Alright.  Resolution time.  I saw brother Randy’s goals again, so, as usual I looked at him and stole his ideas.  Thievery is the best form of flattery, right?  I suppose I should try to get these down so I can start working on them.  However, I think I should look at last years to see where I failed first. 

<Last years goals>
1.  Weigh less than 185 sometime this year… (done… but now I’m 189.5… yipes)
2.  Learn to juggle 5 balls at the same time for 20+ seconds  (FAILED, though I agree with Randy, dumb goal)
3.  120… (FAILED)
4.  Knock up the ‘ole lady. (done)
5.  Kick the Inservice’s ass.  (done)
6.  Make the best video that I have ever made in my life (done?  see the second video… NINJA RESIDENT!)
7.  Buy a house for the first time ever. (done)
8.  Submit at least 1 short story for publication. (done)
9.  Make a Christmas letter for the year 2008  (done… see my last entry)
10. Find a Church home that I love in Grand Rapids (FAILED, still looking)

Ok.  So now I have to make a new set I guess.

1.  Weigh less than 185 this year (sigh, I think I’m in the worst shape of my life… better make some lofty goals)
2.  Find a Church home
3.  Run 500 miles this year (lofty goal #1 for me, since I’m not a big runner (sorry Randy))
4.  Get a new car
5.  Write a novel from scratch
6.  Write a novel from scratch (this one counts as 2, since that’s a ton of work)
7.  Become the best daddy ever
8.  Read 20 books cover to cover (I have been told that to become an excellent author, you have to read, read, read, read, read.  I like to read, so I don’t think 15 should be too ambitious.
9. Once a month do a thorough overview of some ER topic (gotta stay sharp)
10.  At least 3 Bool hunts for Gwen, and 1 couples vacation this year.

Whew… wow.  That’s-a spicy meat-a ball-a.  I’m not sure where to start, but I guess I better get in a running schedule, since that’s way more than I’m used to doing.

I just got back from my parents in Florida.  It was awesome.  The trip was filled with golf, reading, relaxing, and eating what must have been cocaine filled chocolate eclairs (yes, they were that good).

I never got around to posting my Christmas letter, so, go pull out the twinkling lights and pour that last lumpy glass of Egg Nog.

First Annual Brandt Christmas Letter:

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Twas the night after Christmas ‘07, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, mainly because both Gwen and I were at the hospital taking care of patients.  You see, at the beginning of the year, both of us were still in residency.  These were 3 long years that required a ridiculous amount of time and energy spent in paperwork.  Also, we occasionally had to see patients.

Sometime around December, Gwen and I realized that the end of residency was coming and I would need a job.  Gwen was sure she wanted to do more training (Fellowship) in Geriatrics (old people).  She thus got an interview everywhere she wanted to and visited Florida and Michigan looking at different opportunities.  I also looked into job opportunities in Florida and Michigan, and hit the interview trail.  Gwen ultimately accepted a fellowship position in Geriatrics at Michigan State, which meant I would be able to accept the position.  However, before we would begin any of this, we had to finish residency (residency ended in June).  Thus, with our futures already organized we proceeded to take our beatings for the last few months of residency. 

Gwen, with her infinite wisdom, then realized something.  “Hun,” she said, “isn’t the commute from Saginaw over 3 hours?”  We (meaning she) had realized that we needed to move.  Thus, the Great House Hunt (GHH) of ’08 was begun. 

“The market is terrible,” they said.  “You’ll get whatever house you want,” they said.  After hearing this sage advice, we had three houses bought out right under our noses.  “Sorry,” they said.  Ultimately, we found a house that was mind-blowingly perfect, as well as a ridiculous deal; we bought it before the owners could lower the price for the fourth time.  I was of the opinion that we should start with a small, quaint little house, maybe fix it up a bit, then perhaps sell and move up as our family grew.  Gwen was of the opinion that we should buy a BIG house, one with pretty much every single thing perfect that we could ever want, and then live in the house as the family grew.  As any great marriage counselor knows, the secret is in the compromise.  Thus, we got exactly what Gwen wanted, but it came with a snow-blower, so I was happy.

In February, I received news during one of my shifts.  I was working in the ER (I am an ER doctor, after all) and my cell phone rang.  The voice told me that I had recently placed in the Short Story Competition.  I had almost forgotten about the competition, since I had entered it in August, and it was now February.  Since she was calling, I assumed that I had to be in the top 100, which was kind of cool, since I would then be getting a prize.  I think the people usually got 50 dollars worth of free books.  That, along with being published, is pretty cool.  “I just wanted to call and congratulate you on your short story, ‘The Procedure,’” said the voice.  I was pleased.  “Out of the nearly 7000 entries, you placed first!”

“Wuuurg!” I said, since I was currently unable to make coherent thought.

So I won the competition, and my story got published, and they gave me money and a self-publishing package.  That was quite cool                                                                                                                                                                         

On a sad note, during this time, Grandpa Brandt died.  Grandpa Brandt was pretty much the epitome of a gentleman.  He was always kind, gentle, giving, and so unwaveringly unselfish that he acted as a role model even if not a single other person was there to observe.  He was a great man who I can only hope I someday reach near his level of character.

As Gwen and I had officially moved, we periodically walked around our ridiculously large house and wondered different things.  Me, I wondered how well a ping-pong table would fit in the basement.  Gwen, she wondered about filling up the house with children. 

After getting a ping-pong table into the basement, Gwen and I proceeded to make a baby (not on the ping pong table).  Making a baby really isn’t as difficult as you might think.  Usually you can make one with the things you have laying around the house.

The Brandt family curse was broken.  Gwen called me at the beginning of my shift to tell me that we were pregnant (by “we” she meant “her”, but I’ll happily take half the credit as long as she does all the breastfeeding).  I proceeded to have the best day in the ER ever; I think I probably killed 9 people.

Have you ever heard of the people who LOVE being pregnant?  You know the people who never have any complications and pregnancy is an absolute dream?  They just sit there and glow and smile, and then go into labor and in 4 minutes pop out a smiling baby and the whole thing is a wonderful dream?  Yeah, well Gwen may start hunting and killing those people like Buffy the Vampire slayer.

Gwen was nauseated and vomited for the first 20 weeks of pregnancy.  This was the best part.  She also went into the hospital on three separate occasions.  She had a disease called ischemic colitis.  The best way to summarize the disease is that you can’t eat any food and all the important stuff on the inside of your body (spleen, liver, intestines) try their hardest to find a way out.  She recovered from this disease well, and continued to have terrible abdominal pain and misery for the following two months.  If you know Gwen, this is not like her.  She likes to be about and doing things, though she really got to know the TV channels well, so that was kind of cool when I got home, she could always help. 

Eventually, the pain and suffering go so bad that after several trips to the physicians we decided to get her gall bladder removed.  The surgery went as perfectly as possible.  She requested to keep it, so that every day she could wake up and step on the stupid thing in vengeance.  The doctors said no, since they had to send it to pathology.  The results of pathology said chronic cholecystitis, which meant it was really causing all of her misery for the last very long time.  But afterwards, she did marvelously.  She is 25 weeks preggo with our baby girl and still doing very well.

We went to Hawaii in November with the entire Veldhof family clan.  As it turns out, Hawaii is actually a pretty nice place.  It is hot, beautiful, and we saw many a sea turtle.  We (by which mean I, Rob, since Gwen is preggers) also went boogie boarding in big waves and found cracks in my body we didn’t know existed till we had to get sand out of it.  All in all, the year ranged from horrifically scary, to fantastically wonderful.  Thank God for another year!  Merry Christmas!

I went to Baby’s R Us.

I tried to mentally prepare myself the best way I knew how, which was heavy drinking, however, I remained unprepared for the onslaught of cuteness that assaulted me.

Small little bibs with “Daddy’s girl” and “Big Pooper” and pink everything attacked me.  There were a ridiculous assortment of plush, fuzzy, squish, soft, and adorable items that to the best of my knowledge have no possible practical function, yet I am required by law to own at least 7 of them.

Oh, what’s this?  A Squazzley?  Great, I don’t care, give me 4.

The only thing that kept me from melting into a Elmo Shaped pile on the ground was that,

1.  I was with Gwen, who like me (and unlike 99% of the females I know) can shop like she just put down the crack pipe and can’t get another hit until she gets out of the store (I love this woman!).

and

2.  The person in charge of registry.

Now I had assumed that the person in charge of registry at Baby’s R Expensive would be a cute, young little waif who’d want to know when the kid was due, was it a boy or a girl, how cute Gwen was, that she was glowing yatta yatta yatta.

I could not have been more wrong.

We got Zoonga (her name has been changed, very slightly, to protect her anninnimaty , anninomousity, her identity.  She was a brusk, no-nonsense German woman with a thick accent and no time to screw around.

Us:  We are here to register for a baby shower
Zoonga: You take scanner (think Arnold Swarts accent), scan for baby!
Us:  Um, ok
Zoonga:  Here!  Fill out this form now!  It make discount, since you WILL spent lots of money here!
Us:  Alright, ok, please stop yelling at us.
Zoonga:  Go Scanning now!  Here is free calender, but I ripped off corner of calender since it had coupon, but coupon is expired!

Needless to say, once away from the terrifying, yet helpful Zoonga, we registered for about $10,000 worth of equiptment for the unborn child.  About half way through the shopping/registering, both Gwen and I felt exhausted and overwhelmed.  Holy Crap there is a ton of stuff you need for this little 7 pound blob.  Thus, we did what any good parent would do… we just finished scanning everything in sight randomly and hoped for the best. 

I like Christmas.

I like being with my family and celebrating.  I like giving presents, and getting them.  I like Christmas carols, and I like opening up that little door in the calender and getting the little chocolate for Advent.  I like unexpected surprises (thanks mom/dad for the Koeze nuts, the cashews are likely going to be gone in <24 hours).  I find myself a rather easily pleased individual.  Yay for me.

Today was great.  I bought a miniature, Charley Brownesque Christmas tree.  I also bought a squeegee for our garage (no drain in a garage?  who does this?), and I also got 2-cycle gas for the snowblower.  My snowblower kicks monstrous ass.  Blowing snow all over kingdom come is also in the Christmas spirit. Yay for snow blowers.

OK, are you farting Skittles and rainbows yet?  Enough happiness.

Onto the news.  Christmas Finances.

As you may or may not know, the way the wife and I divide our finances is as follows:

All of my income and her income gets funneled into the main account.  I think it’s a bank account, or it might just be a place where we store our money from work (as shown in diagram A)
                              Diagram  A

So, all of our money (my currently lots and her currently some (fellowship doesn’t pay much better than residency (it is not her fault (though who knows what geriatrics really pays anyways (I know!  Can you believe some dumb resident actually asked her if she was going into Geriatrics for the money!  Yeah!  “Oh sure!  I’m going into taking care of senile old people for the money, load and loads of money in Geriatrics… oh wait, sorry, it’s pretty much the second lowest paying physician out there” (sorry, I haven’t had much sarcasm (or parenthesis) yet) she’d say to him), I know I don’t!), I blame the media), in fact, fellowship pays almost exactly the same)), goes into one big pot. 

From that initial pot, it gets divided up.  Some goes into another pot, which is our money market account, where we keep our emergency money, and we are slowly trying to fund that.  Also, we have another account from Saginaw which it is currently auto-paying some of our bills, so we keep that one funded since transferring all the auto-pay features is a bit of a hassle.  So now we are at 3 accounts, one main and 2 smaller accounts.  Also, out of the main account, Gwen and I have our own, separate, FUN-money account.  This is all easy to understand in the following diagram:
  

This is the key to marriage.

If you are recently married, or have been married for a number of years and was wondering what was wrong, this is the answer.  You have to have a FUN account.  This is your NO-GUILT money.  You can spend this money on whatever the hell you want, whenever you want, and the other person doesn’t get a say in it.  She can’t argue, she can’t complain, she shouldn’t even know about it.  You can spend this on ANYTHING. 

Each month, Gwen and I have been getting 50 dollars a month in the fun accounts.  yeah, I know, a whole, whopping 50 bucks.  But, the think is, this is not grocery money, this is not, presents for family money, this is YOUR MONEY THAT MUST BE SPENT TO SPOIL YOURSELF.  Ooh, doesn’t the sound of that just make you want to open up 2 accounts right now?  Seriously.  Having money that I can use on whatever, whenever, is quite nice.

Now, onto what I bought myself.  I just got me a brand spanking new laptop.  Do you see the words in front of you right now?  Do you know where I typed them from?  Well, actually it was from my desktop since I can’t get the wireless (and by me, I mean Gwen, since I don’t really know a damn thing about wireless) working right now.  But I could have written it on my new laptop.

You know what the best thing about a laptop is?

>>Portable pornography.  Wait, no, let me try that again.

You know what the best thing about a laptop is?

>>I can attempt to be a writer wherever I go.

Thus, I think I will really start writing regularly (he said to himself over the laughter in the crowd).  Also, I think I’ll get published.  Yeah, and also, I’m going to buy that solid-gold rocket car, yeah, yeah, that’s it.  I’m sure I’ll have plenty of time once the baby is born, won’t I? 

I just got back from Hawaii.  Maui is really quite awesome.  The Hawaiian language, yeah, I mastered that too.  Here’s how you speak Hawaiian.  You take 3 of the 7 allowed consonants (H,K,L,M,N,P,W) and add a giant handfull of random vowels. 

That’s it.

Then you say that with confidence and everyone will think you know how to speak the language.

For example.

English: Look at the size of that Eel!
Hawaiian  Aloina naka uloula nea EEolaha!

English: Do sharks attack more people after they pee in the ocean?
Hawaiian:  Meleana “shark” oalahanahaleola

English: Is this Hawaiian mask really worth 90 dollars?
Hawaiian:  Ha ha ha olah ha ha ha (sucker) hah ha.

Also, right before I left, I took the Big Arse Test (BAT)

You know, you’d think after 4 years of college, 2 years of Masters, 4 years of med-school, and 3 years of residency, that I would be smart.  As it turns out… no, not at all.  All it took was 7 hours of non-stop testing to remind me that I am actually quite dumb. 

This is a good thing.

You don’t want to be the smartest doctor on the team, cause that means everyone always looks to you for the answer.  ER is a field where there is just too dang much to know, so then you have to pretend like you know the answer and try to be smug.  I don’t do smug well.  I am more of  a “well, I’m not the smartest guy ever, so I’m not ashamed to still look it up in a book and be sure I’m doing the right thing” kind of guy.  Also all of my patients love me.

This is not because I am nice, or I have fantastically unbelievably awesome bedside manner.  No, I’m a jerk to my patients.  I have found the key to patient satisfaction.  Ever since it became legal in Michigan, I give all of my patients medical marijuana.  It goes something like this:

Me: Hi Mr. Johnson (MJ), what’s your stupid problem, other than being fat?
MJ: Um, uh, well, you see, it’s just that I
Me: Spit it out fatty! 
MJ:  Well I seem to have sprained my ankle when I was going for a jog, you know to try to get into shape.
Me:  Ah, well, that was dumb of you.
MJ:  …
Me:  Well let me check it out (I glance at his ankle for 3 seconds).  It’s a sprain, put ice on it.
MJ:  You are the RUDEST, most terrible doctor, I have ever…
Me:  Want some medical marajuana?
MJ: What?
Me: Want some medical marajuana?
MJ:  Really?
Me:  Yeah, really.  Just fill out this patient satisfactions survey a minute.
MJ (rapidly filling it out)… Here you go
Me:  Oh and you have “glaucoma” now as well.  Here’s your prescription
MJ: Your the best doctor ever.
Me:  Yeah, I know.

This will last for about another 2 months, till I find out that I failed my boards and I have to find a new place to work.  But, in the mean time, I’ll keep my patients happy, that’s the kind of dedicated guy I am.

Till the biggest test, probably ever.

This is the one that lets me be a Board certified Emergency Room doctor… or not.

No big deal, just the rest of my life.

Go team go, on the 19th!

I had three people with the same last name all at the same time in the ED.  This has happened before, but usually they are from the same family.  These three were not. 

All three of them needed interpretors.  The first two needed Spanish interpretors (yo hablo un pequito Espanol, lo siento).  The third needed… a sign language interpretor.

It has come to my attention that sign language is fricking cool.  I’m totally jealous of the ability to speak with only using one’s hands.  However, this guy was actually kind of a punk, and he really didn’t take care of himself.  Thus, I wanted to yell at him.  Unfortunately… he was deaf, so that didn’t help.  Not to be cynical, but this guy just wouldn’t listen to me.  Well, let me reword that.  He wouldn’t pay attention to the translated hand gestures. 

In other news.  My wife is much better.  Yay.  I, however, have been passing liquid fire from my rectum.  I blame the Fetus.  He/she will remain grounded.

hopefully, soon, I’ll have pictures from Halloween.  For now, just continue to cry yourself to sleep every night.

Have you ever filled a full punch card at Bigby coffee? 

I have.

They give you a free coffee.  Any flavor, any size.

The guy at the counter said that I might as well just get the biggest size with an extra triple shot of espresso.  You know, since it’s free.

…

For a short period of time I was able to watch individual photons of light as they  slowly drifted down from the sun.  After the initial blast wore off, though, I actually had a pretty productive day.  Well, time to get back to the library, shoot me up again mister!

It should come as no surprise to you that getting I recently treated a patient in the ER with the following chief complaint.

“Assault to face with toaster”

That’s right.  It was a repetitive toaster attack to the face.  You will also be shocked to discover that alcohol was involved.  What a surprise.  In fact, to be honest, in my many toaster attacked patients, alcohol has been involved 100% of the time. 

Awesome.

In other news, my wife had her Gall Bladder removed and is now starting the recovery process and is doing quite a bit better.  Our offspring is still in intra-uterine “time out” for causing such things to happen.  She/he isn’t allowed to watch any TV or play Nintendo for 23 more weeks.  I know, I’m a mean dad, but it had to be done.  You let the little parasites start running the show before they are born, and you regret it the rest of your lives.

The first step of my official American Board of Emergency Medicine test is November 19.  I have a study schedule made until then.  That sucks.  However, I guess I must admit that I have found one of my kryptonites.  My super-weakness is procrastination.  If i don’t have a schedule, I will fill my day with nonsense and idiocy faster that you can think of a reason to not eat blue cheese.  That’s just what I do.  But, magically, if I write down a schedule, somehow I find a way to get more (never all) of what I wrote down done.  It is always more that I would accomplish if I didn’t write down, however, it’s always less that I write down.  Ah well.

oh, and Halloween is coming this year.  I think this year I’m going to go as a clown.

Ah, Vegas.  Where else can you see unbridled talent, beautiful architecture, and non-stop porn all at the same time? 

Of course, the real reason I went to Vegas was for the 13 hours of lecture every day for 4 days.  Let me now go into intimate detail about how much I learned, how the lectures were and what happened in the conference.

It blew chunks.

Ok.  That about sums it up.  On the other hand, I learned that the Flamingo Casino is a nice place that is filled to the brim with smokers and mediocre gambling.  Go team go!  I did manage to make some money, but then I managed to give more of it back. 

You know what irks me?  Blackjack paying out 6 to five instead of 3 to 2!  What kind-a crap is that?  Who do you think you are, Mr. Flamingo?  Why do you have to give me crappier odds that the odds you already gave me when blackjack was started?  Are you really losing money that much money?  Really?  I mean, thing in Vegas are usually cheaper than normal, and the odds should never be going down and down like that.

Blackjack should always be fun, and not be super expensive.  Though this sign I thought was a little misleading, and not at all what I expected… 

So.  All of that aside, what else did I do?

Yeah, I played a lot of BJ.  I think I was quite up for the week on that alone.  Thank goodness I played a bunch of random slots so that the poor casino could stay even.  I also made some good $ on poker, which was quite fun as well.  I did do a little shopping.  I made the first purchase for Fetie (that’s the nick-name for the fetus… Fetie).  Fetie got a nice new one piece. 

It looks like this (this is him wearing it just outside of the womb).

My wife thinks that this picture of the one-piece over her uterus makes her look fat.

Also, on the plane ride, I found an interesting diagram on the toilet that I wanted to share…

That’s right.  Don’t throw away any giant bottles, foam cups, or disembodied hands into the toilet.  Also, don’t throw away cleverly folded origami (the top thing?  What is that?)

We (that’s Laura, Jeff, Tim, Connie, Tracie, and myself) also all went to Love, the Beatles Cirque Du Solei which was awesome.  I won’t try to explain it, just go yourself.  Yeah, it’s worth it.
OK I love you bu-bye