Mundane Housecalls

I'm not as good at as many things as some of my friends, but I was taught by a Catholic family at a young age not to envy and that lesson has always remained clear. I cherish knowing I have friends that are better at me than things I want to be good at. I was also taught not to brag and be humble, so not unlike the old courts of royalty allow me to decree a "Make way for the king" before I toot my own horn, but there is one thing I'm really good at, and it ain't basketball. I'm the Joe Perry of basketball, I suck and I look like a white idiot with a dumb outfit sucking.
Nope, I'm good at taking care of people. It is the most natural thing I have ever done. I was born gentle, I can focus and stay very calm in emergencies -like the time I did CPR when a van flipped off the road in the middle of the night and the ---long story short, I don't take speed because of a pact I have with Queztacoatl except coffee, and also cause speed sucks.- I am not a good listener if there are girls in the room, nor can I participate in a good conversation with out going to my wits end- however in a patient setting, I absorb all body movements and expressions and quirks of the voice as well as the actual concern and transform it into my own psyche. It is what I was born to do, help people who need help, and I love to do it. It brings me pleasure to hear that I make people feel better, but I don't need to hear it. It is nice enough to take a tissue and wipe away tears and make a trembling frown turn into a half smile, that is a great "thank you," that is a great "you really make me feel more comfortable." You don't have to say it, I was already reading your mind the moment I shook your hand with a smile and looked into your eyes and felt your pulse for 1/2 second before I brought you back. i know exactly what to say, I know how to make my voice say it, I know how to breathe and be calm and give off vibrations that can...
Make way for the King, toot toot toot toot
I'm good at it and I'm proud of it and I know I have skills that can not be taught.
That said, I will face one of my toughest patients these next few weeks. My stubborn brother. He just had a crazy disease and had emergency surgery and now he is couch bound for weeks. I will check on him, walk his dog, make him lunch and stuff like that everyday. He completely disarms my compassion simply by being my little brother -too stubborn for real compassion from his big brother who is more capable of him right now, a fact that gives him a lot of grief I'm sure. I can't get to him like I can with my patients, he has this force field that won't open up to me, and because he is my brother and I punched him in the stomach several times growing up, I don't think I have the right to come in. But in this case and as with many cases I deal with loosing my compassion, I always keep the right action, and sometimes that is what the patient really wants.
B:"Make me a sandwich bitch."
Me:"Spit sandwich coming up... toasted?"
B: "Did the dog go poop?"
Me:"Yeah, it shit all over it's fucking tail, jesus. You guys are both incompetent."

Me: "Let me see your wound, ah that's sick, let me touch it, that's fucking gross. That's fucking awesome and gross. I can't believe they taped that gauze to your pubes, lemme pull that tape off..."
B: "Fuck off!"
Either way I always leave the house behind with a "Thanks Kyle." Not that I need to hear that cause I know when someone is appreciative, but it's nice. Like the time I gave him stitches at my big house party after I properly anesthetized his hand, and pushed the fats of his hand back inside and sewed them up like a pro, "What the fuck you idiot?! You're lucky I have fucking stitches here and anesthetic cause I'm too drunk to drive you to the emergency room, god dammit Brock there's fucking blood everywhere." (laughs)