First off, here's some visual variety and a chance to build the suspense. My friend John Barger took this photo of me at the hospital last week. I really like it although one does wonder about my slightly disconjugate gaze.
So, last night, I went to bed and found myself thinking that no one was really talking with me. The thinking part of my brain pointed out that that was stupid (it's sophisticated that way) because I am surrounded by people who talk with me. Then I started to think more deeply about what I meant by that and realized that there is a certain type of communication that I am not getting and feel the lack of: the doctor/patient stuff where I am on the doctor end. People have asked me if I missed work before and I can agree intellectually that I do and certainly I miss my co-workers and my patients (and worry about them), but last night at bedtime, for the first time since going on leave, I felt that I missed work.
I went on leave June 15, 2012 and yesterday was August 10. It officially took me eight weeks and one day to miss work. Who won the kitty?