Pondering....

How long can you spend with someone before their little habits and such really start to grate on your nerves? A week? A month? Years? What does it mean when those little things really start to grate on your nerves?

The BF and I have spent the last 7-8 days together almost non-stop. And, yes, I was getting a little frustrated with some of the things he does. For instance, leaving the shower head on when he gets out of the shower, so that when I go to take a shower, I will get blasted in the face by cold water. Thanks, B.

However, this is not a situation that is unique to him. I can't really be with ANYONE 24/7. There have been several other vacations with the girls where I have had to go off on my own to maintain my sanity. This is likely why I don't do well with roommates, as well.

I need alone time. I cherish it.

And, yet, tonight as the BF left, I felt somewhat abandoned and lonely. But, at the same time, I am looking so forward to curling up in my bed, cuddling under my blankets, and enjoying the sweet, sweet slumber that I can only get when I'm alone.

Maybe I'm bipolar.

Sweet dreams.

Is there a doctor on the plane?

On the red eye home Thursday night, I was curled up against the airplane window, dreaming of the Kardashians again, when all of the sudden, the flight attendant made this announcement:

"If there are any doctors, RNs, EMTs, or paramedics on-board, can you please ring your call light?"

I groggily woke up, looked at the BF and thought to myself, do I REALLY want to claim my profession at 3 in the morning on a plane? Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately), my sense of duty won out and I sleepily reached for the call light. The little red light flashed and suddenly a flight attendant appeared at our side. She said that a girl had passed out in the back of the plane and asked if I'd go take a look at her.

I made my way out to the aisle, hair a mess, with bad breath, and without my shoes, and walked briskly towards the back of the plane. A young girl was sitting on the floor, surrounded by a couple of flight attendants and very concerned passengers. As I knelt down to talk to her, one of the flight attendants asked, "Are you a nurse?"

Ok, now, one of my pet peeves is when people ask me if I'm a nurse. This is not because I think it is a bad thing to be a nurse or because I don't think nurses do a very difficult and noble job. Actually, I could NEVER be a nurse and I have a ton of respect for most of them. What irritates me about that question is that the only reason people ask it is because I am female. If I were a man responding to the flight attendants call, I would NEVER have been asked if I were a nurse - it would have been automatically assumed I was a doctor. And, even worse was the fact that a FEMALE asked me that!!!! It makes my blood boil.

But, I digress. On with the story...

I grudgingly replied, "No, I'm a DOCTOR," in my firmest voice.

Apparently, the girl had been making her way back from the bathroom, became lightheaded, and blacked out. The flight attendants had provided her with oxygen and some ice to cool her down. By the time I got to her, she was awake and coherent.

Unfortunately, there's very little I can do without some equipment when it comes to syncope. Luckily, the flight attendants were able to provide me with the crappiest stethoscope and blood pressure cuff known to man (or woman). We were right over the wing of the plane - the loudest part - and I couldn't hear a thing. In fact, I was wondering if maybe she was dead. But, since she had a pulse and was talking to me, I figured that wasn't the case.

As I was assessing passenger #1, another passenger began to feel lighheaded and said, "everything is getting very dark!!!"

Now, I'm thinking, "Oh god, we're gonna have an epidemic right here on flight 734. YIKES!"

Because passenger #1 had actually passed out, I focused my attention and energy on her. I asked her more questions, in an attempt to get a history, and silently swore to myself that I didn't have better physical exam skills. Typically, syncopal patients get a head CT, EKG, telemetry monitoring, blood work, accuchecks etc and about 40% of the time we never find out why people are syncopal. But, without those things, it's difficult for me to rule out hypoglycemia, stroke, arrhythmia, et cetera. So, the best I could do was get a decent history, examine her minimally, and reassure her that she was likely just orthostatic (dehydrated) and maybe hypoglycemic.

In the meantime, passenger #2 puked her guts out in a puke bag and suddenly felt all better. AKA - she was freaking out secondary to passenger #1 fainting.

I stayed back there with the two of them until we could get passenger #1 back into a seat. After a couple glasses of water, some orange juice, and cool air, passenger #1 began to feel better and her color gradually returned back to normal. Once I felt assured that she was going to be ok, filled out some paperwork, and encouraged the flight attendants to be sure paramedics met the plane when we landed, I made my way back to my seat.

When we landed, the paramedics filed on to the plane and walked both girls off to the emergency room, where they undoubtedly spent four to five hours laying on an uncomfortable ER bed and likely being sent home without any new information or diagnoses.

Most of my drive home that morning, I wondered what I would have done if the situation had been more serious. What if it were a cardiac arrest or a stroke? What am I supposed to do on a plane, without diagnostic tools, drugs, and other therapies? Yikes. What I did decide is that I will respond again if the flight attendants ever ask, "Is there a doctor on the plane?"

My 3rd (or 4th?) Fav City

So, I haven't posted in a while - mostly because I was in LA enjoying 5 days vacation with the BF. First of all, I'm in love. I'm kind of a luxury whore. And, apparently, a celebrity whore. Keep reading to learn about my whoreishness. ;)

We left on Sunday morning, landing at LAX around 10:30am. We headed down to Santa Monica beach and the Third Street Promenade. For some reason, it was unusually windy. Walking down the pier to the beach was about 4x harder than it should have been - we were walking directly into a headwind. None of the amusement rides were running because of the wind. However, it was super cool to see the ocean so choppy and angry.





We had lunch, then drove up the Pacific Coast Highway to Malibu. OMG, I LOVE the houses on the beach. There are beautiful clay roofs, copper awnings, stucco buildings. Love it.



Finally, we made it back to Beverly Hills where we were staying, driving past UCLA, Bel-air, and down Rodeo Drive!!! Ate dinner at the Stinking Rose - one of my favorite restaurants in San Fran that has a sister in Beverly Hills.

Next day, we did Hollywood. The walk of fame, the Kodak theatre, the Chinese theatre, Hollywood and Highland Center.








Ate at a fabulous little deli that serves the best California sandwiches!!! (P.S. One of my favorite foods is avocado - you can find avocado in abundance in LA!!!) Then, we headed to the WB Studios tour. Unfortunately, this was a mixed experience for me. First of all, we got to see the old Central Perk set!!! Seriously, I almost cried when I walked in there. So surreal.






We also got to see the set of The Big Bang Theory, a show the BF and I love to watch together. The bad part was the Harry Potter sorting hat - the stupid thing put me in Slytherin. I hate it. Then, we took a little walk down Rodeo Drive and had dinner at a fabulous little Italian restaurant.

Tuesday was, by far, my FAVORITE day!!!! In the morning, we headed down to Venice Beach to soak up some rays and some culture. We rented bikes and trucked it down towards Santa Monica beach. We saw Muscle Beach, street performers, crappy little touristy stores, and then ate lunch at the Fig Tree - FABULOUS! Rode up to see the Venice canals, which are totally cool and lined with some beautiful houses.



Then, we drove back towards Hollywood to go to Griffith Observatory. After hiking up a giant hill, we had the most beautiful views of LA and the Hollywood sign from the Observatory.






For dinner, we went to my new favorite restaurant ever - Cut, by Wolfgang Puck, at the Beverly Wilshire Hotel. Now, for those of you movie buffs, you'll, of course, remember that the Wilshire is the hotel where hooker Julia Roberts stays with Richard Gere in Pretty Woman. In the center of the foyer of the hotel, there's a gigantic crystal chandielier with a table underneath it - the table had vase after vase of gorgeous pink, white, and yellow roses.



The Blvd lounge is where Julia finds Richard playing the piano and they get it on. It looks similar to how it did in the movie but some of the tables have been changed. A bellhop met us at the door to welcome us and provide directions to Cut. First, we enjoyed cocktails at Sidebar, a lounge across from Cut. My favorite part of this was when a group of affluent, foreign gentlemen dressed in suits appeared. The men perused the wine list and one of them asked the bartender for a Reisling. The bartender showed him the bottle and the guy says, "Oh, no, that's much too young for my tastes." I laughed, rolled my eyes at the BF, and secretly thought to myself how I wish I was refined enough to say things like that.

We finished off our $40 cocktails and then headed over to Cut. It's a very modern restaurant with a glass wall that separates the kitchen from the dining room. The chefs done white chefs coats with hats and through the glass, you can see them working at expensive ovens and stoves. From the minute we were ushered to our table, I felt like I was a celebrity. The waiters and such wait on you hand and foot - replacing silverware that is used, changing napkins when you excuse yourself from the table, refreshing your wine glass, et cetera. The food was delicious, the wine was fabulous, the waiter was welcoming and accomodating, but none of that was the best part. Just as the BF and I were discussing how we hadn't yet seen any celebrities, who walks by but Bruce Jenner. I followed him all wide-eyed and gave the BF a questioning, "is that who I think it is?" look and he nodded with a big smile. Now, if it were for Keeping Up with the Kardashians, I wouldn't even know who Bruce Jenner was. He was seated at a large table big enough for 6 with another couple. So, of course, I'm totally thrilled because I'm wondering who the other 5 guests will be!!! The BF got up to the go to the bathroom and when he returned, he followed in Kris Jenner and their two young girls!!! Kris looks just like she does on TV; however, Bruce is much taller and has floppier hair than I imagined. ;)

So, their table was full and we figured that was it - until the waiters pulled up two more chairs and Reggie Bush marches past us!!! Then, dinner was served, and I was distracted by the presentation of the food. When I turned back to look at the Jenner table, a dark-haired girl was seated by Reggie. Of course, I assumed it was Kim, but because her back was to me, I couldn't tell. Therefore, I embarrassed the BF by asking the waiter if the girl was Kim or Kortney. He verified that it was, in fact, Kim and I got little butterflies in my stomach!!! Kim Kardashian, Reggie Bush, Kris and Bruce Jenner were eating less than three tables away!!! I just want to point out that the entire time the BF is telling me to keep my cool, to act like I belong, to NOT approach their table and ask for an autograph or a picture. This, btw, is why I have no pictures of this siting!

So, at this point, I'm scanning the restaurant to see if I notice any other celebrities and I see this guy who looks like Spencer from Spencer and Heidi on The Hills. However, I never watch that show and I generally think it's stupid, so I couldn't remember their names.

I tried to describe to the BF who I thought they were.....it came out as some stuttering mess like, "Who was that guy that married Lauren from The Hills?"

He looked confused and said, "Huh? Lauren?"

Frustrated, I said, "Yes, you know, Lauren and....? It was a big deal and all over The Soup!!!!" (BTW, I've finished off a glass of Pinot and half a bottle of Merlot by this point.)

Still appearing to have no idea what I'm talking about, he said, "You mean Heidi and Spencer?!?"

"YES!!! Doesn't that guy up there look like Spencer?" I noted.

BF: "Well....actually....that is him!"

Ok, so this didn't excite me nearly as much, because, truly, Heidi and Spencer are nobodies that somehow ended up famous. But, still, KIM KARDASHIAN!!!! And, actually, Eric Benet - Halle Berry's ex-husband, was eating at the table next to us, as well.

Eventually, Bruce got up to go to the bathroom, and a table of giggly 18 year olds intercepted him for a picture. This is when it happened - the Jenner/Kardashian table turned around to look and the dark-haired girl at Reggie's side turned around and looked our direction. BF and I exchanged excited glances as it was verified that our waiter was, in fact, right - it was KIM!

Ok, now, look, I realize Kim Kardashian is nothing more than a girl who had a sex tape released and therefore, consequently, became famous. But, I love her. Here are the reasons why:

A. She's super hot and curvy.
B. I kinda want to be her.
C. Did I mention how she's hot?

Anyway, so, after that, I felt content enough to leave and we followed Bruce out to the bathroom. I went to sleep that night and dreamt of the Kardashians.



Next day, we perused Rodeo Drive and I invested in my mandatory Tiffany's purchase. At each big city I visit, I purchase something from Tiffany's. That way, I have a souvenir of the location that I will actually use.



We went to the Beverly Center and did a little shopping. Then, we headed down to Long Beach to visit the Queen Mary, a humungous oceanliner that used to ship troops back and forth across the Atlantic during World War II. Supposedly, there are ghosts that haunt the ship - crew members that died on board, passengers that met their fate at sea, or passengers of another ship that the Queen Mary crashed into. So, the best part of this was the simulated Ghosts and Legends tour that takes you into the depths of the ship. Afterwards, we headed back to Hermosa Beach, where we were staying for the night. Had dinner and then went back to the hotel to relax and share a bottle of wine before watching Lost!!!! (P.S. Sayid tried to kill Ben, just as I said he would - awesome!)



Next morning, we walked down to the Hermosa Beach, watched some surfers and volleyball players, and breathed fresh, ocean air.


Then, we drove to Beverly Hills to eat at Jerry's Famous Deli - a place often visited by the Entourage boys. In fact, it was where E and Vince met up with Mandy Moore in one episode of Entourage. Then, we were tourists at Universal Studios. On the studio tour, we saw Wisteria Lane, where the awesome Desperate Housewives is filmed. You can see some of the houses below:




Finally, we ended our trip with the red eye back home this morning. Something sort of exciting happened on the plane, which I'll blog about later, since this post is ridiculously long. Anyway, now, I'm back home, in boring Ohio, already missing the glitz, glam, and luxury of LA. Sigh. Three more days off, though! YAY! :)

VACATION!!!!

Girls and boys, it is a MIRACLE!!! I'm on VACATION!

What does this mean, you ask? It means I have 9 glorious days out of the hospital. Doesn't matter if I go anywhere, do anything, see anyone - just that I have 9 days off.

Here's to hoping the next week goes by very, very slowly. :)

Angel vs. Devil

I have an angel on my shoulder. And, a devil on the other. They converse all day long. It goes something like this:

Devil: Yummy!!! Donut!!! Think how good that will taste.
Angel: Don't do it. Your hips will hate you for it.
Devil: Your mouth will love you, though.
Angel: You have to get on the scale soon!
Me: (((Insert donut in mouth))) ...Damn the Devil.

Often times, the Devil is encouraging me to do all the things I love to do that are bad for me. Eat bad food. Conveniently forget to work out. Blog instead of reading medical junk. You know how it goes.

Lately, I've been listening to the Devil much too often and I'm feeling very overwhelmed. I'm wondering how I've been juggling everything for so long. Where am I supposed to find time to nurture my relationship, maintain my friendships, keep in touch with my family, eat right, work out, sleep, learn what I need to learn to be a good physician, and so on?

I think maybe I should make a motion for days to be 36 hours in length. Who do I need to contact for that?

Three Ring Hospital

I feel as though I should have circus music playing the background for this blog. Truly, the hospital is often a circus. At least, it seems to be whenever I am there.

A few stories to wet your whistle.

A doctor once told us of a morbidly obese woman that came into the hospital in critical condition. She was intubated and therefore, was unable to verbalize anything to her doctors or husband. Her also morbidly obese husband sat by her side, talking quietly to her, day in and day out. The doctors were convinced that he was a doting husband that was badly grieving over his wife's illness. But, no. Turns out, the couple had two refrigerators. Hers was padlocked because she was tired of him stealing her food. He sat by her bed in the unit each day awaiting for her to awaken so he could find out her combination. Now, that's true love.

Another morbidly obese woman presented to the hospital with a myocardial infarction. While waiting for her heart cath, she was NPO - which means, nothing by mouth. During an examination, a doctor lifted up her breast to listen to her heart, only to find a turkey sandwich that her daughter had snuck in for her. Apparently, not eating for a few hours was too much her.

Recently, there was a middle aged gentleman that presented to the ED with chest pain. As per the usual, the CCU resident evaluated the patient and admitted him to the CCU, with plans for a heart catherization in the very near future. For the most part, he seemed like a normal house patient. Of course, he made odd comments to the attractive female residents and nurses, such as, "How much would it cost me to sit here and just stare at you all night long?" and "I'm going to go to sleep now and dream about you." Kinda creepy, but we figured he was just a dirty old man.

Anyway, he went for his cath, had triple vessel disease, and cardiothoracic surgery was consulted. CT surg saw the patient and determined he was not a candidate for surgery. The next day, the cardiologist returned with the patient to the cath lab and stented the more critically stenosed vessels. All was fine and well. That is until he went CRAZY.

At around 4pm, the nurse came to inform me that the patient was dressed and threatening to leave. I inquired why and she proceeded to tell me how he believed a certain nurse in the CCU was stealing money from him. I rolled my eyes and calmly approached the patient, asking why he was so determined to leave. He cried, he yelled, he told me how the nurse/his girlfriend (who, by the way, are NOT the same person, but appeared to be in his mind) was stealing money from him, lying to him, manipulating him. I attempted to reason with him, explaining that the nurse was NOT his girlfriend.

Then, I dropped the bombshell - he would not be permitted to leave the hospital. OMG, you would have thought I told him that I was going to cut off his arm. He threatened to sue me, he told me he was going to bury me in legal papers. Of course, I laughed at this, which apparently he didn't appreciate. He told me I was the devil's child and he was going to put me in a dark room with spiders crawling on the walls and cracks and blah blah blah.

Then, HE dropped the bombshell....and the threat that I needed to offically pink slip him. He said he was going to bury his girlfriend alive for keeping him in the hospital. So, I pink slipped him, told the nurse to call security if he threatened or tried to leave, and retired to my call room.

Twenty five minutes later, the fire alarm went off. For a moment, I sat there staring blankly at the blinking light in my call room, thinking, "Huh, is that for real?" Then, the code Violet was called. I ran out to the CCU to find the nurses wrestling the above mentioned patient to the ground and security rushing to the scene. Apparently, the patient had pulled the fire alarm - not once, but twice. The patient was ushered back into bed, kicking and screaming, put into leathers, and given a hefty dose of haldol. I called psych and arrangements were made for the patient to be discharged to the psychiatric hospital once he was medically stable.

Now, for any of you non-medical folks reading this, you probably think that we were cruel to this guy. But, here are the reasons we did what we did:

A. He was delusional (and likely an undiagnosed schizophrenic)
B. He was not able to make his own decisions based on A. - therefore, he could not be allowed to leave the hospital against medical advice. For people that are competent, if a patient wants to leave and verbalizes understanding of the risk of leaveing, we give them a paper to sign and they're welcome to leave AMA.
C. He was threatening to harm other people if he did leave.
D. He was physically abusive to the nurses AND pulled a fire alarm. We had to wait until the fire department came and released the alarm before we could even leave the CCU or get into the med room. That's very dangerous to other patients in the unit.

These are all reasons why he was not allowed to leave and why he was restrained. So, stop judging me and thinking how I'm such a mean girl. ;)

Kreativ Blogger

First of all, I want to thank Rose and Jill for giving me such a fun award! And, of course, for just being so darn cool. ;)

Here are the award rules: List 7 things that you love, and then pass the award on to 7 bloggers that you love! Be sure to tag them and let them know that they have won. You can copy the picture of the award and paste it on your sideboard letting the whole world know...you are Kreativ!

So, for 7 things I love:

1. Lazy Sundays spent in bed
2. Apple martinis
3. Dance, Dance Revolution
4. Carrot and Pumpkin (my cats, not the veggies - altho, carrots are ok, too!)
5. Deep tissue massages
6. Snuggling
7. My family, friends, the boy, etc.

Now, for seven bloggers I love:

1. Jaci at Ravings of a Mad Housewife - Jaci and I went to high school together. Unfortunately, I haven't seen her since graduation, but I love reading her blogs and catching up on what she's up to.

2. Cheryl at Confessions of a Twenty Something Year Old - she's super easy to relate to and she never fails to make me laugh.

3. Impulsive Addict from Confessions from an Impulsive Addict - also a super sassy lady who leaves the sweetest comments and makes me giggle. Check her out.

4. Jen at Maybe If You Just Relax - Like Jaci, Jen and I went to high school together, as well. I haven't seen her since graduation either. Recently, I found her blog and as I browsed through, I could not stop laughing. And, not just little laughs but like big belly laughs that bring tears to my eyes. What a fun gal. Little does she know, but she kinda inspired me to write my own blog, although I, of course, will never be as funny or as cool as her.

5. Tangee at Jaded Librarian - Tangee and I went to college together. She's grounded, down-to-earth, and all around awesome.

6. The Obnoxious SAHM - just a funny girl. I love her little video blogs and her Sunday Spotlight.

7. Michelle over at the Picture a Day Project - I LOVE her pictures and I think this is such a super cool idea for a blog.

Ok, girls, so congratulations on being fabulous!

Now, I also need to put in a little plug for The Green Bag Giveaway over at Le Musings of Moi. Go check it out. You could maybe win some awesome bags!

Sick and Cranky

The BF has been sick for a week. He's also been working in Akron and, therefore, has been over a lot lately. I thought maybe I'd built up an immune system of steel, because I had somehow avoided catching his disease.

Obviously, I was wrong.

I'm tired, I have a sore throat, I'm congested, nauseated, achy....and, basically I just want my mommy. Isn't it funny how when we're sick, we want our mom? I guess it's just instinct that we want someone to take care of us. Besides, who else is going to make me soup, bring me medicine, and wait on me hand and foot?

Too bad my mom is an hour away. Can I teach the cats to make soup? Hmmm....

On the bright side, I'll be preparing for vacation about this time next week. And, truly, it is a much needed and much deserved vaca. I haven't really had a break since September. Plus, I've worked the last 21 days in a row. Did I mention how I'm tired?

Pay It Forward

I read about this little game on Spunky Teddy Graham's blog.

Basically, the first three people to comment on this post will receive a gift of some sort from me within the next month or two. I don't yet know what it will be, but I promise it will be fabulous. Nor do I know when I'll be sending it. But, that's part of the fun - the surprise and suspense!!!

So, to play....

1) Be one of the first three comments
2) Post a "Pay It Forward" on your blog
3) That's it, you're done. Then, just wait to get your fantastic surprise!

S as in SASSY!

A super duper lady that you can meet over at Impulsive Addict gave me the sassy letter S for a stupendous game.

The task: List and describe 10 things that begin with S that I love.

The list (in no particular order):

Scrapbooking. I am so NOT a creative person. The scientist in me has crushed the creativity right on out. However, I LOVE scrapbooking. Taking pictures is one of my favorite pasttimes and I enjoy being able to channel some of my creative energy into showcasing those pictures into scrapbooks. Funny thing is that I've made several scrapbooks ...all of which have been gifts for my friends! So, I don't even have one of my own. I keep planning on getting around to it and never do. Damn residency.

San Francisco. OMG, I love San Fran! Currently, I live in dreary, gray Northeastern Ohio and often I wonder why I am not living in one of the other dreary, gray, cold places I love such as Chicago or San Francisco. Think how much hotter my ass would be if I were trucking up and down those hills all the time?!? Hot!

Smartphone. For years, I was stuck in the dark ages with a pink, non-internet-accessing flip phone. In May, I invested in my current phone and I LOVE it. I always have the internet, a GPS, a calculator, my calendar, a phone, etc etc with me at all times. It's another addiction I thoroughly enjoy.

Seven. No idea why, but I love the number 7. I also love the movie Seven. Yes, it's a pretty freaky movie, but you gotta appreciate the twists. And, who doesn't love Brad Pitt? I mean, seriously!

St. Patrick's Day. The Irish girl in me loves St. Patty's Day. Beer. A day dedicated to drinking. What's not to love?

Shoes. On Valentine's Day, I bought four new pairs. This is becoming a real problem. For my feet and my closet. But, I just can't resist a sexy new pair of shoes!

Sex and the City. I've never had HBO, so I missed this show when it was in it's prime. However, I believe I've seen almost all the episodes on TBS and now I own the entire collection on DVD. I love the friendships between the girls, the fashion, and, of course, the SHOES!



I mean, seriously - how can you not love these girls?!?

Shopping. Love it! 'Nuff said.

Sleeping. I don't get to sleep often. And, I generally don't sleep well. So, when I get the opportunity for sleep, it's a fabulous thing.

Scary movies. As a child, I sssoooo afraid of scary movies, especially the Nightmare on Elm Street movies. A few nights, I stayed up all night, afraid to go to sleep because Freddy might get me in my dreams. Yea, I've grown out of that now. I heart scary movies - especially the ones that are actually realistic and could happen.

The End.

I hope you enjoyed this episode of Things I Love Brought to You by the Letter S.

The Power of the Mind

Over on Tiffany's blog, you can learn about a FABULOUS contest, as well as Fishful Thinking.

Fishful Thinking is a website geared at encouraging children to concentrate on the positive things in life and to be optimistic, teaching them that they are able to accomplish anything they want to. Now, after reading a little about Fishful Thinking, I got to thinking about my own attitude. Am I glass half empty or a glass half full kinda gal? According to people close to me, I'm probably a somewhat negative person. I have a tendency to dwell on upcoming events (aka work, ICU months, call nights) and allow that to affect me for a couple days beforehand at times. When I have a bad day, it's the negative things I remember and concentrate on - not the positive things.

However, at the same time, I've accomplished a lot in my twenty-eight years and I'm very proud of it. I came from a family with limited resources. My parents were pregnant with me when they were still in high school - resulting in a marriage, divorce, and lack of college educations for both of my parents in their early lives. Research shows that most children of teenage parents also become teenage parents. Despite all of that, I've somehow made it through high school without getting pregnant, graduated from a fantastic private college with honors, shockingly got accepted to a reputable medical school, and am now pursuing the career I've always dreamt of. I realize I can have anything I want out of life. And, I plan to get everything I want out of life.

So, how is it that a person like me is so negative? It's true. I am. I'm cranky and moody. Bad things happen and I dwell and smolder and make more bad things happen. Most of the time I'm happy, outgoing, and easy to get along with. But, on a bad day - watch out, folks. But, then again, isn't it ok to have a bad day? How is it that some people always seem happy-go-lucky and positive? Do bad things just not happen to those peoeple? Or, do they somehow find a way to make the bad things good things?

Ok, wow. That was deep. I need an Advil. ;)

Misadventures in Skiing

Ok, so I've never been skiing. Until yesterday. And, overall, I would call the experience a disaster. A complete failure. And, I'm so disappointed. I'd been looking forward to it all winter. We kept making plans to go and then something would happen to interrupt those plans. Well, obviously there was a reason why - I was not meant to go skiing. I may not be meant to ski ever.

On Sunday nights, the nearby ski resort has a great package - $39 for a lesson, lift ticket, and rental. So, even though I was post-call, having slaved in the ICU all weekend, my boyfriend and I thought we'd try it out. I got all bundled up in my makeshift ski-wear and drove my grumpy, sleep-deprived self north to the slopes. We got there around 4. After paying for the package, the lady at the counter inquires what our level of skiing expertise is. We exchange a glance and agree to be beginners.

"Oh, well, the lesson for beginners isn't until 7," she says with a smile.

SEVEN?!? What? She couldn't tell us this before we forked over our $80?!?

Obviously we weren't gonna wait around until 7 for lessons. So, like the troopers that we are, we tromped on over to the rental area, picked up our skis and stumbled our way into our gear. Once out in the wintery cold, we gingerly made our way onto the snow and attempted to teach ourselves to ski.

There are some things you just shouldn't teach yourself. However, it wasn't the skiing that was the challenge. It was the moving sidewalk. Whoever came up with the concept of a moving sidewalk that one is supposed to maneuver while on skis truly is not the brightest bulb in the box.

All the kids were doing it. I figured I could too. I confidently placed my skis on the belt, leaning slightly forward. I wavered. I teetered. Oh, yea, and I fell flat on my ass. The belt continued to move. The skiers behind me stopped, looking on in wonder (and likely amusement) at my body tangled in skis. I grasped the railing, attempting to pull myself upright, instead twisting my body further into a pretzel. Finally the belt stopped. I laughed. I cried. I tried to act like I meant for it to happen. I somehow untangled myself from skis and turned right around and marched back down past the 4 year olds waiting to get to the top of the hill. Oh, the humiliation.

So, I couldn't even make it to the top of the hill. Maybe I can ski. Actually, I seemed to be doing a pretty good job with the skiing part. But, I may never know how good I am because I can't maneuver the lift. It's pathetic.

We left at 5:30. I guess I really did need a lesson.