Wednesday, September 25, 2013

You Know You're a Surgeon's Wife When... {Vol. 7}

You know you're a doctor's wife when
things get a little heated
and you find yourself like this...

Promising your husband you'll do this...

until your like this...

Because he tried to remedy the situation at hand by saying...

Liked this? 
Catch the previous editions of 
You Know You're a Surgeon's Wife When.. 


Click here for Vol. 8 of

Monday, September 23, 2013

Welcome Baskets

I spent the weekend sans Doc H while he was off conferencing. Per our usual, he contacted me as soon  as he checked into his room at the hotel. 

He emailed, " - so much for a nice bottle of wine with fruit and cheese. I wonder what the obesity rates are around here... No blogging!" He was kind enough to attach a photo of his hotel issued welcome basket.

Like a bolt of lightening, I cropped it, adjusted the colors, watermarked it, and put a nice bright welcome banner on it, only to email it back to Doc H...

He quickly replied, "You just can't control yourself, can you! Now, what are you planning to write?"

"Maybe something along the lines of... Doc H arrived at his conference hotel room safely. In the past, we've been nicely greeted with a hotel welcome gift bearing wine, cheese, crackers and fresh fruit. He was a little dismayed at this welcome package of potato chips, soda pop, Goo Goo clusters, and Moon Pies. They weren't even organic. I'm not sure who was responsible for the welcome gift. Regardless, I find it incredibly entertaining that they felt such a welcome was worthy of healthcare professionals."

His reply?

"My talk tomorrow is about kidney failure, the number one cause of which is diabetes. If I were to enjoy my entire welcome gift, I would need to attach myself to the nearest dialysis machine to get me through the talk. There's enough sugar in that little bucket to send me into a diabetic coma. I might have a stroke and a heart attack at the same time, and we still have estate planning issues. I just ordered a Cesar salad."

I died of laughter, "HAHAHAHAHA! Can I quote that?!!! Fantastic!!!"

To which he responded,  "I wouldn't be so harsh on the person who was responsible. I probably know the person! You could say, 'I'm sure the snacks were meant to be enjoyed over several days or shared with others, BUT...' There are probably > 1,500 nurses at this meeting, and some may read your blog. The Moon Pies are a dead give away - {enter City here}. I can imagine someone standing up after my talk asking, 'Are you married to Emily? You know the doctor's wife who writes that funny blog - yourdoctorswife.' I wouldn't know what to say - 'no my wife isn't Emily, but I'll check out her blog?'"

...I'm dying laughing at just the thought of it.

I love my husband,

Thursday, September 19, 2013

Wearing My Vacation

I'm going to have to ask you to excuse the typos in this post. You see, I taxied Doc H to the airport at 4am this morning. That's ungodly no matter what cyber-sphere you live on.

He's off to a conference to give talks and moderate talks. Talks. Talks. Talks. Talks. Talks.

Once again, I am left home alone to kept our dog and pony show (that would be called family to most) running smoothly.

Since I was to be vacationing during this week, and he was to join me this coming Monday, I have decided I will spend the weekend spending. Yes. Since the hospital screwed me out of my vacation, I've decided to take my two week vacation this weekend. 

So, I'm taking the money I would've spent during my vacation (along with the cost associated with his portion of the vacation--including airfare) and heading to the mall. I already started this personal sporting event yesterday in the shoe department. In all honesty, I don't like to shop. I shop backwards. I buy the shoes first and match the outfit to the shoes. What can I say??? It's all I got working for me, people.

Today, I'm going to suck it all in and do my best to compress it all into some ass-lifting jeans.

Tomorrow, I'm shopping tops after some proper prepping by rolling my tube sock breasts up into a good brassiere.

By Monday, I'll be wearing my entire vacation and his, too.

Monday, September 16, 2013

We Should Be Your VIP

We had an event around our parts yesterday and I was not pleased. I began blogging in a fury. Here's the information you need to know...

Wednesday evening our high school daughter began complaining of a sore throat. Thursday morning she can barely talk. I decide to keep her home from school. After a day of appointments, I return home at 4:30pm to find her worse. "It hurts to breathe," she says. She now has a fever.

I call Doc H who barely has time to talk to me. He is between cases. "She should come in for a rapid strep test," he says.

Dear Hospital,

I. am. pissed.

I don't ask much of you. In fact, I ask nothing of you. Instead, I support you. How, you may ask? I don't nag, I don't complain. I give my husband the space and support to work the insane hours he must work to fulfill your expectations of excellent patient care without receiving any grief for putting us, his family, second behind you.

He works overtime in order to make sure your patients are seen within acceptable hospital imposed patient access time frames. He misses family dinner time in order to reply to patients questions, deliver test results, or return emails in a timely fashion. At his own daughter's graduation ceremony, he sat on the edge of his seat, because he had to take call. He skips family vacations in order to make sure his department, your hospital, is not understaffed. My husband sacrifices his family, his marriage, to put patients first... to put your business first.

Again... I do not nag, I do not whine, nor do I complain to my husband about myself or the kids being second in line behind the hospital.

So, excuse me if I find today's behavior completely unacceptable.

Surely, there must be a reason why physician's and their families are given a platinum insurance card, correct? It clearly identifies us as part of the hospital "family".

So, if I call identifying myself as the wife of a physician who works for the hospital and am with a sick child, why am I put on hold for over 30 minutes, which then pushes me past 5 o'clock? Now clinics are closed, which amounts to no strep test until the following day.

NO patient should be made to wait over thirty minutes to speak to a hospital representative and/or advice nurse.

We, the spouses and children of your physicians, don't beg much of you. However, when we DO need your help (because our own Doc H can't help us because he is THERE at the hospital tending to YOUR patients), we do expect you to pitch in for us, just as we do for you on a DAILY basis.

Yes, if my husband is tending to YOUR patients, I do expect you and your team to step in for him and tend to us like he would if he were free from your chains.

For God's sake, either train your phone reps to send us to the ER, where a resident could tend to our needs, or, as Doc H suggested, open a dedicated Physician Phone Line for us to call in and get the help we need, when we need it.

We stand second behind you. We get it. However, we shouldn't be made to feel second by you. Instead, how about you ensure any interactions with your Doc families say THANK YOU.


Mrs. Doc H

Wednesday, September 11, 2013

A Passion for... Dentistry?

dentist, dentistry
Today, I'm coming clean.  I've been lagging around here and let me tell you why.

I've been cheating on you with my dentist. And, unfortunately, it has not been pleasurable.

For the past two weeks, I've either been in the chair with my dentist, or thinking of him every second of the waking day.... cursing him out, as I wallowed in the pain he inflicted on me.

I've been needled, injected, drugged, numbed, drilled, impressioned, poked, scraped, bite-blocked, drilled, drilled, drilled, and drilled some more among other unmentionables. I've even been crowned.

...if only with the tiara I truly deserve...

And in the midst of my dentist administering such pain, and he knew he was killing me (my legs involuntarily kicking up out of the chair were a clear signal of my shooting pain), I just couldn't understand how someone could get turned on by the field of dentistry.

There's no reward in dentistry, is there?

People come in for cleaning. If all goes well, they leave with clean teeth, a travel sized tube of toothpaste, a small pack of dental floss, a new toothbrush, and if they are lucky, no bleeding gums.

That's the BEST case scenario.

Otherwise, we're leaving numb after having being tortured, well aware of the pain that is to come once the lidocaine wears off. 

Dental patients are not happy coming or going. So, where's the reward in dentistry? 

Dentists aren't privy to the gratefulness of patients after appointments. At least Orthodontists are able to share in the excitement of their patients when their orthodontia is finally removed and their beautiful teeth are revealed. But, basic dentistry? Nada. Nothing. 

Why does one choose dentistry? How does one develop a passion for dentistry? I am perplexed. Confused. Can't understand it. 

Obviously, I'm missing something. Can anyone out there explain it to me?

Tuesday, September 10, 2013

A Doctor Dad MUST Have Big Balls

doctor dads, big balls

If you follow Your Doctor's Wife on Twitter, you already know last night I died laughing...

Excuse the typos. It was incredibly late at night. Never type with only one eye open and (at my age) no reading glasses.

If you missed it, I urge you to read Josh Levs' article, Study: Smaller testicles, more-involved dads? Take your time. You've got to read the whole thing. It's worth it. I promise.

Oh, my friends! Can you see it? Can you picture it? They PAID academics to measure BALLS. 

What can I say, except the truth. I fell asleep last night with visions of hanging scrota and testes with little tape measures neatly tied around them. They were most likely photographed, too. 

Sir, do you have a head shot?
No, but how about a scrotum shot?

The bed shook from time to time as I tried to contain my laughter within myself.

Eventually, I feel asleep and, when my nightly bout of insomnia awoke me, I found I still had balls on the the brain. And math, too. Combined, this equation came to mind:


My husband's gotta have balls the size of the fricken' moon, my friends!

I feel the urge to measure... in the name of science, of course.

I'm fairly certain he won't agree (read- trust me) to have anything tied around his scrotum, so I'll measure volume. A simple squat over the scale should do. I'll also break out the yardstick... just in case. 

Friday, September 6, 2013

The Loneliness of Being a Doctor's Wife

loneliness of being a doctor's wife
I discovered something last night. While I couldn't do my husband's job, he couldn't do mine, either. He couldn't deal with the loneliness of being a doctor's wife.

It was his second night away from home; the first time he had traveled to our vacation/retirement home completely alone. No wife, not one of the kids, not even the dog.

He rang me up before bed, gave me a run down on how the landscaping renovations are coming along and then he said, "I wish you were up here. It's really lonely up here all by myself."

And that stayed with me.

That night I laid in bed and stretched myself beyond my usual confines sprawling myself across the entire mattress. His words resonated within me. I am almost always alone.

I am alone while he is:
in clinic,
in the OR,
in meetings,
in conference calls,
speaking with patients,
speaking with patients' families,
attends conferences,
attends M&M's,
attends board meetings,
meets with colleagues,
meets with administrators,
mentors residents,
meets with attorneys,
meets with bio tech execs,
meets with engineers,
takes call,

I have attended...
back to school nights,
Christmas pagents,
teacher's conferences,
back to school bbq,
end of school bbq,
school auctions,
graduation festivities,
endless kids' sporting games,
couples business dinners,
family functions,
double dates,

Yes, I live a life separate from my husband. His career is demanding of his time and attention leaving me ALONE. It is lonely.

And yet, I find myself working hard to stifle the loneliness. You won't hear me complaining to friends. You won't find me complaining to family. I'll hold my gripes inside, fearing the judgment I know I would be met with... the "Be happy! You married a doctor!" or, even worse, "What are you complaining about! He brings home an awesome paycheck."

Well, I don't know about you, but I didn't marry for a paycheck. I married for love, for his companionship, for a life partner. And when I dwell on that sentiment, it does make me lonely.

Yes. Just like I could never be a doctor, my husband could never be a doctor's wife. I deal with loneliness much better than he.

** But, I am also incredibly lucky to be married to a doctor.**

Thursday, September 5, 2013

Teen Tales: Driver's Ed, Freedom and Failures

There are certain rights of passage as you approach adulthood. Getting your driver's license is arguably one of the most monumental moments in a teenager's life.

Driver's License = Freedom

As a teen, I timed all my driver's education requirements to the day. I made sure I would be eligible to take my driver's license test on my 16th birthday. I studied, I practiced, I did everything I could to ensure I would ace those DMV exams. There was no room for error. I needed my freedom!

My license opened up a whole new world to me. I was living life without my mother, without her "talks" in the car. I was living a more social life. Friends in the car, boys in the car, after-school swimming parties, parties in general, and the beach, the beach, the beach! It was a PHENOMENAL time! Trust me, even my parents don't know how fantastic of a time it was!

And now, I'm a mother with a daughter inching closer to her own driver's license, who looks back and believes it was TOO GREAT a time.


Today, you'll find me doing the happy dance over the newest laws prohibiting teen drivers from driving friends in the car and instilling driving curfews. Back in the day, you would've found me spitting nails over such restrictive teen driving laws. Today, I argue they are the most sensible laws ever passed, freeing the parents of being the evil ones. Now, we simply point to the evil laws.

{How depressing... just that shift alone in my thinking classifies me as old and un-hip, doesn't it?}

I suppose teens equate today's teen driving restrictions the same way I equate the underwire in my brassiere... a necessary evil... painful support. You must live through both until the law (governmental or natural) indicate you've earned the right to remove the restrictions- a terrible, discomforting time in your life which one must live through in order to reach nirvana.  Governmental law tells me my girl is free after a year of solid driving without incident or accident. Natural law tells me I'm allowed to free the girls every night right after dinner.

Lucky for me, I'll have at least 6 more months before I have to point to those evil, restrictive driving laws.

D3 flunked her driver's license permit test... for the second time.

I'm sure it will be the only test which I'll ever find myself privately celebrating her failure.

***Do you enjoy these stories? If so, please note there are changes coming to this blog. Be sure to follow our family stories by clicking the link.***

Linking up at Weekend Reads with A Dose of Paige. You should, too!

Monday, September 2, 2013

Medical Monday {September, 2013}

This train is moving full speed ahead folks! 

Summer has officially ended. School has begun for all our kids which means life is becoming routine again. Let's all give life's routines a big standing ovation, shall we? I mean, everyone's nose gets at least a little out of joint without their daily constitutional, right? See? Routine is AWESOME.

So, if you've been following me regularly on this blog, or Twitter, or Facebook, you've noticed I've slowed down my posts over the summer. Since last Medical Monday, I've posted only 8 times...

I'm looking forward to get back in my blogging routine and doubling my posts. 

Please, if you haven't already, please pay particular attention to READ THIS BEFORE IT IS DELETED.  Changes are coming to this blog. Don't miss out!

Okay, on with this month's show!

Are you confused if you qualify for the party?

If you have a pager interrupting your life... you DEFINITELY qualify!
Do you work in healthcare?
Doctor? Nurse? EMT? Chiropractor? Vet? Dentist? Therapist?
Are you the spouse or SO of a healthcare worker/student?
Are you a nursing student? Medical student?
Intern? Resident? Fellow?

You get the picture, right? Come on, now... don't be shy! Let's keep growing and meeting new bloggers, so we can build a community of support and friendship, learn from one another, and share our stories.


Here are the rules:
  1. Follow your co-hosts via Bloglovin, GFC (if you are Blogger), FB, email or Twitter.
  2. Link up you medical/med life blog. If your blog name does not clearly state how you fit in to the med/med life world, please write a little intro or link up a specific post which clearly demonstrates your connection.
  3. Visit at least 3 other link ups, comment, introduce yourself, and tell the your stopping by or following from MM!
  4. Help spread the word by using our button on your post or sidebar, tweet about Medical Monday, or spread the word on Facebook! The more the merrier for all of us.
Complete step one by following your co-hosts:
Want to be awesome?
Post our button on you post or sidebar and help spread the word:

Want to co-host next month? Shoot Emma an email at and be sure to write "Medical Monday Co-host Request" in the subject field.

Now, link up below and have fun! The link up is open through Friday, so be sure to come back during the week to check some great reads!

Sunday, September 1, 2013

Don't forget! Medical Monday!

Get those posts ready and we'll see you on the grid!

The fun starts tonight at midnight!
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