daines'n around

This whole beard thing is starting to itch more than I thought it would, but I haven't given up just yet. Give it to the end of the long weekend I suppose.

I've been cleaning my room up, throwing away last semester's scraps of notes and scribbles of nonsense. I found one note that simply read: "Intimacy is the key ___" with some scribbling as if the pen had run out of ink.

I've also gone through the first four days of photographs, and found one that I thought I’d share already. IT was my volunteer day in the Operating Room. I took well over three hundred pictures in my time helping out in the operating room, and saw some things that I will never likely see again in my life.

I became accustomed to wearing the scrubs around the hospital in Ayacucho, and thought that I looked quite doctor-ish. I took the liberty to express my doctor-like feelings and one of the nurses laughed at me.

"Doctor, no. Orderly, easily."

I have no idea why she didn't think I looked like a doctor; maybe because of my silly grin every time I said scrubs, or how I ran away from the cesarean section after the baby was pulled out. I had no desire to see anything else come out of that poor woman.

Doctor Daines anyone?