I'm all out of love I'm soooooo looooost without yooouuuu

This post will work much better if you pick your favorite mid 80s lite rock song and sing it over and over in your head while you read.


Two days pre-pediatrics exam. I am sitting in my new favorite study haunt. An often-empty, well-lit cafe with decent to very good coffee depending on the day, the mood of the barrista, and the phase of the moon. They play the same 15 easy listening songs over and over again in a loop. This should bother me but I actually find it oddly comforting. I monitor my time by Take That, Sting, and Elton John. Second "I want you back," Coffee break! "Don't Let the Sun go Down on Me" means it's snack time. "Shape of my heart" generally signals a bathroom trip.



Ahhhh. . . Take that. ::sigh::

Studying pediatrics in a cafe offers a unique challenge. Namely, that much of my studying involves looking at pictures of rashes, birth defects, broken limbs, and genital malformations that I surmise most of this cafe's patrons would not be too delighted to accidentally catch glimpse of as they walk by my table.

I also tend to feel when I'm reading something naughty like I have a big cartoon thought bubble over my head and everyone around can tell I'm looking at something not fit for public consumption.

This results in me awkwardly arranging my book with my cell phone, sugar packets, and other books strategically covering the offending images. Which probably makes me look even more sketchy and just generally unusual.

The couple next to me today, however, erased any fears I may have had about inappropriate cafe behavior. They were in their mid 50s, on some kind of strange awkward adulterous vacation date. The woman was American, here visiting her daughter, the man Israeli. They were speaking English making it of course 100% impossible for me not to eavesdrop.

I suppose they figured that no one else in the cafe understood English because after 30 minutes or so of exchanging pleasantries and basic personal information, they launched into the most graphic, detailed discussion of their sexual likes and dislikes and lack of satisfaction in their marriages. And I mean graphic. And loud. Full voice, like they were talking about coffee or the weather. This included an enlightening 15 minute monologue from the woman about how comforting she finds it to perform oral sex (with vast amounts of detail on exactly how she enjoys performing it) and how disappointing it is that her husband doesn't like to receive.

And here I am carefully examining images of various infants' scrotums (scrota? scroti?) trying to identify the ones with hernias or fluid accumulation. It felt like this tremendously inappropriate moment.

And I'm trying so very hard to turn into a serious professional grown-up who doesn't giggle every time she opens a diaper and discovers that the newborn baby boy she's checking was literally "born ready".
Surprise!













In happy unrelated news- I present you with my favorite medically relevant cartoon of all time, courtesy of Nataliedee.com:


Happy bacteria!