Bigger or Better: Life outside of Texas

There are mysterious forces at work on our clothes in our apartment. And we can't figure out how to combat them. For many many months now, some of our clothes have smelt of rancid oil. Despite throwing out both of our clothes dressers, using dehumidifying packets and odor eliminators, and airing them out, the smell remains. We've tried washing the washing machine. Soaking the clothes in vinegar. Adding SimpleGreen to our laundry load. Adding Borax to the wash. Using fabric softener with the detergent. Trying different detergents. Bleaching all of the white-colored smelly clothes. Nothing keeps the scent from coming back. And worse, it's spreading; how, I don't know, or I would be able to protect our remaining clothes. We keep the oil-smelly clothes separate from all of our other clothes, yet the smell still gains ground. Clothes that have never been in the "contaminated" dressers start to reek. I'm down to four or five non-smelly undershirts. Nearly all o...

For reasons of bed availability and timing (probably), my hospital ward has seen many deaths recently [with the clarification that these are expected deaths, not medical disasters] . I handle them much differently than I did 6 years ago, in that they don't depress me as much, but by no means does that imply I do not think of them. I think of every one. I think back to decide if I made a difference. Mostly, the difference I make is very very small. I do not, after all, have power over death. I usually do not have great words of wisdom or comfort for these patients and their families. And I suppose the touch of my cold hands is not that comforting either. But I remember them. I remember the deaf and confused patient, who smiled when I tried to speed-learn medical terms in sign language, cheating a bit by posting pictures of the signs in her room. Of course we have translators, and (thankfully) video interpreters, but for me, that disengages me from my patient, and is often too cum...