My week, by Jo.

This past week, I was stroke coordinator, advisor to the publications department, advisor to the computer guys who are installing new monitors, preceptor to two nurses, secretary, patient care aide, transporter, housekeeper, fire-putter-outer (figuratively, not literally, thank Frogs), chief inspector of electrical outlets, general dogsbody, and carrier of a full patient load.

I have this weekend off. Except work has called four times as of 0500 this morning to see if I'd like to work extra.

Extra work is not on my schedule. Last night I went to bed just after 5 pip emma, as the sun started to go down. I slept eleven and a half hours and feel almost human.

Things are bad at Sunnydale General: we've got a number of people out with work-related injuries or stress-related problems, our census has ballooned over the last six weeks, and we're all run to nubbins. On top of all of that, I've had such a sore butt over the last two weeks that I've been barely able to walk.

Conversation between me and Der Alter Jo at the Korean barbecue:

Me: My ass hurts.

DAJ: Cross your legs like this: (demonstrates).

Me: (crossing legs like that) scream

DAJ: That's piriformis syndrome.

Conversation with Dr. PMR:

Me: My ass hurts. Friend of mine says it's piriformis syndrome.

DPMR: Cross your legs like this: (demonstrates)

Me: Aw HELL to the no.

DPMR: You work out on an elliptical, right? And you run the stairs here?

Me: Yep.

DPMR: You're a moron. It's piriformis syndrome. Quit running the stairs. And do these stretches. And use a heating pad and NSAIDs.

Me: scream

If there were a Twitter tag for this entire month, it would be #tinyscream.

As the topper, I think one of the docs that I like best is leaving the stroke program. I'm not sure yet, having only heard the most whispered of rumors, but I'm worried.

Kentucky is gorgeous, though, as is Missoula. I could move, right? Right? Even with my sore butt and my worn-to-a-nubbin temper?