I've realized I like orange on my running shoes. In a world that is slowly losing its color, running is my sanity, my color. After my feet started hurting during runs recently, I had to admit I'd run through another pair. I actually went to a store this time, tried on maybe 9 different pairs. Ultimately decided on a pair that were comfortable despite the left shoe not fitting right, but they were midnight blue with a thin streak of orange and pink across them. That thin streak was enough for me to ignore the issues my left foot was having and make the purchase. Within a week I had officially retired the shoes for return having only 9 toenails left intact. I hadn't realized just how enticing that strip of orange had been until I regretted it. Dumb thing is... this is America. If I want orange on my shoes, chances are there's minimum 20 options to choose from. Choose better.
Currently find myself in the string of an intense few weeks of calls. Last weekend had been gentle on me until Sunday when a patient got home from an evening with his wife and doubled over in pain. When I got the call from the ED for the consult, I hung up and immediately called the on-call anesthesiologist. Mobilized the OR team before even leaving the house to go see the patient. In the end, had him in the OR and on the table approximately 4 hours after his reported onset of pain. Still wasn't fast enough, and what I had hoped would be a quick surgery took all night. I'm thankful everyone was as fast as they were. Definitely could have been even worse for the patient.
I debated driving home after finishing up all the paperwork for the above case, but time was minimal at that point and I'd just have to turn around again for my elective case in the morning. Call rooms are there for a reason. So I crashed and then woke, brushed my teeth, and drank some coffee. As I've previously learned, ever since weaning myself off coffee, surgery doesn't go well when I'm in a caffeinated state. Both my tech and I were extremely tired and over caffeinated that morning, needless to say we were a bit jumpy. But we made it through and ultimately, in the end the case ended beautifully. Maybe in just a round about way to get there; surgery is after all creative.
I am going to blame lack of sleep and coinciding caffeine-induce tachycardia, but for some reason, when I finally made it home, rather than rest, I thought it a good idea to drink more coffee. My body eventually won in the end. The body always wins, I mean look at its Creator; He knew what He was doing with His divine design. But I digress, my body won and I fell asleep, uncomfortably tachycardic and all. I really should start respecting rest a bit more perhaps.
Much Love.
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