You Have Died of Diphtheria!

Here is my fearless travel companion, in all its glory. You'll note how low it is sitting in the back. That is due to the weight of all of my stuff. I have a lot of books. The books themselves are not heavy in the philosophical sense. But all that paper makes for a lot of weight.

Guess where I am now?! Topeka! Topeka, Kansas! I have traveled 1032 miles so far. Man! That is a lot of road. (Speaking of roads, I'd like to give a general message to the state of Missouri: FIX YOUR FREAKING ROADS!!!) Today, I added Missouri and Kansas to the states I've been in - the states have gotten considerably larger, sadly, so there will be fewer 'yay! I'm in new state!' moments.

Only about 2050 miles left...

I'm not feeling the words tonight, so I'll just try to post some pictures of my morning in St. Louis. I went into St Louis in the morning, and stayed doing touristy things through lunch, then drive to Topeka.



It's the arch! That's how you know for sure that I was really in St. Louis. For $10 you can get a ticket to get a tram ride to the top of the 630 foot arch. Also for $10 you can get an hour long 'cruise' on the Mississippi River in an old Sternwheeler type boat. I chose the boat. I've been 630 feet up before. Higher, even. (I've also been on a boat before, but not in St. Louis) This picture has the old Courthouse under the arch. They built it in the 1830s-1860s. Remember the famous Dred Scott case? (me either) Dred Scott, and his wife, both slaves, sued for freedom after they were moved from a free state to Missouri, a slave state. They lost.



I love this building so much, that I'm going to build a replica of it on my Greek island some day. I'll have a big sign on the outside that says "Orphanage" and inside will be the coolest playground/rollercoaster ever. What it is in real life is an old electric company - built in 1902 to power the 1904 World's Fair.


The Gateway arch was finished in 1965. It was built to celebrate or commemorate or something-ate America's expansion west of the Mississippi. Seeing as St. Louis was the gateway city and all. Three of the main Trails of the Oregon Trail started in St. Louis.


One of the other main jumping off points for the Oregon Trail was Independence, Missouri. I decided that I should check out their historic area as well, seeing as it was on the way to Topeka. Independence, MO in modern days is like a ghost town. Everything is boarded up, and the roads are even worse than the bad Missouri roads. I guess it makes sense that the town that grew up around people trying to get as far away as possible would eventually fade away. The most interesting thing I found in the historic district (I kept getting lost and couldn't find things!) was this old log courthouse from 1827.

I have bunches of more pictures on Kodak Gallery if you are interested.

I'll stop my history lesson now!

More road beckons for tomorrow...

Bring in da Nois-e

After twelve and a half hours driving in my truck, you'd think that I could actually wrap my mind around the fact that I'm in Illinois now. Instead, I just keep saying "Illinois!" in a perplexed way.

Incidentally, after twelve and a half hours driving in my truck, I'm talking to myself. A lot.

Isn't it weird that you don't pronounce the "S?" It is.

So, yes! I started my Road Trip! I'd go into all sorts of details about packing up my apartment, and loading (cramming) up my truck (which I could not have done without the capable help of the fantastic and lovely Miss Heather). I could talk about all the 'lasts' of this past week, and all of the things that were causing me to choke back tears (e.g. *sniff* this is the last time I'll get annoyed at someone at this intersection *sniff*), or the full-out bawling this morning.

But I'm on my Road Trip Adventure of Insanity now. And on Road Trip Adventures of Insanity, there is no room for looking back. Especially when your truck is so loaded up that you can't use your rearview mirror.

I hit the road this morning. The Winston-Salem to Sacramento directions on MapQuest say that the journey (straight through) should take about 40 hours of driving. I'm taking a week to do it. For some reason, I decided that I needed to make it to St. Louis on Day One. It took me twelve and a half hours (my loaded, heavy truck is slooooow on hills - like the Appalachians) to get here, but I am 12 miles away from St. Louis.

I'm totally pretending to start the Oregon Trail tomorrow. You remember that the jumping off point was St. Louis, right? Oh, yes.

Today, I drove through North Carolina, Virginia, West Virginia, Kentucky, Indiana and Illinois. That dumbfounds even me.

The biggest adventure of the day was in finding out what state came next. I'm not so hot at the geography. I was all "Am I in Indiana or Ohio??? Indiana! Indiana!" I was really excited to be in Indiana. I don't think I'd been there before. Or Kentucky. I think...

I was pleased to have no adventures today - that was the goal. My stuff stayed nicely packed. The only mishap was when I poured a whole canister of Pringles all over the stuff in my front seat. Oops.

I have a couple of pictures. They're boring, though. Plus, there is a weird lady hanging out at the front desk, and my camera is in my truck (along with EVERYTHING I OWN - including my med school diploma). I don't feel like chatting with weird lady again. Hopefully I'll have some fun pictures tomorrow.

So They Say...

I'm officially a doctor now. No more denying it... Be warned. :)

I hope to have fantastic pictures of the event soon - it will serve as final proof that I'm not just some delusional blogger making up a life more fascinating than my own, true life. Though I'm sure, after reading my blog, there is no one that thinks that I'm making it up. It is much to boring for that.

But now, the next time you see me in the grocery store, make sure you give me a big, hearty "Hi, Dr. Yard!" I won't answer (who, me? Doctor?), but I'll appreciate the effort.

Oh, and I made sure to note the first thing I said as a doctor (after 'thank you'), as a predictor of my future professional life (something I made up, but doesn't it sound official-like?!) The first thing I said: "Was it?" I don't know what that means for my future...

And Then There Were None

No more school, no more books, no more teachers dirty looks!

We're done. For real. Like, totally and completely done. This is the goal that I've been working towards for way too long... I can really say: "No more school" and it is true - no quiet modifier ("until next year...") needed.

And now, the Graduation begins. We have about ten billion different activities - tonight I have an induction into the Humanism in Medicine honor society (people seem to think I'm nice...), followed by a class party - where we may (or may not) burn our short white coats (!!!). Tomorrow, most of my family comes (sans Melissa). Friday is an awards ceremony - I'm not winning anything, but I am presenting something. Saturday is the big semi-formal Faculty/Senior reception. On Sunday we get hooded, and then, finally, on Monday, we graduate.

A whirlwind of activity!

All requiring new clothes!!!

But, now, I have learned everything that I'm going to learn. I will be dumber on Monday than I am right now (short term memory will have cleared by then). Yet they're still going to let me be a doctor.

I would like to pontificate on the significance of moving into doctor-hood as a whole paradigm shift and how it will finally force me to acknowledge the fact that I am, indeed, an adult, and how today is the last Wednesday of my life that I will not be a doctor... but I just got an e-mail saying that I won't graduate unless I turn in this one financial aid form... So... I'd better go do that.

Code Blue!

As part of our clinical education here in med school, we get several opportunities to work in the Patient Simulation Lab. It is set up with a very high-tech dummy and all the monitors and meds and lines, etc. that you'd find in an OR or ICU. We work in groups to run fake codes (patient having a heart attack, or not breathing, or otherwise crashing), or to practice putting a patient under for anesthesia. It's actually really, really cool. The dummy has eyes that open and shut - and the pupils even dilate. A man in another room runs the controls that move the dummy's chest up and down to simulate breathing, pumps that simulate carotid, femoral and radial pulses, and even talks for the patient - "Doc, I'm not doing so well!"

Did I mention that we do this in groups? It makes everything seem much more manageable when you have four colleagues fumbling around with you. You always hope that your group has the one Take-Charge person who is up-to-date on all of their Advanced Cardiac Life Support stuff. Otherwise, the group often lets the patient totally and completely deteriorate and die. Which is why it is nice to practice on a dummy, not someone's dear old granny.

As part of our "Phase V," we have two patient sim lab sessions. Except that you can miss one.

Which seven people decided to do today.

Leaving three of us to save the dummy's life. Repeatedly.

They made us go alone.

I had to save a 75 year-old Alzheimer's patient with a small bowel obstruction.

Alone.

AHHHH! Man, that was pretty stressful. We all did admirably, though. I think. At least I didn't kill the guy. But I had a lot of assistance from the man in the back -

Me: "uh, now I want to give a... paralytic...so I can intubate"
Man: "Okay, what would you like to give?"
Me: [shoot, I can't remember any... think, think, think] "Ummm. Rocuronium?"
Man: "Are you sure about that?"
Me: "Umm, no, but it is the only one I can remember."
Man: "How about something shorter acting?"
Me: "Um. Vancuronium?" [shoot, that's kind of the same thing]
Man: "How about Succ.."
Me: "...inylcholine! Yes, give Succinylcholine!"
Man: "Okay. How much?"
Me: "Um. I don't know. Enough so that he won't move."
Man: "Alrighty."

So, yeah, the patient didn't die, but it took a long time to get there.

OBX

I didn't learn until last week that the "OBX" stickers that are ubiquitous on SUV's in North Carolina do not, in fact, refer to some obscure sport about which I know nothing, and would surely be horrible at. No! "OBX," as anyone fluent with Google (and who isn't!?) could tell you stands for the "Outer Banks." Outer Banks! Du-uh! OBX... Outer Banx.

For those not from North Carolina, I liken the Outer Banks to a cross between the Boundary Waters of Minnesota and a summer beach hang-out. For those not familiar with Minnesota, the Boundary Waters (and thus the Outer Banks) is a wild-ish area where people like to go kayaking and fishing. The Outer Banks are actually in the Atlantic Ocean, though. Look at a map - it looks fake.

Enough for the geography lesson.

After living in NC for four years, I decided that I needed to make at least one trip to the Outer Banks - and a second trip to the Atlantic Ocean (I've only been once before to NC's beaches!) So, I subtly enlisted Susan to join me (she'd been making other weekend plans - ha!) on a spur-of-the-moment trip. Spur-of-the-moment in Brenna terms, that is - with only four days planning.

Guess what? Now it is history lesson time!!

Have you heard of the Lost Colony of Roanoke Island? In the colony of Virginia? You know, people came over on a ship, set up a settlement, and then by the time the next ship came (three years later!), the people had totally disappeared. I always assumed that Roanoke Island was in Virginia. Nope! It's totally in North Carolina. In the Outer Banks, in fact. Susan and I stayed on Roanoke Island (the island wasn't lost, just the people).

We didn't find any of the lost people.

I think they're probably dead now...

Done with the history lesson! How about some art appreciation? Well. Maybe not 'art' per se. But Brenna's Photos Appreciation just really doesn't seem like a legitimate class title...


This is Susan in the Lost Colony. Maybe. It was a fort at some point. But I'm not sure if it was the Lost Colony, or Fort Raleigh. Either way, now it is just a pile of dirt.

Alrighty. I was going to post more pictures, but Blogger isn't letting me. That's okay - I don't have any pictures of me yet anyway - Susan has all of those! :)

Maybe I'll post more pictures later. Maybe not. It's a crap shoot.

Oh yeah, by the way T minus 12 days until I'm officially a doctor.

Stymied

Most of the time I don't write because, well, there isn't all that much that happens in my life on a day-to-day basis. But lately, there have been things going on all over the place, and I haven't been writing because I didn't know where to start! So, I just decided to not start at all.

Or maybe to just paraphrase.

Can you paraphrase something that was never written in the first place?

Let's just say that we can.

When we last heard from me, I was home for Easter. Since then, I went down to Sacramento with the parentals to look for a new domicile. Abode. Dwelling. Pad. Home.

Yeah. Not doing so good on the paraphrasing here, am I? It's Thesaurus night.

Speaking of thesaurus - I wrote a paper in high school once, and I was feeling like sounding smart, so I "shift-F7'd" a lot of words (for those that don't know, that is Microsoft's shortcut to the thesaurus). I don't remember what the paper was about, but my teacher loved it so much, that she actually read it to the class. I felt like I had cheated by relying so heavily on the thesaurus... Terribly embarassing.

Random aside is done now. But good story, no? Yeah, not really.

It takes around 9 hours to drive from Portland to Sacramento. And such an easy drive. The directions are: get on I-5 South. That's it!

I won't go into gory details about the apartment search. We looked at ten places on the first day. I was agonizing over the decision. Some places were great but pricey, others were affordable but dicey (Heh - catch my rhyme there? I'm to-tal-ly a poet) Nothing was quite right. We decided to go to a new area at the beginning of the second day. And the first place we got to look at was perfect! Or at least was missing all of the things that I had major concerns about at the other place. So, assuming all the paperwork goes through (it should), I have a home! Huzzah! It is in an area of Sacramento called "The Pocket." Not kidding.

I flew back to the NC on Saturday, and here I remain sitting on my butt doing nothing. (I did get my hair cut today). I should really be thinking about packing and selling my things and all that jazz. But it is more fun to sit and do nothing. Zero. Zilch. Naught.

I do have a preliminary itinerary for my Cross Country Road Trip, however! It is totally and completely arbitrary. It started with the plan: get on highway, go west.

There were many funny things that happened during the past week that would have been good blog posts, but now the time has passed.

Except, I do have to tell you about the restaurant whose name my parents can't remember. It was definitely more funny if you were there, but between them, they came up with "Jimmy Bob's," "Jim Bob's," "Jimmy Boy's," "Roy Boy's," "Jimbo's". It was called "Jim Boy's," so I guess they were close. But they never got it right. Probably part of the problem was that it was a Mexican restaurant. Named Jim Boy's.

Come visit me in the Pocket and I'll take you there.

By The Way...

... I'm home for Easter! This trip totally took me by surprise - I mean, I knew it was coming, but it still feels like a bonus surprise week off. My parents and I are going to drive down to Sacramento in a couple of days to look for a new home for me... Daunting task.

Let me tell you about Easter, though. Mostly because I have some pictures to post.

It was a very 'adult' Easter this year. Not in the sense that we sat around watching R rated movies and telling dirty jokes. (Get your mind out of the gutter!!) It was just that, well, there were no children. No searching for Easter eggs. No Easter Bunny. Etcetera. We did have a visitor, however, but she doesn't have big, floppy ears. Chelsea - our old neighbor, and one of Lindsay's oldest friends - is living in Seattle these days (her family is in Pennsylvania), so she came down to join us.


This here is my lovely family. It was nice to have Chelsea here, as she worked very well as a photographer. And we made her clean the house, too.


Our version of an Easter Egg Hunt. Find the rocks!


You can see here that it didn't take long for us to totally engage Chelsea into our Easter traditions. This particular tradition has roots in my kindergarten days. And it isn't a tradition so much as everyone just making fun of me. Which kind of is a tradition, but not special to Easter.

One last thing I have to comment on: This August is my ten year high school reunion. Yes, I am oldy-old-old-old. Now, there was this boy back in the day that I had a cyclical crush on - meaning that from seventh grade through senior year, I had multiple crushes on him. Separated by, you know, other crushes. I had a lot of crushes... Anyway. I was keeping Cyclical Crush Boy in my mind as the potential movie-plot-like addition to my high school reunion - we meet again after ten years, yada yada. You know the plot.

Well, yesterday, I saw him! At church! With his wife. And baby.

Darn.

I guess it'd be more movie like if the person that I re-connect with after ten years is someone that I didn't really know in high school, anyway.

(I pretended I didn't see CCB because I was there with my family and he was there with his family, but his family was a wife and baby, and my family was my parents and sisters, and even though I'm going to be a doctor, which does give me some legitimacy in a mature, adult world, I'm not a doctor yet, so it just looks like I'm the 27 year old living with her parents.)

In Defense of Knitting

We're in what we call "Phase Five" of medical school now. Because our schedule here doesn't completely flow on a year-to-year basis, each chunk is called a "Phase." During first year, it was Phase 1, second year was more or less Phase 2, and so on. So I guess you could say we're Fifth Years now. Heh. I'm totally in remedial medical school.

Anyway. All Phase 5 really involves is going to helpful and interesting lectures where they try to 'prepare' us for real life. Lectures on the finances of medicine, and lectures on our personal finance, interspersed with reviews of basic medicine that we should all know (but tend to forget).

Our one responsibility during this phase is to Show Up. We even have little barcodes that we have to sign in with.

They've added another dimension to Phase 5 that was not present in the earlier phases, however: We are not allowed to have our computers. Now, I must admit, that during Phases 1 and 2, I was horrible with the computer. If a lecture started getting even remotely boring, I was off onto the internet, IM-ing my classmates, shopping, playing Bejeweled... Anything but paying attention. I'm positive that the lecturers knew what we were doing, but at that time, it was kind of accepted. And, honestly, it was almost expected. (Rarely would any faculty ask us to leave our computers shut).

But now that we're more or less 'adults' (or at least that's what they're trying to convince us of), we're expected to Show Up and to at least marginally Pay Attention. (with the occasional game of hang-man, or a note passed on whether or not the presenter looks like Guy Smiley)

Yesterday, there was a big kerfuffle because one of our classmates was knitting during a presentation. Granted, this is a person who is notorious for trying to get away with things. With everything. (i.e. going to Starbucks off campus and then calling the hospital operator to patch them in when they got paged so that it didn't register as an off-campus call; or wearing headphones during a no-computer lecture) This is probably one of the least respected people in our class for that reason.

But, personally, I think knitting is a great way to spend lecture. It helps me focus, keeps me from debating Guy-Smiley look-alikes, and actually makes me remember what I hear. It keeps my mind active and engaged. I know it probably sounds silly to the non-knitters out there, but that's the way it is. Why do you think knitting circles (or quilting, etc.) are so popular? I'm sad that knitting is not a more culturally accepted thing in the medical world.

I'd write more, but I have to so sign in!!

Day The Last

Approximately seven hundred and eleven days ago, I wrote my first post as a clinical medical student.

Today, I write my last.

Because I quit. Haha! No, just kidding. Today is our last day on rotation. The last day that I walk around wearing my short white coat (which should more rightfully be called a short, slighty-grayish coat).

As I look back on the past 711 days, I see that while I have come a long way, there is so much more yet to go. I started out knowing nothing about anything. I approach the end knowing more - a whole lot more - but much of what I know is that there is so so so much more that I don't know. How gloriously cheesy!

Today marks the last day that I will walk into a patient's room and introduce myself as a 'student' (actually, that was yesterday, but I'm taking some poetic license here). I have been a student for twenty-one years now. That is over 7600 days. These past 711 make up less than 10% of what I have been taught. What I have learned, during these days as a pseudo-doctor is that a physician must never stop learning.

Though we are shortly to drop the title of 'student' and take on a much larger title - 'Doctor' - I know, or at least I hope, that I will remain a student in my heart. It's hard to give up a 21 year habit, after all!

So, even when I do walk into a patient's room and introduce myself as a doctor - as their doctor - I will be looking to them as my new teachers. And I will remain a student forever.

Keep 'Em Covered, Please

I'm in the library at school working on a presentation about Robertsonian Translocations right now.

I was working along just fine, minding my own business, drawing nice pretty little diagrams of chromosomes and gametes. Then this lady sat down at a computer that is about ten feet away from me.

And she took off her shoes.

Now my eyes are watering, and I'm getting a headache, and I have to leave.

You'd think if your feet smelled that bad, you LEAVE YOUR SHOES ON!

Contest!

I would like to announce the First Ever Big Words Movie Quote Contest!!!

[bells and whistles go here]

The winner will receive (if they want it) a copy* of the movie in question.

Name the movie that goes with this quote:

"The only industry left was the manufacturing of space ships."

Include with your answer at least ten words (in sentence format) of why this movie rocks. Submit all answers to my comments section. And... if I don't know you, I'll need some sort of contact info.

*In VHS format. I'm not DVD nice.

Lull

I like the word 'lull.' It is such a pretty sound. And I love that it can be a verb - to lull - it sounds like what it means.

But today, I use it in the 'before-the-storm' sense. Or rather, between the storms. The storm of Match Day has passed. And now is the lull before GRADUATION happens.

Everything is nice and peaceful right now. I'm on my last - last - rotation as a medical student (genetics), and I'm so peaceful (in a state of lull), that I don't even care all that much about anything going on. I have not made one peep on this blog about the resident or other student that I'm working with. And believe me, had this been in a non-lull month - I'd have been more than peeping.

And the tragic story of the honor student who got pregnant, thus ruining her grandiose plans, only to find out that the fetus has a not-compatible-with-life genetic mutation, thus ensuring that she will actually be able to follow her plans? Or the parents of the eight-year-old child who were just told now that their child is retarded and won't 'get smarter'? These stories have fallen into my lulled little brain with a small little thud, instead of drumrolls and large cymbal crashes as they would have a few months ago...

My entire existence now, is focused on the arriving storm: Graduation. Finding a place to live. Doctor. Moving. Doctor. Residency. Doctor. California. Residency. DOCTOR.

Time to batten down the hatches!

Excuse Me!

Just now, I had a girl literally run after me in the hallway yelling 'Excuse me! Excuse me!" I thought it was someone in a rush just trying to get past other people with a large bag or something. There are always people rushing around in a hospital with large bags. Or something.

But it turns out, she was actually trying to get my attention. She recognized me as her Kaplan teacher from a couple of years ago. She's starting school here in the fall, and wanted to thank me for helping her do well on the Verbal Section! ::warm fuzzies::

How awesome must it be to be an actual teacher (instead of a fumbling wannabe like me) and be able to shape the lives of so many people. Teachers deserve so much credit. I hope people give them ::warm fuzzies:: all the time. Though, unfortunately ::warm fuzzies:: can't be exchanged for dollars or gold.

Or burritos.

Excuse me, all teachers!: You rock!!

Shake That Booty!

Yesterday, I knit a baby bootie.

Then I was like... "Brenna. You just knit a baby bootie."

And then I felt like my own great-grandmother. Not that she was known for knitting baby booties. (I don't know if any of my great-grandmothers were known for anything, actually.) But, seriously? Baby booties? Afghans and scarves are one thing - knitting those can be kinda-sorta cool. I don't know about baby booties, though.

But it is so cute!! And one baby bootie will do no one any good.

Incidentally, let's start a rumor that my great-grandmother was known for caber tossing.

Brenna's Bar Brawl

A popular question these past few days, from non-people-who-just-matched people has been "Did you go out and celebrate?" My answer: a guarded yes. I couldn't give details, because I had to do some fact-gathering.

Well, okay, I didn't really have to 'gather facts' - I was there, after all. But I just confirmed yesterday that I did, in fact, start a bar brawl.

Only... it wasn't so much a bar as a Pizza place.

And... it wasn't so much a brawl as people yelling at each other across the street in Spanish, while twelve girls chanted 'get out!' and the cops looked on.

Hee-hee-hee!

What happened was this (This is totally like a flashback story, no? I describe the climax, and then go back to why it happened! Totally like Alias. I am Sidney Bristow. Minus the secret-spy skillz. And maybe I should say I am J.J. Abrams. Minus the actually good-story-telling-ability skillz.):

There was a school sponsored Match Day party at a very nice club in down town Winston. I went, I ate, I danced, I had fun, and I had some wine. Not too much. Just enough.

Then I was all set to go home.

Except that someone said, "We're going to Local Bar!" and I said "Awesome!" I don't think I actually said 'awesome' (though I often do), I more likely said "Okay!" with the awesome-ness implied. Practicing my subtlety skillz.

At Local Bar, I had just one beer. Responsible Brenna. And then, at last call, Ihadatequilashotbecausesomeoneboughtaroundforthewholetable.

Then, I was all set to go home.

Except that someone said, "Let's go get pizza at Local Late Night Pizza Place!" and I said "Awesome!" No more subtlety skillz by then. I totally said 'awesome.' And I might have bounced. Just a little. Because, MMMMmmmm Pizza.

So, we trudged up to LLNPP, and lo and behold! ran into some other just-Matched classmates. There was the Spanish-Speaking Classmate, the Inebriated Classmate, and the Looking On Bemusedly Classmate.

IC had apparently insulted two tables full of young drunk girls. I don't know what he did, but it involved the word 'fat.' So, there were already twelve or so girls yelling at IC. SSC and LOBC were just... looking on bemusedly.

We got our pizza, and joined our friends, at a booth across the aisle from them. Then... I threw a napkin at someone in the other booth. Because, you know, there are times that napkins should just be thrown. Except that my throwing-at-a-target skillz are... not great. And I missed. And I hit someone in a booth on the other side of the wall.

I hit him with a napkin.

A clean napkin, I might add.

Then, I went back to eating my pizza. Because, Mmmm, Pizza.

Next thing I knew, SSC was yelling at the people in the other booth. And LLNPP employee was asking that entire booth to leave - our friends, not the yellers.

And then the girls started chanting, "Get out! Get out!" (because, let's face it, no matter what IC did, if it involved the word 'fat,' girls are not going to get over it)

So, IC, SSC and LOBC left. And guys from the other booth (three big Hispanic guys) followed them out.

And the Hispanic guys girlfriends followed them out, saying something like "Don't do this!"

And... I followed them all out because... well, Bar Brawl!!!

When I got out, IC had fallen on the ground, SSC was across the street yelling back to the Hispanic guys in Spanish (my Spanish Skillz are not great, so I don't know what they were saying) and LOBC was hailing a cab. All under the watchful eyes of several policemen.

That's when I left (with my non-brawling friends), so I didn't know what had happened afterward - thus the fact-finding I had to do. (I also confirmed that Hispanic guys were mad because someone had thrown a napkin at them)

But, nothing terrible or exciting happened. IC, SSC and LOBC all left in the cab, and no one was arrested or anything. Which is good. Which is why I can tell the story without feeling guilty. For starting a Bar Brawl. With a napkin.

And now I can resoundingly say, "Yes, I did celebrate Match Day!"

More Match

Opening the letters:


Still opening the letters:


Opened letters:


Happy, happy people:

Happy St. Patricks Day!

When did this holiday become a valid excuse to get really drunk? It isn't quite as big here in this town, but I've seen timers in other bars that are counting down to St. Patty's Day all year long! I dont' get it...

What I really want to talk about is Match Day, though! Yesterday, I was too pumped up to do more than a quick note. But the whole day was somewhat surreal, and I'm sure everyone in the world is dying to know about it!

Match Day is a day that I personally have been anticipating and dreading for about as long as I knew it existed. That anxiety level kept going up and up and up - especially these past few days. I was very happy to learn on Monday that I had matched. Since I was happy with my rank list, I was able to just be excited about the actual Match. Still terrified, but more excited-terrified than please-just-kill-me-now terrified.

Thankfully, we celebrated Ari's birthday on Wednesday night with much laughter and Chinese food (and sushi), which effectively distracted me from pacing around my living room. And yesterday morning, we met for a late breakfast, also to distract us. And to make us feel like we were characters from Sex and the City. Minus the sex part. And the city part. But totally the 'and the' part.

We assembled in the building by our mailboxes starting around 11:30. Almost the whole class was there - something that hasn't happened for many moons. There were also spouses and parents and millions and millions of babies. Our class started spawning sometime in the last two years - it is absolutely amazing!

There was a lot of nervous laughter and hugs and picture taking as we stood around waiting... Then, at 12:00, we all filed in to where our mailboxes are to get the Envelope (like the Oscars!).

Now, our mailboxes are all in one little area, back in this little 15' by 15' area that has a giant table in the middle of it. It was kind of a single-file shuffle to get to the boxes. This process was not helped by the one person who brought their spouse and daughter back to the area, then opened their letter while standing in front of half the boxes! And then the daughter reached into someone else's box - they weren't latched - and pulled out someone else's letter!! It wasn't mine, so I thought it was funny.

Susan and I got our letters, and then walked out to a more open area. So we could be photographed, of course. :) They sealed those letters SO tight. It was really hard to open - not helped by the fact that I started to cry. Haha! Nervous/excited/terrified tears which turned into tears of frustration as I tried to get my finger under the envelope flap.

Finally (it really only took two seconds, but felt like forever) I got the envelope open - and started cheering. I think I was actually cheering/jumping/flailing before I completely processed what the letter said. You know how when you touch something hot, and your hand automatically pulls back before you actually feel your hand burning? Yeah, I think it was like that.

Susan was cheering/jumping/flailing/tearing up right next to me, so I took that to be a good sign, too, which it was. She'll be going to Birmingham, Alabama for pediatrics.

We spent the next half hour frantically trying to find out where everyone else was going. Most of our class seems to be happy - with a few exceptions, of course. But, at least everyone was pretending to be satisfied.

I finally remembered that I should call my mother (sorry, Mom!) to tell her the news. She was, as expected, very happy for me. The funniest part about calling people was that EVERYone was calling people. There were thirty people pacing around outside the hospital with their cell phones to their ears. Very interesting sight!

The rest of the day was spent partying and just celebrating our general awesome-ness. We did have a lunch thing-y where we got up as our names were randomly called, put a dollar in a bucket, and announced to the class where we matched. The last person called got the bucket. Needless to say, I was one of the first thirty called. This tradition is how many schools actually get their match envelope! How nerve-inducting would that be! Getting the letter in front of everyone...

So! That was Match Day. And now, I have just three weeks of clinical work left, and four or so weeks back in the classroom, and then.... holy cow... I'll be a doctor. [Cue the please-kill-me-now terrified laughter.]

...drumroll...

UC Davis!!

(for those of you keeping track, that was numero uno)


And now I can breathe again...

Match Update

Congratulations, you have matched!


(I still haven't gotten the e-mail, but I went and checked on the official page, because I was hyperventilating...!)

The rumor mill is listing number of scramblers in our class at 1 right now. There is sure to be more gossip. I am, of course, dying to know.

Medical students are just bad people.

I have to relay one story: This time, three years ago, when I was but a wee little first year, I remember seeing the fourth year students (aka intimidating, OLD people) all being panicky about the Scramble and Match. I started freaking out about this day all the way back then. But I survived! And I matched! Hooray!

Now I just want to know where!!!!

I Love Toys!

As at least Melissa knows, VH1 has been running an "I Love Toys" series (like the I Love the 80's, but for... toys) - the top 100 toys. I felt this called for a Special Edition Blog, because just watching the top 20 toys brings back floods of memories! I'll just include the ones that I had/played with as I grew up (or even yesterday). In bold are the things we had in our home...

100. Magic 8 Ball - Melissa had this. It was great until it got all bubbly. I like to live my life according to the 8 Ball's advice. Reply Hazy.

99. Thumbelina - ?

98. BB Guns - I would have shot my eye out...

97. Spirograph - I loved this thing, but it was so frustrating! I'd do several rounds perfectly, then totally mess up on the last one. Grr.

96. Pong

95. Chutes & Ladders - Melissa's game, I think. I liked it. Except when I lost...

94. Laser Tag

93. Sea Monkeys - Creepy little things. Yuck.

92. Dominos

91. Uno - Still one of ym favorite games!

90. Models - I built a Statue of Liberty model with my dad. Poor guy wanted sons... :)

89. Dungeons & Dragons

88. Care Bears - Melissa had a Grumpy Bear, which was so fitting. Ahh, the memories...

87. Radio Control Cars - I don't think I had any, but Dad sure did. Again, no sons.

86. Ouija Board - My mom is not crazy-conservative by any means, but there was no way she was letting one of these in our house. I do remember playing it one time at a slumber party - I was 8 or 9. It told me I was going to marry the guy in our class that was known for picking his nose. The thing is? One of the girls playing was my arch-rival. I suspected trickery.

85. My Little Pony - I feel like Melissa had more of these than I did, but I do remember one with shiny wings that moved when you pused a lever on its back. Then one wing fell off.

84. Gumby

83. Memory - I loved playing this game with Melissa or Lindsay because I always won. Somehow, back then, it didn't matter that I was two or even three times their age.

82. Little Golden Books - The Poky Little Puppy!!! I loved those books. Still do.


81. Wooly Willy - One of my sisters got one of these when I was in junior high or something... I hadn't seen one until then. He lived by our phone for a while, which was fun.

80. Baby Alive

79. Trivial Pursuit - I like this game a lot, still, at times. I remember reading the questions as a kid and feeling really... young.

78. Green Army Men - Didn't play with them as a kid, but did decorate a friend's house with them a few years back...

77. Stickers - Oh, yeah I had a sticker collection, complete with sticker book. I L-O-V-E-D getting the fancy 2-quarter stickers at restuarants. Sparkly!

76. Balsa Wood Airplanes

75. Weebles - They don't fall down! I used to have a house and a car and a girl and boy Weeble. I know where the girl is, but the other stuff is long gone. I don't really remember playing with them, but I remember having them...

74. Erector Set

73. Rainbow Brite - Her shiny skirt hurt my eyes. But I liked her yarn hair.

72. Colorforms

71. Walkie Talkies - I was so excited to get walkie talkies! They had morse code printed on them. I remember playing with the morse code more than actually using the talkie part.

70. Candyland - I hate this game.

69. Slip'N Slide

68. Smurfs - I know I had a little smurf, but I don't remember which one...

67. Tinker Toys

66. Risk - We had this game (may still have), but I dont' think anyone has ever played it. We were more into Pretty, Pretty Princess and Dream Phone and Mall Madness.

65. Jigsaw Puzzles

64. Roller Skates - Got my first, and only, pair in fifth or sixth grade. Right when everyone else was getting roller blades. How dorky are roller blades?!

63. Rubik's Cube

62. Life

61. Operation - I would just wedge the tweezers into the crack in
the heart to get it out. It was so easy that way. Probably a good thing I'm not going into cardiothoracic surgery! Man, does my bread basket hurt.

60. Tickle Me Elmo

59. Simon - My cousin, Ian, had this. I remember playing it with him at my grandparent's house... It was fun. I got a travel-size Simon a while ago. Man, it is really annoying. I can't believe our parents and grandparents didn't send us packing!

58. Mad Libs

57. Stretch Armstrong - I think it was Melissa that had this. I brought it to school in HS for some sort of presentation (who knows...), and left it in the trunk afterwards. It stayed there for a good long time and got pretty cooked. No more stretchy. Or maybe it was Melissa that did that... I get our lives confused.

56. Barrel O'Monkeys - My cousin, Heather, had this. Again, I remember playing with it at her house, and it was fun. In college, I got my own monkeys, but they mostly just sat there. There are many things more fun than Barrel O'Monkeys.

55. Mousetrap - Melissa's game. It always took so long to play, that I think we just set it up and set off the trap for fun half of the time.

54. Viewmaster - I still love these things!

53. He-Man - My mom didn't want me to watch He-Man for some reason...

52. Speak N'Spell - Possibly my All Time Favorite Toy. I still have it somewhere. I love the little electronic voice. Q is my favorite letter to hear him say.

51. Lincoln Logs

50. Game Boy - Again, this game was Melissa's. I'd play it occasionally, but... I'm more Speak N' Spell than Donkey Kong.

49. Clue - My board game. I was always drawn to the shortcuts for some reason. Kitchen to Study! Awesome.

48. Little People

47. Evel Knievel Stunt Cycle

46. Hungry Hungry Hippos - Melissa's. What a violent little game that always seems to turn out to be. Violently Hungry Hippos.

45. Frisbee

44. Raggedy Ann & Andy

43. See N'Say - The cow says MOOOO. That was my favorite sound. This may have been Lindsay's. Poor thing ended up with a lot of hand-me-down toys, apparently... Either that, or she's too young for this list!

42. Jump Rope

41. Transformers

40. Big Wheel - Melissa had a pink one, I had a black and yellow one? Maybe? Or Melissa had a black and yellow one and the neighbor had a pink one. I remember trying to get a fast start on with it on our gravel driveway, though - the wheels would spin and spin before they'd finally grip.

39. Tea Set

38. Pogo Stick - Not a pogo stick (though I always wanted one!) - but a Pogo Ball!

37. Mattel Classic Football - We had this game in our junk drawer for years and years. I'd take it out and mess with it every once in a blue moon, but I could never figure it out.

36. Strawberry Shortcake

35. Tonka Trucks

34. Connect Four - I think this was Melissa's, too...

33. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

32. Shrinky Dinks - I remember doing these with Dad. So much fun!

31. Twister - Melissa's game...

30. Battleship - First game I remember being tempted to cheat at. And I did cheat, on occasion. Sorry, Melissa. I don't cheat any more!

29. Cabbage Patch Kids - Remember the craze? I got one of the coveted dolls for Christmas in kindergarten (I think). Then its head split open! I got a new one, though. Stacie Trixie.

28. Crayola Crayons - We kept ours in a blue bucket. It's what my dad used to teach me about centrifugal force - I remember standing in the basement flinging that bucket around.

27. Silly Putty

26. Lionel Trains

25. Lite Brite - I miss my Lite Brite...

24. Water Guns

23. Nerf

22. Teddy Bears

21. Nintendo - We even had the floor pad thing for the running games. Man, we made a lot of noise with that. And the duck hunt!

20. Atari

19. Easy Bake Oven - Melissa had this sitting in her closet, I think until my parents moved last summer...

18. Scrabble - I get kind of bored with this game, which is surprising given how much I love words.

17. Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robots

16. Etch-A-Sketch - I could draw a mean rectangle!

15. Matchbox & Hot Wheels Cars

14. Bicycles - Learned to ride my bike on a gravel driveway. I thought it was normal to spend the entire summer with both knees, and sometimes elbows, covered in scabs. Of course, it may have been my general klutziness more than the gravel driveway...

13. Snoopy Sno-Cone Machine - One of my good friends in jr. high had this, though I don't ever remember using it.

12. Radio Flyer

11. Play-Doh - Like Mom and the Ouija Board, Dad didn't ever want this evil stuff in the house. We'd get it from friends occasionally, though, then we'd have to put newspaper all over the table and the floor, and the walls, and each other.... No Play-Doh in our carpet!

10. Wiffle Ball and Bat

9. Slinky - The plastic ones are such junk. We had one or two of each kind - metal and junk.

8. Yo-Yo

7. Star Wars Action Figures - One weekend, which may or may not have been the Fourth of July, I found a Darth Vader action figure under a tree at Square Lake. I felt like I'd owon the lottery, and I kept that thing for years. It didn't do anything. But, man! It was Darth Vader!!

6. Monopoly - If I must play this game, I would like to be the iron. But I'd rather not play the game.

5. Mr. Potato Head - I think this was Melissa's too. Which is fine with me, because I think Mr. P-H is kinda boring.

4. GI Joe

3. Legos - I like to build houses. And cars.

2. Barbie Doll - I liked to take all the clothes, set up a little Barbie boutique and make my sister's dolls come shopping for clothes. Of course, me, as the boutique-owner, got first pick at the clothes. Then Barbie and Ken would get in their Corvette, and plunge down the stairs.

1. Hula Hoop - You know, for kids!

But What Time do We Panic?

An excerpt from an e-mail I just received:

"This email provides important information about the schedule for releasing NRMP Match information during Match Week, March 13-17, 2006. All times are eastern standard time.

"All applicants will receive their Did I Match? information on the web and by email at noon on Monday, March 13th, letting them know whether, but not where, they matched. Beginning at 1:00 p.m. on Match Day, Thursday, March 16th, matched applicants will be able to access their Where Did I Match? information on the web, letting them know to which program(s) they matched. Applicants will be able to access their certified rank order lists throughout Match Week.

"The List of Unfilled Programs will be available to all unmatched applicants by email and on the web beginning at noon on Tuesday, March 14th."

Breathe, Brenna. Just breathe...

Wikipedia Friday

Before I begin this week's installment of W.F., I'd like to share with you what one of my attendings said to a patient this past week. We were talking about why the patient shouldn't take a certain medicine on an empty stomach. Attending said: It is like you write a letter to the Stomach Ache Doctor: 'Please give me a stomach ache.' And he will." I almost burst out laughing right there. Then I did a little dance in my head, because pediatrics really is so much more fun than anything else. Stomach Ache Doctor. Ha!

Now, on to the main event:

Today's topic: Hideo Itokawa

What I learned about "Hideo Itokawa": I learned that Hideo Itokawa was a genius, who skipped many grades, and then became a pioneer of Japanese rocketry. In fact, they called him Dr. Rocket (not quite as cool as Stomach Ache Doctor, I fear). He had many hobbies outside of rocketry, including baton twirling and English plays. He published 49 books before his death in 1999, at the age of 87. There is an asteroid named after him.

Personal anecdote involving "Hideo Itokawa": Well, I never met the man. I did have a friend from Japan in elementary school. She never mentioned him, either. Nor did our Japanese foreign exchange student we had that one time. Geez. You'd think Dr. Rocket would have gotten more respect. He sounded like a very interesting and intimidating man.

Thoughts on Wikipedia's "Hideo Itokawa" article: I was pleased with the brevity, and also the depth that Wikipedia included in this article. There was also a sense of light-heartedness surrounding Hideo Itokawa's many extracurricular hobbies. Well done, Wikipedia.

Welcome to 1952, Starfish!

Remember a few months back, when I was all into the spinning and animal fiber fair-ing? (It's okay if you don't - I won't be offended.) Well, the friend that I took that class with has continued to spin - she even got a spinning wheel for Christmas, AND she somehow got sucked into the local Spinning Guild. Yes, there are guilds for things like spinning (and knitting, and weaving, and pot-holder-making... well, maybe not the pot-holders).

Through circumstances beyond her control, Heather had to host the local guild meeting today. (Yeah. Weird.) I agreed to attend to provide some moral support for her.

That's how I ended up attending the montly Spin Off today.

To blatantly generalize here, spinners tend to be... older. Poorly dressed. Cat people.

Don't get me wrong - they are interesting and sweet people, too, but not generally people that I'd call up when I'm, you know, well, alive.

So, when one lady - dressed in a huge flannel button down shirt over a huge turtleneck and black, tapered jeans that were folded up an inch at the bottom - mentioned something about her son being the child of a pediatrician, I just assumed that her husband was the doctor. Wrong!

Thankfully, I hadn't said anything before she clearly identified herself as the doctor (she did so several times...). I still felt really guilty automatically assuming that the male was the doctor. Hello? Me? Pediatrician-to-be? Yeah. I guess something about the spinning guild threw me back a few decades. That, plus the horrible outfit. I expect professionals to be able to dress...professionally. Despite the tapered jeans...geez, Brenna, what's the matter with you?

After the Spin Off, I went to the Y, because it is Sunday. Swimming Day. I always mean to go swimming on Sundays, anyway. Haven't done it in, oh, five months. The first swim after a long break like this is always difficult. It took me almost an hour to really get my 'fins' back. Though, I've never really been much of a fish in the water when it comes to swimming laps. More like a starfish - I like to cling to the wall.

The reason I'm telling this horribly boring story, is that while I was swimming, something amusing happened. I was splitting a lane with some guy, as was the girl one lane over. Towards the end of my swim, my lane-splitting guy, and the other-lane girl started flirting. In the pool. Pool flirting! I've never seen such a thing before in my life! I just kept swimming between them...

Part of the reason I love the Y so, is that it is very low key. I can always go there knowing that I won't be the most out-of-shape person there. And, I can go wearing my junky, smelly old work-out things because it is not a meat market.

But apparently the pool is.

The Return...

of... Wikipedia Friday*!

It has been a while, but here we go!

*"Wikipedia Friday": where I go on to Wikipedia (the free encyclopedia!) click the "Random Article" link, and then comment on the resulting topic here on my blog.

Today's topic: "Tiger Swallowtail."

What I learned: I learned that the term 'tiver swallowtail' can refer to one of three different types of swallowtails, all of the family Papilo. Also, I learned that the swallowtail is a butterfly, not a bird.

Personal anecdote involving "Tiger Swallowtail": I've never seen a tiger swallow its tail. But how awesome would that be?? I've seen lots of different butterflies, but I can't tell you if any of them were tiger swallowtails or not. Let's just say one was. Ready? Hey, this one time? I saw a tiger swallowtail.

Thoughts on Wikipedia's "Tiger Swallowtail" article: Honestly, I don't have a high opionion of this article. Possibly due to the fact that this article is a "a disambiguation page" - a list of articles associated with the same title. What that means, is that all the article is, is a list of links to other articles. And one of those links doesn't even have an article. Shame, Wikipedia. Shame.

Bona Fide!

This morning, I woke up with a bit of a headache. It wasn't a bad headache - more of a nuisance, really. I got up, as always; said hello to the dogs, as always (I'm dog-sitting); got semi-ready here, then went to my apartment to finish getting ready, as always (for this past week-and-a-half, anyway); then... I decided that I wanted a sick day. My headache hadn't gotten any worse, but I realized that these next few months are really the last time in my life that I'll be able to have a sick day without actually being on death's door. Doctors just don't get sick.

Me being me, I only skipped half a day. I can't ditch my sense of responsibility that thoroughly.

I was worried that everyone was going to jump all over me to figure out where I was this morning, but I was met with an overwhelming indifference. It really makes me see how so many of my colleagues can get away with just never showing up. No one cares!

I had a great afternoon, though (headache-free), so I was very glad I went back. The first few patients were somewhat run-of-the-mill for peds endo - constitutional growth delay (aka short kid of short parents), precocious puberty secondary to excess adipose tissue (aka fat kid going thru puberty too early because of... the fatness), etc. Then, I got to see diabetes insipidus, which is just one of the coolest disease names ever, and as a disease is rather interesting, too.

The last patient of the day was another short kid. I expected same ol', same ol', short parents, yada, yada... but there was something just... different about this one. He was a return patient, and my attending doctor didn't have a good explanation for why this kid was short. I went in, did my little song and dance, and in the back of my head was this niggling little thought... perhaps - just perhaps - I had a diagnosis for this kid.

Long story short, I proposed my diagnosis to my attending, and... he thinks I could be right. This isn't the first time I've gotten a diagnosis (ear infections and the like are pretty simple, after all), and it wasn't the first time an attending thought I was smart. But, all the same, there is this little thrill that you get as a student when you realize that you know something. That you know something that a real doctor didn't think of. I fully realize that fifteen - even five - years from now, my brain power will be leagues beyond what it is now - people will ask me questions not to pimp me, but because they actually want to know my opinion. Those occasions are just so rare as a student, that they just feel awesome.

(Actually, now I wonder if other med students have these moments all the time, and I'm just way behind the curve... I doubt it, though. A few classmates have bucket-loads of stories like this. But we don't tend to like them.)

Tomorrow is a special day. For one, it is my dad's birthday (and without him..., etcetera, etcetera). But, to bring everything back to me, tomorrow is the day that we have to certify our rank lists. By tomorrow at 9 pm, we have to have our list of where we want to go for residency finalized. It isn't a huge deal for me, as I've been pretty certain of my list for a while, but still... There is comfort in knowing that I can change my mind. Until tomorrow.

I need to keep myself away from the certifying website because I am highly tempted to make last minute changes. Partially because whenever I think about the 'future,' I see myself in Tucson. But Tucson is not my first choice. So, I start to think... am I going to match in Tucson? Am I supposed to go there? What if I don't match there, but I'm supposed to go there? Should I make it first? But what if? And how? And who? And... ahhh!?

The part of me that isn't going through that existential crisis is totally caught on the 'certified' phrase that pops up once you do certify. It makes me think of the kid in O Brother Where Art Thou that keeps saying "he's bona fide!" No reason, really. Except that they rhyme.

Certified.

Bona fide.

I bought a bottle of wine at Wal Mart the other day. Bad decision, I know. I'm not a wine connesieur - I've even been known to enjoy a nice box of wine in my day. But, my friends, this wine was the worst I've ever tasted. I think it must have picked up some of the taste of despair that runs rampant through Wal-Mart's aisles. Despair tastes sickeningly sweet and cloying with an aftertaste of burnt-sugar-metal.

Yum.

Form of...

An ice crowbar!!!

Wonder Twin powers activate!!

Happy Monday, y'all.

Entertain Me

Okay. Now... Go!

I'm bored. There were only three patients scheduled this morning - the first one scheduled at ten. Which meant that when I showed up at a quarter after 9, prepared to make some generic "didn't feel good/moved slow this morning" excuse, the lights were off and no one was home. Thankfully, the ten am appointment showed up (randomly) at 8:45, so I had something to keep me slightly busy. But then, the 10:30 and the 11 am both canceled. So. Out of clinic early with nothing to do.

I would go home, but I have a meeting at noon. I would skip the meeting, but there is free lunch.

You don't skip free lunch meetings.

I checked all of my e-mail accounts. I checked all the blogs that I follow. I read my daily comic strip and my daily horoscope. I even read the news. I'm out of things to do!

Granted, I could study. But now there are only fifteen minutes left, and what can I learn in 15 minutes? Not to even mention the fact that I am a fourth year. Fourth years do not study. At least not on their penultimate rotation.

Hey, did I mention that this is my penultimate rotation? Penultimate, penultimate, penultimate! People ought to use that word more often. I think it is neat, because it sounds like it should mean last, but it doesn't. Ultimate is last. Penultimate is second to last. It could be used to give some street cred to slow kids in races - you're either first, second, third, somewhere in the middle, penultimate or ultimate! Dude, why you messin' with me? I was totally penultimate in that race. Get off my back!

We see a lot of 'late bloomers' in endo clinic. Boys, normally, that are just not quite on the average growth curve. Poor guys. It's hard to say to them that they'll catch up eventually (puberty-wise - most of them will still be short guys). How can a 12 year old boy care that maybe by the time he's 17, he'll look like the other guys. That's an eternity. Yet again, I am glad I am a girl.

I'm starving. This had better be a good free lunch.

Happy Valentine's Day!

My Valentine's gift this year was hearing Ryan Seacrest say my name over and over again. Of course, he wasn't talking to me. Or even about me. One of the American Idol contestants is named Brenna. It was surreal hearing my name on TV. I was like... did he just... no... could he... no... I had to actually see the name written out before I could actually understand what he was saying. I'm just so used to hearing my name wrong.

Beyond the coolness of my name's debut on AI, ugggg. I don't like Brenna. She slapped her butt during her song. The song didn't call for butt slapping. Butt Slapping Brenna won't make it far.

So, this Valentine's Day found me in Peds Endo clinic. Not because I've developed a strange adult-onset pediatric endocrinological disease, but because that's the rotation I'm on. Did you all feel the cosmic shift yesterday? That was me being back where I belong. Despite my occasional complaints, I really, really do enjoy being around sick people... Wait. I mean, I enjoy being in the hospital, and being in clinic, and just... everything! It is nice to realize that again every once in a while. I was just smiling at everyone yesterday - AND I'm PMS-y. That's saying an awful lot.

Today, being Valentine's Day (did I mention that?), it is the day where I release this year's edition of the Valentine's Day CD. One problem... I'm still working on it! It is near completion, though. As always, if you want a copy, e-mail me and I'll send it. Not necessarily any time soon, but... some day...

Happy Valentine's Day! I love you all!!

::Scene::

For some reason, lately (possibly due to lack of actual thought) my mind keeps coming up with random conversations - they play out like scenes in my head. Maybe I'm subconsciously writing a screen play. Take them apples, Matt Damon.

Scene 1 (for Susan)
Person One: Pompous, know-it-all, 'philosophical' debater dude
Person Two: Susan in ten kajillion years (peds oncologist)

One: Your argument lacks structure, and is altogether too emotional. Didn't you ever bother to study debate in your expensive education?

Two: No, I didn't.

One: I don't think one can call oneself educated without a basic comprehension of the fundamentals of debate. How can you engage in meaningful conversation? How can you advance in your career? How could you do that to yourself?

Two: Well, I guess it is because cancer cells don't debate.

Scene 2 (inspired by an add for the next Apprentice)
Person One: Apprentice contestant
Person Three: Someone else

One: My IQ is among the highest two percent in the world.

Three: Wow. Hey. Aren't there like... two billion people living in China right now? That means that there are like... forty million people in China that are just as smart as you.

One: Well, if you go by the numbers, that would seem true. But it would also be true that there were 1.96 billion people dumber than me.

Three: That's a lot of people. [beat] Guess you wouldn't want to say something to make them mad.

I didn't say they were good scenes, people. But how fun would it be to have some sort of smarmy comment at the ready when faced with a situation with an arrogant jerk?

Ahh, but all this planning ahead makes me think of another scene, penned by an author much superior to myself (see if you can name it - it isn't terribly hard, for those who are close to me):

Scene 3.
Person One: Pompous, self-righteous, delusional man
Person Two: Pompous, judgmental, but kind-hearted and amusing man

One: I am happy on every occasion to offer those little delicate compliments which are always acceptable to ladies [...]

Two: ...[I]t is happy for you that you possess the talent of flattering with delicacy. May I ask whether these pleasing attentions proceed from the impulse of the moment, or are the result of previous study?

One: They arise chiefly from what is passing at the time, and though I sometimes amuse myself with suggesting and arranging such little elegant compliments as may be adapted to ordinary occasions, I always wish to give them as unstudied an air as possible.

Yeah, so. My little scenes don't a timeless novel make. But they do entertain me!

Whiners

Some may say that three plus months vacation sounds great. 'Some' may even have been me, say, oh, four months ago. But now 'some' would totally be retracting their statement, and wishing that they had something to do that was important or meaningful. (I am on anatomy, and I did do my dissection... it took an hour...)

I'm at school right now because I'm supposed to be going to a meeting at noon. I still have three minutes to get there, but... I think I'm gonna skip it. Somehow, I got involved with this group that gets together to discuss mental health issues in medical students. But the thing is? I don't really care any more! I'm a freaking fourth year! I don't want to sit and listen to the little first and second years whine about how stressed out they are, and why isn't there free counseling available to them 24/7, because 'someone' should make it available, and if it isn't, well then, people are just going to... you know... be depressed, and then they can't function because this is medical school and it is hard, and 'someone' should be making sure that everyone has enough support to... blah, blah, blah.

News flash: Medical School ain't no cake walk. You'll get frustrated and depressed and stressed out. But listen, small puppies, real life ain't no easier. (Ignore the double negative there, and just go with the spirit of what I'm saying)

So, I don't think I'll go listen to them whine today.

I'm also feeling a tad annoyed and whiny myself. I've talked to two people in the fifteen minutes I've been here - one who is in his last three days of short-coat-hood, and one who is in her last three days of being-at-this-hospital-hood. Sigh. I have two months left of each!

If only I had a vacation coming up.

Oh, wait.

Tid Bits

* Yesterday, at Costco, I saw a man purchasing 12 cases (not bottles - cases) of Texas Pete hot sauce. First I saw the cases, then I looked up and saw the guy. He had wrist braces on each wrist. Live dangerously.

* If you are going to spill coffee all over yourself, it is really convenient to be wearing coffee colored clothing. (Not that I speak from experience...)

* My least favorite new fashion trend: Bunching up your jeans at the knees. You may not believe that is an actual fashion trend, but it is. Just look at all those people with their fuzzy boots on over the top of their boot cut jeans.

* I also don't understand wearing heels while you travel. Granted, you look a whole lot better trudging through the airport with some sassy heels on. But why - why - add three or four inches to your legs and then sit in an airplane seat for several hours?

* I like italics.

Picture Tyme!

This is one of my favorite pictures of me ever. (I hope it loads). Despite the dirtiness and frizzy hair. We were teaching each other songs, and clapping games ('Say say oh playmate...')

Oh, and maybe if y'all are lucky, I'll tell you the story of how it took three medical students, three security guards, a locksmith and a dead battery to get me into my apartment on Friday night...

Three Reasons Why Tyra Banks Rocks

1. She has self-declared, somewhat frightening "smiling eyes"

2. She is going to talk to Antonio Sabato Jr. about a "secret affair that he kept secret until now."

3. She blinks like a thousand times a minute while she speaks...

Wait. Did I say three reasons why she rocks? I meant three reasons why she's a crazed, incoherent ego-model-monster.

What Price, Beauty?

I've never been much of a 'girly-girl.' Granted, I'm no Tomboy, either. I tend to float somewhere between the two (and no, I don't mean 'girly-boy'). I like to look nice, but I also really appreciate a good mud puddle - squishing it in between your toes! - and just grunging it up every once in a while.

I also kind of grew up in an era where smelly soaps and lotions weren't smelling up shopping malls everywhere (heck, there weren't even Starbucks around until I was in high school). Smelly soaps and lotions were a luxury that I didn't start paying attention to (still don't, really) until college or so. I didn't grow up with a Fluffy Beauty Routine (FBR), and it isn't something that came terribly naturally to me.

Which may explain why I had never had a pedicure until a year or two ago.

And, I must say... I'm totally a convert. I do enjoy a good pedicure. Manicures, too. But pedicures are so much better. My toes look so indescribably cute after an hour in the pedicurists hands.

You may have guessed by this point that I had a pedicure today. :) My reward to myself for three weeks of hot-footing it around the dusty African roads.

Today, however, I added a new aspect to my FBR. I had my eyebrows waxed. It is something I've been meaning to do for a while, but hadn't gotten around to doing. I decided that it would be a good Home From Africa treat as well. I decided that when I got home, looked in the mirror, and saw that my eyebrows had gone all Africa on me. That is, wild.

For those whose FBR does not include Eyebrow Wax, it wasn't that bad. Not at all like Leg Wax, which is a modern day form of torture, and shouldn't have any place in any FBR. My eyebrows are now all tamed and sleek looking.

I'm all red and puffy around them, though. But that's okay. They match my toenails.

Time to Get a Move ON

Now that all the Big Events of 2005 (residency applications and interviews, etc.) and my trip to Africa are over, I am ready to move on. Now. I've come back to the Waiting Game.

I feel that my life is on hold until noon on March 16 - the big ol' Match Day. Just thinking about that day makes my little heart go a-pitter-patter, and I feel a tad light-headed. At the same time, I want it to be OVER, already. Just now, I went online and made my rank list - I was practically hyperventilating the whole time. And now that that is done, I want an answer! Now! Give it to me!!!

I really don't like waiting.

The decision of whether or not to widely share my rank list is weighing on my mind. On the one hand, why be secretive about stuff now, after laying out my whole life on this silly blog at other times? And, on the other hand... what if I match at like my fourth place? I don't want people to be feeling sorry for or superior to me. I'm only ranking five places, and I think I would be happy at any of them.

I have already started looking at real estate available at my top two choices. Which is kind of funny, because I have no freaking clue what I am doing, nor do I have ANY IDEA WHERE I'M GOING.

Sigh...

One of my friends has already matched. So jealous am I. AND, she matched at her top choice in a competitive field (thus the early match).

Here is a picture to calm me down: It is my favorite picture from my Africa trip. My favorite non-person picture, anyway.

Deep breaths, now. March 16 will be here before I know it.

And, what the heck. Here is my list. For now, anyway. I totally reserve the right to change it (until Febuary 22, when it becomes permanent):

1. University of California, Davis (Sacramento, CA)
2. University of Arizona (Tucson, AZ)
3. Presbyterian Hospital, Cornell Campus (New York, NY)
4. Medical University of South Carolina (Charleston, SC)
5. Wake Forest University (Winston-Salem, NC)

Keep your fingers (and maybe toes, too, just to be safe) crossed for me.

Survey Time!

It's been a while...!

Four jobs I’ve had:
* Telemarketer
* Temporary Technician at Intel (complete with bunny suit)
* Arts and Crafts Teacher at a Taekwondo Summer Academy
* Receptionist at an Infertility Clinic

Four movies I could watch over and over:
* When Harry Met Sally
* Bridget Jones' Diary
* Shawshank Redemption
* Pride and Prejudice

Four books I could read over and over:
* Harry Potter (we'll just count that as one)
* Where the Red Fern Grows
* Welcome to the Monkey House
* Catcher in the Rye

Four places I have lived:
* Beaverton, OR
* Northfield, MN
* Sitka, AK
* Winston-Salem, NC

Four TV shows I watch:
* American Idol (yeah, yeah, I know. but I still like it)
* Desperate Housewives
* Gilmore Girls (though I haven't seen it in months)
* Alias (likewise, haven't seen it in months)

Four places I have been on vacation:
* Alexandria, MN
* Victoria, BC
* Berlin, Germany
* Disneyworld!

Four websites I visit daily other than email:
* Several blogs
* www.comics.com
* The Superficial
* Google

Four favorite foods:
* Bagels and cream cheese
* Diet Pepsi (not really food, but as good as...for me, anyway)
* Chicken
* Thai/Indian/Chinese type food (we're going general here)

Four places I’d like to be right now:
* Beaver Lake, Sitka, Alaska
* Hug Point, Oregon Coast
* At a Broadway show
* Disneyworld!!

Four people I want to participate:
* Mom
* Melissa
* Ari
* George W. Bush

Tea Time!

One of the more popular activities of our trip grew to be tea time. It wasn't ever supposed to be an official thing, I think, but we got tea one afternoon in Bumbuli, and then people wanted it everyday. It really is a nice little tradition - tea in the afternoon.

Today for tea time, I'm going to post some pictures. I had some tea, too. Maybe you should go have some tea to sip while you look at the pictures!

This was the first picture I took in Africa:
It is Shanty Town Road, the road on which we stayed while we were in Moshi. It isn't a very exciting picture. Don't burn your tongue! You know... on the tea... the tea you're drinking for tea time? At least pretend to play along...

This is the Bed and Breakfast that we were staying in - the Kitolie House B&B. That is Mount Kilimanjaro in the background. It is the tallest mountain in Africa, and the only place where you'll find show. A lot of people climb it, as it isn't a very tough climb - three days up, two down. Though, for me, I'm thinking more like six days up, helicopter down.

Our first day in Moshi, my fearless companions and I set out to do some shopping. I like this picture for the painting in the background. It is a style of art popular in Eastern Africa, known as Tingatinga named after the artist from Mozambique who started the style.

After hanging in Moshi for a couple of days, we took a few hour bus ride to Bumbuli. I took a whole bunch of pictures slong the road. I'm trying to post one, but the computer is being difficult. Alrighty, that's enough of trying for that one. It wasn't a great pic anyway.


In Bumbuli, we met lots and lots of kids. They loved having their pictures taken, especially when they could see the pictures on the digital cameras. They would start swarming us saying "Picha! Picha!" and then hamming it up for the camera.

In Bumbuli, as in the two other villages we visited, we spent the first day doing "Triage." We'd visit many houses, and fill out questionnaires at each home, listing the residents and some of the living conditions. Then we'd find out if there was anyone who needed medical care. We'd take blood pressures, and leave the family with intake forms, outlining the medical problems. The patients would bring the intake forms to clinic the next day to be seen more thoroughly (presumably) by us with a supervising doctor.

We saw the patients in clinic in a building similar to the houses we'd been visiting - clay walls and dirt floors - in Bumbuli. In Rombo and Faraja, we were in larger, more open spaces (which was convenient as we had more patients in those places).

We had a pharmacy stocked with medicines relevant to the diseases we'd be seeing. (Including motorcycles...). Actually, in Rombo, we didn't have one very important medicine, which added to the chaos. This pic is from the pharmacy area in Faraja. I decided that on the last day, I just wanted to sort and count pills. It was fun.

(We did all sorts of things, and I took a gajillion pictures, but I'll skip to the safari days now, for the sake of brevity.)

At Lake Manyara, the baboons...

...and the elephants were my favorite.

At Ngorongoro Crater, it was all about the lions.

I'm sure your tea is cold now, so I'll stop there. I have a bunch-a-bunch more. And don't worry - I won't mind showing you ALL of them. Especially if there is tea involved.

Back in the USSR!

Okay, fine. Not really the USSR, but that song sounds much better than Back in the USA. Which really is not actually a song, Or, at least it wasn't until a minute ago, when I wrote this song called "Back in the USA." It wasn't a good song, though. So I'll stick with the Beatles.

Jet lag? What jet lag?

I got back last night after about 37 or so hours of traveling. I don't really know, because the time differences and layovers just really messed me up. The trip went relatively smoothely. It was a gradual leaving-behind of my fellow ISL team members, starting in Moshi, and ending in Minneapolis, when I bid farewell to my last travel companion. Strange to spend so much time and intensity with nine people that I may never see again... (I suck at staying in touch - this blog is my pathetic attempt to excuse myself from the Guilt of being a Bad E-mailer)

But, back to the important things. Where did we last leave off? Ah, yes. I was about to go on Safari.

Safari was a completely and totally different experience from the rest of the trip. First of all, there were white people everywhere. I think we'd all gotten used to being a novelty as we traveled. It was strange to again 'blend in' with the crowds. As we approaced the safari areas, people got more... jaded seeming. There seemed to be a lot more expectation that we would either buy things (at outrageous prices) or even just hand them money. The kids got really pushy about running up to the jeep, holding out their hands and asking for change. I didn't give it to them, because I couldn't stomach the thought of encouraging that kind of behavior.

We did two days of safari - on in Lake Manyara National Park, and one in the Ngorongoro Crater (the eigth wonder of the world, so they say). We saw giraffes, and baboons, and elephants, and vervet monkeys and wildebeest, and warthogs, and all sorts of birds, and hippos, and lions and a cheetah. And some other stuff that I don't remember. I made a list, but I'm too lazy to go get it. Shut up.

Our last day together, we spent shopping. We had to do one of my all time favorite things to do (in Opposite Land) - Bargain. It wasn't actually too hard to bargain, as every place we went had enough sales people that we had our own following us around going, "What price you want to pay?" There were some things that I didn't really feel like buying, but man, the moment you touch it, they really try to get you to buy it.

I ended up getting several things. Mostly for me, 'cause I'm terribly selfish. There wasn't actually much to get that was small and souvenier-y, so the things I got were Big things for me. And the obligatory Family Presents.

I like Capitalizing today.

On our last evening, we had a nice dinner out, and were all given a thank you gift. The girls got khanga - which is a wrap thing that the women wear in East Africa. The guys got T-shirts - which is a shirt made from T's... Haha. Not really. I mean, they really got T-shirts. That wasn't the funny part. Except that it was kind of funny, because... T-shirts vs. Khanga? Khanga totally win.

And then people left, and more people left, and then I left.

I'm completely exhausted right now, so I'm not writing any more. Shut up, again.

I'll post pictures tomorrow!

A Morman, A Model and A Medical Student...

We are in the tail end of our trip now, quite unbelivably. Week One just flew by (as on wings of an eagle... ::snort::) and Week Two... well, it didn't fly by. It was more like trudging through deep mud (or flying dust) with a heavy pack on, growing blisters on your pinky toes, and developing a strong dislike towards rice, and just when you were about to grab a sunflower and stangle yourself with it... it was Week Three.

Our second village, Rombo, was... less than ideal. The trip got off to a rocky start (literally) as we crammed into a small van - called Rasta Baby - and took a bumpy, dusty, bumpy ride for a few hours to a Lutheran Hostel. The Hostel itself was innocuous enough, but it was apparently built adjacent to the LOUDEST spot in Tanzania. Dogs and blaring music and trucks and roosters and loud men and buzzing mosquitoes. All conspired to make Rombo a very difficult place to get a good night's sleep.

We did two triage days in Rombo, on the assumption that there would not be many people who would actually want help from a clinic. The triage days weren't horrible, other than the dirt and dust. I've never, ever, ever been so dirty in my life. And the shower was... well. More like a drippy spout than an actual shower.

The neatest thing about Rombo were all the cornfields and sunflowers. They're all growing together in total harmony. Everywhere. I love sunflowers. I tried to focus on that, instead of my hot and sweatiness.

Clinic Day in Rombo was... well, a day to remember. That day will go down in history for me as an example to compare things to. A bar that cannot be topped. As in, "Oh, goodness, look at all the patients waiting! Well, at least it isn't Rombo." I won't go into too much detail, except to say that we had 1 doctor, 1 optometrist, 2 med students, 9 pre-meds and 7 translators for 706 patients. Seven hundred and six. Oh, and I didn't get a translator that day. I and another team member did all of our patient histories in Swahili. Yeah. Swa. Hi. Li.

We left Rombo with no love lost. Our next stop was into Ma'asai land - a village called Faraja. We were housed at a beautiful place - the Lutheran Diaconic Center. Still don't really know what that means... something to do with deacons. And possibly disabled children... They like to give a lot of speeches at the Diaconic Center. They kept making me try to talk (because I'm the 'leader'), but I kept making someone else do it. Hee hee. Me no likey speeches.

Ma'asai Land was pretty cool. The Ma'asai people are very distinctive - tall warriors who have been very adamant about maintaining their traditions. They wear bright purples and reds and are very tall and carry spears or sticks. And they have the big holes in their ears. Nifty.

Today was our last clinic day. We saw 266 patients, so it wasn't bad at all. No Rombo, anyway.

I feel good about the work we've done here, but also frustrated. So much of it is so temporal - we can treat people for parasites, but if they take their medicine with contaminated water (which most of them will), what good is it really doing? I have to believe that we're helping to build a basis of trust in the medical profession and a desire for access to care that will carry on into future generations. That makes it seem better.

We're all done with the medical portion of the trip now. Before coming here, I thought that only 9 days of medical stuff would seem wimpy. I've completely changed my mind. We are all so very much ready for some vacation. Our Safari starts tomorrow! We get two days of safari - first at Lake Manyara National Park and second at Ngorongoro Crater. Then, we get a shopping day! Then, a day to relax and pack, and after that, it is time to go home.

We have a good group here. We've managed to grow close, as only a group that has intimate knowledge of each others bowel movements can. I definitely feel my age - besides Rebecca, the next oldest person is more than two years younger. It is fun to impart my (vast, unfathomable) wisdom. Of course, I think they stopped listening a week or two ago...

Oh - yesterday, my group consisted of me, the Morman in our group, and the model. I felt like we were a walking joke. Can't think of the punchline, though.

I hope everyone is staying safe back home. I probably won't blog again until I'm in Portland. I might though. Gotta keep the suspense up...

Week One

I started trying to post last night, but right in the middle of a (really witty and interesting) sentence, the power went out. Lost to the world forever. Let's have a moment of mourning...

Alright then! Actually, I have a little more time to ramble this morning, so see how you all get to benefit?!

In brief: I am well, I had one day of yucky-feeling-ness (there are a few people who are looking fairly green around the gills the past couple of days) and "Medical Mission in Africa" is a great diet.

We have made one trip to a small village in the mountains of Tanzania, called Bumbuli. There are honestly no words that can describe the experience in any way that could do it justice.

Bumbuli, a small village in its own right, is made up of five smaller villages. We focused on one of those smaller villages, called Mbokoi. Our first day, we travelled from home to home, collecting information on who lived in the household and finding out if there was anybody who was sick and wanted to go to clinic. We were in groups of three, plus one translator. Our first day, my group made it to 17 homes. It took a long time, because the places were pretty spread out, with all these hills and valleys in the way. We also had contingents of children following us around the whole time, which would sometimes slow us down.

"Mzungu" means 'white person,' and the kids always run up to us yelling it. They always seem really happy to see us, but when you try to talk to them, they get really shy and hide behind each other. I know enough Swahili now to say 'hi' (jambo!) and 'how are you' (haberi gani) and 'great!' (mzuri). Some others in my group have gotten really good. I do also know a couple of songs in Swahili, which always amuses the kids. If you're nice to me when I'm back in the states, you might even be able to get a command performance of me singing 'Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes' in Swahili.

Our second day in Mbokoi was a clinic day. As Rebecca and I are the only people with much actual clinical experience, we were looked at as the unofficial experts. I was really a tad stressed about that at first, but after a few patients, it became pretty obvious that there were a set number of complaints - ascariasis, hookworm, amoebiasis, malaria, musculoskeletal strain... oh, and toothaches. LOTS of toothaches.

By the way, when I say 'clinic,' I mean a tiny, three-room, clay-walled, dirt-floored building with one window in each room to provide light.

I have never been so constantly dirty in my life as I was these past few days. Thank goodness for Purell.

Our last two days in Mbokoi were a repeat of the first day - one day of triage, one day of clinic.

We drove back to our home base in Moshi yesterday, and later today, we are leaving for our second village, Rombo. We are told that the people of Rombo are a little more reticent and less likely to actually come in for care. The village is also on flat ground, not mountains. It will be totally different. Later this week, we will be doing the same thing in "Maasai Land." The Maasai are nomadic people, so they don't really have an established village, just an area. They think that all the cows in the whole world belong to them.

I'm claiming the sugar. All the sugar in the whole world belongs to me! Hahaha!

One last thing, as I've been an internet hog for a tad too long now (and, despite my cunning and devious planning, I am not the only person in the world). For some reason, I was declared the 'leader' of this rag-tag bunch. Again, the curse of seeming competent... Anyway, there are now several in the group who refer to me as 'Mama.' It makes me laugh every time.

I don't think I'll be able to post again until early next week. But keep checking, just in case!