Jose didn’t flinch— and refused to touch my peace-offering even as it sat in front of him
I don’t exactly look like the rough-and-tumble bouncer type, which is why some of my patients have asked me about the cap hanging on my coat rack emblazoned with an official “Hospital Security” insignia. Truth is, I still wear that cap I received back as an intern — it keeps my head protected from the Jerusalem elements, and keeps my heart focused on always trying to make a kiddush Hashem.
“Be nice to the nurses,” the older medical students would advise us as we started our clinical rotations. “They’re your best friends or your worst enemies.”
Having been to enough Shabbos tables as a bochur, I knew that the way to a stranger’s heart was via his stomach, and made sure to bring in a dozen donuts on the first day of each rotation to thank the nurses for the privilege of working on their hospital ward.
But it wasn’t long before I realized that a psychiatrist’s real best friends were often the hospital security staff. This was a lesson I first learned after watching an intern get assaulted by a patient late one night and then my colleagues in the blue uniforms come crashing through the emergency room to his defense. After seeing that, those guys were always recipients of my donuts.
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