I delivered my third placenta today.

Immediately following, I resumed eating my cherry cobbler.

Resemblance?

Peds Wrap Up

Today was my last day on pediatrics. I'm kind of glad it's over, but it wasn't as bad as I had imagined.

I actually had a few cool/new experiences on peds:
1. Call - essentially means spending the night in the hospital in case anything exciting happens over night. The two times I took call....nothing exciting happened, so I slept from midnight to 5am, and went to rounds greasy and with bad breath. It's never a good thing when you drink coffee to try to hide your morning breath. Next time I'll bring a toothbrush.

2. Drawing blood - I didn't do this to a patient, but one of the interns decided that I should learn how to do this.....on HIM. Crazy person. (For a little background, I hate needles. I passed out in the parking garage at KU after getting my immunizations before starting med school.) It turned out to be okay though and I think I did a fairly decent job. I got the vein on the first try and Dr. Crazy Man said that it didn't hurt.

3. Scalpel Please - we had a patient with a deep abscess that we decided should be drained and cultured. You couldn't really see it just by looking, but you could definitely feel it. The attending and the resident decided that I should be the one to weild the scalpel. This made me a wee bit nervous. Expecially after they both pointed out that the abscess was near the spinal cord, you know, so as to remind me that one slip of the hand could cause some serious neurological problems. I managed though. We got enough goo to get a good culture and I'm pretty sure the kid walked out okay.

So, those were my cool peds experiences. I also got to spend some time in peds cardiology which was way cool. If I had to pick a specialty right now, it would be at the top of my list. I might have to do adult cardiology though because I don't know if I could make it through 3 years of general peds residency.

I'm starting on OB/GYN next week. I think it will be exciting delivering babies and all, but I've heard that the schedule is pretty demanding. If I'm reading the schedule right, I'll be on the night shift for the first week - which means I'll get to the floor at 6:30pm and stay until 8:00 the next morning. I might not see Danny for a while :(

In other news....the elections happened. Not the outcome I had hoped for, but I'm trying to remain optimistic. Obama won a few brownie points with me today when he said that they wanted to adopt a shelter dog for their new pet. For a moment I imagined a one eyed, shaggy dog like Charlie running rampant through the White House....it made me smile.

Differential Update

I had previously diagnosed myself with prinzmetal angina - I have now changed the diagnosis to precordial catch syndrome. This means that I'm not going to die of an MI any time soon.

My spot that looked like a basal cell has spontaneously regressed. I would have preferred the spot that looks like squamous cell to have regressed, but I'll take what I can get.

I briefly diagnosed myself with meningitis, then I drank some coffee and my symptoms went away. I am DEPENDENT!!!!

Enough of the politics....back to the medicine

I've been on peds now for the past week. Like with any new experience, the first few days were scary and I was unsure of what in the bejibbers I was supposed to be doing. This is my first inpatient experience and it is so much different than the outpatient experiences I've had so far. The scariest part is the presenting to attendings. I've done tons of presenting by now, but not in front of the team. So now, instead of just the attending listening to me blubber my way through a patient history, we've got several residents, social workers, pharmacists, nurses and other students as an audience for my stupidness.

The first day was by far the worst, but it always is. I'd never really been through an inpatient presentation before and was unsure of what all to include about this uber-complicated case. The attending was really nice though and managed to guide me through it, sparing my fragile confidence for the time being. So at this point I'm relieved because my big speaking gig in front of the team is over, now we get to go in and see the patient....cake. We're getting ready to go in the patient's room, but before we can go in, we have to do the little alcohol foam hand stuff on the wall. If you've seen the new Batman movie, you know what I'm talking about - hilarious. Anyway, so I go to get my hand foam, but the dispenser is different than the one I always used in my previous clinic. So instead of squirting foam into my hand, I managed to manipulate the dispenser in such a way that caused an explosion of foam to shoot out the side and hit the attending in the head. Nice work Christi. Fortunately....again....she was super nice and acted like she hadn't noticed. I'm sure the rest of the team was snickering....heck, I would laugh too if I saw someone do that. In fact, I would probably be rolling on the floor.

I managed to live through the first day, and things have been looking up ever since. I've managed to put together decent presentations for rounds and have been able to answer the questions that the attendings have "pimped" me on. In fact, I had the answer to a completely random question that one of the attendings was wondering out loud about....the incidence of sarcoidosis. I had just looked it up a few minutes before rounds and was able to give him the answer like it was no big thing. I love it when that happens! Woot woot! (Is it still cool to say that?)

In the past week, I've been on overnight call twice. This is a crazy thing, but I'd better get used to it now, because when I'm a resident it will be all to common an occurrence. When you're on overnight call, you get to the hospital at 6:00am and stay until 10:00-11:00 the following morning. That's 28 hours, and I've done 2 of these shifts in the past week in addition to my regularly scheduled 8 hour days. I'm a machine! Call isn't quite as interesting as it sounds, but it allows me the opportunity to use super-cool doctory phrases like: "I'm post call" or "I just pulled a 30." Okay, I totally made that last one up, but doesn't it sound good? If you overheard me say that (while wearing scrubs, a stethoscope and looking all together disheveled) you would probably think that I was way cool - which is my ultimate goal in life :) The only thing bad about call is the following morning when you're greasy and haven't brushed your teeth in forever. Next time I'll bring a tooth brush and those cute little face blotting papers. Although someone told me today that I looked good for being post call. I don't know if this was a complement, or if I just always look like I've been run over by a bus.

Anyhow....that's what's been going on with me for the past week. Peace out!

The View

UGHHHH! Why do I watch this show!?!? They should really call it "We Hate Conservatives" or "Lets Not Let Elizabeth Get a Word In Because We Don't Agree With Her." Seriously! Today they were being all condescending (shocking) and asked Elizabeth why she was resorting to "smearing" Barack Obama. And by "smearing" they were referring to the fact that Elizabeth has concerns because Obama has ties to William Ayers. Okay. I think that it is a legitimate concern when someone running for president of the cotton pickin' United States has ties with/common interests as/runs in the same circles as a KNOWN TERRORIST. An unabashed terrorist with no remorse. How is this "smearing?" Isn't smearing when you bring up something rather inconsequential or from like 40 years ago and try to make a big thing about it? Whoopi tried to make the argument that Obama and Ayers were acquaintances in 2002....like it was ancient history and terrorism is some sort of self-limiting condition that you grow out of. Then Whoopi, Sherri and Barbara lit into Elizabeth like she was some sort of idiot to even CARE that Obama has these ties. Why do I watch this show? Cotton Pickin'! Oh....and I'd like to know what kind of credentials Whoopi has that she thinks herself the grand master of politics....besides being the center square on Hollywood Squares.

Photo rundown

I had the last week off, which was fantabulous.

Here is a picture from our lazy Friday morning (Danny took the day off so we could hang out).

We went to St. Joe on Friday afternoon to see some sights and hear Jason Upton at Word of Life Church. Here's a random picture from a creepy museum.

And a random picture from a creepy antique store.

We didn't make it to the Jesse James museum because they had already switched to "winter hours," closing early. Um, yeah....winter hours? 85 degrees people....85 degrees. We did make it to the Pony Express Museum. Did you know that the Pony Express only operated for 19 months before the company went bankrupt? Oh snap! My blog just got all edumacational!

Oh, and we interrupted these guys when we sat down at a picnic table to enjoy some ice cream. Danny made me take the picture.

I was also able to spend some time with my besties and their adorable children.

(This is Rachel and Carmen's daughter Eva)

(Julie's Daughter, Alexis)


(Ellie and Alexis)

(Eva at Louisburg Cider Mill)

(Ellie at the Cider Mill - she usually doesn't like to smile for me, so this was a treat!)

Differential

So....here's a list of some things that are plaguing me:

Pink, shiny papule right below my left clavicle....probably a basal cell.
Rough, scaly skin just distal to afore mentioned papule....potentially actinic keratosis, or squamous cell.
When I lay down to sleep at night, I can feel my abdominal aorta pulsating strongly - probably an AAA.
Random chest pain - most likely prinzmetal angina.
Occasional pain in the region of my right scapula....gall bladder must be acting up.
My left leg has been aching lately. Feels like bone pain. I don't think I'm growing anymore, so that leaves me with bone cancer.
I clear my throat a lot, as do my mom and grandma. I think we've all got silent GERD. Probably erosive esophagitis too.
I'm pretty sure my panic disorder is resolving - I can drive on the highway again, thank you very much - but I think I may have developed a little OCD. I check to make sure that things are unplugged or off SEVERAL times before I leave the house because I don't want my house to burn down, incinerating my animals. Completely rational, right? Thought so.
I could probably make a case for IBS, IBD, Crohn's or UC, but I'll leave those details to your imagination.

That's if for now. I would hate me if I were my patient.

I know I shouldn't

Sometimes when I get bored with studying, I check out petfinder.com. I realize that this is probably not the smartest thing to do because, well, I seem to have a knack for accumulating animals. And I live in a tiny little house that requires daily vacuuming to combat the hairballs that flow freely across the floor. So...I know, I know, I know, but is this not the cutest little peanut you've ever seen?

http://www.petfinder.com/petnote/displaypet.cgi?petid=11793234

This is Gus and he's available for adoption here in KC. Just look at that widdle face! I told Danny that we should probably go and visit him....you know, just to say hi and give him some love. He then reminded me what happened the last time we went to "visit" an animal rescue: this guy came home with us.....

....and our lives were complete :)

The most awesome thing I've heard in a while

"I'm having trouble with testicles today."
-Anonymous Pediatric Attending

HI

I haven't blogged in a few weeks, so I thought I should, even though I don't really have anything important to say.

Hmmmm....So I've been working at a family medicine clinic for the past 5 weeks. I went into FM thinking that I'd get bored with the sore throats and the diabetes and the hypertension, but I've actually really enjoyed this rotation. I've been there for the birth of two babies, one c-section and one vaginal (drugs please!), and I've seen a ton of different things from warts to minimal change disease, catatonic sleep disorders, autism, and someone my age recovering from a stroke.

I'm really kind of surprised at the number of patients that I see who are on anti-depressants. If I had to guess, I would say that upwards of 60% are on them. And while some are on them for generalized anxiety, panic disorders and chronic pain, a good number are on them for, well duh, depression. Don't get me wrong, I'm definitely a fan of any medication that can make you feel better and function like a normal human being, but I wonder if some emotional stresses in life are necessary, or even good. We had a patient recently who was on an SSRI over the summer because she was going on vacation with her in-laws. Um, yeah. Really? Really? This just seems a little ridiculous. We were created with emotions for a reason. Some things should make you sad, some situations should make you anxious. It is unsettling to me that there are so many people out there facing life with a drug-induced faux-happiness because they decided they didn't want to deal with a normal life situation. Again....I totally support those who take any sort of drug for actual problems: depression/anxiety/OCD or otherwise. In-laws don't count.

Something else I find slightly upsetting. Kids are now getting a vaccine for chicken pox. Okay, so medically speaking this makes sense, but chicken pox is a right 0f passage for Pete's sake! It was such a big deal when I was a kid. I remember my mom trying to get me exposed over the summer so I wouldn't miss any school. She made me share some pumpkin ice cream at Maggie Moo's with Megan Amos when I was about 6 because Megan was infected and my mom thought that it would be a good time for me to get sick. That strategy failed and I didn't get the chicken pox until third grade. But it was exciting! The pursuit of chicken pox.....finally seeing that first pock mark....watching as they spread....trying desperately not to scratch them.....counting my pocks in an attempt to one-up my friends. Then sharing my tales of battle, "I had 'em bad in my throat! Had to eat popsicles all day." "Oh yeah, well my mom counted 5,000 on my back alone!" I would imagine that I am not alone in my fear that we are somehow disservicing today's youth by sheltering them the experience of chicken pox. It's like a first kiss or learning to drive a car....not necessarily the best experience of your life, maybe even a little painful, embarrassing or dangerous, but necessary and memorable. Okay....now I've worked myself up into a tizzy. Where is my Xanax? (This is the funny thing....I actually have some in my kitchen. But I haven't taken any. Thanks Rach.)

Team Aniston

Do you have one of those people who you would consider your arch nemesis? The bain of your existence? The Mizzou to your Jayhawk, the Joker to your Batman, the Jolie to your Aniston? I had one. Up until a week ago, that is.

You see, there's this girl....we'll call her "Angelina." She had a leading role in something that happened about 4 years ago that essentially crushed my soul. Seriously....not exaggerating. On a scale from 1-10, this was a 10 on the crap-o-meter of life. So anyway....I've been wrestling with anger and hurt and resentment toward this person (and the situation in general) for a long time. In the past year or so, I felt like I'd come to a place of forgiveness. This was an internal thing and I thought that it would just have to stay that way because the receiver of the forgiveness lived in New York and, shoot, I would probably never see her again. And I wasn't about to call her up or offer her my forgiveness and well wishes over facebook. She would just have to feel the vibes coming from my direction.

A week ago Danny and I were walking around on the Plaza and decided to go to Scooters for a drink. I got mine first and was meandering around the store waiting for Danny to get his drink. I saw a girl with a USMLE First Aid book and was contemplating introducing myself to her when I heard a voice from the other side of the store say hi to Danny. I was interested to see who it was because I always enjoy running into friends. So with a preemptive smile on my face I looked around a sign that was between me and the voice, (Insert sound of screeching record here.......then crickets chirping) It was her....ANGE-frickin-LINA! UGH! Even though I'd forgiven her in my soul (that was once crushed by her - let me remind you :) I was not ready for this moment. I mean for real! The girl lived in New York, I shouldn't have to worry about running into her on the cotton-picking PLAZA! So my sympathetic nervous system kicked in big time and I literally had a fight or flight moment. Seriously, I'd be lying to you if I said I didn't consider jumping over the table and strangling her skinny little neck. But I didn't....I turned around and hauled my arss right out of there, thank you very much! Then I thought about finding a bathroom so I could wretch a few times.

As I was scampering away, I heard a voice behind me calling my name.
Dang woman! Why can't you just leave me be?
At first I pretended that I didn't hear her, but reluctantly conceded to her beckoning and stood there in the middle of the sidewalk as she opened her heart and apologized. She had attempted this feat in the past, but this time was different. I could tell that this time she was sincere. She'd grown up a bit, she'd gotten married and she now realized how hurtful her actions had been all those years ago. And there, face to face, I was able to tell her that I had forgiven her.

Not exactly the leisurely, carefree day that I had planned on, but that's okay. This was something that needed to happen and when it did, a huge weight was lifted and I was a little bit more okay than I'd been in a while.

Plaster and Pig Feet

I finally learned to put stitches in last week. Very exciting....especially for an A personality freak like me. Making the stitches line up at perfectly congruent angles is a thing of beauty. Even if it's only on a pig's foot.

After stitching up the little piggies, we learned how to cast. Also very exciting. Kind of reminded me of pottery class. Here's a picture of my friend Kelli and the beautiful cast I made her.

Third Year

Today I finished the fifth week of my third year. I can't believe how fast the time is going! Third year is so different from and so much better than the first two years. The first two years are kind of starting to feel like a distant memory to me (I think the therapy is helping).

Anyway, here are a few observations/thoughts/ramblings about my first 5 weeks:

Nursing home - Everyone....EVERYONE is on antidepressants. Living in a nursing home + hypertension + diabetes + stroke + parkinsons + memory loss + incontinence = sad people. Why not hand out a few happy pills? Oh, and the nurses seem to be less than thrilled to help med students with.....anything.

VA wound clinic - Lots of wounds. Venous stasis wounds, diabetic foot ulcers, gun shot wounds (I'm so street). There are a lot of people here who just don't take great care of themselves. If your sugars are out of control, you're not taking your lasix, you're not trying to lose weight, well, your wound just might hang around for a while. Interesting fact: nicely healing venous stasis ulcers look a lot like ahi tuna. Yum!

Hospice House - It's amazing how the body can tell you when death is knocking.

Pulmonary clinic - "Pickwickian Syndrome" essentially a fancy way to say, "Hey buddy, you're too fat to breathe!" If your BMI is, oh say, 106, then you might fall into this category.
Favorite moment from pulm: GI/hepatology attending walks up to fellow med student, asks if he's a med student, then preceedes to steal his stethoscope. I wish he had asked me for mine....it's pink :)

Rheumatology - They are trying to KILL me. Most clinics have regular hours, even get done early some days. Not so in rheumatology. The last patient is usually scheduled at 3:30 or 4:00. We're lucky if we get to them by 6:00. That's right! We're horrible people who love to make you sit in a little room and WAIT! Haaaaaaa! Suckers!!!!! Totally kidding. If we don't see you untill 6:00, we don't get to go home until 6:45.

Also slightly frustrating because the attending expects me to know everything he knows about his patients who he's been following for 15 years. Seriously???? I've got 20 minutes to see a patient and read through the novel (sometimes 2 volumes) that is the patient's chart. Difficult. Maddening. I don't like novels, or books in general for that matter. I don't like to read. Here's a fun fact - the smarties that assess USMLE practice tests thought that I might have an undiagnosed reading issue. Does anyone have the phone number for one of those Sylvan learning centers?

General Med - You see a lot of everything here. I saw some nasty feet today. For a split second I kind of thought I might throw up. The toenails were a lovely shade of yellow and appeared to be growing in thickness instead of in length. There was some funky stuff all up under the nails too. Then there was a nice, thick layer of dead, calloused skin covering both heels which the patient claimed underwent shaving on occasion. Oh, and they smelled rather badly. I went to put the patients socks back on, and the afore mentioned toenails snagged on the socks like fingernails on a chalk board . Man....I sure am concerned about those diabetic foot ulcers. Look how much I CARE!!!!

Okay, I'm going to go wash my hands now, again, for the 500th time since the foot incident.

I'm back.

One more observation: There are sneaky little 4th years, posing as third years whose only purpose in life is to make me look dumb. These 4th years, for whatever reason, have a third year clinical rotation that they have yet to complete. This may be because they've taken time off, decided to push their boards back, or they may have failed a rotation....or boards. Unfortunately the attendings assume that we're all at the same point in our education, but in reality these 4th years have a whole year of clinical experience on us. So they know the tricks....they know how to give a good presentation. They flaunt their skillz but keep mum about their fourth year status. I may have to blow their cover.

The stupidest things I've done lately (Part 1)

1. Left my purse in the records room at the geriatric clinic. Doctor and nurse left before the students, locking the door to this room before they left. Had to sit and wait as security fumbled through about 4 gozillion keys trying to open the door and then recommend that we call maintenance. Awesome.

2. Thought the 4:30 patient in the geriatric clinic was a no show. Continued to fiddle on the computer trying to figure out electronic medical records. Found out at 4:55 that the 4:30 patient was not, in fact, a no show and had left after waiting 20 minutes for someone to come see her. Oops.

More to come.....

Dirt and Ashes

Last month my mom, my grandma and I finally took Pop to the cemetery. We had been meaning to do this since he died in September, but for whatever reasons (not wanting to cry anymore, not wanting to go through with this final step) we waited until June. Oh, and I should probably mention at this point that he was cremated. We didn't pull some sort of Weekend at Bernie's stunt or anything. And we decided to bury his ashes ourselves because the cemetery wanted to charge us $800.00 to dig a hole the size of a shoebox. Whatever.....

We started out at Brio on the Plaza for a nice lunch and then headed to Mount Washington Forever Cemetery. I hadn't been there since my great-grandma Dolly died when I was about 7 so I couldn't really remember much except that our family grave sites were on a steep hill. The clouds were dark as we drove, but by the time we pulled up to the hill, the sun had broken through and shone down through the thick trees over the graves. We gathered up all of our supplies; spade - check, flowers - check, water - check, Pop - check, and headed up the hill. I climbed strait up to the headstone while my mom and grandma made a zig zag pattern up the incline. While I waited for them, I held my Pop's ashes in my hands. The box that they had been in for the past several months read: The cremated remains of Dr. Clyde E. Fry. Strange. Strange for so many reasons. My Pop, who probably weighed about 160lbs when he died had been reduced to 10lbs worth of ashes that fit neatly into this little box. Strange that, according to this box, it's contents were his only "remains." I've thought about those words a lot and I've come to the conclusion that those ashes are certainly not my Pop's "remains." My Pop's remains are grandma, mom, dad, me, Danny, Ted, Louis, Shirly, Lois, Herold, Cindy, Julie, Rachel, Carmen, the guys from the ball team, his patients, his friends and everyone that his life had ever touched. His remains also include laughter, big band music, jazz, coffee, silly sayings (I almost told a patient today "Where there's no sense, there's no feeling"), goofiness, pancakes, messiness. There is much love that remains in the special part of my heart that belongs to my Pop.

When mom and grandma made it up the hill, I began to dig a hole near Pop's headstone. The ground was soft from recent rain which made the digging easy. When the hole was big enough, mom took the plastic bag of ashes out of their box and we slowly let them spill into the ground. After we covered them with a layer of soil, we planted some flowers. The flowers were pretty and all, but their main purpose was to serve as a decoy just incase the cemetery people got suspicious that we were burying the ashes ourselves, which is apparently against the rules.

So there we stood over his freshly buried ashes, the three women he loved the most in this world, the three women who loved him back with all our hearts. There were quiet emotions that we each kept to ourselves, but there were no tears. No eloquent words were said, no fuss was made. There was peace, warm sunshine, a cool breeze through the trees.

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love. 1 Corinthians 13:13

Hello

Hello. My name.....is Charlie Bartlett.

Guitar Hero or Guitar Loser?

So I was watching Ellen today and she had this kid on who was like the best Guitar Hero player EVER. As I watched, I was amazed at how good he was, but then I started thinking about how much time he must have spent mastering his skillz. Then I thought, "Gosh....if he spent as much time playing with a real guitar as he has with a plastic one, he might have a talent that he could actually use someday....for something interesting and productive and perhapse lucrative." He would certainly get more chicks someday if he could play a real guitar. Then I just got irritated at our video game obsessed culture. This might have something to do with the fact that we're studying childhood and adolescent obesity in school right now. Don't get me wrong, I played my share of Mario Brothers in my day, and I can appreciate the value of a good video game, but for real! Why would you play tennis on a Wii when you could put your tennis shoes on, go out side (or to a club) and actually play tennis? Are we that lazy that physical activities have to be packaged in the form of a video game for us to take part in them?

Okay....rant is over.

Downward Spiral Day

When I was in undergrad, I'd have days that I'd call "downward spiral" days. These were the days that I managed to convince myself that I would never get into med school and that the earth was, no doubt, spinning out of control and headed directly toward the sun, where we would all be engulfed and die instantly. This was usually brought on by a test or assignment grade in the 87-89% range instead of the required-for-med-school/required by my own crazy self-standard 97-100% range. Obviously we're all still alive and I managed to make it into med school, so my imaginary downward spiral never really resulted in much more than a few hours of self-loathing followed by picking myself up off the couch, dusting the cookie crumbs from my mouth and getting on with things.

I hadn't had a downward spiral day since my pre-med days.....until today. Well, this past week could be considered a downward spiral week. You see, this past module (Infectious Disease) was crap! I consistently score in the "High Satisfactory" range, or "B" to those lay people out there who don't understand our overly technical too-cool-to-use-letters-for-grades-med-school-grading lingo. This past block I got a "Satisfactory." JUST satisfactory. And for all of you out there who don't ascribe to the afore mentioned grading lingo, it's the grade letter after B. And I missed getting my standard grade by about 1%. On top of all this, the last module was 6 weeks - which gives me 6 weeks of letter-grade-after-B, thus derailing my course to a 3.00 for my first 2 years. I'll have to get "Superior" grades in the next 2 blocks to get a 3.00, so I guess it's still possible, but let me indulge in my downward spiral a little longer.

As if this grade debauchery wasn't enough, the powers that be made us take a standardized test over the subject matter covered in this ill-organized, ill-taught block. To make a long story short: I sucked it up! This is what really catapulted me into the spiral! After several minutes spent comparing my score to that of my peers and that of the rest of the 2nd year med students in the country, I've determined that I'm exceedingly average. Blah! Maybe even (gasp!) a bit below average. This is a lot to process for someone who is used to being in the top of EVERYTHING. For the love of PETE, I was in the 98 percentile in height and weight when I was a baby! I'm COMPETITIVE! The only thing I can compare this to is being a really great high school athlete. You don't question your talent because you regularly pummel your competition. Then you get to college - still really good, you win lots of awards and everyone continues to tell you how great you are. Then you go off to the NFL/NBA and all of a sudden people are pummeling YOU. Then you start to worry about getting cut!

Anyhow....I slept in today, ate a few too many no-bake cookies and watched some good, quality TV. Overall I'm feeling better. I think the spiral has slowed and has almost stopped completely. Now it's time to pick myself up and get on with it.

June

Oh, mexico
Sounds so sweet with the sun sinking low
Moons so bright like to light up the night
Make everything all right

I guess I'll have to go.......

Saturday

So this last block pretty much sucked. It's finally over though. Today I spent a little quality time at DSW, so that helped to take the edge off. I got a new pair of Rykas for my jazzercise class. I tried to look at other shoes, but made the mistake of taking Danny along with me and he started getting restless. He just doesn't understand the joy I feel meandering through rows of clearance shoes. Pretty, pretty shoes. Mmmmmm......shoes.

2 months....crap

I just looked at my blog and realized that it's been 2 months since I've updated. Which is okay, since maybe one other person reads it (hi Bethany).

Short run down of the past 2 months:
Took a test - did okay - didn't take retake - missed getting an A by .27% - heck
Christmas - good times

New Year's - wedding down town
Mom's birthday/Eva Taylor Garlich is born - headed to the hospital at 4:30am. Mom is neglected
Grandma's birthday - yummy dinner at Herford House
Took another test - bad day
Took the retake - worse day

And that brings us up to today - Jazzercise. I've been jazzercising since the first of the year. When your pants start getting tight, you just have to do something. When I signed up, they asked me where I'd heard about the class. I really wanted to say, "Oh, I heard THE GRINCH talking about it." But I didn't.

That is all....as you were (Bethany).