Double Axel, Pelvic Exam

My new gynecologist is a former professional figure skater. I googled this immediately following my appointment and based on some listings on a figure skating dvd, he appears to be telling the truth. I can understand how a gynecologist might want to start making stuff up - I've done pelvic exams many times before and there's always that lull in the conversation where you're fully aware that you're looking at someone's lady business like right there in front of your face, but you still feel the need to be polite and make conversation. And unlike the dentist, your patients can actually respond. Which was fairly interesting for me when I worked in rapid care, because there were some really messed up patients (for specific examples, please see below). Personally, I prefer conversation when I'm on the patient side of the pelvic exam because it makes me less aware that at any time someone could walk into the room and my vagina would be right there. Like RIGHT THERE. You ever think about that? I also tend to think about it when I'm going to the bathroom, particularly when I'm in one of those one room-one toilet bathrooms. They're nice for the privacy, but there's no stall door buffer for you. So I tend to wind up moving the garbage can in front of the door, just in case. And then I start wondering if that would even help if someone were to open the door - Would they stop when they felt the resistance, or would they continue opening the door only to find me half-naked and a knocked over garbage can with its contents spilled all over the floor?

So anyway, I can see how a gynecologist would start making random things up in order to fill the awkward naked air. Especially if they're just seeing you for a yearly Pap smear. He could figure, hey, I'm probably not going to see this person for another year, so I might as well make shit up because even if she finds out the truth, she'll probably forget to call me on it a year later when we're back on the awkward Pap smear conversation train and I tell her that if you look really closely, you can see me performing the part of zombie #3 in the Thriller video (I'm the one who looks like his face is dripping off...no, the one to the left of that guy) and next year I'll come up with something even better. She'll never remember!

Which is precisely why I googled him, and he appears to check out. If someone tests your cervix for cancer, you want them to not make shit up about figure skating. And then he proceeded to switch me from my current birth control pill to a progesterone-only pill because apparently my history of classic migraine paired with a pill containing estrogen puts me at increased risk for stroke. Yes, we managed to cover this when we weren't discussing triple toe loops. So switching my hormones around should be a pretty fun time. Anchors away.

As promised, tales from messed up pelvic exam recipients:
Tale #1: Woman in her forties comes into rapid care with what she describes as abnormal vaginal bleeding.
Me: "When was your last period?"
Abnormal bleeder: "A few weeks ago, I don't really remember"
Me: "Are your cycles usually pretty regular?"
AB: "No, they come and go at weird times, I've always been irregular."
Me: "What was it that concerned you about this bleeding? Have you been feeling any pain with it?"
AB: "I don't have any pain, but I noticed that a clot came out, so I took a toothbrush to it and it kind of broke off into blood and a clear part"

This is the part where you just resign yourself to doing the pelvic exam (which by the way, this woman was huge and didn't move well and was convinced she was dying from having her period, so it was even less fun than usual) because someone decides that they need to go to the emergency room because they haven't figured out that they're having their period and they clearly need to stop at the store on their way home and buy a new toothbrush.

Tale #2: Eighteen year old girl who is six weeks pregnant presents for an STD check.
Me: "What brings you in today?"
Baby Mama: "My baby daddy says he has an STD and that I should get checked."
Me: "Do you know which STD he has?"
BM: "No, they just checked him when he went to prison and they made him take pills for awhile."
Me: "Have you had any other sexual partners?"
BM: "No"Me: "Did you think he had any other sexual partners?"
BM: "No. Man, I'm gonna have to break up with my baby daddy"
Me: "Okay. We're going to do the exam which will test you for STDs. It takes a couple of days for the results to come back, so what we usually do is give you three antibiotics that will go ahead and treat you in the meantime."
BM: "Will it make my baby retarded?"
Me: "An untreated STD can have bad side effects on the baby, which is why we'd like to treat you now"
BM: "Will the pills make my baby retarded?"
Me: "No, the antibiotics should help you from having any problems from the STD"
BM: "So my baby won't be retarded then?"
Me: "Well, there's no way of knowing that. But the antibiotics should not have any harm on your baby."
BM: "So what you're saying is, if my baby's going to be retarded, it's already retarded then?"
At this point, I just say yes
Me: "It's important that before you have sex again you get retested to make sure the infection has cleared, and that you make sure your partner has done the same"
BM: "Well, my baby daddy won't be out of jail for another month...."

Something tells me that she didn't break up with her baby daddy.

The Three Days of Christmas

Last weekend I went to Christmas in July at Put-In-Bay. Here's what happened....

Friday:
Woke up in the morning, had a bowl of raisin bran, and was planning to go to the gym when all hell broke loose in my digestive tract. Needless to say the gym was not an option because of my trips to the bathroom approximately every ten to fifteen minutes, so I instead took to the couch and silently (and eventually not-so silently) cursed my GI system. You see, all week my IBS had been absolutely fine and now, on the day I'm supposed to go camping and drinking for an entire weekend, it rears its ugly head. So I did what any self respecting person who's been dealing with IBS for the last four years would do: I self-medicated.

After eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich at noon to see if it would help matters at all (answer: only slightly), I swore off eating and drinking because I didn't want to add fuel to the intestinal flames. And then I went to the medicine cabinet and took an imodium. And another one. And another one. And another one. After four of them, everything was calmed down enough that I was able to leave the premises.

Kim and Maureen picked me up and following a quick stop at Target to buy them sleeping bags (they had brought blankets for an air mattress, but opted for the sleeping bags when they saw how compact my model was). In the ferry parking lot, we crafted a truly brilliant and truly white-trashy way to transport our belongings on the ship and onto the island:

Classy, no? Fortunately Kristen picked us up at the PIB dock (armed with a "Take Off Your Pants" sign, nonetheless), so we didn't have to lug the damn thing across the island to our campsite. My sister and her friends have been going to Christmas in July for five years now, but this is the largest the group has been. We split off into three tents: Tent one contained Kristen, Mack, Meredith (Kristen's former roommate) and Meredith's friends Jamie and Becky; Tent two contained Amanda (another Kristen/Maureen friend), Amy and Courtney; tent three contained Kim, Maureen and yours truly.

We set up the tents, got ready and in the meantime, I had two drinks - one of which, unfortunately, was mixed by myself and probably a tad too strong. For those keeping score, at this point I've eaten some pringles, a few animal crackers and a little bit of water and it had to have been after nine at this point. After taking a cab downtown, we hit the bar and wound up at Frosty's, where I finally ate something of substance: pizza and breadsticks. However, at this point I think it was too late for me.

To make matters worse, I decide it's in my best interest to have a margarita. To make matters even worse, Frosty makes their margaritas incredibly strong. At some point, we wind up at Beer Barrel, where I stand around for awhile before realizing I feel ridiculously warm and my head feels like absolute crap. I get two cups of water, but that's not enough to reverse the self induced dehydration made worse by alcohol. Moral of the story: Don't take four imodiums, not drink anything all day, then have three drinks. Kim and Mack were kind enough to escort me back to the campsite and deposit me in my tent with flashlight and water in hand. I promptly fall asleep and feel completely better by the time I wake up two hours later.

And while I was sleeping, Mack discovered that she had been wearing two different shoes all night

Saturday:
I wake up just around eight to a downpour. We left our tents and went under a canopy to eat breakfast, but the ongoing rain made it clear that we couldn't get much done, so we went back to bed. By the time 11 o'clock rolled around the skies had mostly cleared, our tent was damp, and we were ready to go. After a series of gross campground showers, we went downtown for lunch. At this point my stomach starts acting up again, but it manages to recover during the afternoon hours.

Following lunch, we split up: Meredith, Jamie and Becky decide to walk around downtown, Kristen, Amanda, Courtney and Amy opt for the swim-up bar, and Kim, Maureen, Mack and I rent a golf cart and proceed to drive around the island (with some of us, cough Mack, occasionally grabbing onto speed limit signs while the vehicle was in motion). We mostly drove, but did a little bit of shopping, stopped at my grandparent's cottage (they were not there, but a very dead bird was), and eventually went to the winery and met up with Meredith, Jamie and Becky.

The winery showed some pure classiness, even classier than our luggage wagon. Sights included women picking up empty wine bottles using only their thighs, constant booing anytime someone wore a college shirt other than OSU and a women in a shirt that resembled a mermaid's tail. Kim drove us back to the campsite in rounds, and once we were all there, Maureen and I took Meredith's car back into town so we could pick up Mack and Kim after they dropped off the cart. We made a stop at the cottage because I was paranoid that I hadn't locked it (I had) and took awhile trying to find a parking space in the lot, yet Kim and Mack are nowhere to be found. We check the cart lot to make sure they haven't already dropped it off, but it's nowhere to be found. We wait for awhile longer, worried that they're not going to make the return deadline, when suddenly we see this:

It turns out that Captain Morgan and his helper ho were struggling to carry his booty to the Boardwalk when Kim and Mack drove by. That's a sentence I thought I'd never write. There wasn't enough room for everyone in the cart, but they offered Captain Morgan and his booty a ride. After the above photo ops and jello shots, we deposited the cart (on time) and headed back to the campground for dinner.

Night #2 out and about at PIB was far more successful for me than night #1. I had a lot of fun, yet I can't recall specific stories. I'd insert more pictures, but Blogger's currently hating on me, so I guess I won't.

Sunday:
Wake up, pack up, clean up, say goodbye and get on the ferry (after missing the first sold out one and having to come over on the 11:45). Dropped off at my parent's house (that's where I left my car for the weekend instead of out on the street) and returned to the apartment for a much needed sandwich (thanks to Tim picking one up at Einstein's for me), shower and nap. That evening we went back to my parents to set up the tents so they could air our and wound up staying for dinner (thank you again) and returning home where I barely made it to eleven pm before passing out again and blessing the fact that I had Monday off.

Merry Christmas!

Toast

I walked by a patient's food tray and now I want buttered toast. It's strange that hospital food could actually talk you into having a craving, but it happens from time to time. Makes sense to me that it makes a frequent appearance here - personally I think toast always tastes better when you're sick. I also find that to be true of cheese, for some reason, especially macaroni and cheese. The Kraft in the box kind, not the Velveeta oozy cheese one. Powder packets, while disgusting if you actually stop to think about it, reign supreme over its more liquid counterpart.

Speaking of which, I can't tell if I'm having a bad allergy/headache day or if I'm actually getting sick. I felt lousy last night and again when I woke up this morning, but since then I've been waxing and waning. I have a stuffy head, am blowing my nose/coughing more often than I usually do. If I am getting sick, I really hope that it'll get here already and clear within the next few days, because I'm going to Xmas in July at Put-In-Bay this weekend and to quote Mack, I need my energy legs. If I'm not going to get sick now, all I ask is that I don't get sick then and I really really don't get sick while we're on the cruise.

Another great but busy weekend, I accomplished the following:
1. Walked on Huntington Beach and saw a guy get arrested by two horses. Technically, he was arrested by two police officers on horses, but I like to think that the horses were the law enforcers in this case.
2. Laundry
3. Dyed my hair, but am only a slight brunette at the moment. Might go darker later, but am content for now
4. In order to buy the hair dye, Mom and I went to Target where most of the lights were out and we kept grabbing a couple of boxes and taking them out in the center aisle where the light was better. The big coolers had caution tape around them just so people wouldn't keep letting the warm air in.
5. Saw HMS Pinafore at the Ohio Light Opera in Wooster with all of my in-laws (save Sarah who was still rocking a horrible infection at the time, poor thing). I wasn't a big fan of the show itself and had some issues with the production, but there were some really good voices and it's always nice to see a show
6. Accomplished some much needed housekeeping type things - would have been more than some, but Tim wound up getting off work six hours earlier than he thought he would on Saturday, which resulted in the following
7. Wandering around the Lakewood Street Walk with Tim and Mike and buying some cute cocktail glasses for very cheap
8. Finally seeing 70 Lewis in person and being bitter that my number wasn't called in the raffle
9. El Jalapenos with Tim, Mike, Jason and the now improved Sarah
10. Rocking out Scattergories with the above, plus Mike's (very entertaining) friend Morgan joining us
11. My new favorite thing: Mike was driving through Steelyard Commons when a pack of geese decided to cross the road. Mike stopped for them, but one goose broke off and decided he should walk in a straight line directly in front of Mike's car, as if he had decided that he wanted to mess around with this guy. The goose moved eventually, but its awesomeness stayed with us for much longer
12. Watched the Indians lose. However, I watched them lose on a nice day, with good seats and good company (Mom, Mack, Kristen, her friend Mel, and Mel's sister Rachel). I'm still a little bitter that I actually touched a baseball that was thrown into the stands, but just couldn't get to it...If I had been one seat over, I would have had it.
13. Ate a delicious Melt sandwich and got a bit tipsy over one (yes only one) of their drinks. I don't know what the ratios are in this drink, but it always throws me for a loop. It probably doesn't help that I come to Melt on an empty stomach and have to wait awhile to be seated/actually get food, but still, it really works on me.

Phoney

I've finally managed to leave my cell phone at home while I'm at work. I'm actually quite amazed that this has not occurred already in the nine months that I've been here. So I'm currently off the map, impossible to contact, aside from the fact that I've given my immediate family several ways to contact me in the interim. But it's more fun to pretend that I'm unreachable and will have a bevy of texts and missed calls waiting me when I make my grand return, and not the reality that all my phone screen will show me is just the time. Much more fun.

Also fun is to imagine that Moxy and Grover have taken my phone from my nightstand and figured out how to use it, pressing the buttons with their paws. I like to think that I'll come home and see them laying across a number of boxes filled with scratching posts and strings and treats they ordered over the phone, sleeping away the surf and turf they had delivered for lunch.

Today is one of those days where I forget to pee. Not because I'm overly busy, per say, just because I'm a slightly distracted to the point of ignoring my bladder. No worries, I just returned from the bathroom, but I keep drinking water. I'm more tired than I deserve to be today, but I need to go deliver something to the lab, so I'm going to leave it at that.

Waiting Game

Tim and I decided to take a cruise - It sails out of Fort Lauderdale and going to Key West, Cozumel and Belize. We're starting to figure out what we're going to do while we're down there and I'm really excited. It'll be so nice to take that break after work and before moving. The week after we get back is reserved for packing and hopefully seeing a bunch of people before we go (seriously, I mean it, let's plan some shit). The beach is calling me, my friends.

I just found out that my aunt and uncle's dog is probably going to die in the next few days, which makes me really sad. I've only had Moxy and Grover for less than a year and it'd break my heart to see something happen to them, and they've had Kayla for ten years, I think. She's a sweetheart of a dog too, even if she licks your pants too much. And if you sit on the floor, she may very well sit on you (she's a golden retriever). But really, she's one of the friendliest dogs I've ever met. I hope she goes as peacefully as possible.

The weekend was another nice one: Tim and I went to Pier W (we had a gift card) on Friday night, which was incredibly nice. If you're looking to go there and don't want to blow a ton of money, they're offering something where you get an appetizer, entree and dessert for $28, which I thought was a pretty decent deal for such a place. The food and view were both excellent. I had a good time considering I was constantly worried about knocking over and/or spilling something. And yes, I did get a strawberry on the white tablecloth, but no one lost a limb or anything, so there's a win. On Saturday we had dinner and Meg and Steve's (sorority sister + her husband) house and were joined by Stephanie and Jill (another sorority sister + her twin), so that was the second evening of doing something semi-grown up in a row. We managed to blow that on Sunday, however, when we mooched off of my dad for laundry and dinner (but hey, he offered).

I feel like I should have a concluding line, but I don't.

helicoptER

Every time I walk by the hospital when the helicopter is taking off or landing, my heart skips a little faster. I think it's because of that episode of ER where the chopper skids off the roof, breaks hospital windows and finally crushes Dr. Romano as it lands on the ground. As a side note, I find the crushing of Romano pretty ridiculous because dude had his damn arm chopped off by the thing a season or two before and we're expected to believe that lightning strikes twice in the form of a helicopter?

Anyway, I finally convince myself that this is ridiculous and walk by the copter without freaking out when I was informed by our pharmacist that pretty much the same thing happened at UH in 2002. Okay, so Paul McCrane didn't get crushed in the blaze, but the wind changed and the thing crashed onto an unoccupied car, blowing out all the windows on one side of Lerner Tower (which is the part of the hospital I work in). Two of the people on the helicopter died, the third person on it actually managed to jump onto the roof before it crashed, and none of the patients in the building were hurt. It was most likely the "real life story" that the episode was based on.

So this initially tips the scales in the direction of fear, because dude, it actually happened at UH. But then you can take the rationale that it's less likely to happen again if it already happened again. But then you think of Dr. Romano with the evil chopper taking the arm and coming back again to finish the job and can only come to one conclusion: I should watch less television.

Day/End

I want to go back to the weekend because the weekend was nice and the weekdays are not. Today is just a numb day and I'm trying to pass some time until I can get out of here. I'm leaving early to drive to Columbus tonight (then Cincinnati in the morning to look at apartments), but I need to stick around till at least 3:30 in case someone comes in or something happens to my patients. My mind is not here right now and I just want to get in the car.

Like I said, the weekend was fantastic, but I think it made me a little tired. I went to the Indians game on Friday which they won 15 to 3. I know as a baseball fan you're supposed to like low scoring games because it's more exciting, the pitching's better, etc, but I've always liked high scoring games. Home runs, RBIs, keep them coming. Mustard (of the Sugardale Racing Hot Dogs) made a surprise appearance in the nosebleed seats, which made me smile....Ketchup was up there in another section and Onion was nowhere to be found. Following the game were Michael Jackson fireworks - that is, fireworks occurring while Michael Jackson's music played, not fireworks in the shape of Michael Jackson - and "Don't Stop Till You Get Enough" appears to have taken permanent residence in my head.

Saturday was initially a traumatic day for me - I'm at the parade minding my own business when the Krazy Kops drag me into their prison vehicle for "impersonating a prisoner" (I was wearing a striped shirt). They let me get off shortly after (actually, I kind of wanted to ride it for the rest of the parade), but the damage was done. The best part was that my mom and I were just telling Tim that we've always been afraid that the Krazy Kops will take us away even though we've never seen that happen. Someone remind me to not wear stripes next Fourth of July. I recovered and the rest of the day was spent at Dutton's finding out I'm actually quite awesome at Beer Pong (granted, I didn't have anything to drink, but that's only because I can't stand beer and that's all there was), holding a cute cute puppy, watching the fireworks with Ryann (always always entertaining), and trying to get the "George Washington" song out of my head (it's still in there, right next to "Don't Stop Till You Get Enough").

On Sunday, I went to Cedar Point with Tim, Peter, Sarah, Jason and Libby (who sadly did not get there till later in the day, stupid Libby having a job). I was expecting it to be horribly busy and crowded, but it wound up having the shortest waits I've ever experienced at Cedar Point. The longest we waited was about an hour for Maverick and that's including at least 10 minutes where the ride was broken down. We pretty much walked onto Magnum, Gemini, Blue Streak, Mantus and Raptor (the second time - the first time we waited a little bit), and only had a 25 minute ride for Top Thrill Dragster. It was thoroughly awesome.