JanDunlap.com

My husband has stopped telling me when he has an appointment to see his spine doctor. Not because he doesn’t want me to know about his health, but because he’s tired of me and my daughter trying to figure out ways we can go with him to the clinic.

And there’s a perfectly good reason why my daughter and I want to go with him to the clinic.

My husband’s doctor is part of the Most Beautiful Surgery Team on Planet Earth.

I kid you not. The doctor is gorgeous. As is his nurse, his anesthesiologist, his anesthesiologist’s nurse, and, according to my husband, even the receptionist in the office. My husband and I have come to the conclusion that they must have a requirement in the clinic that everyone who applies for a job there must be drop-dead beautiful.

It’s a good thing the clinic doesn’t treat heart patients. They’d lose their patients before they even got back to the examining rooms.

Since I had never accompanied my husband to see his doctor, however, I had no clue what I was missing until the day I took my husband in for outpatient surgery to repair the herniated disk in his spine. I was sitting next to my husband who was prepped and ready for surgery when the anesthesiologist walked in.

My jaw dropped. I swear the lights in the room suddenly surged to full brightness.

Extending his hand to shake mine was this youthful Greek god in a surgical smock. I tried to read his name tag, but only got as far as his first name: Pericles.

Really. I am not making this up.

“Hi,” he said. “I’m the anesthesiologist. Call me Peri.”

I returned his megawatt smile, choking out “I’m Jan. It’s nice to meet you.”

Nice? Nice? I could hardly breathe, the guy was so beautiful. For a minute, I thought it was a joke – not only do real-life doctors not look like male models, but this guy was way too young to have gone through med school and a residency to become an anesthesiologist. I figured the surgery team had hired an actor to come in and liven up the place. But when he went on to explain to my husband and I what he’d be doing in the operating room, I realized he was no amateur.

Okay, I told myself, a fluke. A gorgeous anesthesiologist.

Then after the surgery, my husband’s doctor found me in the waiting room to tell me how the procedure had gone.

“Mrs. Dunlap? I’m Dr. Mullaney.”
I swear I heard angels singing. The woman next to me swooned.

No way, I thought. He was even more beautiful than the anesthesiologist. First a Greek god, and now an Irish one. Life just isn’t fair, I decided. Every time I’ve had a medical procedure, I get the cranky ready-to-retire old doctors with reading glasses, not the pick of the litter from central casting.

When I was finally allowed to see my husband in recovery, he was doing very well, but still seemed a bit dazed.

“The nurses in here, they’re all unbelievably beautiful,” he confided. “Do you think I’m delirious? Because I keep thinking there’s no way there should be so many gorgeous young women in a surgical suite, but they just keep showing up, each one more beautiful than the last.”

I patted his hand. “You’re not hallucinating. Or if you are, I’m hallucinating right along with you. Isn’t modern medicine wonderful?”

That night, after we told our teenage daughter about our experiences with the Most Beautiful Surgery Team, she generously insisted that she accompany my husband to his next clinic appointment.

“And the reason would be…?” I asked.

“It would give me the chance to ask the doctor if I could shadow him for a day,” she eagerly offered. “I’ve always wanted to be a spine specialist, or an anesthesiologist. It could be career exploration. I could do a report for school.”

Right.

“Heck,” I said. “Why just a day? Why not ask to shadow him for a week? A month? Hey, I know! Maybe he’d be willing to adopt you.”

“That’s a great idea, Mom!” She turned to my husband. “So how about it, Dad? Can I come with you?”

My husband laughed. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s a wonderful idea,” I said, winking at my daughter. “In fact, I should probably come along, too. I’ve been thinking that maybe it’s time for a career change, and I understand that medicine is always a good choice. I hear that spinal specialties and anesthesiology are particularly hot these days.”

Not to mention the doctors.