Wet Underwear Day
When I was in college we had to write a process paper. It was all about how something happened. Like how did you make a peanut butter sandwich, or how did you get straight A's in all your classes, or how did you get the toilet clean (not one single guy in our class picked that one). It had to show a step wise process. Cause and effect. And there had to be multiple steps involved.
Like today. But the process of today started last week. Saturday was my birthday (anyone who hasn't sent a gift is highly encouraged to do so) and I never do laundry on my birthday. It's not like a moral rule or anything. It just has never come up in all my......uh.....26 years or so. I only had to be at the hospital until around 2pm that day, and then I went and bought myself a really yummy chocolate cake at Costco. It's a really big cake though and while I was chatting with the woman standing behind me in the check out line she mentioned that it was also her birthday. And since it was a really big cake we decided to split it. The bakery was kind enough to cut it in half and give us another container. She told me all about her family and how her 17 year old daughter had recently decided she was a lesbian and thought cocaine was 'way cool' and needed a little whiskey shot to get going in the morning. She said girls were much harder to raise than boys.
And then I picked up a couple of friends from the airport and made it to dinner with the fam---just about an hour late.
Sunday I was on call at the hospital. Technically it's only supposed to be a 30 hour shift, but sometimes it oozes over a little. I left at about 1:30 on Monday afternoon. And I was lucky. It was a good call shift. I only admitted 4 patients to the hospital and I got to sleep for almost three hours. Not all at once, but cumulatively. Not too shabby.
Driving home from the hospital, I felt wide awake. Almost even energetic. Usually post call I take a shower and go right to sleep. But Monday I hung out with my new roomie Loni--who moved in almost 2 weeks ago, is really nice and has already done the dishes more times than Rochelle did during the whole six months she lived here. Because I was so 'energetic' I decided to go for a run and then remind my friends that really it was my 'birthday month' so I was going to need presents every day during April. But I got kind of cold, so I took a hot shower instead. And then I got tired. And instead of doing all the things I planned on, I hung out with my friends and then fell asleep at about 8:30.
Tuesday was a short call day. Which if I'm lucky means I get out of the hospital by about 4 or so. But I wasn't so lucky. I admitted a guy who has heart failure. His symptoms have been getting worse lately and he was actually seen in the ER three weeks ago. They fixed his meds and sent him home when he was feeling better. But he's got a little drinking problem and sometimes he doesn't have the best reasoning skills. It made him really nervous that he was having more symptoms so when he left the ER he thought the best thing to do would be to stop taking all of his medications and start drinking more alcohol. In Psychiatry this is called 'poor insight'.
I signed out to one of the other doctors around 5pm. At 5:02 I got paged by one of the nurses. 'Mr. ----- in room 2c02 had a critical lab result'. Critically low red blood count. Dangit. I left a couple of hours later than I planned.
At this point it was critical to get the laundry done. I started the most important load and then fell asleep reading a new book. My roommates woke me up an hour later and I was just coherent enough to turn over and tell them to put my clothes in the dryer.
Usually I get up around 5 in the morning so I can make it to the hospital on time by six o clock. I'm always on time. Or just a little late. Or a little more late. But I always blame that on the traffic. And since I fell asleep before I planned on it, I didn't turn on my alarm clock. So I was pretty bummed at 5:50am when I opened my eyes and looked at the clock. DANGIT. I ran down stairs to get my clothes, only to find them wet on top of the dryer. Not dry IN the dryer like I was hoping for. ON TOP of the dryer. I'm pretty sure I didn't say 'please put my wet clean clothes on top of the dryer for the night'. But I was sleeping, so maybe... If I'd been up on time I could have dried them. But I wasn't. And I didn't have a choice. It was a wet underwear day. Luckily for me it decided to be freezing cold outside again today so I got the full effect of wet underwear.
I got to leave the hospital by 2pm today, and they were completely dry by then.
I just put the rest of my clothes in the dryer. I'm on call again tomorrow and I don't think wet underwear will add happiness and sunshine to my call day.
Like today. But the process of today started last week. Saturday was my birthday (anyone who hasn't sent a gift is highly encouraged to do so) and I never do laundry on my birthday. It's not like a moral rule or anything. It just has never come up in all my......uh.....26 years or so. I only had to be at the hospital until around 2pm that day, and then I went and bought myself a really yummy chocolate cake at Costco. It's a really big cake though and while I was chatting with the woman standing behind me in the check out line she mentioned that it was also her birthday. And since it was a really big cake we decided to split it. The bakery was kind enough to cut it in half and give us another container. She told me all about her family and how her 17 year old daughter had recently decided she was a lesbian and thought cocaine was 'way cool' and needed a little whiskey shot to get going in the morning. She said girls were much harder to raise than boys.
And then I picked up a couple of friends from the airport and made it to dinner with the fam---just about an hour late.
Sunday I was on call at the hospital. Technically it's only supposed to be a 30 hour shift, but sometimes it oozes over a little. I left at about 1:30 on Monday afternoon. And I was lucky. It was a good call shift. I only admitted 4 patients to the hospital and I got to sleep for almost three hours. Not all at once, but cumulatively. Not too shabby.
Driving home from the hospital, I felt wide awake. Almost even energetic. Usually post call I take a shower and go right to sleep. But Monday I hung out with my new roomie Loni--who moved in almost 2 weeks ago, is really nice and has already done the dishes more times than Rochelle did during the whole six months she lived here. Because I was so 'energetic' I decided to go for a run and then remind my friends that really it was my 'birthday month' so I was going to need presents every day during April. But I got kind of cold, so I took a hot shower instead. And then I got tired. And instead of doing all the things I planned on, I hung out with my friends and then fell asleep at about 8:30.
Tuesday was a short call day. Which if I'm lucky means I get out of the hospital by about 4 or so. But I wasn't so lucky. I admitted a guy who has heart failure. His symptoms have been getting worse lately and he was actually seen in the ER three weeks ago. They fixed his meds and sent him home when he was feeling better. But he's got a little drinking problem and sometimes he doesn't have the best reasoning skills. It made him really nervous that he was having more symptoms so when he left the ER he thought the best thing to do would be to stop taking all of his medications and start drinking more alcohol. In Psychiatry this is called 'poor insight'.
I signed out to one of the other doctors around 5pm. At 5:02 I got paged by one of the nurses. 'Mr. ----- in room 2c02 had a critical lab result'. Critically low red blood count. Dangit. I left a couple of hours later than I planned.
At this point it was critical to get the laundry done. I started the most important load and then fell asleep reading a new book. My roommates woke me up an hour later and I was just coherent enough to turn over and tell them to put my clothes in the dryer.
Usually I get up around 5 in the morning so I can make it to the hospital on time by six o clock. I'm always on time. Or just a little late. Or a little more late. But I always blame that on the traffic. And since I fell asleep before I planned on it, I didn't turn on my alarm clock. So I was pretty bummed at 5:50am when I opened my eyes and looked at the clock. DANGIT. I ran down stairs to get my clothes, only to find them wet on top of the dryer. Not dry IN the dryer like I was hoping for. ON TOP of the dryer. I'm pretty sure I didn't say 'please put my wet clean clothes on top of the dryer for the night'. But I was sleeping, so maybe... If I'd been up on time I could have dried them. But I wasn't. And I didn't have a choice. It was a wet underwear day. Luckily for me it decided to be freezing cold outside again today so I got the full effect of wet underwear.
I got to leave the hospital by 2pm today, and they were completely dry by then.
I just put the rest of my clothes in the dryer. I'm on call again tomorrow and I don't think wet underwear will add happiness and sunshine to my call day.
posted by M @ 2:40 PM
3 Comments:
At 2:45 PM,
Holly said…
Hi Amy,
I hope you don't mind that I eavesdropped on your life. Two thoughts:
1. I have absolutely no reason to complain about my job.
2. Wet underwear, eeewwww
Oh, wait:
3. Happy Birthday!
At 10:29 AM,
Penny said…
I think I'd probably pick going commando over wearing wet underwear... =)
At 2:28 PM,
pWh, hJh, nKh said…
I'd grab a swimsuit instead. That's what my three-year-old did today. Not that she didn't have clean underwear. She did--but I told her we would be going swimming and then unfortunately it didn't work out. But she already had them on and it seemed like adding insult to injury to tell her she couldn't go swimming AND she had to take her swimsuit off. She's still hoping we will go today. So am I.
Louisa
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