this beat was bubblegum, so I had to chew it

On a lighter note:

• The ICU nurses were huddled together near the nursing station last week in the afternoon. They saw me coming, and one of the more seasoned nurses beckoned me to them and said, "maybe you'll know," which I immediately took with a grain of salt, because the ICU nurses usually know more about everything in the ICU as compared to the residents. Especially the ones with some experience. But still, I figured I would give it my best shot. She asked me, maintaining a grave expression on her face the entire time, "can you teach me how to dougie?" It's ludicrous moments like that which make inpatient medicine a magical place.
• An elderly woman came to clinic for the first time. She had not seen a doctor in five years, she lives alone, she has no children. In getting to know her, I asked her what she did for exercise. She said, "not much, but when I feel like I'm too lazy, I put on a CD." I asked her if it was an exercise CD. She said, "No! I just put on a CD and dance alone in my apartment until I'm tired!" and burst into giggles like a 15-year old would. I really hope I'm like that when I'm her age.

There's some more ominous stuff going on. It's the balance of things. I've been waiting for something to disrupt my contentment, and here it is. But it's just a little rumble, not a true earthquake, not anything that will cause a break. At least that's what I tell myself, and if I tell myself enough, it might turn out to be true.