Four more days, oh only four more days left. I don't think I have yet recovered from the few attempts to straight cath old diapered ladies for urine samples, or how after so many years I can still mistaken the clitoris for the urethral opening. (Nurse, why won't the catheter go in?) With the modern advent of the practice of showering, we tend to forget that our scents, accumulated, is bestial at best, putrid at least. And to think of the glorious future of gasteroenterology ahead of me. I can hardly wait for my first code brown.