I call him Vinnie

Ho ho ho

I'm in Chicago!!

Left my house at 4-freakin-am, with the anticipation that I'd have to sit in the terminal and wait a bunch of hours, but as it turns out my 6am flight left right on time. And despite losing my favorite necklace somewhere in the transition (I'm crushed. Seriously. I was wearing it precisely so I *wouldn't* lose it), the trip was largely uneventful.

Except....well, for this:

I was sitting behind them on the plane, too. They were very nice people, as one might imagine. And they pleasantly tolerated all the comments about, "Hey, is the sleigh in the shop?" I asked if there was an outbreak of Reindeer Flu.

But the best response to this, by far, was this, which my friend penned on my FB page:

Twas the night before Christmas and in RDU,
St. Nick waited patiently to check luggage through.
The desk agent saw him and shouted with glee
"I trust that you're Santa but I still need ID"
"And just in case the sign wasn't clear,
Your pets must be crated unless they're service reindeer"
The TSA agent took one look at his sack,
And said "sorry you'll have to leave some stuff back"
"The cookies are fine, but the milk's got to go,
You have way more than three ounces you know"
"We will happily let through Dasher and Dancer,
But this one's red nose has set off our sensors!"
Santa said "Rudolph's fine, see he's on my nice list!
I always background check for terrorists!"
So with out any milk and a reindeer detained,
Santa begrudgingly boarded the plane.
And he exclaimed as the Boeing took off and was gone,
"Next year I'm staying home and using Amazon!"

Merry Christmas, y'all. May it be a blessed and magical one.

Never a dull day...

So, this morning, I'm in the resident workroom, and Scott (who's night float this week) points out this chief complaint of a patient in the ER that neither of us can quite decipher. It says, "AMS: MSC OD." Okay...altered mental status. An overdose on something. We throw out a couple of guesses, and we finally give in and look at the chart. The triage note reads something like this:

"19 year old female found by EMS on [major street near the hospital]. Initially reported to be unconscious, but was alert by the time EMS arrived. Patient was found outside Marble Slab Creamery. She states that she works there, and broke in to the store around 2am. Patient was found covered in chocolate ice cream..." Later in the notes, it says, "in ER, patient noted to have chocolate all over face and bilateral hands."

I love my job.

Whipped

Seriously. What the hell?

So, I think I mentioned the other day that while I was home, my Greek aunts convinced me I needed to put a profile on this Greek dating site, right?

I don't think I'm cut out for this shit.

So, I admit, it's only been a week, but I've had two separate guys IM me and ask me to dominate them. I cannot figure this out.

The first one was, I'm guessing, classic reaction formation. His tagline was like, "If you voted for Obama, we're not compatible." On his profile, he was all bluster and rant about how Greeks were the best, Orthodoxy was the only religion, women were all "hippie sandal-wearing liberals." I didn't see his profile until after he'd messaged me asking me if I was "dominant." I was like, really dude? He sends me his phone number and was like, call me. No really, call me. I said, no. He's like, really, really. I want you to call. And I asked him, what makes you think I'm a dom? He says, "I can just tell."

Okayyyy.....that was the end of that.

The second guy started with "are you a psychiatrist?" and then proceeded to tell me he was recently suicidal. And couldn't afford a therapist, so maybe I could help? Mmm, no, sorry. Well, okay, that's cool. Blah blah blah (I don't know why I didn't just end the conversation right exactly then), and then he starts telling me it's love at first sight. I said, no, no it's not. We've been talking for three minutes. And he says he's looking to get married. And I was like, dude, calm down, you seem like a nice enough guy but you come on way too strong. He says, why? I really like you. I said, no you don't, you don't even know me.

And then he says...."I'm looking for a dominatrix. Can I serve you?"

I said, "No."

He says, "No, I mean after we're married."

...?

I was like, are you kidding?! No, no he was not.

And I finally was like, okay, dude, what in the world would make you think that? He says, your picture.

The picture I have posted? Is the same one I used for my residency interviews. No, it does not scream "dominatrix!"

So I told him I had to go, and wished him well, and closed the messenger. And he kept trying to initiate a chat, and I kept saying no. And he finally went away.

Seriously, y'all. Is this what's out there?

So many of my friends have met their spouses on online dating sites. I? Have met more losers with dead end jobs and fat girl fetishes than I care to count. The Greek site, Match.com...I met one guy who I was friendly with for a while, but he lived on the other coast, and turned out to have some issues that were just incompatible with mine. And when I was in NH? I was on both Match and eHarmony, because if nothing else, I was hoping to meet some people in the area, do some social branching out, etc. That was terrifying. There was a cafeteria worker in a sweater vest pestering me from VT for a while.

Maybe I should've become a nun...

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..."

Nosh safely

There's a patient in the ER with a chief complaint listed as "snack bite."

Looking at the actual note, it's possible this could be a typo, as the story involves a snake, not a hamster covered in steak sauce or perhaps a rogue potato chip.

Still. Be careful out there tonight, people.

Epic-demic

So I'm on call (shocker). And Tyler and I are cruising the ER whiteboard program for crazies, and cracking wise about some of the stupid reasons people come in to the ED. When he suggests the newest impending pandemic -

Manbearpig flu.


I laughed so hard I almost passed out.

(And then I would've had to go to the ER. Can you imagine what that chief complaint would've looked like...do you think they would have taken me cereal?)

Seriously. It's never boring in psychiatry.

Had a long day. Arduous. Bleh. But then...my last patient of the day comes in, right? And she's blind. Cool. Had her guide dog with her. Sweet, sweet big 90-lb-ish German Shepherd whom we'll call Misty. So I get in the room, and the patient says, do you mind if I let her out of her harness while she's "off duty"? I said, of course not. So we talk, and Misty sniffs, is appropriately respectful when things get heavy, and then gets sort of playful towards the end. And my attending and I are getting ready to walk out the door, and....I see that look on her face.

I know this look.

I say, "Misty...where do you think you're going?"

But by then? Misty? Down the hall. Freeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

A very comical chase ensues. Fortunately, we were running late, so most of the clinic had cleared out. And she just galloped and pranced and ran down the hallways, this way and that, with me trailing behind her and several other docs trying to head her off in various directions. I got a hold of her like four times, but she's solid, and powerful, and has four-wheel-drive, and so she just mowed me over. Finally, one of my fellow dog people caught her and I got a hold of her collar. We took her back to the room and let me tell you, the moment that harness went on, she was allll business.

I don't really think it's a lapse in training. I think she knew she was with kind souls who would permit her a bit of fun and enjoy it as much as she did.

It kind a looked like this...(Sorry I couldn't find the classic Benny Hill on YouTube...this isn't a bad recreation, though. Just imagine it in a psych clinic instead of a high school...)

Hungry

So here's my call story for the evening...it's been a rough day, actually; we've been crazy busy and I got a whole pile of bullshit consults, including one on OB to evaluate a woman for postpartum psychosis, which it turned out she did not have an in fact her only problem was that she was KOREAN and thus spoke KOREAN. Not English. So, you know, they didn't explain anything to her and then decided she was freaking out and psychotic when she was running around with blood on her arm (she pulled out her IV) babbling in...wait for it...Korean. I also had a patient try to leave the hospital (he almost made it) when I came by to tell him that I was trying NOT to commit him.

But anyway.

So, Guido, my intern, and I decide we're hungry and we're going to order dinner. And there's this great service around here that, you order online from one of like twenty restaurants in the area, and they pick it up and bring it to you. For a fee, of course, but you can pay with your hospital meal credit that we get for taking call and let me tell you, it rocks. Okay. So Guido and I order around 7. Usually it takes around an hour, so when dinner wasn't here by 8:30 I called them. And the kid that answered was like, wow, yeah, sorry, we're really backed up tonight, some stuff happened, lemme call the driver, blah, blah, blah. So she shows up about half an hour later, looking frazzled, and we tip her in quarters (neither of us had real cash, but, college kids like quarters, right?) and get our dinner and we are happy campers. Well, at least we've stopped being hungry.

But shortly after that, I get called to evaluate this college kid in the ER, right, who's complaining of "confusion" (as I was telling the kids story to my attending, he stops me and says, "Wait. She's a pothead, right? She sounds like a pothead." That...well, really says it all). And it turns out that what prompted this kid to come in was, she went to work tonight - guess where - and "kind of forgot I was supposed to be at work." Which ultimately translated into this: she went to pick up an order, then promptly went home and ate it. Her boyfriend walks into the kitchen and is like, wait, why are you home, and what are you eating?

Fortunately, it turns out that it wasn't, in fact, our dinner that she was eating.

Sweet kid. Really delightful family. Needs to cut back on the weed.....

Gratuitous Tuesday cuteness

My mom sent me this today. It's a sweet story, with a good little moral.

(The embedding didn't work, so, click here.)

Aww.

See, 'cause, here in the real world, one of Ruthie's patients tried to cut out his own gallbladder today. Why not? Poor Peng had to deal with it, unfortunately.

And actually, now that I think about it...that's the second patient of Ruthie's that's tried to remove an organ on their own...

Our life is weird.

No fries, chips...

Claudia sent this to me. Dared me to knit it.

I pointed out that, duh, that's crochet. We knitters wouldn't bother with such weirdness...

....would we?


(Yeah, that's a knitted model of the GI tract. I dunno, y'all...)

Oh - and!

Somehow in listing last night's weirdness, I forgot to mention the bulimic who called the crisis line and said he was going to eat himself to death.

No, really. I actually spent a good deal of time considering petitioning him...until he threatened me with Whoppers.

It was a weird day.

Fortunately, Peng showed up for night float and rescued me. I finished my last note, she ordered me to eat dinner (at 11:30, because, whoops, I forgot. Fortunately, girl's got my back). I got to sleep around 1, finally, and got a bit of sleep. I spent most of today running errands - I haven't managed to get the chapter read that I need to present at class tomorrow night, yet, but I did get to Starbucks, then the Lowes Hardware, then the gym, my shrink, the Whole Foods, the PetSmart (my groceries, then Maggie's, as it were), and even hit the Panera for lunch. AND I fixed the flapper on my toilet, so now it's not running through the entire water supply of North Carolina (it's so quiet in here....). And even did some dishes, and made some dinner, and screwed around on Facebook for a while. And still haven't read that chapter I'm supposed to present...but, I think I'm going to bed....

3 reasons my life is weird

Three illustrative examples of what my call day has been like. And, remember, I volunteered to stay overnight tonight, smart girl that I am (I actually don't mind, Cleo sounds really sick)....

1. I had to Google "Kazakhstan" for a note. Because I had a kid from there, and I can't spell it without help. She was great - her parents were concerned for a number of valid reasons, but one of their primary worries was how she always said "I don't care" about everything (she's 14. Duh, she "doesn't care"). Her parents get out of the room, one of the first things she says is, "Okay, I actually do care."

2. I just saw a guy in the ER who came into via police in 4-point hard leather restraints. When I went down to see him, he was down to one point. While he was talking to me, he took the zipper pull off his jeans and proceeded to pick the lock on the last cuff, take it off, and sprawl out on the couch (the inflatable rubber couch in the psych room).

3. I cancelled all my patients for clinic tomorrow, right? So I have a lot of them calling me back leaving messages. I get this one message: "Hi, Doc, I'm feeling better, but I need you to call in a prescription for me, I'm going to run out of my meds tomorrow" etc, etc. Went on for two and a half minutes, never actually identified herself.

Funny business

It's been a weird day here in sunny NC.

Started out well. I slept in, and Maggie was super excited that I was still home and asleep and not dragging myself out of bed to go away for many, many hours. So we had a little lazy morning, and then I got up and went to Starbucks, and the gym, and the grocery.

While I was out, I'm driving next to this car painted all camouflage, right? Which is a little strange in itself, but then, I look across the road, and there's this guy. On a bike. And behind his bike, he's pulling what appears to be a 12 foot canoe. Okay, and in this canoe, right, are two maybe 20 lb terriers. Who, frankly, didn't look too thrilled...

I would've given a considerable amount to have had my camera right then. I almost ran into the camouflage car (who could've blamed me? "Honest, officer, I didn't see it!").

So I made it back home, showered, putzed, and Mags and I went to the Starbucks I go into (as opposed to the other one, which has a drive through. I like the convenience of that one, but this one has better people working there, so, when I go in...). I read a little, she sniffed a lot, and I got a text from a friend of mine giving me some really disconcerting news. She's fine, but, we almost lost her. That really shook me up. I talked to her tonight, she's better, and I feel better about her situation, but, wow.

So needless to say, Mags and I didn't stay at the Starbucks much after that. We watched some TV...


...and I futzed around on the intenet a little. Found a really cool blog at Vegan Lunch Box which has some nice recipes, but also links to a lot of very neat products. Worth checking out. Not that I'll ever read it again, because I'm so far behind on my blog reading, but...

And here's one more thing for your viewing enjoyment. I do love me an SNL digital short, and think I may be developing a little crush on Andy Samberg, frankly...

Great moments in emergency psychiatry

A few of the more choice things we've heard from the ER psych contingent tonight...

Overheard:
Patient: You're a bitch. I don't want to be here.
RN: Well, sir, you should've thought about that before you started walking around naked in your yard.

A seven year old's mother told one of my colleagues the following:

Mom: I said to my son, that's it! You're too disrespectful! I'm sending you to boarding school. And he says, well, if you do that, I'll kill myself. And so I says, well, I'm going to do it, are you going to kill yourself? And he says, if you do it, I'll kill myself. We went like that for about an hour, and then he had a violent outburst.
Colleague: Which means, what, "a violent outburst"?
Mom: Well, when I tried to slap him in the face, 'cause he was being disrespectful, he grabbed my hands and pushed me back. Like he always does.
Colleague: Okay. Have you considered how this might change if you didn't slap him?
Mom: What? But I needed to slap him, he was being disrespectful!

I had a patient tell me tonight, when I asked if he'd ever had a head injury, "Well, I got hit in the head with some pretty severe rocks as a kid."

A different patient told me, "I done some real illiterate things in my life, but I've never tried to kill myself."

I later got consulted for a patient whom the ER told me had said he wanted to kill himself. Yesterday he had a pretty bad fall and broke several ribs. What he said was, "if this don't stop hurting, I'd rather be dead." I give you a direct excerpt from the consult note I wrote:

When questioned about his statement, the patient vehemently denies suicidal ideation. He says, "I don't want to kill myself. I have too much to live for. I should've been dead several times - I had this accident, and a couple of months ago I got bitten by a poisonous snake." When asked how he felt that he had come "close to death" more than once in the past several months, he replied, "I feel fortunate to be alive. I pray every day and thank God that he let me make it another day, but then, we all have our moments of weakness with our words, don't we?" He states that he definitely feels that he can keep himself safe.

Oh, yeah. Let's make sure the psychiatrists see that one....because the mere mortal ER docs couldn't possibly asses that guy's safety. I mean, come on, if he's going to be all vague and dodgy about it...!!

And the night's barely half over....I'm guessing there's more to come before daylight....

More randomness

Because it's 2am, and I just got this call from the floor...

RN: Ms. Doe needs something to sleep.

Me: Okay, has she taken anything before?

RN: Trazodone. She says it makes her mouth dry. (Patient mumbling in the background) She says she'll wake up and drink water.

Me: Oh...so...is the Trazodone okay, then?

RN: (Confers with patient) She says it makes her mouth dry and she has to wake up and drink water.

Me: Has she ever taken Vistaril?

RN: She's already taken 50 mg of it tonight. Maybe we could give her some Bendaryl? She says she takes Benadryl at home.

Me: No, Vistaril and Benadryl are pretty much the same thing. Has she ever taken Ambien?

RN: (Confers with patient) No. Oh. But, I'm looking at the order, and I can repeat the Vistaril. So I guess I didn't need to call you. Oh, but she wants to use her Artificial Tears. Can you put in an order for that?

At 2am. Artificial tears. Really? Fine, fine, fine....

So I go into the physician order entry software to do that, and search for "artificial tears." And I find this. Look at the first item in the search results on the right:


An artificial nose? .....what? What the hell is that?? I thought we'd pretty much gotten rid of leprosy. Is this what that guy from The Humpty Dance pulled off? And why do you need a new one daily? I, truly, have no earthly idea what this is about. But I have some pretty funny mental images...

::EDIT:: Oh, no wait, it gets better. So I Googled "artificial nose", and I found this article, about the benefits of synthetic snot. I love it.

Call Girl

(Notice that I don't yet make anywhere near enough to refer to myself as a high-priced call girl...)

So I'm on call. Again. So far it's been busy, and Mikaela and I were hopping. But Cleo just came on - she's night float - and she's all fresh and perky and pleasant, and well, hell - I'm still pretty travel weary. She can handle things for a while whilst I nap...

Apparently, though, I've got quite the mojo working for me today. My lone afternoon clinic patient (I got SLAMMED this morning in intake clinic, but only one of my psychotic folks decided to show up this afternoon) told me I was pretty and asked if I was married. Well, no, he asked, "You're married, right?" I gave a non-committal "uhh", which, you know, he could interpret as he wished. He then asked me what my husband's name was.

I told him "Mister."

This evening, I got called to evaluate this 89 year old woman, whom I talked to for some time, and then as I was getting ready to leave, she remarked, "Wow, you've got really great boobs." I promptly then ordered a CT of her head (the two weren't related).

I also admitted a kid, who - 5 years old - intentionally broke her baby brother's arm. I went up to do the physical, she looks like just the sweetest little cherub. Later tonight I got called for an order to lock her bathroom door because she kept sticking her head in the toilet.

It's weird out there, y'all....

(PS - only 16 second year calls left to go...)

Two ex-wives away from being a country song.

Seriously. Here's my day...

10:30am - wake up, for real, after waking up every 90 minutes to cough self into a fit of gagging, hacking, kak-kak-kak-ness, and probably a few times in between.

10:31 - wonder what the heck was wrong with my head last night, because entire night was categorized by epic, disorganized, really bizarre dreams. When I woke up, I'd been dreaming about (I'm so not kidding) flesh-eating bacteria that wrote boy-band lyrics through these kids in a cult that burned down my church (the cult, not the kids specifically). The kids were coming to my clinic, which seemed to be some sort of OB-Psych-ER hybrid, and one of them was living with me. Possibly in the hospital. Along with four dogs from the cult. I could not make this up if I tried.

10:33 - wonder what Freud would say.

10:35 - shower. Sometimes known as steam cleaning. This allows for penetration of the thick layer of concrete-like goo firmly sealing my eyelids shut and a small amount of air to pass through my sinuses for maybe 45 seconds, until they clog up again.

11:00 - execute decision that, while I can still see and possible even breathe a little, I'm going to go to Starbucks and the grocery. And then play it from there...

11:02 - turn key in ignition. Car makes odd clicking sound that is remarkably similar to above-mentioned kak-kak-kak-ing.

11:03 - wonder if I should call Sparrow for a jump. Notice that Juan's truck is parked in the driveway; wonder how to say "jump start" in Spanish.

11:23 - note that when I let the key rest, the radio, blowers, and interior lights come on. Note the presence of 3/4 tank of gas. Decide it can't possibly be the battery.

11:24 - call my dad (because, really, what do you do in these situations, except call your dad who is 850 miles away and say, "No, here, listen to this," and hold up the phone while you try to turn the engine over). Dad says it's probably the battery. Make him listen to the engine again and tell him it isn't the battery, because the lights work (will later tell him that dying batteries make a progressively slowing "ruh-ruh-ruh" sound, not a "click-click-click" sound). Become frustrated that my father - who's an engineer, not a mechanic - can't diagnose and/or fix the problem over the phone, from 850 miles away.

11:27 - Call AAA.

11:28 - sit down on the ladder that we've lain behind the gate of the fence because Little Maxine was trying to dig out there. Pet Maggie, who's outside all like, "what's wrong with the big noisy silver thing?"

11:34 - finally get through to AAA. Because circumvented the "if you aren't in the state of Illinois, press 2", and called the Illinois operator. She is very helpful. She transfers me to the NC operator, who, not so much helpful. She asks what service I need, and I say, probably a tow, because the woman in IL said I'm probably going to need a tow. She yells at me when I don't know where I want it towed (how is "wherever's closest" not an answer?). Does not understand how the name of the cross street is "like the holiday" (i.e., "it's the corner of Main and Christmas." "Christmas with a K or a C?" "C. You know, like the holiday." "What??" "The holiday. In December." "Ma'am, is that with a K or a C?"). Cannot comprehend how I don't yet want to commit to wanting a rental car until I find out what's wrong with mine. Get very annoyed, which is not helped by

11:34:30 - Maggie decides to make a break for it (chase me! It'll be fun! You'll feel better! Wheee! It's an adventure!!).

11:46 - devil dogs across the street scare Maggie. She darts back to hide behind me. I smack her on the tucas (so very hard I'm not sure she knew it was a smack) and stick her back in the house.

11:48 - start making eggs, because, obviously not going to get breakfast at Starbucks. Call parents to whine report in.

12:03 pm - yell at poor unsuspecting mother when she suggests I call someone local for advice on where to tow my car. Because I can't yell at the AAA lady, she's not required to love me. And I'm sick, and stuck, and my dog ran away, and my car died, and I forgot to put cheese on my eggs. And I woke up dreaming about pop-song-composing flesh-eating bacteria.

12:06 - tow guy comes. Tells me he can't service my car through AAA because my tags are expired.

12:07 - remind myself not to cry in front of the tow guy.

12:07:15 - tow guy says, "Well, let me see what's wrong with it first..."

12:07:45 - tow guy turns key in ignition. Car goes, "click click click".

12:09 - tow guy hooks this thing called a "power pak" up to my battery.

12:09:10 - car starts right up.

12:09:11 - resist urge to hug the tow guy.

12:10 - tow guy suggests it's time for a new battery. Ask tow guy where good place is to get battery. Tow guy suggests his service station.

12:15 - lock house, lock dog in crate, head to Starbucks with stated intention of charging alternator.

12:22 - make jubilant phone call to parents. Give dad satisfaction of being right, over the phone, 850 miles away. Apologize to mom.

12:40 - tea. Scone. Better.

1:05 - pull in to tow guy's service station. Walk in and announce I need a battery. Get blank looks from guys behind the desk. Weird but seemingly nice black guy who always offers to help my inflate my tires despite me crouched in front of the tire with the air hose in one hand and a tire gauge in the other and obviously knowing how to inflate my own tires (turns out I go to tow guy's service station a lot) pulls out $7000 voltmeter (I told him they were like $12 at Radio Shack). Confirms that I need a new battery.

After that, my day got better. I sat in the service station for a while, wishing I'd brought my knitting, sending long rambling texts to Claudia and watching this thing on MTV about the top ten over-the-top Sweet 16 parties of the rich and overprivileged. Which I then spent a good deal of time discussing with the mechanics. Tow guy showed up with subs from Jersey Mike's (a local chain, which is allegedly very good) and offered me part of his sandwich. Twice (I love North Carolina...). They hooked me up with a shiny new battery and a new little bulb for my license plate light (which is what actually got me pulled over the other night, and needs to be fixed anyway before I can pass my state inspection). I then motored over to Whole Foods, where I spent a ridiculous amount of money on...well, what, I'm not certain. I got small little tokens of affection for Sparrow, JD, and Cleo for their help in not making me take yesterday's call (I also bought a little bundle of flowers for JD's wife, whose tolerance was key to this operation). I got wine and chocolate to take to my aunt and uncle's for Thanksgiving (I'm also charged with getting the crescent rolls that come in a tube). I got a lot of random other things, which, frankly...I'm no longer allowed to shop post-call (except I still do), and so now I'm not allowed to shop when I'm sick...maybe I should just never be allowed to shop again...

After that I ran some things over to my office, and then stopped by Sparrow's and had a very nice cup of tea. She also gave me some leftover rock star garlic chicken that Rene had left for me, because she also rocks (she called earlier and was like, hey, I'm stopping by with leftover chicken, because I know you don't want to cook...I, unfortunately, was in search of a battery...) Little Maxine was all snuggled up parrot-style on my shoulder, so Sparrow was like, do you want to take her home? I'm going to be out all evening, I can pick her up on the way home...so now there's a teeny-weeny Maxine-y (Maxinie?) sitting at my feet and whimpering to be played with. Maggie's tossing around her stuffed alligator in the living room.

Is it weird that I can identify dog toys by their squeak at this point?

I'm feeling a little better today. Don't seem to have a fever, or at least much of one. I'm still doubting my ability to get a good night's sleep tonight, but, we'll see. And then...it's funny, I've been all stressed out about next week, right, because my Monday and Tuesday clinics are just packed to the gill....except...um...then that's it. If I wasn't on call Wednesday night (and hadn't thus scheduled a patient for the afternoon), I'd pretty much have a five day weekend, because I don't typically see patients on Wednesdays, and our lectures are cancelled. Uh, I think I'll be fine.

Guess I'd better go throw an alligator, snuggle the little one, and think about dinner....

Things that make me love my job

We had the first half of our yearly inservice exam today, and then had lecture until 5:30. Today was long. I tried to take a nap in the pink chair in our office, but...it broke. We still haven't figured out how or why it broke, but, the event looked something like this:

Me: (settles into chair. Something seems off) Ruthie, I think there's something wrong with the chair.
Ruthie: Oh, no, it's fine. It's just because Dr. G sat in it (Dr. G had just left our office)
Me: No, something feels weird....
(about five minutes pass. Suddenly, I realize....my head...is...sinking.....)
Me: Uh, Ruthie? I think there really is something wrong with the chaaaaaaaaaair!

And over I went. I actually ended up under Peng's desk all tangled up in the chair with my legs up in the air. It was.....let's go with.....highly comical.

So then later, Ruthie offers to drive me home. Which, great, because I walked today. So she goes out of the parking garage, and turns right...my house is about a mile and a half to the left. But, okay, it's hard to make a left turn out of there. So then she keeps going, gets to the point where you can turn right and double back to my house...and turns left. I waited about a block, and then said, "Um.....Ruthie......? Where are you taking me??"

Her answer?

"This way."

And this would be why Ruthie and I are friends.

She ended up taking the most convoluted route possible to get me home. Which worked out okay, because we ended up having to stop for provisions finding this cute little restaurant that was a little odd, but very tasty, and had nice ambiance.

It's been a long, weird day.

But then I read this, and you know? It made me very glad I was not the White Plains, NY medical examiner. Or a park worker. Can you imagine? "Oh, look, a suitcase....."

Okay, also glad I'm not a drug mule. Out of all the involved parties, I think his day was worst.

Things good, bad, and random

Happy birthday to Allison, who also turns 30 today. In honor of same, I tried to steal pictures of her incredibly adorable tiny one off her blog, but alas, there seems to have been a computer glitch in my attempts to plagiarize. So you'll have to go visit her blog yourself. The picture of Joseph in the laundry basket alone is worth the browsing.

In less good news, my dear friend Annie's mom has been in a coma for a week now. Something happened during a routine surgery last week and she has an anoxic brain injury. She's doing better, is extubated and breathing on her own, but still hasn't awakened. Anne has asked that tonight, at 7pm eastern, everyone pray for her mom.

Other than that...I'm exhausted. Still. Partly from having my sleep schedule all screwed up, partly from TS Hannah. Hannah swept through here around 3:00 this morning and stayed a while. The big dead tree limb finally fell, and - thankfully - missed the house, the car, the cable and power lines, even missed my bicycle. We lost power at about 3:30. Don't ask why I was awake. It came back on around 5:30, right after I'd decided to save the 1/3rd of a pint of Ben and Jerry's in the freezer from melty extinction (hey, we lost the whole fridge AND freezer full of stuff in the big storm in July). Shortly after that I discovered that the roof had leaked all over the floor in the den. I blamed the dog at first for the big puddle, until I got dripped on.

And then the dog broke my nose.

I know, right?

I was getting back into bed and she was in my spot. And I probably leaned over to smooch her on the head or something (I've been known to do that), when she decided decided she needed to move. So she jumped up...and smacked her hard little skull right into my nasal bones. Heeee-yaww.

I also found my bottle of Effexor in her crate this morning. Fortunately, it doesn't look like she did anything other with it than chew off the lid. Maybe she's depressed?