Thoughts on Robin #164 and Batman Confidential #6
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Robin #164 “Making the Band”
Adam Beecher, writer
Freddie E. Williams II, penciler
Robin (Tim Drake) wants to join the high school tennis team, but Batman is opposed.
Batman: To join an sports team, you’ll have to take a physical.
Robin: It’s not like I won’t pass.
Batman: It’s not that. You’ve had broken bones, Tim. Lots of them. All of that will show up. Excuses won’t cover them. It’ll raise too many red flags.
Batman is right that most states require a Preparticipation Physical Exam prior to joining a school sports team, but other than that, his reasoning is strained. The preparticipation physical is good head-to-toe physical exam, but nothing excessive. Unless something turns up on the exam, doctors do not order labs*, x-rays and other studies. If Robin’s broken bones were set correctly and healed normally, there’s no way they’d show up on exam.
There has been some talk about expanding the sports physical to include a closer look at the heart (including an EKG or echocardiogram), but there is not much good evidence in support of this. At no point have general screening x-rays (the only thing that would show Robin’s old fractures) ever been considered as part of the physical. The cost/benefit ratio would be horrible, and we let’s not forget that x-rays involve radiation exposure and — though it’s only a small amount — they should be avoided unless truly necessary.
(Plus — Tim would have needed a physical to start high school, or when transferring to his new school. By Batman’s logic, any broken bones should have showed up then as well)
As I said, it’s a nit-pick, but since it’s that time of year where I’m performing dozens of preparticipation physicals per week, it seemed timely.
*In Illinois, it’s “suggested” that we screen for diabetes in children with a body mass index above the 85th percentile. On one hand, given the recognition that obesity is becoming a childhood disease, this makes sense. But on the other hand, the research doesn’t support this. I could only find one small study supporting screening for diabetes, and that was in a selected population more prone to diabetes. I don’t want my patients to be diabetic, but nor do I want unnecessary blood tests performed on them.
Switching topics to Batman Confidential #6. This line towards the end of the book caught my eye.
Batman has just confronted Lex Luthor in his lair and defeated all his military-style robots:
Batman: You underestimated yourself. I used your own virus against you — with a few minor adjustments. You programmed my machines to kill. I programmed yours to kill themselves.
Since Batman’s talking about WayneTech products as “my machines”, hasn’t he just admitted to Luthor that he is Bruce Wayne?

Need a hint? Just check out 
Another example of the psychic nosebleed courtesy of Nate Gray, the eponymous “X-Man.” In this scene from 

Detective Comics #833, 834 “Trust”
How long can Zatanna hold her breath? The world record for humans3 is a little over 9 minutes (9 minutes and 8 seconds, to be precise). Of course, that is someone who has been specially trained and has had time to prepare beforehand. By contrast, Zatanna has been caught by surprise, shot, and dumped in a tank of water — that definitely puts her at a disadvantage. Still, I think she would be able to hold her breath for at least 30- 60 seconds, maybe even longer, which should be enough time to write “EM LEAH” on the ceiling of the tank4. It looks like it takes Batman another minute or two to rescue her. She’s unconscious and hypoxemic, but not dead. If Batman can restore her breathing in time, she should not suffer any permanent problems.




Every issue of M.D. featured several realistic medical stories, each focused on a particular disease or condition. Issue #5 was the final issue of M.D. and frankly, it shows. The art is as intricate as always — if a little sensationalistic at times (particular when focusing on the grieving mother in the forefront of the panel, her fingers thrust worriedly at her lips) — but the stories are not nearly as compelling as in earlier issues, rather humdrum actually, which is unusual for any EC comic.
The first story finds Dr. Landon helping a tropical disease specialist doing research at Metro Hospital. When the specialist becomes feverish and collapses, Dr. Carlson is quick to recognize the symptoms of smallpox and the hospital is locked down under quarantine. A mini-epidemic breaks out in the community, but the hospital (and by the hospital, I mean Drs. Landon and Burke) are able to rein it in and restore order. This hospital quarantine is a common medical drama theme — just off the top my head, I remember seeing it in first season episodes of St. Elsewhere and Chicago Hope and a second season episode of House — but it is pulled off well here (and considering when this story was published, the idea had yet to become the cliché it is now).
Fresh out of high school, small town girl Linda Carter1 has been accepted into the prestigious nursing school Metro General2. She meets her two roommates: Christine, a rich girl trying to make it without her family’s money; and Georgia, an inner-city girl trying for a fresh start. They don’t get along at first, but soon become fast friends and help each other through the tough classes of nursing school3.
The heat causes a brown out and soon most of the city loses power. Luckily, the hospital has emergency generators so it maintains electrical power. This doesn’t sit well with some of the inner city residents who are convinced that the hospital is part of plot to steal their power. Two of them sneak into the hospital to plant a bomb on the emergency generator. Linda and her roommates catch the criminals in the act and a standoff ensues. One of the thugs turns out to be Georgia’s older brother, and he leaps on his partner when he pulls a gun on the student nurses. The hospital is saved, the girls are safe, Gloria has found her brother, and now Linda must give her boyfriend the answer to his marriage proposal…4
Another of EC’s “New Direction” comic books, Psychoanalysis is just that: a comic book about psychoanalysis. In each issue, a
Freddy Carter is the first patient. He is a 15 year-old who was caught stealing a watch from his best friend. The psychiatrist notices Freddy reading the sports page, but Freddy denies it vociferously. It turns out that while Freddy likes sports and is actually quite good at them, he pretends to dislike them and acts clumsy to anger his father, a devoted sportsman. Disliking sports also makes his mother happy as she prefers him to focus on the finer things in life such as music, art, and poetry — endeavors his father considers only for sissies. Delving deeper, the psychiatrist discovers that Freddy is purposefully trying to drive a wedge between his parents so that his mother will give all her love to him, and their definitely seems to be some oedipal aspects to their relationship. Just like last issue, the doctor tells Freddy in no uncertain terms that it is time for him to grow up and stop acting like a child.
















Scene from Gamma Corps #2 (Script by Tieri, art by Ferreira).








