Sticks and Stones

So I've been unsuccessfully trying to blog for almost a week, due in part to that flippin' "the server is experiencing a problem" screen, my work schedule (I was on call AGAIN last weekend; how pitiful is that?), and my own doing...I can't help it if I lead a dull life; I felt like I really didn't have anything interesting to say. Last night, however, I was assured that I am entertaining, if nothing else, and I should blog on to work through my blogger's block. So, here goes.....as usual some names are withheld to protect the identity of the innocent.... :0)

I've been on ortho for the past two weeks, and surprisingly like it (a little) better than I thought I would. They have treated me okay (or at least tolerated my presence). Let me say, though, do not believe for a second that the buddy system has been activated. It has always been, and will always be a boys club...not that I'm complaining, I would never WANT to do what they do and therefore probably am much less motivated to learn, but if I wanted to , I'd like to think that I COULD do it. What follows is my thoughtful, if not entirely objective, list of reasons why I have not been welcomed into the fold......why their world is not my own:

1.) On day 1 of the rotation, I noticed some seemed to avoid eye contact, with noses tilted to the north a little....since most of them aren't the prayin' kind, I can only assume it was to lessen their exposure to the odious scent of estrogen that I must have been exuding.....

2.) I don't think I could cope with several male nurse practioners who work there and all have the SAME name (and stare most unbecomingly).....can you say Stepford?

3.) Apparently I'm not smart enough...which leaves me in quite the pickle...also as a matter of note, I'm probably not blond enough, skinny enough, or plastic enough to be a partner's wife... :)

4.) I'm taller than most of them.

5.) I don't know how to "diversify my portfolio."

6.) I don't own a rolex or cole haan loafers.

7.) I'm not a 3rd generation doctor (just a poor kid with a dream, sigh) and do not have the confidence to develop air of superiority.

8.) When I yell at people, I (a) don't like an audience, and (b) get all red and splotchy, so am therefore excluded (of my own volition) from favorite form of leisure activity of some in that realm.

9.) Feel like a caged animal in the OR and do not enjoy chillin' with the boys in the surgery lounge. (Oh, wait, I remember....to be completely fair, my experience may have been jaded because no one actually spoke to me.....)

10.) Although published (I'm not one to brag, but I'm sure the Livingston Parish Library still has my Young Authors' Contest State Prize-Winning Essay in the archives; honest-there was a plaque and everything), I have not authored or contributed to various and sundry scientific or medical textbooks.

11.) Since my trust fund has been tragically depleted, I actually have (gasp) student loans.

12.) I do not enjoy referring to those I work with in the third person...as in...the nurse will be in....the resident is here, etc, etc...just say my name dawg...without having to refer (daily) to my lab coat monogram as a reference..... :)

These are just general observations, my overall experience has been okay..... enough of that....I could go on for a while...sticks and stones, gentlemen, sticks and stones.....


Speaking of orthopaedic problems, I neglected to mention (because I'm sure you were just dying to know) that my 10 week old ankle sprain is still giving me fits. It happened in January when I was minding my own business, walking to my car after work, and crossed a grassy patch b/c I couldn't get to my car the usual way secondary to the sheer number of roofers and their materials dispersed throughout the parking lot at the office (hurricane damage and all that)....So, I stepped right into a hole, and violently twisted my ankle....after I regained breath could not quite bear weight, so I called out for help and was met with the confused stare of a dozen or so non-English speaking workers....due to the temporary lack of blood flow and reasonable thought pattern to my brain at that particular moment, my spanish (which is rudimentary at best) escaped me, and I chose to go with the universal distress cry...OWWWWW....since apparently I do not inspire any chilvarous sentiments and and there is no cognate for "it freakin hurts," I mustered up enough strength to drag myself to my car...now I know how those people feel the last 50 yards or so of a marathon....it is getting better, but SLOWLY....and since I still have a rather unsightly cankle it may be difficult to get my foot in a regular shoe.....fortunately I'm so gracious and glamorous it won't matter.....:)
onward and upward
2 Cor 4:16-18