Juxtapose

Meeting up with Emvee in Boston tonight for an impromptu It's-A-Really-Nice-Day-Out-For-New-England-In-February evening after he gets out of work. I like to ride the train in and feel like I have some exciting purpose in the Big City, even though I really work in Manchester and Lowell, the Not Quite So Big cities. Nobody has to know that, though. If you zip around without consulting a million maps and looking like a big dweeb with some dorky fannypack on and a bucket hat, I feel like maybe nobody is the wiser. Nobody has to know that the most exciting thing I did on my day off today was sit in the Borders cafe in new Hampshire with my lame decaf coffee trying to wade through the labwork and symptom interpretations for my critical care final for work. Or that I have the overwhelming urge to take a nap right now. Oh, and I also spent about twenty minutes peeling and consuming a grapefruit while watching the news this morning. The Morning News! I watched the morning news! I've met chinchillas who lead more exciting lives than I do.

Anyways, even though I've been into Boston a million times and it's kind of old hat to Mark because he's there every day for work, I still feel like its sort of an adventure when I go. I stuff my bag full of crap I don't need, as if there's nowhere in Boston to buy chapstick or tylenol. I layer clothing. I leave the passwords to all my offshore bank accounts and the key to my teenage diary out on the kitchen table so that my parents can break in to my apartment and have access to all my important assets, should I not make it back from this endeavor. I preemptively bequeath my ceedee collection to Chaz, who I know is the only one in my family who would possibly appreciate it the way I do. I bring a protein snack in case of fatigue.

I'm going to Boston tonight in the sunshine to see Mark and eat food, two of my favorite things.

Like I said, an adventure.

I've gotten used to the Spaz-O-Rama party in my gut. Sort of. Every time I get a moment to sit at work (which happens only about, oh, four or five times during the day), suddenly Baby gets fidgety just in time for me to stuff down lunch, displacing my organs as I try to munch down my sandwich. It feels like there is a fish in there. I feel like a fishbowl. This happens at any given relaxing moment when I feel like settling down. This must be how it feels for Mark to sit next to me - the second you try to settle down on the couch to enjoy a movie, suddenly I have an itch, or my toe feels funny in that spot, or my arm falls asleep. I know I'm no prize in terms of the art of sitting still. Even so, I find it ironic to be on the receiving end of fidgets. Sorry, Emvee, you're right - it really does stink to be you.

Also, despite the cuteness factor of this big belly and the excitement it brings to me, I have to say that this baby has no regard whatsoever for my personal comfort and has decided to kick my right lowest rib lately. Either that, or wedge its head there. I'm not sure which end is which. Does that make me a bad mother?

I feel confident that the "which end is which" question will be much clearer in a few months' time.

I got hugs from all three of my patients today when I left for the day. This is a new record.

Patient number one, because I was Greek and if you tell an old Greek man in his eighties that you're Greek, they get a huge kick out of it and you're automatically "in" no matter what - I always pick them out by their names (Mr. Blablahblahopolous or Socrates Nomnomnomonos or something) and let them know I appreciate their Greekness first thing after introducing myself at the beginning of the shift. After that, I can do no wrong.

I got a hug from patient number two, a very crabby and curmudgeony type, because I let him "teach" me how to do his illeostomy appliance. He was VERY upset that the previous shifts had been doing everything for him and telling him how he should do stuff when all the guy wanted to do was change his own poop bag. I say that any day that a person wants to change their own poo bag and I don't have to is a good day, amirite?!?!

Patient number three was just really sweet. A few minutes before leaving, she was sleeping and I told her family to let her know, when she woke up, that I said goodbye and hoped she did well because I wouldn't be around tomorrow, the day she gets sent home. I got chased down the hall a few minutes later by her daughter who said her mom wanted to say goodbye herself. She said she had absolutely nothing bad to say about her stay there. That's a new one to me - nobody really ever ENJOYS being at the hospital, obviously.

Killer day, today. The sun was glinting through the skyline of the city and I could see it through the windows, and I could tell that it was warm and welcoming outside. By the time I left work, the sunshine had gone and was replaced by the warm springy smell of the grey after a short rainshower. It was fresh and clean and melted a lot of the dirty snow that has been hanging around for too long. It was a really nice drive home.

I'm waiting for my best friend to come home and then we are getting celebratory slurpees from 7-11 because they are full of sugar and preservatives so I can get Baby VDH off to a healthy start in life. I love today.

Did you know this week is National Radon Awareness Week?

And here I thought the holidays were over after last Friday's "Wear Red for Heart Disease" day.

1. Practice sword-swallowing.

2. Buy on credit only.

3. Adopt a feral skunk.

4. (If you're a male) Get arrested, put in the clink, and introduce yourself to the others as "Elizabeth."

5. Go play in a dumpster in a dark alley in Boston.

6. Pick at a bug bite until you develop a festering wound of unknown etiology.

7. Play chicken with a train.

8. Pinch a member of the British Royal Guard on the bum.

9. Take off your space helmet while you're doing a moonwalk.

10. Drive really fast.

11. Wear stilettos on a hockey rink during a Canadian game.

12. Experiment with those vials of ebola variants you found lying around in your Dad's 1940's-era highschool lab kit

13. Juggle water balloons filled with skin-searing acid.

14. Go skydiving every weekend.

15. Get pregnant and go out into public situations to talk to people while your kid, in utero, kicks you repeatedly in the bladder.