Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Funder and Yightning Skeery!!

So I'm sitting here in my bathrobe, waiting for the storm to subside so I can take a proper shower. I don't want to be in mid-soap and have the power go out. Some may find that erotic, and under normal circumstances, so would I, but I'm alone, I have a gimpy knee, and not seeing where anything is equates to disaster.

Taking the initiative, I went back to the gym tonight to start my swimming regimen. I'm not one for running (anymore), but I'm a pretty proficient swimmer. I used to dive when I was a kid (one-and-a-half gainers at 12 years old, thank-you-very-much) until my weird, smelly Uncle Harold told me I was inches away from smacking my head on the board. After that, I lost my nerve and never dove again. My dad was pissed. Not at me, at Uncle Harold.

Anyway, I got into the pool. Swimming hurt at first, but then things started working as I went, and soon I was trucking up and down the lane. Two lanes over, there is a this hairy Armenian who I'm sure was rocking the AARP card, and I swear he tried to hit on me. Did I mention he was hairy? Like the missing link. Oh, and he was wearing a Speedo.

Done swimming, I decided to move to the gym's hot tub. Community hot tub = human stew. However, I didn't care. The hot water felt divine, and once my eyes stopped burning from all the chlorine in the air, I settled in for a good 15 minute soak. Thankfully, the Armenian didn't join me. Neither did anyone else. Apparently, the place to see and be seen was the dry sauna. I walked by it, and there was a sausage fest if I ever saw one. I'll stick with the hot tub.

Nicely pruned, I went back to the locker room and showered. I didn't wash my hair (hence the need for a proper shower at home), but soaped myself up with whatever soap provided by the gym.

Then, it happened.

Lights and sirens went off. It was the fire alarm, and I was standing in the locker room, stark-ass naked and covered in soap. Building on fire? Too bad. I hurried and toweled off, threw on my clothes and left. I figured I was water-logged enough to the point that I'd burn slowly anyway.

Outside the locker room, everyone was working out as usual, despite the fire alarms going off. Most everyone covered there ears. An employee mentioned the building was not on fire, but a power surge tripped the alarm, and it would shut off in 5 minutes. I opted to not wait out the 5 minutes, and leave instead. A monsoon waited outside, and the PT floated home.

So, here I sit. I may chance the shower anyway because the chlorine smell is starting to make me nauseated.

And how did you weather the storm??

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

The Fifth Circle of Hell Revisited

Due to insurance purposes, I switched physical therapy places. Why pay out the nose when you can just drive a little farther and go for free? Even when you factor in the cost of gas, it's still a better idea to go the extra mile...or ten. There's a big difference between free and $75 a visit.

My new physical therapist is some tiny lady that I could easily put in my purse. We sat down and I brought her up to speed on my recovery thus far, and the problems I'm still having. She did a strength assessment of my legs. Not surprisingly, my right leg still sucks. She tried to move my right patella around and it wouldn't budge. She surmised that I hadn't been doing patella mobility exercises, and I looked at her as though she was an Alien Booger for the planet Nose. Apparently, part of my PT regimen should have included such exercises to prevent the same thing from happening that caused me to have surgery in the first place.

Now, I want to go park a Ryder truck in front of my old physical therapy office. Bastards. Working out with the 70 year olds seemed like a good idea at the time. I should have known something wasn't right when part of my physical therapy involved an empty coffee can and a deflated beach ball. Reconditioning with common household garbage!

Fortunately, not all is lost and I have been given new instructions on what to do to get me back on the correct path to recovery. I still hate physical therapy, though. Today, Tiny Lady had me doing some sort of exercise with one lonely stair. It hurt, and I cursed her with the rage of an angry Muslim extremist. In my head, of course.

Whatever it takes to get me 100% in time for my cruise this fall. I don't feel like gimping around the ship, getting run over by some old person on a Rascal. Once was enough.

Helping Those Who Help Themselves

I've read and watched the press about the Independence Extreme School Makeover Effort this weekend, and I was impressed. Had I not been scheduled to work, I would have gone to help out. I'm pretty handy with a paintbrush. I don't have kids, but I do support education.

Some people would like you to think that anyone who showed up to help, who didn't even have kids in the district, did so with an underlying sinister political agenda. If that's the case, who cares? At the end of the day, shit got done and maybe for the first time, some of those students who attend those schools will have hope when they enter the building. Sure, it's just paint and shrubs...but it shows that people care.

Without looking at the who's and why's of this, look past all of it to the fundamental cause: if KCMSD had maintained the schools in the first place, the whole "Extreme Makeover" event wouldn't have had to happen.

To understand the psychology of people is to know that they generally like to pitch in and help out when they see that the others that need the help are also trying to help themselves. Who feels good about helping someone who consistently bitches about how crappy things are, just expecting someone to just come in and fix everything, while they just sit on their asses, converting oxygen into carbon dioxide.

Katrina, anyone??

If KCMSD comes out of this looking like assholes, it's because they earned it. Yeah, you can ask where were these concerned citizens before the Indy district took over the schools, but you also need to ask why would a school district allow their buildings to fall in such a state in the first place? Had I been a student there, paint peeling off the walls, things broken, it would be depressing. Why should kids care about their education when no one else does? I'm going to guess that the money that bought those expensive African drums would have also bought a lot of paint.

I'm sure there are lots of parents with kids in the KCMSD who do volunteer their time in an effort to try to make the schools their children attend a better place, and I applaud them for it. You can always spot these kids because they are the few success stories. They come from parents who actually gave a shit as to whether they could read past a "See Spot Run" level. These are the parents who give a damn, and the parents I wish all parents could be.

However, if the KCMSD fails to support the parents and the students they serve (instead worrying about lining their pockets with money and their own job security), anything that these parents do is the equivalent of spraying perfume on a dog turd. It may smell nice on the outside, but it's still shit.

Maybe the KCMSD would be best served if they looked past their own greed, to the events that just occurred this weekend (which were nothing short of a miracle), and take stock of just what they are doing wrong, and how they could correct the problem. Their schools are falling apart, the people they serve are drowning in an apathy that they have created. The few kids who do manage to graduate, can't read past a 6th grade level. I know, I went to community college with many of them.

During nursing school, I was part of a volunteer effort that went to elementary schools and did free screenings for the kids: medical, dental, vision. Inside the bleakness of the decrepit buildings, I saw poverty reflected everywhere. I saw hope in the eyes of the children before the hard reality of life is realized. I saw teachers that did the best they could, but the quiet resignation that a lot of times what they did was in vain. And I saw a school district that has turned it's back on all of them. These are our children. They deserve better.

Time to wake up, Kansas City Missouri School District. It's time to stop being the problem, and be the solution.

Our future depends on it.

Friday, July 25, 2008

Friday's Blather

I was up until 3am or so this morning talking on the phone with New Guy. The phone call was supposed to have been a short one. He was tired. I was tired. However, what was supposed to be a short conversation ended up being a little over 4 hours long.

Don't ask me what we talk about...I promised not to blog about it (he's smart, this one).

After the call ended, I went to bed and slept until 8:30 when I woke up on my own, and realized I missed Indy's call for breakfast. Oops. I got up anyway, dressed, went to the store for essentials, and came home. I crawled back into bed, intending for a good nap before work.

Brother had a tattoo slated for this afternoon, and his "client" brought over some little yap-yap dog with a high-pitched bark which continued long after he put the dog in the back yard with Hank and Sam. Put a yap-yap dog, a 5-month old Saint Bernard, and an American Eskimo in a yard and have them bark in unison = no sleep for Heather.

I finally dozed off when the doorbell rang. I waited and when it was evident Brother was not going to answer it, I did. It was some schmuck from Time Warner wanting me to switch service. He was a bit of a douche about it, especially when I told him I wasn't interested. He wanted to know what I paid for my dish-phones-computer bundle (NUNYA!). I told him three times I wasn't interested, but he wasn't to be deterred. I even caught myself nodding off during his sales pitch. Hello??? Did he not notice the pajamas and messed up hair???

Finally, I said "no thanks" and shut the door. Bitchy? Probably, but dammit, when I say no, go away.

I've been having problems with people calling during my prime sleeping hours. I've decided to collect all the numbers of the offending parties, and I will be making some calls this weekend. All starting at 1am.

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Insomnia Blather

I didn't take anything for sleep, is it any wonder I've been awake since 3am. Oh well.

I went to the blogger meetup last night. Lots of new faces I didn't recognize, folks I follow on Twitter and now put a face to.

We went to some Mexican restaurant in Overland Park. I got lost, and ended up in Lenexa. Fortunately, I called Faith and she was able to give me better directions. Unfortunately, she was having a bad day. I hope that maybe my misfortune brought a little joy into her life. I tend to have that affect on people.

After talking to her, Spyder called and was able to direct me to a parking spot.

I've never been to this restaurant before. Their food was okay, a little bland, but the company more than made up for it. I got to meet Travelgal...who doesn't blog, but it a familiar face to the comment boxes of many-a-blogger. When the final bill came out and Pedro told me that my Discover card was declined because "your card expires in 2013, and our machine only goes to 2012", and stupid me didn't think to bring cash (because I had only brought the official card of General Blather), Travel jumped in and saved the day. The next meetup, I'm totally footing her bill. Thanks, Travel!!!

I ended up chancing Ambien again on Monday. New Guy stayed on the phone to see what crazy things I might do this time. He was disappointed because I didn't do anything remarkable. Perhaps the Lingerie Incident was just isolated. On a happy note, he's been totally cool with everything so far, so it's safe to say that thus far, he's not a douche bag, and can be added to the Cool People list. Nuke and Faith can rest easy...

I've yet to see Dark Knight. It is on my agenda for today. Hell or high water. Preferably during the day so I only have to pay $5. I'm going by myself. I don't care. I'll orchestrate an outing later for the Imax showing.

Brother has taken great delight in my speeding ticket, even though I pointed out that had it been him, he probably would have gotten a higher fine. I told Legal Beagle about it, who agreed that I got a pretty good deal, and despite him needing new business, he would prefer I not get a ticket at all (awwww). He really is a great guy, and if he wasn't dating some uptight and boring lady, I'd be all over that like white on rice (also if there wasn't a certain New Guy who has captured my interest). I don't mess with married or attached guys. Policy.

However, if anyone out in Blogdom is in need of a lawyer, shoot me an email and I can send you his contact info. Tell him that his favorite nurse sent you!

Monday, July 21, 2008

A Perfect Ending to an Already Shitty Weekend

This weekend, not so great. Friday I get to ship a patient off to ICU where they up and die. Saturday I get to play with a crack head. That is never fun. I'd rather cut off my toe with dull scissors than do it.

So, it's no surprise that I get popped by the local po-po on my way home from work. 51 mph in a 35 mph zone. How dare they hide out in plain view at the bottom of a hill!!


Officer Friendly, who is in the position to really cap off my weekend, has a heart and drops it down to 5mph over the limit, which reduces it to a non-moving violation. No points for Heather, and no ramifications on my driving record or insurance premiums. I'm going to chalk up my good fortune to the good old Nurse Card. In scrubs, wearing my name badge, smelling like an armpit.

I look pretty pathetic in the mornings when I get off work. Not to mention I have badass cleavage.

I'm not going to bitch too much. I could have had a fat ticket, and then grovel to Legal Beagle to fix it. I don't particularly care to grovel.

It's against my very nature.

Sunday, July 20, 2008

Adding Insult to Injury

Remember when I took the Ambien and I woke up in lingerie and couldn't remember even putting it on, much less a reason as to why??

No?? Then read the next post to get up to speed.

Well, I was hoping that my Ambien-induced antics would be confined to the safety of my humble abode. Well, as my dad used to say, "You can wish in one hand, and piss in the other and see which one fills up the quickest."

Turns out, my behavior extended beyond the split-level. I was talking with New Guy, and after hearing about my lingerie episode, mused that "your message last night now makes sense."

I apparently texted him and asked him something along the lines of "What do men wear to feel sexy when they are alone?"

What. The. Hell?!?!

I don't remember sending this message, but I am appalled. Mortified. Embarrassed beyond the definitions of that very word.

I'm calling the office Monday and getting a prescription for something else. Apparently, there are worse things than insomnia. Like making an ass of yourself to the guy whom you have hopes to date, but the relationship is still in that delicate stage where the smallest of things can be the deal breaker.

He claims it's hilarious. I think he's going to get an unlisted phone number come Monday.

Saturday, July 19, 2008

Adventures With Ambien

So, the Most Awesome Office Nurse Ever called in a prescription for Ambien because I needed help in the sleep department. I've taken Ambien in the past, and it's worked beautifully, and without the weird side effects that some people experience.

Well, not this time around.

I took the Ambien plus two Vicodin (as suggested). I thought I would blog but then I started seeing two computers in front of me, and decided that blogging may have not been a good idea.

When I woke up Friday morning, I was wearing lingerie. I never were lingerie for no apparent reason. It has to be a pretty special occasion to get my ass in frilly unmentionables. It was a cute little black set I bought a while ago just because it was on sale. I don't know why I decided to wear it to bed Thursday night. All night, while I was working, I racked my brains, trying to figure out my reasoning for wearing bawdy underwear to bed...on a weeknight...without any sort of special occasion.

I couldn't come up with a reason. I just blamed the Ambien.

I don't know what else I did Thursday night. Part of me is afraid to find out. At least I was alone in the house.

I think...

Friday, July 18, 2008

The Campout

Wednesday night, I went to a camp out hosted by Smo, attended by other folks from the night shift. We gathered to celebrate H.C. finishing nursing school. Even more great, she found out that she passed her boards today. Yay!!

Smo lives out in the boonies, just outside Belton. I love her house. It's newer, nicely decorated, modern, roomie, and most importantly, it feels like home. I could sit on her couch all day breathing, and be happy.

So, I arrive later, bringing my world famous potato salad, and some beverages. I pitch my new tent, put the new sleeping mat inside, and join the others. We grill outside, eat inside to avoid the bugs, return to their patio to sit around the fire bowl and have fireside chat. I announce I'm going to jump on the trampoline (I hadn't been on one since before I hit puberty. This should be fun!

Indy announces he's never jumped on a trampoline either, so we talk him into climbing on. I showed him a couple tricks, I think he did one. He was laughing...giddy like a young 12 year old.

After a while, Indy gave up. Tweener jumped on the trampoline and we did a game where she'd do a trick, I'd do the same. Then, I'd do a trick, and she would replicate it. At one point, she did some sort of drop-knee flip. I did it, but what I did was not exactly the same, and had me doing some twisty-movement in the air to the point Indy thought I was going to fly off the trampoline. Upon landing, I felt my lower back pop. A round of ooohs and ahhhs from the audience, and I retired from my short-lived career on the trampoline. I felt like I was going to puke.

We sat around a little fire bowl and gabbed about work, and learned new exciting phrases like "monkey ass" and "swamp titties". H.C. is such a riot, I swear if she started to do stand-up comedy, she'd find herself a lucrative career.

After a while, we moved our little party down to Smo's "Dookie Pond", where her husband had set up the makings of a big bonfire. He lit it and we sat and watched the blaze while listening to music on his truck. He also managed to hide some fireworks in the bonfire, which was a nice added touch.

The fire dying, everyone turned in for the night (sadly, the hot tub remained ignored). Indy, experiencing a big night of firsts, had never camped a day in his life. Naturally, he didn't have a tent, so I offered him a corner in mine. I had a thick blanket he could sleep on because the mat was mine.

Because I'm still dealing with insomnia, I laid awake. All. Night. Long. At one point, I just looked out the tent window and watched the full moon. Listened to the coyotes, and the occasional firecracker from the defunct bonfire. Indy, however, slept soundly, snoring. When he snores, it sounds like a motorcycle. In the morning, I made sure that everyone understood that wasn't me snoring.

After the sun had risen, and started to turn everyone's tents into little greenhouses, we packed our crap and went our separate ways. When I got home, I called my doctor's office and spoke with his office nurse, who is probably the most awesome office nurse on the planet. After whining about my severe insomnia, she called in a prescription for Ambien and a refill on mine pain meds. (On a side note, the pharmacist who was on when I picked them up was a bit of a crabby, old douche...but that's a separate post.)

Last night was the first night I had a good, solid night of sleep. The pain meds also helped with the rest of the pain my body was experiencing, courtesy of the trampoline. Lower back, abdominal muscles, and of course, the gimpy knee.

It's been years since I camped out, and I forgot about how much I liked it. It was an overall fun time, and no one got smashed to Birthday proportions.

Can't wait to do it again. Maybe a float trip somewhere down the road. I'll stay off any trampolines in the event we come across one.

Monday, July 14, 2008

New Poll

So, I was talking to New Guy, and we got on the subject of televisions in the bedroom. I've long been a proponent of no television in the bedroom. I've never had a television in my bedroom, I more than likely never will (unless someone moves into my bedroom and gives a compelling argument as to why I should have one).

On a side note: did you know that couples who keep a television in their room have sex half as often as couples who don't? Yeah, I imagine it's hard to get in the mood after watching Beavis and Butthead.

New Guy has a t.v. in his room. A big-assed plasma one. Indy has one. Mom and Mr. Recommendation have one. Brother doesn't...yet. It's only a matter of time before he does.

On the cruise I took Mom on, I discovered that she likes to have the t.v. on when she sleeps. I prefer pitch black with just a little white noise (like a fan). For seven straight nights, I went batshit crazy listening to B-rated movies well into the night.

Almost everyone I know has a television in their room. When did we come to such a pass? Is it really that hard to go to the living room to watch a show? That's what I do, then I take my happy ass to bed to sleep.

My room is an oasis...designed for rest, relaxation, and intimacy (in the event the opportunity presents itself). My bedroom is my haven. Calm colors. Aromatherapy. Nice, soothing and sensual environment. Not a place to watch South Park.

So, I decided to broaden my poll. Do you have a television in your room? Why? Have you thought about moving it out?? Try it, for a month. And let me know what you think.

Mark This Day

This is the happiest day of my life. Well, maybe not the happiest. Top five. Top ten at the very least.

Brother bought a new car today.

I drove him to the dealership and told him he was not allowed back home until he had procured reliable transportation. Now, he owns a shiny gas hog to call his very own. AND it's big enough to transport a very, large drooling St. Bernard. And a woman. And her kids. You know, in the event he wants to have a family outing at Chucky Cheese.

Let's cheer!! Woo-hoo!!

I shall celebrate by taking a nap...


I just read that the guy who created the calendar featuring return Mormon missionaries with, gasp, their shirts off has been excommunicated. Excommunicated. As in, don't-let-the-door-hit you-in-the-ass-on-your-way-out...but you're always welcome to attend Pioneer Day. And you are still allowed to eat all the orange jello with carrot shavings you want.

Guys without their shirts off, all of them wearing pants. (Hell, if more missionaries looked like the ones in the calendar, I might be more inclined to start going to church again.) It seemed innocuous enough. Proceeds went to various charities, such as Habitat for Humanity. Did I miss something sinister lurking within the glossy pages of the calendar? Were there gay undertones that I wasn't aware of? Was one of the models Southern Baptist??

It could have been could have been return sister missionaries posing topless. Or it could have been return missionaries that served during their golden years (i.e. old people) posing topless.

I understand the reasons the church has issues with the calendar, but isn't excommunication a tad bit severe?? It's reported that the models were not disciplined....which also makes it even more puzzling.

I hope he makes one for 2009. I think I'll actually buy a couple if he does. I'll send them out to my Mormon friends and we can all burn in hell together. With iced tea.

Sunday, July 13, 2008

For Smo and H.C.

I apparently don't blog enough to appease my fans. I need to be inspired, otherwise I just crank out big, steamy hot piles of shit that look like what Hank now deposits in the back yard. I suppose I could blog about my bowel habits (regular!). My toys (impressive collection!). My wedges (still need to post pics of those for Suzy).

I don't just pull this out of my ass, people!!

And it's too early to post about the new guy I've been talking to. We are currently in negotiations for one of those date-type things. I can't blog about him yet, I haven't decided on a nickname which doesn't insult his sexual prowess (of which I have no first hand knowledge of).

I guess I could really give Kant a coronary and post a review of some porn flick I've had the misfortune of previewing.

So, this is for Smo and H.C., because they have been bitching all night that I don't blog every single minute of my life so they have something to read while the patients actually sleep for a change.

Go back to work, bitches!!

Thursday, July 10, 2008

Losing a Day

Because I am afflicted with the worst case of insomnia ever, I stayed up until 5am on Wednesday. After lots of sleeping meds, and a hot shower, I finally dozed off. I figured I would only sleep four hours and just wake up on my own. That's usually how this works.

So, imagine my shock when I rolled over this afternoon and the clock read 4:55pm. I had a work-related meeting to attend at 5. I jumped out of bed, combed my hair and pulled it back into a ponytail, dressed, and hauled ass to the meeting, which was held at the Spitfire Grill. If you go, have the chicken sandwich. To die for!!

When I was driving home, I lamented the loss of my day. My entire day, and I got little accomplished. I stayed up late tonight to play catch-up on stuff I could do around the clean, and paint a couple more cabinet doors. I have a new deadline to have the kitchen done by, because I'm hosting a work-related bbq next month.

I'm going to try to go to bed a little earlier than 5am. I need to set my alarm so I can get up and call the doctor and see if he will call in something a little more useful than just recommending I take Benadryl. This is bullshit.

What sort of things, aside from pharmaceutical interventions, do you use to help fall asleep?? (And please don't say "masturbate furiously". That might work for The D, but not here.)

Wednesday, July 09, 2008

KCMSD:Shit or Get Off the Pot

I've been reading with interest all the hooplah regarding the Kansas City School District and their last ditch attempts to derail the Independence School District and blah, blah, blah. By now, everyone knows about how the KCMSD is behaving like bitchy ex-wives dividing property with their ex-husbands. It's not because they want the property in question, it's because they are bitter and want the Independence people to be just as miserable as they are.

From what I can see, Independence only wants to get ready for the school year. To do right by the families and children they serve. To behave as an education system should. KCMSD, on the other hand, has seemingly forgotten just why the hell they are even there.

Up until moving to the "big city", I lived in small, rural towns. The education systems are almost always the same. The school board is primarily composed of people who actually have children attending the schools. The actions of the school boards are governed by the needs to the very people they serve.

I look at the board members of the KCMO district, and I see nothing that reflects a true desire to help children learn and succeed. The board is more interested in money, and politics, and their own self preservation that they have forgotten just who they work for. The school district has no accreditation, and I don't see any attempt at getting it back. The buildings are falling apart. They go through superintendents like Paris Hilton goes through sexual partners.

The system is a failure. A complete and total failure. Everyone knows it, and finally the parents of Independence did something about it and voted the remaining Independence schools left in the sinking ship district to a district that actually gives two shits about whether their kids can read past a 4th grade level.

If I had my way, I'd remove every single one of the blood-sucking bastards from the KCMO School District and replace them with people who were genuinely concerned about the educating of children. How would you know who to pick? Just make the school board positions either no-paying or low-paying positions so those who were still interested were not in it for the money. That's how it works in rural areas. Hell, I'd even participate if it meant that kids actually learned how to add and subtract, instead of how to bang on an African drum.

I can't hardly bare to read anything about the KCMSD anymore, it makes me sick and puts me into a blind rage.

I need to go now and take a breather...

From a Bomb to a Dud

So some of you were probably wondering about the nuclear explosion I referenced earlier. To make a long story short: it never happened.

Not because an irate outburst wasn't warranted, it was. I won't go into a lot of detail about what happened. I'll just say it had to do with a guy, and he pissed me off by lying about something really important, and surprisingly, it wasn't related to Indy.

But on a related note, in an indirect way that he is totally unaware of, Indy kept a bad situation from becoming worse.

In the end, after much anger, and sadness, hurt, and disgust...I decided to take the high road and let sleeping dogs lie. I've walked away from the situation. I've purged the offending party from my phone, from my email accounts, from my life. I feel okay with this decision.

Expressing rage won't change the situation. At the end of the day, this asshole is still a schmuck and I take comfort in knowing that someday, karma is going to rape him in the ass. Sans lube.

So, sorry if I got your hopes up. You may now go back to your regularly scheduled programming.

Monday, July 07, 2008

Convo This Weekend

Perky Tech: How old are you?
Me: Thirty-three
Perky Tech: Thirty-three! That's a good age...Jesus was 33!! This is a good year for you!!
Me: If memory serves, Jesus's 33rd year didn't exactly work out for him either.

Saturday, July 05, 2008

July Festivities at General Blather

Ummm, I worked. It sucked. Ever had a day where your 12-hour deodorant gives up at the 6th hour? Yeah, that was my night. I spent the better part of the evening thinking I was going to vomit because I was a bundle of nerves. I will be so happy when this post-surgical funk passes and I'm back to my normal, confident, asshole self.

Anyway, our night didn't suck because we had an influx of admits. Our floor only got one and it was some pud med-surg problem. However, the helipad is directly above us, and I think helicopters landed 10 times. Some pilots land better than others. The bad ones cause the entire building the shake and it takes at least ten minutes for the exhaust fumes to dissipate.

Apparently, KC Star printed a coupon we didn't know one trauma, get the second one half off. The injuries, naturally, involved fireworks, or people falling into campfires, or just being drunk douche bags. Is this July the cutoff for the Darwin Awards??


At least I wasn't Indy. He got to float around the hospital and bonded with a young lady who revealed to him that she had "the runs". Lucky guy. I should try using this line sometime and see if it makes men swoon.

At any rate, my night sucked. I was the captain of the shaky ship, and I'm still a ball of nerves. And it's July, so we have the annual influx of new residents. Lucky us, we got the dumbest fucking resident on the planet. I'm pretty sure she paid someone to do her homework when she was in medical school...she couldn't find her ass with two hands.

If Dr. Dumbass is any indicator for the rest of the newbie residents I haven't had the pleasure of meeting, this is going to be a long year. God help me and God help our patients.

I should save up my PTO and just take the entire month of July off next year. I wonder if Bosshole would approve it...

The only silver lining was the delicious bbq rib dinner Mom made. It was good...we're talking rub it on your bare nipples good. It was so awesome, I got leftovers to take to work. Of course I had to eat it in five minute increments, but it was still good. It was the best. She makes the best ribs ever and I will pit her ribs against anyone else's ribs. If anyone thinks they can do better, they can kiss my fat ass. Which probably where the ribs will end up anyway.

On that note, I'm going to bed.