Mohs

When the schedule for the day is large and complicated, as it was yesterday, especially on a Friday, I play to win. Winning, in this context, for me, means being last done. I make it funny, but I actually mean it. Not terribly seriously, but I treat it all day as a game.

"We're contenders, we could still make it!"

That small, joking attitude all day, transformed all. My hips ached madly all morning, my thumb has an open fissure near the corner of the nail and I'm fighting off a cold sore. And by 1700, with over an hour to go yet, while I was certainly tired, I still had energy, still laughing. Which was good, because I then had to deal with the second half of the double* surgeon case, and the surgeon who most gets up my nose.

It was an interesting day, in some ways. The other two rooms had the slow, indecisive (part of why so slow) doc. They should have been done first, but between his double surgeon case, dithering, and a fairly simple, straightforward case in another room - that he added a procedure to without notice, they ultimately won. I actually felt a little disappointed. I genuinely felt bad for the staff in that room.

I also brought my crossword book in. Well, hip scopes involve long stretches when I have to be available - but have very little to do. And I decided to see how many I could do. Five. When I tried to start a sixth, the clues seemed to be in another language, so I decided that five was a goodly number.

On the drive home, detoured around event traffic near the stadium. Home, D made me eggs, rubbed my feet, generally took care of me. Bed insisted on my being down. D went to brush Moby's teeth.

I hear his footsteps. I hear Moby's pawpads. "Ok, go on up... just. 'no, no, no!' Ok, cat... " More catsteps, human following. "Now, oh... c'mon, you know you don't mind this... ." And finally, after a bit more soft thumping of cat chasing, "there you go, and the other side, thank you."

Moby really doesn't mind, but when he's not drowsy, it means a fun game of follow the cat. Sometimes, he plays to win. Or he simply objects to being held - as soon as he realizes it's just the toothbrush, it's "Oh, just that, well fine, now put me back down, I'm busy, people."

Woke to soft guitar strumming, my favorite.


*Two or more procedures done with a second surgeon. There are complicated sterility issues, since cross contamination with two entirely different surgical sites can cause infection - even though it's the same patient in the same room. And having a second surgeon in the room does not make the complexity double, it squares it.

In my case, we had to also change the patient position, move out, and in, several large pieces of equipment. Thankfully both my scrub and I have done this sort of thing before, and were in full agreement on how to proceed. Didn't have much help for the changeover - which was harder - but probably safer. And the second surgeon teasingly told the first surgeon to prep and drape, first surgeon did exactly that. It was funny, but I completely appreciated it, and made sure second surgeon (also the Director of this facility) knew it.