I am most at peace in the sanctuary of my office, buried deep within the comfy confines of the allergy clinic. It is reinforced with shiplap walls, standing in formation, and trimmed with credentials and diplomas. Anatomical lung and sinus models share the shelves with an endless stack of medical texts and journals, always ready for inspection. The twice-filtered air wheezes and courses within an energized practice. I sit on my rolling chair behind my desk, the protector of secrets and solace for many. These clinical days are often filled with sagas and struggles of patients. Each patient and story is distinctive yet bound by a familiar theme of seeking relief.
On a particularly crisp autumn morning, the door creaked open to reveal Mrs. Podinkadink, a follow-up patient with a penchant for the dramatic, a perfect alignment with my Italian-American upbringing. Her presence filled the room like a gust of wind, scattering papers and unsettling the calm. Looking back, on her first office visit earlier in the year, she had tugged an enormous stack of past medical history folders on a red wagon past the reception desk and waiting area. It was the beginning of a beautiful relationship.
Our eyes met as I greeted her with a soft smile, "Good morning, Mrs. Podinkadink. What can I do for you?"
"Doctor, I just can't take this anymore!" she exclaimed, clutching her handkerchief like a lifeline. "I need a cure, an absolute, immediate cure for my allergies. I've tried everything, yet here I am, sneezing my days away, a prisoner in my own home!"
I listened, nodding with empathy, understanding the weight of her distress yet aware of the boundaries of medical possibility. Mrs. Podinkadink, a pleasant and, at times, challenging patient, was one whose expectations often soared beyond the realm of science and actuality, reaching for the quick miracle cure.
Her tirade against pollen, dust, and pet dander crescendoed. She repeated her personal story, and I once again understood her home as a menagerie of faithful cats within her perpetually cluttered home, an immutable space. From out of the blue, a thought sparked in my mind, bringing a hint of a smile to my lips. I glanced at my right desk drawer, the keeper of more than just pens and prescription pads. With a subtle motion, I drew it open and rummaged through an assortment of "tools" in all colors, shapes, and sizes until my fingers wrapped around a slender, enchanted object: a Toys R Us magic wand with a blinking gold-lighted star at the tip.
"Mrs. Podinkadink," I began, my voice a soft, reassuring melody amidst her storm of despair, "I understand you do not feel well and are frustrated, and I want you to know I have something special for just such occasions."
Her eyes widened with a mixture of curiosity and disbelief as I theatrically waved and then softly placed the fairy godmother-ish wand on the desk. A quaint little thing crafted from the whimsy of hope and adorned with flashes of child-like play.
"This should take care of it," I said with a confident and gentle smile, "It's been known to work wonders."
Mrs. Podinkadink, taken aback, let out a dramatic gasp, then chuckled, the tension easing from her features. With an ear-to-ear grin, she replied with a blend of sarcasm and wistful longing, "Oh, Doctor, if only it were that simple!"
"But sometimes," I replied, the light of a shared jest winking in my eye, "a little reminder to seek joy amidst the sneezes, to find peace even when the pollen count rises, is the most powerful medicine of all. Life sometimes requires a touch of the extraordinary to appreciate the ordinary."
I follow a few universal truths: We are children at heart, and humor is invariably healing and comforting. Like a parent who may distract and redirect their loved ones during times of distress, something as simple as a child's toy can be a truly magical instrument in the right setting.
In this quirky, unexpected moment, she found a different kind of solace that outshone traditional medicine. With expectations reset, we returned to the matter at hand and assessed her care and concerns with a fresh, true-to-life plan of action.