#419

First major white-out of the year (when the wind is strong enough, it snows backwards towards the heavens). I love the snow, the eery peace and solitude that comes form walking in it. My brother always said there comes an amount of snow past which it is better to walk. And walk home I will, all the way across the parking lot.

I find it sad how little kindness people expect these days. Why should you apologize for asking so many questions about the gigantic hole in your leg that won't heal? That would scare me, too. And why do I deserve special mention for escorting the patient from the derm clinic to the eye clinic for an emergency appointment because we fear an infection that will rapidly result in blindness? Isn't that what we're all supposed to do? (Of course the recognition is nice, but it's sad that it deserves notice. This should be the expectation not the exception.)

Have been in cahoots with Tom a lot lately, scheming about holiday gifts. I realize that all of us are having "miniscule holidays" this year in a desperate attempt to recover from the wedding. But I still believe that living in the "Sweet Herafter" (aka married life) doesn't mean that Tom and I can't treat people to a little surprise kindness, even if it only cost as a dollar or two. So, these posters caught my eye. (They're kind of like the "Keep Calm" posters of last year.) They're based on neighborhoods:

(Sorry, Tom, just had to.)

And I discovered they have 2 anatomy ones, the heart and the brain. Everyone has a favorite organ and I'd say mine was the lungs when I started medical school. I hated the heart and feared the brain and absolutely loathed the intestines. And then I touched a beating heart. And met a patient who had a stroke. And retracted the warm, velvety softness of bowel. I love the heart.