About 10-15 years ago, there was an internist who took night call doing hospital admissions.
He worked from 5pm - 7am, and I was usually there from 5am to 6pm, so
we encountered each other a fair amount toward beginning and end of day.
He was an eccentric dude (though a good doc), the type who tends to be best working night shift. He always had a large briefcase with him. Everywhere. It
never left his side. No one but him knew what was in it, was never seen
open. He took it in patient rooms, the bathroom, the doctors lounge... everywhere.
Late one afternoon I got called to see a guy admitted for a minor stroke. He was a retired baseball Hall-of-Famer. So I went in, and was talking to he and his wife, doing my usual neurology stuff.
I’d just finished answering their questions when Weird Doc and his
huge briefcase wandered in to do the admission. He came in, set the briefcase
down. I handed him the chart, since I was done with it and headed for my next consult. He glanced at
it, then said “OH MY GOD! YOU’RE MIKE HOMERUNSLAMMER! CAN I PLEASE HAVE YOUR AUTOGRAPH?”
He opened the briefcase. I may have been the only person on Earth
(besides him) to have seen its contents. It was crammed full - and I mean REALLY full - of baseball
cards. I'd never seen so many. All neatly arranged by teams and years.
He rummaged through it and pulled out the guy’s card from some year. And
a pen. And a clipboard. and handed them to the patient. Somewhat stunned (I was kind of in shock myself) he signed it,
handed it back, and the briefcase was closed.
Then he pulled his stethoscope out of his pocket and started business. "Thank you! So, what brings you to the hospital today?"
