A Little Rash

     The daughter who still lives with us…does that moniker make her sound like the creature under the stairs?  I assure you, she has her own bedroom and bathroom and doesn’t creep out at night to forage for food in the cupboards.

     So, the daughter who still lives with us is in nursing school. I asked for her opinion on a persistent skin rash I have been seeing a doctor about and she laughed at me. I don’t mean to cast aspersions on her bedside manner—she has a superlative bedside manner—so let me explain. Apparently, the consensus among nursing students is that as soon as one puts on a pair of scrubs the general public thinks one is qualified to assess rashes. No kidding. The checker in a grocery store stopped her one afternoon on her way home from work to ask her about the rash on his hand.

     “Well…it doesn’t look good,” she said, “but I’m not a nurse, so I suggest you go see your doctor.” At the time, she was a receptionist at an eye clinic.

     True, she is only in her first semester of nursing school, but she is a CNA and has already passed Microbiology, Advanced Anatomy and Physiology, and is currently taking Pharmacology; so I figure its worth a shot asking her opinion because she definitely knows more than I do. Her opinion was just what it should be:

     “Well…it looks a little red, but I’m not a nurse, so I suggest you ask your doctor.”