Staring at the computer screen

Like many of y'all out there, I spend at least eight hours a day working on a computer, so when I don't have much to say it gets tough to make myself sit down in front of the screen yet again and blog. For the past three days, I've been working on specs. See, architects make two kinds of documents for use in building a building: drawings and specifications. The drawings show what a wall is made of, how big it is, and how far apart the walls are in a building. The specifications, or specs, as we call them in da biz, are documents (written in Word, for example) which explain what brand or kind of drywall (gypsum board in da biz) to use, how we wants the joints taped, what brand(s) of metal studs are okay to use in the wall, how we want surfaces treated before you install something, how much bowing or warping is acceptable in a piece of drywall or wood, etc. You need both drawings and specs to make a project complete. So, I've been working on the specs for the procedure suite so that Jann can review them and make sure I didn't change anything she wouldn't allow.

Oh, hell, I haven't even mentioned the Medical Trials of Sarge lately. Back in late May, Sarge had a wisdom tooth removed, and unbeknownst to him, it got hella bad infected. Having not had a whole lot of surgery ever in his life, much less oral surgery, he didn't think too too much of the swelling in his face. When he returned to his oral surgeon for his one-week checkup, the doctor walked into the exam room, shut the door, and said, "You're going into surgery tonight." Didn't look in his mouth, nothing; just proclaimed him ready for the table. Turns out by the time they got in to drain the infection, Sarge was about a half hour away from needing a tracheotomy, as the swelling was starting to close up his throat. So, instead of relaxing on his vacation-at-home a couple of weeks ago, he spent three nights in the hospital. Then he cam back to work with a PICC line in his arm for the antibiotics and a huge gauze patch on his jaw where the incision was still draining.

Here's where I notice something about men and women:

In my experience, most men can watch gory horror flicks but get squeamish at the sight of real blood. Most women, however, seem to be the opposite. Guy watched The Exocist with no problem and no side effects, while I had nightmares for at least two weeks afterwards. Meanwhile, everytime a surgery show comes on TV, Guy has to change the channel whil I'm sitting there, munching on lasagna and pointing at the screen saying, "Now that looked infected. Good thing they took it out in pieces, though."

So, Sarge shows up with tales of how much infection the doctor drained out and how he drained it and flashing his gauze patch, and all the guys around me (Derek, Elliot, and Norman) are practically falling out of their chairs, goosepimply, twitching, and dry-heaving. At the same time, I'm standing there wanting to poke the incision with a stick to see if anything else comes out. Alas, Sarge woudn't let me do the pokey thing and I had to settle for staring with intrigue at the dark stain forming in the gauze.

Pixie: Ooooh, your incision is leaking goo!!

Sarge: Is it? Damn, I gotta clean it and repack it when I get home.

Pixie: Clean? Repack? Ooh! Ooh! Ooh! [waving my hand frantically] If you have to clean it before you leave the office, I wanna help!

Sarge: [edging away slowly] You're creepy.

So Sarge has been busier than a cat covering crap on a marble floor due to playing catch-up from all the extra medical time he's missing by having to go get a fresh injection of antibiotics for his PICC line every morning. I've actually been pleasantly busy this week now that the procedure suite has been cut loose. Busy's not bad, as it helps pass the time. Alas, it's all passing while I sit in front of my computer screen.