I'll take Memorial Day for 100, Alex

I woke up Thursday night to my text message alert. Who on earth is texting me? Oh, if only it were a wrong-number-drunk-dialer.
Our back-up call system is called "Jeopardy." As in, your plans are in jeopardy. And for a span of 7 days, I am in jeopardy. That late-night page meant that instead of frolicking through heme clinic like I've been doing for the last week, I would spend Friday admitting patients. To cardiology. Boo. Luckily the intern and med student are rock stars, so I did very little in the way of supervision, unless frequent snacking counts for more than I think it does.
I traded my Saturday jeopardy, so I spent the day shopping.
I held my breath all day Sunday but made it through unscathed.
Monday, Memorial Day, has not been so kind. I sit, even now, in VA triage. I guess Vanderbilt thought marrying a veteran wasn't enough; I need to show my appreciation for military service by working the ER here at the Va Spa today. The count so far is two rashes and a "my brother poked me in the eye." I kid not. I never kid about neither rashes nor eye pokings.
I wonder what joys Tuesday will hold. Maybe a daily double is waiting in the wings.
But seriously, thank you to all the vets for your service. And seriously, tell your brothers not to poke you in the eye.

Battle of the sexes

I thought you might be entertained by the occasional glimpse into the psychology of the Scholz marriage. Below are the usual trains of thought of both Nick and myself when picking out our clothes. This happened pretty much as described yesterday.

Nick: What should I wear? It's hot. Shorts. Huh, I'm already wearing shorts. A t-shirt. Huh, I'm already wearing a t-shirt. Done.

Beth: What should I wear? Well, wonder what Anna will be wearing. I know she had to be at the hospital this morning, so she might still be dressed in work clothes. Or maybe she went home to change. Well, I'm already wearing this green shirt. And it's hot, so shorts would be good. But I always get cold in movie theaters, so I should wear pants. These jeans would look good, but they're too long to wear with the flats I already have on. So I need heels. My toenails aren't painted, so I need to either paint them or wear close-toed shoes. Hmm, I wouldn't have time to let new polish dry, so I better wear close-toed shoes. Dang it, these shoes are too nice to go with a plain green shirt. Hmm... Maybe I should change into this sheer white shirt. I wonder how it would look with the jeans. I'll try it over the green shirt before I commit to changing. Huh, I kinda like how this looks over the green shirt. Maybe I'll just wear it like this. Should I leave the few top buttons undone? Done? Undone? Undone. I need a necklace. Super long beads? No. Other super long beads? No. Diamond pendant? No. Oh, yeah! My dark green chunky bead necklace. I really like that thing, but I never get to wear it. Ooo! It looks really good with this. Earrings? Maybe the wooden dangly ones? No, too much. No earrings. But I always wear earrings. No, still too much. No earrings. Watch, on. Wedding band, on. Engagement ring, on. My diamond isn't as sparkly as usual. I should really clean it. I wonder if I have time to clean it. Yeah, I can. OK. Look in the mirror, over the sink first. Yes, good enough. Now full length mirror. OK, still good enough. From the side. Gee, I wish I could keep my stomach flat. But as good as it's gonna get tonight, I guess. OK. OK. OK. Done.

My kind of town

I find myself unexpectedly in Chicago today. I consider myself a Texan to the core, but the Windy City holds a special place in my heart. You can have New York, arrogant as a first-born among American cities accustomed to recognition and easy success. And LA, too, the spoiled youngest child, full of frivolity and excess. Give me Chicago, a Midwestern bastion of the American dream, a city content with earning every inch of its impressive height and breadth through its own hard work and industry.
And, oh, the food. Houston, you have some competition out there after all.
For as long as I can remember, my family's trips to Chicago have revolved around food. By this I specifically mean a carefully calculated tour de force of all my dad and uncle's favorite spots from their childhood. I now offer to you, Cyber Friends, the cumulative food knowledge of three generations of Zarnows. Are you ready?

Carson's: BBQ at its best, sloppy and dripping with sauce. None of this Tennessee dry rub(bish). Don't even bother looking at the menu; go straight for the baby backs and au gratin potatoes.
Poochie's: Kosher beef hot dogs. Just don't let them see you put ketchup on it.
Walker Brothers Pancake House: Looks a little dinky at first glance, but you'll think differently after your first bite of the apple pancake, a delicious concoction of a Dutch baby topped with glazed cinnamon apples.
Al's Italian Beef: Perfect for when you're not in the mood for a hot dog, as if that could ever happen.
Pizzeria Uno: Put the Gino's East down slowly, walk away, and no one gets hurt. Uno's wins, greasy hands down. If it's too busy, head one block over to Due.
Lawry's the Prime Rib: Yes, like the spice company. Not vegetarian friendly. The menu consists of prime rib or prime rib with lobster. I'm still trying to recreate their creamed corn.
Garrett's Popcorn: Follow your nose down Michigan Avenue. Shopping is hungry work; you'll need a snack. Odd as it sounds, try the combo of mixed cheese and caramel corn.
Fannie Mae Candy: Get two boxes. One for you and one for someone you love. Or one for you now and one for you later. I don't judge.

And that's the knowledge bomb for today, kiddos. Enjoy.

The good life

I all too frequently start my entries with an apology for the lack thereof due to generalized business. But not this time. I haven't been posting anything lately because my life is so cush that I'm actually out living it! And for that, I do not apologize. Not at all.

I am living the dream of a clinic rotation. This means that I roll in at 7:30am every day; yes, this qualifies as late in my world. I eat my early morning snack (already had breakfast at home!) during lecture and then piddle off to my assigned clinic, where I see a couple patients for whom I have no ongoing responsibility. Wanna hear my opening line? "Hi, Mr. S. I'm Dr. Scholz, working with Dr. Who. I'm his opening act today. So, you'll see me, and then I'll bring in the closer." Works like a charm.

Lunch conference is cake. Or more precisely cookie. They've been feeding us Bread and Company a lot lately, and I love love love their chocolate chunk cookies. Afternoon clinic is an enantiomer of my morning, and I'm out by 4pm every day. I spend the evenings with my hubby and puppies. I'm even doing a little pleasure reading again! The latest is Water for Elephants. I'll let you know what I think when I'm finished.

Well, enough with the typing already. I hope your week is going as well as mine.

Back to the future

I saw a rather unusual sight walking to clinic from the cafeteria this afternoon. There was a woman walking towards me down the long, glassed-in hallway, and as she approached I couldn't help but stare for she was wearing the same dress as me! Royal blue with white circles all over and a mandarin collar. Hard to miss. Purchased at an outlet mall in Florida a year ago. Hard to find. Curious, no? It gets better... She was wearing silver shoes (me, too!) and had blond hair, but she was probably a decade older than me.
I wonder if she is future me travelling back in time to give me a message about life-altering events to come. If that's the case, I'll never get my message; without even a glance in my direction she walked right by me and down the echoing brick-floored hallway to the cafeteria, from which I'd just come. Sure hope I didn't miss my date with destiny.

Rainy day feeling

Monday morning found me back at the hospital for lack of options, which is particularly sad if you know that Monday was supposed to be my day off. But there I was, sitting around still in my scrubs. At least they were clean; thanks, Christen! We had our next small miracle when Nick discovered one of the roads from our neighborhood was passable. So I bolted from clinic and helped him pack up our unfortunately thawed out frozen goods, which we hauled to a friend's house and stuck in her freezer. We celebrated the triumphant non-flooding of our house with a fajita dinner (yum, HEB!). Nick and I decided to decline the kind offer of a spare bedroom so as not to leave the dogs alone overnight. We awoke sometime in the night to a loud electric beeping followed by a guttural roar (think Braveheart or Gladiator) and then raucous cheering up and down the street. I was so half-asleep and dazed that I went promptly back to sleep after Nick exclaimed, "The power is back!"
I made it to work Tuesday morning looking much more like myself in a pencil skirt and heels, and life pretty much felt like back to normal. The internet and cable even came back that evening. But while my life was miraculously untouched, so many others were not spared. Footage of standing water loops continuously on local and national news; piles of carpet, furniture, and stuffed garbage bags line the curb of my street and testify to the devastation of a city. This fleeting glimpse of such a powerful storm gives me some insight to how Noah's contemporaries must have felt. How petrifying to watch the entire world wash away! How merciful and good the Lord is to promise never again. I also understand why the Old Testament Israelites erected monuments after the Lord gave a victory or showed his mighty hand. Father, may I always remember how on this day you spared my family. Amen.

Singin' in the rain

So you may have heard that we got a little rain in Nashville this weekend, to the tune of a record 13.75" over 48 hours. I spent Saturday on call, mostly oblivious to the brewing city-wide disaster. I'd heard the rumors of flash flood and tornado warnings, but in that moment I didn't mind at all since the rough weather resulted in only 5 of a potential 9 admissions.
Then Sunday came, and all I wanted to do was go home. I had paid my Team Failure dues and was ready to play with my puppies, hug my honey, and above all bake something to celebrate switching to clinics. But the rain had other plans. Nick informed me he was stranded in and I was barricaded out of our neighborhood since every possible route was flooded or mudslided. So there I was, all dressed up with nowhere to go except the one place I really, really did not want to be. Then a wonderful co-resident offered to let me stay at her place right by the hospital Sunday night while she was on call. So Nick turned on his phone every 4 hours (to save the battery since the power was out), and I gave him the latest weather update. I also made a few panicked phone calls to all of you, and I thank you for your comforting words.
For anyone who doubts, let me state right now that God does indeed answer prayer. Forecasters predicted an additional 6" of rainfall Sunday night, which would have crested the rise in our backyard and flooded our basement. But then the forecast changed to 3-6" followed by a further downgrade to 1-3." And then, lo and behold, we hardly got sprinkled on that whole night. Morning brought the wonderful realization that the water in our yard had crested without flooding our home. I spent most of Sunday wishing I were home with Nick, but in retrospect I'm glad the Lord had other plans. Sitting on our deck watching the water rise would have sent me straight into panic mode, and my freaking out may have driven Nick up the wall. He already had enough to handle, what with Izzy hiding in the bathtub and Jonesy barking at the thunder.
At least it was all downhill from there.

More to come...