My Thoughtful Spot

whaaa???

Last Sunday I went to a friend's house for dinner. We were interns together, but since he took a year off to do research (and help his wife take care of their baby) he is in his last year now. He gave me his thoughts on chief year so far and I told him what it was like trying to break into the world of grown ups.

We were sitting outside in the warm summer evening just chatting, when we hear the doorbell ring. I looked at them inquisitively, but they told me their au pair would answer the door, so we kept talking. I was half listening to what was going on in the living room through the open screen door and I heard the man at the front door say my friend's name repeatedly.

First, his wife gets up to see what is going on. Then she calls him to the door. At this point, I'm dying of curiosity, and start to clean up plates and take them into the kitchen. The kitchen is closer to the front door and offers a better opportunity to catch more of the conversation. I didn't hear much, so I went back to the patio.

They finish at the door and come back outside. Turns out the man had found my friend's wallet, which he lost the previous day. The man said he would have returned it earlier, but he had to work all night and then pick up his daughter from somewhere remote. All the money he had was still there and my friend gave it to him for his troubles and as a thank you for returning it.

There really are good people in this world. Maybe more than a handful...

the L

When I was in Chicago last week, I had occasion to ride the L, which is Chicago's version of a subway system. It's called that, I think, because at some points the cars are "el"evated above the streets. Of course, they also go underground, but it's their train; they can call it whatever they want.

My last experience on public transportation was five years ago in Boston's T (T for train). When we first moved to the area, we lived in Sommerville and I worked at the airport. Even with a bus ride and two train changes, taking public transportation was much easier. I quickly got used to weird people and took for granted the street... er... subway musicians. A few years later, we moved out to West Newton and I took the train less. If I did have to go into the city, I would drive or take the commuter rail.

I've never lived long enough in New York to even begin to understand the complexities of their subway system. I've heard horror stories about certain trains not working on the weekends, trains never coming, and people getting completely lost in that underground maze. There are even rumors of people and alligators living under there!

So when I was faced with riding a new public transportation system, I was, I'm not ashamed to say, a bit apprehensive. Chicago's map was much bigger than Boston's. But was it as big as New York's? California is known for it's lack of public transportation and I was quite out of my element.

I decided to brave it anyway. I walk up to the entrance gates and don't see a thing to dispense L tokens. Ok, they're on a card. I can feed two dollars into a machine. It's like a copy card at the library. (I just compared riding the L to the library. Nerd!) I went to the gate, thank goodness there was no one behind me, and tried in vain to get it to read my card. After about 10 seconds which seemed like an eternity, a nice L employee walked over and wordlessly adjusted my card and shoved it into the slot. A sign that read "Tourist" and was attached to my back would have completed my outfit nicely. I uttered an embarrassed "thanks" and went up to the platform.

When the train that was heading my way approached, I boarded and was immediately transported back to Boston. The interior design was like the Red line that goes through Harvard Square. We passed station after station as I headed toward the city. Then I began to wonder things I hadn't when I rode the T. What do all those people who ride the L think about when they're staring off into space?

I was reminded of a funny show that used to be on Comedy Central called Upright Citizens Brigade. It was sketch comedy that took place in New York. There was a sketch on the subway that explored this very idea. I tried to find this clip on YouTube, but it's not there. So I'll put the quotes.

• "If I had more money then, I'd have more money now. Money."
• "I could kick his ass, I could kick her ass... hmm... better leave that guy alone." 

I saw a musician. And was approached by a weird lady. As far as I could tell the L is in the middle; not as simple as the T, but not as confusing as New York. Which turns out to be just right.

a hypothetical

[scene] A cool night in any beach town. Four friends are driving home from a day at the beach where they enjoyed food, drinks, and a few other mood enhancing substances. Pete is sitting in the back seat with his hand hanging out the open window so he can enjoy a few last minutes of ocean air. His 18 year old friend Jennifer is driving... rather recklessly.

Pete: Hey, Jen! You'd better slow the f**k down!

Josh (also in back seat): Yeah, dude -- you're gonna flip the car! to Pete: I knew we shouldn't have let her drive after drinking, the weed, and the ecstacy.

Jennifer: F**k you guys, I'm fine! I am totally in control of the car. Watch!

At this point, Jennifer starts swerving the car across the three lane road, which she was free to do because there were no other cars out at the time.

Pete (screaming): Stop, you crazy b*tch! You're gonna flip the f**king car and kill us!

Jennifer: [lauging]

As the car speeds down the road, increasing in velocity, Jennifer overestimates how much room she has on the right side and clips the curb with her right front wheel. Sure enough, the car flips... three times or so. Pete's hand had a very bad bit of road rash on the back of his hand all the way up to the middle of his forearm. It will need surgical debridement and skin grafting.

The occupants of the car slowly emerge from the wreck and sit on the middle island waiting for the police. The dude sitting in the front passenger seat takes off running down the road for some unkown reason. Pete and Jennifer get taken to the hospital, where they are screened for injuries and there are none... save for Pete's hand.

But Pete decides to leave against the advice of his doctors. And Jennifer gets her license revoked.

This is an example of something I might see in the trauma bay. Sure there are worse, but this is pretty typical.

the disneyland game

Purpose: To pass the time while standing in line, taking a break, or eating a meal.

Location: Any venue that has large numbers of people walking around, like amusement park, state fair, carnival, zoo, etc.

Inventor: Our friend Gabi, who loves Disney and has since moved away to the Pacific Northwest. The original point categories have been slightly modified to adapt to crowd patterns noticed over time.

Rules: Each member of your party plays individually. You accrue points based on sightings, all of which must be confirmed by another member of your group. Game can be suspended for the following reasons: on a ride, want to enjoy company of group members instead of scanning the crowds like a CIA agent, someone splitting from the group alone and therefore unable to accrue points (i.e., going to the bathroom). Game play is suspended by calling "Game off" and re-activated by yelling "Game on!" Point accrual begins when you are on property (i.e., in the parking garage) and assembled as a group. Play ends when everyone is back in their cars or the group breaks up to return to their vehicles.

Point value assignments:
kid in costume: 1 point
kid on leash: 2 points
kid with wheely shoes: 2 points
a group of people all wearing the same screen T that was made specifically for their visit to said venue: 2 points per group
twins: 3 points

How to win the game: Using your keen skills of observation, rack up points. S/He with the most points at the end of the day wins!

computer graveyard

The basement call room is a strange place. There are several rooms that come off of one larger room. In the larger room is a microwave, two dirty chairs, an even dirtier couch, a refigerator to hold meals (usually made by loving spouses), and the computer graveyard. I've never seen any of these machines work and most of them were probably in their prime when I was in grade school. And yet they sit there, collecting dust, waiting for someone to decide to scrap them.

my decision

Thank you all so much for your input. As you may have noticed, I have not been posting very much at all. I have tons to say, but now that I've decided to make my blog more anonymous, I feel very leary about putting any new posts up.

I am currently working on where the blog will be going and how I will be notifying people about it. As soon as I have the details worked out, I'll let you know.

Again, thanks for your thoughts and insight. It helped more than you know.

state of the blog

I've been really thinking about an issue regarding my blog for a couple of months now. I just don't know which way to go. So I thought I'd bring the issue here, so all (three) of you could weigh in on the subject.

So the website of my blog makes it not anonymous. I really didn't think it out when I picked the name; I just saw a lot of other people were doing it and didn't think it would be that big of a deal.

But now that I'll be going out into the real world of medicine, I'm sure plenty of my patients will google me in attempt to find out if I've been sued or published papers or whatever. And they'll run across this blog. And learn all kinds of personal things about me. Which is kind of weird from a patient-doctor relationship perspective.

Or is it? Am I the kind of person who displays empathy and compassion enough outside of the work place that would make people say, "Yeah, she seems like a good person. I want her to be my surgeon." Could I really pass that test? And is a blog the right way to be tested in that manner?

This kind of familiarity between doctors and patients has had warning flags all over it for decades. I'm not really sure why (aside from the weird sexual relationships that develop, but I'd never do that). But there must be a good reason.

So here's the question: Do I change the name of my blog and leave a link to it up for a few months and then take it down? Or do I keep things the way they are? Any thoughts anyone has on the issue would be very greatly appreciated.

no matter what you think, it's still monday

The world gave me a huge gift yesterday. First, let me start by saying that I'm on a completely new (and chill) rotation. No more having field pages at 3am, or, worse yet, having to go into the hospital to operate on the next incoming vascular disaster. I'm on surgical oncology. And while cancer completely sucks, it almost never has to be cut out at 3am.

Mondays are very relaxed on this rotation. The only thing we have to do is round on our patients and do morning clinic. Well, we didn't have any patients and clinic was canceled! I got some administrative things done and was home by lunchtime. Studied a little, had a good 4-mile run, and got ready to see a friend whom I haven't seen in months. She's a resident, too, so there's a reason. ;-)

We went to a little beach community that has a lot of shops, restaurants, and bars in a very compact space. Which doesn't leave a lot of room for cars. I searched and searched for a parking spot along the main road but was completely unsuccessful, probably because it was dinner time. So I ventured down a dimly-lit side street, found a spot, did a masterful job at parallel parking, and walked to the restaurant.

The food was great and we had a great time catching up with each other's lives. At about 8pm, we were done, and I slowly began to walk back to my car. I got sidetracked on the way; first into a cute little lingerie store. I don't usually go for those sorts of things, but this stuff looked cute and wearable . So I browsed for a bit, grabbed a business card so I wouldn't forget about it, and headed out. Next stop was a cigar shop. Daniel occasionally smokes a cigar... maybe a few times a year. Yesterday he had a particularly difficult meeting with a client, so I thought I'd get him something that he would enjoy after his long day. Total transaction time: about 3 minutes.

I'm slowly walking back down the street to where I parked my car. I noticed the flashing yellow lights of a tow truck. "That's gotta suck," I mused in sympathy to whoever's car was being towed. As I get closer, a panic sets in. Wait. Where's my car? Oh, there it is, being loaded onto the flatbed tow truck. Fabulous. Monday found me anyway. The police were there, too, because it was a narrow one way street and they had to divert traffic where the street began.

They explained to me that I had parked directly across some woman's driveway. She called the police, and they called the tow truck. The police asked them if I had to pay anything. They said $55 "drop fee." Which I found amusing because they hadn't even loaded my car onto the flatbed, so they weren't technically doing any dropping. If anything, I was the one who would be doing the dropping... to the tune of $55.

I handed the guy $60 and he tried to play the game of "Oh, I don't have any change." Bullsh*t, dude. You've got $5. As he was making out the receipt, I went up to the house that was attached to the driveway I blocked. I knocked on the door, so I could apologize for blocking her driveway. It was one of the waitresses from the restaurant! I don't think she recognized me, and I wasn't going to say anything because I didn't want her to make a stink about the two glasses of wine I had drunk. I apologized, she said thanks, and I left.

Oh, and the parking ticket is $50 for blocking a driveway. I think I may contest it. It was a very poorly lit street and there is no way I would knowingly park in front of someone's driveway. I am a stickler for following the rules of the road, just ask my most common object of backseat driving... Daniel. There wasn't even any paint along the curb to delineate it as a driveway, which is pretty standard around here. And, this has obviously happened to her before, given the rapidity with which she called the police. That would indicate that I'm not the only one who has problems seeing her driveway on that street.

I told my friend that the next time we go out, the place has to have it's own parking lot.

would prefer spam to this

Earlier today, Dawn posted about someone bringing spam to her place of business, that it stank up the place and made her ill. I don't doubt that at all. Spam is nasty. But I would much prefer the smell of spam in the call room than what has been going on as of late.

We work hard. We run around. Some of our shoes don't breathe as well as they should. So, some of our feet stink. Let me rephrase that. Some of their feet stink. Our call room is off of a larger common area with a refrigerator and some couches and stuff. I was sitting in here last week, with the door open, of course, when one of the other residents looks in at me and asked me what died in here. I didn't rat out the resident who is the source of the smell... it's not his fault after all... but at least he knew it wasn't from me.

At that point, I decided that I had to do something about it. So before the semi-annual sale ended at Yankee Candle, I went over there and got an electric room scenter and a refill pack; both for $5 each. I admit that when I open the door now, it's a very powerful smell at first, but at least it's a pleasant kind of powerful when you compare it to the alternative.

either way

I just got back from the gym. My shoulder is all better now and I was able to do a full weights work out. I saw something rather disturbing that I had to get out of my system.

Have you ever seen those leotards the male ballet dancers wear? Yeah. This middle aged man was wearing sweats that were so incredibly tight they were reminiscent of leotards. Hell, they could have been leotards for all I knew; I really tried not to stare. Either way, it was oh so wrong...