Tales From All The Comforts of Home Hospital- Edition 4*


Sarah Underkofler, Editor

If you missed part 3, click here!

*This story is a creative interpretation of all real events. Names and locations have been changed to maintain privacy.


As I vigorously tried to comb through all of the information in my head, I felt the beads of sweat slowly trickle down my back.

“Um, hello, Michelle?” repeats Dr. Johnson. All of a sudden, the answer zips into my head. Of course! 

“Oh, um, first check for other symptoms, and depending on the patient’s answer start running tests for possible causes like pulmonary embolisms,” I confidently stated. I felt pretty proud of myself after that alarming incident.

“Very good, Michelle. Next time though, don’t take 3 years to respond,” Dr. Johnson said as he winked in my direction. I never wanted that to happen again. EVER. After that wonderful almost-disaster, my day went on relatively normally. A patient here, a chart there, coffee breaks, and more patients and charts. Overall, it was a good day. Now, what made it an even better day was knowing that tomorrow was my day off! Yay! As a doctor, and especially as a resident, a day off was rare. And I mean, VERY rare. The last time I had a full day off was three and a half months ago, and that was just for Christmas! I was definitely going to make the most of my free day. It would be this day, however, that I learn a lesson that all my hours working in the hospital could never teach me: a doctor is never off duty. And I mean NEVER.

For my day off, I decided to go to the beach. I absolutely love the beach and everything about it. I love the ocean, the sound of the waves, the warm sand, the feeling of it in my toes, everything. I brought my picnic basket, my blanket, and my umbrella. I was set and ready to go for some hardcore, and long overdue, relaxing. As I was basking and soaking up the sun, I suddenly heard a scream. At first, I thought it was just a kid being loud and obnoxious, but they just kept screaming. I finally lifted my head up to locate the awful velociraptor-like shriek, to see a girl, no more than 11 years old, huddled in a ball in the sand grabbing her knee, screaming her head off. Her mother looked panic-stricken standing over her, frantically started yelling for help and asking if anyone was a doctor. I jumped up. 

“I’m a doctor!” I yelled to her (a little too excitedly I might add). 

“Oh thank goodness,” she sighed. “My daughter’s knee is facing the wrong way, and I don’t know what to do!”

“Hm, she must have dislocated it. Let me see if I can pop it back into place. What’s your daughter’s name?”


“Ok, now Liz, can you sit up for me?” I gently cooed at the huddled knot of limbs laying in the sand. Two weary eyes peered at me from around a bony shoulder. Slowly, Liz sat up, wincing from the shooting pain in her knee. “Okay. This next part may hurt a little bit. Try your best to stay still though. I know you can do it. Ready? 1, 2…….”

Stay tuned for the next edition of Unleashed to find out what happens to Liz and her knee!

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