Hey look, that issue of Wellesley Magazine with the article about "blogging" (I do kind of hate that word) finally came in the mail. You may remember that I was called all the way back in the fall for an interview for said article. It's been so long that I almost thought they scrapped the idea or something.
So nice job out of Jen for securing the cover story! I would link to the article, but the magazine ironically doesn't make itself available online. I'm just glad I didn't sound like a damn idiot in the quotes they ended up choosing. I have a tendency towards idiocy under fire.
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Had another nightmare of a call in the PICU last night. I guess I'm going through a bad stretch. I don't usually have a black cloud per se (ResidentSpeak for "cursed with perpetual bad luck on call"--come for the webpage, stay for the lessons in medical lingo) but seriously, my last few calls have been assy, even taking into account that, duh, it's the PICU, your patients are going to be sicker than usual. There comes a point in the night, though, around 4am, when you just have to realize that you're not going to get any rest, and once you come to terms with that, a sort of inner Zen sets in. It's just the dashed potential for rest that's really painful.
Post-call, I came home and slept for about four hours and then headed back uptown for Joe's Resident Research Day reception, which turned out to be a much smaller deal than I had anticipated. (I thought it was going to be a sit-down dinner kind of affair, whereas in actuality it was more of a cheese and crackers kind of deal, with one lone, sad caterer walking around with a platter of chicken skewers.) Afterwards, we met up for dinner with Joe's friend Forest, in town from San Francisco. Dinner was good, but by 9:30pm Joe and I were both practically comotose with exhaustion, whereas Forest was ready to head out for part two of her evening, meeting up with some old friends at The Knitting Factory. Honestly, I know I shouldn't say this, because I'm still in my mid-twenties and should be living it up, dancing on tabletops and snorting cocaine off a hooker's naked ass, but the thought of staying out past midnight is just about as appealing to me as...well, the idea of snorting cocaine off a hooker's naked ass. At least we know this parenthood gig isn't going to cramp our style.
Currently reading: "The Namesake." I'm digging this book. It's a fast read, and an interesting first-generation American narrative. My favorite parts, though, are when she writes about the food. Mmm, Indian food.
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