Monday, November 24, 2008

Oh no he di-int!

Oh, yes I did.  Two blogs in two days.  Better productivity then Texas Tech had on Saturday.  It is the holidays and I am a sweetheart so here 'ya go.  See you after T-Giving.

Seeing as the holidays are approaching faster than a gunner can say "teacher, teacher, you forgot to assign us homework!!" I thought I would take this opportunity to assist you folks a little bit should you come across a Hotel.  Once a long, long time ago, a young, stud-riddled group of bellmen (who happen to be the greatest bellmen and co-workers ever and were actually thinking about making a "Bell Hops in Tank Tops" calendar cuz they are so manly) started a blog.  They all make Vin Diesel in Pitch Black look like Clay Aiken.  What started out as sheer entertainment quickly turned into a defunct blog as soon as management pulled the internet from the work-space.  Before the ship went down, they managed to squeeze out the best tipping guide to date (as well as search the internet for info on colon cleansing, UFC, co-workers in bathing suits, you-tube videos of aliens and surf spots, Nascar, beer, reggae music, atheism, Bible Verses, army gear, pictures to photoshop and google every creepy guest they could, to name a few items from memory).  It isn't someone giving their opinion about what they feel is best, but actually advice and guidance straight from the receiver.  Naturally you might be thinking the information is a little biased, like Tom Cruise talking about Scientology in the background of a PETA video, but I assure you, it comes from the heart.  So at my futile attempt to resuscitate the blog (I think they have internet again) I say, Enjoy!!

NOTE TO READER:  If you ever see a bellman loading a cart like the one pictured above, he is a fake.  No self-respecting bellman packs a cart like that.  Maybe a valet, but NOT a bellman.  He is going to put the folding garment bag on the cart, wrinkling the suit.  Plus the golf clubs are resting against the metal which is putting unnecessary strain on the Calvin and Hobbes golf club cover that guest has.  That is what you call a JV job.  Plus I can see the hand prints on the cart.  Someone didn't learn to use bright boy...

Saturday, November 22, 2008

Seeing the doctor

I will never look at another doctor visit the same again.  From here on out all doctor visits will be looked at under my "is it good enough for medical school" microscope.  I had to get my final Hep B shot (the school requires it, and besides, I fear Hep B more than Autism so I would have gone for it anyways).  I have not been to the doctor since starting medical school so I immediately started to observe everything.  The way the counter worked (two ladies calling on a single file line), the rules that were posted (no cell phones, extra charge for after hours care, no narcotics after hours), how many doctors they had (11), how many waiting rooms they had (3), etc.  

First of all, I will never attempt to provide reading material in the waiting room.  If you are my patient, entertain yourself.  It agitates me more looking at 50 magazines that all suck then staring at a wall.  One decent magazine would be nice, but instead I get Highlights that already had the Mad Libs done.  So I will not bother to spend money paying for magazines that will not get read by my patients or better yet ones that will agitate them further.  They will bring a book next time.  And there will be a cell phone fee if I have to wait outside a room because you are on the phone.

I also paid attention to how the nurse handled talking with me as well as how the doctor spoke.  Is he using OLDCARTS, or OPPQRSTA, or winging it?  Is he going to pull at my social history a little bit or just give me the shot and be done with it.  For the first time I actually sat in the "interview" chair.  I usually like to sit on the tissue paper, helps me feel sanitary, but this time I went for the textbook doctor visit.  The nurse gave me the shot and then had me wait for the doctor.  I thought about just leaving.  What I came for was done, and there was no need to talk to the doctor, and besides, how stoked would he be to find out that he could go kick back in his office for a few minutes because he didn't have to waist his time talking to me?  Well I stayed, and looked at the dermatome cheat sheet he had on his wall and studied.  Naturally, since he needed a cheat sheet, I figured he must have graduated from Drexel!  HAH!  I realize that it just makes it easier, so I cut him a break.  Chances are I will soon forget them myself anyway.  Then it occurred to me, why am I learning it now if I am allowed to have a cheat sheet on the wall one day?  Better yet, if I have access to wikipedia to diagnose, I am set.  Wikipedia has taught me 99% of the immunology I know.  Well, the patient/doctor interaction went well.  He asked me a few questions and then we talked about medical school a little bit.  He told me about his friend that died from getting Hep B in medical school from a needle stick.  Can't wait for those to start happening.  Then he told me to wait a sec and he would be right back.  For some reason, I got excited.  I thought, "this is it, the day they teach me the doctor handshake or the secret to doing well in medical school or something only doctors know."  I was disappointed when the nurse came by explaining that the doc didn't know I already got my shot and had wanted me to wait to get it.  She didn't tell him that she did that so I ended up waiting an extra 10 minutes.  I would have missed 10 points for a move like that.  I guess I will have to wait until graduation to learn the handshake.  Until then, I will just flash the Harley wave every time I pass a doc in the hallway.  (Couldn't find the clip I wanted, so just deal with it.)

Friday, November 14, 2008

Update: Parents out there really do want out of being a parent

In reference to a previous post found here, where I talked about the safe-haven law in Nebraska:  Front page of I found this today.  Apparently they are asking kindly for parents to stop.  Good luck with that.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008


Sunday I looked like a heroin addict.  Yes, friday was our (most of us) first time drawing blood.  (Well, 2nd if you count the one time I was doing research and the german doc and I needed blood, and well we were low on supplies and so we used a belt and butterfly needle and made a mess.  Turns out he didn't know how to draw blood either.  He was more concentrated on learning to be a surgeon than a phlebotomist.  I appreciate that.)  Sad to say it will probably be the last, because every time I have had my blood drawn it has been by a nurse or someone I assume to be a phlebotomist (I was going to link the definition for you, but Princeton decided to define it as someone who practices phlebotomy.  See for yourself.  I guess they like to hoard their knowledge.  Wow, now that the -ist is changed to -y, I understand.)

If I were concerned about not looking like an addict, I probably wouldn't have suggested the student drawing my blood didn't go the easy route and instead, "pick the small vein, you patsy.  One of the few times the other person wont sue you for screwing up, so take advantage."  Either way though it is hard to draw blood with 5 other students watching when they all know you have no idea what you are doing and they all know this is your first time and what not so I won't hold a grudge.  

I couldn't help but question why were were doing this (the only thing I can think of is that in residency and rotations I will be requested to do things outside of my job description which happens to be "stand there and don't kill anyone.")  I mean, as previously hinted to, I have done a fair share of shadowing (one of the many proverbial med school admission "hoops" to jump through.  Seeing as they want you to have some idea about what medicine entails.  If I had listened to the doc I shadowed though I wouldn't be here today, so their plan could have backfired) and the only time I saw a doctor draw blood was that one time where all the nurses passed out and the office manager wasn't available to step in.  I guess it keeps us from having to lie when a patient asks, "is this your first time?" 

Monday, November 3, 2008

Easy Gunner

So here I am, 12 weeks of medical school under my belt and I am going to address one thing today.  I am still amazed by some of my fellow students' need to scrub in after peeing.  Dude, we get it, you have scrubbed in on a few surgeries, big deal.  Yeah it is neat, but you do not need to be peacocking your hand washing skills around like you are Howie Mandel*.  No joke, day one of orientation, first bathroom break, dudes were up to their elbows in suds, scrubbing like they were at a mysophobia convention.  Getting in between the creases, under the nails.  It's cool, bro, the only person who needs to worry about suing you over an infection is you.  Relax, as soon as you grip the door knob on the way out you will already have a nice blanket of bacteria on your arm.  It makes more sense to wash your hands BEFORE peeing anyways, but culture dictates otherwise.  You want to be a surgeon?  Better learn how to not pee on your hands first.

*Mandel has obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) and mysophobia (fear of germs) to the point that he does not shake hands with anyone, including enthusiastic contestants on Deal or No Deal, unless he is wearing latex gloves. Instead of shaking contestants' hands when they offer them, Mandel often opts to exchange fist pounds, put his hands on contestants' shoulders, or give an occasional hug.