Who Watches the Wachters

A story of love, parenthood, crime and COVID.

For today’s Fiction Friday I am going to try something different. I wrote a short story on Twitter. Well, I mostly wrote it. I need to go back and finish it. So this is sort of a self-motivation by putting it out here.

You may recall a Twitter thread by Dr. Bob Wachter regarding COVID and his son. This is, as far as I know, and entirely fictional account of that encounter. I will include the first few tweets here. This should be enough to see if it’s your cuppa.

Content warning for some bad words. And If Dr. Wachter happens upon this? All in the spirit of fun, doc. Based on the physicians from UCSF who I have encountered, I think you run a good department.

David McCune, MD, MPH @davidemccune

Who Watches the Wachter. A COVID-themed story of love, parenthood, crime and COVID. The final, this is it, long-overdue conclusion.

Note: it was not, in fact, the conclusion. Although you can see the conclusion in the distance from where the thread stops, if you squint. And as always, typos are my leitmotif.

David McCune, MD, MPH @davidemccune

Background: UCSF Chair of Medicine Bob Wachte posted a long and, I think even he would admit, a bit overwrought discussion of his son's bout of COVID. It left readers wondering, what _really_ happened?

Bob Wachter @Bob_Wachter

As much as we hate externally imposed rules, they do make things easier. As masking mandates are lifted even in blue states, those of us who have been cautious will have to answer a new question. Not “must I mask?” but “should I?” Today, a 🧵on how I’m thinking about this. (1/25)

If you want the background, take a detour to Dr. Wachter’s epic 25-tweet thread about his son’s viral illness. The son, who I have fictionalized as Bobson, apparently did just fine in real life.

David McCune, MD, MPH @davidemccune

Well, I'm not saying this _acutally_ happened. But I think it fits the events we know about, and it was a blast to write. So it's fiction. Probably

David McCune, MD, MPH @davidemccune

"Shit, dad's coming over," cried Bobson, slamming his phone into the cushions of the couch next to his scantily clad girlfriend.

David McCune, MD, MPH @davidemccune

"Seriously!?" Anna replied, turning her attention from the myriad 98% matches on Bobson's Netflix account. All of which appeared to involve at least one person with spandex and superpowers. "I thought you said we had the apartment to ourselves."

David McCune, MD, MPH @davidemccune

"Well" Bobson drawled, "I didn't...exactly...tell him not to come." He was looking down, hands clasped at his belly. He always did that when he felt abashed. Anna could never hate this guilty man-cherub for very long.

David McCune, MD, MPH @davidemccune

"What, exactly, did you say?" was what she said "Wasn't he here _just yesterday_? You are almost THIRTY, for chrissake!" was what she left inside her head. "I....I told him I was sick." ... ... "I thought he'd stay away"

David McCune, MD, MPH @davidemccune

"Bobson. Please, tell me you told him it was just a stomach bug." "Errrm...I kinda said fever & cough." "Jazzuz Fuckin Chrysanthemum, Bobson, did you tell him you had COVID!?" "I kinda implied. And he kinda inferred." <goddam but he was too cute to hate when he disassembled>

David McCune, MD, MPH @davidemccune

"Bobson. Your dad's the Chair of Medicine at UCSF. He's ALL OVER this COVID shit. He's the last person on earth you want to tell you have it. If he comes & I'm over here at this hour, he'll know we were doing a lot more "Chill" than we were "Netflix." How much time do we have?"

David McCune, MD, MPH @davidemccune

The knock at the door answered the question before Bobson could get out words to dig himself in any deeper. And the "Shit!" that followed was so in sync you'd think they'd practiced it.

You can click through and follow the rest if you want to get more. It might not be great, but it was fun to write.

Cheers, y’all.

and Happy Friday!

Image by Jeyaratnam Caniceus from Pixabay