Reaching for the Toilet

Today was one of those days where I’m staring at the bottle of Crown on my coffee table as an inspiration to get through this week. I knew this would come, at some point. An older student pointed out in medical school that her greatest fear was the day she would snap at a patient- and hoped to avoid this by remembering to be grateful. But is is hard to be grateful when you start adding up the hours, and the pounds, and the dollars, that you are sacrificing and someone has the nerve to be ungrateful that your life-saving intervention wasn’t good enough for them. I managed to avoid the snapping, but probably only my remembering said inspiration for getting me through this week. Still, tonight turned out not to be about ranting. but about a funny story that resulted from all the venting. The ranting therefore, which I would normally expound upon- I present in bullet point fashion for your reading ease.

Things that make me swing to the Right these days

1) being furreal broke and debating on turning republican because the next fool who tries to holler at me when my taxes are paying for the clothes/home/car he can’t afford may be going down

2) my skin looking like attack of the droids ( or whatever, I don’t really remember the names of the Star Wars movies)

3) being tired all the damn time

4) saying F-it to all of this ecetera still hanging around on my waistline and

5) having no time/inspiration to write

Rant over, my mother then has the nerve to ask me

“So have you been drinking enough water?”- I think this is in reference to my comment about my skin needing to take the Retin-A plunge but I don’t quite remember as a red haze obscured my vision and my rant went on…as follows

” Do you know how hard it is to drink water in the hospital?” I started, ” There are like- no bathrooms for doctors in the hospital. They have ones on each station for nurses but you have to first find them and then awkwardly use the bathroom because everyone looks at you funny when you try and use the restroom like we are supposedly too clean to ever have to pee. And then you can’t like, go into a patient’s room and excuse yourself from teaching rounds for a minute to use theirs because that’s just not professional. And so when you finally break down and go pee after having downed the entire county’s supply of coffee and forced some water in there so you won’t be the worst doctor/hypocrite ever you find yourself running down to the resident lounge to pee which is so far away from all the work you have to do. And if there is a resident alive who hasn’t answered their pager/ascom/phone to a nurse/patient/attending- while trying to balance the phone on their ear and pee and strategically use the mute button with their chin I am calling them a liar. Right now. Yes I said it. So to avoid all of that, and/or the use of Depends- I just drink less water.”

My mother responded

“Well they have moved my office to an old elementary school. And my office is where the classrooms used to be but they have not retrofitted the bathrooms.” At this point she paused for effect. Wait. Let the implications of that sink in women. “So there are still these bathroom stalls made for little girls despite the fact that now only big girls work there. And so you have to be really careful to aim properly and make sure you squat down deep enough despite your advancing years otherwise you will end up not only urinating on your clothes, but falling. And then you’re on the bathroom floor in an elementary school after having urinated on yourself and that’s just embarrassing.”

…and because I’m all sensitive and PC and can realize she is empathizing with my story like that, at this point I’m howling with laughter. She continued.

“Well I’m glad I could provide you with some amusement but it’s really not funny. You know I’m trying to do all of this with 1 and a half knees so I have to limp and twitch my way down the stairs before kicking my bad leg out and trying to balance on the one good one left. It’s really all about the timing. And I still drink my water. So remember that when you minimize my disability as not a real chronic illness, remember that when you justify not having to drink enough water. And remember that when you need some creative inspiration to write tonight.” My mother is a habitual line stepper…Gotta love it. Dad gave me the title for the post.

like I said- it’s all about remembering to be grateful.

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