We are a few days out from taking our third ginormous block test, on all things to do with the heart and lungs. We are several more days out from Christmas, and I must admit that on a scale of excitement from 5-year-old to Ebenezer Scrooge, I am pretty close to the 5-year-old end.
So, naturally, I dreamed that Santa Claus was my patient…
Spending all that time in the North Pole, where there’s very little sunlight this time of year, has led to Santa’s vitamin D deficiency; his bowleggedness is from rickets. I told him to be sure to drink all of the milk the kids leave out.
I also told him to go easy on the cookies. His obesity (what he called “jolliness”) puts him at risk for a host of other medical issues.
His shortness of breath was caused from the low pressures of his high-altitude sleigh-flying; I put him on a nasal cannula of oxygen.
I remarked that having 364 vacation days is mighty nice, but I told Santa, the stress of delivering gifts to every child across the globe, in one night, is causing him to release abnormally high amounts of aldosterone, leading to his hypertension.
Also, I referred him to a psychiatrist, because I thought spending so much time away from any human contact suggested a social anxiety disorder.
Christmas may be cancelled this year, y’all. Santa may be in the Emergency Room.
Written by — Daniel Dreschsler, a student at the Medical University of South Carolina. Used by permission.