The Walrus Said

Okay. The time has come. I'm starting to get annoyed with people on my surgery team, which means several things: First (and probably most relevant): I'm PMS-y. Happens every month, I should be used to it by now. But not. Second: they should really let me move onto another team now, while I still think that vascular surgeons are worthy and interesting people. Because we all know where this is heading, don't we? That's right. The more annoyed I get, the more I will deny the existence of my patients' vasculature, just to annoy any future vascular surgeons I may happen upon. This is not a good thing.

Okay. I really can only think of two things that my new annoyance means, but I think two is a good starting point. I can expand from there. And, really, the annoyance has just started. It's like...noticing that you've got a quarter in your shoe (why do you have a quarter in your shoe, weirdo?) At first, you're like "Huh. There's something in my shoe. What could it be?" Then you concentrate on it, identify it as twenty-five one-hundredths of a dollar, and then try to put it out of your mind, because you happen to be in the middle of a marathon, and besides, phone calls cost 35 cents now, anyway. What good in dwelling on a mere quarter? Then, after a short period of time during which you delude yourself into thinking that you are SO beyond presence of said quarter, it starts to rub. On your toe. In a really annoying, won't-go-away type fashion. "That's okay." you assure yourself, "I am bigger - literally and figuratively - than any quarter" And you continue limping along, silently seething, yet smiling on the outside, because you signed up for this freaking marathon, and are paying a gajillion dollars, so gosh-darn-it, you are going to finish it, and have fun in the process, even if the freaking quarter is ripping your foot to shreds. Shortly thereafter you let go, and start yelling at the other people in the race with you, hoping to relieve some physical pain by inflicting emotional pain on the people around you. And just for good measure, you shove a few as well. And maybe spit on a bystander or two. Eventually you do finish the race, but you're practically crippled, and have made enemies all around you, so you move to an invalid home in Siberia, because it's cold there (which may make your foot feel better) and you don't speak the language, so no one can tell you to get off your lazy butt and start walking somewhere. Because don't they know you've got a freaking QUARTER embedded in your freaking CALCANEUS!!!!!!!!!!!!

SEE? This is just not a good thing. Which is why I should be allowed to Pass vascular surgery after just a week and a half. I'm only at the 'identifying it's a quarter' stage. There is so much more to come. Let me go now, and we'll all be winners.

I'm on call. But I got sent home before 8pm. Okay... so I like some people on my team. But he's going into urology, not vascular surgery.