[musical chimes... "Would you like to talk to?:
Or, I'd be in the same elevator, minding my own business, and the person next to me would say, "CALL DAVID JONES." That same robotic voice would reply,
"Did you mean: DANILA JOVOVICH?"
"NO, CALL DAVID JONES." (slightly irked tone)
"Did you mean: DAVID JAMES??"
"NO!?!, CALL DAVID JONES!!!" (really pissed now)
At which point I'd exit the elevator speedily, cuz conversations with these little walkie-talkie Vocera things don't tend to end quickly. The other day though, I passed by someone having a frustratingly one-sided conversation with the Vocera and didn't blink... until I realized how odd this seemed a few months ago.And then there are the smells... the particular stink of the ED, the components of which I need not enumerate (you KNOW what I'm talking about)... the fetid odors of unwashed ICU patients who have been unconscious for many days and therefore have not been able to tell the staff who give them bedbaths to pay attention to certain nooks and crannies... the unmistakable scent of the hospital, so familiar while at work and so foreign when I pass by my white coat, hanging on the wall at home.
I've always been intrigued by this transition-> from alien to commonplace; perhaps because I haven't moved that much in my life, so each change is sortof a big deal. The first few times I drive to a new house, I muse to myself how familiar these roads will be in time but how scared I'll be of getting lost til that time (given my dearth of navigational sense)... and sure enough, a few months later I'll muse at how I'm able to trace, almost automatically, my way back home.
1 comment:
hey michelle! happy belated birthday! i hope you had a very merry christmas with your family! you and andy seem to be adapting really well! happy 2008!
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