Wild Horses and Border Collies

It is not uncommon for people to get delirious while in the hospital (I am talking patients here, doctors and nurses hopefully stay oriented, for the most part). And a surprisingly common request occurs with the confusion colloquially known as sundowning: "Call The Sheriff!"

I sometimes wonder if my job would not be easier if I went to sheriff school and got to wear a gold star on the lapel of my white coat. Thus could I ride in on my white horse to the rescue. "Why I am the sheriff Ma'am. Now why don't you just take those antibiotics and get a good night's sleep?"

A good night's sleep. That is the key to everything that matters. It does worry me a bit that I have not had one for about 16 years (beginning of med school, first child).

I finally got my mileage up to around 60 miles/week. The running feels good, but then I hit this little snag called a 70 hour work week and man was I fried. I successfully ran in the morning before work the first few days, but then the fatigue kicked my ass and by Saturday, it was all I could do to get up and make coffee. Sunday though I started to feel alive, and ran. And find myself with 2 new aches in my foot.

Wow that was a lot of whining.

I bet the sheriff never whines. And, aside from my incredibly attentive husband, it has been a very long time since anyone has ridden in on a white horse to save me.

So what does one do to find balance, that peculiarly modern quest of the relatively well to do?
One could start by not running marathons and ultras. Ha.
One could start by choosing a less insane professional life. Ha ha.
Wild horses couldn't drag me away from either.

I just need to sleep more. And to ice my foot. And to eat better. And to cuddle my dogs. And to stop whining.

Buster says "Stop your whining and take me for a walk!"