A new fascination has flourished, and with it more job prospects. In recent months, Jet has developed a thirst for knowledge around the organs, bones and systems of the human body.
The bladder and the digestive system have been popular topics as we brush his teeth – who doesn’t love poo and wee chat during the dental hygiene routine? No. Me neither.
“The Human Body” book has become Jet’s bible of late and he loves flicking through it. I acquired this book after an educational supplier gifted it to a school I used to work in. A particularly prudish colleague deemed it too ‘informative’ for a group of five to eleven year olds and was about to throw in in a skip when she decided to get rid of it in my general direction instead. Although I am all for openness with children, even I have to admit that there is only so much info that most primary aged kids can take on board about gonorrhoea.
It is extremely detailed and not particularly age appropriate, but he loves its in-depth diagrams of the layers of the dermis, the nervous system, parts of the brain, etc. Despite extensive study of his favourite book, he does have a few misapprehensions. For example, his assertion that women have a ‘wilm’ in which they grow babies. This has lead to all sorts of questions, such as: “Does Stella have a wilm? Where is it? How can she born babies?” I nervously await the day he starts asking random women in the street about their wilms
I asked him if he needed a wee the other day, and he replied, “No thanks, my bladder is empty.” As it was bedtime and he’d had a big drink with his dinner, I persevered. “No, Darling.” He explained patiently, in the manner of an expert talking to a layman. “It hasn’t got to my bladder yet. That takes three days. It’s still in my thingies.”
I think he meant kidneys 🙂
For his birthday we bought him a doctor’s outfit and tools of the trade, including a real working stethoscope. Donning his scrubs, he gave me the once over. After listening to my heart, he announced, “Just as I thought! Your arm is chipped.” He rifled through his kit bag, pulling out a plaster which he applied to the back of my right hand. Shaking his head, he continued, “So is the other one.”
“How do you think I managed to chip both of my arms?” I asked the doctor.
“You must have cutted them both on two really chippedy knives.” He said, authoritatively. “It’s going to be sore for two days.” He had another flick though his box of tricks. “I’ve got no more plasters, I’m afraid.”
I felt quite entitled to that second plaster – after all, I had paid for them. Not as a tax payer, you understand, but as his mummy buying him a birthday present. Also, I could feel the healing power of the first one as the placebo effect worked its magic. How was my second chipped arm supposed to heal without it? This was surely symptomatic of the appalling NHS cuts in action! I was gearing up to write to my MP.
Dr Jet was off writing up his notes. He painstakingly sounded out “Your sore chip” on a post-it note in fluorescent pink highlighter pen. “We’ll stick that on the wall now, so your parents will know.” He bustled back towards me holding a pill bottle. “You need this. Funny vitamins for your arm.”
Meanwhile, the more junior of the two Junior doctors was busy chewing the block of post-its. Dr Jet dispensed more of his wisdom, “You’re supposed to write on that, not chew it!” he instructed. The care I had received for my chippedy knives-related injuries really had been top notch. And whilst he tended to me, he was also supervising Dr Stella, who was following him around offering helpful interjections such as “Arm!” and trying to copy everything he said.
My treatment seen to, both doctors sped off on their ‘ba-bas’, Stella’s name for the ride-on toys we misguidedly have in the living room. “It’s the ambulance!” shouted Dr Jet. Upon arriving at the scene, Dr Jet had a question. “Do floors have hearts?” he asked. Getting down on his hands and knees with his stethoscope, he found the answer – “They do!”
Jet Linford Houdini Hanby
Education: Leapfrog Nursery, human body aficionado (self-taught)
Specialist skills: In-depth vocabulary vis-à-vis the body, including both internal and external parts, asking personal questions relating to health and the body to anyone he meets, keeping unsocial hours, wild misconceptions – specialising in gynaecology
Seeks role as: health practitioner
Areas for development: bedside manner, any sort of political awareness, a lexicon of insults suitable for use against Jeremy Hunt