Temping!

Have you heard?
Im temping.

I was motivated. With all the recent hype in our class about who is doing what, with whom and where (Im talking about electives/internships, you sickos :P), I thought why not put my hols to a 'good' use as well. It will be some extra credit (that I have no idea will be helpful in any way later on, or not). Most importantly, it will make my parents happy.

Happy parents = Satisfied parents = no daily queries about whether I am studying or not = 6 weeks of no comments about how I shouldn't be wasting my time = happy me.

Yes, we all have ulterior motives. Spending six uneventful weeks at home with everyone in a good mood seems to be mine.

So a week ago, I put my grand plan into action and set foot into the world of crying children, pooping babies and smelly wards. I started working in the Paeds Department.

Safo says she loves doing her electives at UPenn. She's having the time of her life, she's made new friends and she's trying to experience the place on her own too. She even got lost once recently when she set out to sightsee.

Hmm… funny how things aren't very different at my side either. I did lots of getting lost too... In fact, I lose my way all the time. In the hospital hallways, in its grounds, in its parking lot. So you can imagine all the fun Im having. If you're there and happen to see a girl in a white coat, carrying a purse and a journal, walking straight ahead, gaze fixed on the ground, come say hi to me.
You might also see a man running after me, saying, Baji baji, where are you going? The OPD is the other way.
That's my dad's driver. Say hi to him too. He loves the attention. :D
The gaze down and fixed is a rule, by the way. Self-inflicted, I might add. Have you ever been to quetta? You'd understand if you had.

Yeah, so like Safo, I've made friends too. There's Akhtar, my dad's peon. He's a total sweetheart, bent on converting me, a no-tea person, into a tea-oholic by the time I go back to Karachi. Then there are the Consultants I am working with, Dr. A and Dr. B. Under-paid, over-worked, good souls. And of course, the male House Officers; how could I forget them. They make it a point to stare. A lot. I mean, seriously dudes, that's so last century. And the attendants who come with the kids. The female lot mistakes me for a doctor and showers me with smiles and admiration. The male lot mistakes me for a doctor and turns their back on me, pointedly ignoring my presence, while talking to the consultants.
Yeah, these are my friends. See, one big happy family.

Of course being mistaken for a doctor isnt always this fun or comfortable. A lot of patients come up asking for directions. I told one woman that I didnt know the way either. She gave me a really evil look (all residents of our dear city will know what Im talking about. Our qta-women can make your skin curl and convert you into sputtering pile of putty with that look if you arent careful. You’ll wish you were dead and six feet under already.)
So now with all direction-seekers, I pretend to not know their language. It makes things so much easier.

And then there were some people who mistook me for a doctor, came up to me and asked me for lots more then just directions. What was my reaction, you ask?
A sputtering pile of putty.
I blushed, I stammered, and then I picked up my jaw from where it had fallen on the ground and tried making a cool exit. (These are the perves, I warn you. Steer clear, steer clear.)
Yeah, so that was that. I dont think I’ll be living down this one anytime soon.

Oh, but then it comes to the kids.
And Im it...
I dont need any convincing. Just when you think you've had enough with screaming babies, weird parents, noisy families, a mother will bring in her year old baby, who was born pre-mature at 7 months, has low immunity, and is currently suffering from a chest infection and fever. And also, that baby happens to have the widest, biggest, most beautiful smile that you've seen in the whole day. He goo-gaas at you, slobbers on your hand while you examine him and apparently doesnt know what crying is. Or an 8 year old girl will come in, who looks like a pixie, smiles at you from behind her elder sister and collapses into fits of giggles when the doctor tries examining her stomach. Or the 6 year old boy with big eyes, who comes in straight from school, still in his uniform, too sleepy to sit straight on the stool. Even when they are sick, these kids warm your heart and touch your soul.

On your way home then, despite all the perves, and the weirdos, and the intolerable family members, your find yourself thinking, yeah, today was a good day.