Enjoy your birthday, sweetie!
Ramblings of an Emergency Physician in Texas
Some reflections on the first third of my life.
I’ve been blessed with people in all stages of my life who supported me, and even when situations didn’t warrant it, they kept believing. My parents are alive and healthy, three terrific kids, two grand kids, a most excellent and accomplished son-in-law (and another in the wings).
Professionally I’m on plane, and keep finding new things to be curious about, and sometimes fix, the lifelong learning continues.
My wife deserves the majority of the credit for survival to this point. She kept me from dying of malnutrition in med school, and refrained from killing me when I gave her the opportunity, and she’s The Best.
So, here’s to more 50 year BDay celebrations!
As a medical student in the GYN clinic in El Paso, one occasionally needed both language and female standby assistance, at the same time.
Occasionally like 80% of the time*.
I asked one of the clinic technicians to assist me with an exam; after we were done, trying to be med student charming I said “Thank you, senorita!”
She said, laughing, with the clinic staff chuckling at my discomfort, “It’s Senora, it’s only senorita until someone does you The Favor”.
Education takes many forms. Sometimes when you don’t expect it or even want it.
(This is however a family point of amusement, which we sincerely enjoy).
*Medical statistics are made up on the spot: 75% are BS and the other 33% don’t add up.
From my lovely wife the other day…
I posted this to Twitter earlier, but realized I wanted it on the blog, too.
Out of 23, that’s not bad! (It’s our 23rd, that’s just our little joke).
I love you. I always will.
Thanks for marrying me, and taking me away from all that.
Yep. He’s a touch older than in this picture (he was the lead mechanical engineer making this thing fly, in one year):
May you have many more!
Just went to the kitchen to get a drink. Went to the table to ask my lovely and patient wife how I could help with her sewing.
(This is a transparent thing all men do to make sure we get full credit for Caring; this is also transparent to our wives as a silly thing we do to keep from being Blamed).
Couldn’t help but notice the pad under her sewing machine was upside down, as the tag was up.
“I’d like to help you by getting the pad right-side up”, I said helpfully.
“It’s fine, it’s been like this for days” she said, thinking this would be mollifying. Silly girl.
“No, really, I’d like to help you with this”.
That’s when she grabbed her shears and cut off the tag.
“Cheating”, said I.
“Over”, said she.
I think she may really understand me. Still, I’ll turn the pad over soon.
Tonight I took a beautiful woman to dinner and a movie, and I chose (with assent) Argo based on the recommendation of friends. I have good friends.
I won’t actually review the movie, that’s what Rotten Tomatoes is for.
I will tell you a funny story.
We were driving away from the theater (all of 6 in the hall on a Tuesday night) when I said: “Hey, a movie where the Americans are the good guys”,
to which my lovely wife said
“Well, it’s about actual Americans”.
There ya go. A movie review.
PS: I need to learn to write with fewer I’s.
Tonight we had house alarm false #3 in about 6 weeks. Geez. Gift baskets for my neighbors.
To the alarm panel I go, and it tells me it’s a glassbreak downstairs. This isn’t good, as were I looking to break into the house I’d do it though the basement (and thus the glassbreaks, motion sensors, punjii-pits and laser traps).
So, to the bottom of the stair I go, and for the first time in my house I’m getting really spooked: someone is breathing heavily on the other end of the long room! I sweep the room behind me, and go to have a look, with the Voice of Doom in my right hand and a suddenly tremulous flashlight in the left. I clear the entire area, and nobody there, but the sound remains.
Then I hear a sharp noise behind me. I looked up to hear sound coming out of a glassbreak detector. Freaky. As I was about to curse the alarm manufacturer, hot water dripped on me.
Glassbreaks will alarm and make audible noise when you run water through them, turns out. The leak is in the dishwasher discharge on the floor above. Water and breaker are off to the dishwasher, and Monday will be calls to the trades.
Yes, by the way, this is the same ceiling the dishwasher dropped during the kitchen remodel several months ago. I have high hopes it’ll stay together and dry out well, though the dishwasher needs a different kind of union to the discharge piping.
I’m going to have the flashlight examined, too.
Somehow I won the marriage lottery, and got the best mate I could have. I cannot be more serious: nobody else on earth understands me better, and still accepts me. Win.
Happy Birthday, Honey!
Our youngest graduated from Chapman University in Orange, California a couple of weeks ago.
Aged 20. With Honors.
We are very proud of her, as you might imagine. And she’s in California, so employment awaits. And awaits.
This does not in any way detract from our manifest pride in her accomplishment (and my thanks for graduating a year early…).
She’s bright with a similar future. Here’s to Her!
I bought some school supplies when I started med school 22 years ago (has it been that long?). Index cards (used a lot of them), pencils (ditto), and a $12 pencil sharpener. Which wouldn’t sharpen a pencil worth a darn. Kept it anyway.
It mangled pencils for all the kids homework, and as we’ve all gotten more digital (and have outgrown homework, mostly) we don’t use pencils much any more.
In a recent cleanout of a desk we’re going to do without, it was re-discovered and brought to the office. Where it sang its farewell song, a perfectly sharpened pencil the first time, then it died in my hands.
I suppose it’ll get replaced someday, though for now we will respect its contributions by marking its absence. Farewell.
My brother, the Aerospace Genius, has gotten back into racing. Which he does better than me. he also blogs better, which is highly annoying.
Teamwork at the race track is a stunningly beautiful thing to behold, especially when the stakes are huge. I am forever indebted to Jay Messenger, John Fabijanic, and Dave Frietas for giving me far more help than I ever imagined I would need, and for saving me in the process. Without those golden sacrifices, my road racing adventure would have come to a bitter end instead of propelling a meteoric advance. While zigzagging toward the green flag, I told myself “I’m doing this for them, not for me.”
How does this grab you for ambition: Going straight from driver school to professional open wheel racing, with only two test days in between?
An interesting, and challenging weekend was had, with a happy outcome. Enjoy the Tale, and the Telling.
Sitemeter tells me people still visit this site. Probably from a sense of nostalgia, and I thank all of you for checking in here from time to time.
I’m working a lot of shifts, going to a lot of meetings, and still trying to have a semblance of a life. This leaves no time for original writing here.
The meetings: our Gigantic Corporate Overlord has graciously agreed to part with a Princely Sum of Cash, and in March we break ground on a new ED. Nice! (Figures off the top of my head: currently we have about 96 beds in 24K sq. feet and see 96K/yr, and we’re going to 81 rooms and 48K sq. ft.).
In case you missed that, we’re not scheduled to get the same number of beds as rooms, but a bunch of our current beds are hall beds. I hate hall beds. And, many of the new rooms are to be designed to ‘double up’ so we can put 2 beds in 1 treatment room, so we’re going to net more than we have now.
Additionally, 2 CT’s, an MRI, and 24 hour sono. And a designed environment rather than the hodgepodge of assumed spaces we currently have. (When I describe our current condition it sounds like I’m down on it, but I’m not. It’s functional. And our staff is terrific. Fortunately they’re going to make the move too)!
Bizarrely, I am one of three docs to work with the team that engages the architects, and it’s a fun if time consuming process. It’s fun to play ‘what if’ with these differently trained pros, and I feel like the time I’m spending there is worthwhile. I get to help design the ED I hope to retire in, and not many get to say that.
And did I mention we’re remodeling the kitchen in the homestead? No? We (had) a mostly original 1986 kitchen that was awesome 10 years ago when we moved in, but now is worn and dated. Well, was. Now it’s torn out to the walls. Our former bulkheads (fir-downs in Texas) were pulled out so we can go all the way to the ceiling, but they contained a lot of wires and plumbing (which are being moved). It’s very expensive entertainment watching the trades do their thing, and a tiny part of me wants to be one of them. Yes, my brain, thanks…
Speaking of the trades, the electricians liked our garden trolls, and decided they needed to be fed. Heh.
More to come.