2005-04-05 - 5:52 p.m.

I should have been a doctor. And, if it weren't for the expense of medical school, my family's feeling that women should just get married and have babies...and, oh yeah, my innate laziness, I would have become an MD. My mother always reminded us that she came from "a long line of German doctors" on her father's side. I wish she'd gotten on that line.

Anyway, my daughter sends me an e-mail this morning and asks, "What's wrong with my boyfriend?"...attaching his e-mail to her about a nighttime nosebleed. I used all the diagnostic genius inherited from my German ancestors and assured her it was nothing to worry about. Perhaps it was excessive nose-picking (hope not), cocaine dabbling (REALLY hope not), high blood pressure (doubtful) or the result of excessive tossing and turning from a recent spate of bad dreams.

It seemed to have a calming effect on her. I've learned to "stay calm" whenever my daughter brings up medical topics. Each year when she was a child (and a student at St. Luke's School), she would go on a school trip called "Nature's Classroom," which was designed to give "city kids" a dose of rusticity and to build character, encourage sharing and enhance self-actualization skills. Well, inevitably I would receive a postcard from her that carried some variation of: "Hi, Mom...we're having fun. Last night I coughed up blood. See you soon." Thank God the postcard always arrived AFTER she was home safe and sound.

The doctor is OUT. Don't leave a message.

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