don't cha wish your doctor was hot like me?

and then it occurs to me that out of all my readers maaaaaaybe, um, two of you have actually heard the song i was about to parody.

so i'll just stop there for now.

but don't cha?

ain't nothing like the real thing

there's nothing like talking with your very own family members to get you all steaming mad first thing in the morning.

nerd alert

one of my favorite nuggets of work-related knowledge is how to calculate and wisely choose a glucose infusion rate (GIR). i think it is mostly because i have mastered its use and i know many other doctors haven't. it is, quite admittedly, a matter of pride.

i calculate it regularly using the formula i keep memorized in my noggin, that is,

GIR = [(D%) x rate]/ [wt x 6]

which is really quite simple as it is a fraction in its fully reduced form. but every time i calculate a GIR, and i mean every time, i think about how i haven't learned by heart the derivation of the equation. no, it doesn't matter. but i think about it.

knowing that GIR is in units of mg/kg/min, then i'm sure i could derive the equation by simple stoichiometry. i've just never gotten around to it.

fine.

GIR mg/kg/min =

{[(g dextrose/100 mL IVF) x (1000 mg/1 g)] x [(mL IVF/hr) x (1 hr/60 min)]}/ wt in kg

well foo. as simple as that is, why do some of the various versions of the same formula (just not reduced) have the number 1440 in them? oh, wait, is it figuring off of a total fluids per day thing? well who would do that considering that the total fluids a baby is getting often includes some feeds and some lipid infusions and meds and sometimes even a separate KVO fluid? that just wouldn't make sense, now would it?

why blog this? because i'm at work having my dinner which is a plate of insanely loaded fries (chili, cheese, and two different types of seasoned salt) and a coke in the wee hours of the morning which is insane enough as it is, and i like to do things while i eat, and because i was thinking about GIR for a patient. also i was thinking about how this one friend of mine, emily, keeps blogging about metronomes and about how she got a rude e-mail about how no one wants to read about metronomes which just fuels her fire to keep posting about them. after all, oughtn't one be able to blog about whatever one wants (so long as it doesn't violate ToC, of course)? i am joining her cause by posting about something no one wants to read about. but her posts are at least entertaining. mine is straight-up nerdy.

HA!

stultifying

i recently got invited to a baby shower. here's the poem that accompanied the invitation:

pink dresses and frilly smocks,
tea parties, stuffed animals, and ruffled socks.
giggles and laughter, ribbons and curls...
there's so much to look forward to with a new baby girl!

i was going to share the thoughts i had that were inspired by this poem, but i think i will wait on that. first, what thoughts does it inspire in you?

?

i am trembling with rage because of how one unreasonable person continues to complicate my life in unnecessary and unwelcome ways.

i wonder if this makes me selfish and unrealistic. one can't always have it one's way, can one?

i wonder if i am patient and kind and wise enough to, in the future, be gracious to new people in my life.

hmm

my fur is thick (and lustrous)
but my skin is rather thin

hee hee.

hah! ha ha!

ready?

and...

GO!

running, running, running, running,

running,

working, working, flying,

running, running,

pretending,

running, tolerating, running, providing,

running, driving, completely freaking out!, running, flying,

running, not sleeping, no not sleeping, running,

working, working, working.

crashing.

emphasis mine

because today could be captioned with statements that must bear appropriate emphasis, such as

i glanced downward. he was wearing two different shoes.

and

the dog bit me. it bit me.

and

i have been inconvenienced in many ways. this is not acceptable. i deserve compensation.

blur

i'm s'posed to leave my house in 2 1/2 hrs.
i just got home from work 1 1/2 hrs ago.
how did this happen?

ode to a white lady

o lady, white lady,
in cardigan sweater
with glasses on chain,
comfort shoes of soft leather

stepping up to the keyboard
and making me ask,
is this going to work?
is she up to the task?

how will she fit in?
is she up to snuff?
can she even play our
multicultural stuff?

we’re rockin’ and rollin’
and layin’ down beats
we clapclap our hands
and we stompstomp our feets

we’re jazz and we’re gospel
we’re african too
a little funk disco
and a whole lot of blues

we’re too “hip” and “with it”
to be held behind
by a lady, white lady
who’s behind the times

but wait, what is this?
what chords do we hear?
how does this white lady
allay all our fears?

this gramma can swing!
she’s on top of the beat
she’s noddin’ her head
and she’s tappin’ her feet

to a mean eight-bar blues
rife with dominant sevenths!
and this lady, white lady,
can add in elevenths!

ashamed of our prejudice
we have to recant
our doubts of this lady
in blue leisure pants

o lady, white lady
in cardigan sweater
we’re sorry we doubted
we should have known better

o lady, white lady
in soft comfort shoes
i hope when i’m your age
i can rock out like you

justification

"he on meds, girl."

and thus did my large psychologist friend justify the feeling of ick that i get when i am around icky-guy. and me shooting him down today.

at that moment

and at that moment when i arrived home i realized that i don't think i've ever experienced such a feeling of relief as that when i rub my itchy eyes. i hopped up the stairs, took out my contacts and removed my eye makeup, and started rubbing.

rub, rub, rub, rubrub, i was rubbing, and it itched and hurt and felt so good. i took a few steps, and started to head downstairs, and my knees went kind of weak. so there i sat, on the stairs, rubbing my eyes, breathing hard and making noises that sounded rather inappropriate, that's how badly my eyes itched and how much i needed to rub them.

physical well-being is something we actually do tend to take for granted. tonight i have a headache, and a snoot full of allergens, and i can't really focus on much else. i have many a task that needs to be accomplished and i expect that it simply isn't going to happen because i need to sit here and rub my eyes.

what to do when i have someone else in my life that i must attend to? will i still be able to take a break to rub my eyes? will i have time to be debilitated by my allergies?

and so tonight i am thankful to be on my own with no one to take care of, so i can be subject to my discomfort and not feel guilty about what it's doing to other people in my life.

how does everyone else deal with this?

success

what is success in the blogosphere?

if it were to exist, i believe it would be acheiving link-worthy status on other people's blogs. especially if they're strangers, 'cause, well, you know. it's easy to get your friends to link to you.

why? because i feel pleased when i see that i've shown up on people's link lists.

of course, it's just blogging.

but still.

addendum: on second thought, perhaps it is not so easy to get your friends to link to you, for most of the links to me out there are from those-who-once-were-strangers. thanks, former-strangers-now-blogfriends!

severing ties

part of me is excited to be dumping my old e-mail address. and then, then those people who could reach me only by e-mail address can no longer have contact with me, and i will be apparitiously anonymous. yeah i know that isn't a word.

meditation

breathe
breathe
breathe

what is it, to be bunny?

breathe
breathe
sip of honey water

breathe
pause


breathe
breathe
breathe

the essence of rabbit

violence

it's because i look cute and fuzzy, and tread lightly, but one thing that not very many people know about me is how horrible and evil i am.

something inside me loves violence. i'm mean, so mean. i like to break things. when something isn't right, and i don't like it, i take pleasure in destroying it utterly. not to pieces, but to dust. to nothing.

i like blood, and fire. i like destruction. they are very elemental.

and something inside me likes to hurt people. i have the ability to yell mean things very loudly. i have the ability to find out how people are most vulnerable and hurt them there. when they are hurting, i find myself in a position of power over them. and i want them to know it and to feel it.

i am well-liked, and i like that. but part of me would prefer to be feared.

that part of me is small but everpresent. i am not proud of it. i keep it hidden as much as possible because i know it's not good for me, for others, for the world. it is what i have inherited, a legacy of sin from my father, my forefathers. it gets smaller and smaller over time. it is atrophying. but it is still there.

you see, that part is easy. it's very easy and natural to be evil. what is not as easy is to be good. and that's what i'm spending the rest of my life learning.

good day, bad mood

thank God that today was a good day, making up for yesterday. but i'm still in a bad mood after a few things.

the thing for tonight? i will die when i am freaking SUPPOSED to die. there WILL be things to suffer before then. so freaking what. there is good coming out of my life.

bah. i'm gonna go eat my dinner before it gets cold.

continued

... or for winning fabulous prizes.

why some people choose to ignore camobunny's corner over the prickly pineapple i just won't worry about. same goes for ignoring the prickly pineapple. the double 'p' was the original, and is a still super-fantastic and hospitable place to hang out.

so yesterday a certain situation forced me to stop and count the number of weeks i have left in this town, an exercise i'd been avoiding intentionally. boooooo. knowing this number makes me want to freak out. but i'm not freaking out, which makes me worry that i ought to be.

the greatest consequence of my uprooting may be that i no longer will live anywhere near any friends. not that these past years have been all that friendiful.

so i am still thinking about this 'friends' thing.

i have one friend whom i have decided is sucky, and has been sucky towards me. rather sucky indeed. and the suckiness continues despite any attempts of mine to reach out toward said friend in order to address the suckiness or otherwise. what to do about that? i suppose i will not do anything about it, but will continue to be a friend, because that is how one does well at being a friend. said friend will never notice the difference (that being the difference now that i have realized consciously that this person is a sucky friend despite being an okay person).

for you cannot build both sides of the bridge.

(friend is already starting to look like a nonsense word)

and to go to the opposite end of the spectrum, there is a certain friend of mine who is a most excellent friend indeed. we live in the same city. we have not been close friends for long. and it was long before we became closer friends that limitations were placed upon our time in the same city. we both are moving this summer. what to do about this?

one option would be to mope about it. to lament it with much wailing and gnashing of teeth, and tears and gloominess. i don't think that's such a good idea as it would prevent me/us from enjoying this our remaining time here.

another option is to not do anything at all, and just be normal and go about as though nothing is any different until be both just move and then that's it. it seems to be a viable option, though somewhat, um, i don't know, ignorant i guess.

no, neither of those options sit well with me. i propose a third option, that being to celebrate my friendship with said friend as often as possible before we part ways, and to deliberately and committedly arrange ways by which our paths will cross again in the future.

i am most thankful for my friend who remembers to be deliberate about this option more often than have i.

and that, my friend, is how to be friends.

some people don't realize

blogs are not for communication. they are for expression.

catharsis

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

daily report

chet baker is playing my heartstrings and, from beyond the grave, making me feel wistfully sad. that must mean i'm tired and i ought to go to bed soon. so here's my update for you, and then i'm off to bed.

i AM tired. i worked hard today. flying is tiring.

over the past week or so i've found that i am still proud to do what i do.

it is demoralizing to find out that "hey, i AM working tomorrow, and i DON'T have a free day like i thought i did." but only for a little while. then it's not so bad.

my favorite time of year is when the dogwoods are blooming.

i get a free t-shirt for winning the contest on twitz. yay. i'd use an exclamation point there, since i'm quite glad, but i'm too mellow for that sort of punctuation right now.

it means more than one can know to be loved well by someone.

the shortest distance between two points may still be decades.

i report it to you.

more

i'm in music withdrawal.

i haven't done good music in a long time. i haven't sung jazz in ican'trememberhowlong. i haven't rocked out in ages upon ages.

i'm feeling the withdrawal from jazz the most. i honestly think the frequency combinations in jazz chords hit serotonin receptors in my brain. because jazz feels good. do you know?

and now i have won one free .mp3 download. what on earth am i supposed to do with that?

could it be?

could it be? could my camera possibly no longer be broken? how great is this? we'll see how long it lasts. i'm bummed i couldn't take pictures of people at easter lunch today though.

**********

in other news, i searched a little bit to confirm about my patient. it turns out it wasn't my patient; it was his brother (i saw only the mom on the news). still, it was indeed the mom i'd met, that same lovely person i'd interacted with.

it is still sad.

[respectful pause of appropriate length]

********

here's one for you. i used to subscribe to the practice of always, always bringing something along to a meal hosted at someone else's house. it seemed like the proper thing to do, even if unsolicited. sometimes, however, the hostess expresses that she does not want people to bring things. of late i have taken that to mean exactly what it sounds like it means, and i do not bring anything. i feel odd about it, going against my habit, but i feel also that people wouldn't say that they didn't want you to bring anything if secretly they did.

today's luncheon was hosted by someone i regard as a close friend. we're probably tighter than any of the other people who attended the meal, her spouse excluded (of course). and, as per her invitation and multiple answers to questions of "what can i bring?" (that being, "don't bring anything"), i didn't bring anything.

everyone else did. some people brought desserts, but the hostess had made a dessert from scratch, and so the "brung" desserts were not served. i personally do not see the point of bringing something when you weren't asked to and then the thing you brought not being served. but if that's what people do, i guess i'd comply because i don't want to be rude.

just an example of social conventions overriding practicality and sincerity. being pathologically honest but perpetually diplomatic, i'm conflicted. did i commit a faux pas? does it really matter much if i did? aren't i close enough friends with the hostess for that not to matter? or am i presuming too much to consider myself "special" in that respect? i am also operating under the presumption that she is so cool that she truly would not care; would that be presuming too much as well?

wait. oh yeah. i brought a pound of butter. 'cause she asked me to. and she did ask me because i am special. or because i happened to be closest.

i don't think bringing butter counts though.

the end.

news

one of my patients has died.

he was a healthy young man, tall and full of promise, who came to my er with a minor acute illness. i treated him and let him go home. his mom was a doctor, a lovely woman, and she knew indeed just what to do.

this week he was killed in a car crash.

i didn't know until, flipping through the channels this afternoon, i saw a woman on the local news talking about teen driving. she looked only vaguely familiar. she was incredibly composed. her lightly accented words were passionate and eloquent, and it was listening to her speak that made me suddenly recognize who she was.

perhaps it is strange to feel connected to my patients and their families after having met them only once. i don't know.

i am so very sad for her.

true story

don’t flunk your eyebrows.

i’m not.

yes you are. you don’t know.

fine.

were you thinking about something?

yes.

that’s your problem. you think too much.

ha ha.

no, really.

really? then what... but... i mean,... but HOW?

what do you mean, how? just don’t think.

i have no idea what you’re talking about.

make your mind empty. just think nothing. like me. i just sit there, think nothing.

wha— but... dad? daaaaaaad!

what.

mom says i should stop thinking. you have a brain like mine. tell her it’s impossible.

no, i think it’s good idea for you.

what?

yeah. sure. i can do it now. just leave your mind... just... blank.

who... wha... who ARE you guys, and where did you find me?

what?

longer than. longer THAN.

how could that have even come out of my fingers?

i would have preferred "longer thsn"

to "longer then"

it was a rough day but it was really great. today i received the blessing of objectivity and true perspective. it was huge. totally huge. and after a few hours, it was gone.

i miss it. i want more.

INRI

nothing is the way we would think it would be.

a morning alone

it is friday morning, i believe, and i have been all alone in the cubicle farm for seventy minutes. the only sounds i hear are the quiet roar of the air conditioning, the whirring of the computer's cpu fan, and my clackety-clacking on the keyboard.

no one has come in. usually someone is here by now.

i have received no e-mails this morning. not even work-related ones or junk mail. i usually have four or five by now.

there was no one on the elevator this morning, and i rode up to and down from the helipad without interruption.

i have been up for two hours and forty minutes and i have not yet spoken a word to anyone.

is the whole world on pause, and did i miss it?

i look out the window and see an airplane fly by. no, i guess not.

i imagine pushing the rewind button and watching the plane fly backward.

i did not get enough sleep last night. between my allergies and the treatment thereof i could not stay asleep longer than fifty minutes (or so) at a time. i don't think that has made a difference. not today.

unlike yesterday, i have no ambition today. i've got a strange feeling at the bottom of my chest and tingliness in my fingers. i've got some questions in my mind. irrelevant questions. questions regarding my recent behavior and how it has been perceived. questions regarding my motives and options. the answers to these questions will not change the course of my day whatsoever.

today is the day we commemorate the death of Christ. it is good friday. i have been given the opportunity to meditate on this alone.

i think i will go get something hot to drink and then return to the cubicle farm.

i am no longer creeped out by how empty this morning has been.

it has begun

*awakens in allergic misery

i didn't know it was possible to sneeze that many times, continuously, for that long.

dangit

and as a result of today's multiple legal stimulant ingestion, i am not hungry. i am, however, determined not to allow such a minor detail as lack of appetite to deter me from the enjoyment of food and drink this evening nor to deprive my body of nourishment, as would be the easy thing to do.

stupid caffeine.

bummer

can i tell you what a bummer it is that my camera is broken?

it is so totally a bummer.

caffeinated

i have had coffee.

and i'm on my allergy medicine with decongestant substance added.

along with guaranteeing some cardiac events to record for today, this combination also makes me much more efficient and energetic and intelligent. or at least it makes me feel as though i am.

these two things are performance-enhancing drugs. i admit it freely and you should too.

i am now also impatient. i am sitting in my cubicle waiting for my one o'clock meeting. it is all i can do to stay in my chair, let alone stay inside the hospital on this beautiful sunshiney day. i have margarita-flavored fun to look forward to tonight. and in between i have household duties that i just might be able to perform thanks to the performance-enhancing drugs. i have to clean the kitchen, including some dishes and the fridge. i have to clean the living room, including filing the papers that are on my coffee table and bringing folded laundry upstairs. i have to clean my bedroom, including putting away lots of clothing as a result of a recent seasonal wardrobe switch. i have to clean my study, including beginning to throw out those things i don't want to bring with me when i move. that won't get done today. and at four o'clock pacific time, i get to take a break to search for a missing appendage.

when i have days like this the morning of the next day is a disappointment, especially since i have to work, but but but i don't care because right now it's todaaaaaaay!

i think

i think my favorite part about my own blog is how my blog subheader changes when each time you visit or refresh.

p.s.

i am craving pan-fried spam.

and yet

after reading a certain post by a certain someone,

do you not know? have you not heard?

some people intentionally try to be obnoxious.

perhaps people do not realize that "disagreeable" is not a positive characteristic. or they have forgotten.

in any case, why would one TRY to be obnoxious? it is the same as trying to be disliked.

i want to read your blog

so write something on it already!

ouch

i find mild amusement in this tool provided by weather.com:


so if i am hurting in a red state, should i move to a grey state?

should we send all the people who are pains in the *** to certain places in the country?

there are funnier questions to write but i've gotta get going for now.

inanity, vanity, and pride

my blog will never be a "popular" blog because i write about such things. i am most definitely okay with that.

in some sort of objective fashion i can say about myself that i have been given certain talents and attributes that may be assessed as positive. i do like that about my life. at the same time i feel a strong desire to be humble and wise, and therefore not to put great stock or value in these talents or attributes. this results in a bit of inner conflict and paradoxical thinking, and often leaves me searching for equipoise (see future post).

example: the donation of my hair last june was intended to be an exercise in charity and humility. ("jo, how could you? your one beauty!") the point was to do something good for others and to deliberately do away with vain concerns about how i look. on self-assessment i would say the exercise did not last with me long. my new hairstyle was a smashing hit and is now being emulated all over the place. i got so many compliments. sooooo many. so many that i felt that more people were looking at me. and i started curling my lashes and wearing mascara.

ugh. prior to this i had felt that mascara was a fairly inane endeavor, seeing as how 1) it's makeup, just more unnatural face-paint, more time wasted in the morning and 2) they're just eyelashes. what's the point? what an arbitrary thing to consider a factor for beauty. and besides, mine are already black. i still don't know exactly why i started doing this; i can only theorize that with my hair gone i felt a need to make my face (eyes) prettier, and i just acted on it without really considering what i was doing. in support of that theory is the fact that i have worn makeup just about every single day since i cut my hair too.

in a small step toward readjusting my priorities, today i am going about sans eyeliner. but i feel naked without it. no, naked is the wrong word. i feel dowdy without it.

the purely psychological effects of this one tiny insignificant detail has changed my attitude for the day. i find that to be lame. quite lame indeed. fortunately, it's no big deal.

i chose a superficial example for the blog, but there are many more instances in which i find myself thus confronted with my own personal hypocrisy as manifested in the actions that conflict with my purported values.

it is one thing to be idealistic, and quite another to actually live out one's ideals. i find that the difficulty in accomplishing/reaching such a state of integrity is attributable to the false comfort found in fulfilling fleshly desires, and is proportionate to one's degree of insecurity as well as the degree to which one is affected by local societal values and pressures.

all that to say, it's not easy being vain. so why bother?

yup

lookit. it's a cute baby.

some friends

years ago i made a friend. we got along well enough, and seemed to have much in common.

years after that i met that person’s spouse. we got along even better. very, very well indeed. probably better than i’ve gotten along with anyone in quite a long time or perhaps ever.

it has occurred to me that the reason i get along with said person’s spouse so very well could possibly be that i am so very like said person.

this has great implications, i am sure, but i am not prepared to discover or apply them.

for some reason it makes me want to feel hopeful.

dangerous, dangerous.

****
addendum
no i am not trying to steal someone's spouse

... and ...

oh and the store clerk seemed to enjoy my comment so much that i'm sure had he not been so totally gay he'd have thought he was into me.

heh heh.

wait, what?

work

yeah. it was the worst night in the ER. i'm talking, the worst in years. in at least four years. probably more.

we had a mass casualty. can't go into details. there was a perpetrator and there were victims, all of whom rolled in together. we were seeing kids and adult patients in our children's hospital.

the senior attending donned the "chief medical officer" vest and directed everyone. i, the second attending, "made myself available." all available medical personnel throughout the rest of the hospital were paged to come down and help.

during the mass casualty, multiple unrelated traumas rolled in. and rolled in. and kept rolling in. and then there were more. and more.

i only did two traumas and staffed one of the mass casualty victims. otherwise, i "remained available." that was my job. to otherwise "hold down the fort." while the rest of the ER went completely nuts, i and two residents just took care of everything else, of which there was plenty.

at the end of the night so many of our staff were exhausted and demoralized. i remained fresh as a daisy. because that was my job. ?.

and again, ?. i feel weird about it. not that i necessarily prefer frontline work, but if everyone else is suffering in the trenches i feel weird about hanging back, remaining my "in case" / "reserve" position. they thanked me for doing so, but still it felt odd.

in any case, it passed, and i remain unscathed.

i hope everyone else is okay.

oh yeah, and

i feel dumb.

oh but

not to bed before i make note of an excellent evening last night.

why must it always cost so much money though?

annoyed

i
have
been
so
incredibly
annoyed
by
everything
all
day.

i spent the day completely alone, so as you can imagine, i was annoyed mostly with myself, things i did, or situations i created.

what's great about this is that now i get to go to bed and wake up to a new day. i hope i don't get woken up by something annoying.

question

what is the value of one's sense of one's own wisdom?

for does the fool ever truly believe himself foolish? as it would take a lot of insight to recognize the true degree of one's own folly, it would take even more to assess the true magnitude of one's own wisdom.

********************************
addendum:
what i'm saying is, if you think you're wise, you're probably not. right? most people think they're right and knowledgable, and more often than not they're wrong and ignorant. wise people take it a step beyond that. they know their folly and learn humility (which is very nearly synonymous with wisdom, by the way).

i would imagine that at some point one is so wise that one can actually legitimately give credit Where credit is due and acknowledge one's own wisdom. at that point one would be wise enough to know just how wise one is.

in the meantime, however, we pretty much all think we are wise, fool and sage alike.

isn't that kinda funny?

dirty world

i want to pour bleach all over the whole world
let's clean up this mess, folks
why do we sit and soak and steep and wallow in this awful awfulness
especially when we know better?

it grieves me. to my very core.

**************************

it's been done, you know.
why don't we act like it?

i take offense

i do.

i always do.

i don't know why.

i wish i wouldn't.

bummers

my prickles have drawn blood.
my camera is broken.
my tummy feels icky.
my house is a mess.

those are all my problems. and in that case, all in all i am doing quite well.

however, allergy season draws near...

what the...?!

i stepped outside today and

it was

green!

with flowers!

what happened?!

reunion

"oh baby, i missed you."

spoken by camobunny to her ride so fly upon returning from a week in rental cars.

today

today my heart aches.

get momly

i'm not a mommy
but i play one in real life...