8:06 AM
mood: saturnine
last night's sleep rating: D
rounds: over
where's my staff? Breakfast.
Hopefully they'll be down there for a while. I put in an order for a dry bagel just to get them off my case. I was hungry this morning and picked up a breakfast sandwich on the way in. It was only $2.98 with a coffee and a hashbrown, but I'm still paying for it. Note to self, avoid that drive-thru in the future. Or at least that sandwich.
And find out who's got samples of Zantac or something like that. I have to admit that there are drawbacks to running such an esoteric department, and one of them is that the drug reps only come peddling insanely expensive bioengineered drugs for really sick people. Nothing in the way of samples of drugs for middle-aged men who can't handle their grease like they used to. I don't want to sneak down to the clinic because I'll have to talk to Cuddy and get into some conversation about lab coats, and I don't want to ask Wilson because he'll start asking questions and next thing I know he'll be working me up for a hiatal hernia, and I just don't feel like messing with barium today. Maybe if I go through the pen drawer....
I swear to God I'm going to have to get one of those little computer applications that show you the phase of the moon.
But the moon's not full yet, it's just on its first quarter, and already everyone's acting all weird. So either it's NOT the moon, or they're all going to get weirder.
Like Cameron! Reading self-help books -- on management! Are we going to be talking about disappearing cheese next, Allison? I don't know what was more disappointing -- her reading those stupid books and applying the lessons so obviously, or the way those two boys fell for it hook, line, and sinker. It just pains me to see doctors -- doctors, of all people -- thinking they have to be smarmy and manipulative. That's fine for the business world. Let them fart around with their effectiveness seminars and gimmicks. If they screw up, big deal -- it's only money. But as that great healer Dr Lisa Cuddy once said, "We're doctors. If we screw up, people die!" Or at least face lifetimes of pain and disability.
I tap my fingers against my coffee mug. Suddenly I find myself intensely missing Dr Nussbaum. He was the medical director of the whole hospital when I got here, an administrator I could respect. He understood what it was to be a doctor -- he was a good doctor -- and he understood that a teaching hospital was for treating patients and for teaching doctors and nurses how to treat patients. That's what drove his decisions. I had so much respect for him.
That, Cameron, was what I was trying to tell you. You asked the wrong question. It doesn't matter if I like you or not. Like is... it's subjective, it's ephemeral. I like cherry lollipops. But respect... that's objective, that's going to last, that's what you really want. I respect people like Dr Nussbaum, like Cuddy, like Wilson. If Cuddy just liked me, I would have been out on my ass years ago. But I'm still here, and it's because she respects me.
And that's my job, Cameron, that's why I'm here: to help you become a doctor that people respect.
last night's sleep rating: D
rounds: over
where's my staff? Breakfast.
Hopefully they'll be down there for a while. I put in an order for a dry bagel just to get them off my case. I was hungry this morning and picked up a breakfast sandwich on the way in. It was only $2.98 with a coffee and a hashbrown, but I'm still paying for it. Note to self, avoid that drive-thru in the future. Or at least that sandwich.
And find out who's got samples of Zantac or something like that. I have to admit that there are drawbacks to running such an esoteric department, and one of them is that the drug reps only come peddling insanely expensive bioengineered drugs for really sick people. Nothing in the way of samples of drugs for middle-aged men who can't handle their grease like they used to. I don't want to sneak down to the clinic because I'll have to talk to Cuddy and get into some conversation about lab coats, and I don't want to ask Wilson because he'll start asking questions and next thing I know he'll be working me up for a hiatal hernia, and I just don't feel like messing with barium today. Maybe if I go through the pen drawer....
I swear to God I'm going to have to get one of those little computer applications that show you the phase of the moon.
But the moon's not full yet, it's just on its first quarter, and already everyone's acting all weird. So either it's NOT the moon, or they're all going to get weirder.
Like Cameron! Reading self-help books -- on management! Are we going to be talking about disappearing cheese next, Allison? I don't know what was more disappointing -- her reading those stupid books and applying the lessons so obviously, or the way those two boys fell for it hook, line, and sinker. It just pains me to see doctors -- doctors, of all people -- thinking they have to be smarmy and manipulative. That's fine for the business world. Let them fart around with their effectiveness seminars and gimmicks. If they screw up, big deal -- it's only money. But as that great healer Dr Lisa Cuddy once said, "We're doctors. If we screw up, people die!" Or at least face lifetimes of pain and disability.
I tap my fingers against my coffee mug. Suddenly I find myself intensely missing Dr Nussbaum. He was the medical director of the whole hospital when I got here, an administrator I could respect. He understood what it was to be a doctor -- he was a good doctor -- and he understood that a teaching hospital was for treating patients and for teaching doctors and nurses how to treat patients. That's what drove his decisions. I had so much respect for him.
That, Cameron, was what I was trying to tell you. You asked the wrong question. It doesn't matter if I like you or not. Like is... it's subjective, it's ephemeral. I like cherry lollipops. But respect... that's objective, that's going to last, that's what you really want. I respect people like Dr Nussbaum, like Cuddy, like Wilson. If Cuddy just liked me, I would have been out on my ass years ago. But I'm still here, and it's because she respects me.
And that's my job, Cameron, that's why I'm here: to help you become a doctor that people respect.
2 Comments:
Noo-ice.
Can't send a duck to the store for a little Mylanta? Odds are Foreman's got some with him--he needs *something* to combat all the acid he has to deal with.
Oh wait, I forgot, they're all bonkers right now. (My bet: Volger's spiked the water supply.) And there's the whole red flag business--'no-sir-we're-not-looking-not-us'. But if Foreman's bonkers, wouldn't that mean he'd give up the goods without a fuss? ...or you could wait a bit and it'll go away. ;P
But for future reference--probably a redundant point, but I'm making it anyway--breakfast sandwich thingies? Always a bad idea. IMHO.
Now I must take some advice that a little birdy told me about less reading and more TV.
Ta.
Hey, Doc. :-) Sorry I've been remiss in my correspondence, this time... My brain has been full of 'fog' from some health bobbles and a cold/flu combo. (Don't worry--I'll keep my distance, unlike that kid, Ricky. LOL Nice work on his Dad, BTW. :-) ) So, if my higher brain functions/ typing/ spelling's a bit wobbly (or, more so than usual LOL), mea culpa.
"Saturnine." Now, like hypogonadism, there's a word I just don't hear often enough. LOL ;-)
Oh, Doc. Tell me you didn't succumb to the Siren's lure of the 'Golden Arches.' If you want to 'live dangerously,' take up skydiving... But, don't go for the 'breakfast combo.' LOL
I hope Vicodin works on world class *headaches,* and invest in a few bottles of Pepto-Bismol, or the like... Something tells me you'll need both, now that Darth Vogler, Lord of the Sick, is on the scene... I know you're dismissing Obi-Wilson-Kenobi's qualms, right now, but this Dude is from the Dark Side... (You may need your 'Ba Ba's/security blankets for more than just *story time,* in coming days... ...and you've already told Vogler who some of your 'safety nets' are...)
Well, if the boys had read the same 'stupid books' that you and *Allison* obviously have, they wouldn't have been duped, so easily... Obviously, Ducklings are going to pick things up from the resident Master/ Sensei/ Maestro (and as you said, Doc, you're "da man" ;-) )... Only, Cameron, young Grasshopper that she is, isn't ready to snatch any pebbles from your hand. I have to LOL about you, of all people, suggesting "less books," given how you always have them stacked around your office and residence... And, the way you reference literature, so often, I know you're not just using them as paperweights. LOL But, I know what you're saying... You want your Ducklings to stay off the trendy/useless false trails of the Self-Help/'Yay For Me' Personal Empowerment bandwagon... Sometimes, we start 'creating a monster' without even realizing it... LOL And, don't tell me you don't enjoy pushing Foreman's buttons, for instance... I've seen that look/grin on your face. ;-) But, it's true, your motives towards the Ducklings are educational ones and benevolent in scope. Cam's a different kind of Duck than you are, in some ways (although you're very close, under the skin, down at the level where your unprotected hearts beat)... she has different needs, motivations and weaknesses. I hope Cameron learns respect, and I hope you open up your eyes about a few things, too, Doc. But, everything happens in the fullness of time, hey? As Cam demonstrated, rushed/forced lessons are easy to botch... ;-)
Hang on, hang in... Something tells me the rollercoaster is about to start up, again... ;-)
Sanlin
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