I've lost my damn room key. Do I report it and risk humiliation? Do I leave my room open and risk getting my stuff stolen. Or do I do what everybody else does and lock it and open it with a knife later on?
My running buddy David, another PA, leaves today to get trained in his new assignment at another base. Bummer, I guess there's always Skype...
Attention Muslims: Stop killing people over the idiot in Florida. Enough already. OK he burned the Koran, he's a dumb ass, but over react much? Our constitution allows him to do that. Your religion does not allow you to kill Innocent people who had nothing to do with it. So knock it the hell off. Makes you look bad.
Attention American forces: Quit killing Innocent Muslims and Afghans that are minding there own business. Jesus Christ people, just 'cause you're in a vehicle and stopped to have a picnic and pray doesn't mean that it's OK to send a Predator and A-10's to kill families and children because you were in a hurry to "neutralize the threat." What threat? "Blue leader, looks like Naan and chapli kebab but could be a Frisbee mounted IED, going to guns." Makes us look bad.
I replaced the F word with hell. Made me look bad.
I'm so glad that I brought my Ipod.
Wednesday, June 25, 2014
Trains, planes, and automobiles...oh, and a sailboat
 |
| Me at the helm with the GGB in the background |
 |
| Jay and Robert |
We flew Southwest airlines back from Indiana. So nice. No expectations, so no disappointments. Just some sodas and a bag of snacks and nice flight attendants. One sang at the end of the flight. And then at the end of her announcement said,"...and if you're connecting with another airline, we just don't care." Gotta love that.
I think that they're trying to tell me something...C
Well, my teaching gig of 20 years is closing. In one email, they begged me to teach a class next month, in another, they told me that they are shutting the doors at the end of this month. I'm soooooo confused. So now I need a gig until June 23.
OK, found one. A friend is offering "house call services" in the Bay area. Already did a couple of shifts, only get paid if you get calls. Calls to houses, apartments and hotels. One of my first shifts was during the Bay to Breakers race. For those not familiar with this event it is 7 miles of craziness disguised as a race. A race with alcohol, costumes and nakedness. Yes, must be San Francisco. Of course I got a call at a hotel right in the middle of the madness. The person was from out of town and when I tried to explain to him that it would be awhile to get to him, after I tried to even get close, with no luck, I told him to look out of his hotel window. "Oh," he said. "I see what you mean."
OK, found one. A friend is offering "house call services" in the Bay area. Already did a couple of shifts, only get paid if you get calls. Calls to houses, apartments and hotels. One of my first shifts was during the Bay to Breakers race. For those not familiar with this event it is 7 miles of craziness disguised as a race. A race with alcohol, costumes and nakedness. Yes, must be San Francisco. Of course I got a call at a hotel right in the middle of the madness. The person was from out of town and when I tried to explain to him that it would be awhile to get to him, after I tried to even get close, with no luck, I told him to look out of his hotel window. "Oh," he said. "I see what you mean."
"Captain's log star date.." Oh wait, "Medical officers log…"
In 4 hours I become the Medical Officer for TS Golden Bear. Along with a physician, we will be responsible for the medical care of 330 students, crew and staff while sailing the Pacific ocean. What could possibly go wrong? OK, don't answer that. Being on California time and going to bed early, I woke up at 0400 Hawaii time in a hotel overlooking the harbor. Took E on a tour of the ship last night and she enjoyed "Captain's cocktail" hour, the last alcohol on the ship for awhile. She saw my cabin, which really is spacious and sickbay and the ward, along with the Ward room, the dining room for us officer types. One of the Docs is using the "Star Trek" model for his relationship with the Captain. Does this make me Nurse Chapel? Please, please don't make him say "He's dead, Jim." Or in this case, "He's dead, Sam." Nope, not on our watch. Literally.
We will be in Port for a few days, changing crew and cadets. Getting settled in and figuring out our way around a 500 foot long ship. I'm semi-familiar with it but I already got lost giving E the tour to the ward room. I ended up near the gym in the bottom of the ship. Of course I explained that it was all part of the tour. She didn't buy it...
Thursday, May 29, 2014
Sandmedic meet Sailmedic, again.
In less than a month a new adventure begins. Off to the a ships medical officer on the Training ship Golden Bear. A ship that trains future US Merchant Marines. Part of the California State University system. It is already on "cruise 1" and I will fly to Hawaii to start "cruise 2" on June 25. Me and a physician. What could possibly go wrong?
The ship will sail to Vietnam, Saipan, Korea, San Diego and then back to Vallejo where it departed a month ago. They have had to bypass Vietnam on this cruise because the Chinese and the Vietnamese are not playing well with each other. And it involves ships. And gunfire. And ramming. Jesus, can't I get away from this stuff? So, I thought I would fire up the ole blog and see what happens. There is limited or no internet on the ship but I will endeavor to post when I can.
Stay tuned.
"This is a test. This is only a test, if this were an actual blog you would of been directed …."
The ship will sail to Vietnam, Saipan, Korea, San Diego and then back to Vallejo where it departed a month ago. They have had to bypass Vietnam on this cruise because the Chinese and the Vietnamese are not playing well with each other. And it involves ships. And gunfire. And ramming. Jesus, can't I get away from this stuff? So, I thought I would fire up the ole blog and see what happens. There is limited or no internet on the ship but I will endeavor to post when I can.
Stay tuned.
"This is a test. This is only a test, if this were an actual blog you would of been directed …."
Saturday, May 18, 2013
It's 2013, I'm baack, and I got my redhead ass kicked...
After not finding a better (is there one?) alternative job, I have returned to Condo B and the Lake clinic in Yellowstone National Park for the summer. I had a side trip to Cuba for two weeks, but that's a different story. E and I packed up the car and made the 3 day trek to the Park. We made a side trip through Salt Lake City so I could have my "Trusted Traveler interview with Customs. They said it would take months to get an interview. It only took two weeks. Huh, who'd a thunk that the gov-mn't would become efficient?
I have been here two weeks and have been through orientation. My buddy Tim, the other PA went to Afghanistan then Iraq and then back to Salt Lake City, but that's a whole 'nother story. It is great because lots of other folks are back and will make it easier to train the new folks and solve the never ending challenges of working amongst the bison and bullshit that comes with working at 8000 feet in a National Park 85 miles from the closet hospital and 200 miles from the closest trauma center. All in a days work.
Speaking of which...
I did my first shift at the Old Faithful Clinic. Opening day, should be quiet. Nothing but a physical and a boo-boo or "ouwie" or two. It's about an hour drive from Lake. Probably the most beautiful commute on the planet. Lake to the left of me, geysers to the right of me. Maybe a bison or bear jam, but wtf I can't believe that they pay me for this. Then I arrived at the clinic. There were two people waiting outside for me. One had his hand wrapped in a towel with an ice pack. The other, well...
Hand guy had had a drink or two and punched a wall. He ended up with a boxer fracture. I wonder why they call it that? He got a splint and a call to Mom to explain that he was no longer employed, needed a plane ticket home and an Orthopedic surgeon. Oh, yeah, by the way can you put me back on your insurance? Man number 2 wanted antibiotics until October when he had saved up enough money to have his rotten tooth pulled. Seriously, I think not. I found him a dentist who will pull his tooth for a low fee. On Wednesday. Please leave my clinic now. Then the tail of two balls. One ball for each young man who came in back to back with a complaint of "swollen testicle." OK, only one had that complaint. The other was too shy to tell the female nurse about his swollen nut. He said "groin pain." He was so relieved that there was a male PA working that day. I checked out his swollen manhood and decided that he need an ultrasound. There is a condition called "testicular torsion" that can kill a testicle. I called around and found him an ultrasound. An hour and a half drive away. No problem for him, he jumped into his car and was on his way. Just a shot and antibiotics for grande cojones number two (dos?). I told him about the shot and he asked me if it was going to be in his nut. {long pause} The wheels started turning, the angel and devil appeared on each shoulder, but professionalism kicked in at an inappropriate time and I advised him that it would be in the butt, not the nut. Then I saw bronchitis, a growth on an ear, shortness of breath because of stuffed up nose and altitude, and a request for a therapy dog. Seriously. Long story that I can't tell. At the end of the day in walked a dizzy man about to pass out. Pulse of 150 and dehydrated. Did I mention his chest pain three days ago? Neither did he. I know what you're thinking, helicopter. Not so fast rotor boy. I gave him 800cc's of IV fluid, slowed his heart rate down and re-did his EKG which was flashing "STEMI alert" I wasn't buying it. After his pulse slowed a wee bit the STEMI (google it) alert went away. He got an ambulance ride for some blood tests and observation. During all this the phone rang with a message for me to call the ultrasound tech. Cool, a report on dude number one, probably all good, or to tell me that he sent him to the ER for treatment. His exact words were, "you're dude has cancer on his left nut." I said, out loud, to the clinic "Fuck!" Maybe a little too loud. I got a wee talking to about it. Didn't really care. He has to come back to the clinic for the news. I won't be there. I had to call my relief to explain the situation to her. Imagine how happy she was about that. Maybe I can write her a prescription for a therapy dog...
I have been here two weeks and have been through orientation. My buddy Tim, the other PA went to Afghanistan then Iraq and then back to Salt Lake City, but that's a whole 'nother story. It is great because lots of other folks are back and will make it easier to train the new folks and solve the never ending challenges of working amongst the bison and bullshit that comes with working at 8000 feet in a National Park 85 miles from the closet hospital and 200 miles from the closest trauma center. All in a days work.
Speaking of which...
I did my first shift at the Old Faithful Clinic. Opening day, should be quiet. Nothing but a physical and a boo-boo or "ouwie" or two. It's about an hour drive from Lake. Probably the most beautiful commute on the planet. Lake to the left of me, geysers to the right of me. Maybe a bison or bear jam, but wtf I can't believe that they pay me for this. Then I arrived at the clinic. There were two people waiting outside for me. One had his hand wrapped in a towel with an ice pack. The other, well...
Hand guy had had a drink or two and punched a wall. He ended up with a boxer fracture. I wonder why they call it that? He got a splint and a call to Mom to explain that he was no longer employed, needed a plane ticket home and an Orthopedic surgeon. Oh, yeah, by the way can you put me back on your insurance? Man number 2 wanted antibiotics until October when he had saved up enough money to have his rotten tooth pulled. Seriously, I think not. I found him a dentist who will pull his tooth for a low fee. On Wednesday. Please leave my clinic now. Then the tail of two balls. One ball for each young man who came in back to back with a complaint of "swollen testicle." OK, only one had that complaint. The other was too shy to tell the female nurse about his swollen nut. He said "groin pain." He was so relieved that there was a male PA working that day. I checked out his swollen manhood and decided that he need an ultrasound. There is a condition called "testicular torsion" that can kill a testicle. I called around and found him an ultrasound. An hour and a half drive away. No problem for him, he jumped into his car and was on his way. Just a shot and antibiotics for grande cojones number two (dos?). I told him about the shot and he asked me if it was going to be in his nut. {long pause} The wheels started turning, the angel and devil appeared on each shoulder, but professionalism kicked in at an inappropriate time and I advised him that it would be in the butt, not the nut. Then I saw bronchitis, a growth on an ear, shortness of breath because of stuffed up nose and altitude, and a request for a therapy dog. Seriously. Long story that I can't tell. At the end of the day in walked a dizzy man about to pass out. Pulse of 150 and dehydrated. Did I mention his chest pain three days ago? Neither did he. I know what you're thinking, helicopter. Not so fast rotor boy. I gave him 800cc's of IV fluid, slowed his heart rate down and re-did his EKG which was flashing "STEMI alert" I wasn't buying it. After his pulse slowed a wee bit the STEMI (google it) alert went away. He got an ambulance ride for some blood tests and observation. During all this the phone rang with a message for me to call the ultrasound tech. Cool, a report on dude number one, probably all good, or to tell me that he sent him to the ER for treatment. His exact words were, "you're dude has cancer on his left nut." I said, out loud, to the clinic "Fuck!" Maybe a little too loud. I got a wee talking to about it. Didn't really care. He has to come back to the clinic for the news. I won't be there. I had to call my relief to explain the situation to her. Imagine how happy she was about that. Maybe I can write her a prescription for a therapy dog...
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Hello my name is Mark and I'm here to ruin your vacation...
Nothing is simple in life and doubley so at the little clinic by the big lake. Last night we had two major lightening storms, two sick patients and two helicopter flights out of here. It is quite weird watching lightening strike around the clinic, watching the power go out and then calling to launch a helicopter. "This too shall pass,'" we say when it comes to storms.
My first patient had 6 surgeries in the past year and half and now had a hot red abdomen. I'm thinking that I would be the cause of number 7. And {ding} I was right. Just as I left to go home, the phone rang for me to come back and check out a young woman having chest pain. Dodging lightening on the way to the clinic, I'm thinking, "nothing flying tonight." Nope, wrong. Storm passes, helicopter lands, and off she goes. She was a mystery to us and a mystery to the cardiologist in Idaho Falls.
Noone wants to leave the Park. They waited for ever and paid a lot of money for this trip. Plus Aunt Blabby from East Dearsperm Nebraska, who never leaves her house, has consented to come here to see her long lost nephew who joined the Latvian Merchant Marines at age 8 who has come to Jellystone to "reconnect with his family." Unfortunatly, Uncle Blabby has had the big one and needs to go. Uncle B doesn't want to ruin the Blabby family's vacation. And so the negotiation starts. Where to send him, how to send him. No, you can't drive your motorhome back to Nebraska. No, we can't fly you to the Mayo clinic (actual request). No, I can't rent you an oxygen tank for a week so that you don't turn blue walking to the bathroom (actual request). All y'all-we are at 8,00 feet. Not the place to come with your emphysema..I'm just sayin'...
My first patient had 6 surgeries in the past year and half and now had a hot red abdomen. I'm thinking that I would be the cause of number 7. And {ding} I was right. Just as I left to go home, the phone rang for me to come back and check out a young woman having chest pain. Dodging lightening on the way to the clinic, I'm thinking, "nothing flying tonight." Nope, wrong. Storm passes, helicopter lands, and off she goes. She was a mystery to us and a mystery to the cardiologist in Idaho Falls.
Noone wants to leave the Park. They waited for ever and paid a lot of money for this trip. Plus Aunt Blabby from East Dearsperm Nebraska, who never leaves her house, has consented to come here to see her long lost nephew who joined the Latvian Merchant Marines at age 8 who has come to Jellystone to "reconnect with his family." Unfortunatly, Uncle Blabby has had the big one and needs to go. Uncle B doesn't want to ruin the Blabby family's vacation. And so the negotiation starts. Where to send him, how to send him. No, you can't drive your motorhome back to Nebraska. No, we can't fly you to the Mayo clinic (actual request). No, I can't rent you an oxygen tank for a week so that you don't turn blue walking to the bathroom (actual request). All y'all-we are at 8,00 feet. Not the place to come with your emphysema..I'm just sayin'...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)