Transplant won't let me go without one last run through the ringer. Sunday was supposed to be my first day off since the snow day. I went to church, bought some gifts for Payton's first birthday, and was heading over to Myung's place to see his latest impulse purchase, a Bowflex-vs-coat-hanger (we'll see). Then I got called in for a liver transplant. Before I drove back down to the city, though, I made sure to stop by Paul/Seung's kid's party and inhale some food. The transplant took all night and, of course, I didn't get home until today because I was already scheduled to be on call yesterday. Transplant ends tomorrow. One more day for the rest of my life.

While we were driving around yesterday, Sharon talked about how she was bothered by the fact that the Christian life that Anson urges us toward in his sermons doesn't even begin to resemble our day-to-day. I remember thinking a few weeks ago that today's congregation, at least at Bethel, is made up of certain types of people. We are mostly single, some career-oriented (although maybe not by choice), usually with a fairly long history of being involved in the Church, some combination of wanting to be earnest and comfortable being jaded, perhaps settling into living as "mature Christians," which probably doesn't mean what we think it means. And I thought about how difficult it is to try to reach a group like that - and I mean really reach, to the point of significant and sustaining life change. Did we grow out of passion? Was holiness a phase? When God calls, can we drop everything and go? I know it's humanly possible because that's what I've been doing for work for the last two months, but is it spiritually possible when the only one who won't let go is not me?

The thing is, that's really the only way it's spiritually possible. I want to be put through the ringer, if only that I would live that life for the rest of my days.

In terms of difficult patients, the worst offenders are probably Transplant, Colorectal, and Trauma, in some order. They each have their reasons. Transplant patients are on immunosuppressants, so even the slightest sniffle gets them a hospital admission and a comprehensive workup. Do that often enough and they start building up a sense of entitlement. Colorectal patients turn crazy because, for various reasons, most of them can't take a normal dump. I mean, who can live like that? And Trauma patients are young guys who get shot and after taking care of them for a few days you can kind of see why. Anyway, I'm generalizing, but all this to say, I've had just about enough of Transplant. I'll be switching to Surgical Oncology in a week, and it'll be back to a relatively normal resident life. Thank goodness.

For some reason I've been thinking about a girl from a few years back. We were both med students at the same hospital, though from different schools and on different rotations. I met her through one of the other students, and had a chance to talk to her a couple of times. She seemed nice, and she happened to mention that she was a Christian, so I figured I might as well try asking her out. She said ok (actually, it was more like, "Uh...ok.") and we had dinner. I thought it went not horribly, but it was hard to play phone tag because of different call schedules or whatever, and I didn't see her again after that. Looking back, I don't know, maybe I should have made more of an effort, maybe I was being my usual relationship-sabotaging self, maybe, maybe, maybe. I hope I've matured a bit since then. I'm (almost) afraid to find out.

Last weekend, Myung and one of his roommates had a house party/poker night. He invited me with the promise that "there will be booze and girls." I drove up after my post-call nap, attempted to play something resembling poker, and met some new people. Alas, I did not get any booze or girls, but I'm trying to make an effort. It's not easy to stop being difficult.

With all the things going on in Anson's life, I'd been wondering how he was handling it all. I finally got a chance to stop by church this past Sunday (granted, after service was already finished) and just managed to catch everyone as they were going out to eat lunch.

I didn't get to talk to him at lunch, and I didn't really get to talk to him after lunch when we went to Red Mango for froyo, either.

Myung sees him much more often than I do, and when I asked him about it a while back, he just said, "He has good days and bad days." It's a strange combination of sort of being single again and yet still having parental responsibilities. On certain days, he'll play basketball in the middle of the night, and on other days, he'll need to go pick up the kids, like he's always done. And I'm not even mentioning the emotional ups-and-downs. But it should get better, I hope. Time heals all wounds, right?

After Red Mango, we randomly decided to go to a karaoke place in the middle of the afternoon. We convinced Anson to go even though he said the only pop songs he knew were the ones that Kara liked. And as I sat and listened to him sing like Bieber and rap like Ludacris, I couldn't help but think, how bittersweet.

Baby, baby, baby, oh, I thought you'd always be mine...

Snowmaggedon 2011 beat me up and stole my lunch money. I spent 15 minutes foolishly driving into the unplowed street outside my garage this morning and made it about 10 feet. I then spent the next 30 minutes shoveling the snow around me so I could go back into the garage. Chest pain, shortness of breath, profuse sweating - thank you, Snowtorious BIG. I called the fellow and said I would try to make it in later in the day at some point if they decide to plow my street. And it's still snowing.

Now that the ABSITE is over, I'm back into non-learning mode. I've been coming home and watching college/NBA basketball or Dream High. (The only other person I know who watches Dream High? Catherine, youngest member of BYG, age 12.) It's been nice.

Yesterday, one of the anesthesia residents offered to set me up with her friends.

She: I have so many vultures that I could set you up with.

Me: Vultures?

She: They're over 30 and they're looking hard.

Me: You're not selling this very well.

Well, if I make the mistake of trying to go out into snOMG again today, I guess my frozen remains will thaw out sometime in the spring. At that point, ladies, have at it!