Foreign Bodies Are Kid’s Stuff

Henry Frenkel and I were married in the early 1950s when he was a junior in medical school. I taught school as he continued his education, internship and ophthalmology residency. He was so young looking that I was often accused of being a cradle robber. When he started solo practice in an industrial Connecticut community, the nurses at the hospital thought he looked too young to be a husband and father, let alone a doctor.

At that time, there was no full-time coverage in the hospital emergency room, which was about five miles away. It was the time before safety glasses were commonly worn at work, so many nights Henry was called to the hospital to remove foreign bodies from workers’ eyes.

After several late-night drives, Henry decided to equip a small office at home to take care of emergencies after office hours.

v Early one wintry morning, a man called, complaining of pain because a piece of metal was stuck in his eye. Given directions, the man was asked to come to the home office.

There had been a moderately heavy snow fall during the night, so Henry put on a heavy ski jacket, hat, boots and gloves and proceeded to shovel the sidewalk. When the patient drove up, he got out of his car and asked Henry, “Hey kid, is your father home?”