Or shot!

Or shot, and then mocked while you lie there bleeding. Because the snappy comeback is such an ask then.

Ways to check? How about an ultrasound? Or an amnio. The rest all strike me as a bit on the old wives' tip.

Well, yeah, that's kind of the point.

Or shot, and then mocked while you lie there bleeding.

Is this the death or chocolate thing?

Wasn't it death or cake? Wait, cake or death. That's the one.

"Let them eat death" probably would have gone over just as well for Marie Antoinette.

His temp was at around 87 degrees, no bowel sounds, no results from two enemas, thready pulse.

I'm sure it's awful, but the thing I immediately went to was "He was cold and sick so you gave him ENEMAS??"

Daniel is right, meara. Major blockages were an issue. And this guy's body temp. runs a fair bit lower than most.

The house manager and the nurse (LPN) were looking after him. To warm him, they had his sun lamp on, and were keeping him in blankets heated up in the dryer.

Good lord. I just thought of something. It was a soap suds enema the nurse was administering. 1500cc of water with a ketchup-packet sized thingy of castile soap added to it. She had never put one together before, so I showed her how to assemble it. I did not think to check the temperature of the water she used. That much water? Could make a difference in body temp. But it was way low this weekend.

And that particular nurse is sensible enough to get that if his temp is usually 95 degrees, and it suddenly shoots up to 98, he has a fever, and needs to see the doctor. So I am going to trust that she had brains enough to use warm water.

Manager tells me that our guy is looking a lot better today, and that they may keep him over the weekend for the express purpose of figuring out what is actually wrong with him.

Anyway, thanks again for ~ma. It is a powerful good.

It was death or ice cream sandwich, as it turns out.

I have intern stories I just have to share.

Normally embassies get really top-notch people as interns. The interns are undergrads, usually in their last year, and are above-average in the brain box, plus either already have experience living overseas or have maturity levels that make the internship a pleasure.

Normally supervising them is a treat. Often they produce better work than many officers.

This one, though. I'm out of ideas. The first warning signs were subtle, but then a couple of the military guys were giving each other shit about a woman they both thought was attractive (nothing work inappropriate, something along the lines of "You were totally into her, dude!"), and Intern butts into the conversation with (and I am quoting verbatim), "I wouldn't have been interested in her. I'm celibate."

Naturally they thought he was trying to joke, because you don't say stuff like that at work, in the presence of your supervisor, and mean it. He wasn't joking.

But okay, after talking to him, I chalked it up to his religious fervor, and the direction he'd received back home to proselytize. That, at least, has a legal answer: prossing is not allowed in a federal government building.

Yesterday, he comes into my office and says, "I just blew my nose, and I felt something fly out. Can you look and see if I got something on my shirt?"

I swear it took me about 10 minutes to choke out, "There's a bathroom 3 steps away. Go look yourself."

These are just two data points. What the hell? How did he reach age 20 without basic socialization?

I am awake, because the girls who live downstairs decided to have a late-night sing-a-long to something. I finally went down and banged on the door to get them to shut up. I’ll try to go back to bed soon…

Yay, SA! I’m so glad the bag was found!

In the process, I found this: Yiddish with Dick and Jane

I saw that at the bookstore the other day. I had to have my friend J talk me out of buying it.

Oh, Raq. That is just bad. I kinda feel sorry for the kid.

How did he reach age 20 without basic socialization?

Home schooled?

Yay, SA! Like Daniel, I was catching up, and got to read the whole saga of your lost bag, and it really was a complete story--the heartbreak, the self-recrimination, the disbelief and then acceptance, the yearning for what was lost--and then, a happy ending! I love stories with happy endings.

Cass, your house sounds a bit like our house. We're having a 30 years overdue spring cleaning from hell. It's messy and stressful, but we're trying hard not to quit this time till it's all done. We've done countless dump runs, and donation runs. And the sorting, purging, and organizing what's left. It'll be wonderful when it's done. I just hope we don't poop out when it's almost done, and then start cluttering up again. That's our pattern.

But hey, you'll be leaving your history behind you, and starting fresh in a new place, so you can make new rules, too.

Okay, having caught up again, I'm off to bed now. G'night, Bitches.