my love

I love this little man.

My Oscar Bob. Look at that face! Ah. Love of my life.

He's so little and sweet and soft. He likes to nap as much as I do. And he's a good snuggler. He is always excited to see me when I get home. Shoot, even if I go pee, he's excited to see me when I walk back out the bathroom door. Maybe he has short term memory problems...

Anyway, OB doesn't mind that I'm a little messy. He doesn't tell me to pick my shoes up off the floor. He doesn't complain if I'm a little moody. He's pretty much always interested in what I have to say. He likes The Bachelor and Criminal Minds. He's such a good little pal.

All this guy wants in life is someone to throw his tennis ball.

I can do that.

They say people with dogs tend to live longer. I get that.

Movin' on

Well, thanks be to the LORD that I'm done with Psychiatry. I guess that was harsh. I mean, it was fine, but it's just not my thing. I like to do things. I like to fix things. I just don't get these people. I wanted to roll my eyes and say things like "Please." or "Stop acting like that." I don't think that should be the kind of attitude a good Psychiatrist has. Thus, I think I've checked it off my list of future careers. 


Yesterday I started ENT, and after a morning of cleaning large amounts of earwax out of old men's ears, my love of medicine had been renewed. I was strangely satisfied by those clean ear canals. However, before I move on, I wanted to summarize my experience in Psychiatry because it was definitely interesting and largely entertaining at times. There were so many good stories, but in lieu of violating confidentiality and being targeted by the HIPAA Nazis, I'll just leave you with a few quotes:

"I have no empathy for this guy. In fact, I'd like to set him on fire. Don't you? Just a little bit?"

"The cold. It's in my mouth. The jaw keeps puttin' it there." (Repeat statement x15 days.)

Patient: "Please don't make me go through the obstacle course. Especially the haystacks. I can't go through the haystacks."

Doctor: "Yeah... we should really stop making people do that."

"Can somebody explain to me why I pay this institution $14,000 a year, and I can ONLY have 2 pairs of scrubs, but the borderline who overdosed for attention then vomited all over her clothes gets to have them? And the schizophrenic with syphilis who has his own pajama pants is sporting a pair? And this noncompliant, no-pay going to Whitfield gets some? Are you freakin kidding me?! We deserve two more pieces of $5 blue cloth!"

(Next day, in a patient's room) Attending: "Let's get out of here before Laura goes into a blind rage because the patient is wearing scrubs."

"Wouldn't you be upset if (the tech) gave you a bath every morning? I can see that. Tyler, tomorrow, let Andrew give you a bath and see if it makes you aggressive. Then we'll reasses."

"Does [the 60-something year old patient] really have breast implants?"

"I don't know."

"Find out. Physical exam."

"Oh, God.."

"I'm kidding."

"[Something about nitrous oxide.]"

"Did he just say to get the patient some socks and an erection??"

"Does anybody know what just happened??"

[I can't stop laughing while trying to present a patient case.]

"Are you going to be able to get it together?"

"I don't think so. There's a bit of an exhibition going on in the group room behind you."

"Was that Santa Claus? Did you see that guy? Wow. Christmas in July, huh?"

"Sir, I think Don King has filed a class-action lawsuit against you."

"I don't get it. I just don't understand why anybody would..."

"Stop. Do not try to understand. What floor are we on?"

"Oh. Right. 7th."

"Exactly."

"Cannibal. Butcher. That's really all you need to know."

"Bye-bye, Mr. Vampire."

"Do you want to be admitted to the inpatient psychiatric unit? We can give you some treatments to get these voices to go away."

"But I kinda like the voice. He seems nice. I'm comfortable with him."

"You don't want the voice to go away?"

"Not really. I might get lonely."

"Does anybody know how much you can buy Xanax for on the streets?"

"10 bucks?"

"Damn boy, you must be buying yo' Xanax in Eastover. Try again."

............and my favorite,

"Call Condoleezza Rice! Condoleezza knows the truth!"

It was quite an experience, to say the least, but it's time to move on.

Critters: Chapter 1, The Rattlesnake

This may be one of those you-had-to-be-there kind of stories, but I swear this is one of the funniest things that has ever happened to me.

I'm kind of minimally afraid of snakes. I mean, I guess I'd probably freak out if I had a surprise close encounter with an unknown species in the wilderness, but as long as I know I'm a safe distance, I kind of like to watch them. I like to look at them at the pet store. I have held non-poisonous ones in controlled environments. It makes me feel brave. I think they're interesting creatures. All this really has nothing to do with my story.

A few weeks ago, my dad, my uncle, my sister, and I were returning from my Papaw's visitation. My family lives in the country. I mean, the cowntry. So we pull into the long, gravel driveway in my dad's F150. We are in the woods. The sticks, if you will. He and my uncle are wearing suits. Katie and I are wearing dresses and heels. It's solemn. I remember being so emotionally and physically exhausted, I was almost numb. 

Suddenly, the quiet, sad mood was interrupted as my dad slammed on the brakes and I flew forward into the back of the front passenger seat. "What the crap?!" No response. He threw it into reverse, and slammed on the accelerator, as we all sustained whiplash. "Daddy!" Uncle Gary could see what was going on, but Katie and I, in the backseat, were bewildered. Finally, after we had repeated this accelerate-brake-reverse sequence a couple more times, he mumbled "Rattlesnake." Except I thought he said something about a rabbit. Now I thought for a split second that my father was running over bunnies. I was mortified. What does he have against rabbits?? These thoughts were fleeting, though, because I suddenly saw what we were killing. Oh my gah. It was a 5-foot-ish rattlesnake. 

Mike Arnold had no intentions of letting that sucker live. Suddenly, he grabs a pistol and jumps out of the truck. I see him raise the gun toward the snake, then he lowers it. He yells, "I can't see!" He comes back around the car door, and I see that his glasses are fogged up. I howled. Here is my dad, in a suit, trying to kill a snake at 11:00 at night, and his glasses are fogged up. It was hilarious. He wiped them off. They fogged back up. I laughed. He took them off; he still couldn't see. I was crying I was laughing so hard.

At this point, Katie has gotten out of the truck. She wants to see. My uncle is yelling at her. (My Uncle Gary will be the first person to tell you he wants nothing to do with a snake.) So he's yelling, "Katie! Get in the truck! Get back in the truck! He's not dead!" My father realizes that she is definitely within striking distance, and yanks her back toward the truck. Chaos. Yelling. Fogging. 

Everyone gets back in the truck. We drive up to the house, and these two men on a mission go inside the house. I thought this ordeal was over, and I stayed outside to make a phone call. Moments later, daddy and Uncle Gary return with my other uncle and a shotgun. Please visualize this: 3 men in suits and ties walking side-by-side down a long, pitch-dark, gravel driveway with a shotgun and a spotlight. I cracked up again. A shotgun? Really? It's not a buffalo. It's a snake. But I guess they probably know more about snake-killing than I do. Who do I think I am? I wish I had a picture. It was very Men in Black, yet very Franklin County. I could not stop laughing. A couple of cousins came outside, and I couldn't even speak. I had been so sad all day, and I don't know if I was delirious or if my soul was in such need of a moment of happiness, but I couldn't stop laughing. My stomach hurt. I probably snorted. I'm sure the snake was dead. They, apparently, were not so confident. I watch them walk down in silence, out of sight. 

BOOM! 

Silent pause. 

BOOM! 

Footsteps.

The Men in Black reappeared, victorious. 

Uncle Gary, the snake-hater, was grinning. "We made him a Christian."

Amen.

delivery.

I hate snail mail. Perhaps it is due to my upbringing in this digital generation. No instant gratification involved with the United States Postal Service, that's for sure. Or, maybe it's just due to the fact that, let's be honest, patience isn't exactly my greatest attribute.

I'd been waiting for my camera for 7 days. Everyday I'd get so excited when I got home, rush to check by the front door, only to be disappointed. No package. Deflation.

USPS, why did you have to go from Kentucky to Minnesota to Southaven, MS, then back to Minnesota? You were so close! The government is irritating in so many ways. That could be a blog post. "100+ ways the government annoys me." (Side note: the mailmen and women do not annoy me. They're friendly people.)

Finally, yesterday, there was indeed a package by the door. DELIVERY. It felt like Christmas. Wahoo!! I'm so excited. I might have hugged the mailman if I had seen him. Fortunately for him, I did not.

I've been reading and experimenting. If you have any photography tips, holler!

So, let me catch you up on my life... with new pictures!

First of all, there is a lizard that lives in and around my Gerbera daisy. We named him Clarence after we watched the movie Airplane. "Roger, Roger. We have clearance, Clarence. What's our vector, Victor?" You should only watch that movie if you've had 2 or more martinis. Otherwise, you won't make it. So here's Clarence:

He's pretty cool. Grayce discovered him, and she sits by the window that's in front of this table and stares at him. She punches the window and whines. It's pretty funny.

Clarence:

Grayce wanting to eat Clarence:

I really, really hope that she doesn't eat Clarence. Sick.

Last night, a few girls came over and ate dinner. I made chicken salad. Yummmm. I took a picture of it, but I didn't take any the rest of the night. I know, I know... brand new camera and I didn't take any pictures! It needed to charge completely, and we were so busy catching up and laughing at Jessie and Lyssa's stories, I just forgot. I haven't laughed that hard in a long time. It was good for my soul. And my abs.

And then I took a picture of my apples just because 1) I liked the colors and 2) I have a new camera.

Today, I took these pictures of Grayce and Oscar Bob. This little scenario happens at least 3 times a day. If you know Oscar Bob, you know he is obsessed with his tennis ball. I've never seen anything like it in my life. Well, Grayce's favorite thing to do is take it away from him, and stare at him while he whines. She's such a bully.

Oscar's just playing. Minding his own business.

Grayce steals his ball and gloats. She doesn't even want it. She just keeps it where he can't get it.

Oscar cries. Please notice how he is sitting on the pillow.

Poor buddy. He's hard to take pictures of because he's always moving. They always end up at least a little blurry. This little man does not sit still. Eva.

Look at those claws. Talons. 

Lastly, this is one of my favorite pictures of Grayce. I just love that sad face. I took this with my old camera, and I was just messing around with effects. It's not a very good quality picture because it was dark, but I like how it turned out.

Gotta go. Grayce is in a frenzy and I think she's about to claw through the window to get to Clarence.

my BIG purchase

My sister is impulsive. She buys purses like she's Paris Hilton. She is a t-shirt-and-Nike-shorts kind of girl, but somehow she has a much more impressive wardrobe than I do... which is pretty unfortunate, considering she just moved out. Bye-bye, cute clothes, earrings, and purses that I've been using for the past 2 years... Sad day. Sigh.

Anyway, that's not the point. The point is that I am not impulsive by any stretch of the imagination. I'm a saver. She's a spender. I like to look at my savings account and see a good chunk of change in it. It makes me feel good about life. I like knowing that I can buy something if I want to. I wonder if Katie even has a savings account?

She's getting annoyed reading this. Katie, come back. I miss you... (and your clothes.)


So last night I did a very difficult thing for me. I pretty much depleted my savings account. It was so hard. I hesitated. Twice. At least. But now that I'm (almost) over my pretty-much-nonexistent-savings-account, I'm getting pretty pumped about my prize.

I bought a Canon Rebel T1i Digital SLR camera. WAHOO!! I'm pretty dadgum excited about it. I ordered it, so I won't get it for a few more days, but ohhh buddy I'm ready to take some pictures. I've been reading about apertures, shutter speeds, and ISO speeds. That makes me feel cool. Not that I have any idea what I'm doing. I mean, I'm qualified to hold a camera. That's about it. I'm excited to learn though! Matt even bought me a photography magazine... and a milkshake that gave me a stomachache, but that's another story.

So, there ya go, Mama. I posted a new blog for ya.

And if anyone was considering stealing my identity, don't bother. I ain't got nothin' in the bank.

Tuesday update.

I started my Psychiatry rotation yesterday. Looks like I have six weeks of pretty good quality entertainment ahead of me. That's terrible to say... but let's be honest... it's true. I mean, apparently I just missed Jesus in the ER yesterday. Dadgummit.

(Also, just so you know, Condoleezza Rice knows the truth.)

In other news, just in case you weren't aware, the heat index reached 120 in Jackson today. Humidity above 80%. ONE HUNDRED TWENTY DEGREES FAHRENHEIT. I don't know what the actual temperature was, but who cares? What difference does it make if it felt like 120!!! (You know, I don't really get that whole "heat index" thing. Maybe this is the dumbest statement I've ever made, but I mean, if it feels like 120 degrees, how is that not the temperature? What's the point of an actual temperature if that's not what it feels like? I mean, is it just humans? Was it a mere 105 degrees for Oscar Bob today? Did my plant enjoy the actual temperature or did it "feel like" 120 to my gerbera daisy? See what I mean? Dumb. If it feels like 120, it is 120 as far as I'm concerned.) This is a joke. I can't live in this oppressive sauna much longer. Where am I? Death Valley? Ethiopia? Hell?? I need popsicles.

It's SHARK WEEK!!!!

One word of advice: if you or your loved one is ever unfortunate enough to have to be in the ICU, do not, under any circumstances, feel as if it is okay to light up a cigarette inside the ICU. Good grief. I mean, I didn't think people were that stupid, but as Rhonda would say, that's what I get for thinkin'. No cigs in the ICU. Thanks.

Somebody remind me to give Oscar Bob his heartworm pill tomorrow. Gracias.

Happy Tuesday.

spray paint, escape routes, and cows

I really need to stop watching HGTV. It's making me feel like my home decor is crappy, and I've been on a home improvement rampage. I rearranged the furniture, bought a flower pot, cleaned out and reorganized the guest room and closet (tubs complete with labels... my mother wouldn't believe it.), refinished a chest of drawers (well, in the process.. we'll see how it turns out..), and bought a new bedspread (which I've needed since Grayce peed and vomited on the one I had a year and a half ago. I've been using random, unmatching blankets... My room looked like a boy's college dorm room.)

So here is my semi-finished table project. I spray-painted his table that was brown and rusty. Mama, are you proud? My mother thinks you can spray paint absolutely anything. She loves to spray paint. That's her answer to everything.. "We could spray paint it!" Seriously. Everything.

Well, it's not quite done. Who chooses the hottest week of the summer to do outside projects? Genius. It needs another coat, but until Wal-Mart re-supplies their Ivy Leaf spray paint inventory and/or the temperature drops below 100 degrees, it's on hold. I like it. I have been looking for cushions for the chairs, but you would not believe how difficult it is to find round outdoor cushions! I mean nowhere. So anyway, semi-finished. Good enough for now.

On an entirely different note, one of our locks is broken. I don't know what happened, but when I tried to unlock the deadbolt today, it resulted in this:

 
Awesome. During this process, the lock was not unlocked. So our back door is deadbolted, and I don't have a key to open it. Now, that would be fine, except that there are 3 dogs in my house right now. They needed to pee. It was 110 degrees outside. I had been awake since 5am on this lovely Saturday morning. I was not in the mood to walk 3 dogs in the suffocating heat. So I let them out the window... duh. It turned into quite the escapade. Oscar thought it was the neatest thing ever. He jumped in and out of the window about 6 times. Just back and forth. Then he got his tennis ball from the yard, came back, and dropped it inside the window for me to throw. When I finally got him back in, every time I tried to shut the window, he tried to jump back out. Ridiculous dog. Polo just went out the window as if he does that everyday. The idea scared the crap out of Grayce at first. She wouldn't go through it. I had to push her out. She's a big dog, by the way. She just turned and looked at me from outside as if I'd lost my mind. The funniest thing was about an hour later, Grayce went over to the window and pawed at it (instead of the back door). Haha.. smart dog. (By the way, I went out the window too. My flower needed watering!)

Ok, so lastly, I have this fascination with these cows. [Stop laughing.] Every day on my way to and from UMC, I pass these cows. There are tons of them, and there are lots of little baby cows. Um, calves, I guess... Anyway, during the summer, they all stand in the pond. Just stand there. I like to watch them. I don't know why. It's not like I've never seen cows before. So for a while I've wanted to take pictures of them. They're in this field with a silo-looking thing, a pond, and an old white farmhouse in the background. I mean it just looks like it should be photographed. So the other day, I decided to take a picture. I didn't even get the farmhouse. There was too much traffic on the road, so I'll have to get some better ones later. I know right now you're thinking that I've lost my mind. Who cares about cows on the side of the highway? Maybe I should start sleeping more. Yes, definitely should get more sleep...

Ok... speaking of sleep... Buenas noches, amigas.