Thursday, July 24, 2014

Best. Call. Ever.

Wake up at 3:22 am to the sound of a dog howling. Get her calmed down.

4:00, decide sleep was no longer an option. Boot up computer to goof off. Hear a wet farting sound behind me to see a dog having a diarrheal episode. Throw her outside, where she has more and then wipes her butt on the grass. Turn around to realize that I've locked myself out of the house. Get into the garage, banging leg against lawnmower. Find the lightswitch so I can find the #$%&^%^^*$##$@$$%&^% key.

Let myself back into the house and let the dog back in. Gather supplies to clean up living room. Enter living room to find our dipshit lab trying to EAT the mess. Start yelling and wake the husband up (again). I'm dry heaving as I'm cleaning up the mess. He takes over. I go into kitchen to find coffee.

At 7 am, decide that dozing sounds like a great idea...The newest dog jumps into bed. Fine. Until she pees on the bedspread. FML.

By this time, I've decided that I'm just going to sleep on OB from now on.

Friday, July 18, 2014


For friends who let me text and email to bitch about life in general.

For office days where every single patient is nice and sane.

For two terrific kids.

For a husband who is my rock.

For reasons to celebrate - weddings and babies are on the calendar (not for me, obviously...)

Saturday, July 5, 2014

A rewrite of Abba's Dancing Queen

You can cut, You can sew,
Having the time of your life
See that girl, watch that scene, digging the Section Queen.

Friday night and the lights are low
Looking out for the place to go
When they stop dilatin'
And the heart tones go
Waaay too low.

You are the Section Queen, Not needing sleep, cutting seventeen!
Section Queen, working with the breathing machine.
You can cut, you can sew, having the time of your life
See that girl, scrub that skin, digging the Section Queen.

Wednesday, June 25, 2014


Doctors are THE WORST FUCKING PATIENTS!!!!! And for once, the patient is not me.

I need my head examined when scheduling fibroidy uteri for removal.

Writing eulogies is hard & I suck.

The house is really quiet without the boy running around (he's at summer camp this week).

I am never going to California again.

I don't even want to know how much I've spent on airline tickets the last few months.

Shit, I now own 2 homes again.

I need to go to the casino - I figure I should have good luck, regression to the mean and all.

I did NOT need the van conking out last week. I don't have time for that shit.

Friday, May 30, 2014

Some thoughts

Yesterday was a decent enough day in the office. Lots of OB visits. Cute siblings bragging about "their" baby. Talking about birth control with some postpartum patients. Nothing unusual. I tell my patients when everything is fine: "You're boring." I said that a lot yesterday.

Boring is good. Boring means that things are going the way they are supposed to go. Boring means healthy moms, healthy babies. Boring means I may not know your name until 37ish weeks. THAT IS NOT A BAD THING!!!!!! Nonboring means I'm having the pre-eclampsia discussion at 33 weeks. Talking to you about scheduling a version versus a section. Sending you to the ultrasound room because I haven't found heart tones with the doppler.

Trust me, you want to be boring. And quite frankly, I'm too old for non-boring. Excitement is not a good thing in medicine.

Thursday, May 15, 2014


One of my dearest friends texted me recently. Her mother died after being in Hospice for a few weeks. My partner's dad just died. On Facebook, announcements of various teachers' obits are a regular on my newsfeed. I'm waiting for my mother to finally pass.

That's what being a 40-something is. We're staring at the realization that soon we'll be the oldest in the family. That we can't ask those ahead of us what to do. I look through our wedding album, only to realize that quite a few are now gone. Aunts, uncles, family friends. The giants from the past now exist only in our mind.

If that's being a grown up, take me back.