Toad. Turd. Troll. Trogolodyte. Twit.

Just some private pet names for surgeons, starting with the letter "t". What else are you gonna do at 2 am, grafting coronaries with an asshole?

Shoe's back. Work sucks even more. I feel a change is in order. Or out of order. I need a change. Soon.

Arrgh. Life's been on the stressful side lately.

Gotta make plans for the summer when The Boy is out of school and Flip goes to Washington for her annual respite (huh, where's mine and Wood's?). Do we ask a stranger into our lives again, or shuffle our work schedules around again in order to cover? It never gets easy. I don't suppose it ever will.

The Boy is still taking the stool softening laxative polyethelene glycol, which makes him have a smeary butt, so we've been putting him in paper underpants (outgrew the overnight diaper/pants, into the real Depends brand). If we don't watch him carefully, he'll leave them wadded inside his jeans and then the dog gets them and eats them. Ew. Yeah, and who gets to clean that up?

We've just started increasing his dose of Abilify, since his stims are increasing and he's becoming sensitive again to the sound of blinkers in the car and the ever-present airplanes and he's banging on his head more. So far he seems to be doing okay at school, only one notice sent home lately.

Flip had a rough time with school last semester. I was hoping my procrastinating tendency would skip over her generation but, no, she's as bad as the rest of us and so now we get to be homework nazis and general pains in her ass. She's plenty bright, just not self-driven.

Signed up for a microbiology class, a pre-req for the nursing degree. Yikes. My turn to be self-driven. And I like biology. My photographic memory ran out of film sometime ago, so now I gotta really work at getting things to go in and come out on demand.

Working at the hospital of last resort really SUCKED last week. Grumpy docs taking their frustration out on me and other staff, and I mean really inappropriately (throwing instruments etc.). I know I'm not a perfect scrub, hell I'm really barely competent, but there's things I know and I know that surgeons can be a surly lot, capricious, mean, passive-aggressive and half the time it has no connection to your skills as a scrub, you just happen to be in the same space with them. I've seen mediocre surgeons do poor surgery because they're pissed off because of some scheduling conflict at another hospital, or because the patient they operated on previously that day is coding in the recovery room and he's stuck scrubbed in.

Today is my Monday (I work 3 twelves, 11a to 11p Wed, Thurs, Fri), and I went to put on my two-week old size 37 navy blue mediplog shoes, and I can find only one. Just one. FNA. At least the jerk coulda taken both shoes.

So I wrote a note on one of our notice boards:

Look out for a one-legged thief wearing a size 37 navy blue mediplog shoe...TeeJay would like a word...