Wednesday, August 16, 2006

Hit the ground stumbling (aka the Ketone Express)

It's been a hectic seven days. I haven't blogged recently because I'm tired. I tried to blog the last weekend but it became too wordy and hurt my brain so let's do dot points. The facts:

  • finished in the bush by telling a lady she had ovarian cancer...and almost missed diagnosing a lady with an already partially ruptured ectopic pregnancy. Very Bad.
  • New rotation. General Internal Medicine. Haven't finished before 2100hrs (9:00pm to normal people, or halfway through Grey's/Housewives/OC/House) since starting. Is it my woeful inefficiency, or is it the job? Very Bad.
  • Hollow Hallmark: I've pronounced people dead before but I've never had to do it in front of the family while this patient died in front of their eyes. There are no words for those moments, but you say them anyway to fill the silence, as if it will fill empty hearts.
  • Too many one meal days, but as any paediatrician knows, it's the dehydration that'll get you. Lips feel like sandpaper. Need IV.
  • Was told the previous intern took one week off on 'stress leave'. Does not bode well. Apparently the boss nurse is a power freak. Bring her on. Starting to feel like a fight. If she gives any of the interns shit I preparing a nice, Hollywood style soapbox Samuel L Jackson holier than thou speech.
That's about it for now.

Oh, and I discovered Fiona Apple finally. My waif-singer-songwriter of the moment.

Tuesday, August 01, 2006

That girl is poisonnnn....

I staggered back out to the bush on Monday morning, still recovering from an unaccustomed night out on Saturday (a good whopping 24hours after) and in fact I'm still going to blame Saturday night for slowing down my neurons today. Today...being...Tuesday...

I will remember two things from Saturday night:

1) The gorgeous bartender Anja (not her real name) who graciously smiled when I told her that she was...quote-unquote "very pretty" - if truth is the first casualty of war then eloquence is the first victim of Jack-the Ripper-Daniels...

and 2) The gorgeous Asian bar skank who smiled, shook her badonkadonk and then used my mate for a drink...

Let's beef. I'll paint the picture...

The floor is bangin' - Usher's Yeah! still packs a whallop when it's dropped at just the right time and I'm feelin' the bounce. Me and my mate are also feelin' our livers catch up to us, but we're happy and still vertical, so we bounce bounce bounce on down to the bar for "sustenance".

At this particular bar they let people dance on the bar itself (a la Coyote Ugly). When we got to the bar we looked up and found this lovely young Asian girl, sleek in a ponytail and a dress that was a flash of pink and orange, working it so well we decided (read: livers decided) to show our appreciation with a bit of respectful ruckus. When she invited my mate to get up on the bar and dance with her I thought we'd hit the jackpot!

I respectfully removed myself from the vicinity and gave my friend Maximum Operating Room. Why not? He's a good bloke, not too hard on the eyes - I could be without a drinking buddy for a little while. Out of earshot (in a club I guess that's not more than 20cm) I glanced back and found that they had come down from the bar and were talking. A Good Sign.

Things were Right With the World.

...for about five seconds.

It was almost like I blinked and then suddenly my boy was next to me again.

"What happened??"

"Mate...she used me for a drink!"

"What??"

"Yeah, I got her a drink and then she disappeared..."

Okay - so my boy was somewhat intoxicated and he's no Usher at the best of times, but this turn of events angered me. It was Unacceptable and felt like a violation of the Geneva Convention on Pretty Girl-Ethanol Tariff.

It's expected that a guy will offer a girl a drink if he likes her. Sometimes even he's just trying to hit on your hot friend he'll buy you a drink. While he's not doing it for free, he's not doing it as currency either. My understanding was that the drink offer is Code. Correct me if I'm getting old:

"Would you like a drink?" or "Can I get you a drink?"

EQUALS

"Will you hold a beverage in your hand long enough for me to try to put my best foot forward but ultimately embarass myself at which point you are free to leave?"

So if you don't want to even know what the guy's offering, just DECLINE the drink.

This is not revolutionary in any way.

So when my mate told me what happened two interpretations can be seen here:

a) She actually did hold the drink long enough for him to embarass himself; OR
b) She broke the rules and was a GOLD DIGGER.

I had to investigate further. I hunted her down (not a hard target while standing on a bar looking sexy) offered her drink myself and she accepted and invited me up onto the bar itself. At this point I had to remind myself of my Mission, because when you're in front of a hot girl and you're elevated on a bar under the influence things can go...woozy.

"I have something to confess," I say.

"What?"

"I wanted to know why you blew my man off - he's a good bloke -"

"Who? Oh...I didn't blow him off...I - I dunno, I just guess I don't go to clubs to meet people, I just go to have a good time and then move on."

"That's pretty pessimistic - you ought to rethink that -"

She shrugged. I was sobering up enough for my cynical detective reasoning skills to kick in. Here is a dissection of the case in front of me:

1) Gorgeous Asian girl
2) Drinking Smirnoff Vodka (Weak) -
3) Sober - too sober to be dancing on a bar JUST for FUN
4) Probably young...20?
5) Doesn't come to clubs to meet people...hmm. To meet corpses maybe? Goes to clubs for the air? For the serenity then?

Conclusion: Attention-seeking Gold-digging Beauty who robbed my mate of money better spent on an after-party load of grease from KFC.

Yes, okay, that's harsh.

No, I don't *actually* know if any words were exchanged between my mate and this girl.

Yes, I could be all wrong.

No, I didn't think about whether I would be making her uncomfortable. (No wait, I did, I think that might've been the purpose.) At least she got a free drink out of me, too.

Yes, I probably could've been more engaging and less blunt.

Sigh. Somebody get me off this soapbox before I fall and break a hip.
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