Jun 29, 2005
Thank You, Chloe
I've never been much of a concert-goer, generally preferring theater to over-priced, eardrum-bursting crazy fests. But even I could not resist the lure of going to an outdoor Dave Matthews Band concert, and that was where I would have been found last night.
As a side note, when I told my sister that I was going, her first comment was "Heh. There is going to be so much pot." which caused me to have a dream about me and Susan having to go to the emergency room, and they did a drug test on Susan, and it came back positive for cannabinoids, and I was trying to get someone to believe me that it was all because we'd been exposed to second hand pot smoke. I woke up before any dream doctors believed me...
Back to the concert. We left with plenty of time to get there by the time Dave should have been on the stage. We didn't account for the fact, however, that the ENTIRE WORLD was going to be driving down the same road at the same time. We got within probably a mile of the venue, and it took us OVER AN HOUR - nigh on an hour and a HALF, even - before we actually got to park. At one point during this adventure of static insanity, a young girl appeared at my window, as if by magic.
Then she left, and I noticed a gigantic flower painted over her shoulder. I wished I'd thought to paint a gigantic flower on my shoulder...
After another thirty minutes or so, during which time we realized that the parking lot was FULL, a cop finally told us to "just park on the sidewalk up there." She looked quite defeated and exasperated.
Finally, finally, we made it into the Verizon Wireless Amphitheater and saw Dave and band rockin' away. Susan and I wended our way to a spot with an okay view and stood bopping around for a while.
Then, as if by magic, Chloe appeared! (There were like 5 BILLION people there, yet there was Chloe) She informed us that she was in a better spot and took us there. And better it was! In the center, as far forward as you could get with the cheap tickets. Very, very nice. Thank you, Chloe! Granted, this did put us in pot central, but at least everyone was really happy, and neither Susan nor I did, in fact, have to go to the emergency room or undergo random drug testing.
The one last note I have to make is this: I'm getting old. There were definitely people at the concert (not in pot-central) that were older than me, but not all that many. And I spent the whole concert with at least 25% of my brain watching everyone around me making sure that they weren't lighting each other on fire (almost happened), getting alcohol poisoning (almost happened), or breaking bones (almost happened repeatedly) as I knew that Susan and I would be the ones that would have to take control and save the day.
I guess I have a new reason to not go to concerts...!
As a side note, when I told my sister that I was going, her first comment was "Heh. There is going to be so much pot." which caused me to have a dream about me and Susan having to go to the emergency room, and they did a drug test on Susan, and it came back positive for cannabinoids, and I was trying to get someone to believe me that it was all because we'd been exposed to second hand pot smoke. I woke up before any dream doctors believed me...
Back to the concert. We left with plenty of time to get there by the time Dave should have been on the stage. We didn't account for the fact, however, that the ENTIRE WORLD was going to be driving down the same road at the same time. We got within probably a mile of the venue, and it took us OVER AN HOUR - nigh on an hour and a HALF, even - before we actually got to park. At one point during this adventure of static insanity, a young girl appeared at my window, as if by magic.
Girl: Are you guys waiting in line for Dave Matthews?
Us: We think so...
Girl: So are we. I can't believe this. I'm getting really pissed off!
Us: Ha, yeah, so are we.
Girl [smiles brightly]: I'm Chloe!
Us: Hi... We're Brenna and Susan.
Then she left, and I noticed a gigantic flower painted over her shoulder. I wished I'd thought to paint a gigantic flower on my shoulder...
After another thirty minutes or so, during which time we realized that the parking lot was FULL, a cop finally told us to "just park on the sidewalk up there." She looked quite defeated and exasperated.
Finally, finally, we made it into the Verizon Wireless Amphitheater and saw Dave and band rockin' away. Susan and I wended our way to a spot with an okay view and stood bopping around for a while.
Then, as if by magic, Chloe appeared! (There were like 5 BILLION people there, yet there was Chloe) She informed us that she was in a better spot and took us there. And better it was! In the center, as far forward as you could get with the cheap tickets. Very, very nice. Thank you, Chloe! Granted, this did put us in pot central, but at least everyone was really happy, and neither Susan nor I did, in fact, have to go to the emergency room or undergo random drug testing.
The one last note I have to make is this: I'm getting old. There were definitely people at the concert (not in pot-central) that were older than me, but not all that many. And I spent the whole concert with at least 25% of my brain watching everyone around me making sure that they weren't lighting each other on fire (almost happened), getting alcohol poisoning (almost happened), or breaking bones (almost happened repeatedly) as I knew that Susan and I would be the ones that would have to take control and save the day.
I guess I have a new reason to not go to concerts...!
Jun 28, 2005
Jun 24, 2005
Jun 23, 2005
Regimental
I realized that I haven't written a post in a while, so I decided that I should write something. Then I realized how boring my life has been for the past couple of days! This whole studying thing has taken all the drama out of my life. I suppose that is good, as long as it is only for a few weeks.
This is how my days have been going lately:
Same thing, day in, day out. How monotonous. And today was only the fourth day of it! I am quite proud that I have kept to my schedule so well. I don't tend to stick terribly well to schedules... I guess because things like this happen - having absolutely NOTHING interesting to say. Isn't it horrible?
Maybe tomorrow I'll throw caution to the wind and... get up at 9! See, but then I'd miss my episode of A Different World during breakfast. What's a girl to do?
In other news, all this working out has made me EXTREMELY sore. Today, instead of going to the Y, I thought I'd take it easy, and merely did a 7 mile jaunt around Salem Lake. Idjit. I can barely move now. Except to type, of course... and to turn pages in my study books (darn it!)
And finally, "Meanwhile Back on the Farm" has TRUE meaning to me after 27 years of existence, now that my "Permanent Address" has changed officially today to my parent's new FARM! They are, as I type, moving out of our home of some 17 years to a new home. It is a mere 6.5 miles away in distance, but it will truly be a new life. My poor mother is stuck for an indeterminate amount of time without Internet OR Television (for some reason the Green Acres theme pops into my mind)... Send her happy thoughts, people.
This is how my days have been going lately:
8:30 - Get up, cook (!) breakfast (eggs and toast)
9:00-12:00 - Study at home (interspersed with numerous games of Minesweeper)
12:00-1:00 - Lunch, while watching an episode of Faerie Tale Theatre - unbelievably, there were ones I didn't see as a child!
1:00-3:00 - Work out and shower (notice that I spent the morning all dirty and nasty - thus the studying at home)
3:00-6:00 - Study away from home (Barnes and Noble, Panera, Library, etc.)
6:00-7:00 - Dinner
7:00 and on - watch TV, re-re-read Harry Potter (in preparation for July 16th!)
Same thing, day in, day out. How monotonous. And today was only the fourth day of it! I am quite proud that I have kept to my schedule so well. I don't tend to stick terribly well to schedules... I guess because things like this happen - having absolutely NOTHING interesting to say. Isn't it horrible?
Maybe tomorrow I'll throw caution to the wind and... get up at 9! See, but then I'd miss my episode of A Different World during breakfast. What's a girl to do?
In other news, all this working out has made me EXTREMELY sore. Today, instead of going to the Y, I thought I'd take it easy, and merely did a 7 mile jaunt around Salem Lake. Idjit. I can barely move now. Except to type, of course... and to turn pages in my study books (darn it!)
And finally, "Meanwhile Back on the Farm" has TRUE meaning to me after 27 years of existence, now that my "Permanent Address" has changed officially today to my parent's new FARM! They are, as I type, moving out of our home of some 17 years to a new home. It is a mere 6.5 miles away in distance, but it will truly be a new life. My poor mother is stuck for an indeterminate amount of time without Internet OR Television (for some reason the Green Acres theme pops into my mind)... Send her happy thoughts, people.
Jun 20, 2005
Deja Vu, Is That You?
Moving beyond my utter shock to find myself already in the third month of fourth year, I have to face that daunting task of again studying for the boards.
Anyway. I do get a full four weeks off to study for Step 2. It is kind of nice to return to my roots, as it were. This is comfort zone, after all. I may not know much about taking care of patients, but I know how to study, my friends.
Adoring Crowd: But... I thought you took those last year?
World-Weary Brenna: I did.
AC: And I thought you passed.
WWB: I did.
AC [bewilderedly]: Then why...?
WWB: Ahh, you see: last year was only one step in a three-step testing process. Some liken these tests to 'hoops' that must be 'jumped through.' I am currently studying for the second hoo - I mean test. Another long test day awaits me at the end of the month - nine hours this time, instead of eight. Plus, I get the added excitement of driving five hours to Atlanta to take an English test. Officially, it is known as the "Clinical Skills" portion of the exam where we talk to actors (aka standardized patients) to prove that we can 1) Speak English and 2) Know where to place our stethoscope. All for the bargain price of $1420...
Anyway. I do get a full four weeks off to study for Step 2. It is kind of nice to return to my roots, as it were. This is comfort zone, after all. I may not know much about taking care of patients, but I know how to study, my friends.
Jun 15, 2005
Winding Down
I am nearing the end of my Pediatrics Acting Internship. Waaay back in first year, when I learned that we had to do two "AIs," the thought was absolutely terrifying. It wasn't until well into third year that I realized that it was not something fully beyond my capabilities. I enjoyed my third year rotation in peds, but it was not my favorite. I was actually a bit disappointed that I didn't absolutely love it. So, at the beginning of this rotation, I felt confident in my abilities, but worried that I'd feel the same way about inpatient peds as I did back in February.
I am happy to report that this rotation has probably been my best ever as a student. I still have a LOT to learn before I can be a confident intern. A lot lot lot to learn. But, in a mere four weeks, I've seen enough in myself to know that I'll be able to do it when the time comes. Even better than all that, though, is the fact that I did not dread coming into the hospital even once this whole month. Unlike all my other rotations where I would cling desperately to those last minutes of sleep wishing that I would wake up to discover that it was actually a day off. I wasn't all gung-ho, get to the hospital at 5 am or anything. But I actually looked forward to certain aspects of it all.
What a relief. There is nothing worse than questioning why I am here. I mean, I question it every day ("I really want to be a doctor? Seriously? Why?!? ") but every day, I get a little more foundation and a little more evidence that this is a good thing.
Plus, I can always retire early and become the film critic I know I was born to be!
I am happy to report that this rotation has probably been my best ever as a student. I still have a LOT to learn before I can be a confident intern. A lot lot lot to learn. But, in a mere four weeks, I've seen enough in myself to know that I'll be able to do it when the time comes. Even better than all that, though, is the fact that I did not dread coming into the hospital even once this whole month. Unlike all my other rotations where I would cling desperately to those last minutes of sleep wishing that I would wake up to discover that it was actually a day off. I wasn't all gung-ho, get to the hospital at 5 am or anything. But I actually looked forward to certain aspects of it all.
What a relief. There is nothing worse than questioning why I am here. I mean, I question it every day ("I really want to be a doctor? Seriously? Why?!? ") but every day, I get a little more foundation and a little more evidence that this is a good thing.
Plus, I can always retire early and become the film critic I know I was born to be!
Jun 13, 2005
Very Disturbing
Okay, like any good 20's-something female (27 now, post-birthday!), I am expert at 'googling' people. Being extra-savvy, I also google myself occasionally, just to see what sort of info people are getting on me. Up to this point, it has mostly been college stuff - with a couple of pretty bad college group pictures that are fun to look at and laugh. But TODAY, when I googled my pretty little self, I find the last entry on the page is a link to SEXY PORN PICRURES
The last time I checked, I was not in any sexy porn pictures. That photo of me from analytical chem lab is anything but sexy. (Unless you're really into goggles, I guess...eew.)
Also disturbing and just plain odd is the entry before the sexy porn pics: it is a link to people with my surname. Included on the list is someone named 'Vagina.' Vagina?!? Hi, nice to meet you, my name is Vagina, but people call me Vag... I guarantee that child didn't find any of those pre-printed pens/keychains etc. with their name on it.
If you are looking for other things to do with Google there are a few fun things. I suppose they are better than e-stalking, too...you never know when you'll end up in porn photos...
The last time I checked, I was not in any sexy porn pictures. That photo of me from analytical chem lab is anything but sexy. (Unless you're really into goggles, I guess...eew.)
Also disturbing and just plain odd is the entry before the sexy porn pics: it is a link to people with my surname. Included on the list is someone named 'Vagina.' Vagina?!? Hi, nice to meet you, my name is Vagina, but people call me Vag... I guarantee that child didn't find any of those pre-printed pens/keychains etc. with their name on it.
If you are looking for other things to do with Google there are a few fun things. I suppose they are better than e-stalking, too...you never know when you'll end up in porn photos...
Jun 12, 2005
Sweat Stain Sunday
I'm on call again... In just over a year, it will really be no big deal when I'm on call. I'll be more likely to be saying 'not on call today.' Which, when I think about it, isn't ANY more exciting to the general populace than me informing them (you) that I am on call. Why did you just read that sentence? Have you no sense? Really, people.
There are all these weirdly sick kids in today. Like the kid whose bicarb is 5 and is just in their room chillin' like a villain. If your bicarb was 5, you'd probably be in the ICU. Odd, huh? One kid herniated their brain last night, so that one is in the ICU. Another kid is this close to possibly going into acute renal failure on top of the dilantin hypersensitivity that is already wreaking havoc on their liver.
Still, with all of this, I find myself yawning and going "Hmm. What a sweat stain of a day." Then I laugh, because I still think that I'm just the funniest thing since sliced bread. But then I remember that sliced bread really isn't all that funny, and in fact, can be quite tragic if the person doing the slicing is a klutz and cuts off a finger or something. Then I start crying because it is sad when people lose fingers. Unless they do it to themselves to get out of going to war by shooting off their trigger finger, which is a stupid thing to do to a perfectly good finger. Those shot-off-finger people must have a hard time doing things like dialing the phone or using a pincer grasp, which would probably get pretty sweat stainy after a while. Ha! Sweat stain... I am funny.
Good grief. I'm tired. Please disregard this entire post.
There are all these weirdly sick kids in today. Like the kid whose bicarb is 5 and is just in their room chillin' like a villain. If your bicarb was 5, you'd probably be in the ICU. Odd, huh? One kid herniated their brain last night, so that one is in the ICU. Another kid is this close to possibly going into acute renal failure on top of the dilantin hypersensitivity that is already wreaking havoc on their liver.
Still, with all of this, I find myself yawning and going "Hmm. What a sweat stain of a day." Then I laugh, because I still think that I'm just the funniest thing since sliced bread. But then I remember that sliced bread really isn't all that funny, and in fact, can be quite tragic if the person doing the slicing is a klutz and cuts off a finger or something. Then I start crying because it is sad when people lose fingers. Unless they do it to themselves to get out of going to war by shooting off their trigger finger, which is a stupid thing to do to a perfectly good finger. Those shot-off-finger people must have a hard time doing things like dialing the phone or using a pincer grasp, which would probably get pretty sweat stainy after a while. Ha! Sweat stain... I am funny.
Good grief. I'm tired. Please disregard this entire post.
Jun 8, 2005
New Slang
Okay, it is only the middle of my call, and I've already 'personally' (I use the quotes because I am, after all, still a student and still need an actual resident to follow behind me) accepted three patients. That is because we as a team have admitted nine patients. It isn't even midnight, people. STAY HOME!!!
I am taking a quick breather before the next two cases get here (a sickle cell kid and a child abuse case are on there way as I type) and I remembered the BURST of INSPIRATION I had the other day on my walk home.
I have come up with a new slang term. One that is SURE to SWEEP the nation with its brilliantosity. Ready? Okay, instead of saying that someone, or something is boring, we will now refer to that occasion/person as a "sweat stain." Get it? (Probably not, I was kind of tired that day.) No - listen! It is because sweat is body odor - B.O., right? And it makes a ring on people's shirts? Get it? B.O.-ring?
Ack! There goes the pager...
Spread the word people. Call is SUCH a sweat stain.
I am taking a quick breather before the next two cases get here (a sickle cell kid and a child abuse case are on there way as I type) and I remembered the BURST of INSPIRATION I had the other day on my walk home.
I have come up with a new slang term. One that is SURE to SWEEP the nation with its brilliantosity. Ready? Okay, instead of saying that someone, or something is boring, we will now refer to that occasion/person as a "sweat stain." Get it? (Probably not, I was kind of tired that day.) No - listen! It is because sweat is body odor - B.O., right? And it makes a ring on people's shirts? Get it? B.O.-ring?
Ack! There goes the pager...
Spread the word people. Call is SUCH a sweat stain.
Jun 6, 2005
TV for Geeks
Ahhh... it is summertime. Time for the beach babes and surfer dudes to head out to perfect their tans. And times for geeks like me to retreat to the air-conditioned indoors because the sun hurts my eyes and the summer air frizzes my hair. (Plus the 50+ hours a week I'm spending at work not lending themselves to daylight)
This is the time of year when I really get some good for-fun reading done. I do like the sunshine, I just prefer to be sitting in it indoors with a fan and a Diet Pepsi most of the time.
I also get more reading done, though, because there is nothing on television! Television is really the bane of my existence, and I wish I didn't watch it at all, but that is totally and completely beside the point.
Point being that there are two new shows that appeal to my total geek-ness. It is fantastic! Though I fear it will interfere with my summer reading...
The first: Beauty and the Geek. I fully acknowledge that this is a show executive produced by Ashton Kutcher, of all people AND that it is a show that plays horribly to outdated stereotypes of the dumb bombshell and too-geeky-to-function guy... But it is just so funny! These guys are like... well, like me, really. Pasty white skin and all. Granted I have a tad more social skills than they do, but I still understand them. Them's my people.
The second show: The Scholar which I fully acknowledge is being at least partially funded by Wal-Mart (whose book section is abysmal and whose actual motivation towards 'education' I seriously doubt) But, again, these is my people. These are high schoolers competing neck-and-neck in competitions that are made to make you feel smart! Like the three switches-three light bulbs problem. There are three switches (1, 2, 3) that turn on three lights (A, B, C) on the other side of a wall. With only one trip to the other side, how can you determine which switch controls which light. Think about it... Feel that warm little lightbulb of discovery pop above your head yet? This show is great, because it takes me back to high school, and I'm actually all like "IN YOUR FACE KID!" when I know the answer to a literature question that they don't. Of course, I am 26, but still... I knew Call of the Wild as a high school grad, too!
My geeky heart is all atwitter with the television shows that have been granted to me this summer. Sigh... I'll have to put off reading the rest of the Douglas Adams series for a few weeks...
This is the time of year when I really get some good for-fun reading done. I do like the sunshine, I just prefer to be sitting in it indoors with a fan and a Diet Pepsi most of the time.
I also get more reading done, though, because there is nothing on television! Television is really the bane of my existence, and I wish I didn't watch it at all, but that is totally and completely beside the point.
Point being that there are two new shows that appeal to my total geek-ness. It is fantastic! Though I fear it will interfere with my summer reading...
The first: Beauty and the Geek. I fully acknowledge that this is a show executive produced by Ashton Kutcher, of all people AND that it is a show that plays horribly to outdated stereotypes of the dumb bombshell and too-geeky-to-function guy... But it is just so funny! These guys are like... well, like me, really. Pasty white skin and all. Granted I have a tad more social skills than they do, but I still understand them. Them's my people.
The second show: The Scholar which I fully acknowledge is being at least partially funded by Wal-Mart (whose book section is abysmal and whose actual motivation towards 'education' I seriously doubt) But, again, these is my people. These are high schoolers competing neck-and-neck in competitions that are made to make you feel smart! Like the three switches-three light bulbs problem. There are three switches (1, 2, 3) that turn on three lights (A, B, C) on the other side of a wall. With only one trip to the other side, how can you determine which switch controls which light. Think about it... Feel that warm little lightbulb of discovery pop above your head yet? This show is great, because it takes me back to high school, and I'm actually all like "IN YOUR FACE KID!" when I know the answer to a literature question that they don't. Of course, I am 26, but still... I knew Call of the Wild as a high school grad, too!
My geeky heart is all atwitter with the television shows that have been granted to me this summer. Sigh... I'll have to put off reading the rest of the Douglas Adams series for a few weeks...
Jun 5, 2005
Music Survey Thing-a-ma-bob
Amount of music on your computer?
After suffering two major computer crashes (before which I had a couple thousand songs), I don't trust my laptop to keep any music. I have probably about 20 somgs on there right now, consisting of the free songs that you can get from iTunes every week... I'd say I like about half of them, which means I have about 10 usable songs on my computer. Rock on!
Currently listening to?
The Tonys! I've been obsessed with the song Hide and Seek by Imogen Heap lately. Who, incidentally, is the lead singer of Frou Frou.
Five songs that mean a lot to you?
This is one of the most impossible questions to answer. Ever. In the history of questions.
1. Cecilia by Simon and Garfunkel. For reasons unbeknownst (good grief! how do you spell that?) to me, I ended up roaming the halls of an empty dorm with the rest of my res life staff a couple of days before the freshmen arrived during my junior year of college. It is just such a happy song, and makes me think of all the good times I had in college. Cheesy, no?
2. Beautiful Savior is a song that will always make me cry. The St. Olaf choir would sing it at the end of every performance they did. I wasn't actually in the choir, having a voice resembling... well, not someone who'd sing in a choir anyway. Christmas Fest every year ended with the whole gymnasium (because God forbid they actually get a performance hall at a school renowned for its music a performance hall) would just resonate with this song. So, look, it is another college song! I should have included Um Ya Ya on the list...but I won't...
3. Jem's They is a song that I could listen to all day on repeat. It just has an infectious rhythm and tune and the lyrics are somewhat political, which is cool. Everyone should have a little social rebellion in their songs, no? This is also a song that was introduced to my by a great friend at a time when I really needed good friends, so it, of course, reminds me of her.
4. The Origin of Love from Hedwig and the Angry Inch is remarkable if only for the fact that it puts Plato in rhyme, adds some music and is then sung by East German transvestite. The first time I saw Hedwig was in Alaska while I was there in AmeriCorps, so this is one of my Alaska songs.
5. Man, I'm on the last already? No fair. In deference to all the songs I've forgotten, I'll leave this one open. I could mention Moondance, Son of a Preacher Man, Happy Birthday, Daisy, Stop in the Name of Love, 5000 Miles, Edelweiss, Pines of Rome... plus more songs that all have memories attached to them. You expect me to choose one memory above the others? Impossible.
Top five albums?
Rarities, B Sides and Other Stuff by Sarah McLachlan.
Lost and Gone Forever by Guster.
Rent by the Cast of Rent.
House Carpenter's Daughter by Natalie Merchant.
One by the Beatles.
Of course, these are just the ones that come immediately to mind. I reserve the right to rescind and or replace any of these at any time.
Last album bought?
The OC mix, volume 2. Tee-hee! It is actually quite smashing and I heart it greatly.
Recent discoveries?
Imogen Heap, Finger Eleven... other stuff...
And the baton goes to:
Melissa Jo
and
My mother, who should get off her butt and start her own blog, already.
After suffering two major computer crashes (before which I had a couple thousand songs), I don't trust my laptop to keep any music. I have probably about 20 somgs on there right now, consisting of the free songs that you can get from iTunes every week... I'd say I like about half of them, which means I have about 10 usable songs on my computer. Rock on!
Currently listening to?
The Tonys! I've been obsessed with the song Hide and Seek by Imogen Heap lately. Who, incidentally, is the lead singer of Frou Frou.
Five songs that mean a lot to you?
This is one of the most impossible questions to answer. Ever. In the history of questions.
1. Cecilia by Simon and Garfunkel. For reasons unbeknownst (good grief! how do you spell that?) to me, I ended up roaming the halls of an empty dorm with the rest of my res life staff a couple of days before the freshmen arrived during my junior year of college. It is just such a happy song, and makes me think of all the good times I had in college. Cheesy, no?
2. Beautiful Savior is a song that will always make me cry. The St. Olaf choir would sing it at the end of every performance they did. I wasn't actually in the choir, having a voice resembling... well, not someone who'd sing in a choir anyway. Christmas Fest every year ended with the whole gymnasium (because God forbid they actually get a performance hall at a school renowned for its music a performance hall) would just resonate with this song. So, look, it is another college song! I should have included Um Ya Ya on the list...but I won't...
3. Jem's They is a song that I could listen to all day on repeat. It just has an infectious rhythm and tune and the lyrics are somewhat political, which is cool. Everyone should have a little social rebellion in their songs, no? This is also a song that was introduced to my by a great friend at a time when I really needed good friends, so it, of course, reminds me of her.
4. The Origin of Love from Hedwig and the Angry Inch is remarkable if only for the fact that it puts Plato in rhyme, adds some music and is then sung by East German transvestite. The first time I saw Hedwig was in Alaska while I was there in AmeriCorps, so this is one of my Alaska songs.
5. Man, I'm on the last already? No fair. In deference to all the songs I've forgotten, I'll leave this one open. I could mention Moondance, Son of a Preacher Man, Happy Birthday, Daisy, Stop in the Name of Love, 5000 Miles, Edelweiss, Pines of Rome... plus more songs that all have memories attached to them. You expect me to choose one memory above the others? Impossible.
Top five albums?
Rarities, B Sides and Other Stuff by Sarah McLachlan.
Lost and Gone Forever by Guster.
Rent by the Cast of Rent.
House Carpenter's Daughter by Natalie Merchant.
One by the Beatles.
Of course, these are just the ones that come immediately to mind. I reserve the right to rescind and or replace any of these at any time.
Last album bought?
The OC mix, volume 2. Tee-hee! It is actually quite smashing and I heart it greatly.
Recent discoveries?
Imogen Heap, Finger Eleven... other stuff...
And the baton goes to:
Melissa Jo
and
My mother, who should get off her butt and start her own blog, already.
Jun 3, 2005
Enjoy the Ride
I'm on call tonight. I'll probably watch this video at least twice more before the night is over. Ain't she just adorable? And I love her necklace...
The HORROR!
I tend to like certain scary movies. Not ones that are just all about gore and making you jump just because they can. Movies like The Shining, though, stick with me.
Which may explain why I got chills as I stood waiting for an elevator, and two little girls with brown hair and wearing identical dresses came up. I half expected to be drenched with blood when the elevator finally did come.
Then, on the elevator (the creepy girls didn't get on, thank goodness) was a barefoot, stringy haired, dentition-challenged (aka missing a few teeth) lady holding the hand of her barefoot, stringy haired little girl. She burst into tears and started going off how she couldn't find her children and something about her husband. I half expected to see a man with a shotgun taking aim at me when I finally got off the elevator.
Good grief. Maybe I watch too many movies... I'm just glad these things didn't happen at night!
Which may explain why I got chills as I stood waiting for an elevator, and two little girls with brown hair and wearing identical dresses came up. I half expected to be drenched with blood when the elevator finally did come.
Then, on the elevator (the creepy girls didn't get on, thank goodness) was a barefoot, stringy haired, dentition-challenged (aka missing a few teeth) lady holding the hand of her barefoot, stringy haired little girl. She burst into tears and started going off how she couldn't find her children and something about her husband. I half expected to see a man with a shotgun taking aim at me when I finally got off the elevator.
Good grief. Maybe I watch too many movies... I'm just glad these things didn't happen at night!
May 31, 2005
An Open Letter to Jo-Jo at Capital One
JO-JO, hon, I'm sorry to break this to you, but people at your work (that being Capital One) don't like you. You know?
You may wonder, dear double-Jo, how I, a stranger from North Carolina, (when you clearly reside in the Midwestern part of the country) should come by this information. The answer is simple: Capital One has apparently, in some new-fangled, reality-TV inspired move gotten rid of 'on hold phone Muzak' in favor of just putting the customers on speakerphone so they can hear the private conversations of employees.
Either that or someone pushed the wrong button.
As another note to you, Jo squared, Capital One used to be friendly and helpful, and they would call me when they saw I'd been charged twice for the same thing. Now, it is apparently MY responsibility, AND I get chastised for not calling the merchant myself (good luck getting anyone at Paramount's Carowinds to care), and THEN they put you on speakerphone for five minutes and let you listen to some angsty teenaged Midwestern chick complain about Jo-Jo and apologize to another angsty teenaged Midwestern guy for ignoring him all day. ("It wasn't my fault, you know? I was in my meeting, then at break and I wasn't up here, you know? So, I wasn't, really, like ignoring you, okay? I just didn't see you, you know?")
I'm sorry to crush your world, Jo-Jo. But you've been warned...
You may wonder, dear double-Jo, how I, a stranger from North Carolina, (when you clearly reside in the Midwestern part of the country) should come by this information. The answer is simple: Capital One has apparently, in some new-fangled, reality-TV inspired move gotten rid of 'on hold phone Muzak' in favor of just putting the customers on speakerphone so they can hear the private conversations of employees.
Either that or someone pushed the wrong button.
As another note to you, Jo squared, Capital One used to be friendly and helpful, and they would call me when they saw I'd been charged twice for the same thing. Now, it is apparently MY responsibility, AND I get chastised for not calling the merchant myself (good luck getting anyone at Paramount's Carowinds to care), and THEN they put you on speakerphone for five minutes and let you listen to some angsty teenaged Midwestern chick complain about Jo-Jo and apologize to another angsty teenaged Midwestern guy for ignoring him all day. ("It wasn't my fault, you know? I was in my meeting, then at break and I wasn't up here, you know? So, I wasn't, really, like ignoring you, okay? I just didn't see you, you know?")
I'm sorry to crush your world, Jo-Jo. But you've been warned...
May 27, 2005
Guess What I Just Did?
Ha! I finally took my emergency medicine test! And let me tell you this: I guarantee that there will be people in our class who cheat on this test. They give us two weeks to take it, on our own computers, anywhere in the hospital. Yeah, right, people won't cheat. Geez. I was tempted, and I haven't done that since second grade, when my friend Kelly had mis-spelled some words on her spelling test, and we were grading each other's and I fixed the mistakes for her so she could get 100% too. But then Kelly yelled at me for doing that (what a good seven year old, huh?!) and I have never been able to stomach the thought of cheating since.
I'm glad I'm done. It wasn't like I spent the whole week studying for the freaking thing. I just crammed for an hour before I took it.
Why am I making such a big deal out of this test? Let me tell you: this was the last - the LAST - test I have to take for school. Ever. Ever ever ever. ED is the only rotation of fourth year that comes with a test, and now I'm done with it! Granted, I do still have the boards to take, but that is for my career, not just some arbitrary little test to try to stratify us into 'good' and 'better' categories.
I don't think I've ever used as many italics in one post as I have today. Hmm.
Call last night went just dandy. I stuck around on the floor, did a couple of slightly doctor-ish things. ("Yes, go ahead and hold that Vanc until the blood is in," "He had a bowel movement? Great!") Then things got really quiet, and I went upstairs, watched John Stewart and went to sleep. I didn't sleep well, but I got a full seven hours in the bed... And then I got to be post-call and start the already long weekend early! Really makes me wish I was doing something more exciting than laundry.
Well, at least I don't have a test hanging over my head any more!!
I'm glad I'm done. It wasn't like I spent the whole week studying for the freaking thing. I just crammed for an hour before I took it.
Why am I making such a big deal out of this test? Let me tell you: this was the last - the LAST - test I have to take for school. Ever. Ever ever ever. ED is the only rotation of fourth year that comes with a test, and now I'm done with it! Granted, I do still have the boards to take, but that is for my career, not just some arbitrary little test to try to stratify us into 'good' and 'better' categories.
I don't think I've ever used as many italics in one post as I have today. Hmm.
Call last night went just dandy. I stuck around on the floor, did a couple of slightly doctor-ish things. ("Yes, go ahead and hold that Vanc until the blood is in," "He had a bowel movement? Great!") Then things got really quiet, and I went upstairs, watched John Stewart and went to sleep. I didn't sleep well, but I got a full seven hours in the bed... And then I got to be post-call and start the already long weekend early! Really makes me wish I was doing something more exciting than laundry.
Well, at least I don't have a test hanging over my head any more!!
May 26, 2005
Call On Me
Tonight is my first night on call as an "Acting Intern" That's AI for short. It is supposed to be a fourth year rotation where you act as an intern. Minus the ability to dictate, give orders or have any say in patient care. So, what it really boils down to is that I'm like a third year, but I don't have to go to lectures. And I'm not on the bottom of the totem pole for pimping - the third year has to field the questions before they get thrown to me.
Actually, it isn't quite as bad as I make it out. Everything in peds is micro-managed from the top down (as well as sideways - nurses are ever vigilant for mistakes... as are pharmacists and unit secretaries). I am given a little more freedom and responsibility as an AI. Not a lot, but some.
I am currently doing my AI in Pediatric Hematology/Oncology. We've got twelve patients in right now - some for routine chemo, some with more complicated problems. I am the only one from my team on call tonight. There are two general peds residents on, and it is generally their duty to cover the hem/onc patients overnight (unless a hem/onc AI is on). Here's my dilemma, though: If there is a problem with one of the patients, I want the nurses to call me! I'm the acting INTERN after all, I should be the first to be called. Problem is, when I went out and said "Hi, I'm Brenna, the AI on tonight, here is my pager number in case you have any problems" they all stared blankly at me and continued reading their magazines or gossiping. So I don't think they're going to call me... Which is in some ways good because I can't do anything anyway.
It could be a long night.
Actually, it isn't quite as bad as I make it out. Everything in peds is micro-managed from the top down (as well as sideways - nurses are ever vigilant for mistakes... as are pharmacists and unit secretaries). I am given a little more freedom and responsibility as an AI. Not a lot, but some.
I am currently doing my AI in Pediatric Hematology/Oncology. We've got twelve patients in right now - some for routine chemo, some with more complicated problems. I am the only one from my team on call tonight. There are two general peds residents on, and it is generally their duty to cover the hem/onc patients overnight (unless a hem/onc AI is on). Here's my dilemma, though: If there is a problem with one of the patients, I want the nurses to call me! I'm the acting INTERN after all, I should be the first to be called. Problem is, when I went out and said "Hi, I'm Brenna, the AI on tonight, here is my pager number in case you have any problems" they all stared blankly at me and continued reading their magazines or gossiping. So I don't think they're going to call me... Which is in some ways good because I can't do anything anyway.
It could be a long night.
May 24, 2005
Cardiac Risk Factors
::Warning! Warning!!:: HIPPA Violation coming! Beware!
So, not being a very patient patient, I went ahead and looked up the results of my lipid profile. We're technically not supposed to. Which makes no sense, in my opinion. They ARE my results, after all. Why should I have to call someone to tell me what I can just find myself. I don't want to waste my cell phone minutes, after all.
I'm sure you are all dying to know what they are, right? Well, I know at least you are, Mom. Here you go:
Here's the problem, though... I am not quite certain what they mean. If I saw these numbers in a patient that I was seeing, I'd be like - "Hey! That's great!" But we don't tend to see lipid profiles in 26 year olds terribly often. Is 174 too high for me? Hmm. Oh, well. It looks good now, and that's all I care about! If I get it checked every year or so, I'll know, right? Of course, that would require going to the doc every year...
So, not being a very patient patient, I went ahead and looked up the results of my lipid profile. We're technically not supposed to. Which makes no sense, in my opinion. They ARE my results, after all. Why should I have to call someone to tell me what I can just find myself. I don't want to waste my cell phone minutes, after all.
I'm sure you are all dying to know what they are, right? Well, I know at least you are, Mom. Here you go:
CHOLESTEROL (LL) 174 (normal: 0-200)
TRIGLYCERIDE (LL) 109 (normal: 0-140)
HDL-CHOLESTEROL 56 (normal: 30-90)
LDL-CHOLESTEROL 96 (normal: 0-130)
CHOL/HDL 3.1 L (normal: 3.4-5.0)
VLDL-CALCULATE 22 (normal: 5-40)
Here's the problem, though... I am not quite certain what they mean. If I saw these numbers in a patient that I was seeing, I'd be like - "Hey! That's great!" But we don't tend to see lipid profiles in 26 year olds terribly often. Is 174 too high for me? Hmm. Oh, well. It looks good now, and that's all I care about! If I get it checked every year or so, I'll know, right? Of course, that would require going to the doc every year...
May 20, 2005
Man, is That One Ugly Head
Somehow, I thought that with age, with education and with patience, I would come to a point in my life where I would procrastinate less. Uh-uh. Ain't happenin'.
I am all done with my Emergency Medicine rotation (and all the people go: yay!) except for the test, which I can take any time between a few days ago and a week from now. In an ideal world, I'd take it today, and be done with it, right?
Unfortunately, I woke up this morning, and there was Mr. Procrastination, rearing his u-g-l-y head again (he ain't got no alibi!). See, I haven't really studied as much as I'd like. And I kind of have a headache. And I'm dizzy. And I have to meet with my fellow yearbook managers today (oh - by the way, I'm co-managing the yearbook for next year). And... I just got Empire of the Sun from Netflix, and Christian Bale is so cute, even as a little boychild, AND I had to watch The OC, which I recorded last night, and I've decided that it is time to read the Harry Potter series again in preparation for July 16th, and I'm almost done with a blanket I've been crocheting, I just need to figure out the border and... I just don't wanna take it.
So... hopefully I'll get my butt in gear by Sunday. I don't want to start my next rotation with this looming over me. Honestly, I don't know why I would even bother studying much more. I'm not an honors student (as I've proven time and time again), and the margin for 'pass' is pretty big. I don't think a few more hours is going to do me much good. Hmm. Maybe I will take it today...
I am all done with my Emergency Medicine rotation (and all the people go: yay!) except for the test, which I can take any time between a few days ago and a week from now. In an ideal world, I'd take it today, and be done with it, right?
Unfortunately, I woke up this morning, and there was Mr. Procrastination, rearing his u-g-l-y head again (he ain't got no alibi!). See, I haven't really studied as much as I'd like. And I kind of have a headache. And I'm dizzy. And I have to meet with my fellow yearbook managers today (oh - by the way, I'm co-managing the yearbook for next year). And... I just got Empire of the Sun from Netflix, and Christian Bale is so cute, even as a little boychild, AND I had to watch The OC, which I recorded last night, and I've decided that it is time to read the Harry Potter series again in preparation for July 16th, and I'm almost done with a blanket I've been crocheting, I just need to figure out the border and... I just don't wanna take it.
So... hopefully I'll get my butt in gear by Sunday. I don't want to start my next rotation with this looming over me. Honestly, I don't know why I would even bother studying much more. I'm not an honors student (as I've proven time and time again), and the margin for 'pass' is pretty big. I don't think a few more hours is going to do me much good. Hmm. Maybe I will take it today...
May 19, 2005
Heal Thyself
As a medical student, I would be hard pressed to call myself a 'normal' twentysomething sort of person. These so-called 'normal' people in their twenties, as far as I can tell, are in the midst of trying to figure everything out. I can hold myself as an expert here since I have spent two whole years out of school... (that's self-directed sarcasm, for those of you who have a hard time with subtext) I think those of us in medical school are forced to deal with the whole free-floating anxiety, God-what-am-I-supposed-to-do-with-my-life-I-feel-like-I'm-play-acting-and-I-forgot-my-lines situations (see Dave Eggers, Chuck Palahniuk, Garden State to name a few) either a)early or b)late (leading to divorce, substance abuse, etc. in our middle ages) There ain't no way we're going to get very far if we admit, "Well, I'm not really sure what I want to do, but I always thought that being a doctor would be pretty cool. So I thought I'd give it a shot." To have the ability to tell other people what is wrong with them, and how you are going to help them, takes a lot of assuredness - both at work and in your mind.
Not sure how I got off on that tangent. The point of the matter is, that there IS one way in which I'm like a typical twentysomething: I avoid going to the doctor like the plague. Ironic, no?
I went today, though. And I'm very proud of myself! I'm not even sick! I just went for a check-up. I want to know what my cholesterol is... I'll keep everyone posted, as I'm sure you're just dying to know.
I must say - even though I'm fairly familiar with the whole doctor's office situation now, I was nervous! It makes me feel more empathy towards the people coming in that have NO clue what to expect. For me, going through my history was just like presenting any other patient, albeit a little more personal.
Tonight is my last shift in the ED. Yee-haw! First, I have to finish putting together a presentation on Ludwig's Angina. Factoid: "Angina" comes from the Greek "anchone" which means "strangulation." Nothing to do with chest pain.
Not sure how I got off on that tangent. The point of the matter is, that there IS one way in which I'm like a typical twentysomething: I avoid going to the doctor like the plague. Ironic, no?
I went today, though. And I'm very proud of myself! I'm not even sick! I just went for a check-up. I want to know what my cholesterol is... I'll keep everyone posted, as I'm sure you're just dying to know.
I must say - even though I'm fairly familiar with the whole doctor's office situation now, I was nervous! It makes me feel more empathy towards the people coming in that have NO clue what to expect. For me, going through my history was just like presenting any other patient, albeit a little more personal.
Tonight is my last shift in the ED. Yee-haw! First, I have to finish putting together a presentation on Ludwig's Angina. Factoid: "Angina" comes from the Greek "anchone" which means "strangulation." Nothing to do with chest pain.
May 18, 2005
Aitch
Today was "Sim Lab" day for the students rotation in Emergency Medicine (i.e. Me) How the emergency room functioned without fourth year med students, I don't know (that is sarcasm, by the way)
I was quite tired most of the day (I blame it on the latest book I've been obsessed with which kept me up until 2am last night). In the middle of our review on causes of PEA - that's pulseless electrical activity, not small green beans - I became inexplicably concerned with how one would spell the letter "H." I know, I know. It makes no sense. WHY do I care how you spell "H?" I don't know.
Now, to something much more exciting: I have only one shift left in the ED. ONE. So very excited. AND, it is in the Peds ED, which means I don't have to talk to any more drug seekers... ever, really. Unless I come across some very precocious children in the future. Or evil parents. Grrr...
The other night in the Peds ED, which was, incidentally the unofficial "Hurt Your Brother and Send Him to the Emergency Room" night, I felt more competent than I have in a long time. This kid came in with a knee laceration (inflicted while his brother dragged him around on a blanket). The attending told me to go ahead and stitch it up. And I did. Alone. NO supervision. And I was good! I didn't fumble around or drop anything. I just... did it. Granted, it was a knee lac, not like a chest tube or anything, but still... It is always good to know that you can talk a young kid through something like that and not freak out the mother by looking like a total clown.
Mmm. I'm hungry. With a capital Aitch.
I was quite tired most of the day (I blame it on the latest book I've been obsessed with which kept me up until 2am last night). In the middle of our review on causes of PEA - that's pulseless electrical activity, not small green beans - I became inexplicably concerned with how one would spell the letter "H." I know, I know. It makes no sense. WHY do I care how you spell "H?"
Now, to something much more exciting: I have only one shift left in the ED. ONE. So very excited. AND, it is in the Peds ED, which means I don't have to talk to any more drug seekers... ever, really. Unless I come across some very precocious children in the future. Or evil parents. Grrr...
The other night in the Peds ED, which was, incidentally the unofficial "Hurt Your Brother and Send Him to the Emergency Room" night, I felt more competent than I have in a long time. This kid came in with a knee laceration (inflicted while his brother dragged him around on a blanket). The attending told me to go ahead and stitch it up. And I did. Alone. NO supervision. And I was good! I didn't fumble around or drop anything. I just... did it. Granted, it was a knee lac, not like a chest tube or anything, but still... It is always good to know that you can talk a young kid through something like that and not freak out the mother by looking like a total clown.
Mmm. I'm hungry. With a capital Aitch.
May 16, 2005
This picture is the best answer I can give when someone asks the question "How did you end up all the way in NC from Oregon?" I should carry it around with me to point out the injustice of it all. This is actually a schematic of residencies, not med schools. It is also a scary blow to a girl (namely me) who desperately wants to 'Go West, Young Man'
May 15, 2005
Some Stories, Not My Own
Grandma Trauma on Graduation Day
This morning, I picked up a "Nose Lac" patient (lac = chance to suture). It was an older woman, and I expected a nursing home patients, of which we see quite a few. Generally the demented/unstable on their feet/not agile with a cane patients that we patch up and send on their merry little way (have I mentioned that I want to be crazy when I'm old?).
Anyway (obviously I don't have what it takes to be a true reporter - get the story all within the first five sentences? Yeah, right), this older lady was very spry - seemed much, much younger than I expected. She'd been at church, had tripped and face-planted a brick column. I was about halfway through my work-up when she asked me if I knew one of the fourth year students. Turns out, she was (is, actually) his grandmother. And today was graduation day! She was in town specifically to see her little baby become a doctor (they're doctors now! SCARY) I promised her we'd get her through as quickly as possible.
Being at the biggest hospital in the area, we get a lot of patients. We also get relatives of attendings as patients - especially kids. They get the royal treatment, usually. They basically just walk right into a room - no waiting - and get everything done very quickly and nicely. It makes sense - they're attendings. They've put in a lot of hard work, and are generally well respected (or feared). I've also seen residents and nurses (especially nurses) get golden glove care. I didn't really know what to expect for relatives of med students... Turns out, they're just as special! Or, at least they are on graduation day. The ENT doc actually came right in when we called him. (Usually it takes...hours)
The point of that whole rambling was that I was happy to see that we med students get some benefit of our time in the trenches. Or, at least our grandmothers do.
Psych Patient Takes Pills, Calls Student
This morning, when I first got to work, I heard a psych resident telling an attending about a suicide attempt patient she had just talked to.
This perked up my ears, because we have a [name] in our class, and it isn't the most common of [name]s.
[Name]'s good friend was on the day shift with me today, so I told him about it, and he called [name] to find out. (Okay, so it wasn't a hard mystery to solve... I never claimed to be Encyclopedia Brown. Or Harriet the Spy. Or Nancy Drew....)
Apparently, [name] got a call at 3:30 in the morning:
[Name] got their fiance to call the police, and in an hour long process, the police managed to track Crazy Patient down and brought them into the ED.
Good. God. Can you believe that? Right there is why you should not be nice to crazy people. Especially if you have a name tag on! Crazy Patient looked [name]'s name up in the phone book.
I was not nice to the crazy people. I scowled a lot and sometimes glared. I do not expect to be getting any middle of the night calls.
Student Gets Engaged, E-mails Friends
That's really all there is to that story, but I felt like I should have three stories. It is a nice, complete-feeling number, you know?
Five days left of my ED rotation. Thank goodness.
This morning, I picked up a "Nose Lac" patient (lac = chance to suture). It was an older woman, and I expected a nursing home patients, of which we see quite a few. Generally the demented/unstable on their feet/not agile with a cane patients that we patch up and send on their merry little way (have I mentioned that I want to be crazy when I'm old?).
Anyway (obviously I don't have what it takes to be a true reporter - get the story all within the first five sentences? Yeah, right), this older lady was very spry - seemed much, much younger than I expected. She'd been at church, had tripped and face-planted a brick column. I was about halfway through my work-up when she asked me if I knew one of the fourth year students. Turns out, she was (is, actually) his grandmother. And today was graduation day! She was in town specifically to see her little baby become a doctor (they're doctors now! SCARY) I promised her we'd get her through as quickly as possible.
Being at the biggest hospital in the area, we get a lot of patients. We also get relatives of attendings as patients - especially kids. They get the royal treatment, usually. They basically just walk right into a room - no waiting - and get everything done very quickly and nicely. It makes sense - they're attendings. They've put in a lot of hard work, and are generally well respected (or feared). I've also seen residents and nurses (especially nurses) get golden glove care. I didn't really know what to expect for relatives of med students... Turns out, they're just as special! Or, at least they are on graduation day. The ENT doc actually came right in when we called him. (Usually it takes...hours)
The point of that whole rambling was that I was happy to see that we med students get some benefit of our time in the trenches. Or, at least our grandmothers do.
Psych Patient Takes Pills, Calls Student
This morning, when I first got to work, I heard a psych resident telling an attending about a suicide attempt patient she had just talked to.
Psych Resident: She kept saying that [name] didn't care because he wasn't here.
This perked up my ears, because we have a [name] in our class, and it isn't the most common of [name]s.
Psych Resident: She said that [name] worked here, but the only one I know of was a medical student that rotated through psych.
Brenna (to herself): Hmmm. Maybe it IS [name]. Fantastic! Mystery time.
[Name]'s good friend was on the day shift with me today, so I told him about it, and he called [name] to find out. (Okay, so it wasn't a hard mystery to solve... I never claimed to be Encyclopedia Brown. Or Harriet the Spy. Or Nancy Drew....)
Apparently, [name] got a call at 3:30 in the morning:
Crazy Patient: [Name], it's me. I'm going to kill myself.
[Name]: {dumbfounded silence}
[Name] got their fiance to call the police, and in an hour long process, the police managed to track Crazy Patient down and brought them into the ED.
Good. God. Can you believe that? Right there is why you should not be nice to crazy people. Especially if you have a name tag on! Crazy Patient looked [name]'s name up in the phone book.
I was not nice to the crazy people. I scowled a lot and sometimes glared. I do not expect to be getting any middle of the night calls.
Student Gets Engaged, E-mails Friends
That's really all there is to that story, but I felt like I should have three stories. It is a nice, complete-feeling number, you know?
Five days left of my ED rotation. Thank goodness.
May 14, 2005
State of Mind
Saturday morning in the ED is slow. There are only 8 or so patients. I have nothing to say, but I had wanted to blog while in the ED. Just to say that I had. So here I go! Blog blog blog blog.
Ahhh... Satisfaction. (A state of mind, or a Justine Bateman movie?)
I'm going to go read the required article on Dog, Cat and Human bites. For some odd reason, it makes me think of Susan. Why, oh, why could that be?
Ahhh... Satisfaction. (A state of mind, or a Justine Bateman movie?)
I'm going to go read the required article on Dog, Cat and Human bites. For some odd reason, it makes me think of Susan. Why, oh, why could that be?
May 10, 2005
To Forgive, Divine...
It appears that after all my venting about the ED over the weekend (to anyone and literally everyone who would listen), I don't hate it so bad! Maybe it was an abscess in my mind that I needed to drain... The attendings that are on for the night make a BIG difference. Big. Huge. (I have to go shopping...)
Tonight, in one shift, I tripled the number of rectal exams I've done, managed to not laugh hysterically when one of those patients started yelling "Mama! That lady had her hand in my BUTT!" (this was a full grown woman, not a child), saw the coolest dislocated ankle fracture EVER (the attending whipped out his camera for it) AND I got to do a central line!!!
It was like the heavens opened up and smiled down upon me. Perhaps my cosmic reward for crossing the rectal exam hurdle (it would appear I'm fixating on the rectal exam... Freud would have a field day)
Many a time have I watched a resident place a central line, after which they say some variation of "You should do the next one." Of course, I am never with the same resident twice, so all year, I just kept waiting and waiting. I know the landmarks. I know the technique. I know how to flush the ports, and that we need to get the fancy blue caps. And today I got to do it! So excited was I. AND I got the vein (an IJ) on my first stick. Like butter baby. Awe. Some.
Still not going to go into Emergency Medicine as a field, but at least I'm not getting hives before each shift any more...
Tonight, in one shift, I tripled the number of rectal exams I've done, managed to not laugh hysterically when one of those patients started yelling "Mama! That lady had her hand in my BUTT!" (this was a full grown woman, not a child), saw the coolest dislocated ankle fracture EVER (the attending whipped out his camera for it) AND I got to do a central line!!!
It was like the heavens opened up and smiled down upon me. Perhaps my cosmic reward for crossing the rectal exam hurdle (it would appear I'm fixating on the rectal exam... Freud would have a field day)
Many a time have I watched a resident place a central line, after which they say some variation of "You should do the next one." Of course, I am never with the same resident twice, so all year, I just kept waiting and waiting. I know the landmarks. I know the technique. I know how to flush the ports, and that we need to get the fancy blue caps. And today I got to do it! So excited was I. AND I got the vein (an IJ) on my first stick. Like butter baby. Awe. Some.
Still not going to go into Emergency Medicine as a field, but at least I'm not getting hives before each shift any more...
May 9, 2005
You're Going to Feel a Little Pressure in Your Bottom
It's time for me to admit something. It is something that I've kept secret for... well, about a year now. I didn't tell because I was embarassed...ashamed...and secretly quite happy about it. Ready? Until about 2:00 this afternoon, I had never performed a rectal exam.
Anyway. I've done one now. That's a relief...
For those of you who have seen me in person in the last few weeks and know how much I despise the Emergency Room (this coming from a girl who has at least kind of liked everything up to this point), I must say: it is MUCH more exciting when there are at least two demented patients, each trying to out-scream the other. (Pt 1: Ahhhh! Pt 2: AHHHHhhh! Pt 1: Uhh-AHHHHHH!) Throw in a third who won't stay in her bed (Pt 3: Hell, hell, hell-hell), and Brenna may just change her tune.
Except that I got some man's nasty trauma blood on my white coat.
Hmm. At least it wasn't nasty fecal matter.
Anyway. I've done one now. That's a relief...
For those of you who have seen me in person in the last few weeks and know how much I despise the Emergency Room (this coming from a girl who has at least kind of liked everything up to this point), I must say: it is MUCH more exciting when there are at least two demented patients, each trying to out-scream the other. (Pt 1: Ahhhh! Pt 2: AHHHHhhh! Pt 1: Uhh-AHHHHHH!) Throw in a third who won't stay in her bed (Pt 3: Hell, hell, hell-hell), and Brenna may just change her tune.
Except that I got some man's nasty trauma blood on my white coat.
Hmm. At least it wasn't nasty fecal matter.
May 3, 2005
Keep on Swinging...
This week, I'm all about working the swing shift in the ED. That's 'evening' shift to those less into the vernacular. (Heh. Vernacular.)
Last night was my first shift over in the adult ED. I felt totally hopeless. And just when I was starting to feel less than a complete and total idiot (as I usually do during my first day anywhere), the surgeons descended en masse into the ED and started raising a ruckus. It was really quite awful. There were only a couple surgery residents down there (around 10 pm), but my goodness were they rude. Another reason not to go into surgery. A third year surgery resident actually chewed out the ED attending for letting a trauma come to this ED. Uh-uh. Residents don't DO that to attendings. That would be like me telling the resident what to do.
I had to talk to one of the other nasty residents about a burn that had come in. All I did was ask him to go see the patient (his own attending was the one that had okayed the patient's transfer to us) and he about went ballistic.
Ugh. Let's just say that I had a bad taste in my mouth when I left work last night. I'm hoping that tonight will be better...
I did get to help shove a scope up some guy's nose because he'd tried to use a garden hose as a siphon and ended up sucking something into his throat... Another chapter in "Things Not to Stick in Your Mouth."
Last night was my first shift over in the adult ED. I felt totally hopeless. And just when I was starting to feel less than a complete and total idiot (as I usually do during my first day anywhere), the surgeons descended en masse into the ED and started raising a ruckus. It was really quite awful. There were only a couple surgery residents down there (around 10 pm), but my goodness were they rude. Another reason not to go into surgery. A third year surgery resident actually chewed out the ED attending for letting a trauma come to this ED. Uh-uh. Residents don't DO that to attendings. That would be like me telling the resident what to do.
I had to talk to one of the other nasty residents about a burn that had come in. All I did was ask him to go see the patient (his own attending was the one that had okayed the patient's transfer to us) and he about went ballistic.
Ugh. Let's just say that I had a bad taste in my mouth when I left work last night. I'm hoping that tonight will be better...
I did get to help shove a scope up some guy's nose because he'd tried to use a garden hose as a siphon and ended up sucking something into his throat... Another chapter in "Things Not to Stick in Your Mouth."
Apr 25, 2005
Faster, FASTER!!!
Today was DAY ONE of Fourth year. Can you feel the excitement in the air? Can you taste it? (forgive the mixed metaphors) It tastes like... chocolate. With cinnamon. And peanut butter... Mmm...doesn't a chocolate-peanut butter and cinnamon sandwich sound good?
My First Rotation as a Fourth Year is Emergency Medicine. I chose to do this rotation first because 1)It is the only rotation that has a test at the end, thus making it more appealing to get it out of the way early and 2)It is a rotation that you only do during fourth year, thus ensuring that I actually feel like a fourth year (instead of a confused third year, which is essentially what I really am)
Part of the ED rotation is the EMS Ride Along. Which I did today!! When I got there, I tried to remember what I'd heard other people in our class say about the EMS-RA day. Then I remembered: No one else from my class has done it!!! I was first! I got quite a thrill when I realized that. I am used to being last (or second-to-last) at everything, since most things are arranged alphabetically. But now, I have knowledge that NO ONE else in my class does. (Except for the former EMTs and people who have done ride-alongs before...but they don't count)
Here's how the day went:
1:00: Brenna arrives at the County EMS. Parks in one spot, gets out of car. Stands and looks at big scary garage, filled with ambulances (ambulanci?). Gets back in car, and follows signs to "EMS Administration Offices" Gets directed (through an indoor stairwell) down to the same scary garage area. Signs liability type waiver.
1:05-1:45: Brenna sits in Lounge, watching some violent movie (which she later - aka right now - finds out to be The 51st State) in which a large number of words were bleeped out.
1:45-3:00: Brenna jumps up and follows the team from Unit 29 when they get called to the aid of a woman with Chest Pain. I must admit, up to this point, I was pretty bored, and sleepy, and trying to figure out when I could gracefully make my escape. Then, we got in the ambulance, and they turned on the lights and sirens and we were OFF! We got to go so fast! It was the coolest thing EVER. Zipping past all these cars, blatantly running red lights. It was supremely cool. The getting the patient part and going to the hospital was also okay, but not as cool as the SPEED.
I stuck around for two and a half more calls (one was to a traffic accident, where they didn't end up needing any assistance - everyone was okay). At one point, we were going 85 miles an hour on Peter's Creek - a road where the speed limit is 45. SO COOL.
I actually would have stayed longer, except 1)I was starving, 2)I wanted to work out this evening, and 3)We were told to leave before dark - "There are bad parts of Winston-Salem, and I don't want you guys going there" said the attending, and I must heed those words of warning - I did see the kinds of trauma that would come in at night... like the man who'd been stabbed 20 times by 'some guy' that just broke into his house. (Turned out 'some guy' happened to be the other boyfriend of the stabbed man's girlfriend...)
Tomorrow is a random, big test day, so no Emergency stuff. Bummer... I want more fast rides!
My First Rotation as a Fourth Year is Emergency Medicine. I chose to do this rotation first because 1)It is the only rotation that has a test at the end, thus making it more appealing to get it out of the way early and 2)It is a rotation that you only do during fourth year, thus ensuring that I actually feel like a fourth year (instead of a confused third year, which is essentially what I really am)
Part of the ED rotation is the EMS Ride Along. Which I did today!! When I got there, I tried to remember what I'd heard other people in our class say about the EMS-RA day. Then I remembered: No one else from my class has done it!!! I was first! I got quite a thrill when I realized that. I am used to being last (or second-to-last) at everything, since most things are arranged alphabetically. But now, I have knowledge that NO ONE else in my class does. (Except for the former EMTs and people who have done ride-alongs before...but they don't count)
Here's how the day went:
1:00: Brenna arrives at the County EMS. Parks in one spot, gets out of car. Stands and looks at big scary garage, filled with ambulances (ambulanci?). Gets back in car, and follows signs to "EMS Administration Offices" Gets directed (through an indoor stairwell) down to the same scary garage area. Signs liability type waiver.
1:05-1:45: Brenna sits in Lounge, watching some violent movie (which she later - aka right now - finds out to be The 51st State) in which a large number of words were bleeped out.
1:45-3:00: Brenna jumps up and follows the team from Unit 29 when they get called to the aid of a woman with Chest Pain. I must admit, up to this point, I was pretty bored, and sleepy, and trying to figure out when I could gracefully make my escape. Then, we got in the ambulance, and they turned on the lights and sirens and we were OFF! We got to go so fast! It was the coolest thing EVER. Zipping past all these cars, blatantly running red lights. It was supremely cool. The getting the patient part and going to the hospital was also okay, but not as cool as the SPEED.
I stuck around for two and a half more calls (one was to a traffic accident, where they didn't end up needing any assistance - everyone was okay). At one point, we were going 85 miles an hour on Peter's Creek - a road where the speed limit is 45. SO COOL.
I actually would have stayed longer, except 1)I was starving, 2)I wanted to work out this evening, and 3)We were told to leave before dark - "There are bad parts of Winston-Salem, and I don't want you guys going there" said the attending, and I must heed those words of warning - I did see the kinds of trauma that would come in at night... like the man who'd been stabbed 20 times by 'some guy' that just broke into his house. (Turned out 'some guy' happened to be the other boyfriend of the stabbed man's girlfriend...)
Tomorrow is a random, big test day, so no Emergency stuff. Bummer... I want more fast rides!
Apr 22, 2005
Done!!!
It's over! Third year is over. I could cry. I probably will.
I did just totally fail the radiology test - you'd think that would be impossible with questions whose options include a. hot, b. noisy, c. dark, and so on. But that's what you get for not studying at all. But oh well! I don't care! Because third year is finito.
Now begins the year that I have been told, by many people, on many occasions will be 'the best year of my life.' I'll try not to prove them wrong. (Although, I must say I'm planning on my best years being when I'm in my 60s-80s)
Congrats to my fellow finishers. We did what felt impossible. How cool are we???
I did just totally fail the radiology test - you'd think that would be impossible with questions whose options include a. hot, b. noisy, c. dark, and so on. But that's what you get for not studying at all. But oh well! I don't care! Because third year is finito.
Now begins the year that I have been told, by many people, on many occasions will be 'the best year of my life.' I'll try not to prove them wrong. (Although, I must say I'm planning on my best years being when I'm in my 60s-80s)
Congrats to my fellow finishers. We did what felt impossible. How cool are we???
Apr 20, 2005
Before They Were Stars
If you don't watch American Idol, I say 'Good on ya!' I, however, do. And I'm going to talk about it now, so deal.
There is much debate about one rocker-turned-non-rocker contestant. That would, of course be Constantine. (He of the over-done eyeliner last night) There are those that maintain that Constantine can't hold a tune, and manages to float through each week based solely on his ability to bat his eyes and grin evilly. Granted, the eye batting evil grin is quite enjoyable, but to these people, I have this to say: LISTEN to him. He is not bad. In fact, he is quite good.
Good enough to study at Boston Conservatory (granted, I don't know the reputation that this particular conservatory has, but I can tell you - they wouldn't accept me!). AND good enough to star as Roger in a touring production of Rent. (For those of you not as obsessively familiar with Rent as I am: Roger is a lead. Lots and lots of singing) And he was good as Roger. How do I know, you innocently ask? Because I SAW him!!! Yes, indeed. Rent toured here back in fall of 2003, and of course I went, and I just found out that Constantine was Roger.
Granted, Constantine will not win. He is a musical actor/singer, not a rock star. But, hey, it is cool to watch him knowing that I've been within throwing distance of him at least. As long as I was throwing a paper airplane or something else with good loft and flight distance. Maybe a Frisbee...
There is much debate about one rocker-turned-non-rocker contestant. That would, of course be Constantine. (He of the over-done eyeliner last night) There are those that maintain that Constantine can't hold a tune, and manages to float through each week based solely on his ability to bat his eyes and grin evilly. Granted, the eye batting evil grin is quite enjoyable, but to these people, I have this to say: LISTEN to him. He is not bad. In fact, he is quite good.
Good enough to study at Boston Conservatory (granted, I don't know the reputation that this particular conservatory has, but I can tell you - they wouldn't accept me!). AND good enough to star as Roger in a touring production of Rent. (For those of you not as obsessively familiar with Rent as I am: Roger is a lead. Lots and lots of singing) And he was good as Roger. How do I know, you innocently ask? Because I SAW him!!! Yes, indeed. Rent toured here back in fall of 2003, and of course I went, and I just found out that Constantine was Roger.
Granted, Constantine will not win. He is a musical actor/singer, not a rock star. But, hey, it is cool to watch him knowing that I've been within throwing distance of him at least. As long as I was throwing a paper airplane or something else with good loft and flight distance. Maybe a Frisbee...
Apr 17, 2005
D-Day, Six Years Later
Flash back to April 17, 1999... I was 21, a junior at college busy with res life staff, class, friends and, on that particular day, taking the MCAT. The MCAT. The test that was going to determine my future. You cannot get into medical school without going thru the MCAT hurdle. The hardest test I had ever taken up to that point, it was really what felt like my first step towards my chosen career. That must be why this date has lived on in my head as An Important Day (whereas I totally forgot the anniversary of Step One of the Boards...) Back on that sunny Saturday, I had no idea where I'd be sitting in six years.
Back to April 17, 2005, an older and somewhat wiser me is preparing to start her Last Week of Third Year. I feel like I've been catapulted through time. I remember the MCAT day so clearly that I cannot fathom the thought that I'm so far beyond it. I remember exactly what I had for breakfast and lunch that day. Last Week of Third Year. That means that in little over 12 months, I will finally be reaching the culmination of the journey that I started six years ago. Of course, that will only mark the beginning of a much longer trip. (Don't you hate it when people use words like 'journey?')
If I took the MCAT today, I would fail miserably...!
Back to April 17, 2005, an older and somewhat wiser me is preparing to start her Last Week of Third Year. I feel like I've been catapulted through time. I remember the MCAT day so clearly that I cannot fathom the thought that I'm so far beyond it. I remember exactly what I had for breakfast and lunch that day. Last Week of Third Year. That means that in little over 12 months, I will finally be reaching the culmination of the journey that I started six years ago. Of course, that will only mark the beginning of a much longer trip. (Don't you hate it when people use words like 'journey?')
If I took the MCAT today, I would fail miserably...!
Apr 13, 2005
Like a Babe in Arms
I am in the middle of my second to last week of third year. This is absolutely monumental.
I'm in anesthesia this week - it is just a brief, one week rotation. And it is supremely cool! There are all these gadgets and levers and knobs. And the residents are fantastic. A complete change from the OB residents (but they would even be cool without the comparison to OB). I worked with one first year resident who grew up in the Midwest (like me), then moved to the Northwest (like me), went back to the Midwest for med school (kind of like me - I went back for college) and then came here (like me!) And, she is blonde, like me. It was like meeting another version of myself!
So, in the Future of Brenna, Anesthesiology is officially added to my top three career choices (not just because of the residents - it is just dang cool stuff). My top three, again, in case you haven't been paying attention: Pediatrics, Neurology, Anesthesiology.
Pediatrics, Neurology and Anesthesiology are about as different from one another as you can get. Why am I drawn to all three of them? My theory: if you take the first letter of each specialty (P, N, A) and rearrange them, you can spell both "PAN" and "NAP" bringing to mind images of spending all day eating and sleeping - quite possibly the perfect life. (And a life that we all lived until we were about 9-12 months old... ahh, the good old days...)
It is presumably possible to combine all three - to be a pediatric neuroanesthetist. But that abbreviation would be "PNA" which, for you non-med speaking people out there, is the abbreviation for "pneumonia" - most definitely not a perfect life. Besides, I don't think the demand for pediatric neuroanesthetists is very large.
Fortunately, anesthesia is freaking hard to get into nowadays (No call and no clinic - can anyone say 'lifestyle?') Fourteenpeople from the class above us are going into anesthesia. That's over a sixth of the class! But that class is populated with impersonable gunners, the type of person currently flooding the anesthesia market. I am not a gunner, and have valued sanity and quality of life, and as a result, do not have the numbers one needs to become an anesthesiologist.
That's okay, because I hadn't really changed my mind from peds anyway!
I'm in anesthesia this week - it is just a brief, one week rotation. And it is supremely cool! There are all these gadgets and levers and knobs. And the residents are fantastic. A complete change from the OB residents (but they would even be cool without the comparison to OB). I worked with one first year resident who grew up in the Midwest (like me), then moved to the Northwest (like me), went back to the Midwest for med school (kind of like me - I went back for college) and then came here (like me!) And, she is blonde, like me. It was like meeting another version of myself!
So, in the Future of Brenna, Anesthesiology is officially added to my top three career choices (not just because of the residents - it is just dang cool stuff). My top three, again, in case you haven't been paying attention: Pediatrics, Neurology, Anesthesiology.
Pediatrics, Neurology and Anesthesiology are about as different from one another as you can get. Why am I drawn to all three of them? My theory: if you take the first letter of each specialty (P, N, A) and rearrange them, you can spell both "PAN" and "NAP" bringing to mind images of spending all day eating and sleeping - quite possibly the perfect life. (And a life that we all lived until we were about 9-12 months old... ahh, the good old days...)
It is presumably possible to combine all three - to be a pediatric neuroanesthetist. But that abbreviation would be "PNA" which, for you non-med speaking people out there, is the abbreviation for "pneumonia" - most definitely not a perfect life. Besides, I don't think the demand for pediatric neuroanesthetists is very large.
Fortunately, anesthesia is freaking hard to get into nowadays (No call and no clinic - can anyone say 'lifestyle?') Fourteenpeople from the class above us are going into anesthesia. That's over a sixth of the class! But that class is populated with impersonable gunners, the type of person currently flooding the anesthesia market. I am not a gunner, and have valued sanity and quality of life, and as a result, do not have the numbers one needs to become an anesthesiologist.
That's okay, because I hadn't really changed my mind from peds anyway!
Apr 10, 2005
Blackened Toenail
I almost painted my toenails last weekend. I think I tweezed my eyebrows instead, or watched a movie. Or something like that... The point is, had I painted my toenails, and assuming that I had not hated the result and promptly removed said polish, I would have missed seeing my left pinky toenail turn black. No, I don't have some sort of strange occlusive vascular disease. I'm just a klutz, and the battle of Brenna vs. Wal-Mart shopping cart didn't go my way.
Remember being a kid, and wanting to push the shopping cart, so that you could give it a good shove and then stand on the bottom shelf part, turning grocery shopping into an X-treme sport? Okay, I admit that I do that now, probably more often than I did as a child - there is no mom to say "Brenna!" in her exasperated voice (I heard that a lot when I was younger...still do, actually...) to prevent me from Xtreme shopping. (That wasn't what I did today, by the way - I was just a klutz.)
My bike offered me a little more freedon, because Mom didn't tend to be there when I was zipping around the neighborhood on my hot pink Schwinn.
I am house-sitting this week, which means that I'm in a real live neighborhood, with real live families and kids. With real live bikes. I saw several kids out zinnping around on their bikes today, and I really wanted to join them. Seriously, is there anything like being a kid on a bike? Such freedom and joy. Hills are never as exciting as they are when you are going down as fast as you can on your bike with your hands in the air. Or standing on the girly-bar of the frame. Or with your feet on the handlebars. Yes, of course, I did all of these things at one point or another. And, miracle of miracles, I never hurt myself. (Incidentally, the only time I did hurt myself on my bike was on level ground, with hands on handles and feet on pedals. I ran into a parked van...)
Unlike the Xtreme grocery shopping, though, these are things that I have not done for years! These are actually things that I think I'd be too scared to do now. With or without the exasperated mother.
I hate to feel that I'm growing up - I pride myself even, on certain aspects of my immaturity. Apparently, I've gotten old enough to learn fear, though. Or perhaps just a healthy respect for life-threatening activities.
Remember being a kid, and wanting to push the shopping cart, so that you could give it a good shove and then stand on the bottom shelf part, turning grocery shopping into an X-treme sport? Okay, I admit that I do that now, probably more often than I did as a child - there is no mom to say "Brenna!" in her exasperated voice (I heard that a lot when I was younger...still do, actually...) to prevent me from Xtreme shopping. (That wasn't what I did today, by the way - I was just a klutz.)
My bike offered me a little more freedon, because Mom didn't tend to be there when I was zipping around the neighborhood on my hot pink Schwinn.
I am house-sitting this week, which means that I'm in a real live neighborhood, with real live families and kids. With real live bikes. I saw several kids out zinnping around on their bikes today, and I really wanted to join them. Seriously, is there anything like being a kid on a bike? Such freedom and joy. Hills are never as exciting as they are when you are going down as fast as you can on your bike with your hands in the air. Or standing on the girly-bar of the frame. Or with your feet on the handlebars. Yes, of course, I did all of these things at one point or another. And, miracle of miracles, I never hurt myself. (Incidentally, the only time I did hurt myself on my bike was on level ground, with hands on handles and feet on pedals. I ran into a parked van...)
Unlike the Xtreme grocery shopping, though, these are things that I have not done for years! These are actually things that I think I'd be too scared to do now. With or without the exasperated mother.
I hate to feel that I'm growing up - I pride myself even, on certain aspects of my immaturity. Apparently, I've gotten old enough to learn fear, though. Or perhaps just a healthy respect for life-threatening activities.
Apr 8, 2005
The Laboring Parturient
Hee-hee. I think that is my favorite phrase/term in all of OB/Gyn. "The Laboring Parturient." It sounds like a book. Or a really bad band. (Like a band in which I'd be the lead singer/clarinet player) It means, in real-person talk (aka anyone other than the OB anesthesiologist who used the phrase repeatedly): a lady in labor.
But guess what? I never have to deal with any more laboring paturients! Or Papanicolaou smears. Or having to say 'pap smear' in Espanol. (BTW, it is 'papanicolau' in Spanish - they just don't shorten it). Or (wonder of wonders) OB/Gyn residents!!!
Okay, in reality, I will have to deal with all of these in the future. Especially as a budding pediatrician. And, you know, as a woman.
But I do breathe a large sigh of relief, even as I frantically cram for the OB Shelf test - a 100 question national exam designed to make us cower and whimper as we acknowledge our severe lack of ability to learn everything... well, anything, really. Let's just say that my brain has not been soaking up OB/Gyn knowledge terribly well. I can write a mean SOAP note, though:
Haha! It is like another language. Definitely not one of the Romance languages, though.
T minus two hours and fifteen minutes to test time. More cramming!
But guess what? I never have to deal with any more laboring paturients! Or Papanicolaou smears. Or having to say 'pap smear' in Espanol. (BTW, it is 'papanicolau' in Spanish - they just don't shorten it). Or (wonder of wonders) OB/Gyn residents!!!
Okay, in reality, I will have to deal with all of these in the future. Especially as a budding pediatrician. And, you know, as a woman.
But I do breathe a large sigh of relief, even as I frantically cram for the OB Shelf test - a 100 question national exam designed to make us cower and whimper as we acknowledge our severe lack of ability to learn everything... well, anything, really. Let's just say that my brain has not been soaking up OB/Gyn knowledge terribly well. I can write a mean SOAP note, though:
S: Pt s c/o; no HA/RUQ pain/visual change; +FM, -LOF/VB
O: AF VSS, Exam: RRR, lungs CTAB, FF/NT, +BS, 2+ DTR B; FHT: 130-140, Toco: q2-3", SVE: 5/60/+1
A/P: 19 yo G2P1 at 41 c PreE on PPit for IOL, doing well, c/w expectant mgmt and Mg for sz px
Haha! It is like another language. Definitely not one of the Romance languages, though.
T minus two hours and fifteen minutes to test time. More cramming!
Apr 3, 2005
Doomed
The White Cloud Strikes Again. Today is my last day on call and we, with two patients on service, are at the busiest we've been all day. Do you know how slowly time passes with very little to do? The answer is very slow. Very, very slow.
And another, larger, problem with this white cloud junk is the lack of opportunity to actually do anything. My vaginal delivery tally is up to four. My standing around, just being in the way during a vaginal delivery tally is up to three. I did get to help a little during one. A little.
And that's it. One of our two patients just delivered, the other won't go for a while. And I'm done with OB call forever in three hours. All I wanted to do was deliver one baby!
BUT.
I am DONE with OB call FOREVER in three hours. You're not going to hear me complain.
And another, larger, problem with this white cloud junk is the lack of opportunity to actually do anything. My vaginal delivery tally is up to four. My standing around, just being in the way during a vaginal delivery tally is up to three. I did get to help a little during one. A little.
And that's it. One of our two patients just delivered, the other won't go for a while. And I'm done with OB call forever in three hours. All I wanted to do was deliver one baby!
BUT.
I am DONE with OB call FOREVER in three hours. You're not going to hear me complain.
Apr 1, 2005
Code Blue in the Vatican
One benefit of being up all night is being on top of the big news stories that happen while everyone else is sleeping. I've been checking up on the pope all night. And he is not doing well.
He has a tracheotomy from a few weeks ago, a feeding tube put in his nose a few days ago, and now they are saying he suffered "cardiocirculatory collapse." I'm honestly not sure what is meant by that phrase. To me, it means that his heart may have stopped and that they possibly had to give him drugs - or electric shocks even - to start it again. Not quite the same as a heart attack - that is when blood flow to the muscle of your heart gets blocked somehow, causing the muscle to malfunction. With something called a 'collapse,' I picture more of a situation where the heart just stops beating. His body is old and weak, and he has been putting up a fight for a long time.
What happens when people get old and frail and their bodies get tired of fighting? If left to their natural resources, most people would stop eating. It is a natural part of aging - just another way of your body slowing down. I of course don't have proof, but I think of it as a slow systems shut-down of sorts. Start giving your body less and less fuel, and eventually it just kind of drifts to a halt.
The pope, however, is a firm believer, as he wrote in 2004, that "The administration of water and food, even when provided by artificial means, always represents a natural way of preserving life ... not a medical procedure." And, since life should be preserved at all costs, it follows that all of those people who stop eating should get feeding tubes to prolong their lives.
I just don't think I agree with that. If that were true, we'd be force-feeding a lot more elderly people who don't necessarily want it. There are a lot of sons and daughters out there that want to keep their parents around for as long as possible for fear of losing that parent. There are also sons and daughters out there that want to keep their parents alive through the holidays, summer, vacation, whatever, until it gets to be a more convenient time for them to die.
There is a time when I think it is okay to let a person go. Not necessarily euthanasia (I am still undecided about that). Just a nice, peaceful, natural death. The way God intended. Slow systems shutdown.
Of course the question that comes then, is where to draw the line. But I don't have to answer that! Besides, it is 3:45 in the morning and I've been up for way too long to think about things like that.
As a last plug, I do encourage everyone out there, regardless of age, to have some sort of end of life plan and make sure that people know about it. (And I need to follow my own advice). The Pope is 84. Terri Schiavo was in her 20s when her tragic accident occurred. There is no way to know...
He has a tracheotomy from a few weeks ago, a feeding tube put in his nose a few days ago, and now they are saying he suffered "cardiocirculatory collapse." I'm honestly not sure what is meant by that phrase. To me, it means that his heart may have stopped and that they possibly had to give him drugs - or electric shocks even - to start it again. Not quite the same as a heart attack - that is when blood flow to the muscle of your heart gets blocked somehow, causing the muscle to malfunction. With something called a 'collapse,' I picture more of a situation where the heart just stops beating. His body is old and weak, and he has been putting up a fight for a long time.
What happens when people get old and frail and their bodies get tired of fighting? If left to their natural resources, most people would stop eating. It is a natural part of aging - just another way of your body slowing down. I of course don't have proof, but I think of it as a slow systems shut-down of sorts. Start giving your body less and less fuel, and eventually it just kind of drifts to a halt.
The pope, however, is a firm believer, as he wrote in 2004, that "The administration of water and food, even when provided by artificial means, always represents a natural way of preserving life ... not a medical procedure." And, since life should be preserved at all costs, it follows that all of those people who stop eating should get feeding tubes to prolong their lives.
I just don't think I agree with that. If that were true, we'd be force-feeding a lot more elderly people who don't necessarily want it. There are a lot of sons and daughters out there that want to keep their parents around for as long as possible for fear of losing that parent. There are also sons and daughters out there that want to keep their parents alive through the holidays, summer, vacation, whatever, until it gets to be a more convenient time for them to die.
There is a time when I think it is okay to let a person go. Not necessarily euthanasia (I am still undecided about that). Just a nice, peaceful, natural death. The way God intended. Slow systems shutdown.
Of course the question that comes then, is where to draw the line. But I don't have to answer that! Besides, it is 3:45 in the morning and I've been up for way too long to think about things like that.
As a last plug, I do encourage everyone out there, regardless of age, to have some sort of end of life plan and make sure that people know about it. (And I need to follow my own advice). The Pope is 84. Terri Schiavo was in her 20s when her tragic accident occurred. There is no way to know...
Mar 31, 2005
Yodelling Banshees from Neptune
I have absolutely nothing to say. There are some days where a lot of interesting stuff happens, and I spend the entire day composing blog entries in my head (most of which never actually make it out of said head). But today has been... ordinary? Boring? Eh. Maybe I'm just not picking up on the interesting things.
I did get to actually help with a vaginal birth this morning. That was pretty cool. Here is my issue with OB, though: delivering babies is pretty freaking cool, but after the baby is out, I want to stay with the baby. At that point, I don't care about the mother any more. I'm all like 'Hello! There's a baby in the room!' and am completely distracted. I much prefer the baby to the mother. Partly, because all that's left for the mother after the baby is out is delivering the placenta (disgusting) and achieving hemostasis (stopping bleeding = boring)
Did you know that yodelling can be spelled with one L or two? You learn something new every day...
Also somewhat interesting is the fellow/attending whose name is Nina, but is spelled Ngina. I am going to add a silent G to my name. I'll be Brengna.
The doctor's parking lot at this hospital (private hospital) is littered with Audis, BMWs and Mercedes. With the occasional Honda.
That's about it for now.
I did get to actually help with a vaginal birth this morning. That was pretty cool. Here is my issue with OB, though: delivering babies is pretty freaking cool, but after the baby is out, I want to stay with the baby. At that point, I don't care about the mother any more. I'm all like 'Hello! There's a baby in the room!' and am completely distracted. I much prefer the baby to the mother. Partly, because all that's left for the mother after the baby is out is delivering the placenta (disgusting) and achieving hemostasis (stopping bleeding = boring)
Did you know that yodelling can be spelled with one L or two? You learn something new every day...
Also somewhat interesting is the fellow/attending whose name is Nina, but is spelled Ngina. I am going to add a silent G to my name. I'll be Brengna.
The doctor's parking lot at this hospital (private hospital) is littered with Audis, BMWs and Mercedes. With the occasional Honda.
That's about it for now.
I Refuse!
Today is my penultimate day of call for my third year of med school (my penultimate year...)!
I'm trying to ignore the fact that for the last two hours, I've alternately been breaking out in a cold sweat and having chills. I refuse to be sick. I prefer to think it is a combination of lack of sleep, and a change from night to day shift. Night shift bumps the temp up to about 90, and day shift keeps it at around 50. I don't understand it. Night shift also sits around and talks the ENTIRE time.
Anyway, wish me luck on call. Hateful thing.
I'm trying to ignore the fact that for the last two hours, I've alternately been breaking out in a cold sweat and having chills. I refuse to be sick. I prefer to think it is a combination of lack of sleep, and a change from night to day shift. Night shift bumps the temp up to about 90, and day shift keeps it at around 50. I don't understand it. Night shift also sits around and talks the ENTIRE time.
Anyway, wish me luck on call. Hateful thing.
Mar 29, 2005
Drumroll....
Today was my last day EVER at the DHP. What, pray tell, is the DHP? I'm glad you asked. Unless you didn't, in which case, I'm a tad bit peeved with you.
The DHP is the "Downtown Health Plaza" which is the place where you go to see a doctor if you don't have any insurance. It is really a great service to the community, and is heavily used - as a place to receive medical care and as a place to force medical students to learn/practice Spanish. Lots and lots of Spanish. Once or twice, I started speaking Spanish (I use the term 'speaking' loosely here) to people with last names like 'Smith.' AKA Non-Spanish speakers.
We get the lovely experiece of going to the resident's clinics at DHP during Peds and OB/Gyn rotations. During Peds, I relied heavily upon the translators, but during OB I branched out more on my own. Dolor? Donde? OK, escuchar a la corazon de bebe ahora. (No clue if that is even close to right)
There are several translators there for people like me. Most of them are great. But then there is Miss Grumpy Pants. I have no clue what her real name is. She is a surly one, though. I was sorely tempted to grab her arm, maybe shake it a little and exclaim (because I do a lot of exclaiming in my mind) "If you hate the job so, why are you here?" Needless to say, no exclamations were made.
But, today was the last time I had to see Miss Grumpy Pants. Ever!
I'm stuffed up and my head hurts. I think Grumpy Pants cursed me.
The DHP is the "Downtown Health Plaza" which is the place where you go to see a doctor if you don't have any insurance. It is really a great service to the community, and is heavily used - as a place to receive medical care and as a place to force medical students to learn/practice Spanish. Lots and lots of Spanish. Once or twice, I started speaking Spanish (I use the term 'speaking' loosely here) to people with last names like 'Smith.' AKA Non-Spanish speakers.
We get the lovely experiece of going to the resident's clinics at DHP during Peds and OB/Gyn rotations. During Peds, I relied heavily upon the translators, but during OB I branched out more on my own. Dolor? Donde? OK, escuchar a la corazon de bebe ahora. (No clue if that is even close to right)
There are several translators there for people like me. Most of them are great. But then there is Miss Grumpy Pants. I have no clue what her real name is. She is a surly one, though. I was sorely tempted to grab her arm, maybe shake it a little and exclaim (because I do a lot of exclaiming in my mind) "If you hate the job so, why are you here?" Needless to say, no exclamations were made.
But, today was the last time I had to see Miss Grumpy Pants. Ever!
I'm stuffed up and my head hurts. I think Grumpy Pants cursed me.
Mar 27, 2005
Happy Easter!
As 40% of my grade in the OB rotation is based on the test that I take in... 12 days, I really would be doing myself a favor by studying. Apparently, I don't like myself all that much this weekend, though! I DO have the Discovery Channel on right now, though, and they are showing Babies: Special Delivery, whcih is chronicling several complicated pregnancies. So that is kind of like studying. Of course, with statements like "She's also been given penicillin, because she tested positive for Group Beta strep" however, are probably doing me more harm than good. It is Group B strep. The "B" stands for... well, "B."
Another great educational comment: "But in the high risk unit, nothing is ever routine!"
I think I may find more helpful (and relevant!) information here.
I hope everyone is sitting at home nursing a stomach ache after stuffing their faces with pounds of chocolate bunnies!
Another great educational comment: "But in the high risk unit, nothing is ever routine!"
I think I may find more helpful (and relevant!) information here.
I hope everyone is sitting at home nursing a stomach ache after stuffing their faces with pounds of chocolate bunnies!
Mar 23, 2005
Mmmm....
I have fallen in love with a new book. It sustained me through call last night, and through a (cavity free!) dentist visit today. It may be pure fluff, with little actual nutritional value, but Candyfreak by Steve Almond (real name!) is fantastic. So says I.
I was reading it last night while sitting on the refrigerator in the dog house (don't ask). I had a really, really hard time not bursting out laughing at several parts.
It is a book (and we all know I love books) about candy (and we all know I love candy). Book! Candy! CANDY!! Pure bliss.
And interesting and funny, too!
I was reading it last night while sitting on the refrigerator in the dog house (don't ask). I had a really, really hard time not bursting out laughing at several parts.
It is a book (and we all know I love books) about candy (and we all know I love candy). Book! Candy! CANDY!! Pure bliss.
And interesting and funny, too!
Mar 22, 2005
Another Night, Another Dream
(Apparently today is "Use a song Lyric as a Title Day")
I'm on call. Again. Not for the last time. But this time, instead of being on call with my happy, fun, goofy friend that makes time pass quickly, I'm on call with... (dum de dum dum) a (MM)PWHM...
Which brings me to something that has been on my mind for, oh, three or so days. Because, as I am acutely aware, it has been officially over a year since I was dumped by my friends. I cannot believe that I survived. Scratch that. I can believe I survived, I just can't believe that I did as well as I did.
:::Pause for a moment to send my sincerest thank yous to everyone who helped me remember that I am a nice person and that some people do manage to keep liking me. I don't say it enough, but I love you all. :::
I have not decided whether it was a good or a horrible thing to have been in the same rotation group as these people. In some ways it has been among the hardest challenges of my life - to have to see these people who quite literally crused me on a daily basis. In other ways, I think it was good for me to have them around. It let me keep everything in perspective. Had I been able to isolate myself from them, I think they would have built up into this gigantic force in my head. A force that I could see haunting me for a lot longer than a year. In real life, they are now nothing more than a couple of people I'd rather not be around. Hey! Look at that. I just decided (amazing what things come out of your brain at 1 am sitting in a tiny little closet waiting for babies to be born): it was a good thing. Hard, but good.
And really, that's where it ends. They deserve no more of my life now, than just some acquaintances. I will remember the fun times we had, because they were dang fun. But, that's it. I am officially retiring the (MM)PWHM.
I'm on call. Again. Not for the last time. But this time, instead of being on call with my happy, fun, goofy friend that makes time pass quickly, I'm on call with... (dum de dum dum) a (MM)PWHM...
Which brings me to something that has been on my mind for, oh, three or so days. Because, as I am acutely aware, it has been officially over a year since I was dumped by my friends. I cannot believe that I survived. Scratch that. I can believe I survived, I just can't believe that I did as well as I did.
:::Pause for a moment to send my sincerest thank yous to everyone who helped me remember that I am a nice person and that some people do manage to keep liking me. I don't say it enough, but I love you all. :::
I have not decided whether it was a good or a horrible thing to have been in the same rotation group as these people. In some ways it has been among the hardest challenges of my life - to have to see these people who quite literally crused me on a daily basis. In other ways, I think it was good for me to have them around. It let me keep everything in perspective. Had I been able to isolate myself from them, I think they would have built up into this gigantic force in my head. A force that I could see haunting me for a lot longer than a year. In real life, they are now nothing more than a couple of people I'd rather not be around. Hey! Look at that. I just decided (amazing what things come out of your brain at 1 am sitting in a tiny little closet waiting for babies to be born): it was a good thing. Hard, but good.
And really, that's where it ends. They deserve no more of my life now, than just some acquaintances. I will remember the fun times we had, because they were dang fun. But, that's it. I am officially retiring the (MM)PWHM.
How Can You Mend a Broken Heart
We have a patient on the high risk OB service right now that is just breaking my heart. But in reality, it is her heart that is broken.
She is a young Hispanic woman, and this is her first pregnancy. She went to the doctor for a check-up - the first one during the pregnancy (possibly the first doctor visit in a long, long time - at least, I hope so). The doctors noticed a murmur. A bad murmer. A cardiac echo showed that she has a hole in her heart (an atrial septal defect for those in the know). This is something that has almost certainly been there since she was born. Something - perhaps the pregnancy, perhaps time - has caused the blood flow to back up into her lungs, causing pulmonary hypertension (aka Eisenmenger's syndrome). Severe pulmonary hypertension. Plus a bit of severe pulmonic stenosis and severe mitral regurgitation on top of that. In real person terms: she is about one sneeze away from going into total heart failure. And she is pregnant.
Doing a little research online shows me that the official recommendation for women with Eisenmengers is sterilization. AKA no babies. None. Ever. Why? Because the mortality - that means death - rate is up to 50%. Half of these women who get pregnant will die, either before, during or after they give birth.
This young woman had no clue.
And she still didn't as of a few hours ago when I saw her. Because she speaks Spanish, and you need a REALLY good translator to go in to tell someone that we need to deliver her baby at just over 6 months gestation otherwise she may die. She may die anyway.
No one knows what to do with her. We'll probably have to transfer her to another university hospital. One that can do heart transplants, so that she can get added to the list.
It just breaks my heart.
She is a young Hispanic woman, and this is her first pregnancy. She went to the doctor for a check-up - the first one during the pregnancy (possibly the first doctor visit in a long, long time - at least, I hope so). The doctors noticed a murmur. A bad murmer. A cardiac echo showed that she has a hole in her heart (an atrial septal defect for those in the know). This is something that has almost certainly been there since she was born. Something - perhaps the pregnancy, perhaps time - has caused the blood flow to back up into her lungs, causing pulmonary hypertension (aka Eisenmenger's syndrome). Severe pulmonary hypertension. Plus a bit of severe pulmonic stenosis and severe mitral regurgitation on top of that. In real person terms: she is about one sneeze away from going into total heart failure. And she is pregnant.
Doing a little research online shows me that the official recommendation for women with Eisenmengers is sterilization. AKA no babies. None. Ever. Why? Because the mortality - that means death - rate is up to 50%. Half of these women who get pregnant will die, either before, during or after they give birth.
This young woman had no clue.
And she still didn't as of a few hours ago when I saw her. Because she speaks Spanish, and you need a REALLY good translator to go in to tell someone that we need to deliver her baby at just over 6 months gestation otherwise she may die. She may die anyway.
No one knows what to do with her. We'll probably have to transfer her to another university hospital. One that can do heart transplants, so that she can get added to the list.
It just breaks my heart.
Mar 20, 2005
I Wasn't Online Yesterday
Happy (day after your actual) Birthday Maripat!!!
Woop-woop! Bring down the hiz-ouse!
Woop-woop! Bring down the hiz-ouse!
Mar 17, 2005
Lesson for the Ages
If it has been, say, a year or so since the last time you went running, and you decide all spur-of-the-moment to try it again one afternoon: don't start by running three miles. Or you will end up one sore puppy. Believe me, I speak from experience.
Also: Happy St. Patrick's Day!
Also, 2: Happy MATCH Day!!! (a mere 364 days, or about 8736 hours, until mine own)
Also, 3: HAPPY BIRTHDAY ARI!!! (I think I have the date about correct...)
Lastly: I missed my One Year Blog Anniversary (3/12/05), so Happy (Late) Anniversary, oh blog-o'-mine. How I love thee, and the ability thou givest me of spouting off to the world at general. You complete me. (tee-hee!)
Also: Happy St. Patrick's Day!
Also, 2: Happy MATCH Day!!! (a mere 364 days, or about 8736 hours, until mine own)
Also, 3: HAPPY BIRTHDAY ARI!!! (I think I have the date about correct...)
Lastly: I missed my One Year Blog Anniversary (3/12/05), so Happy (Late) Anniversary, oh blog-o'-mine. How I love thee, and the ability thou givest me of spouting off to the world at general. You complete me. (tee-hee!)
Mar 15, 2005
4 am
I'm tired. Even though I already slept for three or so hours. OB call is another opportunity for me to be on call overnight. Isn't that just great?!
Today... well, yesterday, really, I guess... I got to see one vaginal birth and one C-section of twins.
And I have this to say: we all come into the world looking pretty skanky-nasty. Covered in grayish slime and a nice purplish-blue color. That is until we start screaming.
Scream away little baby, say I. Some day you might find yourself awake at four in the morning just waiting for something interesting to happen...
Today... well, yesterday, really, I guess... I got to see one vaginal birth and one C-section of twins.
And I have this to say: we all come into the world looking pretty skanky-nasty. Covered in grayish slime and a nice purplish-blue color. That is until we start screaming.
Scream away little baby, say I. Some day you might find yourself awake at four in the morning just waiting for something interesting to happen...
Mar 14, 2005
Mar 13, 2005
I'm With the Bride
Last night I had the lovely experience of going to my first ever Bachelorette Party. We all wore matching pink T-shirts that said "I'm with the bride." And the bride wore a white shirt that said "The bride" and a veil (covered in condoms)
Oh, yeah, and the whole thing was in Charleston. I heart Charleston.
So, being a person who has gone out on occasion in the past, of course I'd seen bachelorette parties before. Usually in a "oh, look, there's a bunch of giggly girls with one wearing a veil/tiara/feather boa/some form of penis decoration - must be a bachelorette party." Then I proceed to go on my merry way. Turns out, that is not most men's reactions. They honestly seemed to be fascinated with the whole concept of a large group of girls (there were 13 of us) out specifically to celebrate a wedding. Of course it probably helped that we were toting along an inflatable penis. Other bachelorette parties were also very excited to see us.
On the whole, I have never felt so conspicuous going out to bars and/or dancing before. It was fun! Of course once is about enough for me. I'm perfectly happy to go back to my days of blissful anonymity.
I propose here, though, that every woman should have a 'bachelorette party' with her friends at least once a year. Even if there are no weddings forthcoming. It is just a fun way to feel special for the night!
Back to real life now, though, and to a place where I will feel decidedly un-special. I am about to embark upon my two weeks of high-risk obstetrics. These two weeks are purported to be two of the worst imaginable weeks of third year. Wish me luck...
Six weeks of third year left, total. Just under 14 months until I'm an MD. Ack!
Oh, yeah, and the whole thing was in Charleston. I heart Charleston.
So, being a person who has gone out on occasion in the past, of course I'd seen bachelorette parties before. Usually in a "oh, look, there's a bunch of giggly girls with one wearing a veil/tiara/feather boa/some form of penis decoration - must be a bachelorette party." Then I proceed to go on my merry way. Turns out, that is not most men's reactions. They honestly seemed to be fascinated with the whole concept of a large group of girls (there were 13 of us) out specifically to celebrate a wedding. Of course it probably helped that we were toting along an inflatable penis. Other bachelorette parties were also very excited to see us.
On the whole, I have never felt so conspicuous going out to bars and/or dancing before. It was fun! Of course once is about enough for me. I'm perfectly happy to go back to my days of blissful anonymity.
I propose here, though, that every woman should have a 'bachelorette party' with her friends at least once a year. Even if there are no weddings forthcoming. It is just a fun way to feel special for the night!
Back to real life now, though, and to a place where I will feel decidedly un-special. I am about to embark upon my two weeks of high-risk obstetrics. These two weeks are purported to be two of the worst imaginable weeks of third year. Wish me luck...
Six weeks of third year left, total. Just under 14 months until I'm an MD. Ack!
Mar 8, 2005
Which is Better: Silence or Stupidity
I am just so annoyed right now that I don't even know how to describe it.
Today was a perfectly normal day, with really nothing that went wrong. Then we had our lecture at 4 and I feel like my head imploded. The lecturer was one of those deluded people who actually wanted, and expected full participation. For some groups, this is not a problem. Unfortunately, I seem to be in a group of monks that only fulfill their vow of silence during lectures. NO ONE answers anything. Okay, that is an exaggeration. Of the 15 of us, there are 3-4 that regularly open their mouths to answer questions. That leaves 11 silent bodies.
Today, the lecturer was WAY above our heads. Well, at least way above my head. I didn't know anything, may some of the others did. But I tried! As one of the 3-4 regular speakers, I did my duty - I answered questions. Of course, EVERYTHING I said was wrong. I just kept sounding stupider and stupider. (heh. Stupider...) Eventually, it got to the point where even I stopped answering. I just couldn't handle it any more. I wanted some semblence of support from the rest of my group. Sigh.
Today WAS a game of 'Read My Mind,' though, so I don't blame the others for not piping up.
Dr. Attending: What other anemia can you get during pregnancy?
Me (or some other brave soul): Um, hemolytic?
Dr. Attending: Well, I guess, but I was really thinking sickle cell.
OR
Dr. Attending: What other vitamins should she be on?
Brave soul: Um, folate?
Dr. Attending: Related to anemia.
Brave soul: Um, B12?
Dr. Attending: That has to do with that GI lecture I gave you last year.
[Silence]
Brave Soul: B6?
Dr. Attending: Vitamin C!
Why even bother speaking, you may ask, when all the others get by with remaining mute? Well, I have been a teacher at various points in my life, and I know how awful it is to be there looking at the silent class, waiting for someone to just get the ball rolling. I have sympathy for the lecturer, and I have a desire to get out of lecture faster. Today it just ended up frustrating the heck out of me. Bye bye heck, you're all gone from me.
I'm going to go find chocolate now. Mmm. Chocolate. And a book that doesn't contain any uteri.
Today was a perfectly normal day, with really nothing that went wrong. Then we had our lecture at 4 and I feel like my head imploded. The lecturer was one of those deluded people who actually wanted, and expected full participation. For some groups, this is not a problem. Unfortunately, I seem to be in a group of monks that only fulfill their vow of silence during lectures. NO ONE answers anything. Okay, that is an exaggeration. Of the 15 of us, there are 3-4 that regularly open their mouths to answer questions. That leaves 11 silent bodies.
Today, the lecturer was WAY above our heads. Well, at least way above my head. I didn't know anything, may some of the others did. But I tried! As one of the 3-4 regular speakers, I did my duty - I answered questions. Of course, EVERYTHING I said was wrong. I just kept sounding stupider and stupider. (heh. Stupider...) Eventually, it got to the point where even I stopped answering. I just couldn't handle it any more. I wanted some semblence of support from the rest of my group. Sigh.
Today WAS a game of 'Read My Mind,' though, so I don't blame the others for not piping up.
Dr. Attending: What other anemia can you get during pregnancy?
Me (or some other brave soul): Um, hemolytic?
Dr. Attending: Well, I guess, but I was really thinking sickle cell.
OR
Dr. Attending: What other vitamins should she be on?
Brave soul: Um, folate?
Dr. Attending: Related to anemia.
Brave soul: Um, B12?
Dr. Attending: That has to do with that GI lecture I gave you last year.
[Silence]
Brave Soul: B6?
Dr. Attending: Vitamin C!
Why even bother speaking, you may ask, when all the others get by with remaining mute? Well, I have been a teacher at various points in my life, and I know how awful it is to be there looking at the silent class, waiting for someone to just get the ball rolling. I have sympathy for the lecturer, and I have a desire to get out of lecture faster. Today it just ended up frustrating the heck out of me. Bye bye heck, you're all gone from me.
I'm going to go find chocolate now. Mmm. Chocolate. And a book that doesn't contain any uteri.
Mar 4, 2005
Three Months
That is apparently how long it takes one to get over the crash of a computer, and the loss of a novel. Interesting, no?
My computer crashed about three months ago. If you'll remember, that was right around the time that Nanowrimo came to an end. I had successfully reached the 50,000 word mark (50,009 to be exact), and was finally getting around to posting it on my novel blog... Then came the crash. Like the stock market in 1929, my computer crashed; like the investors in 1929, my hopes and dreams were crashed with them.
Except that it took them years and years to get over it, and it only took me three months. And lots of chocolate.
I've finally gone back to my website, copied everything I had posted there, and discovered that I lost around 16,500 words. Not too bad... I don't think I even really liked much of the last 10,000.
So, what happens now? (does that phrase make anybody else think of Evita? Well, I don't know. I have to re-read what I wrote to decide how terrible it really was. Then, maybe if I'm feeling inspired I'll try to work on it some more.
Some others of us could use some inspiration, too, I believe...
My computer crashed about three months ago. If you'll remember, that was right around the time that Nanowrimo came to an end. I had successfully reached the 50,000 word mark (50,009 to be exact), and was finally getting around to posting it on my novel blog... Then came the crash. Like the stock market in 1929, my computer crashed; like the investors in 1929, my hopes and dreams were crashed with them.
Except that it took them years and years to get over it, and it only took me three months. And lots of chocolate.
I've finally gone back to my website, copied everything I had posted there, and discovered that I lost around 16,500 words. Not too bad... I don't think I even really liked much of the last 10,000.
So, what happens now? (does that phrase make anybody else think of Evita? Well, I don't know. I have to re-read what I wrote to decide how terrible it really was. Then, maybe if I'm feeling inspired I'll try to work on it some more.
Some others of us could use some inspiration, too, I believe...
Mar 2, 2005
Horn-Tootin' Brenna
I don't like to toot my own horn (okay, sometimes I do, but I swear this isn't really one of them), but I got an e-mail the other day that has thrown me back into a state of confusion and doubt. The e-mail reads thus:
So... Just when I had given neurology up (partially because we still haven't gotten our grades back and I was not certain whether I had done well or terribly) I get a freaking recruiting e-mail! I didn't even know that people did that kind of thing. I can tell you that I don't think the pediatrics department does. Which wouldn't be necessary, anyway, as I spent the entire rotation in Cheerleader mode (aka Like me! Like me! Give me Honors! I'm Going into Peds Girl)
I would be much more appreciated in Neurology, that's for sure. What's a girl to do?
One thing I won't do: Obstetrics and/or Gynecology. I'm only on my third day of the rotation and it honestly is not going that terribly (we'll see if I'm singing a different tune after 'STD Clinic' at the health department tonight) but I just feel... wrong. Hairy.
There are two (female, of course) residents on Gyn-Oncology team that I'm on this week. Both are nice. But get this: their names are Cassie and Suzy. Cassie and Suzy. CASSIE and SUZY! Good grief.
Remember that episode of Scrubs? The one where the OB residents are trying to lure Elliot to join them? They are depicted as an ongoing slumber party type of girl. I know that Scrubs is one of the most accurate programs out there in terms of depicting medical training. But even I thought that perhaps they were exaggerating the OB/Gyn thing. Nope.
Cassie and Suzy!
I have never heard two residents giggle so much. Mostly when the attending is around. The male attending. The male attending who does not have a wedding ring on (could mean single, could mean doesn't wear ring). Giggling + male = Flirting. At least in my book. So, yes, these residents are FLIRTING with the attending. I never thought I'd see such a thing.
This is why I can't go into OB. Don't get me wrong, I can giggle with the best of them. I'm just generally not around patients when I do it.
Disclaimer: I am intending no harm to the above mentioned residents or attending. All are quite competent as physicians, and the patients seem to really enjoy them. The comments I made, though they may sound disparaging, are just my way of saying that I don't fit in. And you know how we all fight the unknown...
Hi Brenna,
have been thinking back on the good students on neurology in the past year and wanted to send out some random recruiting e-mails. What are you going to do with your life? Remember how fun neurology was?? Hint, hint.. You would be good at it. Please let me know what you are going to do as I am interested and if I can help you in any way whatever you choose to do, then please feel free to ask...
So... Just when I had given neurology up (partially because we still haven't gotten our grades back and I was not certain whether I had done well or terribly) I get a freaking recruiting e-mail! I didn't even know that people did that kind of thing. I can tell you that I don't think the pediatrics department does. Which wouldn't be necessary, anyway, as I spent the entire rotation in Cheerleader mode (aka Like me! Like me! Give me Honors! I'm Going into Peds Girl)
I would be much more appreciated in Neurology, that's for sure. What's a girl to do?
One thing I won't do: Obstetrics and/or Gynecology. I'm only on my third day of the rotation and it honestly is not going that terribly (we'll see if I'm singing a different tune after 'STD Clinic' at the health department tonight) but I just feel... wrong. Hairy.
There are two (female, of course) residents on Gyn-Oncology team that I'm on this week. Both are nice. But get this: their names are Cassie and Suzy. Cassie and Suzy. CASSIE and SUZY! Good grief.
Remember that episode of Scrubs? The one where the OB residents are trying to lure Elliot to join them? They are depicted as an ongoing slumber party type of girl. I know that Scrubs is one of the most accurate programs out there in terms of depicting medical training. But even I thought that perhaps they were exaggerating the OB/Gyn thing. Nope.
Cassie and Suzy!
I have never heard two residents giggle so much. Mostly when the attending is around. The male attending. The male attending who does not have a wedding ring on (could mean single, could mean doesn't wear ring). Giggling + male = Flirting. At least in my book. So, yes, these residents are FLIRTING with the attending. I never thought I'd see such a thing.
This is why I can't go into OB. Don't get me wrong, I can giggle with the best of them. I'm just generally not around patients when I do it.
Disclaimer: I am intending no harm to the above mentioned residents or attending. All are quite competent as physicians, and the patients seem to really enjoy them. The comments I made, though they may sound disparaging, are just my way of saying that I don't fit in. And you know how we all fight the unknown...
Feb 27, 2005
Land of the Perky
Yesterday afternoon, I was privileged enough to attend a wedding shower of a friend of mine from school that is getting married. (Thus the wedding shower... duh.) I've only ever really been to one wedding shower before - one peril of moving all over the country is that you are rarely there when your friends are getting married.
So, there I was, being all wedding-showery and cutesy and girly, when I had a sudden realization: I had, unknowingly, fallen in amongst the girls that drove me CRAZY in college. The cutesy, flirty, girly, cliquey, PERKY girls. There were no sororities at my college, but if there had been, these girls would have been the presidents and social directors. They were nice and all, but as a group, they were quite frightening. With enough energy to power the Twin Cities for days.
And there I was, smack dab in the middle of one of their wedding receptions.
It was okay, really, except that I felt hairy. Yes, that's right. Hairy. Interestingly, being around these cute petite girls doesn't make me feel huge and hulking like it should, it just makes me feel hairy. I realized, as I sat there during the Opening of Presents, that I hadn't even thought about plucking my eyebrows or shaving my legs in much more time than it takes for plucked/shaved hair to grow back.
So, today became Hair Removal Day. I plucked and I shaved. And the result? I am cut and swollen, and you can't even really tell the difference (except for the swelling and bleeding) because I have BLONDE hair.
But at least now I don't feel hairy!
So, there I was, being all wedding-showery and cutesy and girly, when I had a sudden realization: I had, unknowingly, fallen in amongst the girls that drove me CRAZY in college. The cutesy, flirty, girly, cliquey, PERKY girls. There were no sororities at my college, but if there had been, these girls would have been the presidents and social directors. They were nice and all, but as a group, they were quite frightening. With enough energy to power the Twin Cities for days.
And there I was, smack dab in the middle of one of their wedding receptions.
It was okay, really, except that I felt hairy. Yes, that's right. Hairy. Interestingly, being around these cute petite girls doesn't make me feel huge and hulking like it should, it just makes me feel hairy. I realized, as I sat there during the Opening of Presents, that I hadn't even thought about plucking my eyebrows or shaving my legs in much more time than it takes for plucked/shaved hair to grow back.
So, today became Hair Removal Day. I plucked and I shaved. And the result? I am cut and swollen, and you can't even really tell the difference (except for the swelling and bleeding) because I have BLONDE hair.
But at least now I don't feel hairy!
Feb 24, 2005
Angry Incompetence
As much as I liked my pediatrics rotation (which ends today - well, tomorrow really, after the tests), and as much as I liked the heme/onc week of it, let me tell you HOW relieved I was to leave today. Yesterday I briefly mentioned my 'less than confident' intern. Well, today, I think her head was about to implode.
EVERY little thing was stressing her out today. And when she didn't understand something, or didn't know the answer to a question, she just got louder. I swear, by the end of the day I needed ear plugs to protect my ears from permanent hearing loss. She just sounds angry. Loud, angry and confused.
Along with louder and possibly angrier, she'd get more frantic - stacking papers up, jumping from one thing to another. A question such as: "So-and-so is back from their test. Can they eat now?" was enough to make her jump out of her seat and run out of the room. I don't know why. The answer was clearly yes. Which is just as easily said while sitting calmly with nicely organized papers.
Sigh. Some people really worry me. Because, gentle readers, some day this woman will be a doctor. Wait. She IS a doctor. But some day she'll be off on her own, practicing medicine.
And do you really want to see some one who will hit the ceiling when you ask if your kid is ready to start eating solid foods?
Ahh, but I am too, too harsh. She has time yet to learn much more. Much, much more. But let me tell you this: I will NOT be that way.
Except, perhaps, on Tuesdays.
EVERY little thing was stressing her out today. And when she didn't understand something, or didn't know the answer to a question, she just got louder. I swear, by the end of the day I needed ear plugs to protect my ears from permanent hearing loss. She just sounds angry. Loud, angry and confused.
Along with louder and possibly angrier, she'd get more frantic - stacking papers up, jumping from one thing to another. A question such as: "So-and-so is back from their test. Can they eat now?" was enough to make her jump out of her seat and run out of the room. I don't know why. The answer was clearly yes. Which is just as easily said while sitting calmly with nicely organized papers.
Sigh. Some people really worry me. Because, gentle readers, some day this woman will be a doctor. Wait. She IS a doctor. But some day she'll be off on her own, practicing medicine.
And do you really want to see some one who will hit the ceiling when you ask if your kid is ready to start eating solid foods?
Ahh, but I am too, too harsh. She has time yet to learn much more. Much, much more. But let me tell you this: I will NOT be that way.
Except, perhaps, on Tuesdays.
Feb 23, 2005
Stamping Out Disease, part deux
Okay, they knock the little kiddie out, then they jam a needle thing-a-ma-bobby into his little hip. The needle is surprisingly not all that big. And it isn't really a needle like you'd picture a needle. More like a blue plastic toy contraption that has a two inch sharp metal piece sticking out of one end. I think the blue plastic part is for traction - it must be dang hard(ish) to jam a needle into bone.
Okay, Lindsay, get up off the floor now. I'll stop talking about bones and needles.
Alright. So, doctor gets bone marrow, nurse lady puts marrow into and on top of several different tubes and slides. Little kiddie is then woken up. Easy peasy, no? It is! The parents even stayed and watched.
I assumed my participation would end with the... Well, actually I didn't really participate per se in any of this. I was merely an observer. But, the attending did invite me to travel with her to the lab to check on the results.
Now, I did say that I didn't have the gold touch, but I do have to tell you that, in Medical Student Land, one-on-one time with an attending is tantamount to bushels of gold. Bushels! Especially when the attending is the clerkship director. ESPECIALLY when the attending is the clerkship director of pediatrics. Smashing!
I got a full half hour of walking around with Dr. Attending, asking thoughtful and relevant questions. All the while thinking "Ha! Someone to ask for a recommendation letter! She actually knows that my name is Brenna, not Brenda or 'that student' This is great. Sound smart, sound smart! And stop talking to yourself!!!"
Then, to top it all off, we went to look at the bone marrow smear of the adorable little two year old whose symptoms were all concerning for leukemia. And he didn't have it! He instead has something called Idiopathic (or Immune-mediated) Thrombocytopenia - ITP. 90% of kids with this recover pretty quickly without any problems.
Isn't that great? I think so.
To celebrate, I went home and had a processed cheese and pickle sandwich. With horseradish. It sounds like I'm pregnant, but I'm really just poor and haven't been grocery shopping for a while.
La di da!
HAPPY DAY AFTER YOUR BIRTHDAY, DAD!!! Way to go!
Okay, Lindsay, get up off the floor now. I'll stop talking about bones and needles.
Alright. So, doctor gets bone marrow, nurse lady puts marrow into and on top of several different tubes and slides. Little kiddie is then woken up. Easy peasy, no? It is! The parents even stayed and watched.
I assumed my participation would end with the... Well, actually I didn't really participate per se in any of this. I was merely an observer. But, the attending did invite me to travel with her to the lab to check on the results.
Now, I did say that I didn't have the gold touch, but I do have to tell you that, in Medical Student Land, one-on-one time with an attending is tantamount to bushels of gold. Bushels! Especially when the attending is the clerkship director. ESPECIALLY when the attending is the clerkship director of pediatrics. Smashing!
I got a full half hour of walking around with Dr. Attending, asking thoughtful and relevant questions. All the while thinking "Ha! Someone to ask for a recommendation letter! She actually knows that my name is Brenna, not Brenda or 'that student' This is great. Sound smart, sound smart! And stop talking to yourself!!!"
Then, to top it all off, we went to look at the bone marrow smear of the adorable little two year old whose symptoms were all concerning for leukemia. And he didn't have it! He instead has something called Idiopathic (or Immune-mediated) Thrombocytopenia - ITP. 90% of kids with this recover pretty quickly without any problems.
Isn't that great? I think so.
To celebrate, I went home and had a processed cheese and pickle sandwich. With horseradish. It sounds like I'm pregnant, but I'm really just poor and haven't been grocery shopping for a while.
La di da!
HAPPY DAY AFTER YOUR BIRTHDAY, DAD!!! Way to go!
Stamping Out Disease!
Putting aside for the moment that I am currently tired, hungry and bored and that no one seems to be feeling the compulsion to send me home (I need to study!!) becauss the upper level left and the intern here is... less than confident, I have had a pretty amazing day.
Not in the everything-I-touch-turns-to-gold-I-can-do-no-wrong-and-here's-my-winning-lottery-ticket way, but in the gee-that's-just-pretty-dang-freaking-cool-and-I-got-to-be-a-part-of-it way. [editorial note: typing with a lot of dashes instead of spaces is really hard]
A two year old presented to his peds office yesterday because he'd been bruising all over. He was sent to the heme/onc clinic here for work up. What is the most likely diagnosis with easy bruising (and oh yeah, toss in some petechiae and an enlarged spleen and low white blood cell count) All the little children say: Leukemia!
So, two year old (whose mother, by the way just had a baby a few months ago and is supposed to go back to work tomorrow) is admitted to the heme/onc service for a bone marrow aspirate. I, eager-beaver of a med student that I am, tagged along.
In the bone marrow aspirate, they start an IV and knock the little kiddie out, then
HA! I was sent home. I'll finish the story later.
BAM.
Not in the everything-I-touch-turns-to-gold-I-can-do-no-wrong-and-here's-my-winning-lottery-ticket way, but in the gee-that's-just-pretty-dang-freaking-cool-and-I-got-to-be-a-part-of-it way. [editorial note: typing with a lot of dashes instead of spaces is really hard]
A two year old presented to his peds office yesterday because he'd been bruising all over. He was sent to the heme/onc clinic here for work up. What is the most likely diagnosis with easy bruising (and oh yeah, toss in some petechiae and an enlarged spleen and low white blood cell count) All the little children say: Leukemia!
So, two year old (whose mother, by the way just had a baby a few months ago and is supposed to go back to work tomorrow) is admitted to the heme/onc service for a bone marrow aspirate. I, eager-beaver of a med student that I am, tagged along.
In the bone marrow aspirate, they start an IV and knock the little kiddie out, then
HA! I was sent home. I'll finish the story later.
BAM.
Feb 18, 2005
Diabetes, Schmiabetes
1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the sentence in your journal along with these instructions.
5. Don’t search around and look for the “coolest” book you can find. Do what’s actually next to you.
"Patients commonly present with polyuria (including nocturia), polydipsia, polyphagia, and rapid or unexplained weight loss."
From First Aid for the USMLE Step 2
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the sentence in your journal along with these instructions.
5. Don’t search around and look for the “coolest” book you can find. Do what’s actually next to you.
"Patients commonly present with polyuria (including nocturia), polydipsia, polyphagia, and rapid or unexplained weight loss."
From First Aid for the USMLE Step 2
Feb 16, 2005
It Be Done!
Two things are done:
1. I'm done with call for peds, and after our ONE admission last night, I have a grand total of 3 patients that I admitted/saw while I was on call. Two of the interns I worked with woke up the next morning (after an almost page-less night) and called it their 'best call ever.' They call me a white cloud. Somehow, I think I annoyed my upper level, though, who I've never been on call with and who keeps having the world's WORST calls ever. While I'm happy to bring the white cloudness, I fear that it may backfire on me, and I'll develop a big ol' black cloud while I'm a resident... Time will tell.
2. My Valentine's CD! I 'finished' it the other night, but as I'd only put in 6 or so hours of work into it, it just didn't feel right. I listened to the prelim CD on my way home from Susan's (my computer is having more identity issues and doesn't seem to believe that it has a D drive, so I'm borrowing Susan's), and I just shook my head and said NONONO! It was not right. Usually I spend MONTHS planning the perfect Valentine's CD. (Usually, too, I was supposed to be studying and found searching for the perfect song much more rewarding.) Anyway, I think I've fixed it all today, and finally can breathe a sigh of relief for a job well done. And this version won't leave people despondent and suicidal at the end. (KEY: If you choose to include depressing songs - sandwich them with happy ones!)
All that said: who wants a CD? Let me know. I have a list in my head, and if you read this and I know you, you're probably on it. But, heck, even if I don't know you - if you want a CD, let me know. I love to spread musical joydom.
ONWARD! I have a Career Planning Seminar tonight. I'm pretty dead-set on peds, but I want to see what this thing is all about. Plus, free dinner. Yum!
1. I'm done with call for peds, and after our ONE admission last night, I have a grand total of 3 patients that I admitted/saw while I was on call. Two of the interns I worked with woke up the next morning (after an almost page-less night) and called it their 'best call ever.' They call me a white cloud. Somehow, I think I annoyed my upper level, though, who I've never been on call with and who keeps having the world's WORST calls ever. While I'm happy to bring the white cloudness, I fear that it may backfire on me, and I'll develop a big ol' black cloud while I'm a resident... Time will tell.
2. My Valentine's CD! I 'finished' it the other night, but as I'd only put in 6 or so hours of work into it, it just didn't feel right. I listened to the prelim CD on my way home from Susan's (my computer is having more identity issues and doesn't seem to believe that it has a D drive, so I'm borrowing Susan's), and I just shook my head and said NONONO! It was not right. Usually I spend MONTHS planning the perfect Valentine's CD. (Usually, too, I was supposed to be studying and found searching for the perfect song much more rewarding.) Anyway, I think I've fixed it all today, and finally can breathe a sigh of relief for a job well done. And this version won't leave people despondent and suicidal at the end. (KEY: If you choose to include depressing songs - sandwich them with happy ones!)
All that said: who wants a CD? Let me know. I have a list in my head, and if you read this and I know you, you're probably on it. But, heck, even if I don't know you - if you want a CD, let me know. I love to spread musical joydom.
ONWARD! I have a Career Planning Seminar tonight. I'm pretty dead-set on peds, but I want to see what this thing is all about. Plus, free dinner. Yum!
Feb 14, 2005
I'd Rather Be Reading Jane Austen
I believe you belong in Pride and Prejudice; a
world of satire and true love. A world where
everything is crystal clear to the reader, and
yet where new things seem to be happening all
the time. You belong in a world where your
free-thought puts you above the silly masses,
and where bright eyes and intelligence are
enough to attract the arrogant
millionaire/prejudiced young woman of your
choice.
Which Classic Novel do You Belong In?
brought to you by Quizilla
HVD!
When you put Happy Valentine's Day into an acronym, it sounds kind of like an infectious disease. Huh.
HAPPY HEART DAY ONE AND ALL. Much love to all the peeps out there - family, friends, teachers, patients, people who sell me coffee... all those near and dear!
On another note, I've declared today to be National Stair/Stare Day! What happens on NS/SD? Let me elucidate: Today, all day, you either 1. take the stairs whenever you are moving from one floor to another or 2. Stare at someone on the elevator as you move from one floor to another.
I've generally been choosing "stair," and man! eight flights is a lot! Especially after lunch. But I'm not too keen on being that weird girl who is staring at everone on the elevator. But thems the rules, people, I didn't make them up. (oh, wait...I did...)
HVD and NS/SD!!!
HAPPY HEART DAY ONE AND ALL. Much love to all the peeps out there - family, friends, teachers, patients, people who sell me coffee... all those near and dear!
On another note, I've declared today to be National Stair/Stare Day! What happens on NS/SD? Let me elucidate: Today, all day, you either 1. take the stairs whenever you are moving from one floor to another or 2. Stare at someone on the elevator as you move from one floor to another.
I've generally been choosing "stair," and man! eight flights is a lot! Especially after lunch. But I'm not too keen on being that weird girl who is staring at everone on the elevator. But thems the rules, people, I didn't make them up. (oh, wait...I did...)
HVD and NS/SD!!!
Feb 13, 2005
Slow Motion Day
Yesterday, being the proactive person that I (sometimes) am, I made a schedule for today. It looked like this:
9-12: Study at Panera
12-2: Laundry and bills
2-4: YMCA, shower, etc.
4-11: Chill
Here's what has happened so far:
9-12: Sleeping. Every once in a while waking up, with a bad stomach ache
12-2: Up, lunch, watching TV, trying to make stomach ache go away
2-3: Shower, dress
3-3:30: Go to Panera to study, realize that their internet isn't working, leave
3:30-4: Come to school to study, mess around on the internet
Somehow, I haven't even made it onto my schedule for the day! I decided to no work out because my stomach still hurts - I blame it on my diet over the last few days. (Diet here meaning 'the food I've eaten' rather than 'an attempt to reduce caloric intake and improve health')
Sigh. I don't really feel like studying, but I figure I ought to do at least ONE thing from my list. I still do intend to do laundry. And bills. Eventually...
I'm in the Fishbowl right now, because all the private study areas are taken. This place is crawling with little first and second years... They must have a test or something coming up. It is weird to be back in here after so long. To think I used to practically live here! Thank goodness for change.
But right now, to make myself feel a bit better, I'm going to Google people that I didn't like in High School. Tee-hee! It always makes me feel good to find no references to them... Like they don't exist.
9-12: Study at Panera
12-2: Laundry and bills
2-4: YMCA, shower, etc.
4-11: Chill
Here's what has happened so far:
9-12: Sleeping. Every once in a while waking up, with a bad stomach ache
12-2: Up, lunch, watching TV, trying to make stomach ache go away
2-3: Shower, dress
3-3:30: Go to Panera to study, realize that their internet isn't working, leave
3:30-4: Come to school to study, mess around on the internet
Somehow, I haven't even made it onto my schedule for the day! I decided to no work out because my stomach still hurts - I blame it on my diet over the last few days. (Diet here meaning 'the food I've eaten' rather than 'an attempt to reduce caloric intake and improve health')
Sigh. I don't really feel like studying, but I figure I ought to do at least ONE thing from my list. I still do intend to do laundry. And bills. Eventually...
I'm in the Fishbowl right now, because all the private study areas are taken. This place is crawling with little first and second years... They must have a test or something coming up. It is weird to be back in here after so long. To think I used to practically live here! Thank goodness for change.
But right now, to make myself feel a bit better, I'm going to Google people that I didn't like in High School. Tee-hee! It always makes me feel good to find no references to them... Like they don't exist.
Feb 11, 2005
Friday!
I made it! It's officially my thirteenth day in a row. But tomorrow I GET TO SLEEP IN. I'm so happy I could cry.
Oh, yeah, and I'm going to the circus tonight!! What a fantastic day!
Oh, yeah, and I'm going to the circus tonight!! What a fantastic day!
Feb 8, 2005
PMS, a Primer
Assuming that half the world is of the male variety, and that a good number of women manage to control their hormonal ups-and-downs, I believe that I can safely say that more than half of the world does not personally know what PMS is like.
Folks, I am here to educate you.
Lesson One: When you're PMS-y, things annoy you more. Things like... drivers, traffic lights, girls on the elliptical trainer next to you at the Y talking really loud on their cell phone, old men on the elliptical trainer in front of you sweating buckets all over the floor, residents who smile too much, residents who talk too much, unit secretaries who won't answer your questions, and basically just... people.
Lesson Two: When you're PMS-y, you get teary at more things. Things like... little kids, patriotism, sports events, people being happy, people being sad, being tired, being frustrated, reallity television.
Lesson Three: When you're PMS-y, you say things you didn't even realize you were thinking. Usually kind of mean things. And usually when you're annoyed (see Lesson One).
That's enough for now. Maybe I'll write more later, but MAN The Amazing Race is FREAKING me out.
Folks, I am here to educate you.
Lesson One: When you're PMS-y, things annoy you more. Things like... drivers, traffic lights, girls on the elliptical trainer next to you at the Y talking really loud on their cell phone, old men on the elliptical trainer in front of you sweating buckets all over the floor, residents who smile too much, residents who talk too much, unit secretaries who won't answer your questions, and basically just... people.
Lesson Two: When you're PMS-y, you get teary at more things. Things like... little kids, patriotism, sports events, people being happy, people being sad, being tired, being frustrated, reallity television.
Lesson Three: When you're PMS-y, you say things you didn't even realize you were thinking. Usually kind of mean things. And usually when you're annoyed (see Lesson One).
That's enough for now. Maybe I'll write more later, but MAN The Amazing Race is FREAKING me out.
Feb 5, 2005
Back Where I Belong
Well, maybe anyway.
For the first time in over three months, I'm back on an inpatient service. It is easy to forget how different things are. I am on peds inpatient now, which is cool since I've decided that this is what I'm going to do with my life.
Today, however, I'm on call. And it is Saturday. And it is beautiful outside. And it is overnight call, so I'm here until tomorrow. And I have to be back on Monday, which means I'll be working twelve days straight by the time I reach next Friday. AND I'm having an 'I Feel Stupid' Day.
It started because I had no idea what to do this morning. I eventually got to the right place (not late, either), but everyone was SO grumpy! Even a fellow student who I have never, EVER seen even remotely CLOSE to being grumpy before. My team (of which I was the only one present at that time) got chastised for not keeping the list up to date. Then the upper level who had been on call proceeded to bash all of her fellow residents, most of whom I think are wonderful people.
Anyway, that just starts the day off on a bad note.
And then, I didn't have a red sheet done, I didn't know (still don't) what Bicitra is/does, and I just feel all-around incompetent. And this is going to last until tomorrow morning! ACK!
Sigh. Back to doing something... smart-seeming.
Why anyone is letting me be a doctor, I'll never know... Beware!!
(Ha-ha, not really! I'm sure I'll be feeling relatively smart again at some point...)
For the first time in over three months, I'm back on an inpatient service. It is easy to forget how different things are. I am on peds inpatient now, which is cool since I've decided that this is what I'm going to do with my life.
Today, however, I'm on call. And it is Saturday. And it is beautiful outside. And it is overnight call, so I'm here until tomorrow. And I have to be back on Monday, which means I'll be working twelve days straight by the time I reach next Friday. AND I'm having an 'I Feel Stupid' Day.
It started because I had no idea what to do this morning. I eventually got to the right place (not late, either), but everyone was SO grumpy! Even a fellow student who I have never, EVER seen even remotely CLOSE to being grumpy before. My team (of which I was the only one present at that time) got chastised for not keeping the list up to date. Then the upper level who had been on call proceeded to bash all of her fellow residents, most of whom I think are wonderful people.
Anyway, that just starts the day off on a bad note.
And then, I didn't have a red sheet done, I didn't know (still don't) what Bicitra is/does, and I just feel all-around incompetent. And this is going to last until tomorrow morning! ACK!
Sigh. Back to doing something... smart-seeming.
Why anyone is letting me be a doctor, I'll never know... Beware!!
(Ha-ha, not really! I'm sure I'll be feeling relatively smart again at some point...)
Feb 2, 2005
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