Dr. Abby Lockhart
24 March 2009 @ 04:12 pm
Comment here and I will tell you what I like about how you play your character(s). Tell me which ones you want me to ramble about, please.

Yes, Abby lives and all I am posting is a meme for now.
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Dr. Abby Lockhart
08 February 2009 @ 02:21 pm
Abby wrote out the check for the rent she owed Cait and then adjusted the balance on the handwritten register she kept in her checkbook. Looking at the pitiful figure, she laughed. It was laugh or cry, really, and why bother to cry now? She’d been playing the game of financial roulette for most of her life. Savings were something other people had debt was what Dr. Lockhart kept (and incurred, grew, expanded and compounded).

She hated the first of the month, every month. It wasn’t that she disliked paying rent or that she didn’t like her ‘landlord’, truth be told she thought of Caitlin as more than a roommate and more than her boyfriend’s daughter. She was a friend. A friend who was head and shoulders above herself where money was concerned—this too, wasn’t unusual for Abby. After all, she counted John Truman Carter, III as a friend and one didn’t get much more disgusting affluent than that, unless you wanted to consider Robbie Fellowes (and Abby really didn’t think of the quasi-celebrity and music mogul in those terms regardless of what he lined his pockets with) and his ilk. She just really hated the reminder that not only was she so far behind, but she was still years away from even being able to try and catch up.

She still had a year and a half left of her residency program to go, a year and a half of being ridiculously underpaid for the hours she worked. Then there would be another year as an attending (please, please, let her find an attending position at her current hospital or at least somewhere in Manhattan) with better pay but not great, not until she passed her boards and became a certified emergency physician. Abby shook her head. Even once (if) that happened and her pay began to reflect something akin to justice for her efforts there were still loans to repay, debt to dig herself out from under and no matter what Carter said, she would give back every single cent he handed her for that final semester of med school.

Maybe some day she’d be able to write a rent check and not bat an eyelash at the figure. Maybe some day she’d write that check and it wouldn’t be for a bedroom in someone else’s condo. Maybe.

ooc babble about money )
Dr. Abby Lockhart
02 February 2009 @ 01:38 am
1. Going back to med school
2. Divorcing Richard
3. Not having children
4. Being a hard ass where Maggie and Eric are concerned
5. Patient first.
Current Mood: aggravated
Dr. Abby Lockhart
Request any fic of mine and I will provide you with a commentary/annotations, like a DVD extra.
Dr. Abby Lockhart
19 January 2009 @ 01:18 am

I'm Abby and I'm an alcoholic.

How many of you introduce yourselves to various groups and communities this way, in the sarcastic and wry tone? Joking. We all do it. It's a tried and tired cliché, right? Wrong. Sometimes, some of us are serious. And the best part is, you never really know which ones. There are an estimated 2,000,000 members in 180 countries, from all sorts of backgrounds and every walk of life. Young, old, rich, poor, educated and ignorant. Professional and blue collar. Male and female. Sober and relapsed.

One day at a time.

That's the mantra. Stay away from one drink, one day at a time. Complete abstinence.


It's different for everyone. Sure, follow the twelve steps. Hand it over to some 'higher power'. Go to group meetings and talk about how drinking, not drinking, drinking again...how it all affects you. Your life. Your family. It's all very you specific.

Whatever gets you through the day.

Sheer force of will? Stubbornness? The knowledge that there are others like you, struggling to maintain sobriety? Wanting to change? Wanting to live a life where alcohol doesn't control every aspect of what you do?

That last one makes me laugh. Sober or drunk, it controls everything. You want a drink. You think about it. Places to get one. The way it would taste. The way it would make you feel. How to hide the fact that you drank it. When you can have the next one. Yeah. It's still there. Always there. Waiting.

Which is why we take it one drink, one day at a time.

Every day is a victory.

That's what these coins symbolize. Taking back control of your life from the alcohol.

Maybe it's a week. Maybe it's six months. Could be five years. Twenty. It doesn't matter how long, it matters that you did it. One drink, one day at a time.

I have a lot of these coins. Different colors. I collect them.

I'm not sure if they help.

But I haven't had a drink in a while.
Current Mood: discontent
Dr. Abby Lockhart
! I am an attending physician

@ I make far more than the hilarious joke we'll call my paycheck

# I would never smoke because it causes cancer

$ I want children

% I'm friendly

^ I want to be hugged

& I am not an alcoholic
Dr. Abby Lockhart
11 January 2009 @ 02:17 am
Abby was good with faces, details, so when she saw the man again she recognized him immediatly and was able to place him. He was the possible asthmatic who had come into the ER on Christmas Eve looking for a friend who was having surgery that day. By the way he was now coughing and rubbing at his sternum as if his chest ached, Abby amended her mental diagnosis to an upper respiratory infection, probably bronchitis—maybe even walking pneumonia. The physician shook her head. She kept hoping he’d come back into the ER for treatment himself but…

Someone elbowed her in the back, sharply. Looking over her shoulder to glare at the soccer mom who had three kids in tow, Abby took the two steps forward in the line, inching closer to the counter. God forbid Yuppie Mommy not get her double decaf half-fat no foam latte STAT. Abby cynically hoped the kid behind the counter screwed up the order, whatever it turned out to be, and then she hoped one of the brats spilled it all over what looked like a very expensive sweater set. She stopped just short of wishing surface area burns to the woman’s chest and abdomen—she was a doctor after all. Do no harm, yadda yadda .

Her attention was back on the man, his cup of coffee. Small. Black. He was putting two sugars in it. Then as he used several thin red stirrers to mix his drink, he turned and looked at her. Smiled. He must be good with faces too. Abby raised a hand in a half-wave and returned his smile. Not everyone in New York was unsociable after all.

Abby Lockhart//ER//280
Current Mood: annoyed
Current Location: A Starbucks in NYC
Dr. Abby Lockhart

ooc: This obviously doesn't count for the TM prompt, but this fanvid pretty much sums it up for you. Loopyallie put this one together.
Current Mood: amused
Dr. Abby Lockhart
11 January 2009 @ 01:37 am
1. Make a list of things that remind you of someone.

Thai food
Far and Away
My Little Pony
Bare Feet
Cream Puffs

2. Make a list of something you collect.

Weird People:

3. Make a list of moments you would like to rewind.

It would fill up one of those three ring binders with a spine five inches thick.

4. Make a list of people who make you smile.

That weird little guy up in radiology...he's kind of wacky
Dr. Abby Lockhart
05 January 2009 @ 11:36 pm
the fanficcers love meme, continued
Dr. Abby Lockhart
03 January 2009 @ 02:25 pm

1) List your main pups. Or all of your pups. And potential pups. Whatever, have fun.

2) Take a look at the Kinsey scale.

3) List and explain an area on the scale for that given character, giving specific examples if you'd like, or multiple numbers based on your rationalizations.

4) Know your pup just a little better. (Yeah um, more like YOU know my muses a little better, I know them quite well, thanks.)

Read more )
Dr. Abby Lockhart
29 December 2008 @ 12:47 pm
Make a list of inside jokes.

1. Anita Coffee

2. Fingering it out

3. Frank and I are always looking for a willing third

4. Healthy as a horse

5. Eric
Current Mood: amused
Dr. Abby Lockhart
22 December 2008 @ 11:27 pm
If you could force me to write anything, what would it be?
Current Mood: curious
Dr. Abby Lockhart
22 December 2008 @ 05:53 pm
Abby was working all of Christmas week and loathing most of it. It was depressing to be in the ER during a major holiday for so many reasons. It sucked to be the doctor telling someone that Grandpa wasn’t going to make it to Mass with the family, that Junior was getting a bone marrow transplant for Christmas (if he were lucky) and not a new bike and it really, really blew chunks when someone asked her if she planned to see her family during the holidays.

No. Of course she wasn’t. Maggie and Eric might get a phone call if she could find the time (and the courage) but she wouldn’t be spending time with them. She was frozen in New York, they would moderately chilled in Florida. She was working herself ragged and they were decorating a tree with popcorn chains and drinking the spiced rum eggnog she couldn’t have. They were a family unit she didn’t feel like she was a part of any longer. Some of it was her own inability to adapt to the knowledge that her baby brother was all grown up and the refusal to accept that he didn’t need her to take care of him any more. A larger part of the problem was fear. Fear of the bipolar disorder both Maggie and Eric suffered from and it was a shared terror. Maggie and Eric were afraid that Abby didn’t understand them, didn’t know what it was like to be inside the disease and Abby, for all she tried not to, she could never let go of her need to control and doctor the situation. Not being able to save them scared her.

What about Ruairí and his children, weren’t they her family? Abby was still undecided on that front most days. She knew it took more than blood and DNA to make a family, though she had at least a thread of that in common with Caitlin and her brothers, too. She lived with them. She…cared about them all and usually she realized that they cared for her in return. But did that make them family? Did she want it to? Did they? Not that it mattered much at the moment. She wouldn’t be seeing much of them either with the few short hours she wasn’t working being largely devoting to sleeping or commuting back and forth from hospital to home.

That was the other thing that she hated. The commute: the subway, the walking, and the smelly cabs. They left her with all of this time to think about things like family and that her fingertips were so cold she could no longer feel them(this made not spilling coffee down the front of you difficult). And presents. She had no time to shop and even less of a budget to work with. She had begged off the Secret Santa at work but that still left her with at least Cait and Ruairí to worry about…well, Cait. She had a gift for Ruairí even if it was corny and lame.

And still not wrapped. Dammit!

All right, Lockhart. Improvise. You’re an ER doc. A trauma physician. The specialty evolved out of wartime medicine practiced on the battlefield. Thinking fast under pressure is something you are trained to do. This rolled around in her head as she approached the building she called home, let herself in and finally found herself riding the elevator to the upper floor. She had the gift on her. In her pocket, actually. And she was supposed to give it to him tonight.

They were celebrating on Christmas Even since Abby had somehow managed to have the night shift off though it meant she was on home call and also had to drag herself back to the hospital first thing in the morning. She had roughly two minutes to figure out what she would do and as she gave it a final consideration, the brunette tipped her nearly empty coffee cup back and drained it. She looked at the Styrofoam cup thoughtfully.

Well…it would fit.

Out in the hallway, before fumbling for her keys, Abby popped the lid off the cup and used one wool glove to soak up the coffee remnants then dug through her pockets until she found what she was after. She doubted anyone other than Ruairí would understand the significance of the silver-plated metal buckle. Actually, even if he recognized the girth buckle from a horse’s saddle, she was still going to have to explain why she was giving it to him in a coffee cup (the lid was back on) for Christmas.

His keen hearing must have alerted the púca to her presence because the door opened before she got her key into the lock. Smiling up at the silver-haired man, Abby thrust the cup into his hand. “Merry Christmas. Sorry about the ‘gift wrap’.”

Abby Lockhart//ER//818
Current Location: home
Current Mood: anxious
Dr. Abby Lockhart
1. Throwing cookies at Ray Barnett

2. Being called Rudolph's skank

3. Dodging Haleh's Caroling tryouts

4. Being forced to audition anyway

5. Making Haleh regret forcing me to sing

6. Threatening to beat the temps to death with fruitcake

7. Watching Weaver regift Secret Santa presents

8. Itchy Elf Costumes

9. Susan's Christmas parties

10. Rats, Lice and History: Being a Study in Biography, Which, After Twelve Preliminary Chapters Indispensable for the Preparation of the Lay Reader, Deals With the Life History of Typhus Fever
Dr. Abby Lockhart
15 December 2008 @ 12:48 pm
“I don’t understand it, where are they all coming from?” He was cute, this baby faced intern who was whining at her over a stack of unfinished charts. Cute but not cute enough for her to actually remember his name.

Abby shrugged. “It’s cold, it’s snowing, and it’s almost Christmas. Every homeless person in the city is looking for a meal and someplace warm and or dry to hang out for a few hours. It’s not really rocket science. Then you have the kids out from school and mommy doesn’t know what to do with a sniffle or a cough and the pediatricians all tend to be appointment only so we get those too. Add in every little fender bender, slip on the ice or jostled too hard on the subway litigious idiot looking to get rich quick…and we have a full board, overflowing waiting area and—” she stopped speaking when Cute Intern started rolling his eyes and shuffling through the case rack again, if he wasn’t going to listen she’d save her breath.

“Okay, okay. I get it. ER sucks and I want to change my specialty.” He tried to hand the brunette senior resident a patient complaint about an abscess on her least favorite part of the anatomy to check out and frowned as soon as she handed it back to him.

“Too late, it’s a powerful vortex that sucks you in and there is no escape. I know. I tried. Twice.” If she was going to cherry pick cases, she was going to get the good ones, let intern boy who was becoming less and less cute deal with the GOMERs.

“You give the best pep talks, Dr. Lockhart.” His sunny smile just oozed sarcasm. Abby definitely didn’t like him any more.

“Yeah well…” Oooh, that chart looked interesting, Abby tucked it under her arm and turned to leave the front desk when she caught the eye of a salt and pepper haired man, looking anxious and worrying his hands together.

“Miss? Miss can you help me?” And talking directly to her. Great.

“Waiting room is through there.” Get out of my ER, indeed.

“No, I’m not a patient. I’m here to see a patient. A friend. A buddy of mine. He came in yesterday and was supposed to be having surgery today.” He spoke in short sentences, broken up by fits of wheezing and coughing. Asthmatic, maybe?

“This is the ER. You want Surgical Admit. Try the third floor.” Abby reached for her chart and used it to point the way to the elevators. “And you should stop here on your way out, let someone check out that cough of yours.”

“Thank you, Miss…?”

“It’s Dr. Lockhart.”

“Right. Thanks.”

The man was already heading towards the elevator and Abby wasn’t certain he even heard her and wasn’t just answering on autopilot. Oh well, she did her best, right? She had actual patients waiting—or at least people wanting to be seen by a physician. There were probably quite a few that didn’t actually need to be in the ER and yet guys like Mr. Friend Visitor…

Abby Lockhart//ER//521

ooc: Taking canon events and melding them into AU here.
Dr. Abby Lockhart
12 December 2008 @ 09:35 pm
1. Leave me a comment saying anything random, like your favorite lyric to your current favorite song. Or your favorite kind of sandwich. Something random. Whatever you like.
2. I'll respond by asking you five personal questions about your character/muse so I can get to know you better.
3. Update your LJ with the completely honest answers to the questions.
4. Include this explanation and offer to ask someone else in the post.
5. When others comment asking to be asked, you will ask them five questions.

From Cait:

1) Very well, I'll bite. What exactly were you doing with your finger in someone's heart?

Waiting for surgery to get their pompous asses down to the ER.

2) What was the first thing you noticed about Da? [locked] Before he turned into a horse, I mean. ;) [/locked]

I think we were talking about...peanut butter. It's a toss up really, eyes or the hair. Oooh, wait. Accent.

3) Desert island time: one book, one album and one luxury item. What would you choose?

Book: Walt Whitman's Blades of Grass

Album: Cake "Fashion Nugget"

Luxury Item: Your dad

4) What is one thing that you're looking forward to or hoping for from next year?

Completing this god damned residency/passing my boards.

5) I'll be decorating the apartment shortly. Is there anything you can't tolerate in the way of Christmas decorations or music?

I'll beat you to death with a fruit cake if you hang mistletoe anywhere.
Dr. Abby Lockhart
07 December 2008 @ 02:56 pm
Irish pork bad for your health, so says MSNBC.

I guess that means you aren't getting any tonight, Ruairi. I'm not about to put any dangerous meat products in my body.
Current Mood: amused
Dr. Abby Lockhart
07 December 2008 @ 01:48 pm
4. Make a list of holiday songs you enjoy.

Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer

Twelve Pains of Christmas

Silent Night I hate hinkydoodle.
Current Mood: embarrassed
Dr. Abby Lockhart
28 November 2008 @ 01:00 am

This is the extent of my holiday cheer. It's making me laugh my ass off. Robin, I'm sure this will amuse you for about 30 seconds.
Current Mood: amused