Bonus points if you can tell me where that title line comes from. Hint: It's from a sitcom.
My eyes are only half-open right now because I'm super tired but I think most of the super-tired that I'm feeling is actually the hazy weird feeling that I get after I take my migraine medicine. Good news: I no longer have a headache. Bad news: I feel like I'm underwater. Blurble.
Nothing much else to report. Oh, Bellingham is still there, still lovely and peaceful and relaxing. And also quieter and has cheaper more abundant parking. So there, Seattle. Pictures to come soon.
I've been taking care of S. at work for the past two weeks, the latest in my never-ending stream of post-transplant super-sick intubated patients. I read in his chart notes that he told the social worker, pre-transplant, that he hoped for the best outcome because, "...if not, my book will have a lot of empty pages." So far I've pulled S's blood pressure out of the toilet two separate nights and convinced him not to die of cold sepsis one night. But that's all fodder for another post. Right now my eyes are blinking too long and I can hear the ice cream and bad reality TV calling me from the other room.
And also, Boy still eludes me. Another weekend that he's out of town, another week to wait to see him. Ah well. At least I don't feel smothered.