A Day of Wine Tasting

Ged Erwin after visiting 4 vinyards including the ultrasnobby 29

Golazo messi getafe

Simply magnificent

Ronaldinho vs Chelsea CL 04/05

Two years ago but still a tremendous goal.

Messi Goal vs Mexico Copa America

One touch goal by El Pulga, Lionel Messi.
Visca Barca

Kashif on America's Got Talent in Chicago

Sweet! The Desi Napolean Dynamite

Asha walking with jealous puppy dog

Asha taking her steps for the camera, while a jealous attention seeking puppy dog trys to steal the spotlight

work rant

The truth is that I am scared. I'm scared to do what in my heart I know is right. I am not happy in my job, but I have worked so long and so hard to get to this point. To say that I might be wrong, that I might have made a mistake is a scary proposition. To admit to everyone else that I went into the wrong specialty, the wrong career, or chose to work at the wrong hospital scares me.

Is it wrong to want to be ordinary?

Something happened after the birth of my daughter. I almost wish for the simple existence of a 9-5, Monday through Friday job rather than what I am doing right now. Sure people would trade places with me in an instant and the banality of a menial job would bring it's own set of problems.

Still the point is that I am getting paid $140,000 a year and I am frustrated and mentally beaten down after working at this God-forsaken hospital. You could pay me $500,000 and I would probably still feel the same way. At least it's not about the money then eh? I want to do the right thing, I want to be excellent and work in an environment where people actually care about doing the right thing, about being excellent in every way. I want to help patients get better but I am harassed by case managers or charge nurses about sending an ICU patient out to the floor because they want to save some money when I know what is going to happen when they get sent out to the room furthest from the nurses station. Fill out your forms. Call me for sleep, pain, or diet orders but don't call me about the patient's antibiotics or immunosuppressant medications.

A while back I admitted a patient for a deep venous thrombosis (DVT or blood clot for those unfamiliar with medical jargon) and treated him with heparin. Yet I was told to fill out a form detailing my method for prophylaxis or prevention of a DVT in a patient who was already diagnosed and being treated for a DVT. He has a DVT!!! He's on IV heparin!!! Arrggh, Senseless. Nurses car more about filling out forms, following policy, and providing the illusion of patient care then actually delivering patient care.

I was right about her when I sent her out the last time against my better judgement. I told you what was going to happen but you don't care. You were just following orders. Move the meat. Another day, another dollar. Worry about hiring more nurses or giving them less senseless forms to fill out and replace that with common sense and good

I feel underappreciated and used. I don't have an office. I don't even have a freaking business card. I am a stopgap measure, a hired gun, a mercenary, but yet here I am thrust into the void to do the work and clean up the mess while others I work with nurses and adminstrators that care more about senseless policy then actual patient care. No one wants to take responsibility. That's not my job.

This Mortal Coil

Song to the Siren - This Mortal Coil

On the floating, shapeless oceans
I did all my best to smile
til your singing eyes and fingers
drew me loving into your eyes.
And you sang "Sail to me, sail to me;
Let me enfold you."
Here I am, here I am waiting to hold you.
Did I dream you dreamed about me?
Were you here when I was full sail?
Now my foolish boat is leaning, broken love lost on your rocks.
For you sang, "Touch me not, touch me not, come back tomorrow."
Oh my heart, oh my heart shies from the sorrow.
I'm as puzzled as a newborn child.
I'm as riddled as the tide.
Should I stand amid the breakers?
Or shall I lie with death my bride?
Hear me sing: "Swim to me, swim to me, let me enfold you."
"Here I am. Here I am, waiting to hold you."

No particular reason. I just love this song.

I'm growing tired of fighting windmills

"I'm older than I wish to be.
This town holds no more for me.
All my life, I tried to find another way.
I don't care for your attitude.
You bring me down, I think you're rude
All my life, I try to make a better day...."

Work has really been getting to me. After all this studying, training, and preparation I'm finally out in what I thought was the real world. Is it really? Am I just in a bad situation or am I actually unhappy doing what I thought I wanted to do?

There are moments when I find myself happy and I can recall why I went into medicine and in particular why I went into critical care medicine, but they are outnumbered by the agony of the idiocy and Kafkaesque attitude that permeates the "Center for Clincal Excellence" that I work in. Floors are understaffed. Nurses page for three things: pain, diet, and sleep. The vitals signs, chart, and medication list are all kept in separate folders in three different places in a design to maximize inefficiency and increase frustration. Stat chest x-rays that take an hour to performed. Intubation trays with laryngoscopes that do not have functioning batteries. Tiny trash cans that are always overflowing. Annoying computer phone operators "Oh I'm sorry, I'll work on recognizing that name better. Transfering to the operator" (no you won't you're a stupid machine that is trying to pacify me).

As an intern, resident and fellow everything was exciting and there was the rush of procedures, intubation, central lines, thoracentesis, arterial lines. I was learning. There was teaching, an espirit de corps, a band of brothers mentality among the other residents. Sometime in the last few years that magical feeling, that rush of adrenaline that came with trying to salvage the unsalvagable, well it died. Maybe it was with the 80 hour work week and the new mentality among residents these days. Maybe it's me.

"Backbeat the word on the steet is that the fire in your heart is out.."

I thought things would be different in academic medicine, that I would be the attending guiding the residents and fellows and we would work as a team. Now all I get are notes that are merely data gathering with no thought put into the differential diagnosis or treatment plan. It's merely a note for a note's sake so that they can get out of the hospital by 3 pm.

"Do I still have to follow this patient..'cause I don't think I'm learning much from following Mrs. Jones?"

Tough shit pal. I took care of plenty of uninteresting patients as an intern and resident. Nursing home placement, Loss of caregiver. These admissions sucked and we didn't particularly like them. We did our job, complained in private and didn't whine in front of an attending about having to work too hard. We were told that there was "something to be learned from every patient." I'm sick of hearing residents complain about having to stay past 3 or 4 pm when I have to stay until the work is done.

"Oh life! It's bigger, it's bigger than you and you are not me
The lengths that I will go to, the distance in your eyes
Oh no, I've said too much. I've set it up.
That's me in corner
That's me in the spotlight, losing my religion."

Save the Cheerleader Save the World

They Shot Me in Denver

Joey Porter, a.k.a. Peazy, was released today by the Steelers in a salary cap move. A fierce competitor on the field and an emotional leader of the defense. It's a shame to see him go. Best of luck. Not a good start for the Tomlin era.

Prince Halftime Show

Prince rocked the house and I was there to witness it all. Never again will he sing Purple Rain, while it is actually raining and with purple lighting to boot. Oooh hoo hooo hooo! Pur-ple Rain...Purple Rain!

When I Knew

Do you remember the time when you knew? Knew that she or he was the one?

We were sitting on a park bench in Barcelona, watching an old lady feed ducks day old bread. I was staring at my eventual wife trying to take her picture. She of course was trying to avoid having her picture taken, but looking lovely nonetheless. At that moment, that singular moment, where she was smiling I knew. I knew at that moment that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with this woman, to have moments like this; sitting on a park bench, laughing and feeding ducks.

Asha versus Time Magazine

Killing time in LaGuardia Airport. Apparently she'd rather eat the magazine than read it.

Greatest Season Ever, Texas Longhorns 2005

Vince Young takes over the game and wills the Longhorns to a national title

Asha

Asha at two months

Do you know what I mean?

AMarbleinspace posted the following on my Youtube Video of my daughter Asha

Hi. do you think the name Asha is suitable for a white person. cuz i know this white baby whos parents called her Asha. and it doesnt work to me "and im not being racist" but do you know what i mean

As the father of a "biracial" daughter I certainly anticipated a certain amount of prejudice or teasing that my daughter would have to endure. Hell I still get jokes about my last name that people think are oh so original when then spout them.

"Oh that's a good one....no really you're the first one to come up with that." I got made fun of the first day of Kindergarden and while it has slowed down a bit, the jokes keep coming.

Needless to say I was only slightly put off at first and then I thought that this guy is a complete clown. Viewing the limited information on his profile confirmed this and I dismissed this guy as a misinformed and likely uneducated tool. Then I returned to my smiling daughter and forgot what I was upset about in the first place.

Making my daughter smile and laugh are the greatest joys I can experience at the moment.

"Let us be thankful for the fools. But for them the rest of us could not succeed." - Mark Twain, Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar

Cast No Shadow

"Here's a thought for every man who tries to understand what's in his hands. Bound with all the weight of all the words he tried to say and as he faced the sun he cast no shadow."

Ah so I've entered the realm of blogging and thus committed myself to the pressure of trying to come up with witty and insightful comments about life, the universe, and everthing after (apologies to Douglas Adams). Blogging appears much like acting, writing, painting, or any other form of art - superficially easy on the surface but it actually takes quite a bit of talent to be properly done.

Girls keep diaries and sensitive guys keep journals I suppose. I kept one once in college, and I still have it in fact. It mostly contains ramblings and some badly written poems written during times of stress or love-ridden angst. After seeing or hearing about various people who ended up in trouble or rehab after their parents read their journals, I realized one should never write anything that you would not want broadcast to the rest of the world. Hopefully I will keep you entertained and keep myself out of trouble.

"It is dangerous to be sincere, unless you are also stupid." - The Doctor's Dilemma, 1906 George Bernard Shaw