A brief digression

I've been saving this post for a rainy day. Unfortunately, not literally rainy. My dying tomato plan dreams of literal rain. We're talking figurative here; I'm suffering from a paucity of creativity and wittiness. Good thing I've got my fall back plan. It doesn't have anything to do with what's going on with me right now, but eh, blogger's prerogative, right? I'll be back later this week with my usual dazzling array of wit and sage wisdom. Until then, happy viewing.

Internal Medicine Picnic, June 2010

Hawaii vacation, September 2009



And quite possibly my favorite picture of us, EVER. Engagement photos better late than never.

Thanks, Kristen!

Not so pretty in pink

Have you ever thought you were really good at something and then had it taken away from you? Stinks, right?
No, I'm not talking about work. I'm a darn good doctor. I'm talking about my skills (or newly apparent lack thereof) as an interior designer. Specifically, I'm referring to my formerly uncanny ability to pick paint colors. I mean, I picked eleven different colors altogether for our house in Nashville and loved every last one from paint swatch to done deal up on the walls.
But I've found my downfall... pink. Gizmo's room decor is going to be pink with aqua and just a bit of lime green here and there. I can picture it now... three white walls and one pink wall with a thick, horizontal aqua stripe. Oh, the white crib will stand out so nicely against the rich, saturated pink.
Game time: I have a color picked. Nick comments on how bright a pink it is. I start to doubt, which was clearly mistake #1 as I've always ignored his paint color comments before. So instead of going with Bridesmaid, I head one shade lighter next door to Cotton Candy. Fast forward to the home improvement store. The guy shows us the color before he pounds it shut (the nails on my pink paint coffin), and I realize this pink is bright. But not the rich, watermelon hue I'd envisioned. Like, neon. But it always dries darker, right? This leads me straight to mistake #2 in which I quell the inner voice telling me how ugly this paint is. Drying darker takes us from neon to Pepto Bismol. Nick tried to be encouraging and call it bubblegum.
Back to the drawing board. We're down to two much darker, deeper pinks. Watermelon and Dragon Fruit. But now I can't commit; I'm paralyzed with paint selection fear.
I think I'm going to have to join the mere mortals of home design and... buy tiny paint sample jars before committing to a color. This goes against everything in my impulse-decision making self, but I just can't get out of my own head. Hopefully I'll have some good news on the other side of my re-pinked wall.

Life of pregnant Bethie: Cookie Monster

I had a long, icky day on call Sunday. Apparently there was a massive gout outbreak in Houston, TX, and I was the only one qualified to stamp it out. I tell you that to tell you this... I came home, and Nick had a fresh batch of chocolate chip cookies coming out of the oven, just for me. To make my bad day better. Cute huh?
I was sitting at the computer, leaning back in the chair with my feet propped up on the desk. He brought me a little plate with my cookies. And set it. On. My. Belly. And it didn't fall. It stayed. Right there.
I have grown my own personal table. I hope Gizmo's proud of herself.
Heck, in a few weeks I'll be ale to balance a BIG plate of cookies. Keep 'em coming, honey!

Battle of the sexes: Pink, it's my new obsession

Preface: Gizmo is a girl!

The A/C was fixed Wednesday, so we are out of the hotel and back into our house. Good.

Work has been busy. Very busy. Journal club presentation quite overwhelming. Not as good.

We registered for baby stuff. Very good. As in, muy bueno.

There is so much pink to be had, I don't even know where to begin. Nick on the other hand, doesn't have the same appreciation.

Nick: Why is everything pink?!
Me: Because we're in the baby girl section.
Nick: But, why is everything pink?
Me: Look, here's a purple thing.
Nick: Why is everything pink?!

Upon spying tiny baby Batman onesies in the boy section...
Nick: How come all the good stuff is for boys? How come they don't make this for girls?
Me: They do make good stuff for girls.
Nick: They don't make Batman or Star Wars for girls.
Me: Tell you what. You can put a Batman onesie on her, as long as you also put a giant flower on her head so everyone knows she's a girl.
Nick: Why is everything pink?!

While looking at even more pink things...
Nick: You realize I'm gonna get her Star Wars toys, right? And trucks. Stuff I wanna play with.
Me: You realize, right, that Han Solo and GI Joe will be used to rescue the princesses? And marry Barbie? I mean, Barbie has to marry someone.
Nick: Why is everything pink?!

So you see, everything's coming up (pink) roses in our house. At least as far as I'm concerned.

Steam treatment

Ay, ay, ay. Today has brought both fantaaaastic and really yicky news. Good news first.

Nick has a job! Hallelujah and yippee-kay-yay! And not just any job, a job at... Schlumberger. Ooooo, aaaah. I've been told that this means something to you if you have any contact with the oil and gas industry. So many thanks for any and every prayer dedicated to Nick and his job search. Like I've been telling him for years, we just had to get back to Texas so good things could start happening!

And now for the rest of the story: Our home's air conditioner died today. A moment of silence please. After some back and forth with the landlord, it looks like somebody will be over sometime tomorrow afternoon to maybe possibly see about starting to get it fixed. That is a reeeeeeally long time to go without A/C when your house feels like an indoor sauna. As in, it went up 8 degrees in less than 2 hours. And I'm not super pregnant, but I'm pregnant enough that I was particularly uncomfortable (translation: particularly whiney). So I'm writing this from the chilly comfort of a hotel room. Yup, Nick, me, Gizmo, Jonesy, Izzy, and Dallas are shackin' up for the night. Wish us luck, folks.

Walking the plank, aka Sitting for Boards

Get it? Plank, board, plank, board? Hee, hee. Anyhoo...
I took my internal medicine boards today. Two things on that.

1) My specialty proved quite advantageous. There were a lot of rheum questions on that test, which from my perspective was great.
Other (hypothetical) person: Man, there was a lot of rheum on my boards. :(
Me: Man, there was a lot of rheum on my boards! :)

2) This brought back some horrendous memories of vascular surgery. You see, I had a rather difficult attending who liked to pimp. A lot.

[Note: This section has been edited for content to avoid getting myself hunted down by ABIM for disclosing classified testing material.]

Attending: Why does [this specific phenomenon] happen in renal failure?
Me: I don't know.
Attending: Sigh. Because of [this specific reason].

The fortunate part for me was that she didn't remember any of us, so the questions got repeated over and over and over again.

Attending: Why does [this specific phenomenon] happen in renal failure?
Me: This seems too easy. Is it a trick question? Well, I'll go for broke. Because of [this specific reason].
Attending: Hm. Very good.
Me: Woohoo! Point for Bethie!

Then, lo and behold, one of my questions today was....

42. Why does [this specific phenomenon] happen in renal failure?

And after fighting back a string of PTSD memories, I knew the answer.

Curses and many thanks, Dr. X.

Chez Bethie

As you all know, I love to cook. I especially love trying new recipes. Sometimes this goes well, and sometimes...not. I am happy to report that today I had not one, not two, but three resounding culinary victories! This is very welcome news since I've not been cooking much lately (lots of boards studying!) and was a little afraid I'd find my skills rusty.

I. Mint lemonade
Finding myself inspired by Angela's hunt for the perfect basil lemonade, I scoured the internet today for a minty variety of lemonade. Thank you, Bobby Flay and my voraciously growing mint plant. The original plan had been to drink this while laying out/studying in the backyard. Nick even agreed to refill my drink and spritz me with the hose periodically (yes, I think that would make him my cabana boy), but with a heat index of 105 degrees, I just couldn't do it. But I'm taking a raincheck on the cabana boy offer.

II. Sauteed chicken and zucchini with parsley-tarragon sauce
Yum and more yum! Cooking Light is notorious (in my humble opinion) for underestimating how long it takes to cook chicken. So yes, you can tell me all day long what a super-fast 20-minute recipe you have, but I just don't believe you anymore. I tried to get around this by pounding out my chicken breasts, and you know what? It mostly worked. Still took a little longer than the 4 minutes per side they instructed, but overall cut down on the cook time by a lot. And the light dredging of flour gave them a nice crust without seeming to heavily breaded. Wanna know the best part? This dish required one cutting board and one skillet, for which the dishwasher (aka my darling husband) is very thankful.

III. Buttermilk Parmesan mashed potatoes
My concoction is really more inspired by this Cooking Light recipe than actually following it. I 1) soured regular milk instead of using buttermilk 2) used plain Parmesan instead of Parmiggiano-Reggiano 3) used Yukon golds instead of russetts 4) tripled the butter and last but most certainly not least 5) added a clove of minced garlic. But tell you what, cyber-amigos, they were oh so tasty. Way better than the original recipe I'm certain.
No, no pictures of dinner. Sorry, but I can't bring myself to let a perfectly cooked meal go cold while I take pictures. But these are all going into The Book.

I'm hoping this turns into a streak. Nick's birthday is this week, so I'll be making the traditional chocolate cake at the birthday boy's request. However, I'm going to attempt fresh mint-Oreo ice cream to go with it. I'm putting the mint plant through its paces this week, huh? Wish me luck.

Not in Kansas no I mean Tennessee anymore

How I miss knowing and being known. Gone are the days where I could answer a page, "Hey, it's Beth," and the person on the other end of the phone knew who it was and shot straight with me. Now it's more like this...

Me: Hi, this is Beth Scholz with rheumatology.
Other person: Huh?
Me: Beth Scholz, The rheum fellow.
Other person: Uhhh...
Me: I  was paged? I'm the rheum fellow.
Other person: Oh! (the surprised kind) OK. Um, yeah, we have a consult. [Insert long, rambling, boring medical story here.]
Me: OK, be there soon. Sigh, the sad kind.

Back where I come from, it would have gone something like this...

Me: Hey, it's Beth.
Other person: Hey, Beth! I've got that lady with [short but still boring medical story]. Remember her? You actually admitted her three times last year.
Me: Mm, Jane Smith, right?
Other person: Yeah, yeah. That's the one
Me: Ug, back with another UTI?
Other person: But this time she also has [more boring medical data], so we're worried about lupus. The [lots of boring rheum tests] are pending. And by the way, have you baked anything lately?
Me: OK, be there soon. And yes, there's cookies in the library!

But seriously, there's lots of good stuff down here. I just find myself a bit surprised by how much I miss my Vandy peeps. Guess it maybe felt a bit more like home that I thought.

Lost in translation

I was consulted on a patient who is just visiting Houston. She lives in Chicago, so that's where her doctors and all her medical records are. I asked her doctor's name and phone number so I could contact him. Mind you, this is all in Spanish, which I speak (mostly) fluently still. Allow me to translate.

Me: And where does Dr. Smith work?
Patient: Cuconee Hospital.
Me: Cuconee?
Patient: Yes, Cuconee.
Me: Ooooook.

What?! Where the heck is Cuconee Hospital? I really want to ask how to spell it, but we tried spelling things earlier without much success. So I decide to stick to Rule #1 Fake it til you make it and head to Google for some help. Google doesn't know what to make of Cuconee Hospital either. It suggests lots of various spellings that lead to me places in Oklahoma, which is not Chicago. I even try it with a "K" and yet another different spelling I found in another resident's note, all to no avail.
Her doctor has a really common name, but I decide to go for broke and type in "Dr. Smith rheumatology Chicago." And guess what the first search result is?

Dr. Smith, Rheumatology, Cook County Hospital.

Oooooh! Cook County! Not Cuconee. Cook County - say it with a Spansh accent, and you'll get it.

Subtitles would sure be helpful sometimes.

PS I think I may write a strongly worded letter. Blogspot does not recognize "rheumatology" as a word and wants me to change it to "hematology." How narrow-minded.

Happy #6 to us

Well, technically Saturday was our anniversary. But we were be in San Antonio, partying like rock stars for our last Gizmo-less anniversary. I think the official term is "babymoon." Regardless, I was there and not here, so this post is retroactive.
We had a great time. Mostly. Except the part where Nick sustained a major flesh wound poolside. But the hotel room was snazzy (yay 21st floor of the Grand Hyatt), the food was great (more on that in a minute), and we were together (awwww).
But seriously, the food was great. We had our big dinner at Biga on the Banks, which is a trendy stopping just short of pretentious New American restaurant right on the river (but not the Riverwalk). We had a table just overlooking the water, which was perfect for watching the rain fall, which it did for part of the evening. Nick even took a foray into the wild culinary world of elk and quail. A bit gamey, we decided. (No, I don't really know what "gamey" means, but I'm hoping no one will call me on it.) Dessert in particular was fabulous, just fabulous. Nick's choice of mint chocolate souffle tart with fresh mint ice cream took the cake. Oh, twas so tasty. So tasty, my friends.
We also got to see some of Nick's family, totalling 1 aunt, 2 uncles, and 2 cousins. Also quite fun. Pool time at their hotel Sunday afternoon proved much less hazardous to our health as well.
So now we're home. We may not have a rooftop pool, but there were three waggily tails awaiting us upon our return. And a full work week. Here goes.