QotD: (The Uncle Danny version) What am I, chopped liver?

This month I've decided to post every day. Since I don't have enough original things to write about (hence the desertish nature of my blog lately), I've decided to ask a new question every day this month and hope that I get answers. I have questions; you have answers.

ThePinkThing's favorite person is here. Uncle Danny arrived yesterday evening, and TPT has only unVelcro'd herself from him to go to sleep. She was really good this morning and waited until 7:55 to go into the guest room to wake him up. For a 7 year-old, 7:55 am is equivalent to 12:00 pm for an adult.

I've become part of the background, useful for answering specific questions ("where are my sneakers?"). That's just fine with me -- she's lucky to have such a wonderful favorite uncle. Now if only we could figure out how to clone her other favorite uncle so he could be here and visiting his family at the same time, TPT's life would be complete...

QotD: What are you doing on this fine Sunday?

This month I've decided to post every day. Since I don't have enough original things to write about (hence the desertish nature of my blog lately), I've decided to ask a new question every day this month and hope that I get answers. I have questions; you have answers.

It's a lovely day outside today, but I haven't enjoyed the outdoors. I've been to the mall to pick up a winter coat and snow pants for ThePinkThing. We were unsuccessful in finding snow boots that fit and were comfortable. Now I'm off to the airport to pick up my brother, who will be visiting for the next week. What are you doing this fine day?

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Update: I forgot to officially post this yesterday (11/21), so I am backposting it today (11/22).

QotD: Isn't she cute?

This month I've decided to post every day. Since I don't have enough original things to write about (hence the desertish nature of my blog lately), I've decided to ask a new question every day this month and hope that I get answers. I have questions; you have answers.

Isn't she cute?

QotD: Do you like your job?

This month I've decided to post every day. Since I don't have enough original things to write about (hence the desertish nature of my blog lately), I've decided to ask a new question every day this month and hope that I get answers. I have questions; you have answers.

Fine, I came up with another question, as I am sitting here at work waiting to go to a meeting with the Head Honcho. Actually, it is a series of related questions.

1) Do you like your job?
2) If so/not, why?
3) Is it the job you saw yourself doing 10 years ago?
4) What is your ideal job, if this one isn't it?

I'll answer my own questions:

1) Do you like your job?
Yes. I actually REALLY like my job. I've been at this job for only 3.5 years and never dread going into work (which I was doing at the end of my time at my last position).

2) If so/not, why?
This job allows (forces) me to learn something new everyday, I work with really smart and interesting people (even a few crazy-funny ones), and I feel that I am advantageously impacting the health of many people. Plus the job comes with really good benefits.

3) Is it the job you saw yourself doing 10 years ago?
No. If you told me I'd be doing what I'm doing and working where I'm working, I'd have laughed in your face. I would've said "I couldn't do that!" Surprisingly, I have been doing it, and doing it pretty well.

4) What is your ideal job, if this one isn't it?
I love books, my biggest vice. I've always had a desire to own a used bookstore. Maybe with an attached coffeeshop. Or be a librarian. Not that I am suited for either of those jobs, mind you. It's just that I lust after being paid to work in a bookish world...

QotD: I've run out of questions

It looks like I've run out of questions and haven't been getting many answers anyway. It was fun while it lasted.

The blog shall, therefore, return to its previous quiet existence.

QotD: Where do extra socks go?

This month I've decided to post every day. Since I don't have enough original things to write about (hence the desertish nature of my blog lately), I've decided to ask a new question every day this month and hope that I get answers. I have questions; you have answers.

Where the hell do the extra socks go? I have about 10 or 15 unmatched socks that I just can't get rid of...

QotD: WTF is it with plastic packaging?

This month I've decided to post every day. Since I don't have enough original things to write about (hence the desertish nature of my blog lately), I've decided to ask a new question every day this month and hope that I get answers. I have questions; you have answers.

I have a cut on my left hand. How did I get this cut, you ask? I got it from trying to get something out of its diabolical plastic packaging. In order to remove this item (a camera battery charger, if you must know), I had to resort to my Really Sharp kitchen scissors. In the process of removing the charger from the packaging, I managed to cut my finger (on the plastic, not the scissors).

This isn't the first time I've injured myself trying to remove some gizmo or toy from packaging hell. I suspect that some of you have had it happen, too. In fact, thousands of people go to ERs yearly with injuries caused by plastic packaging.

I am not sure why this kind of indestructible plastic packaging is necessary. Perhaps it reduces in-store theft, but somehow I doubt it. It certainly isn't needed for online purchase. Hello, companyX -- I bought that thingamajig from your website, and you sent it direct to my house. If someone wants to steal it, they'll take the whole box before I get home. "Securing" my thingamajig in indestructible plastic packaging only makes me insane.

Having to deal with this kind of packaging makes me insane. And I'm not the only one who feels that way. There is even a name for that feeling: "Wrap Rage".

Amazon is trying to convince companies to provide their items in "frustration-free" packaging. I do like this option, especially as it appears to be more environmentally freindly, but it not infrequently costs extra. Extra money, so that I don't have the opportunity to slice up my hand on the sharp edge of a plastic clamshell. Whose brilliant idea is that?

And let's not even talk about kids' toys that are secured in the package with 4,276 twist ties...

QotD: Why does my lane always go the slowest?

This month I've decided to post every day. Since I don't have enough original things to write about (hence the desertish nature of my blog lately), I've decided to ask a new question every day this month and hope that I get answers. I have questions; you have answers.

This is the Tuesday Traffic edition of QotD. As I have noted already, I am plagued by (and think about) traffic. For goodness sake, I drive to and from work on the DC Beltway, so traffic is a part of my commuting life. One aspect of my commute that particularly bugs me is that it seems that no matter what lane I'm in, it is the one going the slowest. (This also happens in the check-out line at the grocery store, too...) All the other lanes pass me by. I can be in the farthest left lane, and that one goes the slowest. I get fed up and move over a lane, and then that one comes to a crashing halt. I doesn't seem to matter if my lane has trucks in it or not. You'd think that the lanes with the 18-wheelers would be going slowest in traffic because of the time lag necessary for them to get up to speed and slow down. Nope. If the truck is not in my lane, it passes me by. I'm sure that physics can easily explain this, but I just wish that people would get out of my way.

QotD: Are blood thinners poison for vampires?

This month I've decided to post every day. Since I don't have enough original things to write about (hence the desertish nature of my blog lately), I've decided to ask a new question every day this month and hope that I get answers. I have questions; you have answers.

It won't come as a surprise to most of you that blood thinners are on my mind of late -- specifically warfarin or Coumadin (yes, I'm talking rat poison). That's because I had a new deep vein thrombosis (i.e., blood clot in a leg vein) last month. Yay? A second DVT (even though I did not have a bonus pulmonary embolus, like the last time) basically gets me life-long blood thinners. It wouldn't be so annoying if it were easy to keep my blood just thin enough without being too thin. This is not an uncommon problem, and I've been on the physician side of it many a time. Everything interacts with warfarin, including two of my favorite foods (broccoli and cranberries). I can't take NSAIDs on a daily basis anymore, which is annoying because I continue to have moderate back pain pretty much all the time.

And so, blood thinners being on my mind, I wonder what effect blood thinners might have on vampires. Do they make sucking the blood out all the much easier and so are considered a good thing? Are they poison (like garlic) for a vampire? Do you think a vampire could tell that I'm taking warfarin? I can't decide whether to sleep with a wooden stake next to my bed, or not.

QotD: If I feed my daughter cereal for dinner, does that make me a bad mother?

This month I've decided to post every day. Since I don't have enough original things to write about (hence the desertish nature of my blog lately), I've decided to ask a new question every day this month and hope that I get answers. I have questions; you have answers.

Breakfast is my favorite meal. Pancakes, French toast, bagels with cream cheese, cereal, oatmeal... Yummy all around. Before I had a kid, I would not infrequently eat cold cereal for dinner because it's fast, easy, and nutritious. Now I can't do that so much. But I do serve cold cereal or waffles sometimes for dinner, mostly when TheHusband (who, weirdly, is not a breakfast person) isn't home. We call it a "nutritious dinner". Does this make me a bad mother?

QotD: Do you have a favorite season?

This month I've decided to post every day. Since I don't have enough original things to write about (hence the desertish nature of my blog lately), I've decided to ask a new question every day this month and hope that I get answers. I have questions; you have answers.

Do you have a favorite season of the year? I do -- it's fall, autumn, whatever you call it. I love the change from heat and humidity to crisp and cool. I like how trees that were monochromatically green suddenly become fiery red or sunnily yellow, then change again to brown. I love the sounds of dry leaves crackling underfoot. I like wearing sweaters (which makes my nice Jewish grandmother inherently happy).

I hate winter, though.

QotD: What do you give someone for his 95th birthday?

This month I've decided to post every day. Since I don't have enough original things to write about (hence the desertish nature of my blog lately), I've decided to ask a new question every day this month and hope that I get answers. I have questions; you have answers.

What do you give someone for his 95th birthday?

My grandfather's 95th birthday is next month, and I've tried to come up with a fantabulous and original present for us (the grandkids, grandkids-in-law, and stepgrandkids) to give him. In recent years, we've given my grandparents a personalized photo book from Shutterfly (which turned out fabulously, if I don't say so myself), a cool picture of the grandkids and great-grandkids along with an original poem, and a formal picture of all the grandkids, grandkids-in-law, and the 3 great-grandkids who were born at that time. He doesn't need anything and has the wherewithal to purchase any thing he wants. So I'm stumped.

I did come up with one idea, which is (annoyingly) a rehash of what we gave him for his 85th birthday. No, I'm not going to tell you what it is, but I promise to show it to you (my adoring public) when we're done.

Have any of you been in this boat? If so, did you come up with a really cool original present to give your 95 year-old grandfather? Wanna share it?

QotD: What do we owe our veterans?

This month I've decided to post every day. Since I don't have enough original things to write about (hence the desertish nature of my blog lately), I've decided to ask a new question every day this month and hope that I get answers. I have questions; you have answers.

Happy Veteran's Day. Sort of. I might be the poster child for tree-hugging, bleeding heart liberal, but I am ever thankful for people who are willing to serve my country and protect me by putting themselves in harm's way. Plus, I'm married to a veteran.

I'm a neurologist, so I think about the brain. I think about things that hurt the brain. I think about what happens to the brain after it gets hurt. Mix in thinking about Iraq and Afghanistan, and you see me worrying about the current state (or lack thereof) of adequate health care and mental health care for our returning soldiers. I am lucky that I have good health insurance (providing I remain healthy and employed, that is). TheHusband served in the military and was honorably discharged, so he is entitled to health care through the VA system. Sadly, I am happy that he does not have to receive care there. Trust me, I've worked in a VA Hospital, and I know of what I speak. Issues relating to poor health care in the VA system aren't solely related to the ... um... lack of services at the institutions (I'm being kind here), but also to the lack of coverage where coverage is needed. VA clinics and hospitals are relatively few and far between, especially in rural areas, where the need is likely to be greatest.

Traumatic brain injury and PTSD are seen in increasing numbers of soldiers returning from Iraq and Afghanistan. While the diagnosis of these disorders may be easy in severe cases, diagnosis and treatment of mild or moderate cases can be difficult and confusing. A simple PubMed search of PTSD plus TBI returned 102 articles, 21 of which were published in 2010. Not an insignificant problem. As you can imagine, something that is difficult to diagnose is likely to be difficult to treat. There is no real good treatment for either of these disorder, which even in their "mild" forms can be quite disabling. Add together disroders that are hard to diagnose, difficult to treat, and a health care system inadequately prepared to deal with these issues, and it equals sick servicemembers who are not receiving care they deserve.

The lack of adequate chronic and mental health care is a concern for all of us, not just for the servicemembers and their family members. The Army Times has identified a serious lack of available care for treatment of traumatic brain injury (TBI). Reports have shown that the Army's efforts to reduce returning soldiers' suicides are failing.

So what do we owe our veterans? At the very least, we owe them adequate health care, especially to take care of war-related injuries.

I wish that this post included brilliant ideas for fixing these problems, but I don't have any. But neither, it seems, do people who are in charge.

QotD: Neurology question

This month I've decided to post every day. Since I don't have enough original things to write about (hence the desertish nature of my blog lately), I've decided to ask a new question every day this month and hope that I get answers. I have questions; you have answers.

If someone has weakness of the proximal muscles of his legs, does he find it hard to go up stairs or down stairs? Justify your answer. Proximal means "closer to the beginning" and in the case of the leg muscles means thigh and buttocks muscles.

Once enough people respond, I will tell you the answer.

QotD: Can a man and a woman really be platonic friends?

This month I've decided to post every day. Since I don't have enough original things to write about (hence the desertish nature of my blog lately), I've decided to ask a new question every day this month and hope that I get answers. I have questions; you have answers.

There are lots of people who believe that a man and a woman can't really be friends. I'm not talking about a gay man and a straight woman. I'm talking about a straight man and a straight woman having a true platonic friendship.

I've heard it said that men and women can't really be friends because the man always thinks about sex and it interferes with true friendship. (I dunno about that, 'cause I'm a gurrl.) Or that sex is the ultimate goal of most men in a relationship with a woman, and the friendship is just the precursor. Or maybe it's because men and women have ultimately different goals for friendship (whatever the hell that means) or that men and women don't have too much in common. Or that cross-sex friendship only works if one person is gay. Whatever.

Two of my dearest friends are men, so obviously I believe that cross-sex friendship between a man and a woman is possible, even without the specter of sex looming over the relationship. I've been friends with one of these men since the first week of freshman year in college. I've never been interested in anything other than friendship, and I am sure that he feels the same. I met the other guy friend when I was 30. While he was great boyfriend material, we instantly fell into older sister-younger brother mode, even though he's a couple of years older than I am (I am an older sister, and he is a younger brother, so that wasn't a stretch). He's really annoying. (Fine, I'm just kidding. But he is.) Anyway, my friendship with both of these guys is real, deep, and totally platonic. I will admit that each of these guys is married to one of my best friends, but my friendships with the guys predates their relationships with their wives, so I refuse to count that as a reason.

Do you agree that cross-sex friendship is possible? If not, why?

QotD: Is Jim Wright an asshole?

This month I've decided to post every day. Since I don't have enough original things to write about (hence the desertish nature of my blog lately), I've decided to ask a new question every day this month and hope that I get answers. I have questions; you have answers.

Since he hasn't been by my blog in a while, I feel safe asking this question: Is Jim Wright really an asshole? If so, should I update his webpage?


What? You're objecting to this question? It's inappropriate? I'm being offensive and insulting to someone whom I've never met in "real life"? Jim's feelings might be hurt?

Oh stop, now.

Jim can take care of himself -- he's a former Chief Warrant Officer in the US Navy, fergoshsakes. If he wants to go all postal on me, I couldn't stop him. Of course, that possibility doesn't prevent me from poking him with a stick, now does it?

QotD: Pancakes or French Toast?

This month I've decided to post every day. Since I don't have enough original things to write about (hence the desertish nature of my blog lately), I've decided to ask a new question every day this month and hope that I get answers. I have questions; you have answers.

This is the Sunday breakfast version of the QotD. Since breakfast is my favorite meal, I want to talk about it. Which would you rather have -- pancakes or french toast? Then again, there's always an omelet. Or, even better, lox and chive cream cheese on a bagel (onion, lightly toasted)...

And no, it isn't freedom toast.

QotD: Alaska or Hawaii?

This month I've decided to post every day. Since I don't have enough original things to write about (hence the desertish nature of my blog lately), I've decided to ask a new question every day this month and hope that I get answers. I have questions; you have answers.

When I took my Neurology Boards recertification test in 2007, I was semi-convinced I wouldn't pass. Like many people, I tend to obsess about important tests prior to the test, then be calm, cool, and collected once it starts. The Neurology Oral Boards were an exception to that rule (I practically cried during part of it). Anyway, TheHusband believed I would pass on the first try, but wasn't above a little positive reinforcement. He told me that if I passed the recertification on the 1st try, we would go to Alaska or Hawaii; if I passed on the 2nd try, we'd get to go to Florida; but if I passed on the 3rd try, we'd be going to Cleveland. In winter. To visit my mother-in-law. Now my MiL is a wonderful woman, but Cleveland in winter is ... not.

Needless to say, with that incentive, I passed (well) on the first try. So I get to pick between Alaska and Hawaii. Which should I pick and why? And which would you rather visit?

QotD: Are internet friends just as good friends as meat-space friends?

This month I've decided to post every day. Please don't faint. Since I don't have enough original things to write about (hence the desertish nature of my blog lately), I've decided to ask a new question every day this month and hope that I get answers. I have questions; you have answers.

I like finding interesting and like-minded people on the internet. I have met, in person, many of my internet friends and for the most part, I have enjoyed them as much in meat-space as I have on the computer screen. I even met my husband online. However, I have friends and family who view this type of behavior with great dismay and distrust, as if internet friends are inherently axe murderers or, if they are not, internet friends cannot be quite as good as meat-space friends. I disagree with that attitude (duh), but I am curious what y'all think.

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Updated 11/6/2010

I followed a link from my friend Janiece to this journal entry written by Roger Ebert. While it is not exactly what I was fishing for in this question, it does touch on online relationships. It is a lovely piece. Go read it.

QotD: Is it really so hard to drive fast in the left lane and slow in the right?

This month I've decided to post every day. Please don't faint. Since I don't have enough original things to write about (hence the desertish nature of my blog lately), I've decided to ask a new question every day this month and hope that I get answers. I have questions; you have answers.

For me to get to work, I have to drive on the dreaded DC Beltway. So that means that I get stuck in traffic. And, therefore, I think about traffic and driving patterns a lot. (so do lots of other people).

One driving behavior that really sticks in my craw is slow cars in the left lane. While I know that all traffic on the Beltway is not caused by moronic driving habits, I am convinced that there are some important driving rules that should be obeyed. And one of those is fast--left, slow--right. What is the lure for these people who like to drive slowly (and by slowly, I mean less than 60 mph) in the left lane? Is is inherent curmudgeonliness? Is it a need to make everyone else around you slow down? Is it simple cluelessness?

My question for today is "Is it really so hard to drive fast in the left lane and slow in the right?"

QotD (Halloween version): Is it okay to snitch candy from your kid's Halloween candy haul?

This month I've decided to post every day. Please don't faint. Since I don't have enough original things to write about (hence the desertish nature of my blog lately), I've decided to ask a new question every day this month and hope that I get answers. I have questions; you have answers.

Halloween is one of my favorite holidays. I have no connection to the concept of All Hallow's Eve, being a nice Jewish girl, so Halloween for me has always been about costumes and candy. I grew up in a generic NJ suburb, in a neighborhood with bunches of kids -- fertile hunting ground for candy pickings on Halloween. Most of the time my brother and I trick-or-treated on our own, then with friends as we grew older. Our costumes came mostly from stuff around the house. I remember being a black cat (black leotard, black tights, aluminum foil tail / ears, and whiskers drawn on with eyeliner), a giraffe (my mom made that one from an old blanket), and a doctor (my dad snitched scrubs, mask, and hat from the hospital). My brother and I would typically circle the block, ringing doorbells and chanting "Trick or treat, Smell my feet, Gimme something good to eat". We'd come home with a haul of candy.

The typical post-trick-or-treating activity involved dumping out the sack and sorting the candy. There was the stuff neither of us would touch (Almond Joys, Mounds, taffy, Baby Ruth), candy we liked but would be willing to trade (sweet tarts, licorice, peanut M&M's) and the keepers (Milky Ways, Snickers, Hershey bars, regular M&M's...). There might be a flurry of trading, we'd get to eat a piece or two, then it was brush teeth and off to bed.

Strangely enough, the amounts in our candy bags always seemed to drop more quickly than expected. Mind you, I never caught them at it or had any proof, but I am positive that my parents helped themselves after we were in bed. More than once.

TheHusband has consistently snitched from ThePinkThing's candy haul since she started trick-or-treating. I have taken a piece or two, I will admit, but not many, not like TH. Is it really okay to decimate your kid's Halloween candy stash? (glares at TheHusband)

QotD: Election Day version about robocalls...

This month I've decided to post everyday. Please don't faint. Since I don't have enough original things to write about (hence the desertish nature of my blog lately), I've decided to ask a new question every day this month and hope that I get answers. I have questions; you have answers.

Do political robocalls actually do anything other than annoy the crap out of the recipient? I know nobody who doesn't hate them. Did some firm do a marketing study or other worthless activity that says otherwise?

I can't wait until tomorrow.

QotD: Is pink fleece fashionable?

This month I've decided to post every day. Please don't faint. Since I don't have enough original things to write about (hence the desertish nature of my blog lately), I've decided to ask a new question every day this month and hope that I get answers. I have questions; you have answers.

Question #1: Is pink fleece fashionable?

I love my pink fleecey zip-up jacket. Those of you who know me well know that, in general, I loathe pink. My bedroom when I was a kid was pepto-bismol pink (with pink and white shag carpeting -- it was the 1970's, whaddaya expect?), and I think that scarred me.

I wanted a fleece jacket a couple of years ago, but didn't want to pay full price. I already owned 3 other jackets, so I certainly didn't need it. LL Bean had fleece jackets on sale, but only pink. It was so much cheaper than the full price ones, I decided to branch out into pink. Bright pink. Really, really pink. But is a pink fleece jacket fashionable for a 40-mumble year-old neurologist? Or did I look like a dork walking into work this morning?