Though only 5 1/2 years old, Sharnecia Phillips was a tough audience.
At her preschool checkup earlier last month with Dr. Lelon Edwards, Sharnecia sat stiff-lipped and determined not to smile while Edwards ran through the tricks that most of his young patients find hilarious.A hidden sound-effects toy roared like a lion while he listened to her chest with a stethoscope. He pulled a lollipop out of her ear.
It was only when the "S" word was broached that Sharnecia came alive. Stickers. A whole drawer of them.
Bouncing out of the office with two fists full, Sharnecia paused to give the doc a quick hug - yet another fan won over to "Dr. Bubba."
If he were a neurosurgeon, patients probably wouldn't call him Dr. Bubba. But Edwards is a pediatrician, and his nickname is Bubba. So Dr. Bubba it is - though it tends to become "Dr. Bubbles" among the younger kids.
It was the week of school registration in the Memphis area, the beginning of a busy season for anyone who deals with children. For physicians like Edwards with Pediatrics East, the school season brings its own set of medical issues.
It starts with last-minute ready-for-school checkups and vaccines, and refilling prescriptions for attention disorder medications.
School season coincides with allergy season, and that brings wheezers and ear infections. Then, about two to three weeks after school starts, there are strep and respiratory infections.
And, of course, there are the newborns, infants and preschoolers to see.
No doubt parents are frustrated as they sit in physicians' waiting rooms, wondering why it takes so long to see a doctor when they've had an appointment for weeks.
But if parents could follow their pediatrician around for a day, they'd understand, especially with physicians like Edwards. Being Dr. Bubba takes time.
His days typically begin early after he drops off two of his three children at school.
On this day, it was his turn to man the clinic that begins at 7:30 a.m. for parents who need to bring their children in before work.
On other mornings, Edwards has newborn checkups at one of the area hospitals, where he often meets first-time moms and future patients for the first time. That visit is more for the parents.
"Don't be afraid you're going to let the air out of the tires," he tells new parents. "Have fun. Don't read anything. Fly by the seat of your pants."
This is a recurring theme for the Memphis-born Edwards, 42, a University of Tennessee, Memphis medical school graduate who has been a pediatrician in the area for 13 years, including four years in the emergency room at Le Bonheur Children's Medical Center.
He encourages parents to relax and follow their instincts - and to enjoy their children.
He does this in part by example. Edwards enjoys children, too.
From the moment his regular clinic begins at 9 a.m., he seems to run, not walk, from exam room to exam room until around 6 p.m., with barely a break for lunch.
"It's full-court basketball as soon as they blow the whistle," said Edwards.
And his schtick never seems to get old.
Edwards informed Austin Long, 6, that his blood count showed 37 percent dinosaur blood - which is good; any more than that and his skin turns green and scaly. Austin grinned widely.
When Edwards pulled a lollipop from his ear, Austin said, "Cool!"
"What are those green slimy things in your nose," asked Edwards, playing the straight man.
"Boogers!" howled Austin with a giggle.
Next, 3-year-old Emily Humphry arrived to formally give up her pacifier.
Edwards keeps a giant pacifier jug, appropriately decorated, into which children who are ready to give up the habit donate their favored sucker once and for all. No turning back.
"When this jug fills up, I get to retire," said Edwards.
"But he doesn't know we take them out when he's not looking," whispered nurse Sue Ledford.
On to Tom and Drenda Pullen with their three sons, Taylor, 5, Clark, 8, and J. T., 10, who are in for checkups.
Drenda had a list of questions scrawled on a paper towel: Taylor's odd tick of clearing his throat, Clark's strange rash, J. T.'s Ritalin.
Then came 4-month-old Cole Brownlee, who had a bit of fever and diarrhea. Cole is the first child of Melissa and Danny Brownlee, and they were clearly worried.
After checking the baby, Edwards said, "I think basically this little guy just feels bad."
"Come on, Doc. That doesn't help," said Danny Brownlee.
Edwards explained that the child's blood count indicated a viral infection, and there was little they could do but offer Tylenol, push fluids, and keep an eye out for changes.
He fetched a Popsicle for Cole to suck on and gave Melissa a reassuring squeeze of the shoulders. She seemed to need it.
"I'm a basket case," she said.
Perhaps almost as much as he is treating the children, Edwards is treating the moms.
"That's the hard part of it," he said. But it's an important aspect of a child's wellness.
Just as dogs smell fear, children - especially infants - can sense their parents' tension.
Later in the day, Edwards saw 9-week-old twins who wouldn't eat. His advice to the parents: Try a different formula and an antispasmodic - and find a babysitter one night a week for a regularly scheduled break.
"You need time out," he said.
The pace continued through the day. There were more two-week checkups, more rashes, parents concerned about their baby's lopsided head, an ear infection.
The representative for a drug company brought a catered lunch, which was set up in a conference room. Around 1 p.m., Edwards inhaled a quick plate of lasagna and headed back to the exam rooms.
On some nights, there is the night clinic rotation from 6 to 9:30 p.m.
Then there's all the off-duty questions, when Edwards gets cornered at church or the grocery store.
"I try to tell them I left all my medical advice at the office. Call me tomorrow," he said.
But, adds Edwards, "I can't imagine doing anything else."