The Internet is broken. Long live the Internet.

I woke up this morning with a terrible headache in my right temple. So I did what I should do, for once - I popped a Benadryl and an Aleve and I went back to bed. This, O Best Beloved, is what I must always do when I have a headache. For twenty minutes (two cycles of the clock) I lay there with a blistering headache, and then I felt it ease, and shortly thereafter I fell sound asleep. I was awakened most pleasantly by Angel crawling onto the bed and kissing me as he left for work, and blearily asked him to set the alarm. When it woke me up, I had second thoughts about going to French Lick, as it was then 30 minutes before my self-appointed time to leave home and I hadn't packed a single bloody thing. Furthermore, I still didn't know what "Resort Casual" meant. Deciding (based on some earlier-gotten advice) that it meant "Business Casual with Shorts" and knowing that I had no shorts, I settled on packing my three pairs of pants and my five shirts, figuring that would do somehow. One of the pairs of pants was wrinkled, and the shirts were not all immediately available. Panic ensued, the details of which I will spare you, O Best Beloved. Let us just say I got over it, and packed. I had my sparkly dress for the eveningwear portion of our weekend, and I remembered two pairs of hose this time, and my Lily's shoes, which I am lucky to still have. I don't remember anything yet that I forgot, and that's a good thing. Got in the car about 11 or 11:30, and headed out to French Lick. Stopped at McDonald's for lunch, resolved to learn how not to be hungry ever again. So much greeeease. Despite calling Angel in a panic as I realised 37 had construction and was diverting travellers to 67, that my atlas was in the back, and that going 70 miles an hour down the highway was not a good time to look at a map and figure out where the hell 67 went and where I should expect to regain my original travel itinerary (There were signs), I arrived in French Lick in good time, at 3:55 by my analog watch that I'm wearing because I lost the digtital one again. Parked in the 15-minute parking, and went to the registration desk. Sadly, I do not have a purple ribbon on my nametag that says "STUDENT" in pretty gold letters. Nor do I have my year in school on my nametag. I'm an outcast with a guest's nametag. But I did get a room in the corner of the hotel, with a beautiful view out the windows, and I carried my bags in all by myself, sneaking past the bellhops with their carts, because I know you should tip them and I don't know how much, and they scare me, O Best Beloved. Then I parked the car properly and I called Angel and I looked around the hotel and started meeting people like a Good Student. And then after a bit I went up to the room to pursue the possibility of Internet Access. There is a tiny modem here, that in theory I should be able to plug my computer in and for the low low price of $9.95 a day have high-speed access. Unfortunately, when I plug my computer in all I get is nothing. So I took a nap. Woke up and went to the Pre-caucus Dinnerthingy, where I was seated with the 14th district, which is the one Just For Medical Students, and I met Mandy and Andy, who are also Medical Students like me. And we discovered that we were supposed to have three delegates to the Congress for our district. Which made us the delegates. So after dinner, in which we met a Resident who invited us to breakfast at 7:00 at the Bistro, we went to the congress and sat and listened. And then I was going to go back to my room or up to the Presidential Suite's Afterglow party (free food and drinks), but I started talking to Dr. Haste, and he walked with me over toward the Reference Committees before I knew it, and asked me which I was going to. Well, then I had to go to the Reference Committee, so I went to the one on pitocin and term limits and residents (three different topics!). It turned out to be far more interesting than I had thought, O Best Beloved, because the case that was presented involved an Amish midwife practising midwifery on Amish patients. Which, in the State of Indiana, is technically against the law, because only licensed nurse-midwives can practise midwifery. Otherwise, you're an Unlicensed Person practising Medicine. But usually they just look the other way, because it's really an Amish thing, and the midwives are v. good. She had a good relationship with Dr. Y, over many years - and apparently, even that relationship could've gotten Dr. Y in trouble, for assisting someone to Unlawfully Practise Medicine, so I suppose what Dr. Y should've done by law is to tell the midwife's patients that she couldn't see them if they were seeing an unlawful practicioner, which puts everyone at risk of dying and... Anyway, Dr. Y gave the midwife some pitocin in case of haemorrhage post-partum. This is a safe drug, in knowledgeable hands, and it can save lives, by reducing the haemorrhage to levels that allow the patient to reach the ER before she's lost 6 units of blood. And the midwife was talked into assisting at a home-birth of a non-Amish patient, and bad things happened, and the patient bled, and the midwife gave the pitocin, and the wrong person found out, and the next thing she knew, Dr. Y was being brought before the medical board to have her license possibly suspended. It was a mess, and the doctors who deal with the Amish want to know what they can do to help do what's right for their patients without losing the ability to practise medicine. Which is a touchy issue, and D. I want to throw some things at you sometime. We were trying to figure out if there was a loophole we could get through since the Amish midwives don't charge for their services. I got involved in the discussion after the reference committee broke up, because I wanted to hear what the doctors had to say about the whole mess, and that's when I met a doctor from Connersville who talked to me and walked me to the Presidential Suite, made sure I had met someone else before he went to hobnob - someone who knew Angel's parents, so we talked about Rushville and whether or not I want to do OB with my practise. And when I was done talking to him, I met up with the medical director or some such at St. V's and listened to his travel stories and looked at the digital pictures he had on his laptop and drank wine. And I'm supposed to look him up if I'm ever at St. V's, so he can take me to lunch. Dr. Z. Really nice guy. And then, finally, O Best Beloved, I returned to my room and saw I had voice mail. It was more residents from the same group, asking me to breakfast in the morning, so I suppose I should go. And then I fiddled with the Internet some more, and got nowhere, so I called tech support and talked to him. And it ended up that he escalated my incident, and told me to keep trying off and on, hopefully someone would fix it, since they didn't know if they would be able to call me back at my room. Which in the end is probably good, because now that I'm at the end of my journal entry I'll go to bed and get up to go to breakfast in the morning.