Thursday, September 22, 2005

Where the wild things are

I work in health care. (I’ll blog more about my profession in the off-season.) And basically, at all the hospitals to which I rotate, I am credentialed as medical staff (no, I’m not an MD). Being credentialed this way comes with certain perks, like being able to take my lunches in the doctors’ lounge, if the need arises.

The need arose today. The Astros’ last game of the series (and season) with the Bucs was slated for an 11:35 a.m. start. When I was relieved for lunch at 12:15, I rushed towards the doctors’ lounge—and its big-screen TV. “If I take my entire 30 minutes,” I’m thinking to myself, “I can catch a whole inning, maybe more.”

I burst through the door of the lounge, and then instantly froze, saucer-eyed, as I realized that—gasp!—there were actually doctors in the doctors’ lounge!

At lunch! (Yes, I can be a real dumbass. And not just about hockey.)

Two cardiothoracic surgeons and a pulmonologist languished on the couch, staring numbly at the Weather Channel. My Kramer-esque entrance stirred them from their trance, and they eyed me with the same detached curiosity with which a pride of sated lions regards potential prey.

“What was that about?” groused one of the surgeons.

“Uh, yeah, sorryaboutthat,” I mumbled, glancing furtively about.

Then, I spied it.

The remote.

Darting forward, I snatched it from the coffee table.

“HEY! No soaps!” grumbled the pulmonologist.

“Okay,” I chirped. Click!

And there were the Astros, in full 42” plasma-screen glory, finishing the second, leading 1-0. My sigh of happiness was joined by a golf-cheer-like “aaaAAaah” from the guys in the room, and comments like, “Hey, I didn’t know they were playing today,” and “How many games are we up right now?” reverberated around the lounge as a couple of general surgeons and an otolaryngologist also migrated toward the screen.

“Well, that’s something you don’t see everyday,” remarked the pulmonologist.

“What’s that?” I asked absently, studying Morgan Ensberg’s swing as he fouled one back for strike one.

“A woman, changing the TV to a game. Where were you when I got married?”

I just chuckled. I had gone from crazy-woman to coolest-chick-ever with a simple push of a button.

And the lamb lay down with the lions.

(And the Astros won, 2-1, on one of Brandon Backe’s best pitching performances this year. Go ‘Stros!)


At 7:09 AM, Blogger Leah said...

That's a great story.

Now just wait until you're keeping score at the game and the entire section of mostly men are asking you various stats about them game. And you know that they're going to go home and tell their friends about how cool the girl was that they saw at the game today.


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