Muttering

On my way home after a long day, and the traffic has stopped. Trains turning, probably several, too far back to see, so I cut the engine and waited, listening to NPR with Mandy Potenkin talking about The Princess Bride, watching the deer in the cemetery across the way. Tired, open to the cooling evening, glare of autumnal sun. Better than the day before, clogged in "game" snarl. I do detest football, and all it's evil works, and all it's empty promises.

Listened to a surgeon amazed at a player, obviously getting a concussion, returning to play within ten minutes, amid all the head injury awareness that is obviously not having any effect at all.

Reading the discussion over at the Hax Friday, a woman with a father like mine, conflicted over her need to act during and after his death. A compassionate response from the lead, and I had to stop and breathe deeply. Imagine your childhood bully, grown up, with a daughter for whom he felt nothing but contempt.

Potpourri day wasn't supposed to be, but there it is. Three cases, three surgeons, three different bed/room configurations. First one very demanding, but if demands are met, perfectly pleasant. Second fast, but after a very long delay, too early to get lunch though. Another wait, not as long. Last surgeon a Master Mumbler. Soft tissues? (Mutteryesmutter.) Wound up needing a drill. Need a splint? a sling? "Mutterslingmutter." Oh, need a mini-C-arm, nearly at the end? Sure, takes a few minutes, need to get a number to save it... at least he doesn't get mad about the delays for things he hasn't asked for, still it's a lot of work. Oh, and yes, they are going to need a plaster splint.

After I'm done, I get another nurse a break, then get out the one who came in sick - helping out a very new-to-us RN on a complex case with my very demanding, but if demands are met, perfectly pleasant surgeon. He likes having several in his entourage, but gets unreasonably irritated with just a circulator, especially a new face. So, I stayed until we had her almost all cleared away as they closed incisions, and they had little but the endgame, and I asked her if she would mind if I left. "Oh, no, I thought (sick, first nurse) should have left, but she wouldn't."

Over the past year or so, we have been stripping copper from the bipolar cords used in hand cases, and got $75 from a recycling center for the 30 lbs. They had the party this evening after work. But the Drama Queen would be there, and not only do I never want her in my house, I don't want to socialize with her under any circumstances. I'm also certain that as much as I want to pop her ridiculous nose, D would feel the same within five minutes. I got my own damn beer, and snuggled in next to Moby and D to watch the David Mitchell Soapbox, and the Richard E. Grant safari show.

Thinking about former friend, and a gift from years ago that was completely wrong - from her. And I'm just as glad it all ended. Some friendships are just not really what we think they are, and are best finished off.

But then, I expect so much from friends, something most don't even hope for from a spouse. I begin to realize how much I expect, and how incredibly fortunate I am to have found someone who takes me as I am, whole and unadorned. Words for another day.