Proclaiming My Love of the Proclaimers

As I think I have mentioned in this blog previously, I have a strange love for The Proclaimers.  Yes, those lovely Scottish twin brothers who were popular in the 1980s and made an attempted comeback, that, from the sounds of things didn’t take off too well.  But really, that doesn’t matter to me.  I quite like them.

How, might you ask did I decide I love the Proclaimers?

Well, as a child born in the 80s, I was just a wee one when they were cool.  However, I was a teen when the whole Shrek phenomena happened, thus bringing the group to the forefront.  Also, interestingly, while in cadets the “survival people” would dance to 500 Miles as the song that represented their group.

Add to this the group’s epic harmonies, sometimes bizarre songs and happening upon one of their old CDs during my undergrad and I was hooked.

It also helped that one of my best Nuc Med buddies liked them as much as me.  We would listen to them while studying and singing along in parts (possibly with some odd dance moves thrown in).

You can really belt along with some of them… One of the better ones to belt with is Irish Girls Are Pretty, which is actually titled Sean.

Even more exciting was that when we were in university, the Proclaimers came and did a love show in our city and we got to go.  We were two of the only people there under 40 and we had a blast.  Even if some of the people in the Nuc Med department laughed at us a little.

I enjoy a lot of music, as I have mentioned previously, but these guys are fairly consistently in my radar when I want to go back for an old faithful.

Apparently they did the soundtrack for a movie recently.  I may need to check it out.

The other thing that has made me think of them lately was that I was watching some How I Met Your Mother and it was the episode when Marshall and Ted were remembering road trips in Marshall’s aged car where he had a 500 Miles single stuck on repeat in the car.  They pretty much sing a long like I do (at least during the parts where they seemed to be enjoying themselves).

So yes, they may not be “cool” and yes they are “old.”  But, they harmonize and I like that they still have accents when they sing and that they bring me back.  Plus, most of their songs are fun to sing.  And liking them makes me a bit unique.  And I do quite like being unique.

General Surgery is NOT Grey’s Anatomy

Today is an epic milestone for me!  I survived my general surgery rotations… Both of them!  And I liked them.  And did well on them.  What a shock to the system!

Often when I have tried to explain to people that I am on general surgery and have little spare time or sleep and such they ask if it is like Grey’s Anatomy.

No surgery team looks like this. Image from tvlinks.eu.

And thus, I present to you my list of how life on general surgery although with some very superficial similarities, is not like Grey’s Anatomy.

Slightly more realistic surgery team… Slightly. Image from timesunion.com.

To start, the similarities:

  • There really is a chain of command.  Interns answer to senior residents who answer to fellows who answer to attendings.  And sometimes people try to breach that and it can get you into trouble.  And some of the people at the top are nasty or manipulative, but most of them are just doing their job the best way they know how.
  • We really do use pigs and dummies to learn to operate and do procedures.
  • Interns do not see the inside of the OR very often.  And often when they do, it is an emergency, a boring case or something people need a hand on.
  • People do indeed come to hospital with ridiculous problems all the time.
  • Surgery is a tiring and emotionally straining field.  The hours are as crazy as they make them appear.
  • 24 hour call is a real thing.
  • People’s personal lives outside of the hospital keep happening despite all of the work and sometimes get pretty messed up as a result of all of the work.
  • Failing an exam does indeed mean you can be held back a year.

And now, the differences:

  • Nobody looks that good after working 24 hours.  Nobody.
  • Scrubs in real life don’t fit that well.  They are gender neutral and height neutral.   Tall people look like they are braving a flood.  Short people slip on their pants all day.  They aren’t flattering… Ever.

    What Izzy looks like in scrubs. Image from buddytv.com.

    What I kind of look like in scrubs. Image from the craftartykid.blogspot.com.

  • Although some people wear long sleeved shirts under their scrub tops, they are not conducive to going to the OR.  Your face would get eaten for sure.
  • For more face eating… The people on Grey’s often scrub incorrectly.  You can’t touch anything after scrubbing.  One should have their cap and mask on prior to scrubbing.  They fail at this regularly.
  • And face eating again… One wears a mask when entering an operating room in progress.  Always.
  • You can loose your medical license for dating patients.  It is actually unethical.
  • You will get fired for sure if you kill someone intentionally, blow a clinical trial intentionally or repeatedly cause all sorts of trouble by undermining staff, endangering patients and having inappropriate relationships.
  • Jobs do not just materialize from thin air.  Nor do fellowships.
  • You can’t just spend your entire residency doing one type of surgery if you are in general surgery.  Also, ortho is another specialty altogether.  And you can’t just hop from surgeon to surgeon at your own whim.  There are set rotations.
  • I will admit that people have been known, from time to time, to do it in the call rooms.  But, not at the frequency, rate or sheer volume as portrayed on Grey’s.  In fact, it is a rare rebel sort of exception as opposed to the rule.
  • Call rooms are not that nice.  Often they resemble patient rooms or ratty college dorm.
  • First year residents don’t get sent to operate all willy nilly ever!
  • Interns do not only do surgery.  They rotate through other stuff.  You can’t just wander off and do something else at random because you get tired of surgery.
  • Residents in generally do much of the work, but they can’t just  go do surgeries or make all the decisions.  Attendings are still in charge overall.  They can’t go all Christina Yang and mysteriously do a ton of procedures.

    What would happen if interns could operate all willy nilly. Image from medicinepgywhat.blogspot.com.

  • Although I have seen people bring their small children to work, it is usually a very temporary and desperate measure.  They don’t just get passed from nurse to resident to staff member at random.
  • If you call residents by numbers or “dwarf names” you can get charged with harassment.
  • You just don’t air that much of your dirty laundry at work.  Your personal life is your personal life.  You can be friends, but full on arguments about who slept with who at the nurse’s station will get you into big trouble.
  • Sleeping with co-workers is frowned upon.  Especially when they are your supervisor.
  • People do go out and drink to drown their sorrows… But not that late and not every night.  Especially not on nights where your pager might go off.  Personally, I prefer drowning my sorrows with food or coffee… You can do that whenever.
  • It is just ridiculous that so much bad stuff would happen to a person or group of people.
  • Surgeons do not generally get that emotionally involved in the lives of their patients. There are limits.  It is good to care, but it is bad to become so involved you cause harm.
  • One does not care for their own relatives while they are in the hospital.
  • I don’t know anyone who would wear roller shoes to get around the hospital (though if I did, they would be awesome).
  • You compete, but things can’t be that cut throat.  You need your fellow residents to survive (I guess their friendships aren’t that unrealistic).
  • You rarely, if ever have enough time to eat a leisurely cafeteria/hallway/coma guy room lunch.  Most days, you do well to have lunch.
  • You can’t just hang out in a patient room and eat lunch while they lay there in a coma.
  • In med school, we sat on the floor in the locker room. Now I hide in the resident’s room. But never did I ever have time to have a prolonged lunch and hang out with coma guy. Image from wikia.org.

  • Not answering your pager is bad.
  • Ignoring patient wishes and requests and going behind people’s backs is bad.  And can get you in big trouble.
  • You can’t just not show up to work.  And the entire hospital full of nurses can’t strike simultaneously.  That would be dangerous.
  • Surgeons do not run the emergency room.  Despite how it appears on the show.  They are consultants.  They consult.  And do traumas.  That is all.
  • People don’t use the word stat that many times in the run of the day.  We speak like humans.  I swear.

I could go on and on.  As much as the show angers me, I keep watching it.  Some sort of strange solidarity because I followed it for so long.  Since it was less bad and less soap opera-ish.  I cry pretty much every episode.  I get ticked off at the errors in pretty much every episode.  Funny how that works.

I do love that recently they seem to mock the fact every once in awhile things are kind of ridiculous.

I also like the start and end of episode monologues.  Even though other shows copy it and it is kind of melodramatic.

Image from tumblr.com.

I am glad real life isn’t like that.  I am also glad my life is straying away from some of the similarities too.

Breakfast club

I am watching The Breakfast Club today.  I was motivated to watch it after going to see Pitch Perfect with the Child and our friend, M.  You see, it is referenced repeatedly in Pitch Perfect and I wanted to know what the fuss was about.  Plus, it is on Netflix and I am on vacation.

The Breakfast Club is about a group of teens in Saturday detention.  They are required to write an essay about who they are before the day is over.

The kids are the stereotypical high school stereotypes, they list themselves in the beginning of the movie as the athlete, princess, basket-case, brain and criminal.  They all know one another, but really know nothing of one another beyond the stereotypes.

The movie follows the teens as they fight, break rules and eventually get to know each other’s dark secrets and learn that they all want to avoid making some of the same mistakes as some of the adults around them.

In the end, they write a collective essay about how they do not fit the stereotypes suspected by the principal.  They are changed in knowing the truth about one another.  But, it they still go back to the lives they once had because such is life with cliques in high school (or any time, for that matter).

I have heard this movie described as one of the best high school movies of all times.  Although I have never seen it to this point, I might agree.  It is well put together and it does take a good look at stereotypes and the background behind those stereotypes.

I was watching another show this week (clearly, while on vacation, I have been watching a lot of television) called Emily Owens, MD.  Yes, it is yet another medical show.  The jury is still out as to whether or not I want to gouge my eyes out or watch it.   But, in the first episode, she describes the hospital as being like high school.  You still have the crazy kids, the geeks, the jocks and the divas.    I thought the description was a little over the top.  A bit extreme.

Despite that, it is kind of true.  We grow into adults but sometimes things don’t change that much from high school.  I mean, we change, we grow, but we still are insecure, we still do foolish things and make bad choices.

The stereotypes in this movie and present in real life.  We all know a crazy one and a bad one and a princess.  But that is really just a piece of a person.  An outward façade.

Some people say surgeons are all cold and don’t like people.  Yet, I have met surgeons who love clinic as much as cutting and call patients from home to check in.  Others think all oncologists are warm and fuzzy people.  I have met some fairly nasty people who work as oncologists.  Then there are people who assume pathologists have to be anti-social to work down in the lab all day, but it took one day on a pathology rotation to see that they are just as chatty as everyone else, just they have different interests.

In high school, I was most definitely a nerd.  In university, I was most definitely a nerd (well, in first year, there was a phase where I was thought to be a stoner hippie based on my friends and overall attitude). In med school, I was a nerd.  But, a lot of that has to do with people you associate with, activities and decisions you make.  Not necessarily your personality in full.  There a cliques everywhere in life.  They don’t stop in high school.  They still exist where I am now.

I am going to a career fair tonight to talk to people about my field.  It will be a good time.  I love this kind of stuff.  The thing is… Like often attracts like.  There are stereotypes for a reason, even if people are individuals beneath the labels.

The Breakfast Club is an interesting look at high school and stereotypes.  The whole thing really goes on into adulthood where we try to pretend to not have stereotypes and wish we were more secure. And we do kind of turn into our parents whether or not we want to.  All in all, a good movie.  Plus, it has a very good closing song.  Quite appropriate to the movie.

MNO: Muppets, Need for Naps and Oddities

I am exhausted.

The brand of tired that makes you kind of silly.  And not want to get up from the dining room table because it feels so strangely comfortable to be sitting down again.

And I am on call again tomorrow… And Monday.

Surgery is not for the faint of heart, or the needer of much sleep.  Unfortunately, I am a needer of much sleep, so all I can say is ugh.

Patrick is sitting beside me watching Muppets videos.  Because they make us both happy.

I can do a mean impression of the Yip Yip Aliens.  Seriously.  I do the face and the voice.  Not the most useful talent, but it cracks us up.  Maybe I should haul it out next time someone gets angry or sad at work.

We really like some of the music video ones.  Even some of the less popular ones.  Like one that is the song Rama Lama Ding Dong.  The classic oldie song.  That I have on my iPod because I love it that much.  It reminds me of driving with my parents.  I belt it in the car all the time.  Patrick claims I am the only person he knows who loves the song that much.

But today, Patrick found a video we had yet to find before.  And we both watched it.  And have no idea what to think or say.  It was like a bad trip.  But, watch and judge for yourself.

Love the Muppets.  Miss the sleep.  Though, missing it makes the Muppets better!

 

Going back to our youth… Sort of.

This evening, we got to spend some time with a childhood love of ours… Goosebumps as brought to us by our lovely “nephew” C1.  He is hooked on them and got about 20 for $5 the other day.  Patrick and I were picking through them and discussing the stories and finding the ones we read.  It was a good time.  Especially when I told C1 the books were made into a TV show and he asked if it still existed… Sadly, no (at least not that I know of with respect to new episodes).

I have had a few throwbacks to the past lately.  Last month, we had a channel that was showing marathons of some of my childhood favorite TV shows.

We watched the classic Family Channel show Are You Afraid of the Dark with C&C, our friends from our small group back on the Rock when we visited them a few weeks ago.  Less scary than we all remembered.  And yet, the same.  On another note, where the heck were those kids’ parents and why were the allowed in the woods late at night?

Finding Nemo is coming out in 3D and I am super pumped for it.  Even if 3D movies give me migraines.

I acquired the rest of the Little House series of books from L (who knew she just had them all stashed in her room this whole time!?) and am embarking to read the rest of them.

Earlier this week, the Child and I borrowed my parents’ car to go to a shower for L while Patrick was back in our new home getting ready for a job interview.  On the way home, the Child decided to root around and see what CDs my parents had floating around.  We then discovered a stockpile of mixed CDs I made when I was in high school and early university.

We had a laugh.  I was a pretty emo and yet mainstream sort of youth with a touch of obscure music in the mix.  Some of the stuff was depressing.  A lot of it made us laugh.  And a few still make me think, “what was I thinking?”.

One of the most ridiculous finds was “Just Lose It” by Eminem, a past favorite of my Dad’s mainly for the humor in the lyrics.  We got him to listen to it as he returned us to our homes.

Other classic tunes from my younger years included a vast amount of Spice Girls, Creed, Blink 182 and Simple Plan.   And yes, the Arrogant Worms.

For those of you who haven’t had the good fortune to experience them, the Arrogant Worms is a Canadian Comedy band who write lovely and clever songs on everything from birthdays to politics to, well, cows.   I was introduced to them at band camp… Because I am cool like that.  And these songs are found on the CDs we discovered (not on the exact ones we listened to, but in the same stash).  They are also still found on my iPod, along with most everything else on those CDs.  They may not be played as often, but they are still there (okay, “Wannabe” may be on my top 25 most played list… Don’t judge).

For those of you who haven’t experienced the goodness that are the Arrogant Worms… My favorite song by the group.  We sang it at band camp, in harmony on the bus on the way to parades…. Repeatedly.  Because we are cool.  And the songs by this band are awesome.  But, see for yourself. 

Tidbits

I spent a lovely day with family today.  More on those adventures some other time (though, they involve sports, farm animals and the scrambler, just to give you a taste).

I was remembering on the ride home that some of the posts I take most interest in are posts where people just write random life tidbits… Which I do from time to time.  But, seriously, this is a post of random tidbits that are not in the least bit interlinked.  This works well for my kind of tired brain.

Last Sunday, I ironed the dress I wore to church and then work with a flat iron… Like one I would do my hair with.  I would like to note that most of the dress wasn’t that wrinkled and that I do own an iron (just not in this city) and that the two irons on loan to me at this time were present, but by the time I noticed the wrinkles, the dress was on and I was in the process of doing my hair… Let the record show, I did not burn myself.

I finished reading Sarah’s Key this weekend.  I would like to note that it was impossible for me to read this book in public… Because I cried the whole time.  Seriously.   I wept incessantly from about page 2 on.

This past Friday, I suspect I may have given myself a mild concussion throwing out trash.  Picture early morning breakfast and lunch making, me powerwalking and a garbage can in front of a wall.  Head down, straight into the wall… As if it wasn’t there and/or I was trying to plow my way into the next room… Felt the jolt clear to my tailbone.  Patrick slept through the whole thing.

I am at war with our coffee table.  It keeps attacking my knees.  I keep failing to get out of the way.

I have had multiple conversations with my friend V’s cats.  Something I have never really done before.  I may be going crazy, but there is something strangely fun and therapeutic about the whole pet thing.  They really play me on when they meow in response.  Kind of like a real conversation… Kind of.

I get super excited now to come home from work and…. Watch Gilmore Girls.  It doesn’t sound like much, but I love that show.  It almost kills me that it is also make super time and also greet one’s spouse time.  Because I am off work and GG is on.  Don’t worry, I still eat and hang with the spouse.  While watching the show.  This is our first time with cable in 4 years!

My anniversary present came in a Disney Princess bag.  And I was excited about the packaging.  Just saying.  One is never to old to love a good Disney princess.

Patrick and I went to Costco this week.  I walked around in awe, kind of like a kid in Disney world.  Not my first time in Costco.  Always the same reaction.

So, there we go… Some random real life tidbits. Can you relate?

Feeling crushed

Getting ready to steal a yacht. Image from 11 Political Lessons We Learned From Gilmore Girls – dsetyani.wordpress.com.

I made it home from work early enough to catch the 5pm Gilmore Girls episode.  It was the episode after Rory gets told by Logan’s father that she will make a good assistant one day.  And she becomes crushed and discouraged and fails an exam and everything goes downhill for a bit.

I love this show.  And I can relate to bits of it (my Dad swears I pretty much am Rory in many ways).

And sadly, I kind of relate to this episode.  Not in the I once stole a yacht and failed an exam kind of way.  But, in the I had high expectations for myself and got very discouraged.

Crushed was the word I used at the time.  Crushed.

I had written the MCAT with intentions of going to medical school.  I was young and in a program that doesn’t typically fork out med school candidates.  I did okay on the MCAT.  Not great.  But, well enough to at least be considered by my two “local” schools.  I decided to write the MCAT again in hopes of doing better and increasing my chances of getting in.

And then, a friend of mine.  An extremely lovely and caring friend who can be rather, well, blunt said something to me that broke my heart.  She informed me that I would probably not get into med school right away because the same thing happened to her sister.  They like people with more experience and with higher scores.  She meant well.  She didn’t realize until several years later that what she said crushed me.

For several months, I continued with my façade of wanting to write the MCAT again.  But, I didn’t think I could do it.  I figured I might as well just focus on Nuc Med and hope for the best.

It didn’t help that all kinds of people pointed out that I was really young and it was fairly lofty of me to want to be a doctor.

I pretty much gave up inside of my head.  I stopped trying as hard in school, I started to avoid several of my friends.  I just wallowed in my med school dreams (and missing Patrick who was away on an internship).

I’d love to say I had some sort of divine miraculous intervention… I did when I first decided on medicine (more on that some other time).  It was more subtle and gradual.  But, over time, I gained confidence.  I did well in school despite my lack of trying.  My friends generally remained supportive (almost to a fault) of med school and I had someone to travel with to write the exam.

I did well on the exam.  That is around when I really started to get motivated again.  I applied to schools, I got interviews.  Most people were still pessimistic.  A healthy level of pessimism given my age and such.   I still found it discouraging, but at least I knew that I could do it… Or I thought I could.

I got in.

It is pretty crazy how over a year and a half one can go from being crushed to being ecstatic.

Just like how on Gilmore Girls, things eventually sort out and work out.

It is cheesy, but sometimes life can be a bit like TV.

Medicine People

Image from Yahoo TV.

I am watching Grey’s Anatomy in French.  Because it isn’t on in English.  And reruns are awesome.  And I need to get my French back.  And I should be working on a presentation.

The show drives me crazy sometimes.  Because people put on hats and masks before scrubbing.  And you can’t just go into ORs all willy nilly.  And they mispronounce medical terms.  And the number of times the residents break laws and rules and somehow keep on training.  Not to mention the odd volume of disasters that fall upon them.  And then there is the whole soap opera thing…. Though, that part isn’t always entirely unrealistic.

But, this episode is an old one.  And for whatever reason, George is being Meredith’s Christina and Meredith is being George’s Izzy.  Now, it sounds silly, but when you have a “person,” someone that you go to about icky life stuff and work stuff and the sort, you really miss them when something is happening that you can’t talk to them.

I am lucky enough to have a lot of people.  I have some people who are everything people, but sometimes work, especially in medicine, you need a special person.  Someone who may not have always been your everything person.

Two of my medicine people and I at our Shingles night.

When I started medical school, I knew nobody.  I made friends.  And a couple of them became my people.  They didn’t replace the friends I had before, but they were the go to people for all things medicine related and life related, as the two meet often.  As much as my normal people are still my people for everything, there is something about the medicine people.  They just get it.  The demands, the culture, the atmosphere.  It makes sense to them.

One of my medicine people and I shared a locker.  We would leave encouraging notes on bad days or excited notes on good days.  Nothing is better than saying things like “Woo babies!” Or,  “The surgeons will love you despite your lack of coordination because you are otherwise a superstar.”  And one can’t forget the classic, “I am going to die,” “No you are not,” conversation.  We hardly saw each other because we were on different rotations, but we still managed to get together when we needed to, even if it was just on the locker room floor.

Since moving, I realize how much I miss my medicine people.  Because they are my friends.  And because I miss that relationship.  We still text, but it isn’t the same.  Our hours are different.  Heck, our time zones are different.  I feel like I don’t have someone locally who gets the whole medicine thing.  I miss having that person to rant about call and who understands why someone not completing a med reconciliation on a very sick patient is a pain in the neck  for you to get when you start call and how I can’t seem to figure out get on even a decent side of one of the floor nurses.

I get sympathetic ears.  Sometimes Patrick tries to pretend to be a medicine person.  But, it isn’t the same.  I miss my people.  Because the understanding is more inherent in some ways.

My residency program is really small.  I like it that way.  Already, I feel like I know the others fairly well.  And will get to know them better.  That works, especially given I am used to small programs.  I think they will make great medicine people.  It just takes time.

On the other hand, sometimes it is good to have people who are way outside of a situation to talk to.  You get a more unbiased view.  I am grateful to have a heap of outside people.  Who admittedly don’t get it, but who try.  And call me out when I get too lost in the world of medicine.  And hold me accountable in all kinds of aspects of life.

But really, I think medicine people are important.  You need that time together.  Maybe not in a room with coma guy (I love that plot line, by the way), but perhaps sitting on the locker room floor, or auditorium stairs.  Those bits of time and those friendships help to get you through.

Househusbands

Marriage is a beautiful thing.

And not just when I find pictures hanging where there were only dreams of pictures before.

I try not to take it for granted.  But, on weeks like this, it is easy to half take it for granted and half be grateful.

Work has been crazy.  And awesome.  I love my job so much, I have kind of leapt into it head first.  I work from 8 until 5ish, then I read another hour or two every night… Or work on presentations or something.

It isn’t the first time I have been this busy.  It is far from the last.  In fact, it is going to be much worse when I am on far busier rotations in disciplines I far from love.

Patrick takes it all in stride.

Here we are in a city where we know few people.  Our apartment is still not fully settled (he will argue it is mostly settled, but until I have almost everything in its proper place, I will probably disagree).  I leave him alone for, in total at least 10 hours a day.

He goes out exploring.  He peruses the Internet for jobs.  He wastes a lot of time with TV and internet (what can I say, I get jealous that he has watched Boy Meets World, The Cosby Show, Full House and Who’s the Boss over the past week).  He is also being a huge help to me.

I call him my “house husband.”  Like a housewife, the househusband is a miracle worker.  Things miraculously get done.  Dishes are washed, beds made, clean laundry appears.  Today, (after much discussion and er… debate last night about exact placement), he hung pictures (and not the euphemism from the show, 18 To Life… I don’t really talk about that here) for me.  So, I came home and our house looks a bit more like a house.

He bought me a rose and met me after work today to go out for Indian.  An unnecessary surprise, and unnecessary take out meal.  But, it is joyful.  And it was nice to relax and talk and enjoy half the walk home in his company.

As someone who can be busy and headstrong and a bit of a work-a-holic, it is good to have such a strong and entertaining support at home.

In the past, society really seemed to downplay the contribution of men in the home.  Stay at home dads were not always looked upon the same as the moms.  Women who did not stay home with the kids or to care for the home were the unusual ones.

I am glad we are past that.  Or getting there.  It makes me happy when people point out that Patrick would make a great stay at home father, or that I am lucky to have him help around the house.  Yes, I feel inadequate when I don’t get that stuff done. At least not to the standard I like it at.  Yes, I want all of the time in the world with our prospective children.  But, I also grasp that we need to play to our strengths and that sometimes, financially, emotionally and otherwise, women choose to work, and sometimes the men can choose to stay home.

Right now, Patrick’s staying home is not entirely by choice.  Teachers are a dime a dozen around here, so he is basically job-hunting for something to fill the gap until something in a school comes along.  And, given it is summer, the gap before even a gap job is at least until September.  So, he gets summer vacation.  And house husband practice.

I worry that I will feel guilty if I go to work while Patrick stays home with the kids, or while they are in daycare.  That I will miss out on things that I would otherwise get to be a part of.  The thing is, even if you are home 24/7, you can miss things.  So, I suppose it won’t entirely matter.

The awesome part is that I have a helper I can count on.  And I am his helper.  Because that is how God made it.  We work together.  We play to our roles.  And sometimes mix it up because we need to in order to make things work.  We have a relationship that is bigger than the outside stresses in life.

At the end of the day, we still get to lie in bed (so long as I’m not on in-house call), talk about the day, read the Bible and fall asleep.  It is a routine I love and look forward to.   It keeps us connected to one other.  And to God.  The two most important people in our lives.

Remember this one?

Patrick and I are watching a rerun of one of our childhood favorites, The Littlest Hobo.

Now, who remembers that?

It was a good one, but apparently, not everyone does.  We forgot that it is a Canadian sort of show and that you needed to be alive in the late 80s to have the full experience.

The premise… A dog, a lovely black and white German Shepherd, is quintessentially homeless and wanders from place to place somehow managing to stay well fed, groomed and not hit by a car. In every episode, the dog befriends some sort of stranger and manages to help fight crime, save a life or do something good for the people.  The people in question almost always want to keep him, but he runs away again.

In case it seems fuzzy, here is the theme song.

At the age of 4, this show was awesome to me.  At the age of 26, it is still awesome, but really, really cheesy.  We like to predict the actions of the dog and people.  Especially because the dog is smarter than almost every person.  So, we still watch it from time to time.  It is a good laugh and a bit entertaining.

I had a few other TV shows that I loved when I was a kid that I still watch now when they are on, like  The Cosby Show, Full House, and Who’s the Boss?.   All of them are a bit cheesy or different, but I still like them for the memories and laugh factors.

Do you have a show that reminds you of childhood?