(as in "Getting to Know You" and music and stuff)
Music survey...
1) Using band names, spell out your first name:
Bananarama
REM
Eminem
Natalie Merchant
New Main Street Singers
Alison Kraus
2) Have you ever had a song written about you?
No. Nothing rhymes with Brenna.
3) What song makes you cry?
That song, where at the end, the singer hits you on the thumb with a sledgehammer.
4) What song makes you happy?
Depends on my mood...
5) What do you like to listen to before bed?
Silence.
6)Name a song by Coal Chamber:
No.
7) Who was/were your idol/s when you were younger?
I didn't have any musical idols. Unless you count Julie Andrews. She was in musicals. And I really enjoyed her ability to pull hat racks out of carpet bags. I always wanted to have a carpet bag. They make me think of Anne of Green Gables. She was an idol of mine, too. But not musical. Carpet bags also make me think of the post-Civil War days (the post-antebellum?), and the carpetbaggers. Who were not my idols.
8) First album you ever bought?
I got five CDs from Columbia House when I got my first CD player. I don't remember them all, but they included Gloria Estefan and Boys II Men.
9) Name a song that reminds you of someone and why:
That song "Freshmen" by that whiny-sounding guy reminds me of my first year roommate in college, because she played it incessantly. I think she was mourning Kurt Cobain's death or something. Seriously! She had a freaking huge poster of him that would stare at me when I tried to study. Though I don't know how/if whiny-guy Freshmen singer and Cobain were related.
a p p e a r a n c e
HEIGHT: 5'8"
HAIR COLOR: Blonde
EYE COLOR: Blue
PIERCINGS: ears
TATTOOS: one
Hey! Except for the height, I didn't have to change this from my sister's at all!
r i g h t n o w
WHAT COLOR PANTS ARE YOU WEARING?: Good question. I've had a hard time classifying the color of the scrubs here at the hospital. I shall call them seafoam-emerald-misty-mountain-green.
WHAT SONG ARE YOU LISTENING TO?: The melodious sound of "Unit Secretary Yelling at Transporters"
WHAT TASTE IS IN YOUR MOUTH?: Saliva.
WHAT'S THE WEATHER LIKE?: No freaking clue.
HOW ARE YOU?: SO excited to have some mess-around time to blog... I mean, put my presentation together.
f a v o r i t e s
TV SHOW: I don't know...
CONDITIONER: Dove
BOOK: Again, I can't choose just one.
NON-ALCOHOLIC DRINK: Diet Pepsi.
THING TO DO ON THE WEEKEND: Movies.
BAND OR GROUP or SINGER or RAPPER: Why must I have ONE favorite of things? Can't I just love many things? I am a unique and diverse person who cannot be pinned down, fergoodness sake.
h a v e y o u
BROKEN THE LAW: I don't know...
RAN AWAY FROM HOME: Yes. I was 10, and I went to the 'stream' at our apartment complex. My parents, ever-concerned, took my sisters to Dairy Queen in response.
SNUCK OUT OF THE HOUSE: Actually, no.
EVER GONE SKINNY DIPPING: Nope.
MADE A PRANK PHONE CALL: I can't remember if I actually did, or if we only talked about it at slumber parties. If I ever did, it was either to my parents or other friends.
USED YOUR PARENTS' CREDIT CARD BEFORE: Nope.
SKIPPED SCHOOL BEFORE: For a half day in high school. I had to be back for 5th period.
FELL ASLEEP IN THE SHOWER/BATH: Nope. Though I did have a patient that did. But that was because she couldn't get up.
BEEN IN A SCHOOL PLAY: Yup.
LET A FRIEND CRY ON YOUR SHOULDER: Not literally.
l o v e
BOYFRIEND: this is a really long survey.
GIRLFRIEND: gross, thats worse than having a boyfriend even.
SEXUALITY: straight
CHILDREN: blech, thats worse than having a girlfriend even.
CURRENT CRUSH: Dave
BEEN IN LOVE?: oh man! thats worse than having children even
HAD A HARD TIME GETTING OVER SOMEONE: no, n e v e r
BEEN HURT?: i'm bullet proof
GONE OUT WITH A SOMEONE YOU ONLY KNEW FOR THREE DAYS: stupid question, next..
I'm agreeing with my sis verbatim on this one. Though I wouldn't say my crush is Dave. I just don't feel like answering these questions. Cause they're annoying.
r a n d o m
DO YOU HAVE A JOB: Nope!
YOUR CD PLAYER HAS IN IT RIGHT NOW: A Bluegrass mix CD
IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE?: Cornflower
WHAT MAKES YOU HAPPY?: So many things.
WHO MAKES YOU THE HAPPIEST?: I control my own happiness, though many people contribute.
WHAT'S THE NEXT CD YOU'RE GONNA GET?: Natalie Merchant's House Carpenter's Daughter. I had a copy of it, but I lost it, so decided to actually get the real thing. Mel- I have White Stripes - wanna copy?
WHO DO YOU CONSIDER GOOD FRIENDS?: People who aren't mean to me.
WHAT DO YOU LIKE TO DO?: Laugh (amen, sistah!)
w h e n / w h a t w a s t h e l a s t
TIME YOU CRIED?: Last Tuesday, on call, in the ED CT scan room.
YOU GOT A REAL LETTER?: Ed McMahon writes to me personally every year.
GOT E-MAIL: A few minutes ago.
THING YOU PURCHASED: Coffee.
TV PROGRAM YOU WATCHED: Renovate My Family
MOVIE YOU SAW AT THE THEATER: Garden State. SOOOOO good.
Okay... I quit now. Even I'm sick of getting to know me!
Please, gentle readers, leave your own tidbits of your life. I'd love to know what everyone else does/thinks/believes/listens to. :)
Oct 3, 2004
Sep 30, 2004
The Longest Day
Somehow, it is Thursday.
Tuesday was the longest day in the world. Ever. It went from 5am until noon the next day. What's that? 32 hours? Something like that. But, oh, wow, was my bed comfortable. So comfortable, in fact, that once I laid down at 1:30 to 'nap' for a couple of hours, I didn't wake up until 9:30. (At which point I panicked, thinking I was over four hours late for work. It took me a full 2 minutes to realize that it was dark outside, and, therefore, still night) I got up in time to watch the Boardroom part of The Apprentice, finish reading book the thirteenth in A Series of Unfortunate Events, and brush my teeth. Then, I went back to bed, and got up this morning, refreshed, and awake.
Some things I discovered, after a full 31+ hours of straight working (except for rounds, I only got to sit for about two hours total during that time):
1. It is, indeed, possible to stay up for 30 hours and still make sense.
2. Around 20 hours, you get dizzy.
3. Somewhere around 23 hours, it is really hard to not burst into tears.
4. The hardest part of constant motion: feet and knees. My feet have never hurt so bad. Definitely contributed to the almost bursting into tears. I left the CT scanning room to sit for a minute, and the resident told me to go back in there to make sure the patient was okay. I wanted to slug him. After a good cry, of course.
5. The combination of sleep deprivation and caffeine overload can make you think you're in love. In other news: I've met the man I'm going to marry (not really, but I've always wanted to say that. And wouldn't it be cool if I do end up marrying this guy, and I can say "I said that I was going to marry you the day I met you," and we can put it in our wedding vows and people will cry, cause it's so romantic, and our children will make us tell them the story every night before they go to sleep, and we'll all live happily ever after. In Venice.)
6. It's at about 24 hours that you simply stop caring.
Completely outside the realm of call: On my last day on Vascular Surgery, my attending tried to convince me to go into surgery. He said I have "good hands." Today, one of the interns I worked with on surgery tried to convince me to go into surgery, saying that I have the "character" for it. WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE??? I am not a surgeon. Well, okay. I could really picture myself working with these people, and doing this kind of stuff. But I'm too lazy! Actually, I'm not lazy, but I value my free time way too much to give it all away. Surgeons, as a group, are the hardest working people that I have ever met. But as a result, they have no life. I have heard many of the males (from intern to fellow) say that they haven't seen their children awake for days. That is not cool. Which is why there are so few females in surgery, I think. If there wasn't that issue, I definitely would consider it. Scary, huh?
Tuesday was the longest day in the world. Ever. It went from 5am until noon the next day. What's that? 32 hours? Something like that. But, oh, wow, was my bed comfortable. So comfortable, in fact, that once I laid down at 1:30 to 'nap' for a couple of hours, I didn't wake up until 9:30. (At which point I panicked, thinking I was over four hours late for work. It took me a full 2 minutes to realize that it was dark outside, and, therefore, still night) I got up in time to watch the Boardroom part of The Apprentice, finish reading book the thirteenth in A Series of Unfortunate Events, and brush my teeth. Then, I went back to bed, and got up this morning, refreshed, and awake.
Some things I discovered, after a full 31+ hours of straight working (except for rounds, I only got to sit for about two hours total during that time):
1. It is, indeed, possible to stay up for 30 hours and still make sense.
2. Around 20 hours, you get dizzy.
3. Somewhere around 23 hours, it is really hard to not burst into tears.
4. The hardest part of constant motion: feet and knees. My feet have never hurt so bad. Definitely contributed to the almost bursting into tears. I left the CT scanning room to sit for a minute, and the resident told me to go back in there to make sure the patient was okay. I wanted to slug him. After a good cry, of course.
5. The combination of sleep deprivation and caffeine overload can make you think you're in love. In other news: I've met the man I'm going to marry (not really, but I've always wanted to say that. And wouldn't it be cool if I do end up marrying this guy, and I can say "I said that I was going to marry you the day I met you," and we can put it in our wedding vows and people will cry, cause it's so romantic, and our children will make us tell them the story every night before they go to sleep, and we'll all live happily ever after. In Venice.)
6. It's at about 24 hours that you simply stop caring.
Completely outside the realm of call: On my last day on Vascular Surgery, my attending tried to convince me to go into surgery. He said I have "good hands." Today, one of the interns I worked with on surgery tried to convince me to go into surgery, saying that I have the "character" for it. WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE??? I am not a surgeon. Well, okay. I could really picture myself working with these people, and doing this kind of stuff. But I'm too lazy! Actually, I'm not lazy, but I value my free time way too much to give it all away. Surgeons, as a group, are the hardest working people that I have ever met. But as a result, they have no life. I have heard many of the males (from intern to fellow) say that they haven't seen their children awake for days. That is not cool. Which is why there are so few females in surgery, I think. If there wasn't that issue, I definitely would consider it. Scary, huh?
Sep 28, 2004
Snapshots of Forever
I started this on Tuesday night, but as I was RUNNING around the whole night, I never had a chance to finish it. Eh, thinks I, I'll post it anyway.
My first night on Trauma Call. It's an overnight call, which means there is the potential for me to be up all night. I don't think I've done that before... I've gone to bed exceptionally late (8am or so), but there was always the idea of bed. I do not know when I will be reunited with my oh-so-comfortable bed. But, I guess 26 years of age is a good time to pull my first all-nighter.
Things that have happened today:
- I walked past two Asian men in time to hear one say (in an accent): "he had to empty his testicles."
- I have finally become confident in throwing instrument ties.
- I got butt blood on my shoe.
-
My first night on Trauma Call. It's an overnight call, which means there is the potential for me to be up all night. I don't think I've done that before... I've gone to bed exceptionally late (8am or so), but there was always the idea of bed. I do not know when I will be reunited with my oh-so-comfortable bed. But, I guess 26 years of age is a good time to pull my first all-nighter.
Things that have happened today:
- I walked past two Asian men in time to hear one say (in an accent): "he had to empty his testicles."
- I have finally become confident in throwing instrument ties.
- I got butt blood on my shoe.
-
Sep 27, 2004
Facing Fears
Day One of Trauma surgery. When I started med school - heck, when I was pre-med - I knew that the one thing I couldn't do was trauma. Surgery was a bit iffy at first, even. But during an internship in college, I came to grips with how everything in surgery was very contained and depersonalized. It was not a person we were cutting into, it was a yellowish blob that contained pretty neat things. Still, trauma lurked as this very scary, very uncontrolled...thing. A thing that I wanted to stay away from.
But here I am. On the trauma service. Partially because I had almost last pick out of my group. But partially because I know that I can't let there be something this major that scares me in medicine. If I'm going to be a good doctor, I need to be prepared to face things that I don't want to. Just look at what we ask patients to do: Sit still while we jam a needle in your arm; a tube in your chest; you have cancer, and we need to kill your body to kill the tumor, so deal; your father/mother/sister/brother is not going to survive this, do you want to withdraw care? How could we expect anything less from ourselves, than the willingness to boldly face the things we don't want to.
So, by chance or by choice, I found myself in my first trauma code this morning. A woman shot herself in the temple. In a park. A passer-by found her. She. Was. Not. Pretty. I won't go into details here...but this was not a depersonalized surgery patient. This was a person with a face and hands. Just not life.
Suicide patients are tough. What do you do with them? They are obviously trying to end things...why should we have the right to go against their wishes? Then again, less than 10% of people who try once go on to try again (I think...I need to verify that) - perhaps given the drive to go on living after their life was saved. Obviously, we must try to save everyone we can.
It's late, and I'm tired. And I committed a major faux pas today: I let my resident hear me complain. Grr. I NEVER complain. I try so hard - I barely even complain to my friends about being tired or feeling over-worked. I wasn't even really complaining today, I was just making a comment about the call schedule to my fellow student on the service, and she was listening, and jumped in to chide me. Arg. What a great first impression to make...
But here I am. On the trauma service. Partially because I had almost last pick out of my group. But partially because I know that I can't let there be something this major that scares me in medicine. If I'm going to be a good doctor, I need to be prepared to face things that I don't want to. Just look at what we ask patients to do: Sit still while we jam a needle in your arm; a tube in your chest; you have cancer, and we need to kill your body to kill the tumor, so deal; your father/mother/sister/brother is not going to survive this, do you want to withdraw care? How could we expect anything less from ourselves, than the willingness to boldly face the things we don't want to.
So, by chance or by choice, I found myself in my first trauma code this morning. A woman shot herself in the temple. In a park. A passer-by found her. She. Was. Not. Pretty. I won't go into details here...but this was not a depersonalized surgery patient. This was a person with a face and hands. Just not life.
Suicide patients are tough. What do you do with them? They are obviously trying to end things...why should we have the right to go against their wishes? Then again, less than 10% of people who try once go on to try again (I think...I need to verify that) - perhaps given the drive to go on living after their life was saved. Obviously, we must try to save everyone we can.
It's late, and I'm tired. And I committed a major faux pas today: I let my resident hear me complain. Grr. I NEVER complain. I try so hard - I barely even complain to my friends about being tired or feeling over-worked. I wasn't even really complaining today, I was just making a comment about the call schedule to my fellow student on the service, and she was listening, and jumped in to chide me. Arg. What a great first impression to make...
Sep 23, 2004
Sep 21, 2004
Scrubs R' Us
I cannot express how frustrating it is being sent home 7 hours before morning rounds start. I still have to eat, shower and sleep. And pre-round. Ugh.
Sep 20, 2004
Keith Says:
My most recent comment:
keith said...
"If a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down, then your blog is choking me with my own dirty entrails. I can smell my appendix."
I must admit that I'm perplexed. Let's analyze:
"If a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down" Okay. Obvious reference to Mary Poppins, as portrayed by the lovely Julie Andrews. In the movie, the spoonful of sugar helps the poor, belabored rich kids complete the magical task of watching their room clean itself. If actually applied to real life, we're supposed to believe that something good, or sweet, will help a bad task be more bearable. If one accepts that making medicine go down is a bad thing, that is. (which I don't necessarily - hello!: cramps and Motrin)
"...then your blog is choking me with my own dirty entrails." I'm imagining at this point that this is not meant to be a compliment. The use of the word 'entrails' rarely suggests warm fuzzies. ('Oh, Linda, your entrails are so...sexy' is not a phrase heard often) Much less 'dirty entrails.'
This is where my confusion starts. Is the fact that he's choking meant to indicate that my blog lacks 'sugar,' or, taken to its extreme - anything good at all? OR - now, follow me here - is the fact that he's reached his entrails with his choking mean that there is, actually, TOO much sweetness, causing the 'medicine' to go down at much too rapid a pace? But, in this second case, what is the medicine in question? AND how did his entrails get dirty in the first place? Last time I checked, my entrails were still...well...in. The actual entrails themselves being, admittedly, slimy, are not actually dirty. Now, what's inside the entrail - the en-entrail, if you will - now, that is dirty.
Now, beyond this, my mind breaks off onto entirely disparate avenues. For instance, was the use of 'medicine' in the metaphor chosen specifically because of my professional aspirations, or was it merely coincidence? Did you intend to get the freaking song stuck in my head as some sort of revenge for forcing you to read my blog? How did you come to feel forced to read my blog in the first place? Where can I get an umbrella that makes me fly?
And, Keith, I have one last question for you: What does your appendix smell like?
Thanks for the laugh, and please do explain if you find yourself in such a torturous position as to be here, on my page (intended for me and my friends) again.
keith said...
"If a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down, then your blog is choking me with my own dirty entrails. I can smell my appendix."
I must admit that I'm perplexed. Let's analyze:
"If a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down" Okay. Obvious reference to Mary Poppins, as portrayed by the lovely Julie Andrews. In the movie, the spoonful of sugar helps the poor, belabored rich kids complete the magical task of watching their room clean itself. If actually applied to real life, we're supposed to believe that something good, or sweet, will help a bad task be more bearable. If one accepts that making medicine go down is a bad thing, that is. (which I don't necessarily - hello!: cramps and Motrin)
"...then your blog is choking me with my own dirty entrails." I'm imagining at this point that this is not meant to be a compliment. The use of the word 'entrails' rarely suggests warm fuzzies. ('Oh, Linda, your entrails are so...sexy' is not a phrase heard often) Much less 'dirty entrails.'
This is where my confusion starts. Is the fact that he's choking meant to indicate that my blog lacks 'sugar,' or, taken to its extreme - anything good at all? OR - now, follow me here - is the fact that he's reached his entrails with his choking mean that there is, actually, TOO much sweetness, causing the 'medicine' to go down at much too rapid a pace? But, in this second case, what is the medicine in question? AND how did his entrails get dirty in the first place? Last time I checked, my entrails were still...well...in. The actual entrails themselves being, admittedly, slimy, are not actually dirty. Now, what's inside the entrail - the en-entrail, if you will - now, that is dirty.
Now, beyond this, my mind breaks off onto entirely disparate avenues. For instance, was the use of 'medicine' in the metaphor chosen specifically because of my professional aspirations, or was it merely coincidence? Did you intend to get the freaking song stuck in my head as some sort of revenge for forcing you to read my blog? How did you come to feel forced to read my blog in the first place? Where can I get an umbrella that makes me fly?
And, Keith, I have one last question for you: What does your appendix smell like?
Thanks for the laugh, and please do explain if you find yourself in such a torturous position as to be here, on my page (intended for me and my friends) again.
Sep 19, 2004
Anniversary
It was six months ago today that all that junk happened. It feels like longer ago. So much has happened in 6 months... it doesn't even feel possible that it hasn't already been years and years. Yet, I'm still not completely back to normal after all of that either. I still question my behavior and people's interactions with me much more than I used to. At first, I was sure that everyone I knew was going to see that something had happened between me and those people, and that they'd take the other side. I was worried that people would start to think that I must be an awful person, to have caused my good friends to ditch me. When school started back up in April... let's just say that it was really bad. One of the hardest weeks I've faced.
Six months later, I can almost say that I'm glad it happened. Almost. I discovered (though I did already know...it was just confirmed) who my true friends are. My definition of true friend being 'one who doesn't tell you they don't want to see you any more, even when you are being annoying/mean/grumpy/etc.' It was only after the parking lot incident, and after my brain has had some time to settle down that I'm starting to see how stressed out I was having them as friends. I was never good enough - I spoke my mind too much, I was too concerned about things...I don't even know really how to pinpoint what I was doing wrong. I knew that I was in the wrong, and I had tried so hard to fix myself. But, really, I wasn't broken. No one can exist in a friendship where you're not allowed to be who you really are. So, good riddance. I still wish it had been a natural demise, instead of a brutal, final slash. Because, even though I know this is better, it still hurts. And I still spend way too much time trying to figure out what I could have done differently.
Hey! This also means that it has been 6 months since I got my hair cut! I shall set up an appointment soon...
Six months later, I can almost say that I'm glad it happened. Almost. I discovered (though I did already know...it was just confirmed) who my true friends are. My definition of true friend being 'one who doesn't tell you they don't want to see you any more, even when you are being annoying/mean/grumpy/etc.' It was only after the parking lot incident, and after my brain has had some time to settle down that I'm starting to see how stressed out I was having them as friends. I was never good enough - I spoke my mind too much, I was too concerned about things...I don't even know really how to pinpoint what I was doing wrong. I knew that I was in the wrong, and I had tried so hard to fix myself. But, really, I wasn't broken. No one can exist in a friendship where you're not allowed to be who you really are. So, good riddance. I still wish it had been a natural demise, instead of a brutal, final slash. Because, even though I know this is better, it still hurts. And I still spend way too much time trying to figure out what I could have done differently.
Hey! This also means that it has been 6 months since I got my hair cut! I shall set up an appointment soon...
Sep 17, 2004
Jet Lagged by Life
You know how you feel when you have to get up in the middle of the night to catch a plane and then travel all day without sleeping? That feeling of having lead in your limbs and cotton in your brain? That is how I feel today. And I haven't even traveled anywhere! Le sigh... Actually, le yawn.
I am so horrendously tired.
I am so horrendously tired.
Sep 14, 2004
Bring on the Smelling Salts!
My attending had no cases today (surprise, surprise - I don't know what he does most of the time...), so I decided to go in on the case with the Chair of the Vascular Surgery department. The case was an ex vivo renal artery bypass to repair a renal artery aneurysm. The renal artery supplies blood to the kidney. An aneurysm is a big 'ol 
in an artery (like a balloon), where the artery is weak and can rupture. "Ex vivo" means that they dissect the kidney out, and pack it in ice and preservative material so that they have more time to work on the problem.
This was actually the first big, open abdomen case I've worked on. Most of the things I've seen with my attending have been endovascular - meaning, all I see is a TV screen showing x-ray images of what is going on inside the body. Good for the patient, boring for students to watch... Well, boring for me anyway.
Okay, before I start complaining (cause I'm gonna complain), let me just say: the abdomen - the inside guts part - is pretty! The colors are, I mean. Kind of like this color scheme (don't worry, Lindsay, this isn't a picture of actual intestines). Very pastel-y and pretty. I'd decorate my room in the colors of 'intestine.' Especially if you could add a little spleen for accent. (this one is, so don't click it Lulu)
Did everyone know that Lindsay's new nickname is Lulu? Well, it is. So say I.
ANYWAAAAY. On to the complaining. Well, maybe not so much complaining as...okay, really, it is just complaining.
The operation started at about 7:30 - the first incision, that is. I was helping to prep the patient by 7:10. Let me set the scene:
1. Head of the Vascular department.
2. Who liked asking me questions.
3. Whose answers I did not know. Gerota's fascia for future reference.
4. It was hot. At one point, Dr. Surgeon said: "The patient's temperature is under control, let's turn the thermostat down to 75." Down to 75.
5. I had a granola bar and some coffee for breakfast. At 5.
6. My 'monthly' started today.
7. I had taken four Advil. At 5.
8. The Advil wore off. Cramps. Ugh.
9. There was nothing for me to do but stand there.
10. Until they turned the heat back up, and wanted me to do something with stitches - I'm still not quite sure what...
11. My back hurt.
I lasted until 3. I started feeling bad around 1pm, and awful at about 2. I'm surprised I lasted as long as I did. I decided that I should break scrub when I started kinda blacking out... The annoying thing was that they were done 40 minutes later. I almost made it! Grrr. The anesthesiologist did tell me that the patient had more color than I did...generally not a good thing...
They say it happens to everyone. So far, 2 of the 3 of us on vascular have had to break scrub. We'll see if the other one holds out!
And, as a side note for the girls - if you're ever in a situation where you find yourself saying: "Well, it is only the first day of my period, and this pad is pretty absorbant; plus I'll be standing, not sitting, so less likely to get leaks; plus these scrub pants are enormous, so how could it leak thru to them anyway? And how long can an ex vivo renal artery bypass take? Surely not over 7 hours" Just say NO. And go find the nearest tampon dispenser.
in an artery (like a balloon), where the artery is weak and can rupture. "Ex vivo" means that they dissect the kidney out, and pack it in ice and preservative material so that they have more time to work on the problem.
This was actually the first big, open abdomen case I've worked on. Most of the things I've seen with my attending have been endovascular - meaning, all I see is a TV screen showing x-ray images of what is going on inside the body. Good for the patient, boring for students to watch... Well, boring for me anyway.
Okay, before I start complaining (cause I'm gonna complain), let me just say: the abdomen - the inside guts part - is pretty! The colors are, I mean. Kind of like this color scheme (don't worry, Lindsay, this isn't a picture of actual intestines). Very pastel-y and pretty. I'd decorate my room in the colors of 'intestine.' Especially if you could add a little spleen for accent. (this one is, so don't click it Lulu)
Did everyone know that Lindsay's new nickname is Lulu? Well, it is. So say I.
ANYWAAAAY. On to the complaining. Well, maybe not so much complaining as...okay, really, it is just complaining.
The operation started at about 7:30 - the first incision, that is. I was helping to prep the patient by 7:10. Let me set the scene:
1. Head of the Vascular department.
2. Who liked asking me questions.
3. Whose answers I did not know. Gerota's fascia for future reference.
4. It was hot. At one point, Dr. Surgeon said: "The patient's temperature is under control, let's turn the thermostat down to 75." Down to 75.
5. I had a granola bar and some coffee for breakfast. At 5.
6. My 'monthly' started today.
7. I had taken four Advil. At 5.
8. The Advil wore off. Cramps. Ugh.
9. There was nothing for me to do but stand there.
10. Until they turned the heat back up, and wanted me to do something with stitches - I'm still not quite sure what...
11. My back hurt.
I lasted until 3. I started feeling bad around 1pm, and awful at about 2. I'm surprised I lasted as long as I did. I decided that I should break scrub when I started kinda blacking out... The annoying thing was that they were done 40 minutes later. I almost made it! Grrr. The anesthesiologist did tell me that the patient had more color than I did...generally not a good thing...
They say it happens to everyone. So far, 2 of the 3 of us on vascular have had to break scrub. We'll see if the other one holds out!
And, as a side note for the girls - if you're ever in a situation where you find yourself saying: "Well, it is only the first day of my period, and this pad is pretty absorbant; plus I'll be standing, not sitting, so less likely to get leaks; plus these scrub pants are enormous, so how could it leak thru to them anyway? And how long can an ex vivo renal artery bypass take? Surely not over 7 hours" Just say NO. And go find the nearest tampon dispenser.
Sep 13, 2004
Things That Make Me Grin...
...even on a Monday.
* :) *
Since I spent many hours over the past weekend doing the same thing (except not in Wisconsin. And with no guys), I can understand the obsession.
I am so tired. Maybe weekends are bad. I get lulled into a sense of 'having time to do stuff.' So I end up sitting around watching TV and reading, and don't realize that all that 'stuff' that I had time to do didn't get done. So I have to stay up late to do it. Then I'm tired.
My eyes were rolling back up into my skull today during a renal artery angioplasty/stenting. I had to move to make sure that if I just completely fell over, it wouldn't be all over the scrub nurse's clean stuff. Which really wouldn't matter too much, because for all these endovascular things, they don't actually use any of the stuff anyway. Ugh. How cool is it that putting a stent in your renal artery may cure hypertension, though? I think that's cool. Of course, it only works in about 20% of the patients...but who wants to crunch numbers on a Monday? I'd rather sleep.
Ahhh....sleep.....
This may have posted twice. I have no control over the whims of the internet. Wouldn't it be cool if I did, though?
* :) *
Since I spent many hours over the past weekend doing the same thing (except not in Wisconsin. And with no guys), I can understand the obsession.
I am so tired. Maybe weekends are bad. I get lulled into a sense of 'having time to do stuff.' So I end up sitting around watching TV and reading, and don't realize that all that 'stuff' that I had time to do didn't get done. So I have to stay up late to do it. Then I'm tired.
My eyes were rolling back up into my skull today during a renal artery angioplasty/stenting. I had to move to make sure that if I just completely fell over, it wouldn't be all over the scrub nurse's clean stuff. Which really wouldn't matter too much, because for all these endovascular things, they don't actually use any of the stuff anyway. Ugh. How cool is it that putting a stent in your renal artery may cure hypertension, though? I think that's cool. Of course, it only works in about 20% of the patients...but who wants to crunch numbers on a Monday? I'd rather sleep.
Ahhh....sleep.....
This may have posted twice. I have no control over the whims of the internet. Wouldn't it be cool if I did, though?
Sep 9, 2004
Things I Swore I'd Never Do, part 2
So, remember when I did that horrible awful thing back in the days when I was a pseudo-psychiatrist? At that point I swore to myself that I would not let anything like that happen ever again. Well, I must admit that I have transgressed. This time it was not an article. This time it was (brace yourself here) staying after rounds to go to an operation that I didn't need to. I know! Isn't it horrible!!!?!! Especially since I was already hungry. AND I'm not on call Let me outline my reasoning, and you can be my jury of peers:
1. We were minorly chewed out yesterday for not doing enough.
2. It was my attending performing the procedure (IVC filter).
3. The Fellow assisting is the Fellow that chewed us out.
4. I'd been to the same type of procedure yesterday, and knew that it wasn't a terribly long one.
5. I was allowed to stick the femoral vein in yesterday's procedure, so knew that the opportunity was there to do it again today.
I think my reasoning was sound.
My presence was definitely taken as a positive thing. I was allowed to do more than I ever had before - including the femoral vein stick, AND deploying the filter. Doesn't that sound cool?? I got to 'deploy the filter.' It really just involved pulling a little blue handle, while they watched under fluoroscopy. But still cool.
So, I am satisfied with my decision, even though it marks my second heinous infarction, and moves me even closer to the Land of the Gunner.
Now I'm starving. Time to go home and eat, then promptly to bed. I'll do better tomorrow, I promise.
1. We were minorly chewed out yesterday for not doing enough.
2. It was my attending performing the procedure (IVC filter).
3. The Fellow assisting is the Fellow that chewed us out.
4. I'd been to the same type of procedure yesterday, and knew that it wasn't a terribly long one.
5. I was allowed to stick the femoral vein in yesterday's procedure, so knew that the opportunity was there to do it again today.
I think my reasoning was sound.
My presence was definitely taken as a positive thing. I was allowed to do more than I ever had before - including the femoral vein stick, AND deploying the filter. Doesn't that sound cool?? I got to 'deploy the filter.' It really just involved pulling a little blue handle, while they watched under fluoroscopy. But still cool.
So, I am satisfied with my decision, even though it marks my second heinous infarction, and moves me even closer to the Land of the Gunner.
Now I'm starving. Time to go home and eat, then promptly to bed. I'll do better tomorrow, I promise.
Sep 8, 2004
The Walrus Said
Okay. The time has come. I'm starting to get annoyed with people on my surgery team, which means several things: First (and probably most relevant): I'm PMS-y. Happens every month, I should be used to it by now. But not. Second: they should really let me move onto another team now, while I still think that vascular surgeons are worthy and interesting people. Because we all know where this is heading, don't we? That's right. The more annoyed I get, the more I will deny the existence of my patients' vasculature, just to annoy any future vascular surgeons I may happen upon. This is not a good thing.
Okay. I really can only think of two things that my new annoyance means, but I think two is a good starting point. I can expand from there. And, really, the annoyance has just started. It's like...noticing that you've got a quarter in your shoe (why do you have a quarter in your shoe, weirdo?) At first, you're like "Huh. There's something in my shoe. What could it be?" Then you concentrate on it, identify it as twenty-five one-hundredths of a dollar, and then try to put it out of your mind, because you happen to be in the middle of a marathon, and besides, phone calls cost 35 cents now, anyway. What good in dwelling on a mere quarter? Then, after a short period of time during which you delude yourself into thinking that you are SO beyond presence of said quarter, it starts to rub. On your toe. In a really annoying, won't-go-away type fashion. "That's okay." you assure yourself, "I am bigger - literally and figuratively - than any quarter" And you continue limping along, silently seething, yet smiling on the outside, because you signed up for this freaking marathon, and are paying a gajillion dollars, so gosh-darn-it, you are going to finish it, and have fun in the process, even if the freaking quarter is ripping your foot to shreds. Shortly thereafter you let go, and start yelling at the other people in the race with you, hoping to relieve some physical pain by inflicting emotional pain on the people around you. And just for good measure, you shove a few as well. And maybe spit on a bystander or two. Eventually you do finish the race, but you're practically crippled, and have made enemies all around you, so you move to an invalid home in Siberia, because it's cold there (which may make your foot feel better) and you don't speak the language, so no one can tell you to get off your lazy butt and start walking somewhere. Because don't they know you've got a freaking QUARTER embedded in your freaking CALCANEUS!!!!!!!!!!!!
SEE? This is just not a good thing. Which is why I should be allowed to Pass vascular surgery after just a week and a half. I'm only at the 'identifying it's a quarter' stage. There is so much more to come. Let me go now, and we'll all be winners.
I'm on call. But I got sent home before 8pm. Okay... so I like some people on my team. But he's going into urology, not vascular surgery.
Okay. I really can only think of two things that my new annoyance means, but I think two is a good starting point. I can expand from there. And, really, the annoyance has just started. It's like...noticing that you've got a quarter in your shoe (why do you have a quarter in your shoe, weirdo?) At first, you're like "Huh. There's something in my shoe. What could it be?" Then you concentrate on it, identify it as twenty-five one-hundredths of a dollar, and then try to put it out of your mind, because you happen to be in the middle of a marathon, and besides, phone calls cost 35 cents now, anyway. What good in dwelling on a mere quarter? Then, after a short period of time during which you delude yourself into thinking that you are SO beyond presence of said quarter, it starts to rub. On your toe. In a really annoying, won't-go-away type fashion. "That's okay." you assure yourself, "I am bigger - literally and figuratively - than any quarter" And you continue limping along, silently seething, yet smiling on the outside, because you signed up for this freaking marathon, and are paying a gajillion dollars, so gosh-darn-it, you are going to finish it, and have fun in the process, even if the freaking quarter is ripping your foot to shreds. Shortly thereafter you let go, and start yelling at the other people in the race with you, hoping to relieve some physical pain by inflicting emotional pain on the people around you. And just for good measure, you shove a few as well. And maybe spit on a bystander or two. Eventually you do finish the race, but you're practically crippled, and have made enemies all around you, so you move to an invalid home in Siberia, because it's cold there (which may make your foot feel better) and you don't speak the language, so no one can tell you to get off your lazy butt and start walking somewhere. Because don't they know you've got a freaking QUARTER embedded in your freaking CALCANEUS!!!!!!!!!!!!
SEE? This is just not a good thing. Which is why I should be allowed to Pass vascular surgery after just a week and a half. I'm only at the 'identifying it's a quarter' stage. There is so much more to come. Let me go now, and we'll all be winners.
I'm on call. But I got sent home before 8pm. Okay... so I like some people on my team. But he's going into urology, not vascular surgery.
Sep 6, 2004
Disorganization
So, I got the pictures posted below, but they are in no specific order. And, they're mostly of Susan, because she's holding all the ones of me hostage. She hasn't named her price yet, though... Maybe that's the revenge for the Eeyore incident. Not that I'm obsessive about pictures of myself... Maybe I am. But c'mon, everyone's got to have some "Egoistic Days." Go ahead, give it a shot. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised. Just don't shoot anyone else down in the process. That's just mean.
Now I have to review a book, and as a result I get $75 of textbooks - of my choice! How exciting is that?
Also, on the exciting front - I am getting published this summer! In the Journal of Integrative Medicine, or some such. It's from research that I did last summer. I didn't actually write any part of the article (maybe I contributed to the "Methods" portion), but I'm the third author listed. I have the feeling this will be the only thing I publish in my medical career, so it's a big deal!
Ugh. I have to be back in surgery in 12 hours.
Now I have to review a book, and as a result I get $75 of textbooks - of my choice! How exciting is that?
Also, on the exciting front - I am getting published this summer! In the Journal of Integrative Medicine, or some such. It's from research that I did last summer. I didn't actually write any part of the article (maybe I contributed to the "Methods" portion), but I'm the third author listed. I have the feeling this will be the only thing I publish in my medical career, so it's a big deal!
Ugh. I have to be back in surgery in 12 hours.
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Ack.
I'm trying to figure out this new-fangled picture thing here on Blogspot. It will work eventually. I hope. It is starting to frustrate me, though... The instructions are all like - do this and you're done! But, I can't even find the buttons to do the things that you're supposed to do. And it seems like I'm missing a step. Or ten. Grrr. Well, I do have a couple of cool pictures to add. And I still haven't written about the cruise. That may not happen today yet...
Sep 2, 2004
Noteworthy:
1. Hurricane Frances is going to kick the heck out of southern Florida. So much so, that cruise ships are staying away. Okay. I was ON one of those cruise ships a mere week ago. I am SO incredibly thankful that our timing was so good. I don't know what would have happened if we hadn't made it back for our rotations. Besides - what do they do with the ships? Just chill out on the ocean? Dock in... Cuba?
2. The Kobe Bryant case was dropped? Good grief. Make up your mind, or at least keep it out of my freaking newspaper if you're going to be all vacillating about it. Oscillating. Wassailing?
3. I am incredibly tired, and just learned that trauma surgery (what I do next) call is not just overnight. It is FOREVER. 36 hours at a time, baby. Every four days. That is just insane. I'm useless most of the time anyway. 36 hours with no sleep is not really gonna help.
4. I put in a Foley catheter today!
5. I have a really (really, really) hard time recognizing people once they put on surgical caps and masks. (or take them off, if I've only seen them in the OR) Really, all it takes is a cap, and I'm like..."where'd so-and-so go??" Yesterday, there was a conference, and I didn't know who this one youngish doctor was there. It took me 30 minutes to figure out that it was my attending with whom I'd spent a good 8 or so hours with in the OR in the past couple of days. Yeah.
6. Today, I was sitting in the lounge area reading up on the operation I was about to see. In comes one of the MMPWHM. Actually, all the mysteriously missing have returned. So now it's really just PWHM. Piwhim. Numbers 1, 2 and 3. Anyway. Piwhim #2 walked in, sat down by me and started chatting, all chummily. As if nothing had happened. As if the whole 'incident' was just some minor blip on the screen, and everything was all hunky dory again. This is the same person who practically hissed at me (calling me a manipulative liar) after we met with the school dean. Good grief. CONSISTENCY, PEOPLE! PLEASE! Show some consistency, that is all I ask. Feel free to go right on hating me, cause I ain't changing. I am not going back to the way things were. I do not want to sit and chat with you. No small talk. No how do you do today. Nope. Pure and utter hatred was what you showed me you were capable of, and I expect nothing less.
7. It's only 6:20, and I get to go home!!!
2. The Kobe Bryant case was dropped? Good grief. Make up your mind, or at least keep it out of my freaking newspaper if you're going to be all vacillating about it. Oscillating. Wassailing?
3. I am incredibly tired, and just learned that trauma surgery (what I do next) call is not just overnight. It is FOREVER. 36 hours at a time, baby. Every four days. That is just insane. I'm useless most of the time anyway. 36 hours with no sleep is not really gonna help.
4. I put in a Foley catheter today!
5. I have a really (really, really) hard time recognizing people once they put on surgical caps and masks. (or take them off, if I've only seen them in the OR) Really, all it takes is a cap, and I'm like..."where'd so-and-so go??" Yesterday, there was a conference, and I didn't know who this one youngish doctor was there. It took me 30 minutes to figure out that it was my attending with whom I'd spent a good 8 or so hours with in the OR in the past couple of days. Yeah.
6. Today, I was sitting in the lounge area reading up on the operation I was about to see. In comes one of the MMPWHM. Actually, all the mysteriously missing have returned. So now it's really just PWHM. Piwhim. Numbers 1, 2 and 3. Anyway. Piwhim #2 walked in, sat down by me and started chatting, all chummily. As if nothing had happened. As if the whole 'incident' was just some minor blip on the screen, and everything was all hunky dory again. This is the same person who practically hissed at me (calling me a manipulative liar) after we met with the school dean. Good grief. CONSISTENCY, PEOPLE! PLEASE! Show some consistency, that is all I ask. Feel free to go right on hating me, cause I ain't changing. I am not going back to the way things were. I do not want to sit and chat with you. No small talk. No how do you do today. Nope. Pure and utter hatred was what you showed me you were capable of, and I expect nothing less.
7. It's only 6:20, and I get to go home!!!
***!~!***100***!~!***
This is my hundredth post! For those of you who care... If you look at my little profile thing-y, it will also tell you how many words I've written. Why we need this information, I don't know.
Anyone remember when Microsoft Word did a spell/grammar/intelligence check? I guess it wasn't an 'intelligence' check, per se. .. It would tell you at what grade level the work was at, based on sentence and word length. I had so much fun with that. I entered some Shakespeare - I think he got in the 10-12 range. Hemingway was around 5-7. **Take a moment to enjoy the irony** (in other words: Hemingway is often as freaking hard to understand as Shakespeare; another reason that The Old Man and the Sea should be banned from ninth grade reading lists. And Romeo and Juliet, which has been done to death) I wrote at about an 8th grade level throughout high school. But I'm easier to understand than Will or Ernie.
Last night, I couldn't get to sleep. I actually yelled at my clock at one point. It went like this: Me, tossing and turning. I turn to look at my alarm clock, and whisper, exasperatedly, "Midnight!" Okay. So the story wasn't that exciting, after all. But don't you feel that your life is enhanced, nonetheless? At least a little?
This morning, I didn't feel all that tired. Then I started trying to actually function. Ha! I went down two flights of stairs before I realized that I had intended to actually go UP one. I'm transposing all my letters on anything I try to write. I'm spilling coffee, tripping, and have been hypnotized by the sound of my sneakers on linoleum floors. People. This is not normal. I believe now, after a mere 3 days and a few hours, that persons who go into surgery are actually ALIENS FROM ANOTHER PLANET!!!
Time for an aorto-bifemoral bypass. Cool, huh? Too bad my bloods not green, or I might enjoy it even more.
I apologized to my clock this morning. It wasn't its fault, after all.
Anyone remember when Microsoft Word did a spell/grammar/intelligence check? I guess it wasn't an 'intelligence' check, per se. .. It would tell you at what grade level the work was at, based on sentence and word length. I had so much fun with that. I entered some Shakespeare - I think he got in the 10-12 range. Hemingway was around 5-7. **Take a moment to enjoy the irony** (in other words: Hemingway is often as freaking hard to understand as Shakespeare; another reason that The Old Man and the Sea should be banned from ninth grade reading lists. And Romeo and Juliet, which has been done to death) I wrote at about an 8th grade level throughout high school. But I'm easier to understand than Will or Ernie.
Last night, I couldn't get to sleep. I actually yelled at my clock at one point. It went like this: Me, tossing and turning. I turn to look at my alarm clock, and whisper, exasperatedly, "Midnight!" Okay. So the story wasn't that exciting, after all. But don't you feel that your life is enhanced, nonetheless? At least a little?
This morning, I didn't feel all that tired. Then I started trying to actually function. Ha! I went down two flights of stairs before I realized that I had intended to actually go UP one. I'm transposing all my letters on anything I try to write. I'm spilling coffee, tripping, and have been hypnotized by the sound of my sneakers on linoleum floors. People. This is not normal. I believe now, after a mere 3 days and a few hours, that persons who go into surgery are actually ALIENS FROM ANOTHER PLANET!!!
Time for an aorto-bifemoral bypass. Cool, huh? Too bad my bloods not green, or I might enjoy it even more.
I apologized to my clock this morning. It wasn't its fault, after all.
Sep 1, 2004
Part Two
I must also send birthday greetings to my old friend, Elizabeth. Old as in made of gold, not as in chronilogically aged. I don't think she reads this blog, though. Unless she is secretly having me followed. Are you? Hmm.
Surgery call is different than psych call. That is my birthday message to you, Elizabeth. :)
Surgery call is different than psych call. That is my birthday message to you, Elizabeth. :)
The Birthday Tree
If your name is Susan, and you read this blog, then (most likely) today is your BIRTHDAY!!!
Let's all say it together: HAPPY BIRTHDAY SUSAN!!!!
For you: a birthday tree (or cerebral angiography...take your pick)
Let's all say it together: HAPPY BIRTHDAY SUSAN!!!!
For you: a birthday tree (or cerebral angiography...take your pick)
Aug 31, 2004
I'm a Doctor, Mr. Spock, not a Surgeon!!
True or False? Surgery = Medicine.
Answer: False.
Don't forget that.
I got to scrub in and actually DO stuff today! Now, today, it was exciting, but I think it may get old after... oh... tomorrow. First: I pulled a femoral line and held pressure. For 20 minutes. That's twenty minutes of me standing in the OR with my hand dangerously close to some guy's crotch. Isn't 'crotch' a disgusting word??? Second: I held army/navy retractors. At least, I think the doctor called them army/navies. And I was using them to retract. Remember the little hole I referred to yesterday? Today, I got to hold the hole open. It was a much better view!
After that, I admitted a patient who is going to have surgery tomorrow. I must admit (oh so humbly) that I've gotten a heck of a lot better doing patient interviews and physical exams and writing up H&P's (history and physical). I hadn't really realized that I'd improved, but after two weeks away, everything feels newish again, but much, much easier.
We get to start planning our fourth year soon. Supposedly fourth year is relatively easy. We do a month in the ER, a month in the medical ICU, two months as acting interns (playing doctor even harder) and then kind of whatever we want to for the rest. What do I want to do? I want to do a rotation at home in Portland, AND (this is the exciting part) I want to take a month off to study for the boards - in Alaska! My friend at Yale is thinking of doing the same thing. Much fun would be had.
Plus, I'd get to meet my ex-boyfriends new wife.
Study, study, study.
Answer: False.
Don't forget that.
I got to scrub in and actually DO stuff today! Now, today, it was exciting, but I think it may get old after... oh... tomorrow. First: I pulled a femoral line and held pressure. For 20 minutes. That's twenty minutes of me standing in the OR with my hand dangerously close to some guy's crotch. Isn't 'crotch' a disgusting word??? Second: I held army/navy retractors. At least, I think the doctor called them army/navies. And I was using them to retract. Remember the little hole I referred to yesterday? Today, I got to hold the hole open. It was a much better view!
After that, I admitted a patient who is going to have surgery tomorrow. I must admit (oh so humbly) that I've gotten a heck of a lot better doing patient interviews and physical exams and writing up H&P's (history and physical). I hadn't really realized that I'd improved, but after two weeks away, everything feels newish again, but much, much easier.
We get to start planning our fourth year soon. Supposedly fourth year is relatively easy. We do a month in the ER, a month in the medical ICU, two months as acting interns (playing doctor even harder) and then kind of whatever we want to for the rest. What do I want to do? I want to do a rotation at home in Portland, AND (this is the exciting part) I want to take a month off to study for the boards - in Alaska! My friend at Yale is thinking of doing the same thing. Much fun would be had.
Plus, I'd get to meet my ex-boyfriends new wife.
Study, study, study.
Aug 30, 2004
Life in a well wouldn't be so bad...
Ack. So, today was the much dreaded First Day of Surgery. Apparently, there are only 38 more mornings left. I did not count the mornings - it was one of my fellow non-surgeons-in-the-making. See? We all were dreading surgery rotation.
What's my verdict? Well. It has only been one (long) day so far. So, I guess I can't give a really thorough judgment yet.
I'm on the vascular surgery service. You know: arteries and aortas and veins and stuff like that. I was told by both interns (completely independently of one another, without my asking) that the attending I have 'likes to ask questions.' That is their diplomatic way of saying 'pimps the heck out of ya.' I haven't experienced it yet, but I guess it is better to be prepared. There are two other (good, nice, happy) students in vascular right now, so at least I have some partners in crime.
I scrubbed in for the first time today!!!! That was definitely exciting. It involves scrubbing every possible surface of your arm (up to two inches above the elbow) until the skin falls off. Longer on the fingers. Then you use your butt to open the door, do a little magic towel dance to dry your hands, let the nurse put on your bathrobe (backwards), then cram your hands into some gloves. That's what you do when someone is helping you anyway. You get to add the magic gown AND magic glove dance when you're doing it on your own. But I had really nice nurses today.
The case I scrubbed in for, I was late to, so it ended 5 minutes (literally) after I was done scrubbing. Actually, I was on time, but the case was early. My brain is not yet hooked up to the ESP line for surgical services. I think we get that Week 3.
I joined my other 3rd year students for another case. Nicole scrubbed in and Charlene and I watched. It was interesting. At least, I think it was. I couldn't see much. They cut holes, and then play with arteries and veins in the holes. It's what I imagine it was like for the new firemen when they were watching the more experienced ones get that little girl who fell in the well out. Of the well. Into which she had fallen.
Remember the little girl in the well??? Okay, I just Google'd it. It was 17 years ago. SEVENTEEN!!! And I remember it! HOW am I old enough to remember things on the news from SEVENTEEN years ago?!!? That doesn't seem right. Egads. Call the frickin' coroner, and get me a casket of pine. Or maybe glass. Like Snow White, but blonde. You can skip the dwarfs, though. But definitely serve apples.
Okay...a bit punchy am I. I need sustenance. And sleep. Gotta be here at 5ish tomorrow. Better than some services, but not nearly so good as psych.
This weekend is Labor Day Weekend. I shall write about the cruise then.
What's my verdict? Well. It has only been one (long) day so far. So, I guess I can't give a really thorough judgment yet.
I'm on the vascular surgery service. You know: arteries and aortas and veins and stuff like that. I was told by both interns (completely independently of one another, without my asking) that the attending I have 'likes to ask questions.' That is their diplomatic way of saying 'pimps the heck out of ya.' I haven't experienced it yet, but I guess it is better to be prepared. There are two other (good, nice, happy) students in vascular right now, so at least I have some partners in crime.
I scrubbed in for the first time today!!!! That was definitely exciting. It involves scrubbing every possible surface of your arm (up to two inches above the elbow) until the skin falls off. Longer on the fingers. Then you use your butt to open the door, do a little magic towel dance to dry your hands, let the nurse put on your bathrobe (backwards), then cram your hands into some gloves. That's what you do when someone is helping you anyway. You get to add the magic gown AND magic glove dance when you're doing it on your own. But I had really nice nurses today.
The case I scrubbed in for, I was late to, so it ended 5 minutes (literally) after I was done scrubbing. Actually, I was on time, but the case was early. My brain is not yet hooked up to the ESP line for surgical services. I think we get that Week 3.
I joined my other 3rd year students for another case. Nicole scrubbed in and Charlene and I watched. It was interesting. At least, I think it was. I couldn't see much. They cut holes, and then play with arteries and veins in the holes. It's what I imagine it was like for the new firemen when they were watching the more experienced ones get that little girl who fell in the well out. Of the well. Into which she had fallen.
Remember the little girl in the well??? Okay, I just Google'd it. It was 17 years ago. SEVENTEEN!!! And I remember it! HOW am I old enough to remember things on the news from SEVENTEEN years ago?!!? That doesn't seem right. Egads. Call the frickin' coroner, and get me a casket of pine. Or maybe glass. Like Snow White, but blonde. You can skip the dwarfs, though. But definitely serve apples.
Okay...a bit punchy am I. I need sustenance. And sleep. Gotta be here at 5ish tomorrow. Better than some services, but not nearly so good as psych.
This weekend is Labor Day Weekend. I shall write about the cruise then.
Aug 29, 2004
Where to Start?
Phew. What a two weeks that all was. In a most definitely good way, of course! It was nice to have the internet in New York, so I could update my blog during that time. No such luck for the last week and a half, so I will do what I can...
8/19: Susan and her dogs picked me up and we drove to Charleston. I 'heart' Charleston. It is on my personal list of places I'd like to own a house some day. But I digress, and time runs short (I intentionally left my power cord at home, so I'm limited in internet time today) It's about a five hour drive from Winston, and we filled the time by listening to various musicals. Much fun. Better than any old back o' the seat DVD player, says I. We chilled poolside for a few hours (okay, we didn't actually 'chill' - we spent the time doing underwater handstands and somersaults...) and then Susan's madre joined us. We picked up some food, and watched the Olympics.
8/20: From Charleston to Orlando, leaving the puppies behind with Susan's mom. We again filled the 7+ hour drive with melodious sounds of musicals. We stayed at the Ramada Inn. The hurricane actually did hit Orlando, but not in a bad enough way to make world news. The Ramada smelled like mildew, though, and our carpet was damp. I guess they were lucky to even have power - parts of Orlando were without it for over a week! It was really smelly, and hard to get used to. I put lotion on my pillow so that I could get to sleep. Only problem? I woke up with my face all slimy in the morning, cause I'd been drooling onto the lotion. Eew.
8/21: DISNEY WORLD!!!!! The Happiest Place on Earth. I love it. I can't express how much I love Disney. Now, I'm not buy-everything-Mickey-(or Donald, Goofy, Eeyore, etc.)-to-decorate-every-possible-surface-in-my-home-and-body crazy, but I am crazy nonetheless. We started at Animal Kingdom at 9 am, when the park opened. It was a great place to start. We rode DinoSAUR, Primeval Whirl, and the Kilimanjaro Safari rides. I highly recommend the safari - they have actual animals on it, not like the Jungle River Cruise thing at Magic Kingdom.
MGM Studios was next, where we did Tower of Terror, Aerosmith's Rock n' Roller Coaster and Star Tours.
And, finally, we ended up in my favorite of all the four lands: the Magic Kingdom. It was POURING rain. Really, really pouring. We were forced to take shelter for a while, which was okay, since we were hungry. Then we ran around and tried to get in as many rides as possible before they closed at 10. We got in Haunted Mansion (a fav of mine), Pirates of the Caribbean, Big Thunder Mountain Railroad (three times), Splash Mountain, Space Mountain (twice), Peter Pan's Flight, Mad Tea Party, and the best ride for a good relaxing time - the Tomorrowland Transit Authority.
So much fun. And exhausting. Susan and I decided that Disney should run the world. Or at least airports - they would be so organized and every detail would be covered. I definitely think there should be a Disney Airport.
8/22: Orlando to Miami. We weren't out of musicals yet, but we did change the pace on this day! We stayed at the Wyndham Grand Bay Hotel which promised to be a luxurious accomodation (you can only valet park your car!), but in reality ended up causing quite a bit of grief. I won't go into the details (I'll let Susan do that if she wants to), let me just recommend to everyone out there: DON'T BOTHER staying at ANY Wyndham Bay Hotels or Resorts. Just save yourself the hassle. We just chilled in Miami. "Chill" here is a relative term, as it was freaking HOT. We did some shopping at a rather upscale-looking mall, got room service (the nidus of the problems) and watched a movie.
8/23:We've now reached the day of the big cruise! But this blog is freaking long, my battery is just about dead, I need to do laundry, and I think it is really quite impressive to end the blog with the use of the word 'nidus.' So I'll stop here for now. Did anybody even bother reading this far???
8/19: Susan and her dogs picked me up and we drove to Charleston. I 'heart' Charleston. It is on my personal list of places I'd like to own a house some day. But I digress, and time runs short (I intentionally left my power cord at home, so I'm limited in internet time today) It's about a five hour drive from Winston, and we filled the time by listening to various musicals. Much fun. Better than any old back o' the seat DVD player, says I. We chilled poolside for a few hours (okay, we didn't actually 'chill' - we spent the time doing underwater handstands and somersaults...) and then Susan's madre joined us. We picked up some food, and watched the Olympics.
8/20: From Charleston to Orlando, leaving the puppies behind with Susan's mom. We again filled the 7+ hour drive with melodious sounds of musicals. We stayed at the Ramada Inn. The hurricane actually did hit Orlando, but not in a bad enough way to make world news. The Ramada smelled like mildew, though, and our carpet was damp. I guess they were lucky to even have power - parts of Orlando were without it for over a week! It was really smelly, and hard to get used to. I put lotion on my pillow so that I could get to sleep. Only problem? I woke up with my face all slimy in the morning, cause I'd been drooling onto the lotion. Eew.
8/21: DISNEY WORLD!!!!! The Happiest Place on Earth. I love it. I can't express how much I love Disney. Now, I'm not buy-everything-Mickey-(or Donald, Goofy, Eeyore, etc.)-to-decorate-every-possible-surface-in-my-home-and-body crazy, but I am crazy nonetheless. We started at Animal Kingdom at 9 am, when the park opened. It was a great place to start. We rode DinoSAUR, Primeval Whirl, and the Kilimanjaro Safari rides. I highly recommend the safari - they have actual animals on it, not like the Jungle River Cruise thing at Magic Kingdom.
MGM Studios was next, where we did Tower of Terror, Aerosmith's Rock n' Roller Coaster and Star Tours.
And, finally, we ended up in my favorite of all the four lands: the Magic Kingdom. It was POURING rain. Really, really pouring. We were forced to take shelter for a while, which was okay, since we were hungry. Then we ran around and tried to get in as many rides as possible before they closed at 10. We got in Haunted Mansion (a fav of mine), Pirates of the Caribbean, Big Thunder Mountain Railroad (three times), Splash Mountain, Space Mountain (twice), Peter Pan's Flight, Mad Tea Party, and the best ride for a good relaxing time - the Tomorrowland Transit Authority.
So much fun. And exhausting. Susan and I decided that Disney should run the world. Or at least airports - they would be so organized and every detail would be covered. I definitely think there should be a Disney Airport.
8/22: Orlando to Miami. We weren't out of musicals yet, but we did change the pace on this day! We stayed at the Wyndham Grand Bay Hotel which promised to be a luxurious accomodation (you can only valet park your car!), but in reality ended up causing quite a bit of grief. I won't go into the details (I'll let Susan do that if she wants to), let me just recommend to everyone out there: DON'T BOTHER staying at ANY Wyndham Bay Hotels or Resorts. Just save yourself the hassle. We just chilled in Miami. "Chill" here is a relative term, as it was freaking HOT. We did some shopping at a rather upscale-looking mall, got room service (the nidus of the problems) and watched a movie.
8/23:We've now reached the day of the big cruise! But this blog is freaking long, my battery is just about dead, I need to do laundry, and I think it is really quite impressive to end the blog with the use of the word 'nidus.' So I'll stop here for now. Did anybody even bother reading this far???
Aug 18, 2004
Summation
So, I must finish the Tale of New York.
When we last left our noble heroes, they were about to embark on a journey of great importance: discovering pizza.
Mmmm, pizza. We went to Ray's Pizza, for some good ol' fashioned New York style pizza. I must admit here, however, that I prefer Chicago style pizza. I'll take a good deep-dish pizza with excessive amounts of sauce any day. Not that Ray's pizza was bad. In fact, it was delicious. I just prever Chicago's Pizzeria Uno.
We followed pizza with some sinfully good dessert at Roxy Delicatessen on Broadway. (The link is to the artist whose caricatures adorn the walls)
Our next mission: dancing. Again, I worried that we wouldn't find anything, being Sunday night and all. But I maintained hope that, since this is the City that Never Sleeps, we'd find some of those insomniacs dancing. Hopefully to something other than Pop or R&B or rap. Preferrably house.
We did some research in the book section at Virgin Megastore (and looked at the music while we were there), and decided to try the Meatpacking district. For me, the main draw to that particular location was because that was where Samantha lived in Sex and the City. I'd spent all weekend wanting to be like Carrie, so it seemed appropriate!
We ended up (after some drama, which was all my fault) at Lotus. The bouncer at the door was telling the guys trying to get in that there was a guest list, so they shouldn't even bother. So I walked up, and trying to play off my somewhat Southern-ified accent said, "There's a guest list?" and the bouncer-man proceeded to let us in. Now. I really don't think I'm all that charming. I think this 'guest list' just says 'All Females,' so we were in. After we paid the $20 cover, that is.
Ooh! Interjection: The Meatpacking District is where they actually pack meat. For some reason, I thought this was a figurative term, and perhaps at one point in the long ago past (when Irish couldn't find jobs) they'd done a lot of meat packing, but that now this was a fashionably upscale place where rich urbanites lived and played. Nope. There are warehouses. In them are stinky men. Packing stinky meat. And interspersed among these warehouses are the upscale clubs that are renowned for being quite hard to get into... That just seems so odd to me.
Okay. So, Lotus started out okay. There was a DJ and a live drummer (who was really good). It was a pretty narrow place, so not much of a dance floor, especially when it filled up (with the Sunday night crowd!) It got to the point where I was just constantly being shoved out of the way. Then the music switched to a more rap-py type persuasion, which is just not my thing. That, combined with the complete lack of space, convinced us to evacuate.
Now here is where the story gets interesting.
We went to another place that opened at one a.m. We couldn't get in there. (I know! So sad! I think we could have gotten in with a bribe for the bouncer, but...no. Plus, the music there didn't sound that much better to us) What to do? Where to go? We were walking down the street, pondering these age-old questions, when we were waylaid by a group of Indian guys. They were, as it happened, attempting to get into Lotus, but not being on the guest list (aka not female), had been turned away. Would we help two of them get in? (Apparently people on the guest list can drag in a guy with them)
We had wrist-bands, so we could get back in, so we agreed to do it, in exchange for a drink. Unfortunately, there were 6 guys, and only 2 us. They had some female friends who had gone in without them (what kind of friend would do that??), so the one guy called one girl to get them to come back out. They refused!
Never fear. The guys had a back-up plan. They were going to Show, another club near Times Square. We were invited to join them, so we did. Turns out these guys were part of a soccer team, and had just won a game, so were going out to celebrate. They knew someone at Show, so we got in for free, and got free drinks. It was SO cool. They were playing house music, which was what we were looking for. The club was really neat looking, and there were just the right number of people there. Crowded, but not ridiculous. It was apparently open until 8am, but Susan and I left around 3 (I think). The club was only two blocks from our hotel! We'd never have found it alone, though - it was behind an unmarked door. The place wasn't as exclusive as Lotus was at one point (four years ago), but I had more fun there.
Okay. I have more to write about, but I've been on the school computer for an hour, and the time limit is 15 minutes.
We leave for our cruise adventure tomorrow!!!!!!!
When we last left our noble heroes, they were about to embark on a journey of great importance: discovering pizza.
Mmmm, pizza. We went to Ray's Pizza, for some good ol' fashioned New York style pizza. I must admit here, however, that I prefer Chicago style pizza. I'll take a good deep-dish pizza with excessive amounts of sauce any day. Not that Ray's pizza was bad. In fact, it was delicious. I just prever Chicago's Pizzeria Uno.
We followed pizza with some sinfully good dessert at Roxy Delicatessen on Broadway. (The link is to the artist whose caricatures adorn the walls)
Our next mission: dancing. Again, I worried that we wouldn't find anything, being Sunday night and all. But I maintained hope that, since this is the City that Never Sleeps, we'd find some of those insomniacs dancing. Hopefully to something other than Pop or R&B or rap. Preferrably house.
We did some research in the book section at Virgin Megastore (and looked at the music while we were there), and decided to try the Meatpacking district. For me, the main draw to that particular location was because that was where Samantha lived in Sex and the City. I'd spent all weekend wanting to be like Carrie, so it seemed appropriate!
We ended up (after some drama, which was all my fault) at Lotus. The bouncer at the door was telling the guys trying to get in that there was a guest list, so they shouldn't even bother. So I walked up, and trying to play off my somewhat Southern-ified accent said, "There's a guest list?" and the bouncer-man proceeded to let us in. Now. I really don't think I'm all that charming. I think this 'guest list' just says 'All Females,' so we were in. After we paid the $20 cover, that is.
Ooh! Interjection: The Meatpacking District is where they actually pack meat. For some reason, I thought this was a figurative term, and perhaps at one point in the long ago past (when Irish couldn't find jobs) they'd done a lot of meat packing, but that now this was a fashionably upscale place where rich urbanites lived and played. Nope. There are warehouses. In them are stinky men. Packing stinky meat. And interspersed among these warehouses are the upscale clubs that are renowned for being quite hard to get into... That just seems so odd to me.
Okay. So, Lotus started out okay. There was a DJ and a live drummer (who was really good). It was a pretty narrow place, so not much of a dance floor, especially when it filled up (with the Sunday night crowd!) It got to the point where I was just constantly being shoved out of the way. Then the music switched to a more rap-py type persuasion, which is just not my thing. That, combined with the complete lack of space, convinced us to evacuate.
Now here is where the story gets interesting.
We went to another place that opened at one a.m. We couldn't get in there. (I know! So sad! I think we could have gotten in with a bribe for the bouncer, but...no. Plus, the music there didn't sound that much better to us) What to do? Where to go? We were walking down the street, pondering these age-old questions, when we were waylaid by a group of Indian guys. They were, as it happened, attempting to get into Lotus, but not being on the guest list (aka not female), had been turned away. Would we help two of them get in? (Apparently people on the guest list can drag in a guy with them)
We had wrist-bands, so we could get back in, so we agreed to do it, in exchange for a drink. Unfortunately, there were 6 guys, and only 2 us. They had some female friends who had gone in without them (what kind of friend would do that??), so the one guy called one girl to get them to come back out. They refused!
Never fear. The guys had a back-up plan. They were going to Show, another club near Times Square. We were invited to join them, so we did. Turns out these guys were part of a soccer team, and had just won a game, so were going out to celebrate. They knew someone at Show, so we got in for free, and got free drinks. It was SO cool. They were playing house music, which was what we were looking for. The club was really neat looking, and there were just the right number of people there. Crowded, but not ridiculous. It was apparently open until 8am, but Susan and I left around 3 (I think). The club was only two blocks from our hotel! We'd never have found it alone, though - it was behind an unmarked door. The place wasn't as exclusive as Lotus was at one point (four years ago), but I had more fun there.
Okay. I have more to write about, but I've been on the school computer for an hour, and the time limit is 15 minutes.
We leave for our cruise adventure tomorrow!!!!!!!
Aug 15, 2004
Day the Second
For some reason, these posts aren't actually posting. Something is screwy with the way Blogger works here at easyInternetcafe. Eh. Whatever, at least I don't appear to be losing the posts. I hope not anyway.
The spacebar on this keyboard is annoying.
So. Sadly, we did not get tickets to see "Wicked." We tried the lottery three times in two days. I think the guy running the lottery recognized us by the third time. Which is impressive, considering there were over 100 people there each time. I'm not a good judge of numbers, but I'd say there were at least 200. For 28 tickets...
Our second choice was Aida, so we decided to try for that one at the TKTS booth. Thwarted! No Aida tickets either. That bumped us down to The Producers or Bombay Dreams. Apparently, the only Producers tickets left were "limited view." So, that led us to choice #4: Bombay Dreams. We didn't know anything about it, but we both love musicals.
It was SO good! I've seen three Broadway shows now, and this one is definitely my favorite. All the Indian music and dancing, combined with an interesting plot (even kind of meaningful - a major accomplishment for the genre!) AND a very talented leading man. It was so much fun. I left it feeling the way I did when I left Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights. All pumped up, and really wanting to visit another culture. DD:HV as a movie stinks, though, and BN is fantastic. That's a big difference.
Last night, after we left this cafe, we went to dinner. I was really hungry and tired and grumpy, so I made Susan pick a restaurant (the thought of making a decision was enough to drive me to tears!) and we went to Haru, a Japanese sushi restaurant that was divine. We were going to have a 'chill' night, and maybe go see "Garden State." (which I'm dying to see, and is not playing in North Carolina - any where!) I casually mentioned Karaoke, though, and Susan was more than game. So much for the 'chill' night.
At the Haru hostess' recommendation, we ended up (after a very scary cab ride!) at Second on Second. It was very non-touristy and cool. It is actually a Japanese Restaurant/Sushi Bar as well. There were a bunch of people our age there (I was expecting old white guys and young Japanese girls) and we eventually joined forces with one group of people. I don't know if they really knew each other either, but by the end of the night we were all friends! I even had an Irish journalist (named Richard) buy me a beer. He had a great accent. It was SO much fun. We didn't get to the hotel until 3 (Karaoke was going until 4am!!) If you'll remember, this was after a mere 3 hours of sleep the night before. We were up for 22 hours! It felt like 10 days. This, folks, is how to vacation.
This morning we were up for brunch. I wore pearls. :) I wanted to fit the 'brunch' model I have in my head. So it was a sweater set, a grey pleated skirt and pearls. And my new bustier purse just for fun.
Now it is dinner time again. We're thinking pizza. Then we're off to find some dancing. It is Sunday night, but this is New York, right? There has to be some place that is open...
The spacebar on this keyboard is annoying.
So. Sadly, we did not get tickets to see "Wicked." We tried the lottery three times in two days. I think the guy running the lottery recognized us by the third time. Which is impressive, considering there were over 100 people there each time. I'm not a good judge of numbers, but I'd say there were at least 200. For 28 tickets...
Our second choice was Aida, so we decided to try for that one at the TKTS booth. Thwarted! No Aida tickets either. That bumped us down to The Producers or Bombay Dreams. Apparently, the only Producers tickets left were "limited view." So, that led us to choice #4: Bombay Dreams. We didn't know anything about it, but we both love musicals.
It was SO good! I've seen three Broadway shows now, and this one is definitely my favorite. All the Indian music and dancing, combined with an interesting plot (even kind of meaningful - a major accomplishment for the genre!) AND a very talented leading man. It was so much fun. I left it feeling the way I did when I left Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights. All pumped up, and really wanting to visit another culture. DD:HV as a movie stinks, though, and BN is fantastic. That's a big difference.
Last night, after we left this cafe, we went to dinner. I was really hungry and tired and grumpy, so I made Susan pick a restaurant (the thought of making a decision was enough to drive me to tears!) and we went to Haru, a Japanese sushi restaurant that was divine. We were going to have a 'chill' night, and maybe go see "Garden State." (which I'm dying to see, and is not playing in North Carolina - any where!) I casually mentioned Karaoke, though, and Susan was more than game. So much for the 'chill' night.
At the Haru hostess' recommendation, we ended up (after a very scary cab ride!) at Second on Second. It was very non-touristy and cool. It is actually a Japanese Restaurant/Sushi Bar as well. There were a bunch of people our age there (I was expecting old white guys and young Japanese girls) and we eventually joined forces with one group of people. I don't know if they really knew each other either, but by the end of the night we were all friends! I even had an Irish journalist (named Richard) buy me a beer. He had a great accent. It was SO much fun. We didn't get to the hotel until 3 (Karaoke was going until 4am!!) If you'll remember, this was after a mere 3 hours of sleep the night before. We were up for 22 hours! It felt like 10 days. This, folks, is how to vacation.
This morning we were up for brunch. I wore pearls. :) I wanted to fit the 'brunch' model I have in my head. So it was a sweater set, a grey pleated skirt and pearls. And my new bustier purse just for fun.
Now it is dinner time again. We're thinking pizza. Then we're off to find some dancing. It is Sunday night, but this is New York, right? There has to be some place that is open...
Aug 14, 2004
::Whine::
I think I may have had my entire "New York City" post disappear. Sigh... I can't have as much enthusiasm now. But I am in New York City!!! On 3 hours of sleep...
New York City!
aka The Big Apple. But does anybody really call it that any more? Hmmm. Well, I will. I am in the BIG APPLE.
I saw the Statue of Liberty for the first time. It was from the plane, though, so it looked really small. Like it was made out of Legos.
Our primary reason for coming was actually to see the musical "Wicked." There is a lottery every day 2.5 hours before the show for 28 seats (in the first two rows) for $25 each. We've gone thru two lotteries, and so far, no luck. Bummer. There is one more tomorrow - wish us luck!
We did go see 42nd Street, though, which was SO much FUN. Fun in the Big Apple. So much tap dancing, and shiny costumes, and singing and FUN!
After that, we went to Sephora, where they have scented glitter that is also flavored. Susan has been licking her arms all afternoon... And we went to the biggest Toys R Us I've ever seen. There is a ferris wheel inside. And we sang happy birthday to some kids, and played with some toys. They have a Travel Lite Brite. I want a Travel Lite Brite. A lot. I think it would be fun to carry around in my white coat at school - especially on the pediatric rotation. Who needs a stethoscope when you have a mini Lite Brite?????
We're at an Internet Cafe. I only paid for 17 minutes of internet (it was $1). So that's all for now.
I'm off to have more fun in the Big Apple...
I saw the Statue of Liberty for the first time. It was from the plane, though, so it looked really small. Like it was made out of Legos.
Our primary reason for coming was actually to see the musical "Wicked." There is a lottery every day 2.5 hours before the show for 28 seats (in the first two rows) for $25 each. We've gone thru two lotteries, and so far, no luck. Bummer. There is one more tomorrow - wish us luck!
We did go see 42nd Street, though, which was SO much FUN. Fun in the Big Apple. So much tap dancing, and shiny costumes, and singing and FUN!
After that, we went to Sephora, where they have scented glitter that is also flavored. Susan has been licking her arms all afternoon... And we went to the biggest Toys R Us I've ever seen. There is a ferris wheel inside. And we sang happy birthday to some kids, and played with some toys. They have a Travel Lite Brite. I want a Travel Lite Brite. A lot. I think it would be fun to carry around in my white coat at school - especially on the pediatric rotation. Who needs a stethoscope when you have a mini Lite Brite?????
We're at an Internet Cafe. I only paid for 17 minutes of internet (it was $1). So that's all for now.
I'm off to have more fun in the Big Apple...
Aug 13, 2004
Dance of Joy
Today, I donned my white coat (ugly, boxy garment that it is) for the last time for two whole weeks!! To add to that excitement, when I have to weat it again, I get to wear scrubs underneath - legitamately, (ohmigosh - I have NO idea how to spell legitamately... legitamatly...legitimately...I dont' know! something must be wrong!) as I'll be on my surgery rotation.
We (my partner on the consult psych team and I) went to the VA outpatient clinic today to see one last psych eval. Let me just take a minute to express my appreciation for all of the people willing to devote years of their life to serving the country in this way. I'm admittedly not a huge fan of what the US is doing right now, but I am not nearly well enough informed to rant about it. And I really think it is noble to join the armed forces. I wish I had the guts to do the same!
I digress.
Actually, to digress would have necessitated a point in the first place. I don't know that I had a point.
I did want to mention my current favorite psychological model/theory. Learned Helplessness. Seeing that my test is in a bit over an hour, I don't have time to expound on it...I just think it is really interesting. If you put a rat (or, by extension, a child) in a position where it has no control, and keep shocking it (or punishing/beating/ridiculing), eventually that rat (or child) will learn 'helplessness.' It gives up. Stops eating, stops interacting with its fellow rat-friends. It is a model of depression, that I think is fascinating.
But now, I need to study SSRIs. Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitors. Do you realize how much Prozac changed the world???
We (my partner on the consult psych team and I) went to the VA outpatient clinic today to see one last psych eval. Let me just take a minute to express my appreciation for all of the people willing to devote years of their life to serving the country in this way. I'm admittedly not a huge fan of what the US is doing right now, but I am not nearly well enough informed to rant about it. And I really think it is noble to join the armed forces. I wish I had the guts to do the same!
I digress.
Actually, to digress would have necessitated a point in the first place. I don't know that I had a point.
I did want to mention my current favorite psychological model/theory. Learned Helplessness. Seeing that my test is in a bit over an hour, I don't have time to expound on it...I just think it is really interesting. If you put a rat (or, by extension, a child) in a position where it has no control, and keep shocking it (or punishing/beating/ridiculing), eventually that rat (or child) will learn 'helplessness.' It gives up. Stops eating, stops interacting with its fellow rat-friends. It is a model of depression, that I think is fascinating.
But now, I need to study SSRIs. Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitors. Do you realize how much Prozac changed the world???
Aug 11, 2004
Goldwhales (of yore)
My last night on call in psych. Whoopee! Though, since surgery is coming up next, I don't know exactly how thrilled I should be... Eh, at least I don't have to take call for the next 2+ weeks. Ain't no one gonna page me while I'm on a cruise ship, baby.
So. I must vent for 20 seconds. Maybe more. The last time I was on call, I didn't get dinner. The grumpy resident did buy me a bag of chips, which was really quite nice, but I still blamed her for my hunger. Guess what? Tonight, again, I am missing dinner. And, again, it is GR's fault!! How could such a thing come about? I'm glad you asked. Well, actually, it isn't really all that interesting. We saw that there were several psych consults down in the ED, she said, "aren't you on call?" I (being between the rock and hard place of yore) said, "Um. Yeah." Then she told me to go down to help him. At which point, the nine year old that lives in my head started in "you're not the boss of me!" Unfortunately, I'm 26, and GR does get to grade me, and the attending was in support of the idea. So I went. Hungry.
Actually, I did stop by the cafeteria to grab a snack, so that I wouldn't be stuck at 8pm (when the caf closes) up the creek of yore without a paddle. Of yore. I'm totally on a modified version of the no carb diet for a week (no more than a week - I'd implode) before cruise-time. Guess what? There is no 'snack' sold in the cafeteria that is not made of extreme amounts of carbohydrates (with carb sprinkles) So, I kinda had to break my diet. Darn that GR. I got some trail-mixy stuff from a bulk bin. Lots of peanuts. And rosemary or something. AND goldwhales. That's right - not goldfish. Goldwhales. I thought that was interesting. But then, I'm easily amused. Much like the people of yore.
Anyway, I'm working with accented resident tonight. He's actually eating dinner, but I had my goldwhales, and didn't feel like struggling to make accented small talk over a wilted salad, so I ran away to blog, blog, blog.
Now I have to go help admit a patient. Grrr.
I don't think they did things like this in DOY (days of yore). I wanna go... Anybody gonna come along?
So. I must vent for 20 seconds. Maybe more. The last time I was on call, I didn't get dinner. The grumpy resident did buy me a bag of chips, which was really quite nice, but I still blamed her for my hunger. Guess what? Tonight, again, I am missing dinner. And, again, it is GR's fault!! How could such a thing come about? I'm glad you asked. Well, actually, it isn't really all that interesting. We saw that there were several psych consults down in the ED, she said, "aren't you on call?" I (being between the rock and hard place of yore) said, "Um. Yeah." Then she told me to go down to help him. At which point, the nine year old that lives in my head started in "you're not the boss of me!" Unfortunately, I'm 26, and GR does get to grade me, and the attending was in support of the idea. So I went. Hungry.
Actually, I did stop by the cafeteria to grab a snack, so that I wouldn't be stuck at 8pm (when the caf closes) up the creek of yore without a paddle. Of yore. I'm totally on a modified version of the no carb diet for a week (no more than a week - I'd implode) before cruise-time. Guess what? There is no 'snack' sold in the cafeteria that is not made of extreme amounts of carbohydrates (with carb sprinkles) So, I kinda had to break my diet. Darn that GR. I got some trail-mixy stuff from a bulk bin. Lots of peanuts. And rosemary or something. AND goldwhales. That's right - not goldfish. Goldwhales. I thought that was interesting. But then, I'm easily amused. Much like the people of yore.
Anyway, I'm working with accented resident tonight. He's actually eating dinner, but I had my goldwhales, and didn't feel like struggling to make accented small talk over a wilted salad, so I ran away to blog, blog, blog.
Now I have to go help admit a patient. Grrr.
I don't think they did things like this in DOY (days of yore). I wanna go... Anybody gonna come along?
Aug 10, 2004
Hmm.
I really have nothing to say, but since it has been so long since I said anything, I thought that I'd sign on to say that I have nothing to say.
I'm going to New York this weekend!
I got my oil changed this past weekend.
Ummm. I did my laundry. And went shopping.
A week from tomrrow, I'll be in Charleston (followed by Orlando, Miami, then CRUISE!)
Then I come back and start surgery. At that point, I'm sure I'll have a lot to say, but I'll be much too busy to say it.
I had an idea yesterday, but I forgot what it was...
I'm giving up carbs for a week. I think this diet works simply because there is NOTHING TO EAT.
I went to the state psychiatric hospital yesterday. It looked like a college campus. Suppose that's some sort of indication of college life?
That's all.
I'm going to New York this weekend!
I got my oil changed this past weekend.
Ummm. I did my laundry. And went shopping.
A week from tomrrow, I'll be in Charleston (followed by Orlando, Miami, then CRUISE!)
Then I come back and start surgery. At that point, I'm sure I'll have a lot to say, but I'll be much too busy to say it.
I had an idea yesterday, but I forgot what it was...
I'm giving up carbs for a week. I think this diet works simply because there is NOTHING TO EAT.
I went to the state psychiatric hospital yesterday. It looked like a college campus. Suppose that's some sort of indication of college life?
That's all.
Aug 4, 2004
You scurrilous knave
Every day deserves a good insult.
But, no one insults like Shakespeare...: Drunkenness is his best virtue, for he will be swine drunk, and in his sleep he does little harm, save to his bedclothes about him.
But, no one insults like Shakespeare...: Drunkenness is his best virtue, for he will be swine drunk, and in his sleep he does little harm, save to his bedclothes about him.
Aug 3, 2004
Say it ain't so!
I must admit that I did something...horrible today. Almost unspeakable. But, maybe I can absolve myself by admitting this to the internet at large. ::Deep breath:: I went to the library (I know...it's awful...) and I looked up an article (wait, it gets worse) and I MADE a COPY for my ATTENDING. ::Multiple thuds as bodies hit the floor after fainting in horror:: Yes, folks, I've wandered into the Land of the Gunner. I swore this day would never happen. But I couldn't help it! I was just really interested in this case we'd seen. I know...feeble excuse for actually making a photocopy specifically for my attending... I'll just have to make sure it doesn't happen again!
What could be so fascinating, I'm sure you are wondering, that would cause me to stray from the straight (and really quite wide) path of the semi-slacker? Beer Drinker's Potomania. Yup. You read that right. Beer. Drinker's. Potomania. Who knew?!? We saw a patient yesterday who was admitted with a sodium level of 99. Ninety-nine (bottles of beer on the wall...) Normal is 140. People with levels of less than 120 are usually in a coma or at least seizing. This patient's was 99. Lab error? Nope. Repeat level was 105. Granted, the patient was somewhat delerious at first - apparently thinking they were on a game show at some point.
Anyway. I'll spare you all the details. :)
I'm on call! This time with the very soft-spoken resident who I just know has a personality/sense of humor stashed somewhere behind his 1970's too big eyeglasses. I've seen glimpses... He (kind man that he is) let me eat. Mmmm. Food.
I got my dinner at the new Einsten Bros. bagel place that they opened a couple of weeks ago at the hospital. Unfortunately, they seem to have had the screening question "Are you an idiot?" on the application and mistakenly only took people who checked the "yes" box. Or maybe it wasn't a mistake. Anyway...getting food there is always an adventure.
Now I'm watching I Love the 80's on VH1 and just chillin'. Yeah. Chillin'
What could be so fascinating, I'm sure you are wondering, that would cause me to stray from the straight (and really quite wide) path of the semi-slacker? Beer Drinker's Potomania. Yup. You read that right. Beer. Drinker's. Potomania. Who knew?!? We saw a patient yesterday who was admitted with a sodium level of 99. Ninety-nine (bottles of beer on the wall...) Normal is 140. People with levels of less than 120 are usually in a coma or at least seizing. This patient's was 99. Lab error? Nope. Repeat level was 105. Granted, the patient was somewhat delerious at first - apparently thinking they were on a game show at some point.
Anyway. I'll spare you all the details. :)
I'm on call! This time with the very soft-spoken resident who I just know has a personality/sense of humor stashed somewhere behind his 1970's too big eyeglasses. I've seen glimpses... He (kind man that he is) let me eat. Mmmm. Food.
I got my dinner at the new Einsten Bros. bagel place that they opened a couple of weeks ago at the hospital. Unfortunately, they seem to have had the screening question "Are you an idiot?" on the application and mistakenly only took people who checked the "yes" box. Or maybe it wasn't a mistake. Anyway...getting food there is always an adventure.
Now I'm watching I Love the 80's on VH1 and just chillin'. Yeah. Chillin'
Jul 30, 2004
Nothing to fear
I'm in psych right now, and since the #1 anxiety disorder is a Phobia, this seemed an appropiate list:
Alektorophobia: Fear of chickens
Bogyphobia: Fear of bogeys or the bogeyman
Coulrophobia: Fear of clowns
Dendrophobia: Fear of trees
Euphobia: Fear of hearing good news
Frigophobia: Fear of cold or cold things
Geniophobia: Fear of chins
Homichlophobia: Fear of fog
Isopterophobia: Fear of termites, insects that eat wood
Japanophobia: Fear of Japanese
Kosmikophobia: Fear of cosmic phenomenon
Lutraphobia: Fear of otters
Mnemophobia: Fear of memories
Novercaphobia: Fear of your stepmother
Ophthalmophobia: Fear of being stared at
Paraskavedekatriaphobia: Fear of Friday the 13th
Ranidaphobia: Fear of frogs
Sciophobia: Fear of shadows
Textophobia: Fear of certain fabrics
Urophobia: Fear of urine or urinating
Verbophobia: Fear of words
Wiccaphobia: Fear of witches and witchcraft
Xanthophobia: Fear of the color yellow or the word yellow
Zemmiphobia: Fear of the great mole rat
I'm sorely disappointed that there is no "y" phobia. So I'll make one up: Yardophobia: fear of curly blonde hair. See more phobias here.
My fear tonight is that I won't get to eat dinner. I'm on call with the grumpy resident, and we didn't really finish rounds until after 7, and I lost my Pocket PC with my credit card (I'm getting it back - another student found it and e-mailed me), so I have no money on me, and I don't think that she'd buy me dinner or give me the opportunity to run home to eat. Grrr. And I'm missing the only all-school party of the year that is worth going to.
Is it okay if I keep whining? I'm on the psych inpatient floor right now, so I may just fit in...
Alektorophobia: Fear of chickens
Bogyphobia: Fear of bogeys or the bogeyman
Coulrophobia: Fear of clowns
Dendrophobia: Fear of trees
Euphobia: Fear of hearing good news
Frigophobia: Fear of cold or cold things
Geniophobia: Fear of chins
Homichlophobia: Fear of fog
Isopterophobia: Fear of termites, insects that eat wood
Japanophobia: Fear of Japanese
Kosmikophobia: Fear of cosmic phenomenon
Lutraphobia: Fear of otters
Mnemophobia: Fear of memories
Novercaphobia: Fear of your stepmother
Ophthalmophobia: Fear of being stared at
Paraskavedekatriaphobia: Fear of Friday the 13th
Ranidaphobia: Fear of frogs
Sciophobia: Fear of shadows
Textophobia: Fear of certain fabrics
Urophobia: Fear of urine or urinating
Verbophobia: Fear of words
Wiccaphobia: Fear of witches and witchcraft
Xanthophobia: Fear of the color yellow or the word yellow
Zemmiphobia: Fear of the great mole rat
I'm sorely disappointed that there is no "y" phobia. So I'll make one up: Yardophobia: fear of curly blonde hair. See more phobias here.
My fear tonight is that I won't get to eat dinner. I'm on call with the grumpy resident, and we didn't really finish rounds until after 7, and I lost my Pocket PC with my credit card (I'm getting it back - another student found it and e-mailed me), so I have no money on me, and I don't think that she'd buy me dinner or give me the opportunity to run home to eat. Grrr. And I'm missing the only all-school party of the year that is worth going to.
Is it okay if I keep whining? I'm on the psych inpatient floor right now, so I may just fit in...
Jul 23, 2004
Another Night On Call!!!
Yippee!!! This time, I'm in psych. It has been a relatively quiet night for psych. (As an interesting aside, I keep typing "psycho" instead of "psych." Freudian connotations anyone?)
My thoughts on psych so far: very, very different than medicine. My fellow partner-in-crime (i.e. the other student on consults with me) pointed out this morning that the residents on psych have a personality. Not that the medicine residents don't, per se. It's just that they're so... stressed out most of the time, that they turn a bit robo-tronic. And I did not meet a single medicine intern in June (their last month of internship) who did not claim to be at the most cynical point of their entire life. Medicine just does that to you.
Not psychiatry, apparently. I have actually laughed - guffawed even - every day on psych so far. Everyone is basically pretty chill (well, okay, except one resident who is wound up really, really tight and talksreallyreallyfastsothatyoucanbarelyunderstandwhatsheissaying. She smokes.)
And the patients are different, too. We do see patients admitted to the medicine floors, since we are the Consult Team (remember the capes!) But the intereactions are different. No stethescopes, no 'where does it hurt.' We get to hear a lot of stories. I thought I'd heard some good stories on medicine, but these stories I've heard lately are much more... interesting, I guess. More hardships and craziness that people have gone through. And all you have to do is say, "Hi, I'm so-and-so from psych" and they either 1. spill their guts or 2. claim they don't need psych and then proceed to spill their guts. Except for the one guy this morning who seemed convinced that Satan had sent us, and promptly tried to save us through Jesus Christ. But he was the exception.
I love the stories that I get to hear.
That all said and done, though... I am not a fan of psychiatry as a career choice. Yes, they're laid back and yes, the stories are great. But after you get that story, it is all med management. That's ALL it is. "How is that Xanax working for you, Mr. Anxious?"; "Are you able to sleep better with the Trazodone, Ms. Manic?" Gack. Me and medications do not mix in the first place, but then to have a specialty where that is really all that you do. Nope. Not for me.
But I'll have fun for the remaining three weeks that I'm here!
Perhaps this is the consult team:
Power Rangers Movie!
What movie Do you Belong in?(many different outcomes!)
brought to you by Quizilla
My thoughts on psych so far: very, very different than medicine. My fellow partner-in-crime (i.e. the other student on consults with me) pointed out this morning that the residents on psych have a personality. Not that the medicine residents don't, per se. It's just that they're so... stressed out most of the time, that they turn a bit robo-tronic. And I did not meet a single medicine intern in June (their last month of internship) who did not claim to be at the most cynical point of their entire life. Medicine just does that to you.
Not psychiatry, apparently. I have actually laughed - guffawed even - every day on psych so far. Everyone is basically pretty chill (well, okay, except one resident who is wound up really, really tight and talksreallyreallyfastsothatyoucanbarelyunderstandwhatsheissaying. She smokes.)
And the patients are different, too. We do see patients admitted to the medicine floors, since we are the Consult Team (remember the capes!) But the intereactions are different. No stethescopes, no 'where does it hurt.' We get to hear a lot of stories. I thought I'd heard some good stories on medicine, but these stories I've heard lately are much more... interesting, I guess. More hardships and craziness that people have gone through. And all you have to do is say, "Hi, I'm so-and-so from psych" and they either 1. spill their guts or 2. claim they don't need psych and then proceed to spill their guts. Except for the one guy this morning who seemed convinced that Satan had sent us, and promptly tried to save us through Jesus Christ. But he was the exception.
I love the stories that I get to hear.
That all said and done, though... I am not a fan of psychiatry as a career choice. Yes, they're laid back and yes, the stories are great. But after you get that story, it is all med management. That's ALL it is. "How is that Xanax working for you, Mr. Anxious?"; "Are you able to sleep better with the Trazodone, Ms. Manic?" Gack. Me and medications do not mix in the first place, but then to have a specialty where that is really all that you do. Nope. Not for me.
But I'll have fun for the remaining three weeks that I'm here!
Perhaps this is the consult team:
Power Rangers Movie!
What movie Do you Belong in?(many different outcomes!)
brought to you by Quizilla
Jul 22, 2004
Long time
So that whole "internet at home" thing has yet to fully pan out. Grr.
Now I'm on psych, on the Consult team (got a psycho? Call the consult team!!) We wear green capes with a big "C" on the back. Not really, but wouldn't that be cool???
Nothing much interesting going on nowadays.
Cruise in four weeks! Disney World before that! New York City before that! LOTS of working out at the Y before that! Yippee! I've become an official Y junkie. Now, when I am able to make it (being a super-hero psych consult person takes a long time) to the Y, I'm there for like 2 hours. Fun.
Now I'm on psych, on the Consult team (got a psycho? Call the consult team!!) We wear green capes with a big "C" on the back. Not really, but wouldn't that be cool???
Nothing much interesting going on nowadays.
Cruise in four weeks! Disney World before that! New York City before that! LOTS of working out at the Y before that! Yippee! I've become an official Y junkie. Now, when I am able to make it (being a super-hero psych consult person takes a long time) to the Y, I'm there for like 2 hours. Fun.
Jul 15, 2004
Top 10
The top 10 U.S. cities in which to find a rich, single man:
1. San Francisco Bay area, including Oakland and San Jose
2. Anchorage, Alaska
3. Washington D.C. and Baltimore, Maryland area
4. Sheboygan, Wisconsin
5. Naples, Florida
6. Twin Cities of Minneapolis and St. Paul, Minnesota
7. Rochester, Minnesota
8. Boston, Massachusetts
9. Fort Walton Beach, Florida
10. Dallas, Texas
I know people who live in 5 of these 10 places. Almost 6 of 10. Maybe I should move back to Minnesota...
Nope. Don't think I could do that!
I need to studay today. Grrrr. Test tomorrow. Neuro over, kind of sad...
Jul 13, 2004
Huzzah!
I have the internet at home now! Granted, it is quite slow, and a tad frustrating, but fun nonetheless.
Now off to the Y...
Now off to the Y...
Close Call
The Mysteriously Missing People Who Hate Me (MMPWHM) are supposed to be back on Monday when we start our psych rotation. This terrifies me. For psyche, we can call ahead of time to request what team we want to be on. I thought about doing this, to try to ensure that I would not be on a team with MMPWHM. But, I also was thinking that I should at least pretend to be an adult, and just let what happens happen...
Today, I joined forces with two non-MMPWHM and we decided to call to request things after all. And guess what. We had already been assigned. And guess - just guess - who I was paired with?? Yup. The biggest MMPWHM there is. Awful. Thankfully, we were able to pull a switch, and I will now be with a non-MMPWHM. How horrendously awful a month with that person would have been is beyond me. I'd have had a nervous breakdown, I just know it. Because I still seem to be the only one of all of us involved that is affected by it. I guess it is easier to dump a friend than to be the dumpee.
I feel like I narrowly missed death.
Question: how stable do you think a relationship is between a CCU nurse and a new second year resident that has existed for... less than 7 months, when she was (within the last year) previously dating a fellow? Not that I'd try to break it up or anything... I'm not the devil - I don't care what anyone says otherwise!!
Today, I joined forces with two non-MMPWHM and we decided to call to request things after all. And guess what. We had already been assigned. And guess - just guess - who I was paired with?? Yup. The biggest MMPWHM there is. Awful. Thankfully, we were able to pull a switch, and I will now be with a non-MMPWHM. How horrendously awful a month with that person would have been is beyond me. I'd have had a nervous breakdown, I just know it. Because I still seem to be the only one of all of us involved that is affected by it. I guess it is easier to dump a friend than to be the dumpee.
I feel like I narrowly missed death.
Question: how stable do you think a relationship is between a CCU nurse and a new second year resident that has existed for... less than 7 months, when she was (within the last year) previously dating a fellow? Not that I'd try to break it up or anything... I'm not the devil - I don't care what anyone says otherwise!!
Jul 12, 2004
Straight out of WHMS?
I just found out that my ex-boyfriend is engaged! I'm surprised, but not. It has been almost two years after all. (I'm amazed that time passes so quickly!) I guess the most disturbing thing about all of this is that I've not really dated anybody since I broke up with him. And he's engaged. Granted, he needs to get married to maintain citizenship in this country... I'm not dissing on him at all. Part of the reason I ended it was because I knew he needed to get married, and I knew that it would not be to me. He moved to the US as a young child, and because of stupid immigrant laws, had to be wed by 2005 (or something), or he'd have been sent back to his country of birth - whose language he isn't even fluent in any more. I think that's just silly, but that is beside the point.
The point being that I have an ex that is getting married. In a couple of weeks! (He proposed officially this weekend, I guess...) Just odd.
I feel like re-enacting the When Harry Met Sally scene, where she calls Harry and freaks out that her ex is getting married to "Kimberly." (at least, I think it's Kimberly) Except, I don't have a Harry, and I'm more like the Joe character in WHMS (i.e. I was the dumper, not the dumpee; and I was the one not looking to get married)
On a different note: I have seen three residents just get chewed out today. Ahhh... the immunity of being a hapless, clueless third year med student!
The point being that I have an ex that is getting married. In a couple of weeks! (He proposed officially this weekend, I guess...) Just odd.
I feel like re-enacting the When Harry Met Sally scene, where she calls Harry and freaks out that her ex is getting married to "Kimberly." (at least, I think it's Kimberly) Except, I don't have a Harry, and I'm more like the Joe character in WHMS (i.e. I was the dumper, not the dumpee; and I was the one not looking to get married)
On a different note: I have seen three residents just get chewed out today. Ahhh... the immunity of being a hapless, clueless third year med student!
Jul 8, 2004
Steeeee---rike!!!
Ever had one of those days? A day where you walk around in a haze of confusion with an overwhelming feeling of stupidity? If you're a med student, the answer to that question is more than likely yes. (unless I'm totally wrong, and I'm the only one...) I don't know what it is like for the general population at large.
Today started out okay. I pre-rounded on my patients, got an H&P (history and physical) on the new patient admitted last night, went to morning report, and had all my notes ready when rounds started. The bases were loaded and I was ready to bat.
I got to present the new patient right away, which usually is not a problem - in fact, there are times when I enjoy it. It is where you get to tell the best story of the patient's entire hospitalization: why they are there! what sort of strange background led up to the problem at hand! what lab tests showed! what phsyical exam maneuvers were just bizarre! It can be a great time. Unless your attending stands there staring at you, looking as if he will shoot lasers out of his laser-eyes into your nostrils, thru your ethmoid bone, into your frontal lobe for a modern day lobotomy to ensure that you never again form a full sentence, should you should happen to present anything incorrectly. Anything. Guess how well my presentation went this morning? It hearkened back to my days in the CCU, where I was wont to refer to a female patient as "he" because I was just really, really confused.
Strike One.
I never even had the chance to redeem myself! My second patient was whisked away to Neuro rehab, so I didn't really need to present that one. Then we had to leave rounds early to go to lecture. The timing usually doesn't work that way, except that our laser-eyed attending doesn't start rounds until 10 am, which is actually much more annoying than you'd think.
The lecture today was pretty interesting. Very interesting, in fact. Made more so by the fact that every time I opened my mouth to answer a question, I was 180 degrees away from the right answer. But, hey. At least I tried.
Ball One.
Lunch was uncomplicated.
Back on the floor. My upper level kept wanting me to do things, and, even though I was willing, I felt...frantic. I'm not sure why. I don't think I can blame this one on myself... I have a feeling that the upper level himself was frantic, and that I was just getting the frantic aura. I don't think I helped him much, though, as I kept doing things wrong. And nurses kept asking me questions whose answers I did not know.
Strike Two.
As we approaced the time to leave, one of my patients came to me in a huff demanding to know something about their medical care. This morning, the patient had been docile and sweet. (remember yesterday? my docile sweet patient who went crazy? Do I have this effect on people???) I did not know what to tell the patient. I'd seen them for a bit this morning, and that was it... and a lot of that was in the aftermath of my lobotomization.
::Cut to scene of Brenna making stuff up.::
A few minutes later, I am asked to go speak to the family of yesterday's crazy patient. Okay, remember when I said I had to leave rounds early? This has happened EVERY DAY this week, and as a result, I've NEVER seen this patient with any docs. It has all been me. Alone. Clueless. This is the person they send to go reassure the family and allay their fears. I KNOW NOTHING.
::Cut to scene of Brenna making stuff up.::
But I sounded smart...
Balls Two and Three.
The bases are loaded, and I'm at full count.
I think I'll go home now.
Good stuff.
Today started out okay. I pre-rounded on my patients, got an H&P (history and physical) on the new patient admitted last night, went to morning report, and had all my notes ready when rounds started. The bases were loaded and I was ready to bat.
I got to present the new patient right away, which usually is not a problem - in fact, there are times when I enjoy it. It is where you get to tell the best story of the patient's entire hospitalization: why they are there! what sort of strange background led up to the problem at hand! what lab tests showed! what phsyical exam maneuvers were just bizarre! It can be a great time. Unless your attending stands there staring at you, looking as if he will shoot lasers out of his laser-eyes into your nostrils, thru your ethmoid bone, into your frontal lobe for a modern day lobotomy to ensure that you never again form a full sentence, should you should happen to present anything incorrectly. Anything. Guess how well my presentation went this morning? It hearkened back to my days in the CCU, where I was wont to refer to a female patient as "he" because I was just really, really confused.
Strike One.
I never even had the chance to redeem myself! My second patient was whisked away to Neuro rehab, so I didn't really need to present that one. Then we had to leave rounds early to go to lecture. The timing usually doesn't work that way, except that our laser-eyed attending doesn't start rounds until 10 am, which is actually much more annoying than you'd think.
The lecture today was pretty interesting. Very interesting, in fact. Made more so by the fact that every time I opened my mouth to answer a question, I was 180 degrees away from the right answer. But, hey. At least I tried.
Ball One.
Lunch was uncomplicated.
Back on the floor. My upper level kept wanting me to do things, and, even though I was willing, I felt...frantic. I'm not sure why. I don't think I can blame this one on myself... I have a feeling that the upper level himself was frantic, and that I was just getting the frantic aura. I don't think I helped him much, though, as I kept doing things wrong. And nurses kept asking me questions whose answers I did not know.
Strike Two.
As we approaced the time to leave, one of my patients came to me in a huff demanding to know something about their medical care. This morning, the patient had been docile and sweet. (remember yesterday? my docile sweet patient who went crazy? Do I have this effect on people???) I did not know what to tell the patient. I'd seen them for a bit this morning, and that was it... and a lot of that was in the aftermath of my lobotomization.
::Cut to scene of Brenna making stuff up.::
A few minutes later, I am asked to go speak to the family of yesterday's crazy patient. Okay, remember when I said I had to leave rounds early? This has happened EVERY DAY this week, and as a result, I've NEVER seen this patient with any docs. It has all been me. Alone. Clueless. This is the person they send to go reassure the family and allay their fears. I KNOW NOTHING.
::Cut to scene of Brenna making stuff up.::
But I sounded smart...
Balls Two and Three.
The bases are loaded, and I'm at full count.
I think I'll go home now.
Good stuff.
Jul 7, 2004
Hmm.
I feel as if I should write something, but I have nothing to say. That is rare, actually. The fact that I have nothing to say. I usually have lots to say. But today? Nothing. Huh.
I think I may go to the mall. I haven't been there since April 2nd. The day I took my boards.
Did you know that it is July?
I had a patient start yelling at me this afternoon for hiding her "bill" today. (I think she was saying bill...I'm still not positive about that) I was informed that if her bill showed up on television, that it would become my bill. Also that I should stop pretending that I didn't know what damn bill she was talking about.
She knew that it was July.
Which I didn't.
Even though I fully understand that the reason I saw fireworks lighting up the night sky recently was in celebration of the union's 228th birthday and not because I was kissing my new-found soulmate. Because I was not kissing anyone, soulmate or otherwise.
Question of the day: Isn't the concept of "soul-mate" somewhat boring?
I think I may go to the mall. I haven't been there since April 2nd. The day I took my boards.
Did you know that it is July?
I had a patient start yelling at me this afternoon for hiding her "bill" today. (I think she was saying bill...I'm still not positive about that) I was informed that if her bill showed up on television, that it would become my bill. Also that I should stop pretending that I didn't know what damn bill she was talking about.
She knew that it was July.
Which I didn't.
Even though I fully understand that the reason I saw fireworks lighting up the night sky recently was in celebration of the union's 228th birthday and not because I was kissing my new-found soulmate. Because I was not kissing anyone, soulmate or otherwise.
Question of the day: Isn't the concept of "soul-mate" somewhat boring?
Jul 1, 2004
Emergency!
I'm heinously tired. Ha. I don't know that I've ever used the word heinous before. Definitely not in that context. I missed dinner tonight, so please forgive me any... random bizarreness-osity.
Tonight, dear children, we have a study on different doctor's (or perhaps just males in general's) personalities. It won't be a long lesson, or I'm likely to eat this plastic model of a brain sitting in front of me. Mmmmm...I love me some cerebellum...
I was down in the ED (I'm on call tonight, and that is the cool place to be) Guess who else was there? No, wrong. It was FNIB. But, see...I didn't realize FNIB was there until at least 20 minutes had passed. This was because FNIB was stuck in the shadow of a BJ. Yes, folks, a BJ. "What," you ponder queryingly, "is a BJ?" Well. Let me edu-mi-cate y'all. A BJ is a "Beautiful Jerk." This is a male that is quite objectively... beautiful. There is really no other description. I despise the usage of "hot." I like my sauce hot, and my coffee hot, but not people. That just cheapens it. But I digress. Like Dr. Ober, which is why, I think, he's one of the coolest people I've ever had as a teacher. However, he is not a BJ, and that is the subject of tonight's ramble.
BJ. It does not matter his true identity, for all he will ever be is a BJ. Objectively beautiful. The jerk part is just something that you feel emanating off of some people. He may be the nicest person in the world, but he will always be a BJ. He just is. So deal with it.
BJ swaggers around the ED. He has no goal in mind. I know, because I'm sitting there, doing nothing, and my eyes just naturally follow him. That's part of the BJ-ness. I watch him, even though he's basically just making laps around the ED.
FNIB wanders aimlessly around the ED. He, also has no goal in mind, but this is obvious to absolutely everyone who even glances at him. I try to watch what he's doing (because I'm still sitting there, doing nothing), but I keep losing him, even though he's basically just making laps around the ED.
As an aside - there is also a consumptive poet (male) wandering around the ED masquerading as a doctor. I don't know where he came from, but if this guy does not stand in the moonlight serenading a beautiful woman standing on a balcony sometime in his life, there is something wrong with the world.
I may have more BJ vs. FNIB comparisons to make, but right now my mouth is full of neoprene basal ganglia. Darn it all to hockey sticks. FEED ME.
Tonight, dear children, we have a study on different doctor's (or perhaps just males in general's) personalities. It won't be a long lesson, or I'm likely to eat this plastic model of a brain sitting in front of me. Mmmmm...I love me some cerebellum...
I was down in the ED (I'm on call tonight, and that is the cool place to be) Guess who else was there? No, wrong. It was FNIB. But, see...I didn't realize FNIB was there until at least 20 minutes had passed. This was because FNIB was stuck in the shadow of a BJ. Yes, folks, a BJ. "What," you ponder queryingly, "is a BJ?" Well. Let me edu-mi-cate y'all. A BJ is a "Beautiful Jerk." This is a male that is quite objectively... beautiful. There is really no other description. I despise the usage of "hot." I like my sauce hot, and my coffee hot, but not people. That just cheapens it. But I digress. Like Dr. Ober, which is why, I think, he's one of the coolest people I've ever had as a teacher. However, he is not a BJ, and that is the subject of tonight's ramble.
BJ. It does not matter his true identity, for all he will ever be is a BJ. Objectively beautiful. The jerk part is just something that you feel emanating off of some people. He may be the nicest person in the world, but he will always be a BJ. He just is. So deal with it.
BJ swaggers around the ED. He has no goal in mind. I know, because I'm sitting there, doing nothing, and my eyes just naturally follow him. That's part of the BJ-ness. I watch him, even though he's basically just making laps around the ED.
FNIB wanders aimlessly around the ED. He, also has no goal in mind, but this is obvious to absolutely everyone who even glances at him. I try to watch what he's doing (because I'm still sitting there, doing nothing), but I keep losing him, even though he's basically just making laps around the ED.
As an aside - there is also a consumptive poet (male) wandering around the ED masquerading as a doctor. I don't know where he came from, but if this guy does not stand in the moonlight serenading a beautiful woman standing on a balcony sometime in his life, there is something wrong with the world.
I may have more BJ vs. FNIB comparisons to make, but right now my mouth is full of neoprene basal ganglia. Darn it all to hockey sticks. FEED ME.
The Book Ban, and Why I am a Bad Person
I am no longer allowed to purchase books, as of right now. Finis.
And, I really hate it that my gut instinct is now to check Amazon to see if I can find a book cheaper than I can at Powell's
I'm exercising my patience to an extreme degree today.
And, I really hate it that my gut instinct is now to check Amazon to see if I can find a book cheaper than I can at Powell's
I'm exercising my patience to an extreme degree today.
Jun 30, 2004
Arg.
I was just going to write something really amazing, but my stupid pager is being stupid again. I just picked it up, because I brought it in Monday for being stupid. I thought it was smart now, but nope! Still stupid.
AHH!
AHH!
Jun 24, 2004
#*$PMS*(^&#
I'm tired and I'm hungry, and I don't like my upper level, and my patient keeps crying (why, oh, why do people feel the need to tell me all their troubles?!) and my other patient smells like poo, and I have to go to a stupid 3 hour training, and my head hurts and I have NO ONE TO COMPLAIN TO.
Ppbbblllltttt.
Ppbbblllltttt.
Jun 21, 2004
To Do Lists
This weekend, I made an all-encompassing "To Do" list, with the dream of accomplishing everything on it before Monday. Pipe dreams, of course, but I had to give it a shot. Knowing that one particular friend would read the list, I included the task: "Get a Date" just to be funny. Then there was a party Saturday night, and I decided to at least try to check that one off. (Me trying is generally not that effective) Anyway, I turned my full flirty force on two different lucky guys from our class. Totally harmless, and a lot of fun, really...
So, today we started new rotations - I'm in neuro, on the stroke service for two weeks, then on general neuro. (by the way, for anyone keeping track, 2 of the 3 people who hate me have completely DISAPPEARED. I SWEAR I had nothing to do with it!!!) The two aforementioned boys (men? am I that old yet?) are on a different team - together. They were on rounds this afternoon, and came to the floor I'm on. I was then faced with a dilemma which I have never experienced before: how to flirt with two guys at once. Or really, since we were technically at work, and full-force flirting is not really highly encouraged, how to not let either of them think that I was paying more attention to the other. It was quite a sticky situation. I felt like Marcia Brady. With curly hair and glasses. You know what I discovered, though? It's kinda fun! I think I should just keep up the flirting, and never actually check that task off the list...
I'm going on a cruise! Today begins the "Cruise Body Quest" That should include going to the Y to work out, but...I don't wanna!! I'm tired, I slept horribly last night, I need to be in by 6:30 tomorrow, and it is already past my 6pm rule. (Home by 6? Y by 7) So...I'll stick with the less food leg of CBQ, and hopefully I'll have time for the gym leg tomorrow. Is there another leg?
I haven't seen FNI in many, many days. Otherwise, I could potentially have 3 males to balance. Oh what a topsy-turvy world!
So, today we started new rotations - I'm in neuro, on the stroke service for two weeks, then on general neuro. (by the way, for anyone keeping track, 2 of the 3 people who hate me have completely DISAPPEARED. I SWEAR I had nothing to do with it!!!) The two aforementioned boys (men? am I that old yet?) are on a different team - together. They were on rounds this afternoon, and came to the floor I'm on. I was then faced with a dilemma which I have never experienced before: how to flirt with two guys at once. Or really, since we were technically at work, and full-force flirting is not really highly encouraged, how to not let either of them think that I was paying more attention to the other. It was quite a sticky situation. I felt like Marcia Brady. With curly hair and glasses. You know what I discovered, though? It's kinda fun! I think I should just keep up the flirting, and never actually check that task off the list...
I'm going on a cruise! Today begins the "Cruise Body Quest" That should include going to the Y to work out, but...I don't wanna!! I'm tired, I slept horribly last night, I need to be in by 6:30 tomorrow, and it is already past my 6pm rule. (Home by 6? Y by 7) So...I'll stick with the less food leg of CBQ, and hopefully I'll have time for the gym leg tomorrow. Is there another leg?
I haven't seen FNI in many, many days. Otherwise, I could potentially have 3 males to balance. Oh what a topsy-turvy world!
Jun 20, 2004
Movie Review
I love movies.
Just saw The Terminal starring Tom Hanks this weekend. It was a fantastic movie. I really enjoyed it, even if it was a full 128 minutes long (plus the 20 or so previews our theater insists on showing - 5 previews: good; 8-10 + commercials: just too many). I just discovered that this story was loosely based on a real person! Some guy has been living in the Charles de Gualle airport in Paris since 1988. I was 10 in 1988. Don't believe me? I'm not quite sure if I do... but check it out here.
Ah...I fear my internet may be about to crash on me... And I have dinner coming up, so alas, I must depart.
I'm going on a cruise in August! Yippeeeee!
Just saw The Terminal starring Tom Hanks this weekend. It was a fantastic movie. I really enjoyed it, even if it was a full 128 minutes long (plus the 20 or so previews our theater insists on showing - 5 previews: good; 8-10 + commercials: just too many). I just discovered that this story was loosely based on a real person! Some guy has been living in the Charles de Gualle airport in Paris since 1988. I was 10 in 1988. Don't believe me? I'm not quite sure if I do... but check it out here.
Ah...I fear my internet may be about to crash on me... And I have dinner coming up, so alas, I must depart.
I'm going on a cruise in August! Yippeeeee!
Jun 18, 2004
The Rebellion Begins!!!
All technology is revolting against me! First my pager, then my computer. I'm a little frightened of going home to see what disastrous events will greet me there.
Argh.
Thankfully, all I needed for the test was a #2 pencil. I wonder what would really happen if I took a test with a #3 pencil...
Argh.
Thankfully, all I needed for the test was a #2 pencil. I wonder what would really happen if I took a test with a #3 pencil...
Work-a-holics 'R Us
I have never understood how people in 'business' (generic term for any industry that I know nothing about) could spend 80 hours a week at work - it is just paper and numbers and junk. At least that's my perception of it - I don't want to offend anyone...Gretchen... :) I had felt the same way about doctors, too. Why not just leave at the end of the day - it will all be there tomorrow, after all. After a mere 8 weeks of medicine, I feel differently... It is really bothering me that I don't know what is going on with my patients. I actually considered going on rounds again this morning, even though yesterday was our last day. We're working with people's lives here. We have so much responsibility. (Well, not me personally, but the team does) Already, my own needs seem less important than figuring out why a patient is in renal failure, or making sure that another patient's hemoglobin rises appropriately after blood transfusion. As with everything in medicine, there has to be a balance... Someday, I'm sure I'll find it.
New medical term I learned this week: "squirrel." Refers to a patient who is faking pain or other symptoms. We had a squirrel on service this week. She seemed like she was really having symptoms (nausea/vomiting and severe abdominal pain) even though tests showed nothing. After they kept her NPO for two days, she miraculously felt better.
I have a test this afternoon. Blech.
Yesterday, I was sitting outside Jason's Deli waiting for Susan. One of the high school-aged employees came out for a smoke and a phone call. She told her friend on the phone that she'd been waiting over an hour for a cigarette, and was so riled up that she'd actually slapped a fellow employee. Slapped! Because she hadn't had a cigarette! Does she NOT see something wrong with that? Good grief, people. If not having something makes you a raving lunatic, maybe you should try to give it up. Grr. I wanted to slap her myself! But, then, it had been a while since I'd had caffeine... ;)
Rambling, rambling, rambling...
New medical term I learned this week: "squirrel." Refers to a patient who is faking pain or other symptoms. We had a squirrel on service this week. She seemed like she was really having symptoms (nausea/vomiting and severe abdominal pain) even though tests showed nothing. After they kept her NPO for two days, she miraculously felt better.
I have a test this afternoon. Blech.
Yesterday, I was sitting outside Jason's Deli waiting for Susan. One of the high school-aged employees came out for a smoke and a phone call. She told her friend on the phone that she'd been waiting over an hour for a cigarette, and was so riled up that she'd actually slapped a fellow employee. Slapped! Because she hadn't had a cigarette! Does she NOT see something wrong with that? Good grief, people. If not having something makes you a raving lunatic, maybe you should try to give it up. Grr. I wanted to slap her myself! But, then, it had been a while since I'd had caffeine... ;)
Rambling, rambling, rambling...
Jun 16, 2004
If I Only Had a Brain...
That song just popped into my head. Ominous for my test Friday? I hope not.
Time to check out. Not that I'm leaving. Of course not. It's CALL NIGHT!!! And we have room for 9 patients. That's after being fully-capped for like 3 weeks. Ugh. Well, at least my last call night on gen med won't be boring.
Oh, I would tell you why
The ocean's near the shore
I could think of things I never thunk before
And then I'd sit
and think some more...
I would not be just a nuffin'
My head all full of stuffin'
My heart all full of pain
I would dance and be merry
Life would be a ding-a-derry
If I only had a brain
IF ONLY!!!
Time to check out. Not that I'm leaving. Of course not. It's CALL NIGHT!!! And we have room for 9 patients. That's after being fully-capped for like 3 weeks. Ugh. Well, at least my last call night on gen med won't be boring.
Oh, I would tell you why
The ocean's near the shore
I could think of things I never thunk before
And then I'd sit
and think some more...
I would not be just a nuffin'
My head all full of stuffin'
My heart all full of pain
I would dance and be merry
Life would be a ding-a-derry
If I only had a brain
IF ONLY!!!
Jun 12, 2004
A message for a new tomorrow
Former President Bush is to jump from an airplane tomorrow. Twice. (Obviously, he's parachuting, not taking Kevorkian's ethics to the skies.) His mission is to send out the message that "just because you're 80, that doesn't mean you can't do fun stuff or interesting things." Fun stuff or interesting things. I wonder how many 80 year olds are interested in parachuting? I mean... I am, but I'm 26.
Anyway. It's 11:30, and I have to be back here at 5:30, so I'm going to go find out if I can go home yet.
I tried (and missed) my first lumbar puncture today!
Anyway. It's 11:30, and I have to be back here at 5:30, so I'm going to go find out if I can go home yet.
I tried (and missed) my first lumbar puncture today!
Jun 11, 2004
Confessions of a Psycho
Okay, so yesterday was my birthday. Yay for me, blah, blah, I'm old and all that jazz.
Now to the real matter at hand: the question of my sanity.
So. My very first week as a third year medical student, I worked with a team that was entirely male (11 males and me on rounds...odd experience) They were only there for a week, but during that one week, I let myself become slightly obsessed with one of the males on the team. The only reason for this was that he was single. To this day, he is the only single resident/intern/attending that I have worked with - male or female. Well, there was one other guy, but I'm 95% sure that he's gay, so he doesn't count.
Anyway. The intern. He has kind of a fun name (which I'm not going to post online - I'm not that dumb), so it is kind of fun to repeat it in my head. Much as one might repeat the phrase "Hearken to the bananas soliloquize rhapsodically." I was sad when said fun-named intern left the team. He was a nice guy, after all. And single, which appears to be my only qualification at times...
I knew that I could potentially see him around again, though. He was doing outpatient stuff for a month, then would be back at the hospital. I didn't know where, though. Then. My first day on general medicine, fun-named intern's brother is on one of the other medicine teams (he's a fourth year med student). I overhear that FNI is working in the MICU. Since then I've seen FNI's fun name on several charts of patients that get sent to us from MICU. But I had no occasion to actually go to the MICU to take care of some spy-team spying.
THEN. Yesterday, one of the nicest patient's I have had went in for a colonoscopy to look for GI bleeding. During this, the doctor managed to tear a hole in her colon. Yeah. Now it's bleeding. Darn... I feel very bad for this patient - BUT - guess where she is right now? Go on! Guess! That's right. She is in the MICU! I just went to see her. AND!!! FNI was there! I couldn't come up with an excuse to go talk to him, and I'm not 100% sure that he saw me...but. It was still fun anyway. :) I went to the cafeteria to get a Diet Pepsi to celebrate. Though...after more than a month... I'm starting to think that maybe I should shift my attentions to FNIB. That's fun-named intern's brother, who also, incidentally, has a fun name.
Sane or no? You be the judge. I'm off hearkening to those lovely bananas.
Now to the real matter at hand: the question of my sanity.
So. My very first week as a third year medical student, I worked with a team that was entirely male (11 males and me on rounds...odd experience) They were only there for a week, but during that one week, I let myself become slightly obsessed with one of the males on the team. The only reason for this was that he was single. To this day, he is the only single resident/intern/attending that I have worked with - male or female. Well, there was one other guy, but I'm 95% sure that he's gay, so he doesn't count.
Anyway. The intern. He has kind of a fun name (which I'm not going to post online - I'm not that dumb), so it is kind of fun to repeat it in my head. Much as one might repeat the phrase "Hearken to the bananas soliloquize rhapsodically." I was sad when said fun-named intern left the team. He was a nice guy, after all. And single, which appears to be my only qualification at times...
I knew that I could potentially see him around again, though. He was doing outpatient stuff for a month, then would be back at the hospital. I didn't know where, though. Then. My first day on general medicine, fun-named intern's brother is on one of the other medicine teams (he's a fourth year med student). I overhear that FNI is working in the MICU. Since then I've seen FNI's fun name on several charts of patients that get sent to us from MICU. But I had no occasion to actually go to the MICU to take care of some spy-team spying.
THEN. Yesterday, one of the nicest patient's I have had went in for a colonoscopy to look for GI bleeding. During this, the doctor managed to tear a hole in her colon. Yeah. Now it's bleeding. Darn... I feel very bad for this patient - BUT - guess where she is right now? Go on! Guess! That's right. She is in the MICU! I just went to see her. AND!!! FNI was there! I couldn't come up with an excuse to go talk to him, and I'm not 100% sure that he saw me...but. It was still fun anyway. :) I went to the cafeteria to get a Diet Pepsi to celebrate. Though...after more than a month... I'm starting to think that maybe I should shift my attentions to FNIB. That's fun-named intern's brother, who also, incidentally, has a fun name.
Sane or no? You be the judge. I'm off hearkening to those lovely bananas.
Jun 7, 2004
Odd things
1. Boys.
2. How does the ink know to move up in a ball point pen? Is it all gravity?
3. My sister. Actually: both of my sisters.
4. Time.
5. Boys.
6. Life and people.
7. People that start smoking when they're adults.
8. Me, of course.
9. Ice.
10. Boys.
2. How does the ink know to move up in a ball point pen? Is it all gravity?
3. My sister. Actually: both of my sisters.
4. Time.
5. Boys.
6. Life and people.
7. People that start smoking when they're adults.
8. Me, of course.
9. Ice.
10. Boys.
Jun 4, 2004
Comical interlude or just annoying wait?
I'm waiting for check out rounds. So far everyone has shown up. Just not at the same time. They peek their head in, then leave when they see that no one else is here. This has been going on for an HOUR. I'm starting to get annoyed. Maybe I'll leave.
Jun 3, 2004
Match.com
A personal statement I would never respond to:
I am someone with an inquisitive mind who views life as a course of daring adventure. blech! Being open to new things and striving to live life to the fullest is very important to me, as I still firmly believe that life is essentially what you make out of your finite time in this world and I believe that was a horrible run-on sentence that MAKES NO SENSE WHATSOEVER. I constantly try to learn something (both from good and bad good and bad whats? oysters?) and like to immerse myself into deep philosophical debates in other words: I think I'm smarter than almost everyone and generally connect well with those who crave for deep meanings of life and understand that there is more to life than making the ends meet from one peroid to another in other words: I'm poor. I am open minded and don't want to preclude anybody I'd give this guy ten dollars if he could actually give me the definition of "preclude". I believe we all offer something to learn from each other in a certain way for instance: I could teach this boy some grammar. If you are looking for an adventurer with an eclectic range of interests and zest for life as long as he's ZEST-fully clean, I would love to hear from you. Thank you! You're welcome!
I am someone with an inquisitive mind who views life as a course of daring adventure. blech! Being open to new things and striving to live life to the fullest is very important to me, as I still firmly believe that life is essentially what you make out of your finite time in this world and I believe that was a horrible run-on sentence that MAKES NO SENSE WHATSOEVER. I constantly try to learn something (both from good and bad good and bad whats? oysters?) and like to immerse myself into deep philosophical debates in other words: I think I'm smarter than almost everyone and generally connect well with those who crave for deep meanings of life and understand that there is more to life than making the ends meet from one peroid to another in other words: I'm poor. I am open minded and don't want to preclude anybody I'd give this guy ten dollars if he could actually give me the definition of "preclude". I believe we all offer something to learn from each other in a certain way for instance: I could teach this boy some grammar. If you are looking for an adventurer with an eclectic range of interests and zest for life as long as he's ZEST-fully clean, I would love to hear from you. Thank you! You're welcome!
Jun 2, 2004
Week the Last
Tomorrow is the first day of my last week as a 25-year-old. I liked being 25. It went by awfully quickly, though, and I feel like I missed most of it. 26 is freaking old. I'm going to be in my late 20s soon. Aren't I supposed to have more...stuff? Houses and cars and beach-front property? And...kids and all that jazz? I don't feel old enough to be that old. Not that 26 is old. It is just older than I feel. I feel 17. That was a good age! But then I'd be like Doogie Howser or something. (Which, by the way, was just added to TVland's line-up)
What is the appropriate way to spend one's last week of 25-dom? Any suggestions? And what is the best way to usher in the onset of 26? My plans right now consist of me singing Happy Birthday to myself. With a cupcake. And a candle. And maybe a margarita. Or a Diet Pepsi.
What is the appropriate way to spend one's last week of 25-dom? Any suggestions? And what is the best way to usher in the onset of 26? My plans right now consist of me singing Happy Birthday to myself. With a cupcake. And a candle. And maybe a margarita. Or a Diet Pepsi.
Jun 1, 2004
Good-bye-oh O-hi-oh
Ahh...the end of a three day weekend. How sad. I went to Ohio! I'd never really been before (besides the Cincinnati airport). I was in Dayton visiting a friend who goes to school there. Here is a short list of the things I did:
1. Saw three goats get their heads stuck in a fence (don't worry - we saved them!) and had some great ice cream.
2. Saw Supersize Me, a very entertaining documentary about a guy who goes on a McDiet (all McDonald's, all the time). I definitely recommend it. The movie, not the diet.
3. Went on a bathroom shopping spree. Think pink.
4. Threw my back out by sneezing.
5. Ate at Skyline Chili, an Ohio original.
6. Learned that the Wright brothers did all their work in Dayton, Ohio and merely used Kitty Hawk, NC as a good spot for wind. Also saw bunches of neat old planes at the United States Air Force Museum.
7. Saw The Day After Tomorrow. I love movies like this, even if they are formulaic (i.e. divorced couple realizes that they still really love each other when faced with a huge meteor/earthquake/ice age; rogue scientist gets to show that they were, indeed, correct in predicting the demolition of mankind; etc.)
8. Discovered that West Virginia is quite a beautiful state.
9. Ate a funnel cake. I love funnel cakes...
10. Drove for a totoal of about 15 hours in three days. Cool. I love my truck. It still doesn't have a good name, though. I kind of call it "Silver," like the Lone Ranger's horse. It is kind of boring, but does work...
My back hurts, and I'm tired and hungry, and this list was only going to be three things long, but then I get started, and can't stop!!!
I do have a pager again, in case there is anyone out there just dying to page me.
I'm leaving now.
1. Saw three goats get their heads stuck in a fence (don't worry - we saved them!) and had some great ice cream.
2. Saw Supersize Me, a very entertaining documentary about a guy who goes on a McDiet (all McDonald's, all the time). I definitely recommend it. The movie, not the diet.
3. Went on a bathroom shopping spree. Think pink.
4. Threw my back out by sneezing.
5. Ate at Skyline Chili, an Ohio original.
6. Learned that the Wright brothers did all their work in Dayton, Ohio and merely used Kitty Hawk, NC as a good spot for wind. Also saw bunches of neat old planes at the United States Air Force Museum.
7. Saw The Day After Tomorrow. I love movies like this, even if they are formulaic (i.e. divorced couple realizes that they still really love each other when faced with a huge meteor/earthquake/ice age; rogue scientist gets to show that they were, indeed, correct in predicting the demolition of mankind; etc.)
8. Discovered that West Virginia is quite a beautiful state.
9. Ate a funnel cake. I love funnel cakes...
10. Drove for a totoal of about 15 hours in three days. Cool. I love my truck. It still doesn't have a good name, though. I kind of call it "Silver," like the Lone Ranger's horse. It is kind of boring, but does work...
My back hurts, and I'm tired and hungry, and this list was only going to be three things long, but then I get started, and can't stop!!!
I do have a pager again, in case there is anyone out there just dying to page me.
I'm leaving now.
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