatening environment.

"I see by your chart that I am seeing you today for stinky feet. Can you tell me about it?" There is nothing like a comment about smelly feet, or boogers, or farting that will get a young child giggling...and relaxing.

When I examine little tummies, I am always guessing what is in there.

"I feel Cheerios...and a cookie...and, what is that? A frog?"

Over the years, I have discovered that you can please some of the people, some of the time, but you can't please a stern-faced ICU nurse on disability for fibromyalgia who starts the conversation by complaining about the care of a previous medical provider. If medicine is part performance art, this was clearly a tough room. My job to win over the patient (and the parent) was going to be difficult.

I was seeing her 14 year old son for a minor surgical procedure. He was frightened. His mother was insisting on giving him a Vicodin - a potent narcotic pain medication before I started the procedure. This created even more anxiety for the teen, who now believed this was going to be the Mother of All Painful Procedures!

"How are things at school?" I asked. Before he had a chance to answer, his over-bearing mother jumped in and informed me that he was a superstar on the school's debate team.

"Wonderful," I responded. "So, you are sort of...the Master Debater!"

I thought I came up with a good one. Granted, it was a little naughty pun, but he laughed...and relaxed. Although I was not watching the mother's reaction, she was apparently not as amused by my clever retort. Of course, she did not say anything...until the next day when she filed a complaint. She did not call me, or send me a letter. She went above my head to clinic supervisors. I guess I would apologize, if I had the opportunity. I am a bit hurt by her back-stabbing way of filing a complaint. I had intended no harm by my comment. She, on the other hand, intends to harm me in any way she can.

Men, even young men, tend to have borderline-sick senses of humor. We do joke about sexual things. Women (and mothers) often do not share our inside humor. His mother clearly did not appreciate the fine art of men humor.

In retrospect, I misread the room. Although my care of her child was flawless, I am sure I will be forever on her proverbial Fecal List for my off-color Master Debater comment. I provided her with even more fodder when she complains about medical care in the future.

I suspect I will not have the professional pleasure of seeing her or her teenage son again. Perhaps, that will be better for all of us. I am busy enough taking care of people that actually like me.

Incidentally, the teenager did not feel one iota of pain during the procedure. Perhaps, he was thinking about something else...

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