Page 42 of Dr. Attending

She drops to her feet and turns toward no one in particular to announce, “I’ll be out back. The sun finally made an appearance, so we’re going to teach Carter how to blow some bubbles.”

I offer her an appreciative smile.

It’s not that I don’t want to spend every free moment that I have with my son—because I do. Getting back home to him is the only thing I think about when I’m at the hospital. But what I didn’t realize, or maybe have never had the chance to consider, is how nice it feels to carve out some time where I don’t have to be either a surgeon or a dad. Time where I can remember who I am outside of that.

This weekend has reminded me that I can make space for myself outside of the two most important jobs in the world. That Ishouldmake space for myself. And I’m thankful that I have people in my life again who allow me to do that.

***

Parker and Beau are currently tied one-to-one in the Dad Olympics. For obvious reasons, I withdrew from the events. I didn’t want to hurt their fragile egos by showing them up with my overwhelmingly mediocre skills. But that doesn’t meanI haven’t been having a blast watching my friends make fools of themselves—the past hour could have easily been filmed and aired on ESPN8The Ocho.

I think Parker might have unlocked a lactation kink after the first event because the man chugged the bottle like nothing I’ve ever seen before. And to nobody’s surprise, Beau won the second competition. I swear the beefcake must have been born with a beer in his hand because he hit almost every shot in pacifier pong without breaking a sweat. So it’s all going to come down to the final event—the diaper dash.

Doctor Dolly has been smeared with peanut butter and covered in a wet diaper to simulate a blowout. We tried to make the scenario as lifelike as possible, minus the rancid stench and tears that typically accompany the real thing.

Whoever can clean the doll up and put on a fresh diaper the fastest will win. It shouldn’t be difficult, but for two guys who have no experience with this stuff, I expect it to be entertaining. Especially because Walker is enjoying himself a little too much as the “officiator of games” and decided to up the ante at the last minute—they have to do it blindfolded.

“If I didn’t think gambling was stupid as fuck, I’d put twenty dollars on Beau finishing in less than thirty seconds,” he says under his breath, watching with amusement as Parker ties a kitchen towel around Beau’s massive head.

I bark a laugh and lean in so that the “contestants” don’t hear me. “That’s what she said.”

Walker snickers before he starts to explain the rules of the competition a final time.

The winner will be crowned “Doctor DILF” for the 2024 season and get to choose the loser’s punishment, similar to when you participate in a fantasy football league.

“Oooo,” Beau sings as he wiggles his hips to get ready for the green light. “This is kind of kinky. Almost like that one time—”

Parker swats the back of his head. “I dare you to finish that sentence.”

“Go!” Walker yells, sparing us from having to hear whatever horrifying memory was about to be shared.

Beau springs into action, approaching the diaper change exactly the way that I would expect from an ortho bro—with sheer chaos and power. He pounces on the pool table to find the doll, his biceps bulging as he rips off the diaper unceremoniously. Peanut butter covers his hands, but he somehow wipes the baby clean and makes surprisingly good time in securing the fresh diaper.

“Done,” he shouts, lifting his hands up in the air like he’s about to be arrested.

Walker looks down at his timer with a little bit of pride and reads, “Thirty-four seconds.”

Their relationship is interesting to me because for as long as I’ve known Walker, I don’t think I’ve ever seen himreallysmile. He was always serious, the guy who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. But Beau—and Morgan, actually—seem to bring out this lighter, more relaxed side of him. It’s like he’s finally allowing himself to enjoy life, rather than just getting by, and honestly, it makes me happy for him. He’s a good guy. He deserves this.

“Hell yeah.” Beau whoops as he rips the towel from his face and excitedly flings it to the floor.

“Suck it,” he taunts, puffing out his chest and slapping his palms against his shirt like a pro wrestler after a victory.

Parker arches a brow at the fake baby poop covering his friend’s white PFG shirt. “I think that’s a penalty. Ref?”

Walker simply chuckles. “I don’t know . . . I’ve got to make a call to the box.”

He glances at me and I grin, scratching my chin to draw out the process because the longer I pretend to ponder my decision,the more irritated Beau gets. I’ve been in the OR with him a couple of times for big cases, but we’ve never hung out outside the hospital. I can see why the guys like him though—he’s a good time, especially now that he doesn’t actively dislike me.

Which is why I widen my stance and roll my arms like an NFL referee. “Upon review of the play, it was determined that the offense lost control of the peanut butter at the twenty-second mark. Clean diaper required for forward progress. Thirty-second penalty. Winters has the ball.”

Beau groans and stomps his way to the guest bathroom sink to wash his hands, muttering about how this game is rigged because I’ve been friends with Parker for longer than he has.

“Anyone want anything?” I offer, heading in the direction of the stairs while Walker prepares the doll for round two. “I’m gonna go grab a gin and tonic from the bar.”

I don’t drink much these days—only the occasional cocktail here and there to unwind when the day gets the best of me. I think I just get nervous that if something were to happen to Carter, I wouldn’t be able to think clearly. But I figure since the little man has a team of healthcare professionals at his disposal, now is as good a time as any to let loose a little.

“Can you bring down a bucket?” Beau calls over the sound of running water.

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