googles, "how much is botox"...

When the patient's mother grabs me and says, "Are you the staff?" I am momentarily chuffed. 

I must look authoritative. Mature. Confident in my medical professionalism. 

"I'm not", I say. "But what can I help you with?"

"We want another doctor. Our doctor looks too young."

Sigh.

I am in that delightful stage where I look haggard enough to be staff, but am inexperienced enough to need someone supervising me. 

The fun part about working at the Children's Hospital is that I am not supposed to know how to manage kids, so people give me lots of help and training and double check my plans. 

(They also ask me for help with ER specific problems; last night I used ultrasound to place a hematoma block and reduce a Bennet's fracture, which is a bit of a rock star move. FYI.) 

The less fun part is that the junior residents look about 12 years old and I keep mixing them up with the patients.

Oh well. Wiggly butts, rashes, minions teeshirts and therapeutic popsicles. Pediatric ER is not all bad.