Saturday, August 15, 2009

Irrational to the MAX

If I ever needed a reminder of how severe my arachnophobia is (which I don't, in case you were wondering), last night fit the bill. I don't know if I was comforted or dismayed that Laura's fear seems to mirror my own. Right down to the pitch of the scream. One spider would have been bad enough. One huge, brown, blend-into-the-woodwork-so-your-mom-whose-vision-is-shot-can't-see-him-to-kill-him spider. I was trying to hold a flashlight beam on him, but my hand was shaking so the light was bouncing anywhere but where it needed to be. And Laura is halfway across the room with her shorts balled in her fists hyperventilating. We had a nice good laugh about it. Then I walk into my room and there is another one perched on a poster behind my door. Another scream, and some obnoxious orders for my mom to get her butt back downstairs. And then a third one in my bathroom. Like I said, last night was special. Laura and I both had spider dreams waking us with a gasp this morning.

I wish I understood my phobia. It's not acceptable for an intelligent 25-year-old to be paralyzed in such a way, by something that I could easily crush under my foot. Not that I would, because then I would have to get close to it. Plus, the first spider last night might not have fit under my shoe. (My mom would argue that point, but she doesn't get to be part of the conversation because writing is a way to talk without being interrupted.) I hate feeling so overwhelmed and helpless. Fortunately, nights like last night happen rarely. I mean, to that degree. Me screaming at spiders is actually a relatively common occurrence. It's not uplifting to have your parents laughing at you, but if that's the price I pay for somebody else killing it, that's tolerable.

Here's hoping that I marry somebody who can crush the creepy-crawlies without too much dismay. And that my new house has few causes for the irrationality to come bursting through.

Friday, August 14, 2009

Strep Ho-Ho

Whoa, watch out. I know it's been a LONG time since I've posted. And that's really the reason why I'm posting. I tried to have a conversation with my dad last night about one of my patients. Only I had to stop and clarify about every third word because apparently non-medical professionals understand less than I thought. Can you imagine if I tried to talk to my dad about Strep Ho-Ho? That's what my coworkers call Streptococcus Hominis Hominis. And it made me laugh, but I think you had to be there. Every once in a while when I'm on rounds I pause to think what an outsider might do if they were forced to listen in. And I'm amazed at how much of it makes sense to me when even a year ago, I might have felt like the dunce.

The last two days I've gotten to round with the pulmonary team and our wonderful pulmonary pharmacist. We've seen a lot of CF-ers (one of the reasons why it took me twenty minutes to explain something to my dad), and a lot of cute kids. I've alternately been grateful for my health, sympathetic toward parents, angry at our "bandaid society" (which I don't really feel like writing about), overwhelmed at the amount of knowledge I should know for my job, and in awe at how adorable kids are even when they are feeling their worst. I hope many days are just like the last two days, because then I can rest easy at night knowing that I am in the right career at the right institution.

And now I'm going to regress to my pre-doctorate days and finish watching 17 Again with my family.
I reserve the right to make this blog as worthless to read as I feel like, and also to write as infrequently as I deem necessary. Just thought I'd let you know since I finally decided to share my blog.