Paging Dr. Kym...

Yeah, my patients will always have that look on their face, too. Unfortunately, I will probably always have that same confused look on my face. I will just have to dye my hair blond and let everyone call me Dr. Barbie, too. Not! I prefer Dr. Kym...Crazy Medical Chick!

Yeah, so I'm pretty hyped up right now. Maybe I need to deflate my swelled head before I type this blog, but here we go anyways...

Bottom line? I really, really want to be a doctor. I have this need to do something good for somebody else with my own two hands. I want to heal people. I think I could handle all the blood and guts, but I just don't know how I'll do with all the math! I've always had a rough time getting through geography and word problems. I liked Algebra well enough, but when we hit sections in Chemistry that deals with complex Algebra equations, I didn't do so hot. Maybe, if I take one class at a time, and have a tutor (or two) to help me, I could make it through alright. I really loved my Chemistry and Biology classes (sans mathematics). Dissection and lab work was the best part. Growing up, I never believed I could be smart enough to study advanced levels of mathematics or sciences, so I was resigned to become a journalist (I happen to love writing, as if you couldn't tell). When I realized that I would need to be a liberal to be taken seriously at a newspaper or magazine, I gave up that dream.

I had a strong pull toward the medical profession after watching X-file as a teenager, but watching Scrubs as an adult has reactivated my desire. I know that stuff isn't real, but I still have a burning desire to actually try what these actors are pretending to do (minus the creepy space invaders). I've never been afraid to go to the doctor's office and I'm extremely curious about the inner workings of the human body. When the Body Worlds exhibit showed at the AZ Science Center, I just had to go. Like I said, I'm curious. Besides the complicated math, and the lack of time and money, I was worried that I would have a problem with actually seeing blood ooze or squirt out of an injury. Well, I'm inclined to believe that I could handle it after all (at least the oozing; I haven't had a squirting experience yet).

Today, I rang the doorbell at the sitter's house, and I heard a whole lot of barking and high-pitched squealing. I thought it was Ethan reacting to the dogs barking, but it was actually a pregnant dog attacking another female dog (who just happened to be in heat). When I entered the house, the teenager daughter asked me to help her upstairs. She told me what had happened, and I tried to calm her down a bit while I examined the injury. There was a puncture wound on the outside of the dogs front leg, but the worst wound was on the dogs breast, underneath the punctured arm. The poor thing had a T-shaped tear that cleanly cut through the skin and the tissue surrounding the inner cavity of the dog. It was close to where the heart should be. I didn't see the heart, but the dog wasn't gushing blood, so I assumed it was safe to say that her attacker hadn't punctured it. I didn't see any other damage, but I did see something dangling just inside the torn tissues. It was kind of cool to look at, I just felt bad for the poor dog because I knew she was in a lot of pain. She shivered incessantly from her stomach to her feet. We pet her back, put a towel over her, and kept her still as much as possible. I was afraid she was going into shock, but she opened her eyes frequently and I figured that was a good sign.

I was all geared to help sew her up, but stepped aside when more help arrived. The sitter and her older daughters know more about taking care of dog injuries (they had been through this before), so I knew the dog would be in good hands. When I took my cell phone out of my purse, after I pulled out my sunglasses and keys, I found that I had missed three calls. I immediately called my husband and he explained that Tanner's school bus driver had called. I sucked in a deep breath of air, recalled everything that had happened in the past half hour and then realized that I never saw or heard from Tanner the entire time I was at the sitter's. It was because he was at school! I felt like the biggest idiot and moved quickly for the door. The bus arrived at the sitter's house just as I was loading Ethan and Jayden into the car. Talk about perfect timing! I still felt horrible that I forgot about Tanner. Is it common for mothers to forget about their middle child(ren)? I hope not!

My special little Monkey-Bananer-Tanner! I love him so much, but he's the one that challenges me the most. I think he will be one of those teenagers/young men that gets those tattoos, breaks those bones (doing stupid guy-stunts), bullies all the scrawny people and breaks a lot of girls hearts He's going to be like Zach from The Singles Ward. Mark my words people!

To all those moms out there with daughters four years old and younger, I'm apologizing for his appearance in advance. He really is a sweet and cuddly little thing. Oh wait, that might be a problem later on, too. Eeek!