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Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in
docjules' LiveJournal:
| Tuesday, August 4th, 2009 | | 10:14 pm |
Jack and Zoe on the paranormal
While driving somwhere or other, I glanced at the twins in the rearview mirror and saw Jack sitting with his hands clasped resolutely over his ears. When I asked what he was doing, he explained, "I don't want a ghost to fix my ears." I asked a few questions to make sure I had heard this correctly. Strangely enough, I had.
A few days later, while entering a public restroom, Zoe announced loudly and abruptly "Ghosts eat your brains." Again, this wa,s so unexpected that a few clarifying questions were needed. However, she remained firm in her convictions, and repeated loudly, "Mommy, ghosts eat your brains!" To which the only natural response was, "No, Honey, that's zombies."
| | Wednesday, July 22nd, 2009 | | 2:00 am |
Baby smackdowns
The scene: Leslie holding Zoe "like a baby," meaning she's lying horizontally across his arms. Jack comes to investigate, looks skeptically at them. Leslie: Jack, do you see my baby? Isn't she a pretty baby? Jack (with great disdain): Your baby is like a bookshelf. Also, straight out of Readers' Digest, he came out with the following dinner table zinger one night with the in-laws: Me: Zoe, what kind of animal would you like to be? Zoe: A penguin! Me: What about you, Jack? What kind of animal would you like to be? Jack: I wanna be a donkey, just like Daddy!!! I do not make these things up. | | Tuesday, June 10th, 2008 | | 1:06 pm |
| | Friday, June 6th, 2008 | | 10:33 am |
Sunblocked
So one of the reasons I don't blog much is that I'm lazy. But another is that I don't want to be the perpetrator of yet another Mommy Blog. But the only way I can think to recover from the last hour of my life is to share it with the world, so here goes. On this gray, gloomy, overcast morning, I take Jack and Zoe to daycare. Immediately after we arrive, the teacher explains that they are going outside to play - this is because of the heat. On hot days, they are required to be inside from 10am -4pm, so they play on the playground early in the morning. She asks me if I've already applied sunblock to them. I cock my head, spaniel-style, and say, "No...it's not sunny." She assures me that she is not allowed to take the children out without sunblock, and asks if I will apply some now. My first thought is that they are my children, and she can bloody well take them out without sunblock if I don't think they need any, but I don't want to be one of Those Parents, so I say with a smile, "Of course!" Jack more or less alllows me to smear the goo on most of him, so we reach an early truce. Zoe has just entered the Independent Stage, wherein she will accept no help from any living creature in solving problems of any complexity, from putting on pants to quantum physics. So when I approach her with the sunblock, she utters the three fateful words: "I do it!" Now clearly a two year old let loose with sunblock is not going to be a pretty sight, so I explain that mommy will have to help. She doesn't like this, and runs away. Which results in me chasing her around the room periodically getting close enough to swipe at her with a handful of sunblock. Which results in her becoming more and more like a greased pig by the moment, with all the hilarious consequences you'd expect. Then I have an idea: I will give her her very own handful of sunblock to apply as she wishes. This will buy her complicity in my plan to smear sunblock on the rest of her, and will serve the equally important purpose of making me look like a reasonable parent. Because right now, I look like some yokel down at the county fair trying his ass off to catch a greased pig. So I coax her over by waving the bottle of sunblock in a tantalizing manner. When she gets in range, I give her a nice big glob of sunblock in her hand. Which she proceeds to smear copiously into her left eye. So now the greased pig is squealing to beat the band, and the yokel has a grip on it but absolutely no idea what to do. Now I am, in fact, a doctor. An emergency physician at that. So I feel I should do something, however stupid. I grab a handful of paper towels and wipe away the excess sunblock that is now dripping down Zoe's face. I exhort her (fruitlessly) not to rub her eye. I take her to the bathroom to wash her hands and face. This results in both of us getting extremely wet and hysterical without actually removing any sunblock. Mommy had to go and buy the good stuff, and this shit is TRULY waterproof. And soap proof. There must be some industrial solvent that will get it off, but I don't have time to figure that out now. The screaming is truly piercing. Teachers are coming in from other classrooms to "help" (i.e., call child protective services immediately after taking incriminating photos with their cell phones). I need to get out. So I try to take her outside with her class, hoping that she will be distracted into forgetting the SPF50 that is now burning into her cornea. This does not distract her in the least, although it does add sand and wood chips to the slurry of Coppertone, tears, and mucus that is now thickly encrusting us both. She glares resentfully at me, but every time I try to put her down or hand her off to anyone else, she clutches frantically at my hair and clothing, shrieking in her best Linda Blair impersonation. It is now 10am and time for the kids to go back inside. The sun has not, at any point in this adventure, come out for even a moment. Zoe has cuddled against me and is mewling quietly while grinding her eyeball into my clavicle. I still can't put her down. I contemplate just taking her back home, where we can lie on the couch together and cry and rub our eyes together. But I am a dedicated professional (after all, I have blogging to do), so I do what any postmodern parent would. I let a teacher get a firm grip on her, I wrench her free of my hair and clothing, tell her firmly that I love her, and leave. I am now going to begin my biomedical research career, in which I will make millions developing a colorless, tasteless, ingestible sunblock. | | Monday, May 12th, 2008 | | 11:54 am |
My hysterical pregnancy
In unrelated news, I need ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=88.8) plantastic to have her baby. I've had horrible abdominal pain all weekend, such that I've been unable to do anything useful except slog through my shifts at work then come home and moan. At first I thought it was the usual crampy nonsense, but it got worse and worse until yesterday I was walking all hunched over and wincing with every step. So my colleague persuaded me to register as a patient and get a CT scan of my abdomen - which I did and there's not a damned thing wrong with me. So the only logical conclusion is that I'm having sympathy labor for plantastic, and if she would just get the baby out, we'd both feel a whole lot better. Speaking of motherhood, I have yet another affirmation that I am the luckiest mother alive. In addition to having amazing children, I have a husband and friends who love me SO MUCH that they have conspired to take me to NY to see Macbeth on Broadway, starring Patrick Stewart as said tragic antihero. The only slightly creepy part is Leslie's insistence that Jonathan Frakes is playing Banquo. But despite the unsettling Star Trek reference, I can't thank Leslie enough for getting tickets, and give mad props to Pam, lala_lisa, and overheardgirl for offering all day marathon babysitting services. Love you all!! Hopefully I'll be able to walk normally by then. | | 11:47 am |
Why I Love My Job
So this guy came in last night shot in the butt. It was basically through and through the glute muscle, didn't even enter the pelvis. No injury to speak of - lucky bastard. When I explain this to him, he was incredulous. "You mean that bullet didn't hit NOTHING? I thought when you got shot people DIED and shit. And there ain't NOTHING wrong with me?" "No - you're very lucky," I reply. "Of course, it's better not to get shot at all, but if you have to get shot, this is a pretty good outcome." "Well I'm 'a go out and tell the world. I'm gonna be like an ambassador and shit. I'm 'a go tell people 'If you niggaz gotta be shootin someone, shoot him in the ass. Now you shouldn't be shooting nobody at all, but if you gotta shoot someone, shoot him in the ass. Cuz it really ain't so bad! Thanks Doc!!" | | Wednesday, May 7th, 2008 | | 5:40 pm |
I get up in the morning and go to work EVERY FREAKING DAY. And (except right now), I pretty much work most of the time that I'm there. So why does my list of crap to do get longer and longer? Shouldn't it get shorter? Or reach some kind of steady state? I suspect that it's all the pesky life-saving. If it weren't for all those "patients" and their "diseases" what with the "heart stopping" and "lungs full of fluid" and crap, I could really get stuff done. | | Monday, May 5th, 2008 | | 2:41 pm |
| | Thursday, May 25th, 2006 | | 11:33 am |
Team Atomic Rocks!!!!
Seeing as I expended ALL available energy to slog my way through the Ride for the Feast last weekend, my body became an unguarded castle, open to hostile invaders. At least that's my explanation for the 103 fever I developed on Tuesday, which kept me flat on my back until this morning. So sorry for the delay - but now I'm fully upright and ready to tell my tale! Note: I didn't include photos - this is way too long already - so for pictures, go to my Flickr site: http://www.flickr.com/photos/julesjung/5/19 - Arrived in Rehoboth. Am luckiest girl ever, since I have husband and babies by my side. Or more accurately, baby Jack strapped to my body, baby Zoe in front of me in a stroller, and husband Leslie trailing behind me with all my crap. Like I said, luckiest girl ever! Enjoyed the pre-ride luau, although I must be honest with my friends at moveable feast: pasta salad and roast beef are not traditional luau foods. But who am I to be a purist? As long as I have carbs, I'm happy. And when some of those carbs come in the form of Guiness, I'm REALLY happy! After the luau, Leslie and the babies go across the street to the "Sea Esta" Motel (sea puns = one of man's most exalted humor forms. Don't believe me? I'll sea you in hell!). I stay behind at the Quality Inn, where I am supposed to get my first full night of sleep in two months. 5/20 - Woke up 5:30, slept almost not at all. Oh well. Breakfast = tiny bagels and cheerios. Bike is ready, body is ready, mind is FREAKING OUT. But we take off, and somehow it all becomes okay. Some memories: Mile 7 - Joey spots sign that says "boathole." We giggle for three miles. Mile 12 - Discuss my Jan Ullrich obsession with ride marshall Kornell, who coicidentally works with Leslie in our tiny tiny world. 2006 WILL be Jan's big year! Mark my words... Mile 20 - First pitstop, where we see Lisa's glowing face peeking out from under a cowboy hat adorned with flames. Lisa = angel of hope, patron saint of tired cyclists, who appears as a vision at pitstops the world over, always wearing a different novelty hat! Of course, I don't fully appreciate her yet, since I'm not tired. In fact, I'm actually worrying that the whole thing is going to be anticlimactic because it's TOO EASY! Hah!!! Mile 22 - Watch Becky fade into the distance. When did she get so fast? When did she grow those legs?? I remember having to slow down for her back in the early days, and now I can't keep up. I beam with pride as she vanishes into her trail of smoke. Mile 35 - Ride with Chris, talk about...what else? Bears! Chris doesn't like wildlife ("except dogs and cats"). So I seize the moment to tell him my Yellowstone bear story (which I won't recount here - just assume it ends with me heriocally fighting off the bear). He tells me about the Library's new "Sneaks the Cat" mascot suit. It has a fan in the head. I love Chris! Mile 50 - Arrive in Seaford at the lunch stop, where I meet Leslie and the babies!!! I feed Zoe, snuggle with Jack, kiss Leslie, and almost entirely forget to eat. Oops - I'll be regretting that soon enough. But seeing my family there on the road gives me more strength than all the Powerbars on earth. I ride out in the full knowledge that I am the happiest and luckiest rider in the group. The winds of love fill my sails. Mile 51 - Yeah, about those winds....the winds of love are no match for the winds of ass-kicking, which are blowing straight into my face at 22mph. I've never even imagined wind like this. It's like riding up a hill...one long, painful, 50 mile hill. Yikes! Mile 52 - I've decided to "pace myself, " a choice which has once again left me in Becky's dust. This time Chris has gone with her. I turn to talk to Joey and he's nowhere to be seen. No wait - that tiny speck a mile back - that's him! I circle back and we ride together. The wind hurts, so we tell stories to try to forget our pain. I talk about the farm my mom grew up on and the manic hippie I met on my way home from Russia. He talks about crazy stuff that happened at the Ottobar last week. This is the good part, and it's the only thing keeping me moving. The bad part is that we are grinding down to a slower and slower pace, and may not reach Chesapeake college until next Tuesday. Two other guys have gotten sagged, and the sweep van is circling us like a vulture. Mile 70 - We're the last to reach the mini-pitstop, and everyone else has gone on. Same pain, different strategies: Joey decides to rest a bit, I refill water and ride on. I'm like a shark: if I stop swimming, I'll die. Mile 72 - I'm alone now, on a long straight road through a huge expanse of wheatfield. This is the only scenery I'll see for the next hour. I freakin' HATE wheat. I've picked up my pace quite a bit, but the wind is blowing so hard that if I stop pedaling even long enough to take a drink of water, I grind to a halt. Mile 75 - I'm still alone, playing little games with my odometer: "If I can just get to mile 76, I'll be all right. Okay, 75.1, that's 10% of the way there...75.12, that's 20% of the way to 75.2...that will be 20% of the way to 76...." You can see that my mind is gradually coming unravelled. Mile 80 - I haven't seen a living soul since I left Joey at the mini-pitstop. Where the hell is everyone? Where is the sweep van? Where are the cars? Has the world ended? That's it! I'm trapped alone in this post-apocalyptic wheatfield, the last person on earth. Riding my bike through this infernal devil-wind in utter solitude, never to see another living being again. Oh well. If I can just get to mile 81, I'll be okay. 80.1, that's 10% of the way there... Mile 82 - The last pitstop, and it turns out the world hasn't ended!!! I've NEVER been happier to see other people in my life. Becky and Chris are there with smiles and cheers and Powerbars, and Saint Lisa's halo is positively glowing! And it bears a strange resemblance to a pirate hat. I consume many snacks - who knew Fritos were so good?? Joey arrives - needs a break, will meet us at the last mini-pit. Then we take off into the wind. I beg my team never to leave me again. Mile 85 - Turns out I didn't need to beg - I hadn't been as far behind everyone else as I'd thought. Everyone was slowed down by the wind, and there is a large group riding more or less together. Ah, I've never felt such love for my fellow man!! Mile 92 - We reach the last mini-pit, and Joey rejoins us - Team Atomic rides again!! I see pain in Becky's face, and in my delirious state I say inane things to try to cheer her up. She makes quizzical faces and moans. I think she likes me! But soon I run out of fun, and I'm back to the odometer game - the difference now is that I KNOW I'll make it. Mile 101 - The endpoint is in sight, and all the remaining riders have congregated at the last stoplight so we can ride in, triumphant, together. But where's Joey? He's fallen behind and I was too tired to notice. Everyone outside of the team wants to go ahead and get it over with, but we want Joey! The group is about to give up and take off when he rides like a bat out of hell around the corner. Joey heroic!! Woohoo!!! Mile 102.6 - We ride into Chesapeake College to deafening cheers. Tears, cheers, pictures, and a bad cellphone connection to Leslie and the babies. I hug Becky - my friend, my confidante, my training partner, the woman who almost stopped being my friend the first time I tricked her into riding a mile uphill, who just now rode 102 miles through the winds of hell. I hug Joey - my inspiration, the veteran rider who made me believe that this entire crazy endeavor was possible in the first place, not just for elite athletes, but for normal people with jobs and lives. And I warn Chris - my new friend and beloved teammate - that I'm going to hug him just like a bear, then I do! That evening we eat outside, and everything tastes like the best thing ever. We laugh, we talk about Fritos - the best snack food ever. We take the best showers ever. Our team is part of the wild crowd - we hang out with some other riders and supporters, we each drink one beer and stay up until 10:20. As our compatriot Eric put it, "tonight we're gonna party like it's 1959." Then we go to sleep on the floor of the gym - you guessed it - the best gym floor ever. 5/21 - We sleep in until 6:30, eat massive amounts of bacon for breakfast, board buses to get ourselves safely over the Bay Bridge to Sandy Point State Park. I'm in denial about getting back on my bike today. Kornell tells us that the best part of this morning is watching everyone's faces as they put their butts back on their saddles for the first time. Hoodaddy! Mile 0 - Actually, it's not as bad as I'd feared. We ride out as a group, feeling strong. Mile 1 - Holy crap, there are HILLS out here! Mile 3 - I'm riding with Becky, Chris and Joey are a little way back. We're slogging up a hill, and I turn to talk to her. She's way behind me, so I slow down. Suddenly, my quads are on fire and my calves are locking up. I'm feeling way too much burn to do this - if I'm going to get through this, it's gotta be quick. Like a field amputation. So I blow a kiss to Becky, and I'm on my own again. Mile 14 - I show up at the first pitstop in record time, greeted by smiling Saint Lisa, feeling pretty good. I hang around long enough to make sure that the rest of the team is okay: Joey and Chris are in an looking strong, Becky is taking a break. I'm off - keep swimming, shark... Mile 29 - Many big scary hills later, I find myself in Carroll park, where I'm greeted by Becky, Lisa, and...the Easter Bunny? It's not a hallucination, i'ts a plushie! We're more or less done, so we hang out, eat snacks, put on our official ride shirts and Mardi Gras beads. Joey and Chris ride in looking great - the team's all here!! We did it!!! Mile 31 - The whole group rides back to Moveable Feast HQ together, all wearing our red shirts, all looking great. There is a crowd of maybe 100 people in front of the church cheering for us, but it feels like we're rock stars walking into a stadium full of screaming fans. I'm now crying too hard to see, trying not to kill anyone as I ride through the crowd to the double stroller I've spotted on the far side. Leslie hands me Zoe, who looks bewildered as I kiss her again and again. I trade her for Jack, who looks suspicious, but nonetheless tolerates being hugged without mercy. Leslie tells me how proud he is of me, and I fall sobbing into his arms. We have so many friends there - Lisa, Karen, Beth, Steve, Roberta, the Abernathys, probaby others I was too delirious to register. I believe I am the happiest person alive. My deepest thanks go to my TEAM - without whom all of this would have been only a dream, to Leslie - for supporting me more than I ever thought possible, to my babies - for giving up mommy for the weekend, and to Lisa - whose smile was a welcome vision at every stop. I love you all. | | Thursday, May 18th, 2006 | | 10:37 am |
Be afraid...
Well, it's time for my quarterly blog entry! In less than 48 hours, I will be at the start line of the 140 mile Ride for the Feast, probably about to suffer a lethal arrhythmia from sheer terror. Why the fuck do I think I can ride my bike that far? Two months after giving birth to two babies  . Clearly I am high. My only solace is that I will be there with Team Atomic, my friends and compatriots. They will draft me, cheer for me, make me laugh. They will not actually let me die. Because they are my TEAM. I could get wicked maudlin about all this, but suffice it to say that they rule, and their ruling prowess is the ONLY thing that will allow me to rule as well. So guys, you rule! Check out Team Atomic at: http://www.active.com/donate/RideForTheF east/TeamAtomic And learn more about the ride at: http://www.active.com/donations/campaign _public.cfm?key=RideForTheFeast | | Monday, February 6th, 2006 | | 7:35 pm |
Built for comfort, not for blogging
I was curious about Joey's take on his medical adventure, so I logged on for the first time in months - apparently more than six of them. My journal looked so pathetic, I had to come give it some love. I lost interest for a while when the main thing I had to blog about - being ridiculously pregnant with twins - was still top secret material. It was all I could think about, but I couldn't tell anyone, so I just gave up. Of course, now I look like the Buddha, so everyone knows. And the only thing I have to say about it anyway is, "Holy shit! I'm really going to have babies! Holy shit!" It's like if dogs could talk - they'd just keep saying "Hey!! HEY!!!!" But that wouldn't stop them from talking. But I guess it's not just me - at Hannah's party this weekend, Rachel kept telling me, "You're gonna have babies. You're gonna be their MOM." You'd think that by 30 weeks of pregnancy, this would be fairly obvious to me. But it startled me every time she said it. Mom indeed! "Holy shit! I'm going to have babies! Holy shit!" Hey!!! | | Wednesday, June 29th, 2005 | | 7:21 am |
Got Romance?
My husband just sang me the following love song: My woman My woman Worth more than a horse My woman | | Monday, June 27th, 2005 | | 5:02 pm |
Make up your mind already!
So that woman I complained about a few weeks ago - the one who wouldn't decide whether or not to die - it turns out that she finally made her decision. As I mentioned, she survived her time in the ER and made it to the ICU in critical but alive condition. Much to everyone's surprise, she continued to improve, and she left the hospital in perfect health yesterday - or at least as perfect as can be expected given her medical history. And I thought we were just dicking around! It's great to be wrong sometimes... | | Sunday, June 26th, 2005 | | 4:00 pm |
Shakespeare rocks!
Unlike Overheard Girl, I didn't rock any Harbins (damn - now I'm going to lose the Favorite Adopted Child contest to Becky!). It's not for lack of love though. I have a massive HIV testing grant threatening to explode in my face, so I stayed home and worked diligently until evening. But there's only so much diligence one human can take, so in the evening I headed out for some alfresco Shakespeare action. Midsummer Night's Dream - my favorite literary work ever, and by far the best play I ever performed in back in my theater days. My mental state wasn't right though - I was mentally composing powerpoint slides right up until the opening scene, and I was pissed that we only had lemonade instead of wine. However, all my disgruntlement vanished instantly the second the play started. I was nothing short of rapt. It was a great production by the Chesapeake Shakespeare Company (www.chesapeakeshakespeare.org) - the human characters wore roaring 20's outfits and spontaneously burst into Cole Porter songs, while the fairies were mostly working a belly dancing aesthetic. They really got the pace and the humor right - it was a perfect diversion for a magical summer night. My only regret was that the actors were getting to have all the fun, so I'm trying to coerce my friends into staging a backyard production of our own. It's a bit much, but I'm always amazed at what I can talk people into doing if I bait them with food. Maybe I'll get to live out my Shakespearian fantasies after all... All right, back to powerpoint. How did humans communicate before it was invented? | | Tuesday, June 21st, 2005 | | 3:58 pm |
Should be working
But instead I'm uploading photos onto Flickr and trying to figure out how to blog them. I think I got the caketacular photo posted, but I'm not sure. Blogging is hard! I have to give up soon - I owe my dog a walk, and I have to work at the Free Clinic tonight. Among my other doctorly duties, I have volunteered to give a pedicure to a diabetic guy with really crazy toenails. I bought special industrial strength clippers for the occasion. My live is so GLAM! | | 12:56 pm |
Caketacular
Cake = Love Wacky Fondant Birdcake, made with Love for Anne & Bonnie's engagement party. | | 12:54 pm |
Flickr
This is a test post from  , a fancy photo sharing thing. | | Monday, June 20th, 2005 | | 4:16 pm |
Caketacular
I think this weekend I finally convinced the world (or at least my little corner of it) of the truth inherent in my long-held central philosophy: CAKE = LOVE. I have to go to work in a minute, and I haven't figured out how to post pictures yet (maybe I can't since I'm a freeloader?). But I made a cake for my friends Anne & Bonnie's engagement party. It had lots of fondant and layers and crazy birds on top, but it was primarily constructed of love. It's hard to tell people how much you love them in any meaningful way, so this was my best attempt. And I think it worked! Cake aside, it was a lovely party. The only sour note was the missing Becky, who hopefully at least got post-grandmother's funeral fried chicken. Off to stamp out disease! | | Tuesday, June 7th, 2005 | | 11:26 am |
Beat down
You know you're getting jaded when... So last night I was really tired. Exceedingly, bone-grindingly tired. I worked overnights on the weekend, then had to bounce back for an evening shift last night, which would usually be fine. However, for some reason I couldn't keep my eyes open for more than 20-30 seconds at a time all day, then had to massively caffeinate to rally for me shift in the evening. I arrive and take signout from my predecessor. He introduces me to a woman who is decidedly unwell. Blood pressure of 70 kind of unwell (for the layperson, BP should always have 3 digits). She's being cared for by an intern - a good intern, but an intern nonetheless. I help him get things started and she's doing okay, or so it seems. Five minutes later I get called to the room - she's unresponsive. Long story short, her heart stops. We restart it, stabilize her. An hour later, it stops again. We restart it again. This cycle continues a few more times. Is it bad when all I can think is "for god's sake, make up your mind already?" FYI - she's still alive in the ICU today, so I know that my body did the right thing, even if my brain was a bit cynical about it. And I'm much perkier today, with a much more humane attitude. Maybe I just needed a bigger Starbucks... | | Wednesday, June 1st, 2005 | | 3:50 pm |
Nothing to say, but so many ways to say it!
I have absolutely nothing to blog about, but will I let that hold me back? Hell no! It beats working on the lecture I'm giving on Friday, so I'm all about the blogging. It seems that I should really thing of something to say though... |
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