The fellow just said, "Let's round in ten minutes." And I almost hugged him.
In a short period of time, I will be DONE with this freaking ICU rotation. And I will never, NEVER have to take care of adults in the ICU again. Maybe I will go hug the fellow...
Sep 9, 2005
Sep 7, 2005
Still Sunday, Some More
Mmm. Coffee. My quest to get coffee today was much more successful than Sunday's. We got of the ferry and wandered back into the financial district. Apparently, things are closed in that particular district on Sundays. INCLUDING Starbuck's. I about had a heart attack right there.
It was starting to get latish - meaning late enough that we had to acknowledge that we would need to start thinking about getting back to Grand Central Station so that Aaron and Dana could make it home. It was determined that we should go to Greenwich Village and find some dinner. Again, I'm not really sure how that decision was made. Though, I think at that point I was thinking more about my aching feet than Aaron or Dana (sorry guys!).
Back on the Subway. I feel so cosmopolitan travelling on subways. No, actually, that's not true. I feel... city-like. I feel cosmopolitan taking a cab. Or while... drinking a... Cosmopolitan.
So, yeah, we ended up on Bleecker Street in Greenwich Village. I tried to channel Jack Kerouac or Allen Ginsberg, but then a car honked or something and I lost my concentration, so I decided to channel my stomach and find a restaurant. (I did Howl a bit though... in my head)
We ended up eating dinner at Lemongrass Grill more out of convenience (Hey look! There's a restuarant) than anything else. It was quite good, though, AND I was able to satisfy my little (aka BIG) coffee craving with some delicioso Thai Coffee - so thick, it sticks to your spoon! - sweetened with, of all things, condensed milk!
After dinner, we wandered around Bleecker and MacDougal Streets for a while, just chatting away. It is funny how many areas of New York remind me of other areas of the country that I've been to. This particular area made me think of Atlanta for some reason. Nothing in particular... it just felt similar.
Eventually, we headed back over to Soho so that Dana could pick up her luggage from her friend's apartment (she had come into town the day before). I felt pretty cool being in an actual New York apartment. I was too scared to ask what the rent was. The apartment itself was probably about the size of mine, but a two-bedroom whereas mine is called an... efficiency, I think (because the stove is small).
Things were winding down, which was probably good, as I think we were all pretty tired. We headed back to Grand Central Station. The food court was all closed there - I am always shocked when I find something closed in New York. Apparently in my head, they are ALWAYS OPEN. Everything. All of New York should be open all the time. But they're not.
There was some sort of Brazilian street fair going on in Times Square that day, and there were tons of Brazilian people wandering around Grand Central Station. I knew they were Brazilian because of their bright green and yellow shirts. I want to say something funny here, but... it just isn't coming today.
In the end, I did have to let Aaron and Dana onto their train. I thought about staying on the platform and running after the train waving a handkerchief or something. But I didn't have a handkerchief. And I had to go look for Platform 9 and 3/4 (I couldn't find it).
By this time, Susan and I were almost too tired to function. Well, at least I was. And I can read Susan's mind, so... (not really, Susan - stop thinking that!) We decided to get some snacks and get an in-room movie. On the way back to the hotel, we stopped by a shop that had an internet connection (where I started writing about the adventures!) There was an issue with Susan's connection, and something in me snapped - I attribute it to exhaustion and just being in New York - and I actually yelled at the poor man. Now, listen people, I get frustrated, but I simmer and occasionally boil over and take it out on my family and friends. But I don't yell. Except, apparently, in New York. I was so energized by the yelling, that I spent the rest of the walk back to the hotel cutting off all the Brazilian people I could find (a lot).
Back at the hotel, Susan and I watched "A Lot Like Love" and then went to sleep.
Phew, that was a lot of writing. But now, there is only Monday left. I really can't imagine that anyone but Susan (and perhaps my mother) has actually read everything. You'd better, though, because the next time I see you, I will quiz you. Be prepared!
It was starting to get latish - meaning late enough that we had to acknowledge that we would need to start thinking about getting back to Grand Central Station so that Aaron and Dana could make it home. It was determined that we should go to Greenwich Village and find some dinner. Again, I'm not really sure how that decision was made. Though, I think at that point I was thinking more about my aching feet than Aaron or Dana (sorry guys!).
Back on the Subway. I feel so cosmopolitan travelling on subways. No, actually, that's not true. I feel... city-like. I feel cosmopolitan taking a cab. Or while... drinking a... Cosmopolitan.
So, yeah, we ended up on Bleecker Street in Greenwich Village. I tried to channel Jack Kerouac or Allen Ginsberg, but then a car honked or something and I lost my concentration, so I decided to channel my stomach and find a restaurant. (I did Howl a bit though... in my head)
We ended up eating dinner at Lemongrass Grill more out of convenience (Hey look! There's a restuarant) than anything else. It was quite good, though, AND I was able to satisfy my little (aka BIG) coffee craving with some delicioso Thai Coffee - so thick, it sticks to your spoon! - sweetened with, of all things, condensed milk!
After dinner, we wandered around Bleecker and MacDougal Streets for a while, just chatting away. It is funny how many areas of New York remind me of other areas of the country that I've been to. This particular area made me think of Atlanta for some reason. Nothing in particular... it just felt similar.
Eventually, we headed back over to Soho so that Dana could pick up her luggage from her friend's apartment (she had come into town the day before). I felt pretty cool being in an actual New York apartment. I was too scared to ask what the rent was. The apartment itself was probably about the size of mine, but a two-bedroom whereas mine is called an... efficiency, I think (because the stove is small).
Things were winding down, which was probably good, as I think we were all pretty tired. We headed back to Grand Central Station. The food court was all closed there - I am always shocked when I find something closed in New York. Apparently in my head, they are ALWAYS OPEN. Everything. All of New York should be open all the time. But they're not.
There was some sort of Brazilian street fair going on in Times Square that day, and there were tons of Brazilian people wandering around Grand Central Station. I knew they were Brazilian because of their bright green and yellow shirts. I want to say something funny here, but... it just isn't coming today.
In the end, I did have to let Aaron and Dana onto their train. I thought about staying on the platform and running after the train waving a handkerchief or something. But I didn't have a handkerchief. And I had to go look for Platform 9 and 3/4 (I couldn't find it).
By this time, Susan and I were almost too tired to function. Well, at least I was. And I can read Susan's mind, so... (not really, Susan - stop thinking that!) We decided to get some snacks and get an in-room movie. On the way back to the hotel, we stopped by a shop that had an internet connection (where I started writing about the adventures!) There was an issue with Susan's connection, and something in me snapped - I attribute it to exhaustion and just being in New York - and I actually yelled at the poor man. Now, listen people, I get frustrated, but I simmer and occasionally boil over and take it out on my family and friends. But I don't yell. Except, apparently, in New York. I was so energized by the yelling, that I spent the rest of the walk back to the hotel cutting off all the Brazilian people I could find (a lot).
Back at the hotel, Susan and I watched "A Lot Like Love" and then went to sleep.
Phew, that was a lot of writing. But now, there is only Monday left. I really can't imagine that anyone but Susan (and perhaps my mother) has actually read everything. You'd better, though, because the next time I see you, I will quiz you. Be prepared!
Still Sunday
I didn't realize that I would be writing quite so much about our trip. But then, we are really good at cramming a lot of activity into a small period of time. I find myself growing less witty as the week progresses and I get back into the swing of the hospital, though. Sad, I know. Yet I shall overcome! That doesn't, of course, mean that you have to keep reading. In fact... why are you? Shouldn't you be mopping or something? Playing with a boomerang?
If you choose to continue the adventures, read on. Just let me fix the time on my pager first (the battery died).... Okay. NOW read on.
We were last found in the Irish Hunger Memorial. I imagine it was supposed to be touching or thought provoking or something, but I was just not feeling it. There was a lot of grass, so I kept thinking... couldn't they have eaten grass? I'd have at least tried. Grass stew. Grass potatoes. Grass pudding... I bet there's a lot you can do with grass. So, yeah. It was nice and green, though.
We continued our way on to the Staten Isand Ferry, traveling along the Battery. It was a lot of walking, and I was hot and my feet hurt, but... it was hot in New York and my feet hurt with Dana and Aaron (and Susan!), so it was all good. There are a lot of things in Battery Park. We didn't really look at any of them (except to wonder what the pyramid was - turns out it is the Museum of Jewish Heritage. Huh. I didn't know they did pyramids. (actually, it is six-sided, like the Star of David. Duh.))
Walking and walking... There are a lot of dogs in New York. Big dogs, small dogs, costumed dogs... There was even a dog being carried around in one of those papoose-y things people generally carry babies in. Poor pup! For all the dogs, there is not much dog poo. Impressive. Interestingly, there are a lot of dogs in Athens (or there were before the Olympics were there), but they were strays. I saw nary a stray in NYC. Nary a stray. Nary. I like the word nary.
Finally, we did make it to the ferry. There were a lot of people there - a mix of tourists and 'real' people. We hopped on the ferry (actually, we walked, but I've grown tired of talking about walking) and had a quick jaunt over to Staten Island. We were met on the ferry by Aaron's little sister, Anna. (by design, not happenstance) I hadn't seen her since she was a wee child of 18 - now she's 23, I think. So weird how people keep growing.
When we got to Staten Island, we got on the ferry to Manhattan. Except that it was still called the "Staten Island" ferry, not the "Manhattan Island" one. We spent a total of... three minutes, maybe, in Staten Island. Anna bought some batteries there.
Are you seriously still reading this? Batteries! I'm not feeling terribly sparkly today, as I'm writing this within stone's throw of a patient who has been loudly moaning for... two days now.
So, post-ferry, I was in the mood for some coffee (when am I not? in fact... I am right now... mmm... coffee... break time!)
If you choose to continue the adventures, read on. Just let me fix the time on my pager first (the battery died).... Okay. NOW read on.
We were last found in the Irish Hunger Memorial. I imagine it was supposed to be touching or thought provoking or something, but I was just not feeling it. There was a lot of grass, so I kept thinking... couldn't they have eaten grass? I'd have at least tried. Grass stew. Grass potatoes. Grass pudding... I bet there's a lot you can do with grass. So, yeah. It was nice and green, though.
We continued our way on to the Staten Isand Ferry, traveling along the Battery. It was a lot of walking, and I was hot and my feet hurt, but... it was hot in New York and my feet hurt with Dana and Aaron (and Susan!), so it was all good. There are a lot of things in Battery Park. We didn't really look at any of them (except to wonder what the pyramid was - turns out it is the Museum of Jewish Heritage. Huh. I didn't know they did pyramids. (actually, it is six-sided, like the Star of David. Duh.))
Walking and walking... There are a lot of dogs in New York. Big dogs, small dogs, costumed dogs... There was even a dog being carried around in one of those papoose-y things people generally carry babies in. Poor pup! For all the dogs, there is not much dog poo. Impressive. Interestingly, there are a lot of dogs in Athens (or there were before the Olympics were there), but they were strays. I saw nary a stray in NYC. Nary a stray. Nary. I like the word nary.
Finally, we did make it to the ferry. There were a lot of people there - a mix of tourists and 'real' people. We hopped on the ferry (actually, we walked, but I've grown tired of talking about walking) and had a quick jaunt over to Staten Island. We were met on the ferry by Aaron's little sister, Anna. (by design, not happenstance) I hadn't seen her since she was a wee child of 18 - now she's 23, I think. So weird how people keep growing.
When we got to Staten Island, we got on the ferry to Manhattan. Except that it was still called the "Staten Island" ferry, not the "Manhattan Island" one. We spent a total of... three minutes, maybe, in Staten Island. Anna bought some batteries there.
Are you seriously still reading this? Batteries! I'm not feeling terribly sparkly today, as I'm writing this within stone's throw of a patient who has been loudly moaning for... two days now.
So, post-ferry, I was in the mood for some coffee (when am I not? in fact... I am right now... mmm... coffee... break time!)
Sep 6, 2005
And Then it Was Sunday
We woke excited for more fun on Sunday. Well, at least I awoke excited for more fun. I can't speak for Susan. On a side note, for anyone who has not had the pleasure of seeing Susan wake up. She goes from what appears to be a deep, deep sleep to sitting up talking. It is pretty amazing. It's like **sleep...sleep...sleep** "I'll take a shower now since I take more time afterwards getting ready." It is quite shocking, really.
Let's see. We ended up at Cosi for breakfast, which was quick and delicious. (But be forewarned, the Manager has no 'accsess' to the safe) Then we hopped on the One train up to the "Church and Gown" area (I learned that from one of our New York Walking Tour cards). Susan is a huge fan of Madeleine L'Engle, and wanted to attend a church service at Ms. L'Engle's home church.
The Cathedral Church of Saint John the Divine. Wowwie-wow-wow. What a church. It is the kind of building that can only be described by making that sing-songy "awwhhh" sound while shaking your hands in front of you to try to describe the humongous enormity of it. It is also beautifully ominous. It is an Episcopalian church, so I thought it would be somewhat similar to my own Lutheran services. Hmm. There, I was wrong. They used incense. Lots and lots of incense. It was in this gold hangy thing - like what I associate with Catholic churches - and they swung it all around. It was like crazy-incense-swinging day at church or something. Except that I think I was the only one so amused by it all. Everyone else was very solemn and reverential, and even bowed towards crazy incense-swinging man. Maybe they were bowing at the incense. There was also lots of singy-chanting. We did the entire Nicene's Creed in one tone. That felt long. And the sermon itself was not a milquetoast-y Lutheran sermon (or even a fiery Lutheran sermon) it was like a campaign speech on a political trail. It was too liberal for even me. (Granted, I'm not the most liberal liberal) Very, very odd.
Wow. That was a lot of writing about the church. Man, that incense just really got to me. Oh, and the communion wine tasted funny. Jesus' blood tastes different in Episcopalian. (Is it sacreligious to say that?)
Because church went long, we bypassed the subway (my executive decision) because we were already late meeting my Special Guests. I thrilled with excitement as we crazily rushed, in true NYC-cabbie fashion, towards Grand Central Station.
Special Guest 1: Aaron. I met Aaron the very first night of college. I went to the pop machine (it was in Minnesota, therefore 'pop' is infinitely more correct than 'soda') with a dollar, desperate for a Diet Something. Unfortunately, the machine only took coins. Thwarted! Just then, a guy came up to the snack machine, his own dollar in tow in search of... let's say peanuts. The guy's dollar didn't work in the snack machine, so we made a trade. Peanuts in hand, he was satisfied. I however remained parched. He didn't have any change to give me for the pop machine, BUT! he did have Diet Coke in his room, and was happy to share. The rest was history. Aaron and I maintained a good, if sometimes slightly competitive (mostly on my end, as he generally won) friendship throughout our time at St. Olaf. I had not seen him since graduation, five years ago.
Special Guest 2: Dana. I met Dana in Salt Lake City, Utah at our orientation for AmeriCorps. She and I were two of the five volunteers headed for Sitka, Alaska. As I am wont to do, I made very fast first opinions. Everyone seemed very nice, but I did note in my trusty journal that Dana seemed like she might be 'boring.' That's all okay, though, as Dana labeled me as likely to be a 'snob.' We spent the rest of our year in Alaska proving each other wrong. She's the snob and I'm boring... Wait! No, both of us are freaking cool and can spend hours talking about absolutely nothing. I had not seen Dana since we each left for our respective medical schools three years ago.
I honestly wasn't sure if I'd easily recognize Aaron and Dana (who had already found each other before I arrived). But, there they were, in the middle of Grand Central Station, just like I remembered them. That was very cool. So we made our introductions and decided to head towards the financial district/waterfront are. I was in kind of a blur at the time, (I was still like "Oh my gosh! It's Aaron! And Dana! Here! With me! Aaron! Dana! Wow! This is weird! But not weird! How weird that it is not weird! Dana and Aaron!") so I don't really remember how we made that decision.
After some aimless wandering and bantering and catching up and getting to know each other, we ended up at the Heartland Brewery for lunch.
At some point, we decided that it would be fun (and free!) to take the Staten Island ferry out to... well, Staten Island. It would give us a good view of the Statue of Liberty and of the city skyline. So we walked (and walked) over towards the Battery. We made a little side trip to the Irish Hunger Memorial (Irish Hunger Memorial? Yes.)
Ooh. And now I must go help with an A-line. By 'help' I mean 'stand and watch and try not to fall asleep.' Ahh, the life of a med student...
Let's see. We ended up at Cosi for breakfast, which was quick and delicious. (But be forewarned, the Manager has no 'accsess' to the safe) Then we hopped on the One train up to the "Church and Gown" area (I learned that from one of our New York Walking Tour cards). Susan is a huge fan of Madeleine L'Engle, and wanted to attend a church service at Ms. L'Engle's home church.
The Cathedral Church of Saint John the Divine. Wowwie-wow-wow. What a church. It is the kind of building that can only be described by making that sing-songy "awwhhh" sound while shaking your hands in front of you to try to describe the humongous enormity of it. It is also beautifully ominous. It is an Episcopalian church, so I thought it would be somewhat similar to my own Lutheran services. Hmm. There, I was wrong. They used incense. Lots and lots of incense. It was in this gold hangy thing - like what I associate with Catholic churches - and they swung it all around. It was like crazy-incense-swinging day at church or something. Except that I think I was the only one so amused by it all. Everyone else was very solemn and reverential, and even bowed towards crazy incense-swinging man. Maybe they were bowing at the incense. There was also lots of singy-chanting. We did the entire Nicene's Creed in one tone. That felt long. And the sermon itself was not a milquetoast-y Lutheran sermon (or even a fiery Lutheran sermon) it was like a campaign speech on a political trail. It was too liberal for even me. (Granted, I'm not the most liberal liberal) Very, very odd.
Wow. That was a lot of writing about the church. Man, that incense just really got to me. Oh, and the communion wine tasted funny. Jesus' blood tastes different in Episcopalian. (Is it sacreligious to say that?)
Because church went long, we bypassed the subway (my executive decision) because we were already late meeting my Special Guests. I thrilled with excitement as we crazily rushed, in true NYC-cabbie fashion, towards Grand Central Station.
Special Guest 1: Aaron. I met Aaron the very first night of college. I went to the pop machine (it was in Minnesota, therefore 'pop' is infinitely more correct than 'soda') with a dollar, desperate for a Diet Something. Unfortunately, the machine only took coins. Thwarted! Just then, a guy came up to the snack machine, his own dollar in tow in search of... let's say peanuts. The guy's dollar didn't work in the snack machine, so we made a trade. Peanuts in hand, he was satisfied. I however remained parched. He didn't have any change to give me for the pop machine, BUT! he did have Diet Coke in his room, and was happy to share. The rest was history. Aaron and I maintained a good, if sometimes slightly competitive (mostly on my end, as he generally won) friendship throughout our time at St. Olaf. I had not seen him since graduation, five years ago.
Special Guest 2: Dana. I met Dana in Salt Lake City, Utah at our orientation for AmeriCorps. She and I were two of the five volunteers headed for Sitka, Alaska. As I am wont to do, I made very fast first opinions. Everyone seemed very nice, but I did note in my trusty journal that Dana seemed like she might be 'boring.' That's all okay, though, as Dana labeled me as likely to be a 'snob.' We spent the rest of our year in Alaska proving each other wrong. She's the snob and I'm boring... Wait! No, both of us are freaking cool and can spend hours talking about absolutely nothing. I had not seen Dana since we each left for our respective medical schools three years ago.
I honestly wasn't sure if I'd easily recognize Aaron and Dana (who had already found each other before I arrived). But, there they were, in the middle of Grand Central Station, just like I remembered them. That was very cool. So we made our introductions and decided to head towards the financial district/waterfront are. I was in kind of a blur at the time, (I was still like "Oh my gosh! It's Aaron! And Dana! Here! With me! Aaron! Dana! Wow! This is weird! But not weird! How weird that it is not weird! Dana and Aaron!") so I don't really remember how we made that decision.
After some aimless wandering and bantering and catching up and getting to know each other, we ended up at the Heartland Brewery for lunch.
At some point, we decided that it would be fun (and free!) to take the Staten Island ferry out to... well, Staten Island. It would give us a good view of the Statue of Liberty and of the city skyline. So we walked (and walked) over towards the Battery. We made a little side trip to the Irish Hunger Memorial (Irish Hunger Memorial? Yes.)
Ooh. And now I must go help with an A-line. By 'help' I mean 'stand and watch and try not to fall asleep.' Ahh, the life of a med student...
Adventures, part 2
When we last left Brenna and Susan, they were happily ensconced in a land of magic, watching the "true" story of the witches of Oz play out in musical splendor before them. (We were also left waiting with the promise of 'more writing tomorrow.' Obviously this did not happen... oops... what ya gonna do?)
Alright, so I'll resist going on and on (and on) about Wicked, and just encourage you all to see it or at least to purchase the CD and memorize the music so that you can put together your own impromptu interpretation of it to astound and amaze your co-workers or the people at the local Krispy Kreme.
We did a little Stage-Door-Stalking as Susan wanted to see Shoshana Bean (aka Elphaba) in person. Alas, the green-tinted maiden decided to forgo an appearance. Susan managed to get over the disappointment relatively easy, however, and we went back to Restaurant Row in search of dinner. Again, dinner at eleven o'clock at night. Nice. We found a great little pub called O'Flaherty's that was filled with books (books!) and good live sing-a-long music.
A couple block jaunt back to the hotel, and then up 48 floors and we were in the Marriott Marquis' rotating restaurant called The View. As we waited in line to get seated a blonde lady asked the hostess what the view was of. She was totally serious. The hostess looked a tad taken aback (trying to figure out, I presume, if the woman was actually serious) then brightly replied "all of Manhatten." Like you'd travel to the 48th floor, sit in a rotating restaurant and get a view of... posters on the wall? I don't know. That was worth a good chuckle, though. The view from The View was pretty spectacular.
Finally, we did make it back to our room (with only a 39th floor, non-rotating view - though still awesome) and got some well-deserved shut-eye.
More to come. I've only covered Saturday, after all!!!
Alright, so I'll resist going on and on (and on) about Wicked, and just encourage you all to see it or at least to purchase the CD and memorize the music so that you can put together your own impromptu interpretation of it to astound and amaze your co-workers or the people at the local Krispy Kreme.
We did a little Stage-Door-Stalking as Susan wanted to see Shoshana Bean (aka Elphaba) in person. Alas, the green-tinted maiden decided to forgo an appearance. Susan managed to get over the disappointment relatively easy, however, and we went back to Restaurant Row in search of dinner. Again, dinner at eleven o'clock at night. Nice. We found a great little pub called O'Flaherty's that was filled with books (books!) and good live sing-a-long music.
A couple block jaunt back to the hotel, and then up 48 floors and we were in the Marriott Marquis' rotating restaurant called The View. As we waited in line to get seated a blonde lady asked the hostess what the view was of. She was totally serious. The hostess looked a tad taken aback (trying to figure out, I presume, if the woman was actually serious) then brightly replied "all of Manhatten." Like you'd travel to the 48th floor, sit in a rotating restaurant and get a view of... posters on the wall? I don't know. That was worth a good chuckle, though. The view from The View was pretty spectacular.
Finally, we did make it back to our room (with only a 39th floor, non-rotating view - though still awesome) and got some well-deserved shut-eye.
More to come. I've only covered Saturday, after all!!!
Sep 4, 2005
Adventures
I send my pardons to Susan who is currently sitting on my left dealing with an idiot who does not understand that 2 minutes online does NOT equal the thirty she already paid for. Sigh...
Alrighty. Despite my worries, we did make it to New York completely without any trouble at all. Except that they had to check Susan's film rolls for gun powder. (There was none)
Friday night, we hit Restaurant Row and got some Thai food. The lovely thing about it was that it was like eleven o'clock at night. It is really, really hard to find something open at eleven o'clock at night at home. So nice.
Mmmm. Let's see. We've done so much that I can't even remember!
I got up early on Saturday morning to work out. Shocking, I know, but how can you resist the lure of working out while looking over Times Square from the 23rd floor.
Susan and I made it out of the hotel before 10. Also shocking if you are familiar with either of our weekend sleeping schedules. (Saturday morning? What's that?)
We ate breakfast at Majestic Deli. Relatively unremarkable, except for the part where Susan threw her breakfast on the ground. No, it didn't make her mad, and no she was not trying to emulate the klutziness of yours truly. She was just trying to make her big splash on Broadway. Haha. Splash.
On the flight up from Greensboro, Susan had a Lucky magazine that
::Interruption, as I'm choking on the extremely overbearing and strong perfume of the woman standing near me. *Hack. Hack*::
talked about some interesting areas in NYC. One of the things that struck our fancy was a "Young Designer's Fair" in Nolita. That's "North of LIttle Italy" for those in the know. AKA me. I purchased some pretty cool earrings (aren't they lovely?) and Susan found a nifty, hand made dress which she actually got to purchase from the cool-accented designer herself. Fun.
Then we... wandered around Nolita, fell in love with various too-expensive purses and too-expensive skirts and a mirror. That was Susan who loved the mirror. (and it didn't even tell her she was the fairest in the land - it just sat there!)
Eventually we wandered into Little Italy after a late lunch at the Lovely Day Cafe. Delish. OH!!! And I almost forgot the most important thing: Rice to Riches. Rice to Riches, people, that's right. It is a desserty type place (akin to Baskin Robbins or Maggie Moo's) that specializes in RICE PUDDING. Who KNEW that rice pudding could be so sexy? It was terribly good. So good that we're both hankering to go back for more. I recommend the chocolate chip flirt.
Ummm... A bit of Little Italy, a bit of Chinatown, and a bit of frustration with the massive, slow-moving crowds. And a bit of purchasing of cheap junk (me) and a quest for the perfect shoe (Susan).
We finally had to get back to the hotel (did I mention that the hotel is magnificent? It is. The fairest in the... block) to change for... WICKED. Wicked, Wicked, Wicked, oh how I love thee. Let me count the ways. 1. You rock. 2. I love you. 3. Green is cool.
In the ... I've completely lost the word I was looking for. I'm almost out of time. That's what I was trying to say. I'll write more tomorrow, when I can expound proliferatively on our Saturday night and Sunday.
Oh, I forgot to mention the coffee at Ferrera's in Little Italy. Mmmmm. Love coffee. Love.
Alrighty. Despite my worries, we did make it to New York completely without any trouble at all. Except that they had to check Susan's film rolls for gun powder. (There was none)
Friday night, we hit Restaurant Row and got some Thai food. The lovely thing about it was that it was like eleven o'clock at night. It is really, really hard to find something open at eleven o'clock at night at home. So nice.
Mmmm. Let's see. We've done so much that I can't even remember!
I got up early on Saturday morning to work out. Shocking, I know, but how can you resist the lure of working out while looking over Times Square from the 23rd floor.
Susan and I made it out of the hotel before 10. Also shocking if you are familiar with either of our weekend sleeping schedules. (Saturday morning? What's that?)
We ate breakfast at Majestic Deli. Relatively unremarkable, except for the part where Susan threw her breakfast on the ground. No, it didn't make her mad, and no she was not trying to emulate the klutziness of yours truly. She was just trying to make her big splash on Broadway. Haha. Splash.
On the flight up from Greensboro, Susan had a Lucky magazine that
::Interruption, as I'm choking on the extremely overbearing and strong perfume of the woman standing near me. *Hack. Hack*::
talked about some interesting areas in NYC. One of the things that struck our fancy was a "Young Designer's Fair" in Nolita. That's "North of LIttle Italy" for those in the know. AKA me. I purchased some pretty cool earrings (aren't they lovely?) and Susan found a nifty, hand made dress which she actually got to purchase from the cool-accented designer herself. Fun.
Then we... wandered around Nolita, fell in love with various too-expensive purses and too-expensive skirts and a mirror. That was Susan who loved the mirror. (and it didn't even tell her she was the fairest in the land - it just sat there!)
Eventually we wandered into Little Italy after a late lunch at the Lovely Day Cafe. Delish. OH!!! And I almost forgot the most important thing: Rice to Riches. Rice to Riches, people, that's right. It is a desserty type place (akin to Baskin Robbins or Maggie Moo's) that specializes in RICE PUDDING. Who KNEW that rice pudding could be so sexy? It was terribly good. So good that we're both hankering to go back for more. I recommend the chocolate chip flirt.
Ummm... A bit of Little Italy, a bit of Chinatown, and a bit of frustration with the massive, slow-moving crowds. And a bit of purchasing of cheap junk (me) and a quest for the perfect shoe (Susan).
We finally had to get back to the hotel (did I mention that the hotel is magnificent? It is. The fairest in the... block) to change for... WICKED. Wicked, Wicked, Wicked, oh how I love thee. Let me count the ways. 1. You rock. 2. I love you. 3. Green is cool.
In the ... I've completely lost the word I was looking for. I'm almost out of time. That's what I was trying to say. I'll write more tomorrow, when I can expound proliferatively on our Saturday night and Sunday.
Oh, I forgot to mention the coffee at Ferrera's in Little Italy. Mmmmm. Love coffee. Love.
Sep 2, 2005
Take a Bite...
...of the Big Apple. T-minus 3.5 hours until departure for New York. I've been living all week on edge, just waiting for the thing that would happen to prevent this trip. Hopefully, I can continue to avoid catastrophe for the next seven or so hours and make it to the hotel unscathed.
On the agenda for the weekend:
Today: Fly to NYC, have fun
Saturday: Have fun, see Wicked, have more fun
Sunday: Fancy church, See two friends that I haven't seen in three/five years, more crazy fun
Monday: Have fun
Does that not sound perfect? Susan and I are determined to actually make it out of Times Square on this visit to New York. If we can avoid the draw of the TKTS booth. It is like an adddiction. Seriously.
Keep posted for the Further Adventures of Brenna.
(We haven't given an official title to this vacation yet. Fear not, it will happen in its own time.)
On the agenda for the weekend:
Today: Fly to NYC, have fun
Saturday: Have fun, see Wicked, have more fun
Sunday: Fancy church, See two friends that I haven't seen in three/five years, more crazy fun
Monday: Have fun
Does that not sound perfect? Susan and I are determined to actually make it out of Times Square on this visit to New York. If we can avoid the draw of the TKTS booth. It is like an adddiction. Seriously.
Keep posted for the Further Adventures of Brenna.
(We haven't given an official title to this vacation yet. Fear not, it will happen in its own time.)
Sep 1, 2005
Breathe
Alrighty. Applications submitted. Now it is all out of my hands... Which is both terrifying and relieving.
Of course, there is the Seattle problem, but for now I'm going to forget about it and just float on my little cloud...
Happy, happy little cloud.
Of course, there is the Seattle problem, but for now I'm going to forget about it and just float on my little cloud...
Happy, happy little cloud.
Aug 31, 2005
Ripple Effect
Even though I'm physically closer to Katrina's destruction than many I know, I did not expect the ramifications to affect me more than paying a bit more for my gas.
Then I logged on to ERAS (which, by the way, I can submit tomorrow. TOMORROW.):
I don't think that will really apply to 'my' programs, but it is still shocking!
PLUS, there is the rumor going around that airlines are going to cancel flights that aren't booked due to fears of jet fuel shortages. And I'm flying to NY this weekend! Never fear, if the flight is cancelled, Susan and I will be hot-footing it there in SUV style, despite the $4.00/gallon gas.
And, despite what it sounds like with what I have written, my thoughts and prayers are with the people of the Gulf Coast. I only wish I was an actual MD so I could go help. No one wants a medical student in a tragedy. We'd just gum things up.
Then I logged on to ERAS (which, by the way, I can submit tomorrow. TOMORROW.):
MYERAS ALERT:
Due to the damage from hurricane Katrina ERAS emphasizes the importance of contacting programs prior to applying to confirm they are accepting applications.
I don't think that will really apply to 'my' programs, but it is still shocking!
PLUS, there is the rumor going around that airlines are going to cancel flights that aren't booked due to fears of jet fuel shortages. And I'm flying to NY this weekend! Never fear, if the flight is cancelled, Susan and I will be hot-footing it there in SUV style, despite the $4.00/gallon gas.
And, despite what it sounds like with what I have written, my thoughts and prayers are with the people of the Gulf Coast. I only wish I was an actual MD so I could go help. No one wants a medical student in a tragedy. We'd just gum things up.
Aug 30, 2005
Bada Bing
By this point we all know how I feel about adult patients in general and the ICU in particular. (In brief: it is like having my soul sucked out through my toes) I had an experience yesterday that defies all words. I haven't even been able to file it under 'why adult medicine is interesting' or 'why adult medicine sucks.'
I was hanging in the ICU like normal yesterday afternoon working on ERAS application stuff (which we can submit on THURSDAY). Something aggravated me greatly (a whole 'nother story), so I decided to take a brief walk around the hospital. I left right as they were rolling a post-op patient up from the PACU (not pacu). I was gone for about twenty minutes, and when I came back in, I saw that everyone was clustered around the new patient's bed, which was relatively normal. Then I realized that there were TOO many people clustered there. And that some of the people were donning sterile gowns. And that one person was CRACKING HER CHEST. That's when I realized that something unusual was going on.
Turns out the patient's heart had stopped beating, and chest compressions weren't working, and she conveniently had a nice un-healed incision through her sternum, and bada-bing, bada-boom. Open heart surgery in the ICU.
The rest of the afternoon progressed in a similar fashion. Things just went crazy. I was actually happy to have stuff to do, even if a lot of it was just fetching and holding. (get me the chart! I need a suture removal kit!) I did get to do some procedure-ish stuff yesterday as well. I changed two lines over wire - which involves sticking a wire into a central line that is already inserted, pulling out the old line, sticking in a new one and stitching it down. I don't get to do the actual stick, which is generally the hardest part, but it is still a good chance to do something.
And during the open heart surgery, I got to squeeze in fluids. Which sounds like what it is. I squeezed a little plastic tube to make fluids go in faster.
In the end, it didn't matter. When you reach a point where you need your chest opened emergently, your chances of survival are minimal. We didn't beat the odds on this one.
I remember the first time a patient of mine died. I was horrified. I didn't write it down here, but I remember feeling that the world should stop to acknowledge the passing of a soul from this world. Even at that time, I knew that I'd have to accept death as a part of medical practice. I didn't realize that it would happen so quickly. Bada bing, bada boom: I'm 'professional.' I watched this person die yesterday, and what I'm left with is the coolness of seeing it all, and doing procedures, rather than the grief of losing a person.
I guess it is what we need to do to keep functioning on some level. I have yet to lose a pediatric patient, however. Somehow I feel that that will be different.
I was hanging in the ICU like normal yesterday afternoon working on ERAS application stuff (which we can submit on THURSDAY). Something aggravated me greatly (a whole 'nother story), so I decided to take a brief walk around the hospital. I left right as they were rolling a post-op patient up from the PACU (not pacu). I was gone for about twenty minutes, and when I came back in, I saw that everyone was clustered around the new patient's bed, which was relatively normal. Then I realized that there were TOO many people clustered there. And that some of the people were donning sterile gowns. And that one person was CRACKING HER CHEST. That's when I realized that something unusual was going on.
Turns out the patient's heart had stopped beating, and chest compressions weren't working, and she conveniently had a nice un-healed incision through her sternum, and bada-bing, bada-boom. Open heart surgery in the ICU.
The rest of the afternoon progressed in a similar fashion. Things just went crazy. I was actually happy to have stuff to do, even if a lot of it was just fetching and holding. (get me the chart! I need a suture removal kit!) I did get to do some procedure-ish stuff yesterday as well. I changed two lines over wire - which involves sticking a wire into a central line that is already inserted, pulling out the old line, sticking in a new one and stitching it down. I don't get to do the actual stick, which is generally the hardest part, but it is still a good chance to do something.
And during the open heart surgery, I got to squeeze in fluids. Which sounds like what it is. I squeezed a little plastic tube to make fluids go in faster.
In the end, it didn't matter. When you reach a point where you need your chest opened emergently, your chances of survival are minimal. We didn't beat the odds on this one.
I remember the first time a patient of mine died. I was horrified. I didn't write it down here, but I remember feeling that the world should stop to acknowledge the passing of a soul from this world. Even at that time, I knew that I'd have to accept death as a part of medical practice. I didn't realize that it would happen so quickly. Bada bing, bada boom: I'm 'professional.' I watched this person die yesterday, and what I'm left with is the coolness of seeing it all, and doing procedures, rather than the grief of losing a person.
I guess it is what we need to do to keep functioning on some level. I have yet to lose a pediatric patient, however. Somehow I feel that that will be different.
Aug 27, 2005
Good Advice
(From those who know better than me)
I was told tonight that one (especially if one is female) shouldn't wear anything to a residency interview that a man who is not gay would remember.
Makes sense, no?
I was told tonight that one (especially if one is female) shouldn't wear anything to a residency interview that a man who is not gay would remember.
Makes sense, no?
Aug 26, 2005
Fellow
My fellow in the ICU hums all the time. Hmm-hmmm-hmmm. No tune, just humming. And he reads out loud. And he sits perched over the computer screen like a big scary bird about to snap up a worm.
It drives me BONKERS!
Now it is time to round. Again.
It drives me BONKERS!
Now it is time to round. Again.
Aug 25, 2005
Dancing Through Life
My goal for today is to spend as little time as possible in the ICU. So far, outside of rounds, I have spent 35 minutes there. Including rounds, it has been four hours and 35 minutes. Did I mention that I hate rounding?
In that 35 minutes, I waltzed in, told the resident and attending that my patient's urine showed "Too Numerous to Count" bacteria and that is phosphorus was improving (it was 0.2 this morning - yes that is point two). Then I waltzed on out. 'Twas fantastic.
I really, really, really want to take a nap.
In that 35 minutes, I waltzed in, told the resident and attending that my patient's urine showed "Too Numerous to Count" bacteria and that is phosphorus was improving (it was 0.2 this morning - yes that is point two). Then I waltzed on out. 'Twas fantastic.
I really, really, really want to take a nap.
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