Friday, June 03, 2011



In the bulk section of Whole Foods, I was filling a bag with hazelnuts, a woman next to me was getting almonds.
Woman:  We'd better buy a lot.  They're probably not going to restock these bins.
Me (alarmed):  Why?  Is there some kind of nut emergency?
Woman (looking at me like I must be very strange): No.  Because they're opening the new store next week.

But of course.


You will think this is appalling but Brigid has opted not to participate in her high school graduation tomorrow.  I was a little concerned.  Was she sure? Didn't she want to walk across the stage and get her diploma?  Yes and no.  She says she hated Charlottesville High School, feels no sentimental attachment to it whatsoever and has no desire to participate in the ceremony she has been forced to sit through (and play for) the last three years as a member of the orchestra.  OK then. I have no great love for public school graduation ceremonies (see upcoming post about the Upper Elementary moving up ceremony) and was never accepted by many of the parents of Brigid's classmates--those hyper-competative PTO moms always seem to hate me.  I'm not at all disappointed that I won't have to mingle with them.    Brigid's absence may be noted, but the C'ville nastytongues can wag away.  I will STILL have to get caught up in the traffic nightmare surrounding the graduation because now Grace, as an orchestra member, must play for the ceremony.  Warning to Charlottesvillians:  avoid the area around JPJ Saturday morning--graduation starts at 9:00 and probably ends between 11:00 and 12:00.


One of my patients pooped on my watch.  I was wearing my watch at the time, which means he also pooped on me, highlighting the woeful inadequacy of the protective gloves we wear.  During the clean up of this patient, for which my assistant never showed up to help, I couldn't even reach the trash can and I had to toss my watch, with its cute white leather band,  into the dirty bedpan where it sat, forlorn.  My arm, I scrubbed with the array of disinfectants available to me.  The watch-pooping incident was only the first (albeit the most traumatic) in a string of horrible things that happened to me that night.  When the shift was finally over, I had to stay late for a staff meeting and then had to finish giving a couple of meds to a patient who did not want to be bothered and did not finally leave for the day until 8:49am--I'd arrived at 6:30 the night before.  That's over fourteen hours.  At home I was literally hysterical from exhaustion and sobbed and went into angry laundry-folding mode.  I kept saying, "A patient POOPED ON MY WATCH," but no one in my family seemed as impressed with this awfulness as I was.

Think about your bad days at work.  Can you top losing your watch to poop?


  1. I thought by your "watch," you meant your shift. "No one poops on my watch!"

  2. I thought I was having a bad day, but I certainly can't top that. Next time I think I'm having a bad day I'm going to tell myself "at least no one pooped on my watch." If it had been me I would have quit on the spot, but that's just me.

  3. Nope, your bad day tops mine anytime.

    And I'm not even going to my university convocation for the same reasons as your daughter, so I can totally sympathize with her.

    I attended my high school grad only because I wanted to hang out with some friends. Otherwise they can keep it.

  4. When I was in the full throes of morning sickness I had to clean a 96-year old woman's diaper. I was a volunteer for Hospice of the Piedmont and that wasn't advertised as part of the deal. I don't know how I avoided vomiting right on the spot. The woman's husband also wanted me to help him put his pressure stockings on over and over and over.

  5. I can't beat it but one of our classmates dropped her stethoscope into a toilet while helping a c-diff + pt off said toilet. Needless to say, she bought a new stethoscope. Sorry about your watch! KF

  6. I'm with Jenn -- "at least no one pooped on my watch" will be my mantra on bad days.

    I'm SO not looking forward to the Walker Moving Up ceremony next Wednesday. And I get to do it again with the other kid next year, then the Buford ceremony the year after that, followed by Buford again the after that. Sigh...

  7. No, no I cannot.

  8. Aaah. No. Even on my worst days, there's very little danger I'll lose any possession to poop.

    If my S.O. were here, he'd shake his head at me for having written that. "Don't blame me when your office plumbing explodes next week," he'd say.