Sunday, May 28, 2006

Poo and Dog Bites

Hello Loved Ones,

I was originally preparing for another ranting monologue about 18hour days and the emotional pain of perpetual stupidity, but I think all of that (including the 100 or so boring constipated people I’ve seen in the last couple days) takes a backseat to the following anecdote: Also, it is a relatively short story and I (having just returned from the hosp) am not long for this world.

Tonight I was in the emerg department looking at hard, poo-filled bellies. My boss stopped by, but had dinner plans with some friends he hadn’t seen in a very long time, so he left me with the last poo lady, and told me to page him with the dets. It took me a while, but I got her story, called him up and told him I thought she needed to be admitted for a possible bowel obstruction. He agreed that she should be admitted, but said he thought she might have diverticulitis of the right colon. WTF? This guy is a diagnostic machine. I had barely relayed any information. I scoffed in my head and thought he was out to lunch. After all, I’d seen the xray.

Twenty minutes after I hung up the phone, the patient in question had a humungous bowel movement. Actually, she shat the bed big time. Obviously, not a bowel obstruction – probably diverticulitis! Fuuuukkkkkk. I try so hard! I want my boss to like me and think I am smart. Just to make things worse I think I forgot the pink consult sheets that he needs in order to be paid somewhere in the ED. I hope to Christ I can track them down tomorrow morning…..

Anyway, I’ve digressed. My boss said to admit the patient and told me what orders he wanted on the chart. He said that after I was done with “le paper work”, I could go home and he would come in later tonight and co-sign. Fair enough.

However, as I was wrapping up my business, a man came in with his right nard fully hanging out of his scrotum, precariously dangling in mid air. His penis was also in fairly rough shape. Despite the fact that I am not currently doing an emerge rotation, I could not help but implicate myself in this case.

According to the patient, his son’s dog bit the nard off for no reason. I found the man’s story, and his demeanor, suspicious. The facts, and some of the evidence, did not add up. Nevertheless, whatever the dickens this man was up to tonight, he definitely paid the price. I thought he was gonna punch me in the face as I began injecting 10cc’s of Xylocaine directly into his purple, shredded ball sack! The pain must've been unreal. I was as gentle as possible, but he was screaming. Poor fucker. I left before the stitching started. Even busted testicles couldn’t keep me from my flannel heaven right now.

Goodnight - T

ps - good luck to Pesto and Shakes the Cat who will be taking part in the full and half marathons respectively tomorrow!

Wednesday, May 24, 2006

Flight Risk

I can scarcely muster up the courage to detail my current degree of emotional destitution. Just now, as I was driving home down the dark highway, I had to resist an almost overwhelming urge to pass by my exit and keep on driving into the night forever. A fugue - I was considering a frickin’ fugue! What in God’s name is the matter with me?

Luckily, I realized in time that I was heading directly for Hawkesburry, which is a place I never want to see again. This, coupled with the promise of warm, inviting flannel, may have been the only thing that kept my truck steered toward home.

Now here I am, about to head to bed, defeated and emotionally vacant. Today was another one of those wherein I felt incredibly stupid, frustrated,and unclear as to what was expected of me for most of the day. I dealt in assholes, poo, and hemorrhoids all afternoon and then I missed the surgery I had been looking forward to all day. My boss does not like me. Tomorrow I will probably get in trouble for having poor judgment. Today I was chastised for being too worried about a patient who apparently was not as sick as I thought. Oopsie.

BBCTCHR, I did not have time to look at a photo of your new car. I’m sorry. I thought I would see you again later, but I did not. You were delivering healthy babies with my classmate. I was jealous. I want to deliver babies, and feel the bright rays and warmth of antenatal care shinning on my face. Instead, I duck out of the way as liquid poo hurls out of an anuscope.

Probably by tomorrow I will have swung back to a manic state, but for now all I can think about is the fact that I have to go back to the hospital in 6 hours and feel my deficits as acutely as today.

My roommate Bobcat would like you to know that he feels more or less the same way, minus the poo, since he is doing dermatology right now. Apparently rashes are also pretty gross.


Thursday, May 18, 2006

Nice Nurse's Uniform...

Hey gang,

A tired tabby here sending a little shout out to all of my feline friends. I started my general surgery rotation on Monday and haven’t had a lot of time to catch my breath since.

First of all, I’d like to you to know that my new preceptor is pretty much the polar opposite of my former boss. Actually, he is the bee’s knees. He’s kind, profesh, and good to his patients. Plus, he buys me at least one large coffee everyday. He’s not a kindred spirit necessarily, and I’m not convinced we’d really be great friends on the outside, but I really like working with him.

Sadly, I don’t think he finds me overly bright, and definitely I am incompetent in the OR (intentional use of misplaced modifier). Still, I am happy to be working with him. The days start early and sometimes go late. Yesterday we worked 16 hours and got home at midnight. Today I was back at the hospital at 6:45am. We rounded on patients and then went to the OR. We had two big cases scheduled, but only ended up doing one. Why? Because it took frickin’ 6 hours. I scrubbed out to go have something to eat at the 3 ½ hour mark. Knowing it would be a long haul, I bought the most calorically-rich food I could get my hands on and hoovered it down in like 10 minutes.

My preceptor said it was the longest, non-emergent case he's done since starting at our hospital. Indeed, there were some mild obscenities being uttered after the 4 hour mark, and the son of God was called on by name to help out on a few occasions. Everything went fine, it just took a lot longer than expected. Dude had a funny colon and adhesions all over the place. A woman waiting for her mastectomy will be first up tomorrow. I can’t imagine how it must feel to be bumped from a surgery that is already so psychologically difficult to prepare for…

For those of you who don’t know, general surgery is extremely physically demanding work. I have nothing but admiration for those who do this kind of thing every day. Personally, I’m lacking adequate muscle mass and considering a short course of roids to improve my chances of getting a good evaluation. Retracting human flesh is hard, hard work; particularly when there is a lot of fat involved. My muscles are sore and ache and my roommate says that my back is a disgusting mess. I’ve had a couple of mini spasms in the last 2 days while contorting myself and simultaneously retracting. Last night at 11pm my arms were burning off, I was sweating profusely, and my stomach was digesting itself.

Suffice it to say, I have no intention of being a surgeon. Nevertheless, it is a real privilege to be scrubbed in for surgery and have your hands buried in someone’s innards. It’s kind of surreal actually. I’m enjoying it… but I still prefer delivering babies.

Not much else going on. My hair catastrophe is worse by the day. I'm destined to grow out a mullet (no offense Mr. Apple). My skin is no longer radiant: I think I'm having a reaction to the mask. Tanks God I will either be working or studying most of the time for the next four weeks. Otherwise, I’d be kind of depressed. Cats are very vein.

I have to go now. I have my first ball hockey game tonight and I need to go stretch and inject my first dose of the juice. I hope I don't get backne. I’m gonna mash some heads together!

Tabby xo

Saturday, May 13, 2006

A Word of Advice

Do not ask your hairdresser questions about grass seed, or how to sod your own yard while he is cutting your hair – particularly, if he is passionate about this topic. I did the above and now have very short hair and bangs to show for it.


Friday, May 12, 2006

Thank You Estée

Dear Estée Lauder,

I’m sorry to be writing you this note post mortem. I would rather have let you know in person. Nevertheless, I feel compelled to share with you my overwhelming gratitude for restoring my skin to good health.

I first came to your products out of complete desperation. The thought of spending such an obscene amount of money on facial moisturizer was almost unfathomable. Well, I humbly submit that I was wrong.

After months and months of unbelievably dry skin and resultant breakouts, having tried many modestly priced products, I was ready to throw in the towel and acknowledge that maybe I was getting old and my cells were breaking down or something.

In a last ditch effort to stop the madness, I decided to give you a shot. You did not disappoint. A couple of weeks of regular application of your “special serum” and Hydracomplete Moisturizer have left me feeling like a new woman. What’s more, the “special serum” can now be used only occasionally and my daily moisturizer needs are also greatly reduced. I no longer feel the need to apply copious cover up, or wear make-up (yuk) to hide the obscenity of my blotchy, chapped, shitty skin. In a word, I feel radiant!

Thank you Estée. You’ve found a friend and loyal customer in me.


Disappointment !

I went out on a blind date tonight. I had exchanged a fair bit of email with this person, but never met him. I have to admit, I had high expectations; not about the guy’s looks, but about his demeanor and personality. His writing was always witty, smart, and grammatically correct. I assumed we’d hit it off.

I guess it’s my own fault for having any expectations, but I couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. Sure, he’s a nice guy, but I felt no spark, not one iota of attraction, nothing. How does this kind of thing happen? How can someone who comes across as so smart and funny in writing just not deliver in person?

I’ve been off the dating horse now for several months, but was thinking it might be time to wade back into the waters. Well, apparently I was wrong. I never want to date anyone ever again. If this means celibacy and artificial insemination, then so be it.

It’s funny though isn’t. Interpersonal attraction is so unpredictable. I rarely get really excited about someone, but the last time I did, it did not go as I would’ve liked. I didn’t understand why because I was really a smitten kitten (perhaps too much so) but I guess he just wasn’t grooving on me, much like how I felt about my new pal tonight. I didn’t even want to shine my special light on him.

So there you have it. I tried. But I just don’t think I have many more dates like this one in me. Luckily, I was able to flag down a good friend who helped me drown my sorrows in a beer. It is a very well adapted coping mechanism.

Bottoms up,

Wednesday, May 10, 2006

Bits and Bites

Bear Down
Just like my backyard robin and cardinal found interspecial love, it seems a grizzly and polar bear have shacked up in a show of arctic fever, and created some hybrid progeny. Even more interesting is the fact that this ‘love cub’ was not the undesired product of a one night stand, or moment of weakness. Apparently, bears are ‘induced ovulators’, which basically means the female bear won’t ovulate until she’s pretty likely to get some action. So these two bears probably spent a bit of time getting to know each other before doing the deed.

Anyway, what I find particularly interesting about this story is the fact that people are speculating that different types of bears mating is a never before seen phenomenon, and is very likely a function of declining polar bear populations. Here’s the thing: the hybrid bear was discovered when an American sport hunter shot and killed it. Does it seem kind of stupid to anyone else that some dumb fukkin’ “sport hunter” should be up north on a guided hunting expedition that has as its’ sole objective to shoot an animal whose numbers have been steadily declining. Isn’t that the real story here? WTF is going on around here.

Are you Bipolar? No, I’m an anaesthetist
There’s this anaesthetist at my hospital and he is the most embittered, aggressive person I’ve ever met. Some of the stuff I’ve heard come out of his mouth is shocking even to my hardened, cynical core. He talks all machisimo and shit, and he knows everything about everything. He is loud, condescending, and uncouth.

Well on Sunday morning, after an 18km run that resulted in extreme fatigue and intermittent left hemi paralysis, I was driving home down Bank Street. I stopped at a red light and watched as a lovely, smiling, older couple crossed the street. Imagine my shock and amazement when I realized that the male half of this joyous twosome was the vitriolic doctor. He was so relaxed, smiling and holding his wife’s hand. I can understand and accept some degree of professional/personal difference in one’s disposition but I cannot comprehend how this guy could be so different outside of the hospital. Crazy eh?

Moon Boots Anyone?
I bought these new running shoes. They are seamless on the inside, which is supposed to minimize blisters and chaffing. They are also known for having great cushioning. These factors are important to me. There’s just one catch. They are made in Japan by a relative newcomer to the running shoe market and they look like baby blue space shoes. Totally bizarre, but I just simply could not resist their charms. Sometimes looks don’t matter nearly as much as the rest. I’d rather be affiliated with a smart, forward-thinking shoe, than a sexy poorly engineered espadrille.

This morning I saw some patients in clinic. This afternoon, we did some cystoscopy and a couple of vasectomies. Then I left to go to class, which our lecturer did not show up for yet again. So, I went to the grosh and then trimmed the weeds in my yard with the lawnmower. The neighbours had been complaining about their declining property values.

good night my loves,
Tabby T

Saturday, May 06, 2006

Saturday Morning Cat

Well the weather outside is frightful and my bed is so delightful, so I slept in a bit this morning. Then I made pancakes for breakfast, listened to the radio and frittered away a few hours on the internet. Very slowly, I am getting to laundry, cleaning my bathroom, and I might even bathe today. Probably the ins and outs of my daily life are of little interest to you, but whatever. At least I added a picture for your aesthetic satisfaction.

I’m going to a birthday party this afternoon for my favourite one year old. It will be nice to see friends I don’t get to catch up with often. These things are always a lot of fun, though my ovaries will undoubtedly start doing flips and spilling eggs like crazy the minute we get there!

I’m slowly coming to a peaceful resolution around the Obs/Gyn – Psychiatry fiasco. Like the softwood lumber dispute, I just needed some time. And talking it out with Stephen Harper helped a lot too. More on this later.

For now, lets try and make the most of this dreary day.


Wednesday, May 03, 2006


This is my wish for you today.

You are beautiful. Take time to sample spring. Get out and play. Dig up some dirt. Or piss in a sandbox or something.

Not much to report. I am being traumatized by my new preceptor this week. At least 3 times each day, I barely resist the urge to apologize to the patients for the doctor’s rude behaviour. God knows he will not apologize for consistently being over an hour late, or not answering people’s questions, or dismissing their concerns with a scoff. It's exhausting really. Ob/Gyn was too good. It instilled in me a burning desire for respect – directed toward both myself and patients. Maybe that just isn’t a realistic expectation.