Thursday, October 20, 2011

I Don’t Just Know How To Bake A Cake

I attended a business/investor meeting with HHBL last night. HHBL thought that this particular meeting might be interesting for me as they were talking about a number of medical issues and investments and you know, there is that whole Debbie has a BSN thing. Actually I thought it might be interesting.

But going to the meeting meant that I was the only Domestic Engineer in a room full of businessmen and entrepreneurs and men in suits and I was as out of place as an Occupy Wall Street protestor in a room full of gainfully employed adults.

This is how the evening went.

Run into the Country Club out of the pouring rain.

Try to quickly drip dry.

They didn’t have a name tag for me so the lovely young girl who was running the registration table printed me out a stick on label. Now we KNOW, if it wasn’t already apparent, that I am a guest.

Mingle, mingle, mingle. Get introduced as the little woman. HHBL doesn’t really say that. Try to make intelligent small talk. Hmmm. Hmmmm. Really? Hmmmm. Yes, I see.

I. Need. A. Drink.

$7 glass of mediocre Pinot Grigio purchased. The entire bottle from which the glass was poured most likely cost $10. Grrrrrrrrr.

Grab some appetizers. Spoon a large mound of nice, garlicky, Greek olive tapenade onto my plate along with lovely crisp pita chips. Sit at the table and make LOUD crunching noises while the head of the investment group makes the introductions. I now REEK of garlic and need a breath mint or twenty.

I cannot get wifi therefore I cannot tweet.

You know, after consuming half this glass of wine it isn’t all that bad and the world has a rosy glow. Must slow down on the wine.

Need more appetizers. Badly.

Speaker one is done. I knew about this company so paid attention but not all that closely.

Speaker two is up and talking about the product. And talking. And talking. And talking.

And I am taking notes actually because this is interesting. Very interesting. And the brain cells are firing on most of their cylinders. And he is talking and showing slides. And I am thinking.

And then it is time for questions. Questions. Answers. Questions. Answers. Questions. Answers. No one is throwing the guy a curve ball.

And then the Domestic Engineer raises her hand (that would be me)

Me: The mucous membranes of the duodenum can be thought of as delicate. Have you had any instances of irritation of the duodenal lining at the distal end of the device?

Presenter: Ummmmmmmmmmm. Yes.

He didn’t necessarily want to answer the question. It wasn’t in the scripted plan. And the businessmen/entrepreneurs/suits…….

Did the housewife just ask that question?

Why yes I did.


Score one for the Domestic Engineer.

I don’t just spend my day baking cakes you know.


  1. I don't think I knew that you had your BSN. Did you ever use it (not counting family)? You got it at Baylor? Still not forgetting the "I went to school with him" thing, by the way.

  2. Yes I did use it, Oncology as a matter of fact. And yes, we did attend the same college and I met him several times.

  3. I wasn’t clear to me from your question as to whether the medical device being discussed, the tip of which might cause irritation to the duodenal mucosa, was inserted into the proximal or most distal opening of the alimentary canal.


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