Pontificum Scriblerus

So, we did go to Paris. And it was not good. I was irritable and couldn't sleep much, and was somehow scared and made uncomfortable by all the people and grandeur of Paris, to the point where its charm was lost on me completely. I felt at the same time fat, unfashionable, tired, cold and sweaty. I even remember saying, "Why is this the most romantic city in the world again?" Hubby's parents came up to join us. They planned to hang out with us for a few days, but couldn't stay too long, because his grandfather was still in the hospital or in a rehab, status post total hip replacement after his fall and fracture. Unfortunately, on the second night, during a really nice dinner at some place that had no signs in English, and no staff that spoke it (a good prognostic indicator), my mother in law got a phone call. She said into the phone, "He died?" Just like that, out of nowhere... She seemed emotionless at the time. What do you really say to a pers...

2006 was a rough year in a way. In lots of ways. In March and April of that year, I was the second year resident in the MICU, complete with overnight calls, followed by the very dreaded EP/CHF service, which, although didn't have overnight call, was even worse, what with the incredibly long hours, endless rounds, and patients who were so sick, and whose organ systems were so at war with each other, no one knew exactly what to do with them (help one organ, kill the other, type of dilemma) while they waited for a heart transplant. Around the second week of my MICU rotation, my grandmother got sick. I was on the T around 2 pm on my way home after a sleepless night, dreaming about a hot shower, a soapy scrub, and then crawling inbetween crisp sheets, and passing out until dinner time. My grandmother called me onthe cell phone, and said she had a stomach ache. I was so fatigued, I felt nervous I would have to turn around and go back to her house, but she said she didn't want th...

When you're learning to do something, especially when it's a complicated something, and after the first few (or few hundred) times you try it, you don't succeed, you think it's you. And you're probably right. It takes a while before, when you fail, and fail you will, you can confidently say: it's not me, it's them. Learning to do colonoscopies is no easy feat, at least for me, as my questionable hand-eye coordination and small hands don't lend themselves to be the best tools for the task. Could be a woman thing (I can say that, but no one else can, or should, although, they sure have); could be because the boys spend hours playing video games and honing their coordination... Either way. It is not easy. In addition to not being naturally disposed towards this procedure, it's challenging to say the least to work with a different teacher every week and receive different and sometimes, polar opposite instruction. Like, "What the hell are you d...

I had a job interview last week. By the way, I would just like to note, as I already have to my friends and family, how it's absolutely amazing that I have made it to age 32 and I don't know how to look for a job. I find the whole process highly uncomfortable and nerve racking, and not just because it's tough to find a good gig these days. But also: it's like dating! Someone is always trying to impress someone else, and someone also ends up rejecting someone else. I'm bad at rejecting in either direction, so it's torturous. Job interviews these days take all day because I have to meet all the CEOs, COOs, and CFOs etcetera, etcetera... I had a day last week when I coulnd't pump all day, and it was an absolute torment to my body, plus, just that one day is all it took for my body to say, "Oh, you don't need milk anymore? Great." and stop producing. I then swore to myself that I would pump religiously to try to get production back up to par....

Of all the odd things to happen to me... I was on call this weekend. Fortunately, proximity to work allowed me to go home and nurse El Baby, which I love love love... I actually really kind of hated breastfeeding at first. There's the whole milk cow thing; there were the sore nips; the time commitment; and most of all, the constant fighting with the baby to make him eat made me very frustrated. Sometimes, I felt like I was forcefeeding him the breast. And I even went to see a lactation consultant, which was a hilarious experience in and of itself. But more on that later. So, I nursed Munchkin, fed myself, and was driving back to work; it was around 2 pm. I was just passing by the daycare. It's a building on the corner of busy street 1 and busy street 2. In front, there is a small lawn. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something light colored piled high on the lawn. I did a double take. I thought it would be garbage. But it wasn't: it was a person! A girl was ...

We had sushi for dinner tonight in this little place on the corner right next to our hotel. It was fun: I drank some kind of muddled blackberry vodka drink, and ate some rather tasty raw fish. El Baby was being nice tonight, and was, for some reason, extra flirtatious, happy and dancy, leading us to make friends with all the waitstaff and hosts, because who can resist a baby dancing in place with a toothless smile and a tiny tongue sticking out? You almost couldn't tell it was Texas at all; there was even loungy trance music in the background... It made me think about about 10 years ago, on my infamous (well, at least as far as the characters in my head are concerned, it was infamous. In fact, when I say, "that time in Spain when..." the characters in my head close their eyes, and nod understandingly: mmmyea yea. Yup.) and life changing trip in Spain. It was a summer study abroad program through the international study institute that apparently, had some sort of tie...

I am so tired that I can probably barely tie 2 words together, and typing them thereafter would be an even more serious issue. I had my brain flooded today by GI radiology, pathology and pharmacology in a room tightly packed with sardines in oil... no, aging gastroenterologists. Which, by the way, is always fun. The first aging gastroenterologist I sat next to, was really quite aged already, but super-friendly and even a bit flirtatious, and I rather enjoyed exchanging quips with him, feeling myself almost on par with this man of decades of experience. I exsanguinated milk due to being unprepared, pump-wise, and had to let some down in none other but a bathroom stall at the convention center - what a waste of breast gold... Then, in the afternoon, I dealt with a baby who was decidedly being weird , organizing a serious crankfest, and a husband who, apparently, considers Texas a foreign country, and as such, was really rather lost as far as figuring out what to do for dinner in this ...