Tard. Worn to a nubbin. Sounds a lot like yesterday, heh. But I made a promise, after all. The Topeka girl who tried to convince a family that she was their long-lost daughter. She sucks. Not much more to be said about that, is there? She sucks, big time. How fucking cruel. Moving on... I'm stimied by a problem with our PACS software. We did a coupla patients yesterday, and I remember well when we did them, and it was well documented. But the PACS this morning had different times on the exams. I pointed this out to the other tech that was there this morning, so I know that it wasn't just me. So I reported the problem, and then I was unable to duplicate it. Yep, the dates on the exam were now correct. But I had a witness, a guy that pays attention to details, unlike me. We had thought that it was the scanner software maybe, substituting the ordered time for the done time. But the scanner software people had never heard of such a thing, and neither had the PACS people. It's a danfino, truly it is. In other aspects of this miserable life... it was hot today. Hot. Hot. Hot. There were two big thunderstorms on the radar, north of Topeka, and they appeared to be converging on us. I went outside and Bang! Bang! Rumble, rumble. A little wind, some sprinkles. Then nothing. The SOBs converged south of Topeka, leaving us, once again, high and dry. Well, not high, dammit. In still other news, my right hand, where I can't make a fist without it hurting, but then, peacenik that I am, I have no business making fists anyways, heh. Well, damn, the pictures don't do justice to my suffering. I'm really disappoited at Karen's photographic skills.... (That's a joke, of course... I set the camera, put it in her hands and told her to push the button....) I went to bed finally about 22:00 last night, getting hung up in the Chiefs game in Canton... I left before it got rained out, but I was happy to see my boys (My??? boys???) do well, more or less. I look forward to the season with some trepidation... people are saying that the Chiefs have a chance this year, which is usually a bad thing, omening many lost-by-a-field-goal games. Not that I really care, y'know? They're *not* "MY Boys", they're mercenaries, and they go where the meat market puts them. And so would I, so would I. I'm gonna start abusing Tylenol, hoping that'll bring the swelling in my hand down. Another day like this and I'll be driven to see the doctor and get some... damn this old head, I don't know what I want to say... O'yeah, steroids. I was thinking that this should just go away by itself... I've always known that I was allergic to bees, but it's been 40 years or so since I was stung. Yep, 40 years at least. I can run faster than most bees can fly... and I tend to stay away from places where bees hang out. But I never even *saw* this sucker... he was there, lit on my hand, stung me and then he was gone. I might've seen him flying awya, laughing his little bee ass off at my cavorting. One of my nightmares is being on a ladder when a swarm of bees get me. Combining my fear of heights with my certainty that bee stings could be fatal to me... a good way to freak Doug completely out. And then tonight, there was a wasp trapped between the door and the screen door. I let him out, and he went, and we were both glad to be shut of one another... me quite consciously, it just liking the freedom of being able to fly away. Bye Bye, little wasp.... I don't know if there is a difference between the stings of wasps and that of bees, I'm sure that the venom isn't the same... I'll avoid them both and any cost, so it doesn't really matter, unless I really actually get stung. Enough of that. I've been suffering the pangs of depression lately... yep, I'm still on the meds, what a mess I would be without them! But... but I'm just thinking too much lately, About life, and life's end, and death, and what it all means... typical high school angst, really. Why does it still bother with me, neigh onto my sixth decade? Well, there's part of the problem... I'm only fifty-seven, not sixty. How nasty will it be to be sixty? I could ask my wife, or my brother, or my mother... Yep, I have an attitude, and I've gotta get rid of it quick-like. Recognition of the problem is the biggest part of the cure, in some cases... maybe even in mine. Anyhoo... love you all!
the bee bit me, is even more swollen and itchy and generally hurtful. O'wait, I have a camera, I'll put up a picture! Click on the little one to get a big one, of course. Karen's feet to my right... I convinced her to take the picture, since I didn't want to set up the tripod and figger out how to do the timer.