Turkeys

Had Thanksgiving at Team Crabtree's place last week. It was, mostly, delicious, and the time was, mostly, a good time. Wanted to share a few pictures. And hate on a dog.

First, the board. The central hub of organization and scheduling. Why Adam and Ashley have a gigantic white marker board I am not entirely sure, but it came in handy when we finally started preparing dinner at 1100. Plus how else would we have remembered to dress Spanky the Chihuahua?

Second, the fixins. After hours of labor -- Ashley's not mine -- we finally had ourselves some food. From top going clockwise we have the cooked parts of the turkey, the less cooked carcass of the turkey, "rolls", my attempt at some sort of candied yam thing, some tasty stuffing, mashed potatoes, green beans, creamed corn soup, and a ceramic bird full of gravy. All in all a good dinner aside from a continuous background chorus compliments of Sparky the Chihuahua.


And, lastly, the what the hell is this? If you guessed Nerf football cut in half and placed in a Pyrex baking dish you would be only partially correct. For reasons unknown squash was on the menu until a prolonged bake yielded this. A very comfortable bike seat. Due to unforeseen complications in preparation the squash was ditched in favor of eating Patsy the Chihuahua instead.

For more Thanksgiving photos including pictures of Cupcake the Corgi, Sushi the... some sort of dog, and Spunky the Chihuahua; check it out! The rest of the weekend was spent playing video games. Just as the Pilgrims did back in 1776.

He Eats Mostly Milkshakes

There are few joys in the life of an intern. One's days consist mostly of recording an endless sum of data, transcribing an endless number of notes, returning an endless stream of pages, and laboring endlessly in the hospital's endless bituminous coal mines. It is infrequent when one can smile and if you smile too long they call it mania and start you on depressants. One consistent joy, however, has always been stumbling upon the curiously written statements of other physicians. (Yes this is what goes for joy these days.)

For medical and legal reasons everything must be documented meticulously. Sometimes, however, well, there just ain't time to do it well. As a result well crafted statements succinctly conveying information are often replaced with whatever thought first enters the physician's mind which, to him at least, conveys what it is he's trying to convey. The vast majority of times this is sufficient. Some of the time, however, it just doesn't quite come out right.

In one recent event concerning an elderly, fatigued patient of ours, the consulted hematologist-oncologist wrote a quick one paragraph statement discussing the nature of the man's pancytopenia. After briefly describing the patient's signs and symptoms in the standard medical jargon he writes in a new sentence, plainly, "The patient states he eats mostly milkshakes." He was trying to convey that the patient was malnourished and so lacking in the vitamins necessary for adequate blood production, but all I could think was, "that is awesome. He really does enjoy his milkshakes." This was, incidentally, a miscommunication -- the patient had informed us earlier that though he did indeed love himself some milkshakes he actually ate microwave dinners from time to time as well -- but nevertheless that's what was recorded and that's what everyone will be forever reading when they go through his medical records. I can only imagine what will be recorded by future physician robots of me. Probably something like, "The patient states he eats mostly sandwiches. Patient perseverates on the idea that he makes quite possibly the best sandwiches in the world discussing the matter at length. Consider psych consult."

Speaking of eating nothing but milkshakes, my diet is actually not too entirely different right now. With no established lunch time and about 14 hours of work for an 11 hour day lunch is often cast aside and you eat what's nearby. Hopefully it's edible. For this last week it's been:

• Sunday: Half day, I made a sandwich. Possibly the best sandwich in the world.

• Monday: On call. 1100 ate some beef jerky. 1300 ate some dried strawberries. 1600 ate grilled cheese, fritos, and a Cherry Coke.

• Tuesday: Post call. 1400 made a sandwich. Possibly the best sandwich in the world.

• Wednesday: Off, I made a sandwich. Very likely the best sandwich in the world.

• Thursday: Normal work day. 1400 ate two bags of fritos and a 7Up.

• Friday: Normal work day. 1400 ate grilled cheese, chili mac, Ruffles, and a Barqs Root Beer.

And that's a good week. The pinnacle so far, however, has been the Tuesday prior when my lunch consisted entirely of a strawberry cupcake. At first I was worried I'd lose weight and become questionably anorexic, but it turns out the caloric intake of cupcakes is about the same as a regular meal. I'll just end up pancytopenic someday.

On a separate note. My long call last Friday resulted not in sixty new patients -- I cap at five new ones in most circumstances and so was done admitting new patients around 11:00 pm -- but it did have about sixty cross cover pages to take care of. I have been jinxed; I have been humbled.