Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Grown up

Today was loooong. And scattered. And involved too much traffic.

In other news, I bought new pants. The size I had is too big. The size down is too small. Argh. I opted for the smaller size, which won't fall off, but also only came in longer than my legs.

And I'm very disappointed in the selection of bachelorette party accoutrements at the local Adam and Eve (I never thought I'd be sentimental about the overpriced campiness at Lovers' Lane).

I did a lot of work today too.

So I'm going to bed. My goal was to be in bed by 8:30. Because I'm old. My revised goal is to be in bed by 9. Which is when I've been trying to go to bed anyway.

Dudes. I'm so tired.

And PS, my spell check just misspelled "accoutrements."

(See? Friday Fragments aren't really all that different from the norm around here...)

Monday, June 29, 2009


So, this morning, I literally had to bribe the heck out of myself to get out of bed and go to the gym. I don't actually remember what I promised myself (except buying this one song off of iTunes - it's a horrible bit of bubble gum pop that is on the gym's music channel a lot, and is disturbingly catchy - and loading it on the good iPod and taking that one to the gym), but, a half hour after I was supposed to get out of bed, I rolled into the gym. I did a half hour on the treadmill, didn't quite hit my target heart rate range, but got very sweaty and was nonetheless pleased that I actually made it.

So I come home, I shower, I walk the dog, I make it out the door on time, I get to work, all is well. I made good time. And then I get on the elevator in the basement, as per usual. I'm pulling the iPod out of my ears and fiddling with it when a very nice gentleman got on at the ground floor.

And then there was a clunk.

And we weren't moving.

The elevator seemed to think we were on the first floor. We thought we were probably a foot or two off the ground floor. We looked at each other. Nope, really not moving. I pushed the "door open" button. I tried to open the doors manually. No luck. He opened the panel marked "Fireman's Phone," but neither of us were firemen, so we lacked whatever key or device it took to make that work. I found the alarm button, and then finally saw the call button down near the floor.

The hospital police were very pleasant when we were like, "Uh, hi, we're stuck in the elevator." They were going to "try to find someone" in maintenance to come get us out.

Uh, okay, thanks. Meanwhile, we're still STUCK IN THE ELEVATOR.

Fortunately, neither of us was very freaked out by this. We had a nice chat. Turns out we have a mutual friend. He told me an interesting story about her I didn't know. At 7:55, I called the front desk (I had to hold my cell phone up near the top of the door and use the speakerphone to accomplish this) and was like, "Hey, it's Kate. I'm stuck in the employee elevator. Could you let my 8:00 know I'm going to be late?" The front desk staff was really amused...

But, after about fifteen or twenty minutes, maintenance finally showed up. The guy walked around on the top of the car for a while. That didn't work. And then eventually he got the doors open, and we were about four feet from the first floor. The officer that we'd been talking to through the doors and the maintenance guy were like, can you guys get out? The gentleman in the elevator with me was quite tall, so he was like, sure, no problem! And promptly hoisted himself out and went on his way.

I? Am not tall. I'm somewhat the opposite of tall. So I was like...can I get a step stool? But, ultimately, I stepped up on the handrail and crawled out. No problem.

It's good I've been going to the gym...

Sunday, June 28, 2009


So, tonight we had the welcome party for the incoming interns.

It was a hoot.

Eva (who is pregnant with twins. This is both wonderful and terrifying) and her husband hosted it. They have a great house for these sorts of things, and two absolutely hysterical dogs.

The new interns seem like a good crew. And they seem to be bonding well, which is a good sign. There are some definite unique personalities in there, in some really positive ways and in some ways that may turn out to be troublesome, but mostly they're a diverse and personable bunch. I think they'll be a good addition. I keep thinking of them as, like, the people I'm going to be handing my clinic patients off to in a year, so it's important to me who they are as people. It's nice to be thinking of them like that and not as fresh meat who would take the crisis pager away from me (thank GOD), which is pretty much how the outgoing intern class always sees the ones coming in (i.e., I really, really like the class behind mine, but last year at this time, I was just like, oh, I don't care who you are, thank God you're here...).

The new academic year starts Thursday. I can't believe I've got two years down already. Moving on, moving up....

Saturday, June 27, 2009

Where's my day of rest?

It was a busy day. It's gonna be a busy day tomorrow. Oy.

The dogs woke me up at 6:30 (on a Saturday!! Need to get those girls a calendar) by dive-bombing me. So I finally agreed and got up, Mags and I went to Starbucks (Maxine got to stay home in Maggie's crate, which she just loved. It was adorable. She thought she was queen of the world), and then I came home and worked on a knitting project that's due next Saturday. I spent two hours at the gym. I picked up my bridesmaid's dress - which, blissfully, is the right length and doesn't need to be altered - and my shoes, and a new skin for my phone (the old one fell apart today). I went to work for three or four hours and moved most of my stuff to my new desk in our new office (the Pink Office is going prime time, folks. We're a little worried, given the nature of the conversations that go on in there on a daily basis). I also cleared out all my files and my big stack of papers and my drawer of, as Ruthie calls it, Nuclear Holocaust food (I had a lot of microwave-in-the-pouch rice stuff in there). The dogs are fed and walked...and I'm really, really tired.

I met my new trainer at 9. She's nice. She's a she. That's a little weird. Gomer she ain't, but, maybe the change is good. We're going to call her Kelly. She's blonde and thin (she has a very athletic build, though, she's not a twig) and younger than me, but easy to talk to and, as she says, "probably a little more gentle and sensitive that your last trainer." So far I like her, which is more than I could say for Gomer after our first session. He grew on me, though, obviously.

But one thing she definitely has on him was that she seemed to take me seriously today. We did our little assessment, which was way more involved than the one Gomer and I did (his was all weights and measures. She tested my balance, my heart rate recovery, my lifting endurance), and she was consistently just like, alright, here it is. And she seemed reasonably impressed (I maxed out on the 40lb chest press at 40 reps. Our new goal is 50 reps of 55 lbs in the next 8 months. I don't know why 8 months, but, okay). Now, she also has the benefit of getting me after six months of Gomer, which Gomer obviously did not. But he was sort of like, "Yeah, whatever" in the beginning, until I actually did what he told me to between sessions and didn't drop out and was like, "bring it on." She also did a really good job of being like, "Okay, you're a doctor, I don't need to explain things like BMI to you or why it's useless." She also was like, "great," when I said I didn't want weight to be a goal. Gomer, our first day, was like, "Let's try to get you to lose 10 lbs this month." I said, "Well, let's just do what we do and see where I end up." He didn't seem to know what to do with that answer. He got over it. Gomer really did do an awesome job of "getting over it," in a lot of different ways.

I had to pick a goal for our training work, either "lean," "healthy," or "strong." Now, as she pointed out, you head for one, the others will follow, but, they have different schemas depending on what you pick. I thought about it for a minute, and picked lean.

This was kind of huge for me (no pun intended). Because I'm never going to be skinny. Ever. My calculated lean body mass alone (so, none of the fat, just muscle and bone and organs and whatnot) rests right at the lower cusp of "obese" on the BMI range (because BMI is USELESS. Ahem). And I don't intend to stop building lean body mass just yet. But my frame is too big, and my genes too curvy, for me to ever be skinny. So I spend so much time trying to accept that fact that it feels a little like I might be setting myself up for failure by making this choice. But, the goal, really, isn't "skinny." It's "change my body" - not, primarily, my cardiovascular health or my endurance or my muscle strength - which is more reasonable, and more healthy, but also just a huge-huge-hugely-huge step out of the "safe" zone for me. "Fat" is an easy thing to blame when things go wrong. "Fat" is a useful device for internalizing my anger and self-deprecation and all those other things that go along with a history like mine. "Fat" is also protective against having to relive that history. It gives me a wall to put up when I need one ("He'd never be interested. I'm too fat. Good reason not to take the risk"). I don't know what I'd look like any other way, what I'd feel like, what it would be like to be me. This is frustrating and annoying (and, in a lot of ways - mostly influenced by my underactive thyroid and my polycystic ovaries - not as within my control as I might like to think), but it's also....safe.

So it's really interesting, this (we're going to go with "interesting"). Most of that minute I was thinking about it, I was thinking, is this something I'm ready to do? To focus on? To say, I accept this, but I want something different? To let go of all that it means, symbolizes, and provides?

I think I am.

And, you know, my real goal is still to accept who I am, whatever size, whatever else it means, no matter what. To feel better in my body and in my skin, to live here and live fully. So it fits that I'm not really working towards a weight goal (although I have a safe body fat percentage as a target) and not really working in a rigid time frame. It just is what it is, it comes as it comes, it moves forward and backward as it needs to. And we'll see where it goes.

Look, y'all, no one said it was normal inside my head...

Friday, June 26, 2009

Friday Fragments, first edition

So, if you look hard enough in the blogosphere, you can find at least six themes for every day of the week. Barb recently introduced me to the idea of Friday Fragments, though, which I loved. It's basically a melange of randomness.

Much like my brain.

I can't say I plan to do every Friday like this (look at how Love Thursday goes most weeks...) but it's worth the old college try, right? So here goes....

I had the weirdest day today. Perhaps the highlight was that one of my patients announced their engagement to another patient they met at State Hospital last month. It's a match made on Axis II...

Little Maxine is staying with us for the weekend, which I think I mentioned yesterday. She really likes to sleep under my bed. She's just barely small enough to do it. I find this a little weird.

Here's a funny link.

My therapy kids (15 and 16) never cease to amaze me. I don't remember high school being so rough. I mean, I guess when I think about it hard enough, it probably was just as bad, but I don't remember having to deal with quite as much as they do on such a daily basis.

Never, never never, never never name your child Crystal. Or Destinee. They run a exponentially higher risk of ending up in the mental health system. It's a fact.

I often will fall asleep watching Law and Order:SVU. Somehow, it makes me feel safer... I met the Olivia Benson of our county one day at work. She was very nice, and I'm glad there are real people like that out there doing their job.

In related news, I'm already over the Michael Jackson thing, but it's been really interesting to watch the Facebook feed about all of this. Half of them are like, "I can't believe he's gone!" and the other half are "Good riddance, pedophile!" The man made some really classic music for my generation (my cousin and I used to play the "Thriller" album over and over in his room on this ridiculous brown tape recorder with gigantic buttons that was probably from, like, Fisher-Price or something). But he was a sick man and a lost soul and I think he appeared to be severely mentally ill. Which does not excuse what he probably did do to those children (and many others), but makes it somehow less malicious.

(Come to think of it, though, there WAS an SVU episode about him, without actually being about him....)

Next weekend, we're having Peng's bachelorette party. In the middle of the afternoon. On a Friday. But, that's okay, I like a challenge. So in the midst of planning this, I got recruited to be a Passion Party representative. I was like, um, I'm a doctor; my day job is more than enough, thanks. But where were you when I was selling Mary Kay in college?

I like this:

Thursday, June 25, 2009

What the heck?

What's with all the dead celebrities? First Ed McMahon (who's gonna bring me my Publisher's Clearinghouse Winnings now?). Then Farrah Fawcett. Then Michael Jackson.

Who knew celebrity was so bad for your health?

So, I've been on walk-ins the past two days. Blissfully, it was not awful. Yesterday I didn't see a single patient, weirdly. I directed traffic a bit, but the rest of the crisis team saw the people that showed up and I got to go to lecture. Weirdly, no one showed at all until the afternoon.

Same thing happened today - no one arrived before 2, I think. There was a woman in the ER I had to dispo to New State Hospital, but, it's not like I haven't done that a couple hundred times. Peng and I ordered lunch (to use up my extra meal card money, which is about to disappear next week) for Magical Corrina the All-Knowing, who is changing jobs (although staying in the department - whew!), and Elise, her replacement (through no likely coincidence, Elise is also her spouse. I don't think it's nepotism, actually. I think it's that they knew Elise and had already figured out that she was awesome). So we ordered subs from this Italian place in town and sat and ate lunch together, and it was delightful.

I decided, after lunch, to try and organize my office, because we're changing offices next week (the Pink Office is moving to a more central location. It's terrifying, I'm sure). Which is, of course, when all the walk-in patients started showing up. Four of them turned up. At least three needed admission.

I finished mine in time, though to have a chat with my program director about this ongoing issue I've been having with one of the attendings. I'll probably say more about this eventually, but she was really supportive, and able to stay very objective, and I can't even begin to tell you how much that means to me.

So after work I picked up Little Maxine, because Sparrow's out of town for the weekend. The small one was a very cute little travelling companion for the drive home, and turned into a tiny hellion when we got here. She walked in the house and promptly started to poop on the floor. ::sigh...:: But, all seems to be well again. She and Maggie are playing a game of chase at the moment. I love it when they actually get along...

I think the furry ones and I are going to bed down for the night, now, though. I've been going to the gym at a quarter past dark this week, in the mornings before work. I'm liking it, but I'm definitely still adjusting. So we're sleeping in tomorrow. You know, like, 6:45.

Mi vida loca, people....

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Notice the padlock. And lack of fence...

(Click to enlarge)

(I know I don't usually post pictures of people on the blog, but I have permission. This is my good friend from college, Pastor Mike. Several of you knew him when. He's out west now tending the flock and whatnot.)

(I also know I'm not being very "wordless" today. Oh well. But I'm pretty sure words in parentheses don't count. Right, Barb?)

Tuesday, June 23, 2009


I love Facebook.

When I was in high school, my cousin came in to our family (not Danielle. I have other cousins. These are actual cousins). She was born in the States to a Russian woman who couldn't afford any more children, and so she made what I think is one of the most selfless decisions one can possibly choose - she gave her up for adoption. And so my cousin - we'll call her Athena - was born. Her new parents (my cousins) were at the hospital when she was delivered. They spoke with her mother. They left the most adorable message on our answering machine telling us what exciting news they had. A daughter! A little girl!! A sweet little baby of their very own, something they had been hoping and praying for and wanting for a long, long time.

Some months later, we went to visit, and I saw, on their refrigerator, a Family Circus cartoon. It was two kids talking, and the one was saying, "I'm really lucky. I got to pick my parents. I'm adopted." I thought this was just the best thing ever.

Four years later, another little Russian girl joined the family. Same situation - my cousins made it to the hospital in a whole different state while our other cousins worked around the clock to get the nursery ready. Same excitement. Same joy. And Aphrodite completed their family.

Aphrodite and Athena were a great addition. They were adorable kids. Athena was really sensitive, sweet, kind of emotional. Aphrodite was generally fearless and funny. They were a lot of fun to visit. And they've grown up into pretty awesome adolescents. I'm excited to know them as women someday.

Strangely, they look a lot like me. I'm half-"xeno" (white person), so my coloring is pretty different from the rest of the family. I was always a sandy blonde, pasty white, blue eyed kid in the middle of all of these dark haired, dark eyed, olive skinned people. Aphrodite and Athena, when they were small, and we were out together - strangers would always tell me what beautiful children I had. I've always thought of them as nothing less than related, but - like the cartoon said - the way they came to us always seemed a little more special.

And their parents, my cousins, are two of my favorite people. So you can imagine my dismay when, sometime when Aphrodite was very small, it was announced that they weren't telling the girls they were adopted.


I was dumbfounded by this. Not now? Or not ever? I couldn't understand why it wasn't open knowledge from the start. This was a great story! These were our girls! Why would we want to pretend they were anything other than what they were? I was so disappointed in my cousins.

And let me tell you, I know the damage big family secrets can cause. You might think you can keep it secret, but you never can. It always gets out - somebody knows, invariably. And in a case like this? When EVERYBODY knows? Come on. These things always hurt way worse (if they had to hurt at all in the first place) when the cat is let out of the bag. Because there must be something shameful about it if we had to keep it a secret, right? Whereas, if you just let the cat wander around from the beginning, things tend to be better. You deal with it, acknowledge it, move on. And in a case like this, where there's really nothing shameful, nothing to hide...not to mention, we have some other cousins who are...let's go with...opportunistic. If they had thought it to their advantage to drop that bomb on the girls one day ("Well, she's not your real mom anyway!"), I have no faith that they wouldn't have taken it in an instant.

This secrecy, as you can probably guess, has bothered me for years.

So, tonight, I'm on Facebook, and Athena and I are FB friends (duh), and she's posted a little "How well do you know Athena?" quiz. Which, of course, I have to take, because she's my little cousin (turns out I know her 80%). And one of the questions was, "Which country was I adopted from?"

I seriously almost cried. All I could think was Thank God. And then I happily clicked "Russia."

I sent her a message, though, after I finished the quiz. I asked when her parents told her, and I told her I thought it was great that she and her sister knew. And I told her how awesome it was that I got to have her as part of my family.

And then I thought of that cartoon on the refrigerator.

Which I couldn't find on Google.

So I'll give you this one instead.

Monday, June 22, 2009


Everyone go over to my cousin's blog and read her post.

My cousin Danielle - who isn't actually my biological cousin but we grew up together, and we're Greek, so it's the same thing - is officially a court-appointed child advocate (again. In Texas, this time). This is a goal she's been working on and thinking about and planning for a while, and it's a big step in a really positive direction for her. And I'm really, really proud of her.

Way to go, D!

Sunday, June 21, 2009

Father's day

Today is the day we celebrate all things paternal. So Happy Father's Day to one and all who are fathers, grandfathers, or stand-in fathers. You do a heck of an important job.

But an especially happy Father's Day to the poor guy who's had to put up with me for the last 30 years.

My dad. What a clown.

(Love you, Dad)

(Maggie says, "Woof!" I think that means, ditto)

Saturday, June 20, 2009


I have a new camera.

I had a conversation with a friend of mine out in California over some pictures he took at some other friends' party. They were awesome, and I was really impressed with the quality. I asked what he was shooting with, and he had just gotten a Canon Rebel (higher end than I could afford), but it turns out they make a relatively inexpensive one (for a dSLR camera), and I've been price-watching for a while. Someone finally offered up a deal I still can't quite afford, but I'm considering it a combined "hooray for getting into fellowship" and "way to survive another year" gift for myself.

The battery finally charged up, and I shot some pictures with it, just around my living room.

Oh. I LOVE it.

It's upgradeable and gorgeous and there are other lens kits and I totally love the picture quality. The color balance is SO much better than my old one (I was constantly having to fix the colors on the Kodak). It's got that rapid-action shooting feature I like so much. You can shoot really nice point-and-shoot stuff on it, or manipulate it like a traditional reflex-lens camera.

Wowie. Wowie, wowie, wowie, am I excited. Because you know how much I fancy myself an amateur photographer. This makes me giddy with the idea of going out shooting tomorrow (we'll see if I have time).

I also joined a new gym today, because I went to the Peak (the chain where I've been going since December, where Gomer lived until yesterday, which is closing all its Triangle locations) near where I live now, and it has already closed. But there was a notice on the door stating that Lifestyle Family Fitness was absorbing our contracts, and they just happen to be next door to my apartment. So, I said, fine. I stormed over there and said, okay, what can you do for me?

As it turns out, not much.

Well, that's not true. There's not much they can do about my current membership, which was prepaid for two years. Two years. It seemed like SUCH a good deal at the time. It worked out to being, like, $12 a month...except...oops.

They really screwed me on this.

I might be able to get out of my training contract, because Gomer no longer works for them. Which is great for him - as I told him earlier, I had no doubt he'd land on his feet. And I have an intake appointment next Saturday with a trainer at the new place. She's very nice, but I can already tell, she's no Gomer. Among other things, she's nowhere near as scenic. And I like to think Gomer and I have gotten to be friends by this point, despite the fact that I hated him when we started.

It's a big change.

But the new gym said, well, come in and work out. And it was really nice. Click on the link up there, and then membership, and take the virtual tour. My club really does look like that. All the machines work. There's TONS of 'em. And they're the Life Fitness ellipticals that I like (we have two at the gym in CH, and a bunch of these black ones that I'm too short for). There's separate areas for the free motion machines, the Hammer Strength machines (which have the big weight plates), and the Life Fitness machines (which have weight stacks). And there's a whole separate personal training area (they say it's "private", but, it's kind of in the middle of everything). They have two classrooms, one for high intensity cardio, and one for yoga and pilates. The locker rooms are clean, and very nice, although they still don't have towels for the showers (I was spoiled by the fitness center in medical school. That one had shampoo and soap in the wall, real towels, and a hair dryer bar). And all the cardio machines have those little TVs on them, with limited cable, which was awesome (I watched a whole episode of Royal Pains while I worked out. It was cute). Plus, there's tanning, and childcare, if you're into those sorts of things.

All in all, it was a pretty cool facility.

And the crowd there today was definitely more fit, "pretty" people than my old gym (which was mostly over 60, although those old people could kick my ass), but nobody acted like I didn't belong there. And when I said, I might need a new trainer, they were like, "Of course. Come over here, we'll set you up." I really appreciated that. The staff was very friendly, and the people seemed nice enough. Plus, they gave me a decent rate, with no admin fees (because I was coming from Peak), and they're part of IHSRA, which means I can work out at member clubs all over the country (i.e., Chicago) as part of my membership here.

We'll see how it goes, I guess.

I'm still not sure what I think about breaking up with my trainer. And leaving him for a woman.

There's a lot of changes going on around here...

Friday, June 19, 2009


I did not sleep well last night. Not entirely sure...well, okay, I was too busy being anxious.

Meanwhile, today, I was so tired all damn day. So much so that there was coffee at lunch so I could manage to not fall asleep during my afternoon sessions.

The caffeine has worn off, officially. My brain is mush.

So, I give you, this. It's entertaining.

That's dedication to the craft.

(I can't believe he wouldn't sell it to Ripley's!)

Thursday, June 18, 2009

I just hope mine never ends up on there...

Click. Read. Laugh. Be forewarned, however, that a couple of them are not entirely safe for work...

Today was my last day going to the coast. I'm definitely not going to miss the commuting, but I'm rather going to miss the people on my ACT team. It was a good experience, and I'm glad I did it. And I'm happy to know my way around our little coastal town, now, because it's a great day trip...or weekend...I just need people who might want to come with. Any takers?

It was a nice time today. I went out with one of the nurses, who is one of my favorite people on the team, and who sadly is leaving before Fritz shows up to take over for me. We saw some people, gave some shots, and talked candidly about the team, mental health in general, politics, and a whole range of things. We got some lunch (Taco Bell, which was a little disappointing, because there's some great restaurants out there, but, alas, also work that needs to be done) and then wandered to the little Asian market next door, which is very fun. And then I went to the yarn shop out there, which is one of my favorite yarn stores, ever. I bought some great sock yarn (non-knitters don't understand about souvenir yarn, but you knitters know what I'm talking about. AND I got a gift for my Christmas in July Secret Santa, so that doesn't count, because it doesn't actually add to the ever-growing stash...). And then I hit the Starbucks near the college, like I always do on my way out of town, and came home. There was a little rain on the way in, but on the whole, it was another gorgeous day at the North Carolina coast.

It was a nice day, but I'm so exhausted. I meant to be in bed an hour ago, but then I got sidetracked, and then I realized I hadn't eaten dinner, and then I had to do that, and then I had to answer some emails, and then I had to write a blog....

Maggie's already asleep, though. Smart girl.

Oh, and PS, my meeting with my program director of course went fine. She gave me some guidance on the issue with which I'd come to her in the first place, and it built nicely on the advice I'd been given by my dynamic supervisor earlier in the day about not letting one person bully me into doing something that wasn't helpful for me. Also smart.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Every now and then every girl needs...

Which is a reference to this song:

(I really like Leann Rimes. Like, as an entity. She's grown up quite gracefully.)

Today did not go especially well.

Call was fine. I was on with Scott and then Fang. Scott, who was on for the third time in five days and was supposed to leave by 10pm, left at 2am. Which was partially my (and Fang's) fault - we kept talking to him. If we'd just ignored him and made him write his notes, maybe he would've gotten out of there before I went to bed. But on the whole, the evening did not suck.

Strangely, I'm not as excited about this "end of call" thing as I want to be. I'm a little freaked out by it, frankly. Like, it definitely marks the end of something, a change, an evolution of my professional life. For the past seven years it's been part of my identity. Even when I was "on sabbatical" and not actively taking call, it was something I did, planned to do again, a fact of my life. It's something that is very different from normal people's jobs.

I don't think I'm trying to say I'm afraid to be normal. I just think, it's a shift. A harbinger of change.

I spent a good deal of time today contemplating the difference between novelty and change. I like novelty. Change makes me anxious. But I'm not entirely certain how they're different.

Gomer sent me a weirdly cryptic text yesterday afternoon, saying "be sure to watch the news tonight for important gym information." I was like, what?? I finally pestered him again around 11, because there was no "watching the news" in my evening, and he confirmed what I've been saying for over a month - our gym is closing. June 30th. Frack. So we talked about it a bit and came up with a plan because they were going to relocate him to the location Ruthie goes to. It's a meat market, and everyone from work goes there, but I like my trainer and so, fine, for him I'd go to Ruthie's club. Except then, this morning, there was this article in the local paper saying that the chain is closing all of the Triangle locations within three months.

I'm so not pleased. I like my gym. I like the people at my gym. My gym is comfortable and generally emotionally safe. I have gym friends. Where are we all going to go?

Allegedly, the gym that's next door to my apartment bought out all of my gym's current contracts. Which, I guess that's handy. I don't know what that means for me and Gomer. I like Gomer. Gomer and I work well together. He's pretty. He's also comfortable and generally emotionally safe.

Do they not understand how hard it is for me to go to the gym in the first place? Some day I'll post about just how unbelievably charged this whole thing actually is for me...

I also got my TSH drawn today. My doc and I have been steadily increasing my dose of thyroid hormone for several months now. At the last draw, it was down to high-normal, which meant it was responding to a reasonable dose of the meds. That was three months ago. Today? The highest it's ever been. What the fuck, people? That makes no sense.

I also got called into the principle's office today. Okay, because of a problem I went to her with, but I have to go meet with my program director tomorrow. I feel like I'm so very in trouble, primarily because of the way she worded her email, which was not actually indicative of me being so very in trouble, but rather of her paying attention to what I was saying. However, she happened to use the exact same phrase that my program director at the Emerald Palace used to basically tell me they wanted to put me on probation ("We should talk about this." Not exactly an uncommon bit of verbiage). That's definitely not what's happening here. But logically knowing that doesn't make me any less anxious about it.

A couple of other things happened. All in all, it was not a good day.

But then, I got a little nap, got a little shower (since I finally went to the gym today, and of course, now there's NO air conditioning at all), and went and picked Maggie up from the daycare. And then I went and got a cheap manicure at this place I went to a couple of times when I lived here first year. They're extremely reasonable and they do pretty good work. And then I went and had dinner with Sparrow and Rene at this local Mexican place I've been wanting to try (Ruthie got lost and Peng was on call, but I like to think they were there in spirit). And by the end of that, I felt so. much. better.

LeAnn knows what she's talking about.

Thanks, ladies.

Monday, June 15, 2009

You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here.

(which is a reference to this song. In case you missed it)

It's Last Call, people.

Barring extenuating circumstances, tonight is my very last overnight in-house call EVER IN MY WHOLE LIFE. This boggles my mind, because as an OB, I could've still been taking call the day I retired. Psych? Notsomuch.

This is beautiful.

It's also really, really weird.

And it's also 2am. So, I'm going to stretch out on our little pink chair for the last time and get some zzzs in while I can...

Sunday, June 14, 2009


It's been a busy weekend.

Friday was Graduation. I, of course, was not graduating, but it was a really good time. There's a group of people in the program right now (whom I referred to several times as "the core group of smartasses") whom I just really like. Funny, smart, sassy, some are loud, some are more stealthy. And there are several of our faculty whom I just really enjoy both on and off the clock. I mean, on the whole, I work with really good people. But some of them are just particularly fun.

I was driving home Friday night and thinking, wow. I'm so grateful to be where I am. Several people in their graduation speeches referred to the department as "family," and, I agree. Things aren't perfect, and some days we like each other more than others, but when the chips are down, you know you can count on the people around you. I like that. It's a nice change. I was thinking how awesome it was that right now, things are hard because residency is hard work, not because the people who claim to have my back are busy sticking a knife in it.

Saturday was a lazy day, until Porkfest II (you'll remember last year's. The idea was, Mike made a few key dishes - including his phenomenal pulled pork. It's epic - and everybody brought something to share. But the caveat is, whatever you bring - salad, entree, side, dessert, whatever - has to have pork in it). Blogger, sadly, won't let me upload the pictures, so the full details will have to wait. But it was a good, good time. I got to meet May's girlfriend and June's boyfriend, both of whom I liked very much (I'm always impressed with people in residency who can meet and date people outside the hospital. And good people at that). A couple of Mike's local friends were there, as well as his roommate (whom I also like very much. He tolerates all of us remarkably well). We hung out and ate well and chatted and laughed and had a good time. Bernie's husband Scotty (who gets this pseudonym because he is - wait for it - Scottish) helped us out with our now-annual-tradition of prank-calling the crisis pager. Scotty told...uh...Scott (I didn't think this pseudonym thing through very well, but since Scott already had his...well, try to keep up), who happened to have the misfortune of being on call for Porkfest, that he was distraught over David Carradine's death ("Who's going to do all those Kung Fu movies now?!") and had been drinking for four days and now wanted to kill himself ("it should been meeeeeee in that closet!" he wailed). So Scott asks him who's with him. Scotty says, "my brother and my mum," and Scott asks to talk to his brother. So Scotty puts down the phone, talks to himself for a minute, and then picks it back up claiming to be his brother.

Scott may have gotten wise to us at this point, because he told Scotty, "I think your brother is suffering from multiple personality disorder. You sound an awful lot like your brother..."

But Scotty kept it up until we decided poor Scott'd had enough, and even at that Bernie and I practically needed to tackle him to get the phone back. I offered to bring Scott some food for being such a good sport. He was not especially amused by us, I think.

We, on the other hand, were totally amused by us. Oh, Lord, I almost wet myself...it was classic. Scotty did a helluva job, no joke.

We kicked around for a while after that. One of my favorite social workers showed up, which was a good time. I left around 1, and it was a good night.

Today, I got a lot done. I'd turned in around 3, and unfortunately woke up at 8:45. Bleh. So I stubbornly stayed in bed for another hour, and then got up, got dressed, and went to the State Farmer's Market, which is always a good time. I got a lot of fruit and absolutely no pork products (I'm a little porked out, frankly). I also bought a giant tomato plant, which I'm hoping to find a pot for (I think I may have officially killed the lemon tree I have that was older than me, although the other plant I thought was long since dead is showing some nice signs of life. And the other lemon tree has just exploded since we moved. I pruned everything today, so, we'll see). And then I went to the Fresh Market to get the rest of my groceries (still no pork). I did dishes, I did laundry, I washed fruit, I fussed. And then Sparrow called, and she and Maxine and Maggie and I checked out the dog park close to the hospital. We hung out there for a couple of hours, until all the involved parties were worn out. Maggie's been asleep ever since we got home. I've been finishing up the laundry and dishes and fussing and made dinner and she barely even lifted her head to pester me for my table scraps.

She's right. It's definitely time to go to bed.

Saturday, June 13, 2009


I have much to tell y'all. But it's 2:30 in the morning and I want to go to bed. I got home about an hour ago from Porkfest II (will link tomorrow to the post about last year's festivities) and will tell you all about it tomorrow. Meanwhile, here's a preview:

(It's sausage. Wrapped in bacon)

Friday, June 12, 2009


Watch this:

I find this weird.

A, why was she looking at her own intestine? I mean, fine, I had my tonsils in a jar when I was a kid. And yes, I have laparoscopic pictures from my appendectomy. And my pathology prof in medical school kept slides of my appendix for me (he just never got around to giving them to me)...you know what, never mind, I think I have lost my right to comment on her having her own slides...

But good for her. I mean, I'm sorry she has Crohn's, but far better to know that now than to keep thinking she has Irritable Bowel until she perforates something. And good for her for being vigilant. And why isn't she planning on medical school? According to my friend the pathologist, the world needs vigilant pathologists.

I still think it's weird.

Thursday, June 11, 2009

Also counting.

My very dear little niece, Annalise, is two today. I can't believe she's that old already!! I made her a blanket when my cousin was pregnant - it was the first real crochet project I ever did. I had to have Joyce at the yarn shop teach me how to crochet so I could even start it. That seems like yesterday.


Happy birthday, kiddo!


I can count two posts yesterday as covering my post for today, right?

Sweet Mary Jane, am I tired.

Drove to the coast today. I have one more week of doing that, then I'm done with AHEC. Potentially forever - there's an AHEC requirement in fellowship, but I'm hoping to be at the county child abuse and maltreatment clinic, which isn't technically part of AHEC but (I'm told) should still count for my requirement.

I like my ACTT people. And they just got a new substance abuse counselor, who seems nice. Fritz is going to be their guy next year, and I think he'll do well there. They'll like him. He'll be too tall for the plane, but he's probably used to that. Fritz is a nice guy, I hope it goes well for him.

I feel like the free-range crazy chasing has fallen, for me, into a greater pattern of unrest. As my supervisor so eagerly pointed out, I've been very unsettled this year. I really, really liked the people I worked with at the ACT team (I would've switched sites mid-year if I didn't. In a heartbeat), and I really liked the work we did, but I really wish I'd had a little more consistency. And with all of the not going because of call, because I was on day float or night float, because I was sick, because the weather sucked, because I was on vacation...it made it hard to settle in. Some of that would've been better if my location were closer - i.e., there were several days I could probably made it through a day locally, but I was feeling way too sick to drive five hours or have my eardrums explode on an unpressurized plane. The weather, obviously, would've been a trivial influence instead of what turned out to be a huge one. The rest, well...that's part of the scatteredness of second year. Which, in general, I'm happy to leave behind. Because it's funny how, even though I'm scattered to all sorts of places, I'm still plenty responsible to the places I've left behind.

It's exhausting.

Wednesday, June 10, 2009


Oh. And in answer to some recent queries...

1. Carol - I bought yarn at the yarn store. Ha! No, seriously, I bought two colors of this merino/silk blend and a ball of Kidsilk Haze for projects which I will detail later. Maybe this weekend, maybe after Peng's wedding, but probably this weekend because they're not exactly secret, and only one is for her. I just need time to sit and write about it.

2. Maggie only gets to go to daycare when I'm on call, which means, sadly, that she only has one more little visit to daycare left (that's sad for her, not me). I mean, she'll stay there when I go home in July and December and when I go to Hawaii in October and any other times I might choose to leave town without her, but for the day to day, next Monday is it. However, we have a very nice dog walker who comes every day. He's an older, retired military guy and she adores him. He's really very fond of her, too. I like having him come, but I wish I had the funds to maybe put her in daycare one day a week, because I KNOW she loves hanging out with the other dogs. When I'm not post-call, though, I rarely make it home before 6pm when their pickup hours end (which is why the dog walker comes this year, because my days are looong). So maybe when I'm a Child Fellow, on the day I'm at State Hospital all day. We'll see.

3. I have not, I promise, forgotten about the prizes from the lyrics contest. I've just been working too much and moving (Julie moved, too) and now I can't remember where the post office is. Plus, Jenn, I have some finishing touches to put on something that's going in your box. But I need to send that stuff out, soon, because I'm thinking of doing the lyrics contest again. That was fun. But...patience. I promise it'll be worth the wait, and I'll be more expedient next time (that's a lie. I just moved the box of Barb's stuff I was going to mail to her for Christmas. Which is lucky, because we had to add something for the puppy). Hopefully within the next couple of weeks. (Julie, you need to Facebook me your new mailing address!)

4. I had a really, really long day. So long, in fact, that I just typed "That was fun. But...patients." And then looked at it for a good twenty seconds thinking, no...that looks wrong... So I'm going to bed. Oh, but not before I add...

5. Anonymous - NO PANTS!!

I so should make one of these for my dad...

(Pattern here)

Tuesday, June 09, 2009


Sometimes the day after the day after call is even more tired than being post-call. Add the fact that I was on walk-ins today (so, day call, really), and that leaves me beyond run-down.

Maggie gets all worn out on my call days, too, when she goes to the daycare.

We're tired, y'all.

It's storming out there, pretty badly, but Maggie doesn't seem to mind. I think we'll go to bed and knit and listen to the storm...

Monday, June 08, 2009


I think my brain has liquefied and is now dripping out my ear...yesterday was horrendous. I had eight follow-up consults and saw a lot of patients in the ER and was up until 2:00 writing notes and then blissfully I got about four or so hours of sleep (thanks, Peng! Such a good Night Float) until Family paged me to try and dump a patient on us.

We had the world's longest checkout and then I had to call back one of my patients. Who called from the hospital. Which was weird, but at least he wasn't calling from the psych ward.

I was going to go to the gym after I left work, but, of course...I forgot my pants. Which, I can't work out without pants, at least not at the gym (no pants!). So I went to Target, where my weird headache turned into a full-on migraine. I was queasy. Things were loud, and smelly. Bleh. But 800mg of Motrin helped. All of the caffeine I drank finally kicked in. And so I ended up taking a very meandering trip to the yarn store (through two bookstores and an eco-stuff store) and lost about 45 minutes somewhere in the yarn store, so I was two minutes late (i.e., their pickup time is 5-6, I got there at 6:02) picking up Maggie from the daycare.

She's tired, too. There was some whimpering when we left the daycare - she looooves the daycare - but she's done nothing but sleep (and beg for cheese) since we got home.

Come to think of it...she's got a good idea.

Sunday, June 07, 2009

Worst. Consult. Ever.

So I get this page...

Me: Hi, this is Dr. Kate, I'm returning a page?
Her: Yeah, hi, this is so-and-so med student, I was hoping you'd do a consult on my patient.
Me: What's her story?
Her: Well, she has a history of Crohn's disease, and is on prednisone, and four years ago when she was on prednisone, she became psychotic.
Me: Okay.
Her: So will you see her?
Me: Is she psychotic now?
Her: No.
Me: ...um...then there's not really anything for us to do.
Her: Well, also, four years ago she was discharged on Abilify, which she hasn't taken in about three and a half years. Should we restart her on this?
Me: Is she psychotic?
Her: No.
Me: Well, then let's hold off on the anti-psychotics.
Her: So my attending would like you to see her because he's worried about keeping her on the prednisone.
Me: Well, she's tolerating it. And not psychotic. So I'd say, if she needs it, keep doing what you're doing and call us back if she gets psychotic.
Her: Yeah. Okay. Thanks.
Me: Anytime.

Apparently, this whole exchange actually started with her paging Scott, my intern. Who told her she was paging the wrong person. And then added, "So, I'd start out by telling her you're a medical student. Because, otherwise? I don't see this going well..."

Saturday, June 06, 2009

One-day weekend

Tomorrow? Is my very very last weekend call EVER. Which - thank GOD, because I hate weekend call, and tomorrow looks crazy busy.

But, nonetheless, I'm on tomorrow, so of course I had to try and cram a whole weekend into half the time. I slept in (sort of...I didn't actually sleep that late, but I refused to get out of bed). Gomer kicked my ass. A lot. There were wind sprints involved (Or as I like to think of them, "wheeze sprints." I had to go get my inhaler...argh) and throwing of 15lb medicine balls. And then I was going to do more time on the treadmill, but, damn, I was just finished. So I did a five minute cooldown and then took my funky, sweaty self over to the Whole Paycheck, which entailed buying a zillion pounds of fruit (I was hungry and had no oxygen going to my brain...), two bottles of this Syrah that I like (on sale. Much better price), and standing in the frozen food section for a good long while trying to remember what I was supposed to buy (see above re: lack of sugar/oxygen). I drove home, hung out with Maggie, showered, napped a little, and then had a nice night out with Peng - makeup fussing (wedding is in FOUR WEEKS. Ack! Where's my dress?!), then wine tasting (I acquired a nice Riesling) and dinner (not awe-inspiring, but decent). And then we went back to her apartment and she fed me homemade mint-chocolate chip ice cream, which Chef made with fresh mint that they had grown in their kitchen window. Seriously awesome. Plus, we're making headway on having a plan for the bachelorette party/wedding weekend festivities. So, really, rah.

But, looking at the consult list I have to cover tomorrow, I'd better get to bed. I don't need to be in until about half an hour later than I usually do (call starts at 8:30), but I have to drop Mags off at the spa first. She's excited. I think I'm going to have them give her a pedicure while she's there. I don't think she's very excited about that...

Last weekend call EVER folks. That? That's definitely exciting.

Friday, June 05, 2009


Today....you know, it really wasn't awful, but, I'm still glad it's over.

My day started with a very nice lecture on adolescents and substance abuse and I was reminiscing a little about what a "good" group of kids I ran with in high school. I mean, we weren't self-righteous or prudes, and I know some of my friends did plenty of stuff (one of my softball friends, who was, like, the last person I would've expected it from, taught me the meaning of the word "kegstand"), and - believe me - we got into plenty of adolescent hijinks, but when it came to stuff that could be smoked/ingested/inhaled, we were sort of like, "nah, we're fine over here. That's what college is for."

I also was reminded of how one of my therapy kids came in a couple of weeks ago and said that her friends, to show their support in a difficult time, came over with "cookies and monsters." I, of course, being the ever suspecting doc that I am, was like, that has to be a drug reference, right? But I'll be damned if I knew to what. So I said, I don't know what that means, and she tells me, "Monsters, you know, they're these energy drinks." Oh!, I said. Monsters. Duh. Got it. And then she looks and me and says, "And cookies. You know, they're like....cookies."

Believe me, hon. I know cookies.

So then I go back to my office, and am talking to Peng, and I get this page, "The police are here and need to see you ASAP." I was like, what?? Peng says, it has to have something to do with your patient (there's history to that comment, just trust me). And I go up, and of course, that's why they're there. I talk to the officer, my patient and I have our session, she's safe, it's fine, I send her home. You know, via the police, because, well, it's not like she can walk. And I go into my next session, and get paged out because the officer that brought her is all, you let her go? Are you kidding? I say, no, it's fine, we did our thing, she's okay. She didn't give me any reason to petition her. And the officer says, "her phone call to me this morning is enough for an emergency commitment" (which is wrong, by the way. It's enough for an emergency petition and custody order). I shrugged and was like, sure, it's enough to petition her and bring her in for evaluation (because that's what a petition means. It's not a commitment all by itself. Anybody can take out a petition, but to get the commitment you need a Qualified Professional's Exam, which - guess what, lady? That's me). I evaluated her and let her go. Cop lady, although very nice, was clearly not pleased. The hospital police, who know me (and the patient), were like, are you sure? Well, okay, Dr. Kate! But then, to her defense, they (and I) see a lot more of this every day. There's a reason all the hospital cops know me, and it has nothing to do with my killer smile.

Look, folks, we deal with this every day. Involuntary commitment doesn't really prevent people who really want to hurt themselves from doing so, anyway, it just delays them. And with the type of therapy she and I are doing, and her personality disorder and current situation, this was what I was supposed to do. I understand, totally, where she's coming from. I happily gave her my name for her report. But, you can't keep all the crazy people locked up all the time. There wouldn't be anyone left on the outside...

So I went back into session with my next patient. Meanwhile, Peng, who noticed I'd been gone longer than the standard amount of time for a therapy session, went out to the front desk to find out if they really had come with my patient or if they'd come to take me away.

(I suspect that the men who do someday come to take me away will probably be bringing me a pretty white long-sleeved jacket...)

The rest of the day was largely uneventful, fortunately. We had a very sad but interesting M&M (morbidity and mortality conference, not the candy. It's a protected forum - i.e., nothing we say in there is legally admissible in court - in which we can discuss things that go wrong and how to keep them from going wrong again) which more or less involves a fubar on the part of another hospital service, and ultimately comes down to the "scary psych patient" syndrome. Which, unfortunately (although, thankfully not in this instance), can in fact be fatal.

I found out shortly after M&M that my coworker Eva is pregnant, with twins. She's seven weeks and they already have faces (that is one wicked ultrasound machine. I wish anything I'd ever worked with had that kind of resolution. But I digress). And, actually, tails (you had one too at that age). I'm excited for her.

My afternoon, fortunately, came and went. I have this one patient who's been in the clinic as long as I've been alive, and unfortunately it's now fallen to me to crowbar him out of the clinic, since I'm not going to be following him next year. I came up with a good plan for this, and he took it much better than I expected. He actually seemed to agree with the reasons I provided him with why he should be seen in a private clinic. I was pleased. One of my kids no-showed, the other was doing awesomely. And she was even early, so we ended a little early, and I got to leave with Peng.

All in all, not a bad day. But still leaves me shaking my head a little and thinking, my life is weird. Nobody else's job goes quite like this....

Thursday, June 04, 2009

Love my mom Thursday.

It's my mom's birthday. Happy birthday, Mom! It's amazing how I keep getting older and she doesn't...

I know I promised you a rant tonight, but I was on Day Float today and it was INSANE. We saw like a bajillion people and still had to hand stuff off. And y'all, I'm ti-red. So, rant delayed.

But did I mention it's my mom's birthday? Happy birthday, Mom!

Tuesday, June 02, 2009

Coming soon to a blog near me...

So, I initially was going to post a link to a very funny site that I stumbled across tonight in my oh-geez-I-can't-move, post-Gomer, laying-like-a-big-lump-ness (work was long and crazy. Oh, so, so crazy. Gomer, whom I haven't seen in two weeks because he was off at the beach and then I was moving, apparently felt the need to make up for lost time. And the gym was like SEVEN THOUSAND DAMN DEGREES. I had so few electrolytes at the end of our workout that I could barely put three words together. I stopped and got Schlotsky's for dinner purely out of lust for the roughly swimming-pool-sized unsweet tea that comes with their - also tasty - vegetarian sandwich, and cranked the AC in the car. Then I came home, delighted in the fact that my dining room table is still clear enough for me to eat dinner there, showered, and commenced with the lump-like laying. It was needed. Of course, the caffeine from the unsweet tea kiddie pool was not, and now it's 10:30...but, I digress. Longly).

And then, I started thinking about the conversation I had with my shrink last night, which entailed things like, "So, I've decided to make Gomer stop weighing me during our assessments (one of which is due soon. I'm hoping he forgets). Because the number is kind of irrelevant at this point. I think the measurements and body fat analysis are more meaningful, but as my body composition changes, that actual number doesn't mean shit. Like, I calculated my lean body mass the other day, which turned out to be X. And then I back calculated what my goal weight would be if my lean body mass stayed exactly the same - which it's so not gonna, if I keep this up - and I were 25% body fat, which is reasonable, and it was Y." She says, "Okay. And?" I blinked at her and said, "Well...I dunno, people who weigh that much can't possibly be healthy, right? I mean, what doctor's going to be like, your BMI (speaking of totally meaningless measurements) is like seven billion, but good work, you're not unacceptably fat anymore?"

Yes, I know. I did go to medical school, remember? I didn't even wait for her to give me the "you know you're being irrational, right?" look to point out that I was being ridiculous.

So I'm thinking about this tonight, and was trying to remember the formulas for basal metabolic rate and caloric need and blah blah blah, thinking about getting more strictly back on the meal plan my wonderful dietitian from a few years ago devised (she's in Florida. And not answering email), and feeling like that might not actually cover my BMR, which, is sort of the anti-answer. So I Google, and follow some links, and then I end up with three new blogs I totally love and a rant about why being fat is the last acceptable bias and this crazy, evil, awful woman who's crusading against fat people. Because we're just that gross, or something, I don't know why she feels the need to do anything besides shut the fuck up (because, really? REALLY what she should do).

But, now it's 10:40, and I do have to go to work tomorrow, and I decided I'm going to table that blog post for Love Thursday. But to give you a hint at the coming attractions, watch this:

(I so love her)

(Also...shit. I guess this means I need to actually write something useful on Thursday...)

Monday, June 01, 2009


So I'm at work.

After weeks and weeks and weeks of filled-to-the-rafters clinic days, I'm finally having a light day at work. I saw two patients this morning, the other two cancelled. I wrote some overdue clinic notes, and did all my little "learning modules" for next year that were due like two weeks ago. I read CNN.com. I walked to the cafeteria with Sparrow. I've been harassing Tyler over text message. I talked to my folks, who are on the road in West Virginia, currently. I've been emailing with Peng (who's at her AHEC), and just text-paged Ruthie to let her know that Dr. Jabba (who is one of my favorite attendings and mentors and who is currently on-service on the Crisis unit, where Ruthie is doing coverage this week) dropped by our office looking for her, and referred to her as "his minion." This made me giggle.

Currently my 1:00 patient, whom I talked to last week and assured me he was coming, is a half hour late (I just checked my voicemail. He cancelled like an hour ago. Just glad he didn't kill himself. That's a weird occupational hazard, to think like that...). I don't expect my 2:00 to come, my 3:00 cancelled, and my 4:00 is new to me, but was apparently fired by her old provider for missing appointments. So here's hoping. I mean, um, so we'll see if she comes. I still have a big bunch of paperwork to do, but I decided to take a break and play on the internet.

I've been trying to catch up on some of my blog reading, about which I've been very bad lately. I cracked up at Barb's post about Alternate Rating Systems. And I've been reading up on Megan's blog, on which I was really far behind. She's stuck in the hospital after a cornual ectopic pregnancy on Clomid. Which sucks.

She also, though, has been doing this x365 thing, which I find very, very cool. And as I said in her comments, if it wasn't hard enough for me to come up with one blog post a day as it is, I'd probably co-opt it myself. But I clicked on the link to the friend she referenced, and then tried to click on the "x365.org" link, and I got the big "BLOCKED SITE" error with this message:

Please discuss any blocked sites in the Global category with your Vice President or Department Chair.

Uh, yeah. I'll get right on that (although, now that I'm vice president of the Housestaff Council, I'm wondering if I can start a campaign to unblock Facebook at work). But I wondered - why the vice president, not the president?

And furthermore, apparently it blocks x365.org and Facebook, but not things like PostSecret or Dickipedia (which, is a website referencing people who are jerks, not actual penises. But it sounds a little like a porn site, doesn't it?). Because that makes sense.

Alright. More note writing. Because it's going to be a long-ass day, even if I am doing nothing, currently (left home at 7. Work. Gym. Store. Shrink at 7:15. Drive back home. Shower. Bed. Repeat). Although my commute this morning? From 25 miles away? Took me less time than my drive to Starbucks and then to work program I'd been on when I lived a mile from the hospital. I love it).