I'd rather play at hug o'war

Thank you to frohohaggins over at ontd_political for bringing this comedy gold to my attention.

It's official: May 12th, 2009 is AWESOME WOMEN DAY. Yes, I realize neither this vid nor the one I posted before it actually occurred TODAY, but see how much I do not care.

In other AWESOME WOMEN news, Mom started her job as an Nurse Practitioner today. She had to go outside, to Memorial Hermann, but it's SUCH a cool position. It's palliative care but the focus is CHF (congestive heart failure) rather than oncology and it's a part of their new home health arm. She'll be overseeing nurses as well as seeing patients herself, and she's so geeked out. It'd be like if I found myself an editing position at some big publishing house after grad school. MY GEEK: COULD NOT BE CONTAINED, as is the case with Mama. We actually had a squee session as we got into our cars this morning.

Anyway, back to SAP PhII. Oh, work life, catch up to actual life in the awesome department already!

My little 83 year old patient is kind of adorable, people. His picture on the demographics page, for one, makes me go, "AWWWWW!" because his old-school black plastic frames are all-askew and he's so clearly a vet with his "I've had this hair cut since I was in the military a bazillion years ago," very much like my poppies. And then on his patient history pages, he checked off good on the state of his general health and under it, "for my age (83)."

This is why it sucks to work in Leukemia all the time, aside from all the boss and political-doctor-pissing-contest bullshit that goes along with working in any type of research setting. Ultimately we're fighting a losing battle, especially when it comes to the acute forms. With chronic, we've found some drugs like Gleevec that "cure" the disease, but a LOT of the patients lose the response eventually. Plus there's the whole live longer syndrome, too, and the secondary cancers, and it's just, all kinds of WOE.

In case y'all weren't like aware, CANCER TOTES BLOWS.

( Here's a pic of Poppies and me when I was eight. Just for the hell of it, and because I just remembered I had uploaded it on LJ years ago. We were playing poker and it was still during Mom's smoking period so I used one of her cigarettes as a cigar. )

Our online charting system has been acting up the past couple of days. Really, it's been on the fritz since they upgraded to version 2.suck last summer, but lately, it's been especially difficult. We spent most of yesterday on the internet, bored out of our tree, so that by the end of the day we were a giggly, nonsensical mess. It was not pretty.

Today, it's back, sort of. We have to login with our usernames but with this blanket password and even then, depending on the patient I'm viewing, there are some gaps. Like on patient A, I can see everything, but then patient B (my newest, the one I'm still collecting background) I can't access his pathology reports. It's ridiculous, but I was downright giddy when I was able to get some queries my monitor gave me done this morning.

Now I am eating Starbust and working on patient B again and trying to avoid hitting refresh on the flist for the the millionth time. I've just about hit full on Heath because everytime a new post pops up it hits me all over again how truly awful this whole thing is and how much I wish it had all turned out to be a hideous joke.

Sometimes it still surprises me how much life can suck so very much.

Friday was my last day carpooling with Delaluce. We got into this huge argument a couple of weeks ago after she left me waiting for nearly an hour with no phone call. This wasn't the first time she'd done that to me, so when she suggested we not carpool anymore (not the first time she's threatened that, either), I was like, "Fine." Well, more like, "FINE," with some neck-poppin'.

Then I was sick for that week, and the day I return (after it had been decided we would stop carpooling as of April 1st, and she'd had a week to look for other transportation), she's like, "We could make this work." And I knew it was going to happen that way the moment I agreed to continue carpooling through April. I called her as I was heading home from the doctor's office, and I was exhausted and I just wanted to be home already. (Note: it's great to have your doctor's office near work when you're actually at work, but not when you feel like death warmed over and are coming all the way from home and thirty minutes one-way is like asking you to run a marathon with no training and nary a drop of water.) I agreed when she offered so magnanimously to carpool another month. She'd even drive the first week because I had been so sick! Geewillikers! I had a great carpool buddy!

But really, it was just a ploy. She didn't want to have to sign up with a vanpool or take the metro to and from work every day because it would mean sticking to a schedule. No more taking my time for granted because she needed to get something done that couldn't wait until tomorrow. None of this, "I totally paged you even though I know you NEVER have your pager and you ALWAYS keep your cell near at hand for just such a case as this!" She pulled that with a vanpool or the bus, she'd get her ass left behind.

She just didn't get that in order for us to remain friends (she has such a good heart most of the time), we would have to stop riding together. When we're just out and about – going to Riaro's and then to Chuy's after, or taking her kiddos to the movies together when the hubbie is out of town on business – we have a blast and a half.

So last Monday there was some much-needed divine intervention. Now that we're being re-organized into this new coordinator pool, I was able to pick my schedule. I like getting up early (I get up for the gym at 3:45am) so I requested the 7am - 3:30pm shift, which will go into effect in the next couple days when the paperwork is completed to change my lunch from an hour to a half-hour. For now, I'm working 7am - 4pm.

I knew it was the right decision when I found myself giggling with joy as I sped my way up 45N. On a MONDAY. It's all on me from here on out, and I absolutely love it.

Oh, yeah. Friday our online charting system went down, leaving me nothing to do since that's how I do my job and all, so I cleaned my desk for the first time in forever. (The last time? When I moved into this office last August. Yes, GROSS.) Anyway, for posterity's sake, I took photos because my desk will never be this clean again. Well. Until I quit. Or on the off-chance they move me again, which is totally possible.

I always forget that Dr. Cutie McSnootie gives great dictation. Like fantastic, and in a coordinator's world, it doesn't get much better than that.

And yes, I'm back at work. Only one patient left to go, and then I'm carrying myself off to home (after a quick dash over to the grocery store for the staples). My URI is back, which is unsurprising since Cat had it week before last. Mom has noticed in her clinicals that she has had a lot of repeat patients, one lady presenting with Influenza A AND B. Per Mom's doctor this rotation, this means we didn't have a hard enough winter, apparently. Blegh.

*sniffle*

*cough, cough*

Back to work...

Today is Mick's last day. This makes me sad for a variety of reasons, first and foremost that she was a fantastic asset to our team, but she also provided a much-needed buffer between me (hell, all of us on the Phase II team) and The Useless One. However, she is going on to bigger and better things in our IRB so I’m not too terribly broken up about it.

In honor of her escape, Gabs made enchiladas (OMG! SO YUMMY!), I made a coconut cake, and Yo, Dev, and Del chipped in for salsa/creamy jalapeno dip and chips from Chuy's. (Man, I'm going to miss that place when I move out of Texas. Shit, Tex-Mex in general. Thank God I have a good salsa recipe to see me through.) And because we will be happily gorging ourselves on all of the above, we moved our weigh in day to today and weighed ourselves this morning. (This is our second "Biggest Loser" challenge. We held the first back in January, of which I was the victor. This has led me to much smack talk this go-round. Due to our success last time, we have 12 contestants, which translates into more money, so as reigning champion, I feel it is my duty to tell everyone, “You just want to give me your money now?”. Gabs, The Guid, and Katt are determined to see me go down in flames.)

And now I'm off to pick up the stuff from Chuy's. Oh, food, how much do I love thee?

Just completed my online training for this new eCRF (electronic case report form) data system I will be using with my new study. I even have a certificate. Whoo. (Can you feel my excitement, people?)

However, the drug itself is rather cool, and I'm hoping it will work. Basically, it stimulates platelet growth. (One AMAZING side effect they've noted in other studies is that it also stimulates patients' hemoglobin and neutrophils.) Considering our patient population, this is HUGE news. One of the main problems with most of our chemotherapy regimens (and even some of our targeted therapies) is that it causes immunosuppression, which we help control by keeping patients on a varied regimen of antibiotics and antifungals, but sometimes patients' counts get down too low, and we are forced to place them on hold. (This has happened three times now with one of my patients on another trial; the worst of it is the study drug is controlling his leukemia. He is now on two types of platelet stimulates as well as a reduced dose on the study drug.)

Anyway, my geeking out aside, I really hate training classes of every variety. I’m a practical learner. I don’t learn well by example. I have to just do it.

( Apropos of nothing (at least to everything else in this post), last night’s Bones was pretty meh overall with a few bright spots. )

Um, so. Yeah.

My supervisor sent me my evaluation a little after nine this morning. She recommended me for a promotion. I'm still boggled.

Of course, that has to go through Troll, a.k.a., our department administrator, so if or when that would be approved is anyone's guess.

But still.

It's good to know that no matter how much I loathe my job and am really just going through the motions, I'm not wholly sucktastic at it.

Today was our department's Thanksgiving potluck, and I'm about thisclose to falling face-first on my desk. We're a large group so it shouldn't be such a surprise that we have some amazing cooks, but hell if people didn't outdo themselves. Turkey, ham, sweet potatoes prepared just about every way imaginable (I brought Bourbon Yams.), green beans cooked with new potatoes and bacon so good I could have eaten seconds and thirds, mashed potatoes, dirty rice, rolls of every variety although I LOVED the ones Z bought from Hartz Chicken because they were still warm from the oven, this broccoli and rice casserole that was downright creamy, and some corn-on-the-cob done just right. Then there were the desserts: sweet potato pie (::dies::), pecan pie (store-bought and it had the shittiest crust ever so that was a big disappointment), this dark chocolate cake thingie with crumbled toffee on top, peach cobbler, and coconut cake.

Seriously, I can’t recall everything I ate because Del and I just went along and spooned everything that looked good onto our plates. We sat in the conference room for nearly an hour and a half afterwards in a post-gorging haze. Thank God for Crazy Carol, who was sitting across from us, because we worked off at least a few calories laughing at her crazy ass.

Then we had a guy pull the best trick on us. With research, there is quite a bit of separation between groups within the department, so when we have a big get together like this it's a lot of new faces, mostly from the lab but also those who work almost exclusively on the floor. Anyway, this guy sits down beside Crazy Carol, rather quiet, just eating his food, when he turns to CC all natural and innocent-like, asking, "So what department are you in?" Of course, this shocks the shit out of all of us, and he admits, "I'm from Memorial Southwest. A friend told me about this, so I came." When we asked him who his friend was, he deadpanned, "I have no friends." When MK, who's on my right, hears this, she has the best reaction, she just sort of stares at him, mouth open, so surprised at this interloper’s cojones that she is for once struck mute. Then she tells him jokingly, "Okay, just leave your five dollars on the table when you leave."

Of course, after several minutes of ribbing him, we spot him chatting with one of the operation managers, and that's when we learn the guy is actually one of the PhDs from Dr. I's lab. We could not stop laughing because he really had us going there. Also, more than a little impressed.

In other news, I'm going to Las Vegas in February for the NBA All-Star Weekend. Del, LaLa, Del's bro, Del's boy, Miss T, The Peon, Gay V, Cat - all told there's fifteen of us going, so we got a couple of suites at the Hilton on the Strip. Del and I are a bunch of giggling idiots because every time we get together, it somehow turns into planning the Vegas trip. (We're in good company because Del's boy put up a flashy little countdown graphic on his MySpace page.) We already have the directions to the nearest Wal-Mart because we're planning on cooking while we're up there since we all like to cook and there is a kitchen in the main suite, and you know, we don't want to go broke eating out.

And this icon has nothing whatsoever to do with this post; I’m just still on a high from last night. HEE!

I faxed an SAE to the company handling one of my slower accruing studies at 9:30 this morning. The person who reviews all incoming SAEs calls me at 1:30 to tell me that their company form has changed and could I please do the SAE over? Oh, you mean, the SAE that is due, by our institutional standards, today at 4:40pm? I'm sorry? Yes, I understand there is a time difference, with you out in California, but you're just telling me this at THREE HOURS BEFORE IT'S DUE?!

WTF?!

So I'm sure, dear flist, you are looking at this and going, dude, what's the problem? Just do it over again. But you have to understand. SAEs are a bitch and a half, people. I equate it with getting a root canal whilst hanging from my fingernails. First, there are the forms. They take time, especially since most have to be handwritten, and they are all company specific. On top of that, you have the added anxiety about making a mistake because if you do, you have to cross it out and initial and date it, and the format of these things is universally cramped.

Then the forms have to be reviewed by the study manager. Any changes s/he requests have to be worked in. (In the case of one of my more special study managers, I ALWAYS have to send multiple follow up emails to the SAE form he sends me, because inevitably, he's forgotten something. It never fails.)

Finally there is the odious task of finding a doctor to sign the finished product. This is further complicated by the small matter of the 1572. This is a legal document sent to the FDA stating particulars about the PI (primary investigator - aka, the guy who gets his name first on the paper) and any of the doctors included as Co-PIs. The SAE must be signed by one of the doctors on this document. No exceptions. As the afternoon is clinic time for most docs and morning encompasses rounds, meetings, etc., or God forbid, s/he's the attending on call for inpatient, it is sort of like the experience I had revisiting Yellowstone this summer - futile, I didn't see any elk or moose, and ended on a very rushed, very bumpy note.

Needless to say, it's a fucking hassle tracking down the PI, let alone a co-PI. So when I went to my supervisor to explain, she flat out said no, and then we went to her supervisor, and she said no. Multiple times. Not only is our doctor out of town until next Tuesday, but she said it was unacceptable for me to have to duplicate my work.

Which, YAY!

[eta]I emailed the company to tell them no to which they replied (what else?) OK. My supervisor just emailed me in response to that and I quote, "Great - you go girl!" Hee! My boss for the win, folks. Seriously.[/eta]