Sunday, October 25, 2009

Small World

    At work yesterday, I happened to get a student taking refresher trips.  Just to clarify, my "student" is in his early 50s.

    While waiting for another job to finish ahead of us, I whipped out my Chemistry book and began to study.  He made a comment about his wife taking it years ago for her Nursing degree, which naturally got us talking about the medical field and my aspirations to become a Pediatrician.

"Really?" he replied, "My [relative] recently finished her residency in Peds at Johns Hopkins.  Would you be interested in talking to her?"


Obviously, I expressed interest, to which he responds, "Give me your phone, we'll give her a call."  At this point, elation turns to anxiety and nerves.  I know he means well, but I am wary of making this intrusion upon her unannounced and without her consent.  Visions of a very polite, but inwardly ticked doctor begin racing through my mind.  Not the first impression I'd like to give.

Mercifully, she does not pick up, and I am able to explain that I am not sure this is the best idea.  "Don't worry, I've been taking care of her mother for many years... she'll be more than happy to talk to you."  Upon the second unsuccessful attempt, I explain that she probably does not recognize the number, and will not answer.

"I wish I knew her husband's number," he begins, "he's a doctor at Johns Hopkins too... a professor, I think."  At this point, I am dying.  What are the chances that I have run into this man today.  Both of us damp from working in the cold and rain, discussing how to get me into contact with two doctors associated with one of the most prestigious medical schools in the United States?

Long story short... we are unable to get hold of her before the end of our shift, but he promises to call her this morning and get me in touch.  Sure enough, I received a voicemail from him with her cell number.  He says that he talked with her, and she would be more than happy to talk to me anytime.

Cloud 9.

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