Playing Doctor

"The Bad Doctors" (1892), James Ensor

When I was little, I had a lot of toys, and usually the things I really wanted appeared on my birthday or Christmas.

One wish-list item I still remember was a doll whose name I can't recall, but whom I'll call Medical Marva. Marva's role in life was to be a patient. She came with a hospital bed. Her accessories included arm and leg casts, a sling, crutches, a thermometer, medicine bottles and equipment, bandages, and plastic dots that could be stuck on her face to resemble measles or chicken pox.

I really wanted that doll, but it did not show up under the Christmas tree. My guess is that my mother found it extremely unappealing, too much like a sick child. Of course, I saw it from a different angle, envisioning myself as the heroic doctor who would make the doll well again.

Once or twice I've searched online to see if I can find Medical Marva. It doesn't help that I don't remember her real name. Even so, searching for "doll" and "hospital bed" sometimes yields interesting results. I tried it yesterday, and found a company that crafts miniature insane asylum furnishings for dollhouses. Crutches and a few bandages seem pretty tame by comparison.