giantegoI think there's a placebo effect of being in this place. You come through with all your memories intact, all your experiences throughout your horrible, miserable existences, but the whole BEING IN A NEW WORLD and GOVERNMENT THAT PUTS APHRODISIACS IN THE WATER thing tends to make you think, you know, gee golly, my life was fictional — maybe, just maybe, that means that my memories are fictional too!! But this is getting a little more philosophical than scientific, blah blah relatively real blah, my point is that sometimes you feel like you're forgetting everything you ever knew. Then you get these random flashbacks that remind you, oh my god, my life was worth something back at home! Who knew! Fancy that! I must share my discovery with the community!
There was a day, possibly the last day that I was really truly honestly happy, that my chief of medicine decided to try out the discounted stethoscopes he had been forcing on us for months. "You're all complaining for no reason!" Bobbo said, sticking those puppies right in his ears. And then, joy of joys, dream of dreams, heart of hearts, HE WENT TEMPORARILY DEAF.
Imagine the worst boss you've ever had. Or, for you prepubescent wonders (and by the way, SMASHING uniforms, also Azula and co., could you maybe hold back and count to ten next time they piss you off and STOP sending students to the ER? Thanks a bushel!) the worst teacher. Then multiply it by the size of the sun. Then give it horns, a tail, and pointy little hooves. Then name it Robert Kelso, M.D., and you have the boss of my life for twentymghskd years. Now, imagine that horrible awful no good boss/teacher/general nuisance being deaf for a day. What would you say to them? Possibly OH BOB YOU WORTHLESS MOTHERFUCKER EVERY TIME I SEE YOU I GET ONE STEP CLOSER TO THE ALCOHOL AND PAINKILLER INDUCED SUICIDE I'VE BEEN INCHING TOWARD FOR YEARS, BUT INSTEAD OF KILLING MYSELF I THINK I'LL JUST KILL YOU INSTEAD. NOW SMILE AND NOD IF YOU WANT ME TO.
And he did. Smile and nod, that is.
Sadly enough, my ~love for my job~ kept me from actually strangling him with those grade-F stethoscopes. But the fact is that, when I sobered up this morning and put on my shiny white doctor's coat, the memory of giving Kelso a piece of my mind was returned to me, and it felt damn good.
Andrew. Code Bruschetta. STAT.