what's that couch doing there?

The car next to me in the parking lot today had two little couches sitting in the back window, which, I can only assume, are there as part of the conversion from car to dollhouse on wheels. I especially loved the fabric selection: the "betty boop in a sailor outfit and holding an american flag" pattern was adorable but, as you can see, they also come in "terrier." But this is more than just a tiny piece of furniture. It conveniently masks the tacky packaging of a dumpy old kleenex box.

The Gauntlet

And by gauntlet- I could only be referring to the half block of state street, manned by the spartans of the "save the children" foundation, which I must inevitably pass through on my way home from the gym. Today, I managed to avoid the first three volunteers, who were all eyeing me, as they explained the intricacies of rate structures and payment plans to someone else... When one finally zeroed in on me- I got this dumb grin on my face- like "yeah you caught me..." and proceeded respond to "how are you doing today?" with "Sorry- I can't." So he says "doing pretty good then- fantastic."

Then I nearly got railroaded by a "red coat" trying to attack someone else and then almost get hit when and a guy and girl redcoat were playing cat and mouse all flirty-like. With those bullets dodged and still thinking I'm in the clear, I get a tap on the shoulder. "Excuse me" this random guy says, standing with a friend. "But what about the children?" This was not a redcoat- and I could not stop laughing- knowing they had watched my struggle. "Oh no, you too?" I said.

Was that a wrestling move or a way to deliver a baby?

I saw my first two cesarian sections last friday night, and it proved to be quite an experience. It began as many of the other surgeries have- using the same process to cut open the belly and control the bleeding. I almost got so lost in watching them open the abdomen, because it looked so familiar, that I was surprised to see a little ear sitting their in the middle of things. I particularly enjoyed watching the maneuver used to deliver the baby from the tiny hole they made in the uterus.

The resident flexed her elbow and slammed down on the patient's abdomen, not unlike a WWF move... which sent the baby launching out of the woman's womb. I was particularly pleased to be the one to break the amniotic sac on the 2nd C-section. Stranger still was the fact that the father of the first baby asked if we could take samples from the baby to confirm that it was his child, and that the second mom was a 14 year old girl with eclampsia (seizures during pregnancy). There seems something rather unnatural about ripping a baby from the cozy womb they've been resting in, and I think i'll do it the good old fashioned way when it's my turn.

not to knock my own institution

Today, three of us went on a short field trip to a nearby building, to have a pager replaced, which had taken an inadvertant bath in some toilet bowl water, and had consequently short-circuited. It seemed funny, upon entering the basement, that there was a display case containing an old nurses uniform and other such medical relics.

The next office door was labeled "telecommunications," and we all joked that is was a regular "NASA" at our institution. We mocked that the hospital pretended to make these major advancements in medical technology, and at the same time, were running their medical records like a library card catalogue. So it seemed even funnier when we walked in to the archaic office, and saw a line-up of about 8 ancient pagers on a small side table. Were those the pagers they offered, or were those like a timeline of the advancements in pager technology? For some reason I couldn't tell... I was looking for the cups on a string apparatus at the end of the row.

As the woman in the office licensed our new pager, my friend pointed out the telephone on the nearest end table. It's hard to describe, because it was a gigantic control panel of a phone and could only have been fully understood by an experienced operator from the 1940's or someone from the Starship Enterprise. I think I saw a crank on the side. I had to turn my body in the opposite direction, because I couldn't even look at the phone without laughing.

personality disorders

It's seems fairly interesting that almost every surgeon I have worked with on my medical school rotations has bordered on having severe personality "defects," as I like to call them. I have become accustomed to being largely ignored or bitched at. Today I was honored with special attention. The surgeon looked directly at me in the middle of a gyne surgery, and stared closely at the photo on my ID.
"You look so different in that picture," he says.
"Good, I hate this photo."
"No, you look cute... but you don't look like that anymore"
Silence
"Thanks?"
"You look like you lost weight... you should really gain that back."
"Ok, I guess I'll work on that."
"You really should."