On this particular morning Mrs. M gets an uneasy look on her face when I ask if she has any questions. “Well yes,” She says “I don’t mean to be snotty about it, but I was wondering since I seem to be getting a lot of attention, and my husband and I don’t have a lot of money… is this all going to cost us more?”

Apparently she was feeling that she was getting an awful lot of attention during her stay at Providence and thought that she should clear it up in case there was some misunderstanding, because she really was on a fixed income and couldn’t afford such fancy attention.

I explained to her that this was one of the perks of being at a teaching hospital. Lots of young doctors in training like myself coming by to see how things are progressing. I assured her that her “extra” care was not at an “extra” cost and that as a medical student I am encouraged to sit and talk with my patients and learn from them as much as possible. “It is an important aspect of providing quality care that we get to know you,” I said. “and frankly, from my perspective it is the best part of the job. It is why I do what I do.” Anyway, we both chuckled a little bit and I excused myself to my morning report meeting hoping she didn't get charged extra.

The tow truck driver showed up during my second glass and I sent him off with the address of the mechanic. I went back in to the venu and proceeded to finish off a third glass, but by the time the fourth was poured my head was dizzy and I had gone from tipsy to nearly drunk. Drinking on an empty stomach at 7AM will make anyone but the most hardened professional into a cheap date. Patty the cheery grandmother gave me full custody after her second glass so I tucked what was left of the Louis blah, blah, blah under my arm and wandered back to the Murphy digs around 8:30 for some breakfast. Following breakfast, yup you guessed it, I took a nap!

At around 2PM the phone rang and the boys at the shop had my car ready. Tom had left his bike for me to ride, so I hopped on it. With mildly dragging brakes, no grips, and a nasty headwind filled with desert dust, I embarked on my 45 min. ride to the shop in flip-flops and a green polo shirt.

Thursday following a half day of lecture and a post rotational exam for Family Medicine, I topped off the tank of my 91’ Subaru and headed out of Kingman for Phoenix. I was scheduled to catch a plane to Seattle the following morning so that I might join my family for Easter Sunday.

The drive from Kingman to Phoenix is risky because is it a major route to Vegas, and because it is only two lanes wide. Other than the high potential for car crashes it is a relatively boring three hours. This trip was accident free. The boring factor was increased slightly due to construction that caused back ups for about an hour. Nothing else rates quite as high on the boredom scale as being parked in your car on the freeway reading a book and waiting for traffic to move again.

I arrived in Scottsdale some time around 8PM and pulled through the gate of my friends condo. I pull into the parking spot and as if on cue my car begins to make a metal-on-metal noise that indicates in no uncertain terms that I will not be driving the car again until it gets fixed.

I am, of course, thankful and pissed at the same time. Pissed that my car just broke down and thankful that it waited until I was at my destination. The alternative of breaking down on the narrow road in between Kingman and Phoenix makes getting poked with a stick sound good. Pouting, I stomp up to Tom and Amanda’s digs to let it sink in.

I let a half hour pass and go back to investigate. With flashlights in hand Tom and I pop the hood. I am fully expecting something to be grossly distorted and dripping oil, but of course the engine looks normal. Great. We both peak closer and I see fresh metal shavings on the power-steering pump belt. A close inspection of the pump reveals more shavings. Tom starts the car while I hover over said pump to verify, yup that’s the culprit. The rest must wait until tomorrow.

Up at the ass crack of dawn I locate a couple of Subaru dealers in the valley. Next is the call to AAA to get the tow truck on its way. Once the clock has started with them I find and actually talk to a mechanic that can get the car in that day, so at 7 AM I find myself down at the clubhouse waiting for the tow truck to arrive…

In surgery we enter places not accessible to others, but this is done behind closed doors with patients under heavy anesthesia. OB/GYN draws a crowd. During the birthing process the patients, mother and fetus, are surrounded by family members. Husband holding the hand of his wife, mother applying a damp cloth to the forehead of her daughter, the best friend standing back with camera in hand. Into the middle of the action we enter and with gloved hand we are given carte blanche access to one of the most intimate places of the human body. Civilizations have been destroyed due to men’s coveting of this anatomical wonder, yet we, the healers are allowed, even expected to enter with the entire family looking on. It is a heavenly responsibility one that is guided as much by art as science. The modern shaman acting as a humble guide for these astral travelers, we reach into the dark infinite universe and ease life into the light.

To the uninitiated it may be a difficult threshold to cross, but talk to the mother and family during these interactions and it is clear there are really only two things on their collective minds... mother and baby safety. Rich, poor, young and old alike share this common concern and could really care less that the nurse, medical student, and physician are all taking turns throughout the hours to check the progress. They all wait and ask "How's everything going?" and they all breathe a small sigh of relief when we report that the stars of the show are tip-top.