Saturday, June 28, 2003.
Now Playing:
Soul Calibur
(in preparation for Soul Calibur2),
and DOA2 Hardcore (in preparation for DOA2 on Xbox Live).
Apologies
to Anyone: I haven't emailed back. This has not been
a good month so far.
THESE SHOES ARE MADE FOR WORKIN'
At the men's dress shoe store. Looking for new work shoes for the hospital.
SHOE SALESMAN: "May I help you?"
ME: "Yeah. I'm looking for a black dress shoe that doesn't have laces and doesn't make any noise."
SALESMAN: "Ohh … kay." (Leaves.)
ME (to Amy and Sun Su): "Did you see the look he just gave me? Is he getting a commission on dirty looks?"
I just like shoes that are quick to slip on, and don't make me sound like a Clydesdale horse when I am walking in the halls or skipping down stairs. Good thing I didn't ask if he had urine-proofing polish too.
HAZARDS
I screeched to a halt around the corner just as one of those zamboni-sized X-ray machines rolled by. Overheard:
TECH 1: "Watch out. You almost hit a doctor."
TECH 2: "That's okay. They have insurance."
ADVICE
Patient room.
ME: "Hi Mr. Tia. Well, we know why you are having these black out episodes. Your entire left neck vessel (carotid) is occluded with clot. They are breaking off and going to your brain."
MR.TIA: "You mean this one? (Starts massaging his left carotid.)"
ME: (Lunging at Mr. Tia's hand.)"DON'T DO THAT. Yeah, that one. We're getting surgery to see you as soon as possible."
MR.TIA: "After smoking for forty years, I guess it's time to pay the piper."
ME: "We don't want you to pay him just yet. We'll get you to surgery as soon as we can."
MR.TIA: "Whatever you think is best, doc."
ME: "In the meantime, don't move your neck."
WOMEN LIE
Discharge day for Ms. Biggs.
ME: "The guys outside (with the tarp) need to know how much you weigh."
MS. BIGGS: "I'm five-fifty (pounds)."
I knew that was a lie. My patient two floors down weighed five-hundred fifty pounds and Ms. Biggs could have swallowed her.
ME: "The bed scale says 817 pounds." (Of course these beds are only accurate up to 800 pounds.)
MS. BIGGS: "That's just wrong. I know I am only 550."
Only.
She ended up being eight-hundred nineteen pounds. My heaviest patient ever. I think.
The fire department brought her in a week ago. And the fire department carried her out. On a tarp that they called "Shamu." Just not to her face. Sorry, but that's what they really call it.
THE USUAL
"I can't really say, everyone is different - "
"I know, but could you give me some sort of idea, doctor?"
"Six to twelve months. But … that may be optimistic."
"Oh … well…. Thank you," she smiled and patted my hand.
Everyone is different, sure. But it seems like I have to give that answer to someone every week.
A LITTLE HARMONY
Last week one of the older ladies at my Corean church paged me, telling me that her mother-in-law was in the hospital.
"Moksahnim! Hi!" I said to my church pastor (the moksahnim) as I walked into the patient's room.
"Hi Scott," the pastor laughed in surprise, "You work on this floor?"
"Yeah, I work on every floor. Mrs. Pang told me her mother was here, so I said I'd stop by."
I explained to the daughter what I knew of her bedridden and demented mother-in-law and what their doctor had tried explaining to them. Her declining prognosis and the fact that we could make her better this time but her time was in short supply. Pneumonia or urinary infection or stroke or blood clot, et cetera. How does Death take thee? Let me count the ways.
Maybe I am just used to the older Coreans' accents, but I am usually able to help clear things up for them. I casually glance at charts and boards for Corean names to see if I can help. If there is some language difficulty, I try to help or call Amy to translate. I'm not good enough to be a real translator yet, but it is still my goal and purpose.
Even with what little I know, the little old Corean ladies seem delighted when I just say "Annyounghasayo harmoni!" (Hello, grandmother!)
Many times the grannies will stroke my hand and chuckle or reach out like I'm some long lost grandson. With their cloudy cataracts and my dark hair, who can blame them for their mistake? Their middle-aged sons and daughters are usually surprised, then pleased, then grateful after I stop by. They tell me they feel a sense of relief and comfort when I say I am half-Corean and talk with them. They ask about my parents, my wife, my boy. The grannies chuckle whenever little babies are mentioned.
"This is very funny," the pastor said after things lightened up a bit, "We're reversed here."
The Pastor was right. Welcome to my church.
No promises of the afterlife or salvation from me. Just not so great expectations of what you are in store for in this one and what we can do about it, or not. The Pastor uses the Word of God from the Bible to ease one's suffering. I use the most statistically proven studies in the medical literature to lessen illness.
Our languages may not be so different.
When the staff asks if I'm the patient's doctor, I say "No, they're a family friend." It's not a lie.
In my church, every Corean granny is my granny.
SIGN OUT
THE KOMMANDANT: "Hi Scott. For this weekend, Dr. X will be seeing Dr. A's patients, Dr. Y will be seeing Dr. B's patients, and Dr. Z will be seeing Dr. C's. So you'll be seeing your own and any new ones that come in. Z can probably see a couple. If you get more than ten or twelve new ones, give me a call and we'll see what we can do."
ME: "Alright. Thanks."
Even with the extra support, the weekends just get more and more hellish around here.
Looks like I won't be making it to Corean church this weekend.
I should start praying anyways.
(Saturday Night, 10:33 P.M. - Today was very bad at work. Tomorrow will be as well.)
_________________________________________________
MEDEA SIN HOT MODEL
Today's HOT MODEL is
There are so many stunning pictures of Violaine, it was sweet misery choosing just two. She knows more about Corean and Asian pop music in general than probably anyone should. Corean pride? I wouldn't even understand half of the jokes she can say in Corean. Come to think of it - I don't even have a Corean flag in my room. (I don't have Corean boyfriends either but that's a little extreme for me.)
The orange-lipsticky Rice Empress is quite the celebrity. If you don't check out her journal, galleries, music page, and even her livejournal (more for the boy-crayjees) you will only be hurting yourself. I cannot stress this enough. Trust. Me.
Ah yes, for once it is good to be an Asian male. I offer the cure for the under-appreciated lonely invisible Asian mens out there and those that share her appreciation.
She's sweet like children's cherry-flavored cough syrup.
And intoxicating like rice wine too. Now that's good medicine.
(Click here to become a MEDEA SIN HOT MODEL. It's free and clothing is optional, obviously.)
