Pontificum Scriblerus

We were in the OR today, waiting for a procedure to start. Things always take forever when the OR gets involved, so I was wandering the halls back and forth, watching the clock. I was walking past OR 1, when I saw that they were wheeling in one of those HARD hospital cribs, which meant that there was a child getting operated on in that room. I was lined up with the door just as it slid open to reveal the secret life of that OR, and somehow, I couldn't stop myself; I turned and got a glimpse of what was in there. I saw the back of a baby's head, a sliver of exposed back and a little fat arm. I almost fainted. It stabbed me in the heart. I felt immediately dizzy. I felt tears welling up traitorously in my eyes. MaryEllen, the fluoro tech we work with, was standing a little bit in front of me, and she saw me - and I must have had some expression on my face, because she called out to me, and asked if I was ok. Instead of getting the hell out of there before I got too much more up...

Call weekend down. I was almost, ALMOST out of the woodwork in terms of any big screw ups, and even foolishly thought to myself, maybe, there is something to be said for being a 3rd year fellow? Less second guessing, more trust and independence... But then, in the nick of time, in the wee hours of the morning, throw a militant ER attending and some in-hospital politics into a caldron, and you have me stewing in my own juices, spiced with some doubt and insecurity... Amazing how that happens, right? Here's to felines and canines again! My canine self is uselessly chasing her own tail around and around a puddle of spilled milk. I really wish I was the kind of person that could do what she thinks is best and move on, but I'm not. No matter how I twist. ... After getting the phone call, and realizing there was going to be an issue, naturally, I couldn't fall back asleep, so I just lay there and fretted. Strangely enough, the first thing I wanted to do, and did, was pick ...

I'm on call this weekend, for the first time since January, so, of course, once again, I'm having nightmares. This time, I dreamt that I was wearing a pager, but I kept missing the pages. I think the pager was on silent. Instead of changing it back to beep, I kept freaking out about missing pages. Calculating how long ago I was paged and whether I should still call back, and how long before I get fired. Also, I got into a fight with a nurse because I didn't want to place a PEG over the weekend. She called me heartless. Clearly, my brain's sulci are twisted the wrong way.

Why am I not even surprised that this happened to me on the streets of Boston? There I was, peacefully walking with my friend D, and her baby, down Beacon St... By the way, if someone tells you that it is possible for two women with strollers to walk side by side down a street around here, reject that person. We were only able to walk in tandem, and communicate via bullhorn and body language... ...walking down Beacon street on the way to my favorite park. There is this age old little shed-like shoe repair shop, which, I was fairly convinced, was a mummified version of itself when it opened in the late 1940s, until I saw it actually open that day. We were making our way past there, strollers and all, when this middle-aged to elderly Russian man approached us, went straight to me, and, showing me a slip of paper, started to hurriedly speak. I thought he was going to ask for directions, but he said, "Vat is dis? I have to pay или vat?" I'm a good samaritan, no problem...

There was an unmistakable scent in the air tonight as I walked home; it was the smell of firewood and chimney smoke, just a hint, floating through the nighttime sky and tickling my nostrils. Someone must have lit up their fireplace. Somehow, it reminded me of my childhood, although, I don't know why: I've never had a wood burning fireplace in my life... The air was a bit wet with impending rain, and the first layer of fallen leaves was starting to form under my feet. It's fall again. It's the time of orange, red, yellow, and of reaping what you sow. But some might say fall is sad, because it's the downward side of the proverbial cycle of life; things age and fall apart. Supposedly, it's high time for depressive episodes. So it happens, that apparently, my birthday is the national depression screening day? Isn't that interesting.

My return to work approaches. I've been watching the day get closer and closer with wobbly knees and moths in my stomach. (not butterflies, because those are harbingers of good things to come, and this will suck) Last night, Munchkin had kind of a rough night, for us, considering that generally, he's been nothing but a little pleasure. And every time I got up to help him, I kept obsessively reminding myself that in 2 days I'm going back to work. Amazingly, instead of thinking, Poor me, I kept repeating, My poor baby, my poor baby... After one of the times I got up, I had trouble falling back asleep. I tossed and turned and kicked the husband to punish him for his blissful snoring. When I finally passed out, I had the following dream. I'm at work. I have a presentation to do, but I didn't prepare it. In fact, I don't even have a topic. I am choosing one: Maybe, I can present the case of the 43 year old who demanded a colonoscopy without indication, and w...