DWTS

I know Dancing with the Stars has been on for a few years, but this is the first season I've truly gotten into and I love it! Some thoughts I have....

1. Gilles always puts on a great show and is ssssooooo hot!!! I want to dance with him. How does he moves those hips like that?!?

2. Steve-O annoys the hell out of me and can't possibly be sexy and romantic when he has tattoos on his knuckles. Ew.

3. Lil Kim is totally my favorite. She can totally move her sexy little body and she surprises me every week. I like her best probably because she is surprising - I never expected her to be quite so good or to put so much passion into her dances. Awesome.

4. I just wanna pinch Shawn Johnson's adorable little cheeks. I loved her during the Olympics and I love her now. However, is her partner gay? Because if not, I think he might be taking advantage of young Shawn. Uh oh!

5. I HATE Melissa Rycroft. I'm so sick of all of these people who are basically nobodies riding the reality show train. Ugh. Wish she would just go away.

6. Ty is so super cute. I just love him despite the fact that he's not a great dancer. He tries so hard and has such a great attitude. I hope he sticks around a while longer.

Here's to hoping Steve-O goes home tonight! And, to hoping I can sit in my call room and watch it!!!!

Almost perfect Saturday

Last night was my last evening of freedom before beginning nights. So, I had big plans to go out, drink large quantities of wine, and sleep in late. None of that really happened. Instead, we went to Panini's, ate large quanitities of food, drank a few beers, and I was passed out on the couch by 10:30.

Ok, all you young girls that are shaking your head at me for being asleep by 10:30 on a Friday night, I have a good excuse! A. I'm old. B. My work hours suck - I was up at 4:10am Friday morning. And, lastly, C. Sleep is sssoooo underrated.

As a young'un, I loved staying out every other night until the wee hours of the morning, shakin' my money maker with the girls. As an elderly working woman, I need my sleep. I cherish it more and more as time goes by.

But, anyway, back to today. We got up around 9, watched a few episodes of Entourage, then went to Best Buy. Enjoyed an awesome hot chocolate and avocado sandwich at First Watch and then spent the afternoon lounging on the couch, watching Slumdog Millionaire. It was almost the perfect Saturday. And, then, I came to work.

Perfect Saturday ruined. Sadness.

Flat Top Stove

I had an argument about the BF's flat top stove tonight.

Last night, I stopped by the store and picked up pork chops, potatoes, and garlic bread for dinner. When I got to his place, I made the chops, I whipped the potatoes, I cooked the bread. Unfortunately, the potatoes boiled over and apparently made a few little black spots on his stove. However, dinner was delicious, if I don't say so myself.

(Oh, btw, when we heard the potatoes boiling over, he looked at me, pointed, and said, what's that? No, no, don't get up now. Wouldn't want to miss a possession during the Cavs game, now, would you?!?)

However, tonight, I got yelled at because I "always make a mess" when I cook. Hmmm.

So, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little pissed. I cook so that I don't have to clean. Cleaning is his job. And, freaking give me a break - the water boiled over. It so NOT the end of the world. Oh, and btw, I WENT TO THE STORE AND COOKED THE MEAL. Shouldn't I get a little credit? (Ok, so he did say how it was a really good meal two or three times. But, that doesn't count).

When we're here, I do the cooking AND the cleaning. Why? Because my kitchen is too small and he doesn't know his way around. Blah. Learn your way around.

Think that'll be the last meal I'll be cooking for a while.

Randomness

I've had the last two days off. It's been glorious.

Yesterday, the weather was kind of crappy but I spent the day lazing around my apartment, napping on the couch with the kitties, and enjoying a yummy dinner of stuffed shells with the BF. Today, the weather is AWESOME and I'm still kind of lazing around my apartment. I did go to Panera and do some reading about sepsis and I made it to Target to get some much-needed household items.

I also started planning what I will be packing when I go to Disney the first week in May. I'm super excited about this trip because we're taking my 4 year old princess-obsessed cousin along and I can't wait to see her reaction to the parks. When I was a child, we went to Disney at least once every two years and, as far as I'm concerned, it really is the happiest place on earth. I love to just lose myself in all of the fantasies.

Can I just say how much I love traveling? I really should have picked a profession that allows me more opportunity to travel. I plan trips months in advance and always seem to be constantly counting down to my next get-away. In September, the girls and I plan on going somewhere tropical. I'm still unsure where this will be - maybe a cruise, maybe somewhere in the Caribbean, Virgin Islands, Bahamas.... who knows?

In the meantime, back to work on Friday for one more day shift, followed by 7 nights starting on Saturday. I'm thrilled! (note the sarcasm!)

Apologies

....so, I'm on ICU. For a month. A WHOLE month.

ICU is...well, to choose one word: painful.

The patients are super sick, the attendings are hard-core, and the hours are torture. It's 5am to 5pm ....with 4 days off all month.

It's Day Three. My back aches. My shoulders are sore. My eyes burn at the end of the day. I go to bed at 8:30pm. My dinner has consisted of fruity pebbles for the last three nights. Pathetic, I know!

So, for all these reasons, I apologize for my blogging absenteeism.

Only 27 more days to go!!!!

But, who's counting?

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?"