Special booby prize

The longer I've been in Ireland, the less I've celebrated Paddy's day. I don't know if that's a product of me needing to be more responsible, of the time of year it falls, or of me just being old.

Two years ago, I was in Cavan on Paeds and spent the day studying... Mary and I did catch the tail end of the town parade and grabbed a few pints before cashing in.

Last year, the impending doom of exams had me staying in... And watching the entire boxed set of Father Ted while studying.

This year, I was balled up on the couch, dreading the fact that I was on call last night and suffering from a bout of food-poisoning, or noro, or repulsion.

I can't decide if what I had was food-poisoning or a 24hr bug. I did eat lunch in the canteen in Drog on Wed and exactly 8 hours later I was returning said food to the toilet. One point in favour of food-poisoning. But then again, I've been exceptionally stressed out the past two weeks. It's possible my weakened little immune system... wait, no, my hardened, over worked, super exposed immune system just kinda gave up. The good news is that I survived call in spite of vomiting up to about 4 hours before going on call, I did manage a small bowl of cereal before leaving for work, and I rehydrated without needing an IV bolus (though, Ben, I really was seriously considering it).

And now, post-call, post-ickiness, post "grown-up" Paddy's day, I get to start my week off... The only advantage of being on call yesterday night, I have Friday day off. Let the recovery begin.

Now accepting suggestions for de-stressing activities next week...

And in parting, here's a picture of the random ferris wheel outside my house. Oh the stuff that happens on Paddy's day.