In the details

My house is a total mess. I have been painting in an effort to make this place into a girl house, a princess palace, if you will. My office is now coral. It looked like it was going to be orange, which really freaked me out. I hate orange. I never wear it, and I certainly don't want to study in the middle of something orange. My living room and dining room are "toasted wheat," which is a color that looks like coffee with to much cream in it. I have a little area in the front of my house with lots of windows and skylights. This area is now "embellished blue" which is really a fancy way to say robin's egg blue. I almost died while painting this part. In fact, there's a whole rollerful of paint on one of the windows from a near death experience. All in all, I'm very happy with the way it turned out. I hope my landlord doesn't have a heart attack when he sees it. However, if he does, I have been trained in advanced cardiac life support. I could totally save his ass.

This brings me to the next chapter in the doings of Sara Jane. I am in orientation for residency. I have had BLS, ACLS, and I have ATLS tomorrow and Friday. On Saturday, I have my first day as a doctor. I'm on the trauma service. I'm also on call that night. I feel like they're going to dump blood on me in the trauma bay, much in the manner of Carrie at her prom. It freaks me out. Fortunately, the more senior residents I'm on with are good guys. I feel okay about asking them questions. I have also taken a few minutes to prepare myself for the night. Have I read about trauma protocols, you ask? Not too much. I did, however, attempt to bribe the Lifeflight people to fly their hellicoptors to the other Level 1 trauma centers in town. They said they would see what they could do. They will probably be using the radio to call the hospital to ask for me specifically. I will be busy having explosive diarrhea.

I'm on call 6 times this month, and I think 4 of those nights are weekends. I don't really care about missing the weekend. This is surgery residency, not summer camp. The thing that bothers me is that it's July, which is trauma season. (It's no fun to shoot someone when it's cold outside.) I guess this means I'll get a chance to say, "I'm going to put my finger in your bottom, sir!" a lot of times. Pray for me and my poor patients.

The tunes for the day are "Change Clothes" by Jay-Z, and "I'm in Love with a Stripper" by Project Pat. Special thanks to Missy for getting the latter stuck in my head. I had to buy it from i-tunes to self-medicate. 10:42 PM

I'm on vacation, so that means it's time for me to get sick. It always goes this way. I bust my ass, try to keep my head above water. As soon as I get a few minutes to breathe, I have some sort of virus that I just have to ride out. It is always a virus, too. It would be too easy if I could treat it with antibiotics. This time, all of the running around was more about partying than work, since graduation was on the 2nd of June. I stayed up too late, ate totally nutrient poor food, and drank too much a couple of times. (physician, heal thyself) This time, I have blisters all over my tonsils, and tiny blisters on the palms of my hands. Anyone want to take a guess at the diagnosis? I'll just tell you. It's hand-foot-mouth disease. This is a viral illness, most often caused by cocksackie B virus. It is most common in children, particularly those that are in daycare. (Insert snide comment about my friends and me here.) Treatment in mild cases is symtomatic. I took a drink of orange juice today and it brought tears to my eyes. I have a fever of 102, and body aches like crazy. Do you know what else brings tears to my eyes? The thought of starting residency while I feel like this. I guess instead of painting my house and finishing my unpacking, I'll be lying in bed, sleeping.

Time for 400 mgs of ibuprofen and a swish of viscous lidocaine.

Balls. 5:55 PM


9:05 PM


4:46 PM