I took advantage of Presidents’ Day Weekend to go up to the Vineyard with my mom and her twin sister. I know, already it sounds like “Diary of a Rich Girl”. Maybe it is, but really, who would turn down a weekend on MV? Also, don’t the “Day Weekend’s” sound wrong somehow? Like Presidents’ Day and Memorial Day and Labor Day have powers to extend past normal twenty-four hour boundaries? Anyway…
Following what seems to be Caitlin’s Travel Rule #1, I tried to cram in as many modes of transportation as possible. It wasn’t “Trains, Planes, and Automobiles”, it was more. Friday I slipped out of Con Law 20 minutes early (I know, I’m a bad student – I have Friday classes) and caught a cab to National. There I got the 1:45 shuttle from DC to Boston.
The great thing about the shuttle is the very obvious class distinctions. It’s practically it’s own sociological study. I break them down into the following three groups: college students, businesspeople, and “other”, which, unlike on censuses, is not a catch-all, but a very specific group in and of itself. Each breed is very easy to spot. The college student gets on the plane with backpack in hand and music listening devise in pocket. He or she is unobtrusive enough sitting down, having traveled this route for every major holiday since freshman year. Upon sitting, books of some sort are produced for the semblance of work and/or educated entertainment, which is usually useless because they often fall asleep promptly after take-off, the result of professors struggling to fit assignments in right before the break in question.
The businesspeople are swift and direct. They travel with laptop/brief-cases and stow them in a matter of seconds. They are flying between cities for brief meetings, perhaps a one night stay-over; they are not taking-up a lot of time or space, and would appreciate it if you would do the same, thank you. The “other” category, then, is of course very difficult for them to tolerate. Others do not understand what the hurry is. Sure, one wants to get on and off the plane quickly, but you have to give them at least a minute to get together their large shopping bags of travel items and fit their just barely small enough carry-on suitcases into the overhead compartment, possibly moving your things out of the way to do so.
I must note, I am by no means a frequent traveler, nor have I never been guilty of the no “checked baggage” air-travel felony. In fact, I didn’t check any baggage on this very trip. However I say to you Others, there is such a thing as faking it. Yes, you may have children. Yes, airplanes feel small. Fine, the rest of us are in too much of a hurry. I feel your plight. But learn the rules, explore the culture, and try to adapt just a little bit. Just as one would recognize the responsibility to understand foreign laws and customs before traveling and remember not to graffiti in Singapore (we won’t make that mistake twice), it is wise to understand air travel before one attempts it. When in Rome…
Class-conflict aside, and needless to say, I made it to Boston fine. We always do. In fact, my no checked baggage move to avoid missing my bus as a result of delayed baggage claim or flights was unnecessary. I made it fine to the Bonanza Bus from Boston to Woods Hole on the Cape. Being the only one on the bus for the first 5 minutes, I was even honored by the abridged autobiography of my bus driver, a Portuguese man with an accent touched by Boston who had left his “honey” to come to the States and had just seen her after a 28-year absence. Just don’t tell her husband or his wife how much fun they had! Thankfully saved by my iPod and more passengers, the remaining 2 hours to the Cape were uneventful.
Once on the Cape, I had to wait for my mom and aunt to arrive via car. They were transporting a couch that took up the whole of the automobile. Because my mother had my ferry ticket, I had to climb over my aunt’s front seat and onto the hump in between the driver and shotgun in order to drive onto the ferry with them. Strong winds provided a fairly choppy 45-minute ferry ride, and my hump-seat was a not-so-comfortable 20-minute ride from the ferry terminal to our island home.
Being that February isn’t a very happening time in Edgartown, Martha’s Vineyard, it turned out that there wasn’t all that much to do. We ate at the usual favorite restaurants, the ones that simply can’t close in the winter; we did cute Vineyard Haven shopping; I allowed the Gordon twins (a.k.a. my mom and aunt) to generally spoil me in all possible ways. We were there for two full days of relaxing Vineyard fun.
Monday, I drove home with the twins to Philadelphia where I caught a train to DC, arriving at my dorm around midnight. Why, you may ask, did I not pay the $30 extra to get a roundtrip plane ticket and save about 8 hours? Evidently, because I am very, very stupid. That being said, it enabled me to top off my cab, plane, bus, and ferry transport story with car and train. Because they say it’s the journey that matters.
Sunday, February 27, 2005
Monday, February 14, 2005
unintentionally assisting a stalker
among my daily list of procrastination tools is checking the tracking information for my blog. so today, as i think about what justice mca_______ would decide in my con law paper assignment of smith v. smith, i took a peak at what people search for to get to my blog. the most popular entry has always seemed to be "ticklish pedicures". (does someone have a question about them, because i'll gladly answer it. my question is why so many people seem to be searching for them.) today i discovered that i seem to have stepped up in the world. the word "porn" has finally entered many a search-querie landing people on my blog, but the most significant discovery was the altavista querie of "jessie gubbins" that somehow landed someone on my sight. yes, the former chamber and fellow alto seems to have a stalker, and judging by the fact that he or she made it to my blog, it is a persistant stalker, because i certainly do not appear first on the list of altavista sites pertaining to that name. also, why altavista? what's up with that? so anyway, jessie, i am sorry that somehow my blog has aided someone's search for you. you know that if you ever have to go into hiding, i apparently am of no use.
Sunday, February 13, 2005
Welcome back to Georgetown! That'll be $20,000 and a small intestinal pouch
my rediscovery of american health systems
fine! i give up! i cave under the pressure of the demanding masses [read: one brit-residing monica] and update once more. to bring rapidly up to date with my life, i returned from chile, i hit up philly, i had christmas with chileans chillin’ states-side (in DC to be exact), i vineyard-ed, i took new hampshire by storm with my stunning skiing skills courtesy of tim’s family’s ski house, i introduced amy to philly, and then we stormed georgetown with stunning force.
so that was me, just another one of the throngs of georgetown students coming back from being abroad and moaning about how hard it is to re-integrate into a culture, etc, etc. reverse culture shock aside, things were going rather well, i was happy to be back, liked my classes, hated my work, the usual.
two wednesdays ago, in the middle of just one of those liked classes, balkan politics at 8:50 to be exact, i began experiencing sharp abdominal pains, as i would later tell a million and a half doctors, nurses, residents, and med students throughout the georgetown health systems.
i went home and lied down, thinking a few episodes of alias and some rest would surely clear up whatever was ailing me, just in time to place me in con law at 11:40. wrong! by 1:20 pm, i conceded partial defeat, and made my way to the student health center, which had so kindly told me over the phone that i would have to wait a very long time if i chose to be seen today.
1:35 – i arrive in the shc
1:40 – i put my head between my legs and try to concentrate on not concentrating on pain
1:45 – i realize head between legs tactic isn’t working and try head dangling eerily back method
1:50 – everyone surrounding me in the waiting room has disappeared, and i approach the woman at the desk who told me to take a seat and ask if i should, perhaps, fill out some paperwork. ma’am, i respect the fact that this is not a pleasant job to do, however we are very sick people. we are not trying to be unpleasant; this frown is not meant to be antagonistic towards you, but is hard to remove because MY ABDOMEN IS ON FIRE! thank you for your assistance.
1:55 – i finish aforementioned paperwork
2:00 – i am seen by the nurse the above referenced woman told me over the phone would be able to see me… because the doctors are completely busy today. no one but the nurse would be able to see me, but if i still wanted to come in, that was fine, i’d just have to wait a long while…
2:04 – the nurse says the doctor will be right with me
so the doctor didn’t think it was appendicitis, but i was tender on the right side of my belly, so she was going to send me across the parking lot for a ct scan at the hospital. i arrived there at about 2:30 and waited until 5 or 5:30, drinking radio-active milky stuff and making conversation with a man surprisingly upbeat for a) having cancer and b) having just lost his wife to cancer. this new friend of mine tried to get the technicians to take me first, seeing that i, by this time, was in a terrible amount of pain, but they would hear nothing of his kindness and saw him first. not that i’m complaining. the thing tearing my insides apart came out that night; my pain was not long-lasting.
as this update is already far too detail heavy, i will spare you the grim details of a ct scan. needless to say, when one’s appendix is inflamed, you’re already in enough pain without them expanding your large intestine with fluid. fun.
after that great experience, i waited outside while some young resident looked at my scan. my guess is that it was his first appendicitis, from my two, short conversations with him.
resident: where’s your doctor?
me: pennsylvania.
res: what? who sent you here?
me: oh, the student health center.
res: okay… well… i’m going to have to look at this more, and call her. and look with my colleague. can you, um, wait here?
me: yeah, sure.
res: [obviously stressed] okay.
resident: [appearing again]: well… after looking at the scan… and talking with your doctor… i’m afraid it’s your appendix.
me: [relieved that i finally knew what the hell was biting my abdomen to pieces] okay.
res: so, um, you’ll go to the emergency room?
me: (are you asking me if i will go to the er, or are you just unsure of the advice you’re giving me?) yeah, can you tell me how to get there?
res: oh! i’ll walk you there!
me: (great, something you’re sure of.)
obviously, parenthetical remarks are thoughts. i was very appreciative of the assistance provided me at radiology and didn’t want to freak him out any more.
i went to the er, called my mom, who left me with “caitie? what do you mean you’re just going to get your appendix out? what do you mean you don’t know who the surgeon
will be? you know, there are bad doctors out there, caitie,” and called tim, who left me with “if there’s anything i can do, let me know.”
after a bit of a wait in the er, i was given a bed and a young nurse/nursing student teased me for being a “real bleeder” as a large pool of red appeared on the sheets beneath my arm and she desperately tried to get some of my blood into one of the tubes for tests.
i told hordes of med students what was wrong with me, when it had started, and let them push around my belly to see me wince. i met my surgeons and told them my mom wanted them to call her (they reported back to me that she was on her way down to spend the night with me – my mom may freak out easily, but at least she takes good care of me). my surgeon went home for dinner since we weren’t going to get an OR before then. i met the really hot med student that was going to be working with him. because fate thought it would be good for me to be attracted to people while in a de-generizing hospital gown and in pain.
mercifully, at around 8:30 pm, i passed out with the pain. right before surgery, they gave me some narcotics to stop me from crying. when your appendix is inflamed, it’s not pleasant. it’s hard for you to tell it’s your appendix, because it makes your whole stomach a raging mush of sickness and pain. so i put aside all facades of strength i have and just cried.
at around 9:30 or 10:00, they wheeled me into the OR, and 2 hours, three small scars, and the aid of some cameras later, i lost my appendix.
my mom stayed the night in the hospital with me, which was a godsend. my mother is a nurse practitioner. given the nursing shortage, it’s always nice to have one’s own personal nurse with the added benefit of being a crazed mother who will demand pain meds for you. another nice thing is to live close to where you get the surgery done. instead of leaving me to recuperate with my randomly assigned roommate (who is very nice, but certainly not familiar to me), i got to go home to the comfort of my (and jackie’s – long story) bed. which is where i spent most of the weekend.
i came back to gtown sunday night, just in time for the super bowl, and found that tim had kindly taken care of everything i asked him too. the problem with getting surgery is that, in hospitals, you can’t use your cell phone. so if you need anything, you’re forced to [gasp!] remember numbers. you also have to make local phone calls. what luck, then, that i have ordered delivery chinese to tim’s cell phone about a million times AND that tim is cool enough to have a 202 number. for the first time, i am ashamed of my 610, main-line-philly area code. i hang my head. i had called tim from the hospital to take care of a few things for me (including calling my chilean friends living in DC to tell them i couldn’t make it to the bars the night after my appendicitis. tim enlisted jeff’s spanish-speaking help, and i am eternally grateful to both of them.)
at this point, i’m just trying to play catch-up. sleeping for five days isn’t a great way to keep up with work. the 8 page con law paper i have for tomorrow is going well so far, but does anyone want to talk to me a bit about great expectations…
fine! i give up! i cave under the pressure of the demanding masses [read: one brit-residing monica] and update once more. to bring rapidly up to date with my life, i returned from chile, i hit up philly, i had christmas with chileans chillin’ states-side (in DC to be exact), i vineyard-ed, i took new hampshire by storm with my stunning skiing skills courtesy of tim’s family’s ski house, i introduced amy to philly, and then we stormed georgetown with stunning force.
so that was me, just another one of the throngs of georgetown students coming back from being abroad and moaning about how hard it is to re-integrate into a culture, etc, etc. reverse culture shock aside, things were going rather well, i was happy to be back, liked my classes, hated my work, the usual.
two wednesdays ago, in the middle of just one of those liked classes, balkan politics at 8:50 to be exact, i began experiencing sharp abdominal pains, as i would later tell a million and a half doctors, nurses, residents, and med students throughout the georgetown health systems.
i went home and lied down, thinking a few episodes of alias and some rest would surely clear up whatever was ailing me, just in time to place me in con law at 11:40. wrong! by 1:20 pm, i conceded partial defeat, and made my way to the student health center, which had so kindly told me over the phone that i would have to wait a very long time if i chose to be seen today.
1:35 – i arrive in the shc
1:40 – i put my head between my legs and try to concentrate on not concentrating on pain
1:45 – i realize head between legs tactic isn’t working and try head dangling eerily back method
1:50 – everyone surrounding me in the waiting room has disappeared, and i approach the woman at the desk who told me to take a seat and ask if i should, perhaps, fill out some paperwork. ma’am, i respect the fact that this is not a pleasant job to do, however we are very sick people. we are not trying to be unpleasant; this frown is not meant to be antagonistic towards you, but is hard to remove because MY ABDOMEN IS ON FIRE! thank you for your assistance.
1:55 – i finish aforementioned paperwork
2:00 – i am seen by the nurse the above referenced woman told me over the phone would be able to see me… because the doctors are completely busy today. no one but the nurse would be able to see me, but if i still wanted to come in, that was fine, i’d just have to wait a long while…
2:04 – the nurse says the doctor will be right with me
so the doctor didn’t think it was appendicitis, but i was tender on the right side of my belly, so she was going to send me across the parking lot for a ct scan at the hospital. i arrived there at about 2:30 and waited until 5 or 5:30, drinking radio-active milky stuff and making conversation with a man surprisingly upbeat for a) having cancer and b) having just lost his wife to cancer. this new friend of mine tried to get the technicians to take me first, seeing that i, by this time, was in a terrible amount of pain, but they would hear nothing of his kindness and saw him first. not that i’m complaining. the thing tearing my insides apart came out that night; my pain was not long-lasting.
as this update is already far too detail heavy, i will spare you the grim details of a ct scan. needless to say, when one’s appendix is inflamed, you’re already in enough pain without them expanding your large intestine with fluid. fun.
after that great experience, i waited outside while some young resident looked at my scan. my guess is that it was his first appendicitis, from my two, short conversations with him.
resident: where’s your doctor?
me: pennsylvania.
res: what? who sent you here?
me: oh, the student health center.
res: okay… well… i’m going to have to look at this more, and call her. and look with my colleague. can you, um, wait here?
me: yeah, sure.
res: [obviously stressed] okay.
resident: [appearing again]: well… after looking at the scan… and talking with your doctor… i’m afraid it’s your appendix.
me: [relieved that i finally knew what the hell was biting my abdomen to pieces] okay.
res: so, um, you’ll go to the emergency room?
me: (are you asking me if i will go to the er, or are you just unsure of the advice you’re giving me?) yeah, can you tell me how to get there?
res: oh! i’ll walk you there!
me: (great, something you’re sure of.)
obviously, parenthetical remarks are thoughts. i was very appreciative of the assistance provided me at radiology and didn’t want to freak him out any more.
i went to the er, called my mom, who left me with “caitie? what do you mean you’re just going to get your appendix out? what do you mean you don’t know who the surgeon
will be? you know, there are bad doctors out there, caitie,” and called tim, who left me with “if there’s anything i can do, let me know.”
after a bit of a wait in the er, i was given a bed and a young nurse/nursing student teased me for being a “real bleeder” as a large pool of red appeared on the sheets beneath my arm and she desperately tried to get some of my blood into one of the tubes for tests.
i told hordes of med students what was wrong with me, when it had started, and let them push around my belly to see me wince. i met my surgeons and told them my mom wanted them to call her (they reported back to me that she was on her way down to spend the night with me – my mom may freak out easily, but at least she takes good care of me). my surgeon went home for dinner since we weren’t going to get an OR before then. i met the really hot med student that was going to be working with him. because fate thought it would be good for me to be attracted to people while in a de-generizing hospital gown and in pain.
mercifully, at around 8:30 pm, i passed out with the pain. right before surgery, they gave me some narcotics to stop me from crying. when your appendix is inflamed, it’s not pleasant. it’s hard for you to tell it’s your appendix, because it makes your whole stomach a raging mush of sickness and pain. so i put aside all facades of strength i have and just cried.
at around 9:30 or 10:00, they wheeled me into the OR, and 2 hours, three small scars, and the aid of some cameras later, i lost my appendix.
my mom stayed the night in the hospital with me, which was a godsend. my mother is a nurse practitioner. given the nursing shortage, it’s always nice to have one’s own personal nurse with the added benefit of being a crazed mother who will demand pain meds for you. another nice thing is to live close to where you get the surgery done. instead of leaving me to recuperate with my randomly assigned roommate (who is very nice, but certainly not familiar to me), i got to go home to the comfort of my (and jackie’s – long story) bed. which is where i spent most of the weekend.
i came back to gtown sunday night, just in time for the super bowl, and found that tim had kindly taken care of everything i asked him too. the problem with getting surgery is that, in hospitals, you can’t use your cell phone. so if you need anything, you’re forced to [gasp!] remember numbers. you also have to make local phone calls. what luck, then, that i have ordered delivery chinese to tim’s cell phone about a million times AND that tim is cool enough to have a 202 number. for the first time, i am ashamed of my 610, main-line-philly area code. i hang my head. i had called tim from the hospital to take care of a few things for me (including calling my chilean friends living in DC to tell them i couldn’t make it to the bars the night after my appendicitis. tim enlisted jeff’s spanish-speaking help, and i am eternally grateful to both of them.)
at this point, i’m just trying to play catch-up. sleeping for five days isn’t a great way to keep up with work. the 8 page con law paper i have for tomorrow is going well so far, but does anyone want to talk to me a bit about great expectations…
