I was preparing to host a group of friends to watch the game. The the fridge was filled with beer, chips and salsa were in bowls and a pot of chili simmered on the stove. My phone rang and I noticed it was my friend and neighbor, Rachel.

“Sorry to bother you on game day,” she began, “Lynn's got a fever and I was hoping you could take a look at her.”

Lynn was Rachel’s daughter and a regular patient of mine. Rachel did not exploit our friendship or proximity without good cause so it must be something rather serious. I took a look at my watch and noted it was probably yet another hour before the first of my guest arrived. “I will be right over,” I replied. I turned the gas off under the chili and grabbed by on-call bag.

Lynn was sitting up in bed when her mom led me into her room. I examined her ears, nose, throat and neck glands. “No sign of an ear infection, but that throat is pretty red and raw. I don’t have a strep test in my bag but am guessing that’s what she’s got and what’s causing the fever. I removed an old-style glass thermometer from its case and squirted a bit of lube on the bulb. “Lynn, I need you to turn over and lay on your tummy.”

“No!” she shouted and sprung unexpectedly from the bed. She backed herself into the corner of the room.

“Lynn! You do as your are told,” her mother barked.

“No!”

“Ok. Now you’ve done it,” Rachel replied taking the girl by the wrist and pulling her towards the bed. I began to move-in to take the girl’s temperature but her mom had other plans. She pulled Lynn over her knee and yanked down the girl’s pajama bottoms. “Please hand me that brush,” she asked looking at me. I looked at the dresser beside me and saw the implement she sought. Rachel began to paddle her daughter’s bare behind with amazing force and at a furious pace. After only a minute or so, the girl’s cheeks were bright red from crest to crease and Lynn was bawling loudly. “Such a fuss over getting your temperature taken,” Rachel admonished and parted the girl’s butt cheeks. I slid the thermometer into her rectum and returned to my bag. I rummaged around and found a 5ml syringe mated to a 2” long 18 gauge needle. The needle bore was a little larger than I would normally use - and would sting more as it entered - but the discomfort was small compared to the sensation Lynn would feel from the 4ml of Bicillin that would be pushed into her tush.

Lynn sobbed seeing the rather large shot that she was getting. I set the syringe on the small of her back and withdrew the thermometer. “Hmm,” I mumbled and showed the reading to Rachel. I laid the thermometer temporarily in between the girl’s butt cheeks and swabbed the right side with alcohol. I slowly punctured her skin and sank the needle to its hilt. I pushed the dose carefully but rather quickly into Lynn's muscle, knowing full-well that such a pace would heighten and prolong the burn of the antibiotic. For a moment I felt a bit guilty about my mild retribution for wasting my time with her tantrum but then concluded that a slightly sorer bottom was well-deserved.

I packed up my bag and we left the girl whimpering in her bed.

“Are you still gonna be able to come watch the game,” I asked as I put on my coat.

“I dunno. I will see,” Rachel replied coyly.

“You better not be a no-show,” I added. “Such lack of consideration might earn you a session over my knee with that brush.”

“Promises, promises,” she replied with a sly look.