“You look like”….has this phrase ever been uttered to you during a conversation? Or, “Do you know who you look like?” Or, “Have you ever been told you look like…?” I think it’s happened to all of us at one point in our lives, and it is quite funny how our inner voice responds to this question. Tick.tick.tick.tick..our internal timer is now in play as we either eagerly anticipate or ruefully dread the completion of the sentence. And sometimes, it can take an eternity to get an answer…
Let’s face it….no one ever wants to be told that you resemble an ugly person. Call it vanity, but don’t we all want to be compared to someone that you admire yourself? Otherwise, it throws a few logs onto the insecurity bonfire that flares up time to time; the kind that shoots sky high when you throw that discarded Christmas tree into the flames. Complete with accompanying snap, crackle, pop. ( I just remembered I didn’t eat breakfast today).
In my case, I wouldn’t mind if someone completed the sentence above with …Jason Statham, Patrick Stewart, or even Ed Harris (a younger version of course; ie from “The Rock”). Not only are they all great actors (stop chuckling; Jason Statham is a LOCK for Broadway once Hollywood stops calling), they are all, at least in my mind, good looking guys, personable, and take care of themselves. I have even gone so far as to practice a few lines from Captain Jean Luc Picard so that I can drop them into casual conversation; “Earl Grey. Hot.” or one of the bigger stretches for me, “Engage”. However, it does dull the magic when I not only have to explain who I am impersonating, but also the context of the impression.
Well, the past year I had my most recent moment of being compared to someone else…and I don’t mean to brag but it is a Hollywood actor. Let me explain…hope you’re sitting down for this.
I work as a Physical Therapist in a very busy ICU – one of my responsibilities is to get patients stonger and more mobile so that they can be transferred to another area of the hospital; or even discharged home in some cases. It is a very challenging job from a physical, mental, and emotional perspective. Over the years, there has been a lot of heartbreak but also a lot of amazing recoveries and outcomes.
One such patient ultimately had a successful outcome, but it was tough sledding in the early days soon after her admission. She had been riding a bicyle and been struck by a car causing numerous internal injuries and broken bones. She was on life support initially – an uncomfortable breathing tube was helping her survive along with a litany of medications to keep her stable. Luckily, there was no trauma to her brain so once she started to wake up, and the medications started to clear, she was her bright, 28 year old self.
This is where I come in. As a Physical Therapist, we often are the first ones to sit a patient up in bed, even if they have a breathing tube in. I first met Elizabeth on a Friday afternoon, and after speaking with the nurse, we agreed that she was in a good enough place to try what we call ‘dangling’ (no, this does not mean that the patient is suspended from the ceiling like a puppet), which simply means sitting the patient up at the edge of the bed.
Despite having this breathing tube in place, not being able to talk, and having had massive amounts of pain throughout the admission, I thought she had managed to get through the 5 minutes of supported sitting quite well and we returned her back to bed. Seeing that I would be working the next day, I told her that I would check in on her again.
When I went back to see her, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Sometimes patients are much worse after their first activity session and you can imagine that they are not thrilled to see me. And my motto is, and will always remain, ‘you are only as good as your last patient’. Because trust me; word travels fast, especially if you mess this part up. You are damaged goods. Patients, and staff for that matter, won’t want to work with you which is like throwing that Christmas tree back into the firepit. Snap. Crackle. Pop.
Elizabeth still had the breathing tube in, but she was sitting more upright in bed and she seemed to be more awake and engaged (please say this in a Patrick Stewart voice please). She was even watching a movie from a TV that was placed above the door. OK, this is a good sign, right?
But when I walked into the room, she wasn’t smiling (this can still be done somewhat, even with the breathing tube in). And she started pointing repeatedly….at me. The nurse had come into the room with me to assist but she suddnely looked a bit concerned herself. “What is it Elizabeth?” the nurse asked. “Are you having more pain?” Sideways shake of the head from Elizabeth. ‘Are you having trouble breathing?: Another sideways shake.
My ears are starting to feel very warm. It’s the same sensation I had as a student years ago when I wrote the final exam for “The Astonomer’s Universe” – where I walked out of a 3 hour exam after 20 minutes. And not because I aced it. I’m thinking that Elizabeth’s peculiar response is related to me and I can see that the nurse is starting to feel a bit uncomfortable – for me.
As Elizabeth continues to point emphatically at me with a poker face, the nurse gives her a clipboard with a neatly printed alphabet so that she can spell out what she is trying to say. The nurse stood right beside her while I stood at the foot of the bed; unable to see or even guess the letters that she was now pointing to. The movie played on in the background, unabated.
What was she trying to say, or more precisely, spell? Would it be….NOT HIM, or TELL HIM TO GET OUT OF HERE, or, I WANT TO SEE THE CHARGE NURSE RIGHT NOW! or DOES HE EVEN WORK HERE?! Snap. Crackle. Pop.
And then the letters and words started to arrive….painstakingly slow. The nurse gave her best Vanna White impression – it was torture for me. Elizabeth, without hesitation, loudly tapped out each letter. HE…………LOOKS…………..LIKE…………DOBBY. Let me repeat this. He looks like Dobby. Elizabeth had been watching a Harry Potter movie on the TV (sorry, couldn’t tell you which one) that she was now pointing up to above the door.
The fact that the nurse agreed with the patient made it sting even worse. The nurse even googled a photo of this Doppleganger to show me. So helpful. What I saw horrified me. I couldn’t unsee it. A 3 1/2 foot tall house elf. With large, bulging green tennis balls for eyes, long, bat-like ears, a pencil shaped nose, and a wrinkled face. Snap. Crackle.Pop.
Word traveled fast. By the time I got to the other side of the massive ICU, one of the other nurses approached me to tell me she had already heard of the comparison. I think she tried to make me feel better because she said it was a great compliment because this character was ‘so nice’.
She also gave me some good information that would further ‘endear’ me to Elizabeth. Not sure what she meant but she said to make the comparison complete, I should use the following line if I had to work with Elizabeth again. “Master, ..has given Dobby ..a sock?” I guess getting a sock is a good thing. But just one? Nevermind.
Unfortunately I didn’t have a chance to do this impression for Elizabeth because she was transferred to a step down unit and then eventually home before my next shift. Talk about a happy Hollywood ending.
So the next time someone says….”Do you know who you look like?” Whoever it is, be prepared. The answer, like mine, can keep you from getting too big for your britches….whatever they are. Thanks for reading!
Leave a Reply