A Pathologist Keeps Up With “I Love Lucy”– and Pen-Demonium Ensues

The Candy Line keeps Lucy and Ethel busy.

It is a classic. Lucy and Ethel, working faster and faster to wrap chocolate candies as the little morsels come shooting down the assembly line.

“If any get by you, you’re fired,” the boss has told the gals.

So to keep up with the speeding line, Lucy and Ethel sweep the candies into their mouths, their hats, and as a last resort, their blouses.

And then the boss walks back in, notices that no candies are escaping the girls, and calls to the man running the line “Speed it up, Paul.” Yes, the hamster wheel never stops…it just gets faster.

I suspect most surgical pathologists feel that they are on that wheel at times. I know on some days I do. The histotechs and cytotechs bring me stacks of slide trays. I grab the top tray and review each slide, carefully preparing my reports. And when I turn back to the stack it has only grown. My techs must have crept silently into the office to add a prostate case here, some bladder biopsies there, and more cytology everywhere.

Unlike Lucy and Ethel, we pathologists can’t hide slides in our hats or swallow them whole. Each slide, each case, and each patient needs as much undivided attention as we can provide. At least most of us are self-motivated enough that we don’t need a boss on our backs threatening to fire us.

I have to admit that some of the hamster wheel feelings are self-imposed. I work hard to get my slides all reviewed by a particular time of day. After that time the transmission of impulses from my retinas to my occipital lobe slows and my scribblings on biopsy worksheets become harder to decipher. A feeling of exhaustion creeps into me. There is only so much caffeine can accomplish…

I have lots of slides in my office, but I have even more pens. There are clickable ballpoints and capped ballpoints. Markers in red and markers in blue. Some with corporate labels, some with vendor labels, and some with labels apropos of nothing. I use them at my desk, at my microscope, and at my back counter–and after I have used one I leave it where it lays. Like chopsticks littering the table after Chinese take-out meal, the pens are everywhere. I just call it pen-demonium. It’s a good thing I have never owned a valuable pen, it would just get lost in the morass. As far as I am concerned, any old pen will do.

What do you have too much of? Let me know at chidoc@post.com

A Family Trip–It’s A Verse Not a Curse!

We’re trying to plan a family trip!

We're trying to plan a family trip
With our kids and our grandkiddies.
How many school days can they skip?
Where should we go, to which cities?

Some winter day's are what we've got
So we want to get some warm air
Cause skiers mostly we are not
No vacation if there's snow there.

Of Cancun and Cabo we have thought.
We've even looked into Miami.
But Mexico might be a little fraught,
And South Florida is just too clammy.

Some think a cruise would fit the bill,
But that's not what we're thinking.
We want to chill round a backyard grill.
Get the grandkids really linking.

And so a house is what we'll choose,
To Orlando we'll be going
A place to chase the winter blues
And forget up north it's snowing.

Mickey and Potter and Buzz Lightyear,
We know the routine, what we'll be seeing.
But it's a place we all hold dear.
"To the Parks," we're all agreeing.

The challenge is what kind of house
And where do we want to get it.
How close should we be, to the Mouse?
Not too far or else we'll regret it.

Should the bathrooms in the house be all ensuite?
How many bedrooms will we be needing?
I want a big kitchen where we can all eat,
"In-house theater" the grandkids are pleading.

A backyard pool is for sure required
And we think it should be heated.
Lots of blow-up rafts will be desired,
And a whirlpool Jacuzzi would complete it.

I'm more confused with every choice
Of online housees we have studied.
We've listened to every reviewer's voice,
Its just made the decision muddied.

So we'll flip a coin or throw a dart
When we finally have to settle.
And we'll be together and not apart
Together a rose having every petal!

Filling My ARC

A few days ago the morning news mentioned that there were 74 days left until Christmas. Doing some simple math, I determined that meant there were 80 days left until my retirement.

The nearness of Retirement Day to Christmas Day got me thinking–if I had an Advent Retirement Calendar (ARC), what would it look like? What would be behind each of the 80 doors that I would open before I turn off my Olympus BX43 microscope for the last time?

I am sure the first few doors would open up to my education. Doors for an undergraduate curriculum balancing STEM courses I survived (physics, quadratic equations, quantum mechanics) with literature courses I loved (Russian Lit, Female Writers of the 20th Century, The British Novel.)

Flip open some doors for the four years of medical school. The first year when all I learned in those tough undergrad science courses put me at the top of the class; the next three years when I discovered that patient care wasn’t for me, but that I might find my way as a pathologist.

Night school gets its own door as I left Barb with two young kids, two nights a week, so I could study for my MBA. I came away with a diploma, an award, and some finance and management concepts to help guide me. Barb survived as well.

So many doors to open for my 22 years at a community hospital, climbing the ladder until the floor underneath disappeared and the whole thing toppled. A door for my mentor from whom I learned what to do and how to not behave while doing it. A door for my associate there, whose T-shirt read “Though Shalt Not Hassle.” A door or two for the “academic” pathology group that first embraced me and then discarded me while assuring me it was nothing personal.

Many more doors for my next step, the lab that I built from nothing more than a notion in some urologist’s minds, modeling it after all I had known before. Doors for the business consultants and the early believers who got the engine running, and more doors for all who climbed aboard the train as we chugged along to excellence. The riders on that locomotive knew my real door, the door to my office, was always open.

Doors for all the inspections I endured at my lab, and all the inspections I inflicted on other labs. Hopefully, things were learned by all parties along the way.

Doors for my lab companions who passed away during our shared careers and have never left my mind: Earl, Ramji, and Al at my first stop, Cindy and Paul at my second. You have all been missed.

Doors for the cherished automobiles I powered down the tollway — perhaps a quarter of a million miles since 2005.

And of course doors for my family and friends who were always with me and supportive, through busy days and sleepless nights.

I trust I have filled up my ARC. And I trust whatever lies ahead will be just as amazing.

We Got Hacked. Does Anyone Want to Buy a Blu-Ray, Cheap?

Our unwanted Disney Movie Club Blu-Ray Discs

Every cloud has a silver lining, right?

So when Barb’s credit card was hacked something good had to come of it!

It started with a fraud alert from Capital One—you know, the company that has Jennifer Garner (trying to be cute) and Samuel L. Jackson (trying to be cuddly) asking what’s in YOUR wallet. The alert, timed at 1:27 AM on a recent Monday morning, asked if Barb had just purchased a subscription to Disney Movie Club.

Disney Movie Club sounds fun, but I was pretty sure Barb had been sleeping soundly next to me at 1:27 AM. And since she is not prone to sleepwalking (or sleep buying) I was pretty confident she hadn’t placed this order. Barb’s account number had been (dramatic music) hacked.

I responded to the fraud alert and was soon chatting with a Capital One agent. After we went through my mother’s maiden name, my high school mascot, and my shoe size he assured me the charge would be credited, Barb’s card number would be canceled, and a new card would be issued to her. He did warn me to keep an eye on my account just in case the hacker had made any other charges before the number was canceled.

Sure enough, when I checked later in the day, I discovered someone had signed us up for Ancestory.com. Another call to Capital One canceled that one. Hoping this was all behind us, we took off for our planned San Diego vacation.

And five days later we returned to…5 blu-ray discs from Disney and a message from Capital One telling us that they had decided the order was not fraud, and we would be rebilled. Oy.

My third call to Capital One. I reminded the agent that it was their own algorithm that had identified this as fraud. We had not ordered the discs, did not want, the discs, and would not pay for the discs. Isn’t that what their vaunted fraud protection was all about?

The Capital One agent said he didn’t have time to argue and recredited the account. I rated him 5 stars.

I also called Disney to cancel our “membership” in the Disney Movie Club. The agent checked the records and told me the membership had been canceled the day before. I don’t know how that happened, but I rated her 5 stars too.

So now we have 5 blu-ray discs that we will probably never watch. It’s not quite the jackpot of free airline tickets, but they will make great Hannukah stocking stuffers–unless someone wants to make us an offer…

For We Jews–Fond Feelings for Holiday Food

Sept 28, 2022

Rosh Hashannah has just passed. For those of you who are unfamiliar with “Rosh,” it is the Jewish New Year. I can’t tell you why the Jewish New Year is celebrated sometimes in September and sometimes in October any more than I can tell you why Chinese New Year is in February. I can tell you this is now year 5783 in the Jewish calendar. Again, don’t ask me why. I would have to Google the explanation just like you would.

Many Jews spend part of Rosh Hashannah in a temple, a synagogue, or another edifice where people can gather, pay their respects to their God, commit to living a better life in the coming year, and gossip about what the lady in the third row is wearing. A rabbi will sermonize and mighty sounds will be blown from the shofar, a hollow ram’s horn. Some temples keep an EMT on hand in case either the rabbi or the shofar blower passes out from over-exhalation of hot air.

If you notice the rabbi checking their watch as the service drones on, you know their spouse has warned them–be sure to let the congregation out in time to prepare dinner.

While 50% of Jews pray on Rosh Hashannah, 99% feast. The evening meal is celebrated with family, extended family, and almost family. Without the dietary restrictions of Passover (that pesky no flour rule,) traditional Jewish culinary dishes can be prepared and offered without limit.

Wine, challah, apples, and honey usher in the meal. Chicken soup — homemade of course — is a required opener. At the house chef’s discretion and preferred preparation method, the soup’s matzah balls (the one holdover from Passover seder) may be small and dense cannonballs or light and fluffy pillows.

And then–we have the meat! Brisket. We have the chicken! Roasted. We have the potatoes! Mashed, boiled, baked. The empty spots on the table are soon covered with salads, veggies, and Jello. No cruise ship’s unlimited buffet can compete with the largesse on the Rosh Hashannah table.

Do we have desserts? Cakes filled with apple and cinnamon. Assorted cookies and pies, ala mode for the kids. Everything except for pumpkin spice!

And for the more observant among us, there is a repeat of the feast the next night at someone else’s mother-in-law’s house.

Those two nights have passed. We are in the 10-day period between Rosh Hashannah and Yom Kippur, the Day of Repentance. In shul on Yom Kippur we will admit our sins and pray for forgiveness. To emphasize the seriousness of our atonement we will fast until sundown.

And then we will again gather at some relative’s home and celebrate. How? With a break-fast meal, of course. After all, we’re Jewish!

Pumpkin Spice Ain’t Very Nice

The calendar will tell you. But who needs to look at one to know that fall is now with us.

The signs are all around us. The temperature is falling so quickly that the anchor on the morning news jokes with the weather person about wind-chill factors. I wear a light jacket for the short walk from the parking lot to the lab. My radio selection has switched from sports radio to NPR as the White Sox take their annual tumble and the Bears begin another season of no distinction. Tollway billboards tout multiple haunted houses, each claiming to be more horrific than the rest.

But the sign of autumn that genuinely sends shivers through my heart? Pumpkin spice time is here.

Some brief research indicates that pumpkin spice is a mixture of cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, allspice, and cloves. No, there is no pumpkin in there, the name is derived from the use of the mix in flavoring pumpkin pie and other pumpkin products.

Pumpkin spice is to me what Christmas is to Ebeneezer Scrooge. It’s all bah-humbug. The odor of pumpkin spice products annoys me and the flavor would probably annoy me even more–that is if I ever would try a pumpkin spice offering. Slim chance of that occurring!

Fortunately, the bag of pumpkin-spice-flavored-yogurt-covered-pretzels on the table in the lab breakroom (quite a mouthful) was unopened when I sat down for my pumpkin-spice-free breakfast of peanut butter and blueberries toast this morning.

But I suspect that pumpkin spice-flavored Coffee Mate will be appearing on the countertop soon. Smiley-faced cookies and bright orange doughnuts, all with that distinct taste and aroma, will follow in short order. I will suffer silently and pray that no one comes into my office with a Starbucks pumpkin spice latte. I’d far prefer to be frightened by the grim reaper in a haunted house than face that!

And the worst news of all? If autumn is here—then winter is coming!

We Played Airline Bingo and We Won!

The bingo game started at the beginning of the year. Our daughter Laury let us know that she and her family would be renting a house in Hilton Head, South Carolina for a week in June. Barb and I politely suggested that if they upgraded to a slightly larger house we would be happy to join them. A first-time visit to Hilton Head for us, some extra babysitters for them. Perfect plan!

The kids agreed and located the perfect house. Barb and I booked seats on the same XYZ Airline non-stop flight to Savannah as the kids. So far so good.

We hit a bump on the runway in February. While Barb and I were visiting several transplanted Chicagoans in the Phoenix area, Laury messaged us that the details for our Savannah flight had changed. Our voyage now included a 30-minute layover and plane change en route. Laury felt this was undoable with a toddler and an infant, even with grandparent assistance.

After some back and forth, we all decided it made sense to drive instead of fly. Laury’s family’s tickets had been booked with XYZ miles, so a refund was easy for them. Not so simple for us, since we had paid for our tickets. As it was the airline that had initiated the flight changes, XYZ agreed to let us cancel without penalty, but would only give us an airline credit, not a cash refund. So there we were with a decent-sized credit for an airline that we rarely used,

But then an opportunity to use the credit knocked on our theater door. We learned that A Beautiful Noise, the Neil Diamond bio-play, would be having its worldwide debut in Boston over the summer. Since no Broadway dates had been announced, we decided this was our best chance to see the new play, based on the life of Barb’s musical idol. We bought theater tickets, booked a hotel for a weekend in June, and used our airline credits for the flight to Bean Town (or is it Beantown?)

But wouldn’t you know it, shortly after everything was booked and in place the producers announced that the New York run of A Beautiful Noise would begin in the fall. Boston is nice, but Broadway is Broadway so we decided to skip the Cradle of Liberty and plan a November anniversary (our 44th) weekend in the Big Apple. We put our Boston theater tickets up for sale on StubHub, and converted our airline flight from Boston Logan to NYC LaGuardia.

Confused yet? To recap, after two major itinerary changes, we were fairly even with the airline. But then something good happened. Barb and I both received a message from the airline telling us that the airline was revamping its credits program and each of us had a full travel credit remaining. We felt as if we had passed go and collected $200. The only kicker was the credit had to be used for travel beginning no later than January 5, 2023.

Our schedule is fairly packed between now and the end of the year so we didn’t see any way to add a new trip. But then we realized that on January 4th we are scheduled to fly to Florida for a week-long visit with some snowbird friends. And THOSE tickets on United Airlines were booked with miles, so they could be easily canceled and our miles refunded.

We spent an hour or so toggling between two computers, switching our flights to use our Airline XYZ travel credits. We reclaimed our United miles and high-fived each other for a job well done. As far as we can figure out, we just got a free flight to Florida.

Maybe from now on, I won’t bitch so much at XYZ Airlines!

Did You Dance? The My Fair Lady Project Part 7: I Could Have Danced All Night.

Read the blog–and then tell me about your favorite dance song, or dance movie!

This is episode 7 of our My Fair Lady project, using a title or lyric from each song in the original Broadway cast album to inform or inspire a blog post.

What makes you want to dance? What gets you out on the floor, swaying to the music or shaking whatever bodypart you like to shake?

Do you dance out of sheer joy, like Eliza does after her little celebration with Higgins and Pickering? Do you only dance at special events? Weddings are always a good time for twisting to oldies, jiving to Motown, snaking past the tables in a Conga, or circling the newly married in a whirling dervish of a hora.

Where did you pick up your moves? Are you self-taught? Do you watch a lot of videos or TikTok demos? Do you practice, practice, practice in the mirror till every move is perfect?

What is your favorite dance movie? Are you a fan of the classics: The Red Shoes, Singin’ in the Rain? Or did you grow up tapping your toes in the movie theater watching Flashdance, Footloose, or Dirty Dancing? Did Tom Cruise dancing in his underwear in Risky Business turn you on?

Then there are films from Broadway shows with great dance numbers: A Chorus Line and West Side Story (version 1 or 2) come to mind, but there are many, many more. In contrast, The Black Swan is the rarest of the rare–the creepy dance movie. I still shudder every time I think of it.

Now for the hard part. Can you pick your favorite dance song? There are so many, that my head is spinning as if it were on a spike on a DJ’s turntable. Are you a Dancing Queen with ABBA or are you Dancing in the Dark with Bruce and Courteney? Do you Twist and Shout with the Beatles or do you do The Twist, and then Twist Again, with Chubby Checker?

Do you turn up the volume on Land of a Thousand Dances when you do the Pony with Bony Maroni? Or do you love to Dance the Night Away with Van Halen? And when you are tired of all that rocking–do you take it easy and become a Waltzing Matilda?

What does it for you? Comment on the post, on Facebook, or send an email to chidoc@post.com. And then DANCE, DANCE, DANCE!

This is episode 7 of our My Fair Lady project, using a title or lyric from each song in the original Broadway cast album to inform or inspire a blog post.

Previous Posts in the series:

My Fair Lady Project Part 1: Overture
My Fair Lady Project Part 2: Why Can’t the English
My Fair Lady Project Part 3: Wouldn’t It be Loverly
My Fair Lady Project Part 4: I’m An Ordinary Man
My Fair Lady Project Part 5: Just You Wait

My Fair Lady Project Part 6: The Rain in Spain

Remember our email address is now chidoc@post.com

What Is YOUR Favorite Weather Song? The My Fair Lady Project Part 6: The Rain in Spain

This is episode 6 of our My Fair Lady project, using a title or lyric from each song in the original Broadway cast album to inform or inspire a blog post.

The rain blanketing Chicagoland coincides with the next song in our project. The Rain in Spain is a celebratory song, as Higgins, Liza, and Colonel Pickering dance and sing with joy as Liza conquers the vowels of proper English. But “weather songs” can highlight a variety of moods and feelings.

Listen to the live version of REO Speedwagon’s Ridin’ the Storm Out. The opening wailing claxon takes us away to the isolation of a frightening snowstorm in Colorado. But the song isn’t about the inconvenience of being snowed in; instead, it celebrates being tied into nature — the mountains, the snow, the moon. It’s a 1970s version of getting off the grid. though admittedly, you’d best not be staying at the Overlook Hotel in those conditions!

Need a weather love song? How about one from Rod Stewart? Not the Do Ya Think I’m Sexy Rod, or the later day Great American Song Book Rod. Let’s go way back to the Every Picture Tells a Story Rod and listen to Side 2, Track 3. Yuo’ll be hearing the lovely Mandolin Wind. Rain, snow, and “the coldest winter in almost 14 years” can’t drive the song’s two lovers apart.

Probably not more than a soggy handful of songs celebrate lightening. A pair that come to mind are the 60s Lou Christie classic Lightning Strikes (followed up by more of Lou’s falsetto in the deluge of Rhapsody in the Rain) and U2’s atmospheric Electrical Storm. Unless you are a U2 fan like I am, you might have missed that last one, but you can check it out here.

Maybe you enjoy sunny songs. There are certainly plenty of those, from Cream’s Sunshine of Your Love to Katrina and the Waves’ Walking on Sunshine. And don’t it feel good!

Some passing mentions for Elvis’s Kentucky Rain, The Cowsills’ The Rain, The Park and Other Things and the Carpenters’ Rainy Days and Mondays–they don’t ALWAY get me down!

My favorite weather song? It isn’t cheery and it isn’t a love song. But listening to The Doors’ Riders on the Storm sends me back to my senior year in high school, a year when so many permanent impressions were made. The lyrics are creepy (one verse IS about a mass murderer) but I was young and all of life was still ahead.

So in snow or rain or in the gloom of night…what is your favorite weather song? List one or list a bunch, and tell me why. And maybe I will see you all in on a rainy plain in Spain.

This is episode 6 of our My Fair Lady project, using a title or lyric from each song in the original Broadway cast album to inform or inspire a blog post.

Previous Posts in the series:

Remember our email address is now chidoc@post.com

The My Fair Lady Project Part 5: Just You Wait.

The Queen, Eliza Doolittle, and I all loved our chocolates.

“And no chocolates!”

Following this threat from Henry Higgins, Eliza Doolittle directs her deliciously wicked song of revenge–culminating in a public execution–at her mentor.

And who can blame the budding flower girl?

I have written before of my own chocolate desires: My love of chocolate-covered orange peels, a treat that Barb plies me with on every birthday, anniversary, and Father’s Day, and sometimes just because. The jar of Hershey’s Kisses that is still almost half-full, a monument to self-restraint.

And many of you remember my quest for the mini-Snickers Ice Cream Bars. I have finally resigned myself to the notion these 90-calorie treats are no longer available. At last, I have broken down and purchased a box of regular-size bars at my favorite Woodman’s Market. Yes, I plan to slice each one in half and spread the joy of eating each over two evenings. A good test of willpower!

And then there is Lindt. Three years ago, when I described my daily diet to a nutritionist, I mentioned that I ate several squares from a Lindt Chocolate Bar daily. In view of my bulging waistline (the reason for my appointment) she suggested I “say goodbye to Mr. Lindt.” I haven’t completely said so long, but a bar that used to last for two days now lasts for two weeks. Sadly, my waistline hasn’t seemed to notice.

And since My Fair Lady is set in London, it is only right on this day that we look across the pond and remember Queen Elizabeth II. The Queen was very fond of her chocolates. Rose and Violet Creams purchased at London’s Charbonnel et Walker and priced at $50 for a box of 25 were said to be among her favorites. And a bit of history, as a Princess, Elizabeth was given the only chocolate bar made from beans grown in the United Kingdom.

Perhaps chocolate contributed to the Queen’s longevity. It has certainly contributed to my weight. And dear Liza was so right to be angry at Higgins for cutting her off. How dare he. A public execution sounds just about right!

This is episode 4 of our My Fair Lady project, using a title or lyric from each song in the original Broadway cast album to inform or inspire a blog

Previous Posts in the series:

My Fair Lady Project Part 1: Overture

My Fair Lady Project Part 2: Why Can’t the English

My Fair Lady Project Part 3: Wouldn’t It be Loverly

My Fair Lady Project Part 4: An Ordinary Man