Well, it's about 4:30am and I can't get back to bed. Late last night, after we got the baby to bed, I started coming down with yet another head cold. I try and think back to any infectious people I might have touched in the last 24 hours, but I can't. And, of course, yesterday I toughed it out and went to work when I just felt like staying home in bed and came home to baby crankasaurus, whose mouth is sore and my husband has no sympathy ("but my temp is 99.8!") And I got banished to the futon because a. I'm snoring and b. I'm on call and have 2 phones under my pillow threatening to go off at any time. Then I felt all good and sorry for myself and had a big 'ol pity party, population 1.
Fortunately, call's been-well, I don't really want to say-I still have 4 hours to go. And while I want each and every patient to get a kidney, if you could just keep those offers to yourself for 4 more hours, I'd be real appreciative.
As for the pity party, all it takes is a visit to Revive Hope and think about my friend Steve turning blue and coughing up a lung, or go over to Falling Down is Also a Gift and pray for little Anni who looks like she'll need that next liver transplant sooner, not later, or even over to 'Ole PJ with his gimpy leg to realize that I've got nothing to complain about.
Last night, after we got our little post-op patient settled in bed, my husband hugged me and said, "We're so lucky. Like 'win the lottery' lucky." And that is very, very true.