After rounding yesterday morning at the hospital I decided to do some of the random everyday errands that can only be accomplished between 9am and 5pm. These haven't exactly been hours available to me during my surgical rotation. Luckily, the bank and various other places have hours on Saturday. After rumaging around the city for a couple hours I found myself at the local pet shop so that I could pick up food for my poor neglected cat who ran out of cat food a day ago (don't feel too bad for him, he's been subsisting on tuna quite well). After getting the deluxe 50lb bag of cat food and enough toys to clear my conscience for leaving Cat home alone so often I stopped to see the adult cats from the animal shelter at the front of the store. I've been thinking of getting another cat to keep Cat company during the day and I'd rather get an older feline that has less chance of being adopted by others. I was playing with a cute black cat when a very pleasant middle aged woman came up and struck up a conversation with me. I was in my scrubs and Medschool affiliated jacket so it was pretty easy to guess that I'm on surgery right now. Her daughter is a trama surgery fellow somewhere in the South, who apparently loves her job and couldn't imagine doing anything else. This very nice lady went on to say that her very pretty, funny, and wonderful daughter who I apparently 'reminded her of' was wasting her life as a cat lady with three cats, no husband, and an unhealthy number of work hours. I was firmly cautioned that I should find myself a man, go into something 'less demanding' and not get another cat. As funny as the encounter was, it sums up nicely some of my worries about choosing surgery as a specialty: I really don't wan't to end up as the cat lady.
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