Patch Adams

I met Patch Adams on Friday. My school, in typical form, notified us that he would be making an appearance in the atrium of the Children's Hospital a few hours before he was to appear. Only a handful of my classmates were present since it was short notice, and, never forget (oh, if only I could forgot!), one week till the final. Now, Patch Adams was interesting and all of that. Wacky. Dressed as a clown. In fact, he showed up with an entire clown entourage, when he finally did show up. He wrapped most of my classmates in enormous underwear and forced them to lead a parade of children down the hall of the hospital. The only reason I escaped this fate was that during the 45 min wait I stopped caring about meeting Patch Adams, as I had found myself in an enormous, airy, brightly decorated room chock-full of books and toys and children to entertain. I did not know that such a wonderful place existed! (Being a first-year, I've rarely explored the hospital.) First of all, this place is swank. The entire ceiling and outer wall is glass, with a view out over the city and the ocean beyond. It beats the pants off our dimly lit, freezing, burber carpeted library, a.k.a. "The Frozen Wasteland." Second of all, kids! Third of all, toy dinosaurs! Man, I hadn't played with toy dinosaurs in ages. I met a delightful 11-month-old in the process. (Years from now this same child will be coping with a deep-seated clown-fear, with no knowledge of its source.) I don't know about all the clown business, but there is something to be said for making a hospital more cheerful. I know it did wonders for me. Nothing like the sight of kids with bald heads and IVs just being kids to warm the depths of your "oh why the heck did I ever get myself into all this?" first-year med student heart.