Tomorrow I take USMLE Step 2 CK (clinical knowledge).
A pretty big effing exam. 9 hrs long, but more than that, is it arguably the most important factor when being considered by potential residency programs.
Is it true the everyone takes off an entire month or even two to solely devote to studying for this exam?
You bet.
Is it true that everyone is calling me crazy?
Yup.
Is it true that we already knew I was a little crazy?
mmm yes sir yes ma'am. My parents may even raise their eyebrows and make a funny face that says, "haaa yaa right" in reference to "little" in front of the "crazy". Which is totally fine with me, after all, I am a product of the two of their crazies put together. What did you expect!?
So that's tomorrow, the 14th.
Sunday, the 15th I depart 5am for Montreal and then turn around and come right back (except don't get in until 1030pm), just so I can renew my visa (you all remember how smoothly that went around this time last year???)
25th -- I take the MCCEE (the Canadian equivalent of Step 2 CK)
26th --- I take the IM shelf board exam. so what, who cares.
27th -- last day of IM rotation and take the hospital's final exam. Bitch please, that's child's play.
Immediately after, start driving to Halifax.
20 hrs later. Arrive.
30th -- start in the addictions psychiatry for 4 weeks. Insert big smile here.
Well... I fell (dove into) the rabbit hole a long-way back... I'm long past 'turning back now'.
Now, while you read this and send divine-genius-good-vibes my way (thanks for that - even though I'm probably already done the exam by the time you read this), I want to give you a gift back to show my appreciation of your support.
---> Today I started in the ICU, where I will be for 2 weeks until I finish this IM rotation, and after 2 hours of rounding I am beginning to zone out a little... until I hear this...
Next patient. This is a morbidly obese male who was rolled out of his bed. He subsequently could not get up. And stayed there for 2 days.... His wife continued to feed him. He then aspirated. So he was finally admitted with aspiration pneumonia and acute-on-chronic kidney failure.
Just let that story, and more importantly the visual, ruminate with you.
You're welcome.
Friday, 13 September 2013
Monday, 2 September 2013
Little Talks.
In the past month and a half I have now had 3 of these:
Hang up. Go on with my day until all of a sudden my 26 dateless years flash before me (accidental dates where I sweat buckets don't count okay).
You know it's out of control when... during my break at the lake, while watching a movie on TV with my father who can't stand reality shows, a commercial for the Bachelor comes on:
Conversation with lady I rent my room from in her house. This morning while making coffee:
Little Links:
- me: hey!
- friend: hey! how are you!?
- me: oh I'm fine and how are you!?
- friend: I'm good! .... I'm engaged!!!
Hang up. Go on with my day until all of a sudden my 26 dateless years flash before me (accidental dates where I sweat buckets don't count okay).
You know it's out of control when... during my break at the lake, while watching a movie on TV with my father who can't stand reality shows, a commercial for the Bachelor comes on:
- silence. serious dad voice: "maybe you should go on that show"
- me: thanks dad. I have never considered that. I have however thought I should be the Bachelorette as then I have all the control. But still, not quite entirely sure how to process that suggestion.
- friend: I'm having a party at my place this weekend because I'm leaving Baltimore. You are coming!
- me: oooo yaaaa... I wish I could, but I really don't want to.
- friend: You are so ridiculous! Do you hang out with anyone here!?
- me: I do actually! Visad and I were on the same floor team for a while, will be on night-float together, and always get along great and have fun. And I hang out with these girls all the time! We have a blasty-blast together. Bam.
- friend: are you talking about in the setting of the hospital? That's not 'hanging-out'!!! "Out" actually means outside of the confines of work!
- me: oh. well then you got me. checkmate.
Conversation with lady I rent my room from in her house. This morning while making coffee:
- Lady: I'm so glad you don't have to work today. I can't get over how much you have to work. It's like a marathon.
- Me: Ya a full day off to just study is blessing
- Lady: I'm going to make ____ for lunch later do you want one! (she's very persistent in trying to feed me and I'm running out of creative ways to say why I don't want anything and will eat what I make, such that she will drop it and not be offended)
- Me: oh that's sweet of you. No thank you though. I am going out to grab a quick coffee later with a friend so I'll just have something to eat then.
- Lady: oh! That is soooo good you are going out and doing something! You never do that!
Little Links:
Monday, 26 August 2013
Baltimore Blagh.
After that chaotic vent I feel I owe you a update with a more organized and less frenetic tone.
I had the best 2 weeks of love, beauty, family, friends, freedom and rest at the lake. I truly don't think it could have been more perfect. The perfection started as soon as I walked through the doors through customs into the terminal... there was my mom, J-bird, Becks, and my lovely Nash kids all holding "welcome home" and "we missed you" signs, and running to saturate me with hugs. Epic.
Non-stop laughter with my crazyass cousins. Laughter from my soul, laughter so deep from the belly your stomach hurts, laughter until tears stream down your face with my kindred-spirit AJM. AJM and I also fulfilled our tradition of milking the crap out of spa amenities... spending over 10 cumulative hours in 3 spa pools, 7 different themed steam and sauna rooms (may or may not have included "european hour"), 4 themed showers (like 'thunder storm' or 'tropics'), lounging in the 'tea room', and lounging in the 'serenity room'. Oh my stars. It was truly a heavenly dream.
Back to reality.
Now living in Baltimore. I am on my last 'core' rotation!!!! Internal Medicine. Which is what it sounds like... really the core of medicine. The bread and butter so-to-speak.
Which is proving to be a great struggle for a girl who can't eat bread and doesn't really appreciate butter. Plus 'core' makes me think apple core, and God knows only weirdos would enjoy eating that and if you *were* to attempt to eat it, it surely would not go down the esophagus easily. That's pretty much how I feel about internal medicine.
This bloated, crampy, painful feeling about IM is really 3 fold.
1. IM consists of a shitload of talking and not a lot of actual doing. These people can spend an hour talking about elevated potassium levels, or debating on the meaning of one specific wave pattern on an EKG. Don't get me wrong, this shit is important, which is why I'm thankful people exist that truly enjoy this type of excessive-analyzing conversations. It's not as bad when I'm actually seeing patients and working through the differentials and plan with my resident, however, the program here also includes daily afternoon conferences with lectures, images of the week, EKGs of the week, and case-presentation after case-presentation after case-presentation. All afternoon. Sitting there. I can tolerate it until... I can't. Then it is just painful to sit there when my mind is all, "stop talking stop talking stop talking!! move the fuuuuuuu on!!!!!!" So in summation, one could say I may not have the ideal personality to go into IM.
2......... confession: I started writing this like 5 weeks ago, and now that I come back to wrap this crap up and just post it, I really can't exactly recall what my other '2-folds' were. So if you don't follow me, don't feel bad, I can't even follow me sometimes. Although I'm pretty sure my 2nd point was about how I am taking Step 2 CK (next usa board exam) and MCCEE (canadian board exam) Sept 14 and 25th respectively, so finding time to effectively study has been quite challenging. This just makes me resent the long hours and non-stop talking.
3. let's just make this simple and refer back to #1.
Some 'highlights'. Or 'lowlights' depending on how you view it I guess.
I had the best 2 weeks of love, beauty, family, friends, freedom and rest at the lake. I truly don't think it could have been more perfect. The perfection started as soon as I walked through the doors through customs into the terminal... there was my mom, J-bird, Becks, and my lovely Nash kids all holding "welcome home" and "we missed you" signs, and running to saturate me with hugs. Epic.
Non-stop laughter with my crazyass cousins. Laughter from my soul, laughter so deep from the belly your stomach hurts, laughter until tears stream down your face with my kindred-spirit AJM. AJM and I also fulfilled our tradition of milking the crap out of spa amenities... spending over 10 cumulative hours in 3 spa pools, 7 different themed steam and sauna rooms (may or may not have included "european hour"), 4 themed showers (like 'thunder storm' or 'tropics'), lounging in the 'tea room', and lounging in the 'serenity room'. Oh my stars. It was truly a heavenly dream.
Back to reality.
Now living in Baltimore. I am on my last 'core' rotation!!!! Internal Medicine. Which is what it sounds like... really the core of medicine. The bread and butter so-to-speak.
Which is proving to be a great struggle for a girl who can't eat bread and doesn't really appreciate butter. Plus 'core' makes me think apple core, and God knows only weirdos would enjoy eating that and if you *were* to attempt to eat it, it surely would not go down the esophagus easily. That's pretty much how I feel about internal medicine.
This bloated, crampy, painful feeling about IM is really 3 fold.
1. IM consists of a shitload of talking and not a lot of actual doing. These people can spend an hour talking about elevated potassium levels, or debating on the meaning of one specific wave pattern on an EKG. Don't get me wrong, this shit is important, which is why I'm thankful people exist that truly enjoy this type of excessive-analyzing conversations. It's not as bad when I'm actually seeing patients and working through the differentials and plan with my resident, however, the program here also includes daily afternoon conferences with lectures, images of the week, EKGs of the week, and case-presentation after case-presentation after case-presentation. All afternoon. Sitting there. I can tolerate it until... I can't. Then it is just painful to sit there when my mind is all, "stop talking stop talking stop talking!! move the fuuuuuuu on!!!!!!" So in summation, one could say I may not have the ideal personality to go into IM.
2......... confession: I started writing this like 5 weeks ago, and now that I come back to wrap this crap up and just post it, I really can't exactly recall what my other '2-folds' were. So if you don't follow me, don't feel bad, I can't even follow me sometimes. Although I'm pretty sure my 2nd point was about how I am taking Step 2 CK (next usa board exam) and MCCEE (canadian board exam) Sept 14 and 25th respectively, so finding time to effectively study has been quite challenging. This just makes me resent the long hours and non-stop talking.
3. let's just make this simple and refer back to #1.
Some 'highlights'. Or 'lowlights' depending on how you view it I guess.
- had a 400lb patient with severe heart failure because his little heart had to work so hard to supply his huge body, as well as a big ol' fat infected leg because he is huge and diabetic. I had the pleasure of seeing him every morning for a week and listen to him whine about one thing after another, the best being a bitch fest to me over what a terrible place this was and he was getting poor care because we didn't have an MRI machine that he could fit in. I wanted to say, 'sir do you realize that theoretically we take people like you to the zoo to be imaged? If you don't like our care maybe try checking in there first next time.' But instead, I just had to fake empathy for 3 seconds and then examine him --- putting my stethoscope on his hairy. sweaty. oh-so-sweaty. body. Then spend the next 10 mins disinfecting and questioning my life choices.
- 61 year old black lady in the ED. I was admitting her for chronic diarrhea. She was a chatty one, and I could just tell this is someone who has no one that will listen to her stories, so I did. She gave me her life story, the highs, the lows, and included a particularly fascinating story about how she used to work on the pipelines in Alaska for several years and then she moved to Vegas. She started out as a waitress, but then through some friend-of-a-friend ended up going to a go-go dancing club. She's all "oooooh honey... I had never seen anything like it. The girls tiiiiitttys were right in front of the man's face!! But noooo touching! Back then there was a no touching rule." She told me how she grew up dancing. She told me how she really needed to make money because she wanted to finish her education. Which led to - telling me about the first night she danced at the go-go club. She's all, "oooh honey... I got up there and the music started playing and I started dancing - but the regular type of dancing I was used to, ya know? I got so into the music, the next thing I knew my song was over, and I realized I forgot to take off my clothes! The men started yelling 'take of your clothes!!' Then they started throwing money. And honey, I looked at that money and thought, 'ooooh mmmmy!' So I took off my clothes and graaaabbed that money! Then the men started yelling, 'take off your panties!!' And honey, now they started throwin' more money! Sooo.... I took off my panties."
- What. A graphic story full of imagery.
- Keep in mind - all of this was told to me as she had continuous burst of diarrhea in her diaper with me standing next to her bed, reassuring her it was okay and we would have her cleaned up.
Saturday, 15 June 2013
Well. That Unraveled Fast.
Mind blowing. Core rocking. Ball busting. Boob bursting. Fast.
The last update is now a Moo Point. You know, like a cow's opinion. It doesn't matter. It's moo.
[if you actually got that, then you are as thoroughly scripted in Friends episodes as I am, and well, I just love you for that.]
Let me try to recap.
I want you to know - there are A LOT of details I'm leaving out, simply because if I tried to explain or incorporate them into this recap you would just get uber confused and frustrated and probably stop reading because you can't follow anything I'm saying. Do you already feel like that? I do apologize.
This is my life ya'll. Jealous much?
After my breakdown threshold became incrementally lower and lower with each breath-taking-gut-punch that arose every single effing day for the past 10days... I finally FUCK IT! I'm out.
Booked a flight home as soon as Family Med rotation is over - just like the original plan.
Poured myself a Vase of wine (my wine glass - Big Stan) and started packing up the place I have called home since Feb 3rd... A room at the Ramada Inn. (without a kitchen) Aaaaah living the dream.
It is time to take a step back. Relax at The Lake with my family and Biffle. Regain some perspective. Uterus Up (lady version of 'man up'), and keep pressing on because it-is-what-it-is, and deep down I know everything will work out in the end.
Probably.
And if it doesn't - - -
I'll take out an ad in the classifieds section - Looking For Your Trophy Wife? You Just Found Her. Fully Qualified, Class A+ Trophy Wife. (references available upon request).
The last update is now a Moo Point. You know, like a cow's opinion. It doesn't matter. It's moo.
[if you actually got that, then you are as thoroughly scripted in Friends episodes as I am, and well, I just love you for that.]
Let me try to recap.
- I changed focus and decided to pursue 2014 match for residency based upon the urging from the Medical Education clinical coordinator here ---- let us call him Rumpelstiltskin.
- Rumpelstiltskin was all, "yo I will get you a 2 week elective no problem to fit it right after Family Med is done and then right from there you go to Baltimore for Internal Med." Then he was all, "then you put together this scheduling grid for me and I will schedule all your electives back-to-back here". oh and of course get started on all the things you need to do to prepare for Match applications (which was a giant mofo headache)
- I go crazy getting all the shit I need to arrange, organize, complete, and schedule
- I think - oh my gosh this will be hectic right now but oh boy how nice will it to be in one place for all my electives and to have them all set up!
- Fast forward 4 weeks. Get email from Rumpel announcing his official resignation.
- I email the rat-bastard to inquire about the status of my 2 week elective at the end of this month and the lifeline that is the rest of my scheulde
- Rumple is all, "oh ya about that - not going to be able to do that... and ooo yaaaa... wasn't even able to get that 2 week elective for you. I do apologize."
- he does apologize?!?!
- I IMMEDIATELY call Ross Clinical Advising department to schedule something. anything!!
- It is a Wednesday. They don't take calls Wednesdays. But call back Thursday.
- I call back Thursday. They are in meetings all day. But keep trying and you might catch the one who takes certain calls.
- I call about 6 times and finally get through!
- Find out there's like, 2 rotations he could schedule me for. One in November. One in January. cause thaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat helps me. I explain my situation here, and he is all, "oh well Rumple isn't scheduling anymore but his assistant is. And they do their own scheduling so I can't get you in there"
- So I talk to Rumple. He is all, "No sorry still can't help you out. no new process has been put in place yet".
- I reach out to numerous hospitals who also do their own scheduling - they either don't have any elective places left anymore, or they don't take students who did not complete Core rotations with them.
- I call Ross all day long on Friday.... cannot get through except to automated recording that says "you are shit out of luck kiddo. hang up and try again later."
- In the midst of all this....I have a vehicle being shipped across Canada and I'm supposed to pick it up just across the border of Michigan and Canada --- because I will need a car in Baltimore and then was supposed to come back to Michigan for 8 months and need the car.
- I ask 'colleague friend' after 'colleague friend' to drive just over an hour to the border so I can handle this, and then it would be just over an hour back. And do you think any of these assholes would want to help someone out? Of course not. They "are behind on studying". For family medicine shelf. An exam that is meaningless in the end.
- I finally get a friend who doesn't have a car here, but would be willing to drive with me in my rental car and then drive the rental car back for me. This works.
- So we go to the car rental place and get her added to insurance and contract blah blah blah. Car should be ready for pick up by Saturday or Sunday.
- I send email that's all, "where do I go exactly on Sunday" and get reply, "oh yaaaa about that.... trucking company lied and turns out won't be till mid to late next week."
- Additionally, my visa is going to expire before I am done my rotation in Baltimore (and how could you forget what an effing nightmare it was to get the visa in the first place!!!!!!) and I had brought this concern up to Rumple 4 weeks ago
- he was all "your biggest concern is my smallest concern, it will be no problem. I will have you scheduled. You will contact Ross closer to the date. They will contact me and I will have this letter drawn up saying you are scheduled here until such-and-such a date and bam - no problem.
- Now. I have nothing set up. And with my luck as of late... oh my lanta. I'll have immigration cops handcuffing me and detaining me for weeks of interrogation.
I want you to know - there are A LOT of details I'm leaving out, simply because if I tried to explain or incorporate them into this recap you would just get uber confused and frustrated and probably stop reading because you can't follow anything I'm saying. Do you already feel like that? I do apologize.
This is my life ya'll. Jealous much?
After my breakdown threshold became incrementally lower and lower with each breath-taking-gut-punch that arose every single effing day for the past 10days... I finally FUCK IT! I'm out.
Booked a flight home as soon as Family Med rotation is over - just like the original plan.
Poured myself a Vase of wine (my wine glass - Big Stan) and started packing up the place I have called home since Feb 3rd... A room at the Ramada Inn. (without a kitchen) Aaaaah living the dream.
 | |
| Oh Big Stan never leave me. |
It is time to take a step back. Relax at The Lake with my family and Biffle. Regain some perspective. Uterus Up (lady version of 'man up'), and keep pressing on because it-is-what-it-is, and deep down I know everything will work out in the end.
Probably.
And if it doesn't - - -
I'll take out an ad in the classifieds section - Looking For Your Trophy Wife? You Just Found Her. Fully Qualified, Class A+ Trophy Wife. (references available upon request).
Monday, 3 June 2013
If You Need Something Done, Give It To Someone Who Is Busy.
Just kidding
Don't.
Actually you can, and I will probably process it so fast I will barely realize I even did it. Probably.
Or I could crumble under the weight of all the added pressures and reach my psychotic break and see you all during your visits to my 'extended stay Inn".
It could really go either way.
So thank God Ob/Gyn is over right? Step into Family Med rotation where life is simple, sweet, and vacation-like!
For a normal functioning human being.
Which, I feel we have firmly established, I am not.
On the first day of FM rotation, I went in before orientation to have a meeting with the Medical Education student coordinator. I just wanted to talk with him and get a few ideas since I felt a little overwhelmed with booking electives coming up, and overall about the roads I am going down...
I came out of the meeting with the decision that I will give up my 2 week break this summer to fill with an elective, and then push straight through for the next year with everything booked back-to-back so that I can match for 2014 residency instead of 2015.
So of course this meant that I had months of prep work to catch up on in a matter of a couple weeks. Essentially since that meeting I really really feel like I haven't stopped.
I am currently in the process of juggling 3 elective applications to Canadian schools, 3 applications to my school to even do those Canadian electives, preparing for American residency match applications, preparing for Canadian residency applications, studying for USMLE step 2 CK, CS, MCCEE, NAC (a lot of letter which mean 4 board exams) all which need to be taken before October (keep in my my original plan was to calmly approach these exams come November), find housing in Baltimore, figure out more long-term car situation, all while working full-time hours in family med, and.... eugh. I'm actually forgetting about 50 different little things intertwined within all of this... but anyway...
what was I saying?
I don't know.
As soon as I am done with the above list... I will be working on my retirement plan.
Don't.
Actually you can, and I will probably process it so fast I will barely realize I even did it. Probably.
Or I could crumble under the weight of all the added pressures and reach my psychotic break and see you all during your visits to my 'extended stay Inn".
It could really go either way.
So thank God Ob/Gyn is over right? Step into Family Med rotation where life is simple, sweet, and vacation-like!
For a normal functioning human being.
Which, I feel we have firmly established, I am not.
On the first day of FM rotation, I went in before orientation to have a meeting with the Medical Education student coordinator. I just wanted to talk with him and get a few ideas since I felt a little overwhelmed with booking electives coming up, and overall about the roads I am going down...
I came out of the meeting with the decision that I will give up my 2 week break this summer to fill with an elective, and then push straight through for the next year with everything booked back-to-back so that I can match for 2014 residency instead of 2015.
So of course this meant that I had months of prep work to catch up on in a matter of a couple weeks. Essentially since that meeting I really really feel like I haven't stopped.
I am currently in the process of juggling 3 elective applications to Canadian schools, 3 applications to my school to even do those Canadian electives, preparing for American residency match applications, preparing for Canadian residency applications, studying for USMLE step 2 CK, CS, MCCEE, NAC (a lot of letter which mean 4 board exams) all which need to be taken before October (keep in my my original plan was to calmly approach these exams come November), find housing in Baltimore, figure out more long-term car situation, all while working full-time hours in family med, and.... eugh. I'm actually forgetting about 50 different little things intertwined within all of this... but anyway...
what was I saying?
I don't know.
As soon as I am done with the above list... I will be working on my retirement plan.
Sunday, 5 May 2013
Really Random.
... Because I woke up at 3-freaking-AM because I've been nocturnal for a week.
A week on night float for Ob-Gyn rotation.
Turns out it is even more mind-blowingly-terrible than days on ob-gyn. Perhaps because the assholes who run this hell-hole-rotation somehow think it is appropriate to let students leave at 5pm during the day (making it approximately an 11hr day), yet on nights you are there from 6pm until morning rounds are over... and it goes like this... start at 7am and *could* end by 730-745am, but residents are a special breed of evil who don't give a flying-shit about students, thus, even if they are done with report they will continue sitting at the table (while students sit up against the wall because we can't sit at the big kid table) gossiping about patients or debating some ridiculous 'guideline' and going in circles about it. During all of which students sit there awkwardly in silence, because obviously we can't interject into the 'conversation' nor can we get up and leave without properly being 'dismissed'. Then, on top of that if there is a lecture that starts at 8am, night students are required to stay. So that puts you to 9am.
Eugh. Whatever. I'm tired even just typing about it now.
I'm done night float for ob-gyn. That's all that matters. I guess you could say I survived. But that really depends on your definition of 'survival'.
Ever wonder about what else happens when women push so hard to get a baby out of their vaginas?
They poop.
It really is true. Sure - not every woman. But yes. I've seen it. And smelled it (is 'smelled' a real word? smelled? smelt? smelled? whatever. I really don't care). It's not so much the smell of amniotic fluid and placenta that makes me have a minor gag, it's really the adult poop so close to my face. I guess poop is poop, but still, that part of it really did not make the highlight reel of this rotation.
Things that did become a highlight include:
- this itty bitty 24yo who initially was really struggling through the pain, yet did not want an epidural. However after a couple hours of writhing pain she accepted the God given gift of anesthetic in the epidural space. She was then able to relax and rest. After giving her an hour nap, I go in with the resident to check on her. She is all smiles. "how are you feeling?' "great!" "do you feel any of the contractions?" "Nope. Not really. I'm just comfortable." "okay great. well we will just check you and see if you have made some progress." Resident checks her cervix and quickly looks up at me with wide eyes and is all "get the table and glove up. The baby's head is almost out". We crazy-quick get everything set up, break down the bed, get this girl repositioned, and I look down and baby's head is literally a cm from crowning. I look up at her and she is just straight up chillin', and texting. We are like - okay put down the phone and how about you give a little push. She gives a little "mmm" wimpy push... baby's head crowns. Okay another push. "mm". Head out. One more. "mm'. Shoulders out. Body out. Welcome to the world kid.
- scrubbed into my first c-section, the attending puts the scalpel in my hand and is all "feel comfortable?" me - eyes wide with excitement - "yes sir!" There's just something about making a sweetly smooth cut through flesh that really makes me come alive. you know?
- a patient with chronic hypertension with super-imposed severe preeclampsia and a severe intra-uterine growth restricted baby in the less-than-3rd percentile. This woman was 28 weeks along, but because of the chronic growth restriction, the baby had not grown at all in the past 4 weeks - putting it at the development of a 24weeker. Due the the severity of her preeclampsia, a code 30 (30mins from decision to incision) was initiated. I was scubbed into this c-section and seeing something so tiny come out of something so large what truly astonishing. I couldn't help but look over at the awaiting NICU team as they immediately intubated this little life that came out weighing 1pound 11ounces. Their precision and skill is not something to underestimate.
- and of course suturing up abdominal fascia layers still makes the highlight reel at this point in my life.
I don't really have anything left to say at this moment. I'm a little confused as the the day and time and what I'm doing with my life.
So, in summation.
I'm counting down the days left in Ob-Gyn and I will get through it. And never look back. I will smile and be professional until 12pm friday afternoon, which is when I put the pencil down after the shelf exam, then I will walk away and sing Sara Bareilles' song "Sweet as Whole" at the top of my lungs over-and-over-and-over-and-over until I feel recovered from this living nightmare.
But that only happens when I get provoked
By some piece of shit asshole we all sadly know
And I sit and I write while reminding you all
That mean songs are still better than going postal
And that guy's an asshole
That girl's a bitch
Baby it's natural
No gettin' away from it
So sing it out with me
And then let it go
Fuck that guy he's just an asshole
Oh-asshole
Asshole
Asshole
I see I've surprised you with some of my words
And I know that surprises, while fun, still can hurt
And I hate to think that I ruined the day
Of the dick and the queen of the high horse parade
But I'm sick and tired of your poisonous ways
Your toxin wasting perfectly good space
And I say what I think
'Cause it's more economic than drugs or a drink
That guy's an asshole
That girl's a bitch
Baby it's natural
No gettin' away from it
So sing it out with me
And then let it go
Fuck that guy he's just an asshole
And I won't let him in
Under my skin
You're a sad sack of shit
That's pathetic
Just a festering sore
Who will never be more than that
If I don't let it
And that guy's an asshole
That girl's a bitch
Baby it's natural
No gettin' away from it
So sing it out with me
And then let it go
Fuck that guy he's just an asshole
If you were to ask me how 'things are going'
How I feel about finishing this rotation
How's Ob-Gyn!? you ask.
I miss psych
As if waking up at 3am is not cruel enough in-and-of-itself...
Ramada has thin walls.
Over the sound of the show I was watching in bed I can hear something... I'm all 'what's that!?!' So I turn down the volume on my computer. Hear nothing. Okay I'm just hearing things now, awesome. Turn volume back up. Hear it again - like a gasping sound followed by a type of scream. I'm all, 'oh my gosh is someone getting attacked outside!? Could I be hearing the sounds of a notorious crime in this town!?"
Suddenly that gasp morphs into a moan.
Followed by more shouts.
But I quickly realize the screams of "YES! YES! YES!" are not that of a crime of attack, but that of my neighbors having very loud sex.
I turn up the volume on my computer to full. I cover my ears.
More than a little over-the-top moans continue while my ears and soul bleed.
"OH BABY! YES!"
I'm all ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME!?!?! WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME!?! WWWWWWHY!!!!
I guess a crime really was committed in the wee hours of the morning today. A crime against me.
A crime against my ears. A crime against my already wounded soul.
I shall be taking an extra, extra amount of melatonin tonight.
A week on night float for Ob-Gyn rotation.
Turns out it is even more mind-blowingly-terrible than days on ob-gyn. Perhaps because the assholes who run this hell-hole-rotation somehow think it is appropriate to let students leave at 5pm during the day (making it approximately an 11hr day), yet on nights you are there from 6pm until morning rounds are over... and it goes like this... start at 7am and *could* end by 730-745am, but residents are a special breed of evil who don't give a flying-shit about students, thus, even if they are done with report they will continue sitting at the table (while students sit up against the wall because we can't sit at the big kid table) gossiping about patients or debating some ridiculous 'guideline' and going in circles about it. During all of which students sit there awkwardly in silence, because obviously we can't interject into the 'conversation' nor can we get up and leave without properly being 'dismissed'. Then, on top of that if there is a lecture that starts at 8am, night students are required to stay. So that puts you to 9am.
Eugh. Whatever. I'm tired even just typing about it now.
I'm done night float for ob-gyn. That's all that matters. I guess you could say I survived. But that really depends on your definition of 'survival'.
Ever wonder about what else happens when women push so hard to get a baby out of their vaginas?
They poop.
It really is true. Sure - not every woman. But yes. I've seen it. And smelled it (is 'smelled' a real word? smelled? smelt? smelled? whatever. I really don't care). It's not so much the smell of amniotic fluid and placenta that makes me have a minor gag, it's really the adult poop so close to my face. I guess poop is poop, but still, that part of it really did not make the highlight reel of this rotation.
Things that did become a highlight include:
- this itty bitty 24yo who initially was really struggling through the pain, yet did not want an epidural. However after a couple hours of writhing pain she accepted the God given gift of anesthetic in the epidural space. She was then able to relax and rest. After giving her an hour nap, I go in with the resident to check on her. She is all smiles. "how are you feeling?' "great!" "do you feel any of the contractions?" "Nope. Not really. I'm just comfortable." "okay great. well we will just check you and see if you have made some progress." Resident checks her cervix and quickly looks up at me with wide eyes and is all "get the table and glove up. The baby's head is almost out". We crazy-quick get everything set up, break down the bed, get this girl repositioned, and I look down and baby's head is literally a cm from crowning. I look up at her and she is just straight up chillin', and texting. We are like - okay put down the phone and how about you give a little push. She gives a little "mmm" wimpy push... baby's head crowns. Okay another push. "mm". Head out. One more. "mm'. Shoulders out. Body out. Welcome to the world kid.
- scrubbed into my first c-section, the attending puts the scalpel in my hand and is all "feel comfortable?" me - eyes wide with excitement - "yes sir!" There's just something about making a sweetly smooth cut through flesh that really makes me come alive. you know?
- a patient with chronic hypertension with super-imposed severe preeclampsia and a severe intra-uterine growth restricted baby in the less-than-3rd percentile. This woman was 28 weeks along, but because of the chronic growth restriction, the baby had not grown at all in the past 4 weeks - putting it at the development of a 24weeker. Due the the severity of her preeclampsia, a code 30 (30mins from decision to incision) was initiated. I was scubbed into this c-section and seeing something so tiny come out of something so large what truly astonishing. I couldn't help but look over at the awaiting NICU team as they immediately intubated this little life that came out weighing 1pound 11ounces. Their precision and skill is not something to underestimate.
- and of course suturing up abdominal fascia layers still makes the highlight reel at this point in my life.
I don't really have anything left to say at this moment. I'm a little confused as the the day and time and what I'm doing with my life.
So, in summation.
I'm counting down the days left in Ob-Gyn and I will get through it. And never look back. I will smile and be professional until 12pm friday afternoon, which is when I put the pencil down after the shelf exam, then I will walk away and sing Sara Bareilles' song "Sweet as Whole" at the top of my lungs over-and-over-and-over-and-over until I feel recovered from this living nightmare.
Sometimes I can be perfectly sweet
Got this sugary me stuffed in my sleeve
And I talk of ponies and rainbows and things
And I'm just who you want me to be
Got this sugary me stuffed in my sleeve
And I talk of ponies and rainbows and things
And I'm just who you want me to be
But like most creatures down here on the ground
I'm composed of the elements moving around
And I grow and change and I shift and I switch
And it turns out I'm actually kind of a bitch
I'm composed of the elements moving around
And I grow and change and I shift and I switch
And it turns out I'm actually kind of a bitch
But that only happens when I get provoked
By some piece of shit asshole we all sadly know
And I sit and I write while reminding you all
That mean songs are still better than going postal
And that guy's an asshole
That girl's a bitch
Baby it's natural
No gettin' away from it
So sing it out with me
And then let it go
Fuck that guy he's just an asshole
Oh-asshole
Asshole
Asshole
I see I've surprised you with some of my words
And I know that surprises, while fun, still can hurt
And I hate to think that I ruined the day
Of the dick and the queen of the high horse parade
But I'm sick and tired of your poisonous ways
Your toxin wasting perfectly good space
And I say what I think
'Cause it's more economic than drugs or a drink
That guy's an asshole
That girl's a bitch
Baby it's natural
No gettin' away from it
So sing it out with me
And then let it go
Fuck that guy he's just an asshole
And I won't let him in
Under my skin
You're a sad sack of shit
That's pathetic
Just a festering sore
Who will never be more than that
If I don't let it
And that guy's an asshole
That girl's a bitch
Baby it's natural
No gettin' away from it
So sing it out with me
And then let it go
Fuck that guy he's just an asshole
So sing it out with me.
If you were to ask me how 'things are going'
How I feel about finishing this rotation
How's Ob-Gyn!? you ask.
I miss psych
As if waking up at 3am is not cruel enough in-and-of-itself...
Ramada has thin walls.
Over the sound of the show I was watching in bed I can hear something... I'm all 'what's that!?!' So I turn down the volume on my computer. Hear nothing. Okay I'm just hearing things now, awesome. Turn volume back up. Hear it again - like a gasping sound followed by a type of scream. I'm all, 'oh my gosh is someone getting attacked outside!? Could I be hearing the sounds of a notorious crime in this town!?"
Suddenly that gasp morphs into a moan.
Followed by more shouts.
But I quickly realize the screams of "YES! YES! YES!" are not that of a crime of attack, but that of my neighbors having very loud sex.
I turn up the volume on my computer to full. I cover my ears.
More than a little over-the-top moans continue while my ears and soul bleed.
"OH BABY! YES!"
I'm all ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME!?!?! WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME!?! WWWWWWHY!!!!
I guess a crime really was committed in the wee hours of the morning today. A crime against me.
A crime against my ears. A crime against my already wounded soul.
I shall be taking an extra, extra amount of melatonin tonight.
Thursday, 25 April 2013
Re: I'm A Teary Toad
I came across this gem and I really feel like it embodies all I was trying to convey in my post about my new found crying episodes.
Wednesday, 24 April 2013
Breaking News Of The Day. I Don't Have Kids.
So I'm with one of my laboring patients today - a lovely, and very chatty, 23 year old girl about to have her 3rd kid. She has her sister, mother, baby-daddy, and babby-daddy's great grandma all in the room. A loud bunch. But an entertaining bunch. They are collectively trying to decide on a first-name for this baby-girl about to enter the world (coming up with some crap-stack-terrible-ideas for names), and then turn to me and say - I like YOUR name! I'm all, well thanks! I think it's a pretty good name!
Then sister asks me - you have any kids???
me - nope
patient - what!? really? how old are you!?
me - 25
patient/sister in unison - whaaaaat you 25 and you aint got kids?
me - nope
baby daddy (shocked) - whaaaat!? dat crazy! when you gonna have dem kids?
me - not for a looooong time (ie never)
baby daddy - you don't wanna be dat old 41year old picken' yo' kid up from kindergarten!
me - that's definitely not the dream. nope.
What a treat - to evoke such a reaction of shock and wonderment out of a group of people of my being 25 years old and nulliparous.
Then sister asks me - you have any kids???
me - nope
patient - what!? really? how old are you!?
me - 25
patient/sister in unison - whaaaaat you 25 and you aint got kids?
me - nope
baby daddy (shocked) - whaaaat!? dat crazy! when you gonna have dem kids?
me - not for a looooong time (ie never)
baby daddy - you don't wanna be dat old 41year old picken' yo' kid up from kindergarten!
me - that's definitely not the dream. nope.
What a treat - to evoke such a reaction of shock and wonderment out of a group of people of my being 25 years old and nulliparous.
Tuesday, 23 April 2013
Turns Out I'm A Big Crybaby
What.... a turn of the lazy-susan.
After years and years and years of being an lacrimal-duct-challenged robot, I have evidently turned into a bottomless pit of raging tears. Okay, well not so much raging tears per say. Raging rage with the presence of tears is a more accurate description. But whatever. Point being - I'm a teary faced little toad.
Do you want to know what really threw a lit-match onto this fuel-soaked-pile-of-suppressed-shit?
Being awake for 29hrs straight then getting home into bed and watching the saddest episode of Army Wives -- that's what. (side note: yes. I am completely, 100% emotionally, committed to Army Wives. A show with a fan base consisting of menopausal house-wives and me. I'm not ashamed to admit this.)
Me, post call. Probably the ugliest side of me. I get all curled up in bed, resume watching an episode, and one of my favorite characters dies!!! *Normal* me would be all, 'aw that's to bad'. *Post-call* me was freaking hysterical. Face half covered with blankets as I sob! You know what I mean? The 'ugly-cry'. Through broken heaves and sobs I'm crying out in a deep manly voice - NOOOOOHOHOHO!! WWWWWWHY!?!? NOoooohohoNoo! Wwwwhy!! Not. *choke on tears* Jer-e-my *choke on tears* My eyes quickly became swollen from the fast escape of tears, which is when I finally had some voice of reason say "what is happening to you right now!? stop this! sleep!"
So I listened. I passed out instantly. Woke up 6hrs later - it was 3pm. I got up to eat, and resumed watching more of the episode. Started bawling again. Turned it off at 5pm. Then woke up next to my alarm at 5am to go back to work. That's right. Do the math - I slept 18hrs.
One would think this amount of sleep would cure any illogical, unreasonably excessive emotion.
One would think.
However, add a dash of effed-up hormones to the mix and a dollop or heap of misery while in Ob-Gyn rotation...
You get me.
An unpredictable basket-case.
...Doing more than just dipping my toes into the sea-of-mental-break-down.
After years and years and years of being an lacrimal-duct-challenged robot, I have evidently turned into a bottomless pit of raging tears. Okay, well not so much raging tears per say. Raging rage with the presence of tears is a more accurate description. But whatever. Point being - I'm a teary faced little toad.
Do you want to know what really threw a lit-match onto this fuel-soaked-pile-of-suppressed-shit?
Being awake for 29hrs straight then getting home into bed and watching the saddest episode of Army Wives -- that's what. (side note: yes. I am completely, 100% emotionally, committed to Army Wives. A show with a fan base consisting of menopausal house-wives and me. I'm not ashamed to admit this.)
Me, post call. Probably the ugliest side of me. I get all curled up in bed, resume watching an episode, and one of my favorite characters dies!!! *Normal* me would be all, 'aw that's to bad'. *Post-call* me was freaking hysterical. Face half covered with blankets as I sob! You know what I mean? The 'ugly-cry'. Through broken heaves and sobs I'm crying out in a deep manly voice - NOOOOOHOHOHO!! WWWWWWHY!?!? NOoooohohoNoo! Wwwwhy!! Not. *choke on tears* Jer-e-my *choke on tears* My eyes quickly became swollen from the fast escape of tears, which is when I finally had some voice of reason say "what is happening to you right now!? stop this! sleep!"
So I listened. I passed out instantly. Woke up 6hrs later - it was 3pm. I got up to eat, and resumed watching more of the episode. Started bawling again. Turned it off at 5pm. Then woke up next to my alarm at 5am to go back to work. That's right. Do the math - I slept 18hrs.
One would think this amount of sleep would cure any illogical, unreasonably excessive emotion.
One would think.
However, add a dash of effed-up hormones to the mix and a dollop or heap of misery while in Ob-Gyn rotation...
You get me.
An unpredictable basket-case.
...Doing more than just dipping my toes into the sea-of-mental-break-down.
Monday, 22 April 2013
My Mother Is Cray Cray Awesome
After hearing their daughter vent about how some bitchy OR nurse ruined
their already crap-filled day... *some* mothers may say things such as,
'oh sweetie - that doesn't sound pleasant, but maybe you have to think
about your own attitude toward things like these as well." or "oh honey -you can't let those little things bother you".
Instead my mother sends me the following to keep me laughing and lift my spirits all day long. What. a great lady.
The woman knows me well.
And this pretty much sums up my life right now.
http://whatshouldwecallmedschool.tumblr.com/post/48282906110/every-day-since-the-start-of-medschool
Instead my mother sends me the following to keep me laughing and lift my spirits all day long. What. a great lady.
The woman knows me well.
And this pretty much sums up my life right now.
http://whatshouldwecallmedschool.tumblr.com/post/48282906110/every-day-since-the-start-of-medschool
Thursday, 11 April 2013
I May Need An Intervention Soon.
Okay. I know. I totally went overboard on the last post...
The general feedback from the last post was more along the line of pure disgust, to which, at first I was all “what are you talking about – it wasn’t that bad”. Then I realized the line of ‘disgusting’ has been crossed so far that the line is now a dot to me, and sometimes my social graces forget that not everyone tolerates such mental imagery like some of us sick-folk.
I actually don't have anything to say right now... I just want to write to tell you that I am well aware of the fact that I have totally fallen off the deep end. And I mean deep deep deep end. I have so many stories that come to mind when I'm driving, or falling asleep, then I get busy or forget or get complete mental block and can't summon the energy to write it out.
Then I feel like I get too far behind and start forgetting particular highlight-worthy moments! This is where you can come in... did I have a great conversation with you over text during a particular ridiculous med school/life moment that you can remember!? Send ME a message and relay it back to me!! I need to be reminded!
I was just looking at some of the earlier times I wrote on here and was shocked! Firstly, by the fact that I started this in 2011 and we are already well into 2013. Shit.
Secondly, at how many times I posted in a friggin month back then!! What the hell happened you guys!? Now it's like 4 months in between stupid stories. My first thought was, 'wow girl! you were so diligent and really on top of your shit with balancing school and blog crap!'. This was quickly followed by, 'wow girl. you really had no friends. you really didn't get out much. you really had no outlet source whatsoever. I'm surprised you didn't write more! sad sad little girl'.
Actually I know what happened... I got back to North America and got a phone where you are now at my fingertips! And facetime. and skype. Thanks a lot imessage. you totally screwed my goal of medschool documentation.
Reality: I still don't have many friends in school. I still don't get out much. I should be writing more. but alas. I suck right now.
Eugh. Seriously I'm so pathetic right now. I finished pediatrics, and I can confidently say - I will not be a pediatrician. Now I'm in ob/gyn. Finished week 2/6. Aaaaaaand already I can strongly say - I will not be an obstetrician or gynecologist. Eugh. Not. For. Me. No. Nono. No no no no. No.
On a different note. I totes wanted to bitch slap an OR nurse today. I also had the pleasure of dealing with a twat-faced bitch of an attending. She's the kind that hates students (I'm sorry I wasn't aware there was a school you could go to where you went straight into being an effing attending!); doesn't want you to scrub in on cases so you are stuck standing in a corner with the trash and can't see for shit; doesn't acknowledge your existence as a human-friggin-being (I shit you not. Today she did the hand gesture to say "I need a pen stat", so as I was right beside her and had my pen handy, I pull it out of my pocket and hold it out for her... the bitch doesn't take my pen. Just stands there, looking through me as I stand with my pathetic pen-in-hand floating in the air, and waits for the resident to go across the room to get his pen.)
Some of my favorite ecards came to mind - particularly today - as I was hidden behind my surgical gown and mask...
To the OR nurse today.
To majority of my classmates
and a very important prayer to me
Okay seriously you guys (you know who you are!!), send me a message telling me YOUR favourite story I have shared with you so far!! Help a pathetic girl out!
The general feedback from the last post was more along the line of pure disgust, to which, at first I was all “what are you talking about – it wasn’t that bad”. Then I realized the line of ‘disgusting’ has been crossed so far that the line is now a dot to me, and sometimes my social graces forget that not everyone tolerates such mental imagery like some of us sick-folk.
I actually don't have anything to say right now... I just want to write to tell you that I am well aware of the fact that I have totally fallen off the deep end. And I mean deep deep deep end. I have so many stories that come to mind when I'm driving, or falling asleep, then I get busy or forget or get complete mental block and can't summon the energy to write it out.
Then I feel like I get too far behind and start forgetting particular highlight-worthy moments! This is where you can come in... did I have a great conversation with you over text during a particular ridiculous med school/life moment that you can remember!? Send ME a message and relay it back to me!! I need to be reminded!
I was just looking at some of the earlier times I wrote on here and was shocked! Firstly, by the fact that I started this in 2011 and we are already well into 2013. Shit.
Secondly, at how many times I posted in a friggin month back then!! What the hell happened you guys!? Now it's like 4 months in between stupid stories. My first thought was, 'wow girl! you were so diligent and really on top of your shit with balancing school and blog crap!'. This was quickly followed by, 'wow girl. you really had no friends. you really didn't get out much. you really had no outlet source whatsoever. I'm surprised you didn't write more! sad sad little girl'.
Actually I know what happened... I got back to North America and got a phone where you are now at my fingertips! And facetime. and skype. Thanks a lot imessage. you totally screwed my goal of medschool documentation.
Reality: I still don't have many friends in school. I still don't get out much. I should be writing more. but alas. I suck right now.
Eugh. Seriously I'm so pathetic right now. I finished pediatrics, and I can confidently say - I will not be a pediatrician. Now I'm in ob/gyn. Finished week 2/6. Aaaaaaand already I can strongly say - I will not be an obstetrician or gynecologist. Eugh. Not. For. Me. No. Nono. No no no no. No.
On a different note. I totes wanted to bitch slap an OR nurse today. I also had the pleasure of dealing with a twat-faced bitch of an attending. She's the kind that hates students (I'm sorry I wasn't aware there was a school you could go to where you went straight into being an effing attending!); doesn't want you to scrub in on cases so you are stuck standing in a corner with the trash and can't see for shit; doesn't acknowledge your existence as a human-friggin-being (I shit you not. Today she did the hand gesture to say "I need a pen stat", so as I was right beside her and had my pen handy, I pull it out of my pocket and hold it out for her... the bitch doesn't take my pen. Just stands there, looking through me as I stand with my pathetic pen-in-hand floating in the air, and waits for the resident to go across the room to get his pen.)
Some of my favorite ecards came to mind - particularly today - as I was hidden behind my surgical gown and mask...
To the OR nurse today.
To majority of my classmates
and a very important prayer to me
Okay seriously you guys (you know who you are!!), send me a message telling me YOUR favourite story I have shared with you so far!! Help a pathetic girl out!
Wednesday, 20 February 2013
Surgery In A Nut-Sack-Shell
-->
The world of surgery was a whirlwind of awesome and
shit. Sometimes it was pure awesome.
Sometimes it was pure shit. Sometimes it
was awesome shit.
I would leave my apartment at 4:00am, walk 5 blocks to the
subway, arrive at 5:15am, and walk 8mins to the hospital. We had lecture at 5:30am given by the
Godfather of surgery – sure, he was partially deaf, had an 87-year-old-man limp
in his gait, and yelled at the group for being dumbasses from time-to-time, but
damn…he was sharp. Beyond
brilliant.
630am morning rounds would begin with all the students (I
think there were around 20 of us), interns, and residents. For an hour-and-a-half, the huge effing flock
of us would go floor to floor, room-to-room, discussing the management of every
patient surgery had. Students had the
additional job of being in charge of wound changes on patients, and it is this
wound-change duty where I had my first taste of the surgery rotation. Day 1. 6:31am. First patient room in the CCU. Fornier Gangrene – which is a fancy way of
saying: flesh-eating disease of the perineum (the area between ones’ legs). Are
you reading this and crossing your legs in protection of your perineum? You should be.
There is no way to describe the smell of this kind of
wound. It overwhelms you as you walk
into the room. Keep in mind I literally
have no clue what I’m doing and really have not seen any “true wounds” in my
life. So I follow into the room and take
notice of what the interns and residents are doing and just blindly do as they
do. Gown up. Gloves on. Grab onto
patient’s hips and start rolling him.
‘oh my gosh. We are rolling him over. What the hell is going on here!?! Holy
sweet baby Jesus what is that smell!!?! Oh Lord. Oh no. WHAT THE FRACK STACK!
This man has no flesh on his ass left! Welp. His inner thighs are gone
too. Oh wow. That’s an edematous scrotum there.’
My approximate inner thought process as I am half draped
over this man’s hips, holding them up as the rest of the team pulls out all the
packing material and bandages from this man’s ass/perineum. An added treat to this flesh eating disease’s
ravenous appetite is the fact that essentially all the tissue surrounding the
rectum has been debrided away – so it’s like a dangling rectum now – and
there’s no bowel control in the slightest.
In simple terms, every morning we had to partake in this huge process
there was always a pile of diarrhea.
Whaaaaat. A great way to start the day.
Not only will I never forget this man for the sheer fact of
the extent of/location of his gangrene, but he also was the first case I
scrubbed in for in surgery. He came in a
few days before I started with a few odd looking spots on his scrotum… this
RAPIDLY turned into a surgical emergency of necrotizing fasciitis. He was taken
into the OR for debridement, after which he was at risk for renal failure due
to so much muscle tissue necrosis. He
was on his way for dialysis when he coded for 45mins. Now he is ‘alive’ but with ‘minimal brain
activity’. His family refused to look at
his wound, and refused to let go. At the
end of my first week in surgery, I went into the OR for this man’s: suprapubic
catheter (pee out the belly into a bag), colostomy (poop out the belly into a
bag), and more debridement.
The debridement part:
·
Legs in stirrups. In lithotomy position.
·
Bed raised as high as it can possibly go
·
Legs raised as high as they will go
·
It’s just me and the chief resident up close and
personal. Chief resident pulls out the
rectal tube previously inserted and we both jump back as liquid shit sprays –
super soaker style.
·
As chief resident cuts away more and more and
more necrotic tissue I have to stand beside him, cupping this patients freely
exposed testicles. That’s right.
There was literally no scrotum left. It was a tragic case of not-so-eazy-breezy-city.
And that about sums up the first surgical case I ever
scrubbed in on.
I have a few more stories left to tell.
If I happened to tell one to you in the moment back when it happened and you found it particularly entertaining or fascinating. Or just ridiculous. Email me and remind me of it!
If I happened to tell one to you in the moment back when it happened and you found it particularly entertaining or fascinating. Or just ridiculous. Email me and remind me of it!
Miss you all! More than you know!
xoxo
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