Hurricane Jill

Hurricane Jill regrets the error

The date for the post “Not a moment too soon” has been changed to June 8. Apparently delayed publication on WordPress works differently than it does on Blogger.   On the old site, when you saved a post and published it later, the date remained that on which the post was created.  Which I like, as it gives a better sense of continuity for the overall narrative of this blog.

Apparently WordPress changes it to the date you decide to publish it.  Which I don’t like.  Future delayed posts will be dated according to when they were created.

A new treasure trove of funnies

Those of you with PhDs, or who have friends with PhDs, will enjoy this site.

Cyberstalking

So, the agenda for today: lots and lots of reading.  On the chairman’s recommendation, I’m skipping all the watered down neurosurgical texts and diving right into that 5000-plus page behemoth known as Youmans Neurological Surgery.  And ominously, the first thing that struck me about it was the brevity and precision of the writing. Continue Reading Cyberstalking…

Of course.

The week before I’m scheduled to start here, not one, but two(!) actual PGY-2 residency spots pop up on my radar.

I knew this was all going far too smoothly to be the whole story.  Well, no matter. For at least one of the two, I’m sure there are plenty of PGY2’s currently in residency already who would jump ship at a moment’s notice to transfer there.  And the other was posted much more visibly, which means they should get plenty of applications as well.

As for me, I’m not really sure what’s the right thing to do.  I like it here, but what kind of person passes up an actual residency position to be a pre-clinical fellow?  Either someone not very smart, or not very serious about becoming a neurosurgeon.

Randomness

Today’s post will be a grab-bag of random thoughts.

First of all, my kitten is clearly in the middle of the Terrible Twos.  Everything is a toy.  All food is cat food.  Playtime is 10pm to 6am.  Chomping on human body parts is a sign of love.  And apparently things that are Not OK and she gets sprayed with water for at one point, might suddenly become OK at some later point.

Despite that, she is obviously a smart cat.  I bought this toy for her that consists of a pole with a piece of string tied to it, and at the other end of the string is tied a feathery-thing.  When I first got her, she would play with the feathery thing.  But then one day I saw her look at the feathery thing, notice that it was attached to a string and visually follow the string back to the pole, and the pole back to my hand.  And now my hand is the toy.  Time for plan B.

Another thing that’s bugging me:  where the hell is the outgoing mail box?  I’ve looked everywhere, and I can’t find it.  The welcome packet has useful information about everything else, like where the switch is that coverts the bath to a shower, where my breaker box is, what I can recycle and when trash day is.  But about outgoing mail?  Nada.

So I just put my outgoing mail in my incoming mailbox, with the stamps on the side where you can see them once you open the box.  Hopefully the mailman will either pick them up, or take pity on me and leave some instructions on how to send mail from here.

Maybe we should just eat these cakes

Courtesy of a friend via Facebook:

Cakewrecks!

Good for an old-fashioned laugh-until-you-cry-and/or-can’t breathe-anymore session.  Although you do have to get past the Michael Jackson tribute before it gets truly funny.

9 days

As you may have gathered, I’m trying to avoid giving away too much information about my location these days.  My reasons are entirely selfish. Continue Reading 9 days…

Fellowship City

Well, as you can tell from this post, my computer is back up and running. Which also means that the Desk From Hell has been successfully reassembled. Continue Reading Fellowship City…

I ain’t missing you at all, pharmacy

It’s moving day, and I’m seriously considering going right back to bed and sleeping until tomorrow. Continue Reading I ain’t missing you at all, pharmacy…

Not a moment too soon

In less than 48 hours, my stuff will be on its way to Fellowship City. I still can’t quite wrap my mind around it.

–Don’t get me wrong, I haven’t neglected to coordinate all the required details on both ends. All of that’s been set for a week now.

It’s just that I’m continuing to work right up till moving day. So the move has always been several “things” away, and I don’t feel its proximity at all. Plus my mind is still in pharmacist mode, and hasn’t yet shifted back into doctor mode.

I downloaded a bunch of podcast lectures about critical care and neurosurgery, for an auditory review while I’m driving. But it seems pointless to listen to them until I’m done with my pharmacy shifts. It would have been so nice just to cancel all the shifts, but I really do need the money.

In fact, it would have been better to stay another week and be that much more ahead of the game financially. But, truth be told, one more week of retail pharmacy and I might have gone postal. Ten hours a week is a nice break, but 40 hours a week, week after week after week, will crush your soul.

— Really, I don’t know where the milk is; perhaps you should ask someone who specializes in groceries, not medications.

Actually, I don’t even answer those questions. If it’s not a medication related question, I just stare at them like they’re speaking a foreign language. It’s passive-aggressive, I know, but my other option is to be rude, which is gratifying in the short term but has delayed adverse effects.

Which reminds me: I also find it professionally insulting when whatever associate-degree clerk who’s in charge of the rest of the store that day questions my judgment about whether to fill a controlled substance prescription or not. My response in a situation like that is usually along the lines of: “The district pharmacy manager is welcome to come in here and fill that prescription under her own license if she wants. But I’m not going to fill it, and frankly, I doubt she will either.” This, accompanied by the most baleful look I can muster.

I mean, there’s approximately zero chance that the store’s twit-in-charge will have anything relevant to contribute on the subject of filling that script or not. But it irritates me that the store management thinks it’s even remotely appropriate to try and intervene.

Thank God for low humidity

We’ve reached the time of year here when it gets light around 4:30am, and gets dark again around 9:30-10pm.   It’s a nice time to be a surgeon, since you get to go to work in the daylight, and enjoy a few hours of it when you get home in the evening. Continue Reading Thank God for low humidity…