Fresh Blade

Yes, dear Readers, it’s 11.03pm and I am blogging packing again, this time for a short Busman’s holiday. Fortunately, I will not be the only doctor, as I’m not very good any more at complicated things like hearts and breathing. Ingrowing toenails, I’m your girl. Or something like that. I checked the weather forecast, and it’s for too-hot and almost incessant rain. Rather sultry weather, as my aunt used to say. I am packing a raincoat and two large bags of bandages and sticking plasters. I am in charge of the sticking plasters.

Had a lovely dinner tonight with the sister and her young man, enlivened when I flicked some rice at my sister, but missed. It hit the waiter, which was fortunate on one level, as otherwise it’d have landed in a gentleman’s dinner. I did feel utterly dreadful about hitting the waiter, but he didn’t notice and I left a large and guilty tip.

Right, really must pack. Be good. I’ll say a prayer for you all.

Oh dear, what a cranky day. First of all, the repercussions continue from that facking email mis-send. Last night, the rota organiser emailed sounding not-too-positive about my leave request. Of course, I know that part of the reason is that my colleague, Z, has been beotching about me. What Z should have remembered is that bitching about Bird FB in front of Bird A has the annoying sequela of bird A phoning bird FB to tell her. Isn’t he a twit? So when Z and I each had a theatre list this afternoon, would you be surprised to hear that we almost came to blows over who would do which case? I really felt like slapping him upside his head. At one point, we were arguing in that cold-calm-vicious way, in the middle of theatre, ignoring the attentive audience of nurses (4), anaesthetists (2) and hangers-on (1). I realised I had my hands on my hips in the manner of a particularly grumpy Old Hag, whilst I was saying, “Yes, well, I am going to do this case, because I have already been involved, and I wasn’t exactly sitting on my arse all morning, you know.” Then, all of a sudden, after two cases, theatre was invaded by some other surgical types. Why? Because the nurse in charge had seen fit to arrange for the end of their too-long list to be done instead of one of my cases. I wasn’t what you’d call pleased.

Anyway. Enough of this. In other news, I will be arranging my sex change this weekend. Today I got two (two!) letters addressed to Mr Blade. One was from another Ladydoctor, so that just made it worse. I’ve also appeared on the rota twice in the last two months as, you’ve guessed it, Mr Blade. I’ve worked here for five years, dammit! I pee sitting down! I have ladybumps! I AM WOMAN! HEAR ME ROAR!

And before you start, I am not bloody hormonal; it was just one of those days. I’d laddered my nylons before my morning coffee, and I should have said: hang convention! and slapped someone. I might have lost my job, yeah, whatever, but you know what? It’d have been worth it.

I have a number of email accounts, but currently am mostly in love with my gmail. For those who aren’t, they have a little sponsored link at the top, depending (roughly) on the subject matter. Imagine my delight when an email requesting would I “take a wee look at such-and-such” brought the following:

Female Urinals Youreableshop.co.uk/female_urinal - Huge range of female urinals at low price. Trade, Public & NHS

Yes, it was a quiet day as far as blog fodder. But don’t say I don’t provide a public service.

…and I’ve just had a thought, which caused me to check the rota. Ha bumhug and all that, amn’t I on call tomorrow! So I really must cut the blogging and get to bed. I came home last Monday, and the case is still lying, half full (or is it half empty?) on the landing. But I don’t care, because I had a lovely weekend.

I was on call on Friday night, and got to bed at 3.30am on Saturday. You may not be surprised to hear that I as not the brightest star on the planet when I collected Batman at the airport at 8.30am (he sometimes has to use conventional transport, just to keep his cover intact). A large breakfast, followed by a trip to see the travel agent, was a rather fine cure. (Honeymoon planning, which is clearly the only bit of this three-ring circus that I am going to enjoy organising.) Later, we had a jolly dinner with PJ and his especially lovely girl, and that’s pretty much it. Walk, more eating, bit of the Grand Prix (isn’t it fun when it rains!) and then back to the airport tonight. Very relaxing. I like Batman. This whole getting married thing has been the best idea we’ve ever had.

Poor Batman’s been horribly delayed and isn’t going to get home until all hours, but me personally? I’m for my boudoir toot sweet. Bun swar. (Exxy has to relearn her French and Spanish this year, so I think we should all do our best to be of assistance.)

I did something tonight that I have never done before. I fell foul of the “reply to all” gaff. Our rota organiser tends to send at least two copies of the call schedule, sometimes three (depending on how many mistakes are in the earlier ones), and I just got the July rota (Version 2.0) tonight. Aha! I thought. Time to approach the thorny question of: may I have all the Christmas and New Year holidays off, thus shafting all my dear colleagues over the festive season? So I sent a carefully-worded, and, fortunately, edited and re-edited, email. Just after hitting “send”, I realised that some unknown Gmail effect had sent it to everyone in the Department. I mean, it was fine, it just wasn’t what you’d necessarily send to everybody; also, it looks wile stupid to do something like that. So far, I’ve had one text message and one email, both quietly hooting at my idiocy. It is all because I was at a meeting last night, at which I assumed the rôle of Official Geek.

In other news: there isn’t any. Well, I am still not unpacked, still tired and on call tomorrow. However, on the positive side, I haven’t seen Batman for almost six weeks, but he’ll be over on Saturday (just until Sunday). Toodle pip.

Overnight flights, IMHO, are a hallmark of a barbarian society. I hate them. I trailed out of bed yesterday morning at 6.30am, for an 8.55am flight to Newark. Not too bad. I then had a little over ten hours in which to kick my heels. Plan A: hang around the airport and see how long it took to acheive Terminal Boredom (Gettit? Clever, no?) was replaced the night before with Plan B: New York New York. I was there once before, almost ten years ago, and absolutely hated it. Not this time. In quick succession, I:
1. Had lunch in an excellent Irish pub, on the instructions of Mammy. (”Go to an Irish pub and you will find someone to talk to!”) So I went to Tír na nÓg, and it was great.
2. On the instructions of the very nice waitress, I went and took some photos of the Empire State Building.
3. Thunder, lightning and torrential rain forced me into Macy’s. Alas.

4. Bopped to the tunes and enjoyed the eye candy at the Gay Pride parade. Why are all the handsome ones (apart from Batman)..?

5. Lit a candle in St Patrick’s most fabulous Cathedral.

6. Sloshed into Central Park in yet more rain.

7. Taxi back through Times Square to Penn Station, and train back to Newark.

Tired? I was. It was outstandingly fun. The night flight to Astro City was fine, but I don’t travel well and feel like yakking on the floor when I get off. In fact, sometimes I do. (Not on the floor.) Home now, tea’d and toasted and going to bed right now.

Here, don’t be getting too excited, now, but I think I’ve finally worked out how to get photos onto this here blog. For those who remember the previous intarnation, I bet you wish I hadn’t.

For your general edification, one iceberg:

A man was telling me that his Brorn-Law makes a cocktail, called 12-12,000. Twelve-year-old whisk(e)y, 12,000-year-old ice - ice washes in to the shore as the icebergs disperse, and is collected for later use. Even braver (?) persons go out to the icebergs and break off chunks.

Photo numero deux: one whale. It did the fancy thing and lifted its tail out of the water, just at the precise moment when my camera decided it had had enough of taking 47,000 photos of the same thing, whilst enveloped in a dank, salty mist. So no photos of the tail. Bah. But it is puffing out of its blowhole, and you won’t read that in many Family Blogs.

And if that wasn’t enough, I thought you might like a Cheap Thrill. Here it is. One freshly-trussed Blade, wrapped up in four layers of clothes and a leaky survival suit. Foxy, no? (Like the Ninja mask? You’d never know it was me?) Please note: One is never dressed without one’s handbag, even when preparing for a trip on the High Seas. Keira Pirate Knightley woman could learn a lot from me.

Dear All Three of You,

Currently on a jolly, but have to go to work-related boringness tomorrow. Nevertheless, am having a most superior time, and today I saw a 70-foot, 80-tonne sperm whale, from a distance of approximately six feet; also a large iceberg. Both were most impressive, despite the realisation that I was on a boat tour in the hands of a man who could reasonably be described as extremely eccentric, and might be seen, in a certain light, as a WIndow Licker. Fear not! I am back safe, although my survival suit leaked and I got rather a wet backside. I am doing some real hard-core adventuring, me. And it’s all for your entertainment.

However, I have had no mobile phone reception all day, can you imagine? This is why you will find me, at 11.44pm, in a very salubrious inn, bashing away on a computer with dial-up (!) Hindernet, and apparently the only person awake. They go to bed monstrously early in these places. In fact, there is nothing else for it. I shall have to retire with a good book. I have just begun reading Guns, Germs, and Steel; it’s fascinating, probably because it’s the first book I’ve read that isn’t waterproof and chewable.

Right then. Bonsoir and all that.

I’m wile tired. Lately, there hasn’t been time to think/speak/scratch self. Desprit altogether. The trip Abroad was exceptionally enjoyable, including a tornado during a heavy session of lectures, and then a too-short trip to Washington, DC. Maybe mine hostesses thought it was long enough, though?

Since then, I have been mostly working. This includes a weekend on call (8am Sat - 8am Mon) and then a full day at work today. Worked steadily but not frantically all weekend, and gave two different A&E (Emerg) types bollockings today. I usually don’t, but when tired to the point of hyperactivity and really losing patience with rank stupidity (why would you phone someone to ask them to take your patient, before you have properly examined the patient?), it’s amazing how snottery I can be. I will probably be shot at dawn for it tomorrow, but I don’t care.

Off again on Saturday, to the End of the World. Really.

Off on hols to conference tomorrow, Dear Readers. Bag almost packed, presentation in a state of some readiness, and hair in desprit need of washing. Am conferencing and then going visiting in one of the finest cities in the world (no matter what you might think of one of the inhabitants). It’s only a little tiny visit, but I am looking forward to it immensely. I’ll also be meeting all my friends from Elsewhere at the conference, and expect to have a most jolly time. We’ve just had our paper published, so some celebrating is in order.

There may be posting. Be good, y’all.