Tuesday, November 14, 2006
I Went On A Date
Considering she doesn't know about this blog, I haven't asked her if she wants me to use her real name. For now, let's just call her Martial Art Girl (MAG). Right away, many of you may have picked up on part of my attraction to her. I'm unfamiliar with her particular art. The style itself isn't really important. I just like the idea of a chick who knows how to throw a punch.
Random drama seems drawn to me like a closeted frat boy is drawn to touch football in the backyard on a warm summer night when the Bud Lite keg is floating. (I'll give you all a moment to conjure that image. Here's a detail you might have missed. He always wants to play shirts vs. skins, and he's the first to disrobe.) Anyway, the drama fairy made an appearance this evening. We had just been seated a few minutes before. While deciding on drinks and looking at the menu, the seater walks into the room and says to a server, "Do you know if there is a doctor here? I think this guy is having a heart attack." MAG didn't heart this, so she was a little confused when she saw me stand up and follow the seater out of the room saying, "Hey! Where is this guy?" I was directed toward a woman standing over a seated man who looked about 70. I introduced myself as a 4th-year medical student. Consider it my way of saying, "I may not know shit, but it looks like I'm your only option, fella." I then started asking questions that seemed important.
"What's going on?"
"How long?"
(At this point, I asked the woman to call 911. She had already called.)
"Any chest pain?"
"Can you breath?"
"Did you fall out or have you been awake the whole time?"
"Any numbness or tingling?"
(I like to keep things simple at the beginning of every relationship.)
His answers led me to the belief that he wasn't having a heart attack. It sounded more like some flavor of stroke. Soon thereafter, EMS arrived. I told them what I learned and asked, "He's yours now, right?" They agreed. The woman thanked me, and I went back to my date. I apologized and tried to make small talk, but I kept looking back at the guy. It seemed to take forever to get him on the stretcher. When they finally rolled him out, I heard myself say, "Why aren't they giving him oxygen?" Then I noticed that MAG was giving me a strange smile.
MAG -- "You can't shut it off, can you?"
me -- (softly and almost apologetically) "No."
She then described a medic friend of hers who acted the same way when they were hanging out and found themselves in a similar situation. She laughed it off. I apologized again, and we changed the subject.
She knew I had worked the day before and spent the entire previous night on call at the hospital, getting only about 3 hours of sleep before working 8 more busy hours that morning and afternoon. What she didn't know was that about 10 hours before we met, one of our patients coded. We went to work . . . shocks, drugs, a tube down his throat and chest compressions. He died. After the ambulance left with the guy from the restaurant, I was annoyed. I'm proud of what I do, but I didn't want MAG to see me as JUST a doctor or medical student or whatever. I was on a date with a very cool chick. I was done taking care of people that day. This was MY time, dammit! However, she was right. I had to do something.
The rest of the dinner was without incident.
Later, we had a few drinks and played pool and darts. There was much flirting in both word and action. I let her take the lead since I didn't know her boundaries. Afterward, we went back to John and Heather's place (who were wonderful enough to, once again, put me up for the night) and played games. I had a great time, and I've heard that she did as well. Because of our busy schedules, I haven't spoken to her since that night. She lives 2 hours from me, but because we share several friends, I'm sure I'll see her, again. Hopefully, it will be as her date, not as a distant pal.
***addendum***
BTW, this is my 250th post.
> |
Random drama seems drawn to me like a closeted frat boy is drawn to touch football in the backyard on a warm summer night when the Bud Lite keg is floating. (I'll give you all a moment to conjure that image. Here's a detail you might have missed. He always wants to play shirts vs. skins, and he's the first to disrobe.) Anyway, the drama fairy made an appearance this evening. We had just been seated a few minutes before. While deciding on drinks and looking at the menu, the seater walks into the room and says to a server, "Do you know if there is a doctor here? I think this guy is having a heart attack." MAG didn't heart this, so she was a little confused when she saw me stand up and follow the seater out of the room saying, "Hey! Where is this guy?" I was directed toward a woman standing over a seated man who looked about 70. I introduced myself as a 4th-year medical student. Consider it my way of saying, "I may not know shit, but it looks like I'm your only option, fella." I then started asking questions that seemed important.
"What's going on?"
"How long?"
(At this point, I asked the woman to call 911. She had already called.)
"Any chest pain?"
"Can you breath?"
"Did you fall out or have you been awake the whole time?"
"Any numbness or tingling?"
(I like to keep things simple at the beginning of every relationship.)
His answers led me to the belief that he wasn't having a heart attack. It sounded more like some flavor of stroke. Soon thereafter, EMS arrived. I told them what I learned and asked, "He's yours now, right?" They agreed. The woman thanked me, and I went back to my date. I apologized and tried to make small talk, but I kept looking back at the guy. It seemed to take forever to get him on the stretcher. When they finally rolled him out, I heard myself say, "Why aren't they giving him oxygen?" Then I noticed that MAG was giving me a strange smile.
MAG -- "You can't shut it off, can you?"
me -- (softly and almost apologetically) "No."
She then described a medic friend of hers who acted the same way when they were hanging out and found themselves in a similar situation. She laughed it off. I apologized again, and we changed the subject.
She knew I had worked the day before and spent the entire previous night on call at the hospital, getting only about 3 hours of sleep before working 8 more busy hours that morning and afternoon. What she didn't know was that about 10 hours before we met, one of our patients coded. We went to work . . . shocks, drugs, a tube down his throat and chest compressions. He died. After the ambulance left with the guy from the restaurant, I was annoyed. I'm proud of what I do, but I didn't want MAG to see me as JUST a doctor or medical student or whatever. I was on a date with a very cool chick. I was done taking care of people that day. This was MY time, dammit! However, she was right. I had to do something.
The rest of the dinner was without incident.
Later, we had a few drinks and played pool and darts. There was much flirting in both word and action. I let her take the lead since I didn't know her boundaries. Afterward, we went back to John and Heather's place (who were wonderful enough to, once again, put me up for the night) and played games. I had a great time, and I've heard that she did as well. Because of our busy schedules, I haven't spoken to her since that night. She lives 2 hours from me, but because we share several friends, I'm sure I'll see her, again. Hopefully, it will be as her date, not as a distant pal.
***addendum***
BTW, this is my 250th post.
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