Guess what's under MY couch.

Interesting house call yesterday. It was the first place where I was scared to sit on the couch offered to me but much scared-er to put my bag of equipment on the floor. I know not everyone can get help with house cleaning, especially older, shut-in patients. Wearing my long white coat with my name-comma-MD embroidered on it made me think my butt was impervious to any body fluid on the couch, so I sat down anyway. The guy was a real jokester/talker so the appointment took about double the allotted 45 minutes.  First he asked if I was really a doctor. Yes. So I must know what it's called when they cut out your appendix. I said appendectomy.  He asked what it's called when they cut out your tonsils.  I said a tonsilectomy.  He asked what it's called when they cut something off your head. I said, "a head-ectomy?--okay I give up. " He said, "a haircut." He didn't wait for my laugh. He cracked himself up.

Half way through my extensive questionnaire he told me I would never guess what  3 little pets were hiding under the couch. I reminded him I was bit by a dog last week. He said they were hiding and I would never see them. I surmised it was a tougher answer than a cat or dog so I said ferret or snake. He laughed at me. He said skunks. He said he'd rescued three tiny babies when their mother got hit by a car.  He took the little ones to the vet who de-scented them.  (Is that really a thing?) He said one is albino, one is all black and one is black and white. And he said they follow him around like kittens.  I was starting to worry that rather than concern that I was sitting on body fluids on the couch, I was probably catching skunk fleas or aerosolized rabies. (That's NOT a thing.)

The last story he wanted to relate was about a time the game warden visited. (I didn't ask why a game warden was visiting but wondered if it was because neighbors reported skunks in his house.)  Anyway, while the warden was there, they heard a big plop and went out back and saw that a big bird had dropped a salmon on the doorstep.  The dude said he took it in, cleaned it and put in the fridge.  He asked the warden if he would get a ticket for fishing without a license.  He said the warden cleared him as it was the bird who was fishing, not the dude.  At this point, I don't know if the dude is pulling my leg or not.  I was so happy not to meet the skunks that I finished up the visit and let myself out the door.

What surprises will today hold?

On the Road Again.......

I didn't blog last April's travels (2016) because I was too busy eating ceviche every day at a different beach cantina on Holbox, Mexico after hiking through the jungles of Yucatan to Chichen Itza. I saved a paper folder of pics and stories to tell later.

This year (2017) our travels encompassed visiting Home Depot on February break and painting our house up a storm despite the flu and sleeping every other hour.  For April break, I was working in Oxford County so Judd came for a hotel vacation and we "hit the Oxford Casino."  i.e. we put in one dollar for each kid on the nickel machine and when Ryley's dollar made $5, we immediately "reinvested" and lost it. Then we each each played a hand of Spanish 21 - like Black Jack but with the 10s taken out of the deck (for $10 each hand) and immediately lost $20.  We deemed it "not that fun" and tried to walk out of the place with our Oxford Casino engraved wine glasses.  The nice bouncer at the door said, 'you can't leave with those....'

The work that brings me to western Maine is working as an independent contractor for a company that sells my time to various insurance companies to do Annual Wellness Visits in people's homes. That's a Medicare screening/health care advice template with a mini-exam thrown in.
https://www.cms.gov/Outreach-and-Education/Medicare-Learning-Network-MLN/MLNProducts/downloads/AWV_chart_ICN905706.pdf

The company rented me a car and a swanky Hampton Inn as home base so I can do visits every day for a week without making the 75min drive home. This has inherent pros and cons.  Sure my floors are immaculate and I get control of the TV clicker, but there's no Judd, no garden, no sunsets on the lake. 

And then there's the work.  It's not physically taxing-- I can get in and out of the car 10 times and drive criss crossed-ly across roads I don't know, although it will be less charming for the next  3 days when it rains non-stop. The hard part is not knowing, hour to hour, what will be behind the next door. The first day I got bit by a dog. A nice old man put his three ankle biters, as he called them, behind a door and they yapped loudly through the whole exam. Between the din and the hard of hearing, I had to yell the screening questions.  Then as we were finishing up and I was packing my bag, the man said, "Oh, I'll let them out to say hello since you're leaving now," and the little devil dogs ran right at me barking and yipping. The ring leader bit me on the foot:  two puncture wounds with a big bruise in between. I sterilized  my wounds with Purrell (THAT stings) and found two bandaids in my purse to get me through the next two visits. Despite soaking it, icing it, elevating it and ibuprofening it, I was still mightily ticked off the next morning AND now skittish of clients with dogs, no matter how "good" their owner claims them to be. When I called my company to report the incident, the ditz on the phone didn't seem to know why I'd report it.  I said, "You know, in case I get rabies or my foot gets gangrene and falls off in the next week." She said, "OH!"