So I went to Dr. S's wake this weekend, and then the funeral today.
I know it's supposed to be a celebration of life and all, and people told really nice, funny stories- but it's still just so sad. And I am SUCH a crybaby. The second the organ started and they started wheeling* the coffin down the aisle I was weeping. And I barely even KNEW the guy. Then amazing grace got me choked up. Then I was ok for a while, til the family gave eulogies... And I figured I'd be ok as long as no one speaking started crying. Fortunately his wife/kids didn't talk. It made me think that there is NO WAY I will be able to speak at either of my parents' funerals. In fact if I could have my way I wouldn't even go. I am not going to deal well with my dad dying.

• aren't you supposed to carry the coffin?

But anyway, so I was pretty good (relatively speaking), only cried a little, and was pretty much dried up til the end. Until the brought the casket back out, now covered with a flag, and the pall bearers were crying, and I saw his widow, with her sons holding her hands and supporting her... then I was crying all over again. Fortunately another girl from work was sitting behind me and crying too, so I wasn't the only big baby there.

Man I hate funerals.

But I must say, and I mean no disrespect, but- it was the most rockin' funeral I've ever been to. I kept expecting a gospel chorus to pop out out of the wings. It was crazy! I'm not very good at church, and I'm not catholic. So all the kneeling and crossing yourself is foreign to me. But I'm used to services with a big organ, and that's the only instrument. Well I think this church maybe didn't have an organ (or something) b/c it seemed like there were piping in synthesizer music. Seriously. Like when getting ready for a hymn, all of the sudden a BEAT came blasting through... I finally asked "I know I'm not catholic, but is this typical?" And I was assured it wasn't. Don't get me wrong, it was still nice and touching and sad... but at times I almost found myself laughing b/c I felt like I was in a broadway musical. A little surreal.

Then afterwards M wanted to make it an "Irish Funeral" (even though we were all on call) so we went to her apt and she cooked us French toast, which was delish.

Now I'm home, and a little spent, and I think I could use a drink.

-J

P.s. Happy almost mardi gras peeps!

(While (e:imk2) is galavanting around the globe, I am taking the liberty to deinspire myself.)

ALEX: Even though you think you have a good command of the English language, you must know that using 20 obtuse redundant words to say what can easily be said in 10 simple ones does not make you sound smart.

Long is one thing, but overly wordy for no reason but to try to impress, impresses no one but fools.

Remember ALEX, brevity is the soul of wit.

So my team decided to go out to lunch, when I was the only one busy. ugh. So then they decided to get Salsarita's takeout instead. I was hoping I'd get a bite or two before my case started. But, no. They didn't get back in time. So I went into the OR, and then half an hour or so later my phone buzzed at me. I assumed it was them saying lunch was (finally) there. So a few hours go by, and the case is done, so I get to check my phone- well I was quite wrong. No message about lunch. Just one that said simply 'S died.'

Dr. S was the Chief of Trauma/Surgery. Definitely an old school, no-nonsense, gruff kind of guy. And though I was scared to death of him at times, there was also something about him that was super-cool.

This is the one year of residency that I don't go to his hospital, so I haven't been there in a while. I knew he was getting old, and didn't have the greatest heart. I'd heard rumors that he's retiring this year. Then recently I heard he was sick and in the ICU, but I just assumed he'd get better.

I guess not. :(

And I can't help but think how weird it must be to be on the other side of things- at 'your' hospital, no less. And not just being a patient. But being a dying patient, when all the doctors surrounding you know and love you and are just watching as every last-ditch effort they make- fails.

Poor Dr. S.
We'll miss you.

My dad just sent this to me. Pretty cool. Especially since I still imagine "outer space" as just big and black with little white dots for stars/planets.

Hubble telescope's top ten greatest space photographs


The Sombrero Galaxy - 28 million light years from Earth - was voted best picture taken by the Hubble telescope. The dimensions of the galaxy, officially called M104, are as spectacular as its appearance. It has 800 billion suns and is 50,000 light years across.


The Ant Nebula, a cloud of dust and gas whose technical name is Mz3, resembles an ant when observed using ground-based telescopes. The nebula lies within our galaxy between 3,000 and 6,000 light years from Earth.


In third place is Nebula NGC 2392, called Eskimo because it looks like a face surrounded by a furry hood. The hood is, in fact, a ring of comet-shaped objects flying away from a dying star. Eskimo is 5,000 light years from Earth.


At four is the Cat's Eye Nebula, which looks like the eye of disembodied sorcerer Sauron from Lord of the Rin


The Hourglass Nebula, 8,000 light years away, has a pinched-in-the-middle look because the winds that shape it are weaker at the centre.


In sixth place is the Cone Nebula. The part pictured here is 2.5 light years in length (the equivalent of 23 million return trips to the Moon).


The Perfect Storm, a small region in the Swan Nebula, 5,500 light years away, described as 'a bubbly ocean of hydrogen and small amounts of oxygen, sulphur and other elements'.


Starry Night, so named because it reminded astronomers of the Van Gogh painting. It is a halo of light around a star in the Milky Way.


The glowering eyes from 114 million light years away are the swirling cores of two merging galaxies called NGC 2207 and IC 2163 in the distant Canis Major constellation.


The Trifid Nebula. A 'stellar nursery', 9,000 light years from here, it is where new stars are being born.

Wow... no Valentine's Day posts yet? I'm surprised. I actually had the best VD I've had in recent memory, which is a very welcome surprise.

So even though I'm totally single and everything, I still thought maybe I'd get some sort of valentine's messages from people. Like I thought at least my mom would call or something... But no. Oh well. But then I came home and my mom had sent me a bunch of candy, which was really cute. People from work were talking about going out, but I was on call, so I wasn't very aggressive about making plans. But then a boy (that i may have made out with in the past...) called to invite me out with a group of people. So I figured that was better than staying home alone, even if I couldn't drink. And, I knew there was at least potential for a little hanky panky.

So we went to this new place- Sample. It's on Allen and College, right across from Hardware (used to be allen st. music)- and I love it! I don't know if it will do well since it's kind of gimmicky, but for now I love it. It's a tiny little place but kind of swanky. And they serve tiny portions of food. Like seriously bite size. Things like beef on weck, fish and chip (not chipS), surf and turf- all in teeny tiny miniature one-bite-sizes. (the name is Sample, after all). They're like $2 each. And addictive. Easy to spend a lot of money fast. But in any case, it's a neat place and it was tasty and fun. Then we went to Toro for dessert. And then it was midnight, and everyone had to work in the morning, and were starting to talk about going home. So we were just about getting to that "do you want to come back to my place" moment of the night- when my &^%&^ pager went off. Usually when I'm paged I can handle it over the phone. But this time I actually had to go in. Ugh, had to go home and change, but still went the hospital and makeup and jewelry and was cranky, and was there til 3am. I would have much rather been making out, but oh well.

I'm really sick of this stupid snow, and the terrible job they do plowing the streets. My car handles decently in the snow, but it's just so low to the ground that whenever there are deep drifts I get stuck. And I am stubborn and refuse to shovel the end of my driveway in the morning, and plan to just slam right through it. Usually works, but when it doesn't- ugh. I just noticed that I think there is actually visible wear on my front tires from spinning my wheels and rocking back and forth to get unstuck these last few days.

And today I came home- and much to my amazement, they had plowed my street! For the first time ever in the 3 years I've lived here. But of course that meant a big mountain in the end of the driveway. As usual I was lazy and stubborn and tried to just jam through it, and got stuck. And the best part- the giant fucking plow truck (that had CAUSED this mess) was coming down the road, but then couldn't pass, since I was stuck and blocking the road. And what did he do- NOTHING. Just sat there, in his warm truck, and watched as I was trying to shovel snow out from under the wheels, push the car myself, etc. Eventually some kind neighbors came and helped, and the plow finally got sick of waiting and just flew by us- leaving more mountains of snow in his wake. Jackass.
But yay for nice neighbors. After I was unstuck I went to try to help the guy that had helped me shovel his driveway, and he wouldn't let me.

Here are some lousy pix from my phone.


My backyard when I got home at 3am


Drifts in the backyard/driveway


Across the street. I'm just amazed by the mounds at the edge of the street.


My driveway obstacle. (and I wonder why I get stuck...)

And just a moment of self-indulgent spoiled-brat whining- I just talked to my mom, who casually mentioned that my dad and brother were off picking up my brother's new car. Um excuse me? New car? He was driving my dad's old car- a 1990 VW. And it died. So he needed a new car. Now, I love my brother. But he is 23, dropped out of college, and is just living at home, rent free, while mom cooks for him, does his laundry, cleans his room- etc. He has no job, and doesn't seem to have any interest in getting one. (Who can blame him...) His income apparently consists of 20 dollar bills he swipes from my mom's purse, and my dad's credit card. How/why my parents tolerate this is beyond me. So anyway, my mom figured ok, maybe he needs a new car, but it shouldn't be anything fancy. Well apparently they got him pretty much my exact same car. Now, my dad bought me my car. So I really am in no place to bitch about him buying my brother a car. But my mom asked him "Gee, Dad bought her a car when she graduated from medical school. Have you done anything on that level to deserve a new car?" and he said 'um... I cleaned my room...' Whatever... I guess it's no skin off my back. If they can afford it and want to buy him a car, I guess I shouldn't have a problem with it. But honestly I think it's about time they make him earn it. Take away his credit card. Make him get a job. Or take some classes. Make him pay rent. At least make him do his own damn laundry... Sigh. I'm spoiled too, and I don't deny that I'm Daddy's Little Girl in a major way. But I like to think I at least sort of deserve what I've gotten over the years, and have done at least something to earn it. Guess it's not my problem, but for some reason it pisses me off.

Oh- and in case a car isn't enough of a birthday present, my mom has been standing in line at EB Games every day to get him a Wii, too.

Ok, sorry for that rant.

Stay warm peeps- it can't last forever!

-J

P.s. Congrats on 5,000,000 views Paul!