Yessuh.

My brother, he of the football scholarship, managed to re-sprain his calf muscle after less than TWO HOURS of team football practice. Shyeah, that bodes well for the monies.

These bastards are seriously selling Comic-Con tickets already. April 18th to 20th, which means I won't spend any time freezing my ta-tas off while waiting to get into Jacob Javitz. And it also means that I'm probably going to spring for a weekend pass or two. Dammit.

Oh, and one more thing - I like baby doctors. Just this morning one walked up to me, completely serious and earnest, and asked, "This is the second time I've seen a nurse document 'doctor informed' when I, in fact, hadn't been informed. What does that mean, precisely?" I'm so used to being needled and/or yelled at by Attendings (our floor isn't considered a teaching floor anymore), so I looked at this new intern (he started in June) and had to gauge whether he was kidding or not. He wasn't. He was dead-up wondering what it meant when a nurse documented something that turned out to be incorrect. I kindly told him it probably meant the nurse had mistaken another member of the medical staff for him.

Ah, the baby doctors. You just want to pinch their cheeks.