I looked up at this sign while in the elevator on the way up to my cardiologist's office. [This was shortly before I ran into two of the Family Medicine residents and one of the Psychiatry attendings I worked with at Brackenridge. I swear I can't go anywhere in this city.] Comforting, right? Although I am not on immunosuppressant therapy, nor am I anxiously awaiting the transplant of some vital organ or another, I would hope that whatever surprises await in the insulation of this building have been kid tested and mother approved (and safe for my young, viable 24-year old lungs).
On another note, during the aforementioned appointment with my cardiologist I reached into my purse to silence my cell phone and apparently she caught sight of the sea of objects surrounding my roaming little fingers. She also thought it was odd that I had a box of Hello Kitty bandaids and a koozie in my purse (which I occasionally refer to as my "bag of tricks"). Little did she know that I also had an umbrella, hand sanitizer, a notepad, gum, my Brackenridge badge, my pager (which is now dead...oops), several writing utensils, and a mini bottle of Skyy vodka that I may or may not have gotten from a snowman pinata several months ago. Clearly she was never a Girl Scout.
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