Sunshine Makes Me Wet

As in sweaty of course, all though... never mind. Yesterday was another scorcher and per usual I forgot to carry water, so while my legs were strong, the rest of my body was weak. Things are looking up or down weather wise in Portland. Whether it's up or down depends on your point of view. If you're a nutball like +Matt Campbell, you'll say up. I'm hoping for overcast but no rain.


Only three more days in this job. I could feel very strongly yesterday that I'm just done with this bullshit. I don't know if I told you this before, but my current place of employment caters to the rich and powerful - or at least they're powerful in their own minds. With that warped sense of self comes entitlement. Not all of our patients are like that, but the majority is. Yesterday's schedule was full of the latter. I've been tolerating this behavior before, even humored it, but yesterday I just couldn't take it. I found myself being short and not very friendly. Time to move on.


Me on Saturday

I'm meeting up with a friend on Friday after work and I really, really need it. Now that I'm done with this job I can shed some (not much) light on the comment I made about a certain police detective who turned out to be a major fuckboy. I met him by coincidence, as with most things in life. I won't go into details because it ended well for me, but let's just say he was a mindfuck of epic proportions and is probably one of the reasons some people have little to no faith in law enforcement. I seriously can't comprehend that people like him can even function in life. Much less serve and protect others. Oh, well, I'm done with that now.

I've lost a total of 16 lbs now so I'm a lean, mean biking machine. Watch out, Portland! Here I come!

The Final Countdown

This week marks the final countdown for a couple of things; it's my last week in this job and it's the week of RondePDX. As I've said before, the latter is probably what will lead to my demise. I told +Peter Warton that I'm about 70% sure I will die. He said he's 100% sure I'll be awesome. Thank you for having more faith in me than I do at the moment, but even if we split the difference, there's a chance I will die.

Speaking of dying. A lot of our patient have died lately. Relax, there's no angel of death at work but I guess that's par for the course when dealing with an elderly population. It's just sad. Here's a piece of advice for y'all - don't break your hip when you get old. That's how it all starts.


In honor of my patients

This weekend was wonderful and it seemed to go on forever, just like when I was a kid. I actually thought Friday was Sunday. That's how long it seemed. The weather was perfect and I got a lot done. Non-bike related but even so. I feel very productive because of it.

Five days to go...

Weekend Update

I didn't go to work yesterday. Turns out giving notice is enough to trigger a monster migraine.


When I gave notice I jokingly said to my boss that this would probably send my coworker into labor - and it did. Most likely completely unrelated but nonetheless, into labor she went yesterday.

My other coworker, the one that gets away with everything, is having a love fest with my boss this morning. In other words, business as usual. On that note, I am really trying not to leave this job with a bitter after taste, because I want to leave on a positive note. The thing is - there's nothing worse (job related) to be somewhere when you're mentally done.

The more I think about it, the happier I feel about my choice. I'm getting a little excited about the change of jobs - of course I might not be alive to start my new job considering RondePDX is next weekend. I haven't really trained any for this lunacy so it is what it is. Either I'm ready for it or I'm not.

'Round The Bend, Here I Come!

I don't like straight roads. Never have. I find them boring and predictable.

Unless you're on this road... who's to say what kind of bend we're talking here...

My life is now approaching a bend in the road. What's around it might be better, might be more of less the same, or it might be worse. Whatever it is, it will be exciting in and of itself because it's new. It's a change. The best part of it though is that I'm leaving primary care.

My new bike commute won't be as good, if one can call it a commute. Basically it will be down a hill, and I'm there. At least I get to bike uphill home. And, if I feel like it, I can always bike around the lake just to add some mileage. Easy fix.

I gave notice today. While this particular task is never fun (at least not when your employer is a good one), it was far less painful than anticipated. No drama and they wished me well. Phew!

I realize that my previous post was somewhat enigmatic and vague, but it's for a reason. I don't know where things are going to land currently and one of the things that I have going on in my life is a little tricky. I don't want to make a mountain of a molehill or make assumptions so for now I won't write about it.


I'm not in any trouble with the law. The detective I mentioned is of a personal nature and has nothing to do with legal issues.

What the change of jobs will mean for my online presence is that there will be far less of me here, but I will continue to write about my biking and other kinds of adventures.

Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

I hate being the bearer of bad news but today I am.

The thing is, I'm not as happy as I could be in my current job. Sure, I've left jobs before, but this one is particularly difficult because it's such as small place. Also, there's the fact that I'm the best they've ever had in this position. No, I'm not bragging, just stating the facts.


So now, as I sit here all alone, waiting for people to show up, I am dreading the conversation to be had. And I like the people here, I really do. This is actually the first place where I haven't actively disliked someone. But this is the best decision for me, and I have to look after myself before I care about my employer.

As I mentioned on Friday, my life is a little bit chaotic at the moment, which has to do with a lot of things but mostly a certain detective at the police department. And this is also why I think relocating is a smart thing to do.

On a positive note, my commute was again awesome. The asshat apparently got fired. Not on my account. My powers aren't that great. Sorry to disappoint.

Two down, Four To Go

I had interview one and two of four last Friday and was offered both jobs - which leaves me in several predicaments. I'll get to those shortly but first - interviews! They are the worst! I've been on both sides of the process and I get why there has to be form questions, but that doesn't mean they're not stupid.

Hall of fame:

What’s your greatest weakness?
Where do you see yourself in five years?
With all the talented candidates, why should we hire you?
If you were a [can of soup, species of animal, etc.] which one would you be?


After a change of jobs became a reality, I had a good think over the weekend. The thing is, I feel bad. I feel bad about wanting to leave. My manager is going out in maternity leave shortly and I know I will stress her out in a big way if I give notice now. She might go into premature labor because of it.

But the thing is, she isn't much of a manager. She's a good person but managing isn't her strong suit. Remember my coworker who gets away with murder? That shit is still going on strong and it's getting really old now.


Look, I know there really isn't such a thing as The Perfect Job, so what it comes down to is whether the positives outweigh the negatives. And in many ways, such is the case with my current job. The job in and of itself is a breeze. I could do it with my eyes closed. My coworkers are fine the majority of the time, I've never had a conflict with anyone here (they are way too passive aggressive anyway for that to happen), and they pay me well.

I'm full of First World problems these days, aren't I.

Speaking of problems, the rain is back.

After having biked in short sleeves however briefly, it was a little tough to return to full rain gear this morning. Fuck rule #5. It sometimes just sucks to ride my bike in pouring rain. My right knee has started hurting a little again, so I'm riding on an easier gear these days.

I also just missed the drug party in our building garage. I arrived just as the cops did their whole party pooper act and used handcuffs in the non-fun way on two of the party goers. Turns out our building garage is on the hot list of places to shoot up and party the night/life away in. Another benefit of biking to work: I'm never in the garage. I should add that to the list of benefits.

Tomorrow is my third interview for the Star Team.

Four Interviews And A Photo Shoot

I've been contemplating (not my navel) leaving my current job. Not because it's particularly awful. Lord knows I've had worse. It's just that I spend most of my time with little to nothing to do. To some people, having nothing to do probably sounds wonderful, and it was for a while but not anymore. Funny observation I've made along my professional way: the more you make, the less you have to work. I make more money now than I've ever made and I do far less than I've ever had to do.

So I stuck my toe in the water and got quite a few nibbles. I have four interviews lined up, but nothing is for sure yet. I may or may not stay where I am. Grass being/seeming greener and all that. Now, the grass might very well turn out to be greener, in which case I'm outta here.

First World Problem, you say? Yes, it does sound a bit like that, doesn't it. Pissing and moaning because I get paid a lot to do nothing. However, I hate not being busy. I need go be on the go and learn things. If I'm not mentally and physically challenged - just shoot me. In the face. And don't miss.

Cleaning toilets is a life long dream of mine! I'm so [something] I could die!

It's a hard knock life... but somebody's gotta do it (not me in the photo)

Speaking of photos, a few weeks ago I had some photos taken. The kind of photos one probably shouldn't post online unless one is seeking employment in the adult film industry. Well, I might be exaggerating a little because the photos aren't vulgar or anything. They are actually quite tasteful. At least I think they are. So why did I have this done? Relax, not planning a future in the other Silicon Valley. Needed a morale boost because I've been feeling a bit flabby lately.

If you've been contemplating doing boudoir, I know a great place. This gal does wonders with posing, lighting, and just making you feel at ease. Below are some of the photos from that session. Of me. Yes. 

Besides, it's not like I'm applying for a teaching job.

Thank You, Thank You, Thank You, Thank You!!!!

You guys rock!



Since my plea for help on raising funds for diabetes yesterday, you guys have helped me raise $81! That is nothing short of amazeballs! Thank you specifically to +Jessica Lucas and +Tim Moffatt. Is it coinsidence that the two of you share last names with two of the coolest people in the world - George Lucas and Steven Moffat? I think NOT. Jessica stalked me a little yesterday, but the good kind of stalking, the kind of stalking that helps the world.

I still need help reaching my goal of $200 (or more) so anything you can do will help - even if it's a dollar. I will not accept kittens, puppies, or food. Just money. American dollars. Again, you can donate here.

To thank you, I'm giving you this:



Granted, he's not on my list but he's not exactly hideous and I probably wouldn't turn him down should he throw himself on me. Just saying. I wouldn't stalk him or anything, nor name any bike of mine after him, but I bet he looks sexy-sad and that's hard to turn down.

Sexy-sad = sad puppy eyes + rockin' body + great hair

The commute in today was great! I finally outbiked my arch nemesis! Yeay! I encountered him at 164th and Newport as he came huffing and puffing up Newport as I came down the 164th hill. Our eyes met and IT WAS ON. I reached the three way stop first, zoomed left on Newport and kept a steady but not super fast pace up the rest of Newport, down 153rd, left on 38th, got lucky with the light at 150th, didn't even have to shift up the small incline by Chevron, and didn't see him again as I turned right at 152nd Pl and he continued down towards Factoria.

In other words, it wasn't much of a race. But it kinda was, and I won. Suck on that, arch nemesis!

The intern is back. Sigh, but I armed myself with plenty of this:

As a bonus it helps release stubborn pet hair

Should be a good day.

These Are A Few Of My Favorite Things - And Things That Are Not

Yes, there's another version of this...

I love drawing blood.

I'm good at it. No. I'm great at it. Probably the best in the Northwest. The more challenging the draw is, the better. I volunteer to do blood draws as often as I can. I eye people's veins. Random people. Back when we were learning how to do labs, I used to drool over hubby's veins to the point where he would tell me to get away from him.

Funny how life works. Not "ha ha" funny.

Not funny like this

I used to be terrified of needles. I hated having my blood drawn or getting injections. Now I don't mind at all. Having had 30 of my fellow students practice on me cured me of that phobia real fast.

It's not the blood I like. I'm not some weirdo aspiring vampire. I'm drawn to challenges and there's nothing quite as satisfying as getting blood from an "impossible" draw. If you ever have me draw your blood, satisfaction is guaranteed.

As much as I love blood draws, I hate any other forms of body fluids or secretions. I can't decide what's worse: serous fluid or stool. One of my patients is suffering from peripheral edema in a bad way and she tends to spring leak from time to time. It's not unusual for her to cover the exam room floor with fluid. I don't know if you've ever smelled serous fluid, but it's not pleasant.

I hate female pelvic exams. I don't mind handling penises, but feminine plumbing just isn't pleasant. (Ok, it is, but not in a medical context). I am often puzzled by why people who know they are coming in for pelvic exams don't make an effort to clean up a bit down there. I'm not saying you need to book a STAT Brazillian, but at least make sure you're somewhat clean in the general area. If you're covered in toilet paper residue or worse - what the toilet paper didn't remove - or look like you're on a personal mission to save the rain forest, it makes it harder to do a proper exam.

My first female medical encounter was traumatic. I was shadowing a coworker to learn how to do a bladder installation.

The female in question was on the larger side. Let's just say she was easier to step over than walk around. As she was laying there in the stirrups an odor spread out in the small exam room in a way that was threatening to suffocate anything living within seconds. My poor coworker's head disappeared into the black hole while I was struggling with keeping my lunch down. Then I heard a muffled noise coming from my friend.

At first I thought she was calling for help because she had gotten stuck and couldn't get out by herself, but then I realized she was commenting on the woman's labia. The woman on the table had a rash on her labia to which she responded that it was probably a herpes outbreak.

He labia area was as big as my coworker's head. I'm willing to put money on that she could anatomically have given birth to a full sized human.

I still have nightmares about that encounter.

No, penises - like men - are simpler creatures to deal with. Not that dealing with cystoscopies and catheters are pleasant, but compared to the female anatomy it's far easier. But women aren't the only ones who don't think personal hygiene is of importance prior to a doctor's visit, men are equally dirty. Here's a valuable tip for you guys:

Wash your bits and pieces and REMOVE EVERYTHING FROM YOUR BELLY BUTTON.

I am not this person

Nor do I enjoy making bears out of belly button lint

The Smell Of Burnt Wool

I'm a goof ball. And I've been even more of one lately.

I'm not good at dealing with tragedies and find myself unable to say or do the right things. I find that in face of sadness or tragedy, I get goofy.

In addition to my sister in law's recent passing, five of our patients have died since I joined this practice less than nine months ago. I am one giant goof ball now.

The smell of burnt wool in an old church

Years back the small place where I grew up experienced a series of suicides and other deaths. If I recall correctly, there were six people under the age of 20 that died within six months. There were a lot of funerals; funerals we all attended because everyone knew everyone.

I believe it was the fourth funeral we attended. The funeral took place in the dead of winter and the church was old with a very old heating system in form of water or steam going through pipes under the seats that were around the walls. As with older heating systems, the heating was either on or off so it got pretty hot on those seats after a while.

People usually didn't use those seats since the number of regulars in the church wasn't high enough to warrant overflow seats. However, these funerals made the village come together in show of support so every seat was taken, and some were standing.

My friend and I were sitting on those seats when we started smelling burnt wool. Turned out the smell was coming from our wool stockings. We had been friends since kindergarten so by that time we knew what the other one was thinking. Simultaneously we were thinking that our butts were about to catch fire and started giggling hysterically. My friend's mom was sitting right by us and cast us one of those looks. That made it even worse. We were laughing so hard we almost fell off the seats. I don't know if we managed to make it seem as if we were sobbing as we hid our faces in our mittens.

Of course we didn't mean to laugh, and there really wasn't anything funny about the situation. I just think we'd had enough of tragedy. Too many of our friends had died - and at some point a person just can't take anymore tragedy.

I find myself in a similar situation now. So for now I am a huge goof ball and the smell of burnt wool will forever be a time machine taking me back to a funeral in an old, drafty church.

New Jacket, New LBS, And No Bike Tuesday

Last weekend was our Christmas party, which is why I didn't leave any cyber footprints yesterday. While I don't get hungover at all I do get paranoid. The post alcohol paranoia isn't aimed at anyone or anything in particular, but it's present and it's real.

I biked in yesterday because I figured the fresh air and rain would do me good - and it did. I also wanted to test out my new jacket that was given to me by one of my nervous friends. With the exception of hubby, no one in my life thinks commuting by bike is a good idea. What I see as exercise, they see as a death wish. But I'm as stubborn as they come, so instead of fighting a losing battle I am constantly bombarded with opinions and advice. And last, but not least, this jacket.

Yellow Teletubby

I am torn over this item since I'm not sure if it's preventative or serves as a big target on my back, so I decided to test it out. Well, turns out it made zero difference. The asshats along Newport Way were as plentiful as usual. So much for that. But I liked the jacket in and of itself - it's warm, completely waterproof, and overall quite functional - not to mention free, so I'll most likely remove the letters and use it for very cold and rainy days.

The tip came off!
No, not quoting John Bobbitt

Much like the Hulk, I don't know my own strength. As I went to put a little more air into my rear tire yesterday morning pre ride, part of the valve broke off. Initially I thought I had unscrewed it a bit too far, but I couldn't get it back in again. The air seemed to stay inside the tire, so I figured I'd take a look once I arrived at work. Well, the stem was broken off, so I called a new LBS. I tried to be supportive of the local business last time and went to Issaquah Bike, but let's just say I didn't notice an difference between them and REI.

 

A story about fixing a tire at a small local bike shop

I think the new LBS is better. At least they were able to fix my tire and tighten my brakes, but they charged me over $60 for it. The tire being $5, I feel it's a little on the higher end of what I believe to be reasonable. Especially since Gregg's Cycle charged me $5 for the same amount of work. Perhaps I'm just being paranoid.

I didn't bike in today. I'm jealous of those who did so I'm declaring this day No Bike Tuesday - which means no one can bike. Unless this is how you bike to work.

If I were really hardcore, I would install this at work and bike while I'm at my desk. Not sure if the world is ready for this yet.

I miss my weekend rides but I am holding off until the other side of winter. I prefer to enjoy my rides instead of constantly dodging debris, which there is tons of in every bike lane. But come March or so, I'll be back at it - riding centuries every weekend.

I Was Promised A Male Genitalia Free Environment!



I don't mind Tom and Harry...

When I interviewed for this job, my only requirement was that this was a dick-free environment. Both figuratively and literally. I came from urology where male genitalia is a dime a dozen. Add doctors with huge egos to an already extremely stressful environment and you have a cocktail I'm not interested in drinking. No pun intended. So I left. My direct boss has a good sense of humor, so in her written job offer she promised me a male genitalia free environment.

It seems silly to write an entire post about this, but I just have to get it out of the system before I explode or implode. I don't know physics well enough to know which direction I'll be blowing. I suppose it depends on whether I've had peas and cabbage or not.

Just what the doctor ordered

My boss is behaving like a proper dick today. I think this have to do with yesterday somehow where I had to leave early due to personal reasons - which I had cleared with my manager last week. In other words, this wasn't some unplanned sudden vanishing act on my part.

We all have favorites. People we get along with better. Or people we like more. That being because they have something we want, have a personality that works better with ours, or we think they are attractive. Whatever the reason, the end result is that we treat these people better than we do others who don't have any of these qualities. My boss has such a favorite. It's funny at its best, ridiculous at its average, and anger inducing at its worst. Today it's the latter.

My boss it very attracted to this person. He is also very married in the traditional sense to a wife that would most likely chop his bits off should he act on this attraction. This doesn't prevent him from behaving like a teenager in lust whenever he's around this person. The teenage hormonally charged behavior I can handle. But when his hormone goggles has a direct effect on my day, I mind. My coworker, who is my peer, gets away with anything. Probably murder as well. Should she ever find herself having murdered someone, my boss would be the first person there with a shovel and a tarp - no questions asked. We all need friends like that so that's not where I have objections.

My coworker is notoriously late for work. She messes up with labs on a routine basis. This was apparently something my predecessor was fired over, making her "get out of jail free card" even more distasteful. What she really does around here is still a mystery to me. Point in case: she was gone for almost three weeks and no one noticed. None of us had to work any harder because of it. In fact, things seemed to run smoother than usual. Probably because we didn't  have to watch out for drool on the floor, which can be a work hazard.

My coworker's philosophy

To make a long story longer: I was gone for the last part of yesterday. Apparently things got "crazy" here because there were four patients here. FOUR! WTFF!! Means freaking fudge. So now my boss feels that I abandoned ship, causing my coworker to actually having to work. Go figure. He's been soooo nice to her I almost want to vomit. Example, "thank you for doing your job". Actual words he said to her. Eh, I'm all for work place appreciation and all that and positive feedback but only if it's true. Me - he's ignoring or treating as if I'm in his way.

I feel better now. And that's why there will be no bodies to show up for with a tarp and a shovel. I guess I'll use the Call A Friend option for another time.

This is a video Edwin, who claims he's a grumpy pants, tipped me of and that I'll be doing later.

"You Don't Have To Do This!" + Ride Report

As I was biking home yesterday being all maudlin, I recalled something that happened when I first started out in uniform. I believe this is common for most women when they join - especially if you're young, like a rite of passage of sorts. Anywho, I was asked to go undercover in vice as a prostitute. At the time I was volunteering at the Boys And Girls Club.

I think it was the third time I was out walking the streets when I spotted a minivan in my peripherals and heard someone shouting something out of the car. I got a little nervous, but trusted my partners to have my back. The van was driving super slow as it pulled up along side me. I glanced over and recognized the father of one of the kids from the club in it. He had the passenger side window down and was leaning towards me as he was shouting, "You don't have to do this!" I shook my head and walked a little faster, hoping he would give up. He didn't. He then said, "Quick, get into my car. I will save you." I told him he was confusing me with someone else, but he still wouldn't give up. After urging me to be saved by him a few more times he eventually gave up.

I wanted to tell him I was undercover but couldn't. He didn't know I was a cop since we didn't know each other too well. Next time I saw him, he pretended like nothing had happened. I never explained and we never talked about it. Now when I think about it, I'm wondering why he was driving in the area in the first place. It was quite funny in retrospect - me decked out in complete hooker outfit with fishnets and all, him in his dad van pleading with me to get off the streets.

Looks more like a soccer mom than a street walker

On the topic of streets (smooth segue) I was almost mowed down this morning. I was crossing an intersection with a car that was passing me on the left. As it was passing me, the next thing I knew was headlights coming towards me from the lane going in the opposite direction. A car was turning to his left, not seeing me behind the car. He managed to stop in time and I was screaming like a little girl. I think I sounded like a cross between a sea lion and a squirrel. Lesson learned: when crossing intersections, take into account that cars cannot see me if I'm behind a car.

I decided not to get too freaked out by the near hit because of this: It doesn't matter whether I'm in a car, walking, or biking - there will always be near incidents. Take last weekend as an example when I was rear ended in my car. The difference is that I am far more vulnerable on a bike than in a car - which is why it seems scarier.

Also this morning - an abandoned motorcycle by the road. Unfortunately, a motorcycle cop was already standing by it. It was a pretty sweet ride. Red and shiny. Strange. It's not snowing today and I doubt it will but it's very wet which means I got to test my rain gear again and I'm happy to report that I'm still completely dry. Thank you new rain pants and sealskinz shoe covers!

TGIFF

Yes, I absolutely meant to add that extra F. This week was one of those that yells "on your left" for then to pass you on the right.



No, not that

Not this either



This is more like it

This morning's commute was so cold I almost died. I wore my old work jacket and tied a wool scarf with tigers on around my head - but my butt will either fall off or live for another 100 years without me, depending on whether you believe in cryogenics or not. I guess it's time to invest in warmer pants.

I won't bike this weekend. For one, it's too cold, and secondly, I have decided to partake in close combat activities that may or may not involve the use of profanities and melee weapons: I am going shopping for Christmas presents. Every year it's the same thing - I say to myself that I will buy next year's presents on sale in January but it never happens. Oh, well, I suppose spending a night in jail due to fighting over the very last hyped up toy of this year's Christmas is part of the traditions. I might have to pop a valium before going.

Speaking of valium. One of my patients took one prior to the appointment, can I get space cadet for $200, Alex?

On the topic of Christmas, here's my list for Santa:

Waterproof handlebar pannier
Sealskinz for my other bike shoes
Warm bike pants
1,000,000 dollars

Not that much to wish for.

Ghost Bikes And Ghost Husbands

During my horrid ride of Saturday, I found out whose ghost bike it is that's placed in Kenmore. The cyclist who died was 70-year old Gordon Gray.

The detective on the case determined Gray failed to stop at a stop sign right before the crash.

While I don't know if that's true or not, it's a miracle no one else has died or gotten seriously maimed in that particular area. I have yet to see a single bicyclist stop by at the stop signs in Kenmore (unfortunately myself included), the cars do and don't, and don't even get me started on the low-flying pelotons. I'm sure being a member of a group has its advantages but from the outside it's still hella annoying. The groups I encounter on my rides are rude as hell - meaning they ride four abreast, taking the entire trail, not moving when I come along, and they don't say anything when they pass me with less clearance than the asshats driving cars.

Did I mention I detest pelotons? Not saying there might be great and very polite groups that consist of gentlemen whose mothers taught them manners, but I have yet to encounter one.

Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No, it's a peloton!

Things have improved somewhat on the homefront. Hubby and I did a few things together this weekend which was nice. That means I have to rethink my new nickname for him, which would have been Casper - as in the friendly ghost. You know, because I never see him even when he's home. We went out for dinner on Saturday, then lunch on Sunday. So sorry, Channing, we'll have to reschedule our rendezvous.

Most of the time I don't think about this, but from time to time it hits me how much work it is to be a grown up. Work is work, responsibilities are work, relationships are work, kids are work, and even relaxing is work. I can't spend too much time thinking about this and ultimately question the meaning of life, because I'll most likely go bonkers like most of the famous philosophers did. One just can't start thinking about how a table isn't really a table or whether the shadows on the cave wall is what's real or not and expect to remain sane. Seems like most of my life is spent forging on these days and I don't like it so something's gotta give. Just to clarify - I am not unhappy just restless. Perhaps it's an early midlife crisis of sorts.

Hubby is going away for a few days which will give the heart a chance to grow fonder, but if I know myself the time will most likely be spent on Netflix. Unlike hubby, I don't typically take my work home which allows me to untangle completely from work related issues. I've always preferred it that way, all though I have been thinking about moving on from where I am now. Major changes are taking place where I currently work, but for now I'll sit it out and see where all the pieces land once it's all said and done.

To stop or not to stop, that is the question.

This morning's commute was great! Except for a very stern school bus driver - which leads me to a question: do I have to make a full stop for school buses when they have their red blinky lights on when I'm on the side walk on the other side? On my bike? Up where I live there are quite a few school buses in the morning if I time it just wrong. This morning I saw red lights up ahead so I went onto the sidewalk so I wouldn't have to wait for the children to board. As I'm biking passed the bus while on the sidewalk, the driver opens the window and yells that I have to stop. Say what? I have never seen a pedestrian stop and wait for a school bus but what do I know. Apparently not traffic laws.

Dark Commute, Plumbing Issues, And A Hit And Almost Run

This morning's commute was uneventful and dark. I notice a huge difference in daylight just from last week. I ride in darkness pretty much the entire way now. Between riding in dusk and dark, I prefer the latter because it makes me more visible. I've ditched my beloved vest because it didn't add anything now that I have disco lights on my bike making me visible from outer space. I'll probably wear it if I ever go jogging.

  

Not very likely though... All though, I have considered the act of completely obliterating the ligaments in my knees by bouncing on a hard surface for hours on end. I chalk that up to temporary insanity but never say never. If it's one thing I've learned so far in life is that there's no such thing as an absolute. Using words like "never" and "always" will most likely be followed by lies.

Having my commute start out while it's still dark out allows me to witness some pretty spectacular sunrises, like the one today.

  

As I arrived at Whole Foods, the sun lit up the surrounding buildings, making them sparkle like diamonds. This picture doesn't do it justice at all. Paired with a mediocre phone and my lacking skills in the area, the picture just serves as a general idea of the beauty.

For a while now, we've had this issue at our office. Clogged toilets. The building management told us it was because we use two-ply paper, but that just sounded ridiculous. A couple of days ago we discovered why. The first time the plumber had to be called, he just snaked the pipes and couldn't really say why it had clogged. Then it happened again.

The second time the plumber had to be called he discovered why our toilets kept clogging: Masses of feminine products were stuck in the drain. Not your average tampon, but pads. Loads of pads. Why on earth anyone would flush a sanitary pad down the toilet is beyond me. Turns out the clogging wasn't caused by our indulgence in two-ply paper but by a patient who spends 20+ minutes in the bathroom - and I was going to write, doing lord knows what - but now I know what she's doing: Apparently stuffing the toilets with sanitary pads.

 

Change of subject

I had a thought last night that I put into action this morning. I brought the old badge with me. It no longer carries any real power, but I might be able to chuck it at someone if the situation calls for it. While I wouldn't want that life, it feels like having an old friend back and it makes me feel safer.

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On the topic of feeling safer; I went out for a walk during lunch today with coworkers when we spotted a woman sitting on the sidewalk with a man standing over her. There were two cars parked nearby and at first I thought she'd had an episode in one of the cars and that the man was helping her. Turns out the guy had run over her with his car.

To say that he wasn't pleased to see us would be the understatement of the year, as he had almost convinced the woman that it was her fault that he hit her - while she was walking on the sidewalk. What a charming guy. The woman had just moved to this country and didn't know the laws, nor did she speak English well, so she was an easy victim for his con. I thought, "hell no!" and asked to see his driver's license. He took out his wallet and I snapped a picture of it. I also took a picture of his car.

While my coworkers tended to the woman, I asked him what had happened. He said, "well, she's probably going to tell you that I had stopped to let her cross on the sidewalk in front of me, but I hadn't." Eh, excuse me? How is it her fault that you ran her over on the sidewalk? His explanation made it seem worse not better. Not yielding for pedestrians on sidewalks is never their fault. No matter what. Ok, if they are riding recumbents - maybe.

Then the guy proceeded to get into his car to drive off. Not caring how the pedestrian was doing. Then my coworker asked me if I got his insurance info, which I hadn't. I motioned for him that I needed to ask him a question and he rolled down his window. When I asked him for proof of insurance, he told me to call him. Call him by dialing the phone number he hadn't given us? I said, "ok, I guess I'll just call the police then." Funny how those words made the insurance card magically appear. Then he took off. I wasn't about to prevent him from leaving given his track record when it comes to pedestrians, so off he went. My coworkers and I ended up taking the woman to the ER, called the police, and then I left.

Craziness.

ICD-10 Codes And A Very Annoying Coworker

My mama always told me not to post anything when angry, which is why I waited until now. Actually, my mother never told me any such thing. What she was saying had more to do with beds and anger. Not the fun kind but the sensible kind.

I'm annoyed today. Perhaps it has to do with my vanishing eye, perhaps I'm getting a cold, perhaps it's just the season. But maybe I'm annoyed because it's Back To The Future Day today and my charming and patient self traveled back to 1955 or 1985. Or simply because I only possess a certain amount of patience and what I currently have I spend on patients. Patience for patients - now there's a slogan.

I have a coworker who is mostly ok but probably shouldn't work in healthcare. The thing about working with people - sick people specifically, is that it takes a lot of patience and empathy - and if you can't muster up empathy, try to be compassionate. Sick people don't care what your day is like. They are generally scared, and as I very well know fear can quickly turn into anger. I can't tell you too much about where I work, but I can tell you it has to do with patient care. My point is, if you haven't got a compassionate bone in your body, you probably shouldn't work with patients. It doesn't do you any good nor the poor patients who have to interact with you.

I'm not saying it's easy. There are days I have to fake it till I make it, but I will never let a patient suffer for my crappy day or for my own personal reasons. Even if you're the biggest asshole in the world, I will - at the very least - be polite to you, because most often it turns out that the reason you came across as rude and demanding was that you were feeling like crap or you were scared out of your mind.

In addition to lacking compassion, this person will put her nose in my business constantly. As soon as I am done talking with a patient, she will ask me what they wanted. I'm thinking, "bitch, if you only did your job, you wouldn't have to fear every phone call". See, 90% of the calls are about her not doing what she promised she'd do. In an atypical passive aggressive way for me, I will usually pretend I didn't hear her, other times I will give her the shortest answer possible.

ICD-10 codes. Where do I begin. Oh, joy. The whole ICD-10 circus was postponed numerous times and I suppose I was hoping it would be postponed one more time - but no. For those of you who haven't got the foggiest what I'm babbling about, I'm talking about diagnosis codes we use in healthcare. In order not to put the cart before the horse, here's a link to Wiki that explains what ICD codes are. If you click it, you'll learn more than you'd every want to learn about diagnoses codes.

Now that I've written this, I'm no longer annoyed. See, writing about it prevented me from getting an ulcer or choking someone out.

Painting Sprees and Passive Aggressiveness

 

It all started at our morning meeting. Being a transplant, it took years before I got acclimated to the favorite past time of the Northwest: Passive Aggressiveness. Some people use this quality sparingly and pull it out just for special occasions, others wave the flag proudly on a daily basis.

This morning the Great PA (Passive Aggressive) Standoff of September 2015 started with an off comment by one of my coworkers. He said his wife thought it strange that our office hadn't been re-painted since we moved in here. Being new to the clinic, I wasn't sure how long the current paint had resided on the wall, but was quickly filled in on it only being three years.

I suspect that comment got under another coworkers skin in a big way. Not long after, she started painting the walls - while we were running full clinic. I'm afraid to ask her why she felt the need to start painting IMMEDIATELY. If you ask me, we could have painted during the weekend. Not today. Not now.

I'm no expert, but I don't think painting fumes are good for your health. And not at a medical clinic. I can''t write any longer. I will use my last oxygen to change into biking gear.

No Longer Homocidal

I biked in this morning and what a difference that makes. I don't feel generally annoyed anymore, just alert and calm, which seems contradicting. Below is my route.



If you follow the link to my profile, you won't find much as I didn't start using Ride With GPS until later in the game. I wasn't sure how much battery it would use on my phone - not much I've found. I wish I would have documented a few more trips, but spilt milk under the bridge and all that.

Funny though. I thought I would feel stronger after that man or mouse challenge of Monday, but my legs feel the same. I take that back. My butt does feel stronger, it's like it's perfectly molded to my seat. Which it probably is after nine hours in the saddle.

Today I felt the first chills of fall. It was foggy, damp, and cold. The kind of cold that creeps into your bones. I really don't like downhills, which might make me an oddity. I love the long climbs that go on for miles. No wonder I loved the climbs of HPC so much, and it also explains why I'm going back on the 12th.

On my way to work I pass by a road construction area. They've been working on this tiny intersection for over four months, which seems a bit long for something that doesn't seem very complicated to do. I believe they are replacing the asphalt and putting in sidewalks. Oh well, what do I know. I'm not a road worker.

It's Friday. The start of a three day weekend. Can't wait until Monday and PROS.

My route back home and the hill that made me able to do the HPC. Thank goodness for the hills of Seattle.



On second thought, I realize that the title of this post might imply that I've been homocidal. This is not true. I think.

The Joys of Primary Care

I need to ride my bike in tomorrow. Really. I do.

After HPC, I decided to give my body a couple of days to recuperate. But with school starting for my offspring, the two days have now turned in to three. So tomorrow I'm back on my bike. That is, if I have enough break pads left. Tonight I'm cleaning my baby - Pinkerbell.

Work today has been all about poop. It started with a DRE (digital rectal exam) that went bad and ended with being trapped in a room with a BM obsessed patient.

So ya, tomorrow I'm riding my bike.