I was hating on the nurse today. "Rough night," she says as I walk into the ICU. "A hard day's night." Thanks for the Beatles reference, ASSHOLE. How about, "Good morning," and then going to the lead. I bitched to the dr., who claims she is in fact a good nurse, which she must be, b/c otherwise how would people put up with her?

Anywho, just another place for my freefloating anxiety to land. I think tomorrow I'll get my eyebrows waxed, and maybe Tues. I'll get my hair colored.

Also? Should I really be the one suggesting the heart rate is a teensy bit low? Which the doctor agreed with? And suggested atropine? Only a few more boxtops for that medical degree I've been wanting, I guess.