I've Got People Skills!!

So I don't really have anything to blog about...but I don't want my blog to circle into oblivion like so many dead goldfish. So, here's the insignificant stuff that's going on :)

• I get to attend "People Skills Training" next month! Woo! Rumor has it that this is in direct response to one of our coordinators going bat-shit crazy at an emergency room when his ex-girlfriend had her CAT scan read by a veterinarian rather than a physician. First of all, don't get your knickers in a twist. Maybe they thought they'd actually scanned a cat. Or maybe this vet was an MD as well. No matter what, I would assume the hospital contracts this service with him because he knows what he's doing. I do not believe this to be a valid excuse for throwing chairs in the waiting room or pinning an ER physician to a wall. Also, I don't understand why the rest of us have to be punished with a four-hour training session on professionalism. Especially since he wasn't even at work when it happened. The official stance was that we are in a job where we represent our organization 24-7, whether we're working or not, no matter where we are. Which is ridiculous, but whatever. I just hope no one finds the publicly posted picture of my co-worker and I dancing drunk on top of a bar. I'm pretty sure that kind of thing isn't included in the mission statement. :-p
• My laptop caught a virus. I had our IT guy at work fix it. Of course, my definition of "fix it" is to remove the virus. His version is to remove everything, reinstall only things work-related, and then refuse to reinstall anything I might need to have fun on this laptop. No Flash...I can't even see the little clock in my blog's sidebar. No YouTube videos. I might crumple up and die soon.
• S and I went to C's house last night and watched "Happy Feet." If you haven't seen it, you should. It's adorable. And it has a nice environmental message too. Of course, it'll make you want to shoot yourself for having ever eaten a fish and stolen from the mouths of penguins. But then you think about sushi and glory in the fact thatyou're higher up in the food chain. Because sushi is the best.
• While at C's house last night, we made a DiGiorno Four-Cheese pizza. Pulled it out of the oven, and we can't find her pizza cutter. No problem, just give me a knife and a cutting board. She hands me a serrated steak knife and points to the rack the pizza's sitting on. "I can't cut it with this, on that!" "Ugh. I don't want to pull out a cutting board. Can't we just use scissors?" "Huh?" "I think it'll work." C cut the pizza into slices with a pair of scissors. It totally worked. Apparently laziness is the mother of invention.

Today I have to clean my apartment. We'll see if that happens. :-p

Where Do Babies Come From?

It's something in the water...yet another coworker is pregnant. This girl is married to a minister, and already has a little four-year-old son. Apparently they've been hoping to make an addition to their family for quite some time, so I'm really happy for them. Their son, on the other hand, isn't quite sure what to think. My coworker was telling us that about six months ago, he was pretty gung-ho about the idea of a little brother.

"Mom, I want a baby brother."
"Well, we have to pray to God for you to have a little brother."
"Oh...wanders off...comes back...I know! I'll ask Santa Claus to bring me one!"
"Well, no honey. That's not quite how it works. You have to ask God to bring us one."

So, he wanders off again. She finds him later sitting at his little table writing a letter.

"What are you doing honey?"
"Writing a letter to get a little brother."
"Who are you writing to?"
"The Justice League."

Now that he knows about the newbie, they've spent the past few nights convincing him that the Justice League will not be dropping off a baby. They tried to tell him exactly what happens (to a four-year-old level) and they've decided to go with what they've got. That at Christmas-time his parents will be buying a baby from the hospital.

Apparently his Mother and Batman don't have that kind of relationship.

What's the Buzz?

For the past few days I've been holed up in my apartment, laying on the couch in my pajamas, watching movies and television. Drinking orange juice by the gallon and turning occasionally to redistribute the snot swirling around in my sinuses. Because nothing cures a cold like lying in front of the television snuggled up with a giant teddy bear, drinking orange juice, and watching "The Little Mermaid" like you were 4 years old all over again. (Actually, something might cure a cold better because I'm still totally stuffed up and miserable, but I don't know what it is so I'll go with what I have. I'm definitely up for suggestions though.)

So, all this time I'm sitting in here, I'm hearing this whining/buzzing noise. It's coming from outside, and it's kind of high pitched, but it isn't constant. The tone goes up and down. I assumed someone was doing construction. Maybe they had circular saws set up in the parking lot? Or maybe the crazy mechanic neighbor with the attack dog had gotten some tools and was pretending to be a member of Jeff Gordon's pit crew? I didn't know where it was coming from, but it wasn't close enough to make me think someone was trying to tunnel into my apartment (another of my ideas) so I decided not to worry about it. The weather outside today was sunny and gorgeous (hit 75 degrees) and I assumed people were outside and if someone were assembling some kind of nuclear warhead in the parking lot, surely one of my elderly neighbors would call the police. I was also a little worried that the buzzing noise was in my head because of my cold. Or that it was killer bees. Always a big concern.

So this evening I'm sitting here watching SVU. And the noise begins again. And it's really loud, and it's getting dark. It continues and I think, "Surely there's some clause in the lease that says you can't operate electric lathes in the parking lot after dark." I finally shoehorn myself off the couch to figure out what the hell has been going on for the past week. Are you ready for this? Drumroll please...

It's an RC car. Some kid got a little RC car and is *racing* it up and down the parking lot pretty much from the time he gets home from school to the time his mother calls him in for dinner.

I worry that I'm going to end up one of those old people shaking my cane and yelling for those kids to stay off my lawn. Seriously. I'm bothered by the noise from an RC car. What am I going to do when I move back into a city? It's gonna be interesting.

Frustrated

• I woke up feeling sick this morning. Again. I'm pretty sure that my workplace is a breeding ground for sinus infections, influenza, strep throat, and bubonic plague. I have once again contracted at least one of these. Just in time to be on call all weekend. So, since today's my day off, I decided to go to the store and stock up on supplies. News flash: Simply Orange is God's gift to orange juice. That stuff is delicious.
• To get home from the store, I have to enter the gates of my apartment community. That's right...I live in a gated community. I'm pretty sure the gates are there to keep all the thugs inside the complex. But whatever. There's someone in front of me blocking the gates. And I can see him digging around in his car. He's paying absolutely no attention to anything except his desperate search for what I can only assume to be a sandwich or some kind of herpes ointment. What else could be that pressing? In any event, after patiently waiting five minutes, I decided to alert him to my presence with my car horn. I press the horn. Nothing happens. I LAY on the horn. Nothing happens. Welcome to stage 431 of my poor truck falling apart. At this rate I'll have to buy a new car before the year's out. Because I have a mighty need for a working horn.
• The guy finally pulls through the gate. I make it home. Walk in the door with the intention of drinking orange juice, taking tylenol sinus, and eating some lunch. I pull out the hummus mix and start chopping up pita and celery. Get the measuring cup, turn on the faucet, and nothing happens. Because the water in my building is turned off. Or has dried up. Either way, I was given no notice of the impending drought and now can not make hummus. Stupid apartment complex.

I'll also probably lose my basketball bracket. Which sucks, because wagers were placed in cake.

And I love cake.

A Shot in the Arm

When we're in the operating room, there are several medications that we give the patient to increase organ function. They have varying effects, blah blah blah. One drug that we give is a vasodilator. Meaning that it expands the blood vessels and resultingly lowers blood pressure. Most of these vasodilators are given IV. However, when donating certain organs, we inject a vasodilator straight into the artery we want to dilate. It is my job to draw this drug up into a syringe. It is also my job to be really careful when I do this.

So, today, I was in the OR. I was drawing up the vasodilator. But rather than in a vial like we usually have, it's in one of these old fashioned glass vials that relies on the surface tension of the drug to keep it from running down your arm. And since I'm not experienced with these vials, I don't know how to keep it from running down my arm. Long story short, here's what happened.

There are 4 surgeons, 3 nurses, 2 anesthesthesiologists, 5 nursing students, and the other coordinator and I in the OR. Everyone's busy...either operating or watching the operation. I'm drawing up drugs. Next thing I know, I'm lying on the floor. Of an operating room. With 4 surgeons hovering over me, the other coordinator and a nurse propping my head and feet up, and all the nursing students crowding around trying to figure out what the hell happened. I look over and there's a needle in my hand.

Guess what happened! I was drawing up a potent vasodilator, got it all over my arm, absorbed it through my skin, and lost enough pressure to pass out on the operating room floor.

Because I am a professional.

*Seriously. Yesterday mauled by a canine, today unconscious on an OR floor. This stuff doesn't happen to everybody. I kind of wish it didn't happen to me. At least it gives me something to blog about.

Attack!!

How to use your dog to meet women:

1. Keep the dog on a leash. When the dog comes loping after the girl while she's still in her fancy pants work clothes and 3-inch heels, she's only excited to meet the owner so she can berate him for his irresponsibility.
2. Make sure the girl actually likes dogs. When the dog is running toward the girl and her face is contorted in a look of horror for what the dog is about to do to her, it's a pretty sure sign that she's not going to be that excited to meet you. Dogs are fine...large stranger dogs are not.
3. If you're going to leave the dog off the leash, train it. For instance, if your dog doesn't know that jumping and biting are wrong...that dog probably needs to be on a leash.

I got home from work, was walking toward the apartment, heard the dog running toward me, and was next being scratched to pieces by it. I have big scratches on my stomach, a rip in my pants, and a bite on my hand. Luckily nothing broke the skin. Guy runs up to me, grabs the dog, sees my namebadge from work and before apologizing about the dog starts to make small talk. "So, what do you do?" and the like while beaming at me.

You set your dog loose on me. Your dog's favorite food is PEOPLE. Not cool, dude.

Also, you owe me a pair of pants.

Email

Remember how I professed my love for Burt's Beeswax chapstick in the last post? When I realized how great it was, I convinced one of my friends to purchase some for herself. A couple of days later we had this discussion via email.

Her: "ok....um.....yea.......Burts Beeswax.....not so much. I saw that you have blogged about this wonderful new product and I myself am slathering it on my unchapped lips the past few days but today I noticed something very disturbing on the tube. In addition to wonderful and wholesome things like cococunt oil, sunflower oil, vitamin e, peppermint, rosemary etc. it is 50% PLASTIC. Yes, post-industrial, recycled plastic. How should I feel about that? Please inform me of my opinion. Thank you dear wise friend."

Me: "I'm pretty sure that the 50% post consumer plastic is the *tube* that the chapstick comes in. Also, i'm pretty sure you're a moron. :-p (j/k) Don't doubt the greatness of the Burt's.

Her: "Omg, I am a moron. Please dont tell anyone about this although I am pretty sure you will."

Me: "um...yeah. i'm going to blog about it."

Her: "yay!! finally i am featured on a blog after six long years of trying friendship :-) ok so i have been trying to think of something really dumb you said....remember: "*This quote removed by blog editor*"? Yea--Bitchslap....you deserve it."

Congrats, you made it to the blog. Unfortunately the evidence of my stupidity did not. Sucka ;)

Storm Chaser

This morning I got to work and was greeted with everyone buzzing about the forecast. The news was predicting "the strongest storms Alabama has seen in 18 years." Tornado watches were issued for pretty much the entire state, and all the schools in my county let the kids out at noon. Apparently we were going to be getting some heavy stuff. So, I was planning to ditch out of work early and ride out the storms at my apartment. In my pajamas. Cuddling with my teddy bear. And eating sag paneer.

Instead, we had three donors pop up. And the three coordinators with no one to go home to were left to man the fort. Everyone else bailed to pick up their kids, or wives, or mothers. I kept waiting for a gap in the weather so I could make it home. Worked on cases, and checked the weather radar on the internet pretty much non-stop. Finally, at about 5:30 I thought I had my out. The storm was in Bessemer, which is about 25 miles from Birmingham. And the internet reported that it was moving at 7 mph. So, the other coordinator that lives in my building and I decided to make a run for it. We ran out in the rain to our cars, and struck out for home.

As soon as I got in my car, I turned on the radio and started driving as fast as I could (pretty slowly given the traffic) toward home. About a quarter of the way there, I'm listening to the meteorologist and he starts talking about the storms in Bessemer. "We can see at least two funnel clouds forming...of course, this storm has a history of forming these clouds. This is the same system that spawned the tornado that destroyed Enterprise high school, and has so far killed 13 people in the state. This is an extremely dangerous storm, and we advise everyone to take shelter blah blah blah." And I'm kind of freaked out, but I'm thinking I've got at least a good 40 minutes to make it to my apartment that's only 15 minutes away. 7 miles an hour, 25 miles away, I can't do math, but I had time. Of course, then I tuned back into the meteorologist.

"...And this storm is moving extremely quickly. At a rate of about 40-45 mph, we expect the line of storms to hit Birmingham in the next 5 minutes."

Ohhh crap. So, I call my friend, tell him to drive faster, and we both laugh about our impending death. I eventually made it up the ginormous hill upon which I reside (although I was really afraid my crappy tires were going to send me spinning off into the woods) and into my apartment. I am completely sodden, the bath towels I was drying out on my balcony are almost certainly not dry, and I'm praying the power doesn't go out.

Let this be a lesson to you- the internet's "live" weather radar? Not so much. Stupid weather.