Wednesday, September 6, 2017

Twenty for twenty: Number 4.


If I won the lottery--like the big, bad, super-inflated, multimillion dollar PowerBall? Let me tell you exactly what I'd do:

1. Get some sheets in the highest count attainable.
2. Get my currently periodic housekeeper to make my home her main and only gig.
3. Get a driver.
4. Make sure the driver is down for driving 24-7-365-52.
5. Get one of those cars with internet access so that I can do stuff like blog while riding.
6. Philanthropize like a BOSS.
7. Have a cook.
8. Pay off my house and my student loans (yes, I still have some.)
9. Keep my minivan

Oh, and of course, keep working at Grady.

I need to emphasize numbers 3 through 5. I really, really, really don't like driving. Outside of that? My life is rich enough, man. Like, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't do too much different if I suddenly hit a windfall of moolah on a random Wednesday. But the thing you could bet your life upon is that somebody other than me would be driving.


So, this is on my mind because in the past few days I've driven WAY more than I want to. I mean, I really don't want to ever at all. But when I do, I'd like it to be as limited as possible.


Yesterday, I was rounding and my patient kicked me out as soon as I walked in. He said, "I'm not happy. Y'all are making me leave and I don't even have no shoes, man. This is some bullshit."

And so. I tried to tell him that we'd go find him some shoes in the social work office but he announced that he had to pee and that I needed to get out. And that was that. But before I left, I did ask him what size he wore. Which was a twelve.


Well. Turns out that the BHE is a size twelve and since he is from the midwest where sneakers get retired after just one speck of dirt gets on them, I knew EXACTLY where to get this man a fresh pair of kicks.


It was Labor Day so I knew the BHE was off. I tried to get him to bring the shoes but he was hanging out with the kids and the dog away from home.


So you know what I did. At lunch time I drove my butt home. To get the shoes for the man who kicked me out of his room. And can I just say this? Bringing those shoes back to that brother made it worth driving across town, man. It was.

"Got you some shoes."

"Who shoes is those?"


"Them shoes look like new."

"Yeah. They come from a dude from Cleveland."

"Awww shit. Them cats from Cleveland, Detroit and Chicago? They crazy 'bout some shoes getting dirty."

"You know it."

"Damn. This is a good look, doc. What size they is?"


"No shit?"


"And they mine?"

"All yours."


"Can I examine you now?"

"Lady, you can make me do jumping jacks for all I care. Man. These shoes is great."

"I brought a pair of socks, too."

He just stared at me on that one. And looked almost like he wanted to cry. I've learned that socks are a big deal when you don't have stable housing. For reals.

So yeah. I drove for that.

Then there was today. I was at Grady in the morning rounding. And I had seen all but one patient but that patient belonged to the med student. It was noon and the students and residents were supposed to go to Grand Rounds. I didn't want to delay them going but I also had this one more patient. There was an easy solution: See the patient while the team went to Grand Rounds.

Oh, did I mention? Today I had to be at Emory at 1PM to teach my first year med students. So I'd need to either see the patient alone and not give the student a chance to present his patient to me (a big deal when you're a student) or go to Emory and come back explicitly to let the student have the chance to present his patient.


Yeah. So you already know what I did. I went to Emory. Came back to hear the student discuss the patient. And then? Did I mention? I had to go back toward Emory to meet my third year students. Oh, and I had to get Isaiah from school, too.


That student knew that I valued him when he saw me walking back into Grady to hear his presentation. That was worth a lot to me. But dude. That was a lot of driving. A lot, man. I really need a driver. For reals.

Yeah. So I've been in overdrive this week, man. But all of it is give and take, I guess. And if I could do it all over again, I'd do it the same.

That's it. Oh, that and the fact that I have nightmares about someone forcing me to drive Uber for the rest of my life. Like, full on nightmares.

I think that's it. Yeah.



  1. Love your blog. Love your writing. That is all. Have a great day!

  2. I just tried to google BHE and the incredibly reliable urban dictionary did not help. Do not double check my search. I need a GDoc translation. Ha!

  3. If I won the lotto, I'd come be your driver. You are an amazing force for good!

  4. I have moved away from Atlanta, but my son still lives there. I know driving in ATL can be brutal.

  5. The problem is that you are driving Jesse Jewell and Clifton Rd. Seriously, two of the 5 most terrible places to drive in the whole state. When I need to see an Emory doc, I always ask if they can see me at Pill Hill. Having spent my youth around Clifton Rd. I know all the back roads, and I still don't want to drive down there. If tribulation works patience, you are working on being a saint.


"Tell me something good. . . tell me that you like it, yeah." ~ Chaka Khan

Related Posts with Thumbnails