Friday, October 12, 2007


So I'm lying on the floor the other day, getting mauled by Ella, and Jeopardy is on in the background. I'm kind of half paying attention and realize that I am questioning all of the answers correctly. I normally average about one in ten, so naturally I'm feeling pretty good about myself. About then is when I noticed that all of the contestants were little kids. I'm not talking Teen Jeopardy, this was Kids Week. These snot-nosed little brats can't even wipe their own butts, but they know more than I do. Now is a good time to point out that I wasn't getting all of the questions right, just more than normal. After that experience I made it a point to try and watch the rest of the week in order to make myself feel intelligent. On Friday, the finale, I was back to my usual one in ten correct, I'll be honest, I was a little frustrated. I would have heartily lost regular jeopardy, then double jeopardy started. I've heard that you can judge an individuals character by the way that they speak i.e., the quality of language they use. I'm not going to lie, I cleaned up during double Jeopardy and I let those little pukes know it. I'm probably the only person to scream at little kids (whilst they were on a television game show) and rub in their faces that I am smarter than they are. I also informed them that I could beat them up if it came to it. I know, I'm a classy guy, but what can you do?

On a different note, what's with the news in Buffalo?
Since we moved here a little over a year ago, we have heard about the possibility of a "Bass Pro Shop" opening up. I have no idea what makes this so special, but I would compare it to the hype around a new stadium being built in a real city. They have gone back and forth about whether or not is was going to be built no less than ten times. And every time they do it is the number one news story of the month. Most news stations give teasers about big world events or exclusive stories, not in Buffalo. The top story is about a fish store. Not once, not twice, but for several years. Apparently Buffalonians think it's the best thing since sliced bread. Yeah Buffalo.
HOWEVER, the last time I heard about this on the news they did redeem themselves a bit with the next story. Unfortunately it was not a local story, but it was about a teacher that decided it would be a good idea to staple a Post-It note to a fourth-grader's forehead. I don't even need to elaborate on that one.
I teach primary at church (surprising I know, but the church IS true), and I had an interesting experience today. You know how kids say cute little things? Like that church movie, "From the Mouthes of Babes." We had a combined junior and senior primary to practice for the music program. One of the teachers asked a question and one of the little boys repeatedly shouted, "I don't know what the hell that means!". He then told all of the other kids they sucked at singing. I thought it was funny. He's a surly lad.

Tuesday, October 2, 2007

Amazing Healthcare

After Erica delivered our child at the Millard Fillmore Suburban hospital, I did a little research to determine the qualifications needed to work there. Whilst searching I stumbled across this application form on the city's official website:
Needless to say we were unimpressed with the care she received. The first "Dr." we had contact with, a resident (which is fine), almost spoke english. He walked in the room and the first thing I noticed as he walked by was a mole the size and shape of Texas on his arm. I swear one of the hairs on it brushed my nose.
Now, I don't claim to be a doctor, but I am taking a pathology class in which we had to learn the ABCs of when a mole is possibly malignant (Area, Boarder, Color and Diameter). And that nevus is in serious need of attention. The large growth notwithstanding, this fellow seemed ok at first. Then he spoke and I couldn't understand a word he was saying. So we nodded and smiled and figured everything was ok. He then decided that he would do a little ultrasounding to make sure everything looked good. All kidding aside it was at least twenty minutes before he, and three nurses, could figure out how to turn the thing on. Turns out it was the big red ON button on the front of the machine.
The nurse told us he didn't normally work there and that was why he didn't know how to do anything. Oh, goodie, just the guy you want taking care of your pregnant wife. Fortunately, a different, english-speaking, resident (albeit a hippie) came to work with us. As my dear wife already shared, when Dr. hippie broke her water there were some minor complications, and she told us she wanted to bring in another doctor to get a second opinion. Guess who she brings back? None other than Mr Mole. So the two of them poke around for a while, finally settle on the fact that they have no idea what in the sam hell they are doing and decide to bring in another doctor.
I was excited at first when Apu Nahasapeemapetilon walked in because I figured someone had ordered us squishies from the Kwik-E-Mart and he was there to deliver them. Boy was I disappointed when it turned out he was the "real" doctor that was supposed to help. He was filled in on what they didn't know was happening and he called in a few other people to look around. This guy then scares the crap out of Erica and starts telling her that she might need a C-section, but they weren't sure yet and yadda yadda yadda. Ok, so we start thinking that it might go the cesarean way, next thing we know there are numbing her up and having me change in to scrubs. Somewhere along the way "we're going to monitor them for a while" turned in to "let's cut the baby out" without telling us. Fortunately Erica's real doctor came in time to clear everything up.
I won't even start on the nurses Erica had after the birth. How dare we assume that someone should respond after ringing the buzzer thing three times in two hours?
When we took Ruby in for her first check up the doctor left for a minute and in walks this nurse with a handful of syringes. So Erica asks if she is getting shots already and the lady says, "Yep." She continues to prepare whilst my wife and I are trying to figure out what is going on. Then Erica asked her if she was sure Ruby was supposed to get shots already. The lady said, "Yeah, this is Rhabada Shalamaka right?" we told her no, and she laughed and left to wander around the building looking for someone that would let her put needles into their child. I don't think I have ever met so many people with their heads in their rectums in so short a time. I love Buffalo.