Classes started yesterday and I'm already behind, even though I stayed up late last night grading. How did this happen?
I suspect my happy days of blogging every single morning are at an end. (Yeah, I know: I can see you blogging veterans rolling your eyes. Everyone told me this would happen.)
Part of the pressure is that Gary and I going away this weekend -- the last getaway before 24/7 grading starts in earnest -- and I need to get things done so I'll be able to leave. The getaway weekend also means that I won't get to the ER this week, since I've switched shifts to Sunday.
I'm happy to be getting away, but I miss the hospital when I'm on vacation.
Last March, we spent spring break with friends in Maui; it was glorious, and we're going again this year. On the evening when I would have been in the ER, we were at a very fancy restaurant, sitting on a terrace overlooking the Pacific, having an exquisite meal. We all loved it. But I found myself calculating the time difference, figuring out where I would have been in my hospital shift, wondering what was happening.
I also get homesick when I'm sick and can't go to the hospital. ("Oh no! I'm too sick to go to the ER!")
Last April, I threw my back out; I was on campus, moving from one class to another, and suddenly could barely move at all. I could neither stand up straight nor bend over. I hobbled to my grad seminar, where one student gave me Advil and another, after the three-hour-plus class, carried my books to my car for me. The next day I went to see my doctor, who put me on muscle relaxants and ordered me to rest my back for at least three days.
"Oh," I said, lying contorted in agony on her examining table. "So I guess that means I can't do my ER shift tonight?"
She gave me an amazed look. "No! Absolutely not!"
I'm a strange little creature. But then, you all knew that.