Work then no work, food, a cop, Bruce, internet, this

I have no sensible reason for writing today when I so rarely do anymore. Eh.

Yesterday morning I called my boss to see if they needed more staff for Tuesday night. She enthusiastically agreed so I went in at 10:45 PM. Normally a shift starts at 6:45 PM but I wanted extra sleep and to watch So You Think You Can Dance (yes, I watch that great show and will defend it vociferously). I get to work and my boss failed to add me to the schedule. As we were overstaffed anyway—why did she said she needed me?—they won't let me work "overtime". It isn't overtime as I was out sick last week, but the lunkheads in scheduling cannot understand the concept of working extra this week to make up for being out last week (shakes lowered head in defeat).

On the walk home from the light rail station (we have that here and it's great), I stopped at Katz's to eat. My lunch was in my bag, but coffee and noodle kugel exerted a siren song I was unable to resist, there being no ship's mast available to which I could lash myself. Satiated, I continued home only to be lectured by a cop. It went something like this, my thoughts in brackets:

Me: [OK, cop car slowly coasting to a stop sign, I'm good to cross. Uh, is he gonna just roll through the sign and consequently me?! Way to set an example police officer. OK, let it go and just walk on.]

Cop: "Hey...hey! Come here.

Me: [What is *this* bullshit?]

Cop: That was dangerous man. I know you have the right of way, but I almost didn't see you and this car is 3000 pounds and you'd lose that fight. If I was you I'd at least make eye contact when you cross the street to make sure I see you.

Me: [It's dark and your headlights are creating glare so I can't see inside the car, while I am clearly lit. And how does searching for your eyes prevent you from running me over?] You were slowing down for the stop sign.

Cop: I'm looking over here (points) because there was an accident here earlier and I didn't see you.

Me: [Ah, so in your refuse-to-be-accountable mind, my not anticipating that you'd be distracted and therefore ignore street signs and what's right in front of you is somehow my fault. I need to get out of here right now.] OK.

Cop: (more lecturing consisting of what he's already said in various combinations) If I was you, I'd be more careful.

Me: OK. (turning to walk on, burning with anger, and fighting the impulse to shout "If I was you, Officer, I wouldn't blame pedestrians for my inattention and law-breaking. You know, if I was you.")

The part that make it tolerable in retrospect was that a drunk guy at the adjacent bar was catcalling the officer during the entire exchange. I really should have gone back to at least acknowledge his enthusiastic defense of me.

When I got home, I amused myself mightily by looking up the words and guitar chords to Bruce Springsteen's "Dancing in the Dark" and playing it in fast waltz time. If I transpose it into a minor key, ditch the signature keyboard line, add viola, and sing it in a Tom Waits-ian growl, it will likely wipe out the optimism of the narrator, transforming him into a defeated, sarcastic bastard. I'm thrilled to give it a try. In the video, instead of being pulled onto the stage to awkwardly dance, Courtney Cox is stared like it's all *her* fault until she bursts into tears and runs out.

Unfortunately (for me, Bruce, the world) a cursory reading of one website's Best of the Year/Decade lists turned into a multi-hour timesuck and nothing else was accomplished this night. Except for this post.

UPDATE: On his website, Bruce Springsteen has posted his support for marriage equality in New Jersey. Yay Bruce.

Birthday Karaoke, The Hidden Cameras at Emo's 11/14

What a glorious intersection of events this weekend contained. I traveled up to Austin on Friday for Margaret's initial birthday festivities which consisted of dinner, bowling, and karaoke at The Highball. Dinner was good and reasonably priced, bowling was great (beautiful, vintage lanes rescued from New Orlean's Rock and Bowl), and karaoke in the Xanadu room was...enthusiastically drunken? Tipsily cacophonous? The highlight for me was witnessing three inebriated lovelies blast through the birthday girl's titular song, "This Corrosion" by Sisters of Mercy. The word committed (both definitions) comes to mind.

Saturday afternoon, friends came together again for Margaret Birthday Party, Chapter II at the Carousel Lounge. Karaoke Apocalypse, whom I highly recommend, backed us up as our already raw throats were again put to the test. I feel I acquitted myself well on Heart's "Alone", but missed the mark a bit on The Cure's "In Between Days". Next time I'll tackle Devo's "Uncontrollable Urge". The band was fantastic, well-rehearsed and very supportive of the singers. I headed home early and exhausted to catch a nap before heading out that night to see one of my favorite bands, The Hidden Cameras.

It was their third time in town and I was ready to enjoy the show, but not be blown away mostly because they'd set the bar so high when they played SXSW several years ago. Still, I quickly was into it, dancing and singing along with the small, but loyal audience. After a great main set, they tore it up in the encore. For the last song, they once again pulled people up on stage to play tambourine, me included. So much fun to bang out the beat on a crowded stage hyped up on great audience energy.

Setlist:
Ratify the New
Follow These Eyes
Pencil Case
Heji/Bboy
Mind, Matter and Waste
Death of a Tune
Hump From Bending
Kingdom Come
Fear Is On
Walk On
A Miracle
Zine
Doot Doot Plot/Do I Belong/In the NA
The Little Bit/Underage/Silence Can Be a Headline

Encore:
Breathe On It
Smells Like Happiness
Music Is My Boyfriend



This night will live in my memory not for just the band's performance, but for a very enjoyable post-show outing that was facilitated by several very cool people. Laura, Lief, and especially John, thank you so much.

Colbert praises Alpha Dog nurse

Just watch and enjoy.

The Colbert Report	Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c
Alpha Dog of the Week - Betty Lichtenstein
www.colbertnation.com
Colbert Report Full Episodes Political Humor Meryl Streep

Now I have to call my Aunt and Uncle who live in Norwalk, CT.

Patients, like customers, are not always right

Are you familiar with the website Not Always Right? I just became aware of it a week ago and have been making my way through their massive archive of retail hell stories that seek to "level the playing field for those of us who toil and sweat every day trying to juggle demanding customers and often unreasonable corporate expectations." Pretty funny stuff and I recommend it, though if you read too much in one sitting your contempt for humanity might poison your soul a bit.

I wish it had been around when I was working at a certain large electronics chain in the music/DVD/video game department. It would have soothed. Once after closing, encouraged by my co-workers, I performed a rant about customers being confused or even angered by the concept of alphabetizing which ended with me making the case for tearing out all the CD racks, digging a giant hole, and dumping in the CDs just so we could say things like, "Oh I think there's a rich vein of Celine Dion thereabouts."

That reminds me of the time that a middle-aged guy came up to me with a vague request for mood music. After a couple failed attempts to find what I thought he was looking for, Windham Hill-type music or cool jazz was what everyone else wanted, he leaned in close to me and murmured, "Mood music, you know, like for sex?" More than a little put off, and being the snarky little music snob I was, I marched over to the compilations section and put an Excursions in Ambience volume in his hands nodding portentously. Sure I was messing with him, but in all honesty, I think Seefeel, Air, and Spacetime Continuum provide a great soundtrack for doing it.

Anyway, I was especially excited/trepidacious to come across several medical stories on Not Always Right.

Story 1
Story 2
Story 3
Story 4
Story 5
Story 6

That last one reminded me of my patient who had had their aorta repaired just the day before. Since it was the part of the aorta that passes by and supplies blood to the stomach and intestines, she was NPO (no eating or drinking). She asked for ice chips and I explained that she couldn't have any.

"Your digestive system is not up to speed yet and taking in fluid could cause nausea and vomiting might cause your repair to bleed."

"The last nurse let me have ice chips!"

"Well she shouldn't have. The doctor has ordered nothing by mouth, I'm bound to follow his orders, and I've explained why it's detrimental to your health."

"But I've already had ice today," she whined loudly.

I told her politely but firmly that she could wet her mouth with oral swabs, but no more ice. What I really wanted to say was,

"Do you really want to risk massive internal bleeding for the ephemeral treat of ice chips?! Would you let your child eat candy until they writhed on the floor with a searing stomach ache just because Grandma let them go hog wild on a bag of Jolly Ranchers? Lady, get your priorities straight."

I like my patients, but sometimes...

HawthoRNe, not improving

I finally got around to watching the 2nd episode of HawthoRNe. The fact that it sat on my Tivo for two weeks, and that I forgot to record the 3rd ep, tells us both that I wasn't looking forward to it all that much. Still, I said I'd stick with it for at least two more episodes.

"Healing Time" has a couple of name guest stars in Cloris Leachman and Malcom-Jamal Warner. Ms. Leachman's subplot, about a cantakerous, demanding patient who abuses the nursing staff led to a nice little speech by title character Christina Hawthorne, "Nurses are not servants. They are professionals. They should be treated with respect." Right on, superladynurse on a mission! No seriously, I loved that.

Warner's subplot was much worse in it's sentimentality, unrealistic medicine, and giant ethical no-no. He played a man with a cerebral aneurysm that initially caused decreased level of consciousness and impaired mentation (believable) that caused him to think Hawthorne was his wife (dubious), which she did not refute and in fact "used" to comfort him (not cool at all). Later when the doctors offer him with two treatment options—why they were asking him, a man they know cannot provide informed consent rather than his wife who's already been called by phone, is left unexplored—and the patient defers to his "wife's" judgement, she still acts the part and gives her opinion. Massive ethical violation, off-the-charts lose-your-license kind of violation. Boo superladynurse. Booooo.

So then...uh, no I've completely lost interest in continuing. Suffice to say the writing is still treacly, the humor tepid, the direction and acting pedestrian. If the next ep is equally as poor, I won't bother to write it up. Fingers crossed!

Simpsons + monkey ≠ Mr. Teeny, at least in this case

Before I tell a couple stories from work, I have to explain that in medicine, D/C means discontinue. So when a doctor writes "d/c heparin", it means "stop administering the medication heparin from now on." OK, now that's defined.

The other night at work I went over to talk to a colleague and was startled by her patient's severe jaundice. I blurted, "She looks like a Simpsons character."

Thankfully the patient was sedated and didn't catch my rude comment. Later, the nurse came up to me, "After you left, I kept trying to think of which person on The Simpsons she looks like. Then I realized you meant all of them."

The same night another patient's chest tubes were draining a copious amount of clotting blood. The nurse had to manipulate the tubes frequently to ensure the blood passed into the collection chamber instead of clogging the tubes. It's rather mindless work and takes away from other aspects of patient care, but it's still necessary to perform. I suggested that a trained monkey with dextrous hands would really free her up, "Dressed up in little scrubs just squeezing and twisting away."

"And possibly making a mess I'd have to clean up, not to mention the chattering and infection risk," she countered, "In the morning Dr. Never Smiles would come by, annoyed, and write d/c monkey!"

You may disagree, but at 4 AM, "d/c monkey" is very, very funny. I ended up in tears stifling my laughter so I wouldn't wake the patients.

Houston Pride Parade & intermittent dance party

I really had no excuse not to attend the parade since A) it happens at night when I'm awake anyway and B) the parade route is one block away from my apartment. Plus at least once a year I like to see my peoples all glittery and stuff. Unfortunately there was what I consider to be a serious dearth of glitter/feather/hi NRG silliness. Too many staid oil company employees and church groups, not enough gyrating. Also, I didn't check my camera batteries before I walked out the door and so no pictures.

The highlights for me were:

- PFLAG, cause parents in their 50s, 60s, and 70s marching in support their gay kids is a beautiful sight to see

- Lesbians Over Age Fifty, or LOAFers mostly because of the awesome elderly lady waving out the window of the car. I know it's wrong to infantalize old folks, but she was adorable and inspiring.

- The Asians & Friends group who all held giant Hello Kitty head placards. Kawaii indeed.

Afterwards, I met up with some Austin friends for an intermittent dance party. No one had the energy to stay out on the floor the whole time, so intermittent it was. Yay for poorly conceived "sexy" photos, putting a certain inebriated lady to bed, and fantasizing about band reunions (Smiths, Jawbreaker, Archers of Loaf, Afghan Whigs).