Updated: Dec. 18, 2023
Originally Published: June 19, 2015
While it wasn’t the first time I had encountered medical oddities—my father, a urologist, often left behind slides of graphic procedures during family presentations—the experience was still surreal. Those images of mangled anatomy frequently interrupted our family slideshows, which otherwise consisted of joyful snapshots from our annual ski trips.
Back then, I aspired to be a doctor, just like my father, yearning for the respect and importance that came with his profession. I was aware of his specialty’s reputation but preferred to highlight his kidney surgeries when discussing his work with friends. In the pre-Viagra ’80s, being a urologist didn’t carry the same prestige as other surgical fields.
When asked what my father did, I often mumbled my response, allowing people to misinterpret it as “neurologist.” The truth was, being the daughter of a “dick doctor” was slightly embarrassing; however, my mother would often joke that it could be worse—we could be proctologists, which, in the hierarchy of medical professions, seemed far less dignified.
Despite the occasional embarrassment, my father was my hero. He left for work before I headed to school and returned long after the dinner table was cleared. My grandmother would exclaim, “The King is home!” whenever he returned from saving lives.
One evening, my father surprised me by asking if I wanted to accompany him to work and observe a surgery. “Will I miss school?” I asked, pretending to be concerned about my education. “Just for one day, and you’ll learn something valuable at the hospital,” he assured me with a wink.
The following Monday, I woke up early and joined him for a quick breakfast. He had chosen to let me observe a kidney transplant, a choice I found quite wholesome. We dashed through the hospital hallways, and I struggled to keep up with his brisk pace, my shoes squeaking against the linoleum floors. The walls shifted from beige to blue as we approached the operating room, and my excitement grew.
Inside the OR, the atmosphere was intense. Bright lights illuminated a small, pink patch of flesh as we all gathered around. I stood on tiptoes, trying to see the delicate movements of gloved hands working away at the surgical site. My father occasionally glanced at me, offering a reassuring smile, but the excitement I anticipated quickly faded—the operation was far less thrilling than I’d hoped.
After what felt like an eternity, my father and his team exited, leaving me alone in the room. The nurses began to clean up, and I was struck by the sight of the patient, who appeared lifeless. They called in an orderly, and together they prepared to flip him over.
To my astonishment, my eyes landed on a rather unappealing sight between his legs. The head nurse, a robust woman, approached with a cart, and I braced myself for a reprimand for staring. Instead, she cheerfully squirted Betadine and proceeded to tenderize the man’s anatomy as if preparing a meal. Despite my limited experience, I knew that this was probably painful if he had been conscious. I stifled a laugh, and when my father returned, he quickly whisked me away for lunch, perhaps to spare my innocence.
Later at home, I recounted every detail of my day. The kidney transplant was quickly overshadowed by tales of the comical incident, much to my family’s amusement—even my mother couldn’t help but chuckle. While the embarrassment of being the child of a urologist lingered, I began to recognize the humor in my father’s profession.
As I grew older, I sometimes wished my father had a more conventional job with regular hours, like the dads of my friends, who didn’t talk about erectile dysfunction over dinner. But now, I appreciate his unique sense of humor and the lessons he taught me about embracing life’s absurdities. The laughter we shared around the dinner table was invaluable, and I’ve learned to approach even the most delicate subjects with a light heart.
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In summary, my unusual Take Your Daughter to Work Day opened my eyes to the realities of medicine and the unexpected humor found in life’s most awkward moments. It taught me to appreciate laughter amidst the serious, a lesson I carry with me to this day.
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