I have been scalped!

So, my roots had gotten pretty bad - you know trailer-park bad. I had the weekend off, so I decided girl grooming should ensue. I am a slow learner. I ended up blond because I went to have my haircut and colored post call. Yet off I went to the "teaching" salon for my post call hair cut. In my defense - the "different" looks that I got in the past were somewhat agreed upon by me. I would at least in my sleep deprived haze say something along the lines of "do whatever you like". I did not say that this time. In fact, I distinctly recall telling the butcher that hacked at my hair that I was mainly there to get my roots touched up. I really liked the hair cut that I had gotten the time before and only wanted a trim. I asked if she could just take the dead ends off the back, and shorten my bangs.

Needless to say, that is not what happened. I have NO hair left. It is horribly short and I did not want short hair. My issues with short hair are many. First, I have had long hair my ENTIRE life. Shoulder length was a walk on the wild side for me. I only went that short because of Oprah saying women my age should not have long hair. Secondly, I have a very round face. Skinny or overweight, my face is a perfect circle. Circle faces do not do short cuts. A fact touted in every fashion magazine. Third, short hair actually requires a lot of work. I can't wake up late and throw this hair into a pony tail. It isn't long enough to pull back. Also, as an ironic aside, my stick straight hair now has an annoying tendency to curl up on the ends. Without help, my hair does a Jackie-O thing in the back, and curls under in the front. This is not a simple easy to care for cut.

I have considered extensions, but I shutter at the idea of "fake Britney hair". I have already added extra protein to my diet to try to make it grow faster. To be completely fair, I do like the color. It is less gold and shiny which is good for the fall. If I ever get enough nerve to go back for a hair cut - many months from now - I will be finding a real hairstylist. Enough school for me. You should all be thankful that you live far away and do not have to see this atrocity everyday. I have covered my mirrors. I will check back in a couple of weeks.

Happy Birthday to my friend Bree :). She turns 30 today. Welcome to the best decade of your life. (Not sure I believe it yet, but it is what I am supposed to say). All honesty, hope you had a great day.

Man eat Meat world

I was the only girl in my "Intern class" my first year of general surgery. There was another female resident (Buffy - Urology intern), but she had bigger balls than any of the guys. Since I knew no one when I moved to Augusta, I spent a lot of my first year hanging with the guys. Spending "guy time" is a job hazard. I am not a huge fan of action movies, steakhouses and sporting events, but spent a good portion of my first year of general surgery doing those exact things. Luckily, Kris moved to Augusta to marry Bassam, Amy, Jill and Darlene all became residents and I was able to transition back over to being a girl.

I was able to skip this whole "guy time" for the most part when I moved to Nashville. I already had girlfriends there (Kris had deserted me for Nashville two years prior), and we had a lot of really cool NPs and RNs that I quickly started hanging out with there. I have not been so lucky here. I have met quite a few of the nurses - and we do go out to dinner and shopping, but every other women in the world my age is married, so the "new bonding" time is limited. Therefore, I find myself hanging with the guys more and more. Interestingly they are also mostly married, but seem less concerned about losing "home time." This is what brings me to my latest story.

Danny, the first year cardiac surgery fellow on our team had a birthday on Wednesday. Phil, the second year thoracic fellow on our team had a birthday today. Therefore, we decided we should all go out to dinner and celebrate their birthdays. A place and day were picked and off we went. The restaurant was Fogue de Chao. This restaurant for those of you who have never been is a Brazilian steakhouse. I had never been, but heard that it was good. So the premise is that you go to your table and sit down. A waitress comes by and points to the salad bar - an impressively large and elaborate central portion of the restaurant. She then tells you about the coaster system. Next to your place setting is a red coaster that says simply stop. On the other side it is green and says go. You are instructed that once you are completed with your salad course you should turn your coaster to go. Magically and at quite a rapid pace, men carrying large skewers of various meat start arriving at your table. When you need a rest or are truly finished you simply turn the coaster back over.

Let's just say that I am now considering becoming a vegetarian. Too much meat. Don't get me wrong, the food was quite tasty, but it was overwhelming. (We all know how I get with an overabundance of choices.) I was a wimp and turned my coaster after a slice of sirloin, chicken leg and a small piece of fillet wrapped in the most amazing bacon I have ever tasted. The three guys at my table however took this dinner as a personal challenge. I have never seen so much food consumed at one setting in my life - and I am Southern. I still feel full just thinking about the dinner. I really need to get more girlfriends.

Currently watching the weather news. Keeping Texas in my prayers. Hopefully it will not be as bad as they are predicting.

Things you will never see on Gray's Anatomy

Well, it is official - I had one of the worse call days EVER. Now I should explain. Call days can be bad for lots of reasons - pesky phone calls from nurses, sick ICU patients, busy consult service, emergency surgery. None of those things happened to me yesterday - we did do a lung transplant, but I'll come back to that in a minute. I arrived early yesterday morning, rounded quickly on my service and went to the call room and read. I got one patient phone call, but had a quite ICU. Things were going nicely.

I ran to the cafeteria for lunch - had a chicken vegetable medley - less than scrumptious, but would consider passable for hospital food. I went back to the call room and was actually watching some TV. Found out that a lung transplant was coming in so got geared up and went to the operating room. Now things took a decidedly wrong turn.

When I first got to the operating room I felt fine. I had been a little dizzy when I first stood up, but that is fairly normal for me. They had the OR sweltering while we were waiting on news that the lungs were usable, but since I am usually cold it shouldn't have been a big deal. We g0t the news that the lungs are good so we started. Almost immediately upon scrubbing in I start to feel really nauseated. I mean REALLY nauseated. I play all my mental games while I am in the operating room to take my mind off things I don't have time to think about (we all have them - otherwise you couldn't wait 14 hours between peeing). Nothing was working. Finally, I quietly excuse myself from the table and go to the bathroom and throw up. I shrug it off as a combination of the room temperature and my lunch, but need to get back to the OR so don't give it much thought.

Scrub back in and about 15 minutes pass. We have reached a very crucial portion of the case. We are preparing to cannulate the aorta and go on bypass. Not exactly a great time to leave the table. At least that is the argument I have with myself when I start feeling very nauseated again. I break out in a cold sweat and can see stars. I am still trying to hold it together for the cannulation. There is a hole in the aorta, cannula placed - I ask my attending to hold it for a minute. I then promptly turn away from the table and get sick in the trash can. Incredibly embarrassing. Fortunately I have no time to dwell on it. I walk out to the sink, change mask, wash my hands and scrub back in to the case.

This was the next four hours of my life. I would feel great for about 15 minutes and then have to throw up. Luckily, Philip was able to scrub me out once he returned with the lungs and I was able to spend most of this time in the call room, but altogether not the highlight of my training so far. Feeling much better now. Abdomen is sore from the retching, but thankfully nausea has passed. I bet then never show that on House or Gray's Anatomy.

My South

My mom sent me this - it is by a Mississippian named Robert St John



I am always amused by Hollywood's interpretation of the South. We are still, on occasion, depicted as a collective group of sweaty, stupid, backwards-minded, racist rednecks. The South of movies and TV, the Hollywood South is not my South.

This is my South:

My South is full of honest, hardworking people. My South is the birthplace of blues and jazz, and rock n' roll. It has banjo pickers and fiddle players, but it also has BB King, Muddy Waters, the Allman Brothers, Emmylou Harris and Elvis.

My South is hot. My South smells of newly mowed grass. My South was kick the can, creek swimming, cane-pole fishing and bird hunting.

In my South, football is king, and the Southeastern Conference is the kingdom.

My South is home to the most beautiful women on the planet.

In my South, soul food and country cooking are the same things.

My South is full of fig preserves, cornbread, butter beans, fried chicken, grits and catfish.

In my South, our transistor radios introduced us to the Beatles and the Rolling Stones at the same time they were introduced to the rest of the country.

In my South, grandmothers cook a big lunch every Sunday, so big that we call it dinner (supper comes later).

In my South, family matters, deeply.

My South is boiled shrimp, blackberry cobbler, peach ice cream, banana pudding and oatmeal cream pies.

In my South people put peanuts in bottles of Coca-Cola and hot sauce on almost everything.

In my South the tea is iced and almost as sweet as the women.

My South has air-conditioning.

My South is camellias, azaleas, wisteria and hydrangeas.

In my South, the only person that has to sit on the back of the bus is the last person that got on the bus.

In my South, people still say 'Yes, ma'am,' 'No ma'am,' 'Please' and 'Thank you.'

In my South, we all wear shoes... most of the time.

My South is the best-kept secret in the country.

Please continue to keep the secret... it keeps the idiots away.


Missing home today.

Time for a Job

Okay - today it is official - I am not sure how much longer I can stand being a resident. I have been a resident for MANY years, turns out too many years. When I thought about adding this extra "super" fellow year - I honestly thought piece of cake - I can do anything for 365 more days particularly if it means a fantastic career opportunity at the end.

I may have made a serious error in judgement. It turns out that a body and more importantly a mind can only tolerate so many years of residency. I reached my peak this AM. Unfortunately for me, I stayed at work all day. I may not have a job tomorrow, but I am not all that upset. This AM when Dr Cooper asked me why I didn't know where his first patient's films were located - mind you no one knew about his first patient but him (he added it late last PM after his clinic yesterday) - I smiled, apologized and went to his office and picked them up off his desk. However, this afternoon, when he was berating me about something for which I had no knowledge nor any responsibility - I lost it. I truly had had enough. I am 35 years old and pretty damn good at what I do - therefore, I find that I am no longer willing to take a lot of crap. As all my doctor friends understand, a LOT of crap taking is required to be a "good" resident. It never would have occurred to me 3 years ago to tell an Attending exactly what I think, but now I struggle to stop myself and did not today. I think that is a sign that enough is enough. I need a job.

Deserve a cookie if I was still eating sweets

Okay - maybe I really have turned over a new leaf. I came home after a really crappy day hungry and tired. Instead of sitting down in front of the TV, eating and making fun of the Republicans - three things guaranteed to make my day better - I changed into running shorts and went for a run. Granted, now that Calla isn't here, I went back to my run walk method, but I did it. I even signed up for a 5K in November.

Of course after my run, I was starved. I really really really wanted chocolate. I settled for a plain baked potato and a shower. My new incentive is the massage I have promised myself if I can drop 10 lbs.

Well, I have been good enough today. I am going to catch the end of Giuliana's speech and see if this Palin girl can actually speak, and yes some poking fun at the Republican's may happen.

I seem to be missing something

Okay - I'll be honest . . . I am missing something. I am sure there is a reason than John McCain selected Sarah Palin, but I can't figure our what it is. I know he needed someone young, and I know he needed a minority, but surely there were young minority Republicans that had less issues. I could really care less that her daughter is pregnant. Although a little piece of me wonders if the religious right would be so understanding and approving of a 17 year old unwed mother is she was a Democrat - can we say "family values".

I am a little confused about what Palin has to offer. She has been outside of the United States less times than I have. She lists as a major part of her Executive experience serving on the PTA - now I have no children, but when did the PTA become such a large organization in Alaska? I know that I am missing something - John McCain is a smarter politician than this choice seems to me. Why her?

Unrelated, Labor Day sucked. Hope you all had a better one. I operated ALL day. Did get a work-out in today, and tomorrow is another running day for me. I can now use my quads again so hopefully it will be a good run.