An open letter to my esophagus

Dear Lower Esophageal Sphincter,

"Hormones" are not an excuse.  I have heartburn from drinking WATER!  You really need to step up your game, you lazy piece of crap.  My esophagus is freaking killing me.  And my sad little H2 blocker...?  It's like Charlie trying to piss out a bonfire. 

Consider this your warning.  Do NOT make me go to the ER and demand an IV PPI and a GI cocktail....and dilaudid....and IV benadryl.   

Sincerely,
CBart

Self Actualization

I grew up an insane KU basketball fan.  I knew all of the players (full names, hometowns, interests), had the press guides memorized each year and would often stalk players for autographs after the games.  Along with this love for KU came the inevitable and required intense disdain for Missouri. This lifestyle continued until medical school/residency/parenthood when there was simply no extraneous time for the luxury of watching college basketball.  During the last few years, I've grown in maturity and have actually decided that, alas, I don't hate Missouri.  What did they ever do to me?  Why should I dislike someone just because they live across State Line from me?  Just because someone went to an institution of higher learning in Colombia does not make them a bad person.  In fact, I have several wonderful friends who went to MU. 

So I was quite frustrated when I watched the pre-game coverage of Thursday's NCAA Tournament games.  Multiple KU and MU fans were interviewed and all of them expressed their hatred for each other.  How sad, I thought to myself....that grown adults act in such a childish way.  Why can't we all just love each other and appreciate and respect each other in spite of our differences?

A few hours later, I turned the radio on in my car, just in time for the end of the MU/Norfolk State game.  As the clock ran out and the commentator announced that MU had dropped to the number 15 seed....








YESSSSSS!  YESSSSSS!  

(Fist pump - fist pump - fist pump!) 

SUCK IT YOU DIRTY TIGERS!!! 

WHAT'S UP NOW?  HUH?  HUH? 

(More fist pumping!  And my face probably looked like this guy's....)

I guess my journey to self actualization and ultimate maturity hit a little speed bump.  But good-golly, there's a part of my soul that rejoices when those punks go down!

Rock Chalk!



Wisdom

A wise and learned woman once said:

'Tis best for thou to empty thy bladder frequently,

for thou never knowest when thou may laugh unexpectedly.

Actually the woman wasn't wise or learned, rather she finally put two and two together after nearly wetting her pants on a daily basis.....with a growing fetus smashing her bladder. 

A flaw in marketing judgement

I appreciate fashion as much as the next girl....well, if said next girl also prefers to live in sweats and t-shirts.  I became a doctor purely so I could wear scrubs to work....just kidding.  Kind of. 

Anyhow.  I received this flier in the mail yesterday for the "designer denim event" at a pea in the pod.  They graciously included coupons for $20.00 off of selected designer jeans.  Fantastic!  Too bad the jeans are all uber-trendy and originally priced at over $200.00.  A few reasons why this is ridiculous:
1) There are starving children in Africa
2) I just bought a cute pair of maternity jeans at Target for $30.00
3) These are jeans that I could only wear for 5 months....or more depending on how many babies I have.  Okay, and maybe at Thanksgiving. 
4) Lets say I have one day off per week for 5 months.  That's 20 days.  That's at least $10.00 per wear.  Compare that to the Target jeans....just a little math test for you.  I'm all about preventing Alzheimer's. 
5) I don't care how fancy the jeans are, they don't make me look any thinner or less pregnant.


Which leads me to the picture on the flier:

(My apologies....I couldn't figure out how to change the orientation.  

Just cock your head.  Then call my dad to fix your neck.)

Where the frick did they find this emaciated pregnant chick?  She's probably not even pregnant.  They probably found some random model with a BMI of 12 and stuck a pillow under her shirt.  Um....does this make me A) Want to buy your stupid, overpriced skinny jeans?  Or B) Want to throw on my favorite granny-panties (thanks mom), Danny's sweat pants, an XL t-shirt with stains in the pits and climb into bed with a tub of ice cream and cry?  Yes...choice B.  And the shoes?  My pregnant ankles would swell up like sausages within 5 minutes of trying to wear those. 

So....pea in the pod....you need to fire your stupid marketing department, which is likely run by men and start the frick over.  Frick frick frick!  

And if you were wondering how to thoroughly infuriate a pregnant chick....well, now you know. 

Back to the VA - a blog for S. Rod....

To ensure my good standing as I return to the VA tomorrow, let me take a minute to give a big shout out to one of my favorite peeps, Stephanie Rodriguez. 

If you've stepped foot inside the KCVA as a medical student, internal medicine resident or fellow, you know Stephanie well.  She makes sure that we are all licensed, oriented, qualified, identified (with multiple sets of fingerprints), certified, familiarized and petrified.  She keeps us on our toes, threatens life and limb when discharge summaries are late and warns us about "special" medical students she's detected during the orientation process.  She also tells tales of a certain staff doctor that she dated in high school. Apparently he was kind of immature....shocker!

Hands down, her most important function is organizing snacks in the conference room.  For whatever reason, snack time occurs on a daily basis when I'm away from the VA ( I know this because I still get the notification on my pager), but as soon as I return, snack time essentially ceases to exist....why is this?  What does it all mean?  Stephanie?

So....my friend, expect to see me bright and early in the morning.  I have forgotten my password and I will need to get my computer access re-established.  Then I will need you to remind me how to forward the ID consults to my account.  And I have like, a million notifications I need you to help me delete.  I will also need some chocolate. Aren't you excited to see me????

CBart