No, not together.
I'm still sick. Or, sick again. Or something. I was feeling better yesterday, but, alas, I spent most of rounds this morning trying not to pass out. Which I didn't.
But I came home, I took a little nap, I felt a little better. I did some work, I made some pasta with copious amounts of garlic. Which, I mean, garlic makes everything better. And it's well known for its antibacterial properties. So maybe it'll help. And then later I had some hot chocolate. Which, again, chocolate makes everything better. Plus, there's, like, flavenoids. And it was skim milk, so, lots of calcium, and warm tryptophan to help me sleep. And cinnamon is known for its restorative qualities. So, tomorrow, I should be a-ok. But just in case, I have tomorrow off.
I was kind of a bitch about it today. My senior resident was trying to be like, no, you get four days off a month, blah, blah, blah, something about call falling on the weekend, and I was like, no way. I'm on call every Saturday. Every Saturday for the next four weeks. Which means I get a day off during the week. Because I'm legally obligated to get one day off in seven. And I'm on call every stinking weekend this month. Don't fuck with my day off, man, I get cranky. And technically, since I get two days off for the holiday next week, they could probably make me not take a day off tomorrow. But damn it, one day off in seven is not an unreasonable thing. And Mike gets, like the next three weekends off, AND the holidays, and doesn't have to take call from the 22nd through the 4th of January, because of the holiday coverage. So, friggin', leave me alone.
In totally unrelated news, Barb's poor dog Scout had a little puppy surgery, and is now stuck in a cone collar. Poor, sweet, really cute pooch. And then, because he can scratch the one incision with his hind leg, the vet suggested that Barb put a t-shirt on him. And that cracked me up. Because Maggie? HATES wearing clothes, the little nudist. She gets really annoyed any time I try to put her in them. As evidence, I present the following picture:
I'm still sick. Or, sick again. Or something. I was feeling better yesterday, but, alas, I spent most of rounds this morning trying not to pass out. Which I didn't.
But I came home, I took a little nap, I felt a little better. I did some work, I made some pasta with copious amounts of garlic. Which, I mean, garlic makes everything better. And it's well known for its antibacterial properties. So maybe it'll help. And then later I had some hot chocolate. Which, again, chocolate makes everything better. Plus, there's, like, flavenoids. And it was skim milk, so, lots of calcium, and warm tryptophan to help me sleep. And cinnamon is known for its restorative qualities. So, tomorrow, I should be a-ok. But just in case, I have tomorrow off.
I was kind of a bitch about it today. My senior resident was trying to be like, no, you get four days off a month, blah, blah, blah, something about call falling on the weekend, and I was like, no way. I'm on call every Saturday. Every Saturday for the next four weeks. Which means I get a day off during the week. Because I'm legally obligated to get one day off in seven. And I'm on call every stinking weekend this month. Don't fuck with my day off, man, I get cranky. And technically, since I get two days off for the holiday next week, they could probably make me not take a day off tomorrow. But damn it, one day off in seven is not an unreasonable thing. And Mike gets, like the next three weekends off, AND the holidays, and doesn't have to take call from the 22nd through the 4th of January, because of the holiday coverage. So, friggin', leave me alone.
In totally unrelated news, Barb's poor dog Scout had a little puppy surgery, and is now stuck in a cone collar. Poor, sweet, really cute pooch. And then, because he can scratch the one incision with his hind leg, the vet suggested that Barb put a t-shirt on him. And that cracked me up. Because Maggie? HATES wearing clothes, the little nudist. She gets really annoyed any time I try to put her in them. As evidence, I present the following picture:
This was her Halloween costume last year when we worked at the yarn shop. Boo.
And then there was Christmas.
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My poor dog...
4 comments:
Man, that dog can talk with her expressions, huh? I don't think I'd have tried the Santa outfit. Love that dog.
I have this really annoying tubucular cough but no other symptoms. Well, except for foot pain but apparently, there is no cure for that. Maybe I'll massage some garlic into it...
I guess my other symptom is that I can't spell. I meant to say "tubercular" but I guess you got that.
So cute! So cute! I miss the Maggie!
A dog who does not wear clothes? Oh MY! I have one that loves to wear JEWELRY--he is such a gangster. It is a little absurd.
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