Give and Take

Ahem. Long-winded melodramatic depression ahead!
Well. There's really no other way to say it except I really f*ed up. It was sort of confirmation of one of my fears- that I am a selfish person. Relationships are supposed to be a give and take balance, and I think it's about putting the other person first. And it's a concept I have forgotten for a while. Relationships are never easy, but long-distance makes it so much more difficult. I would rarely use skype and all the other new tech gadgets that should make long-distance relationships easier. A five year relationship ended, and it wasn't until yesterday that I really understood why. And it's one of those face-palming instances where I can't believe I was so stupid and didn't see what I was doing. I have no idea how it took me so long to see how selfish I was. I would mostly complain about my day and the daily stresses during each phone call without really listening to him and his life. I've done the listening without really taking it all in, which I've seen and experienced with others this year, and it's annoying. I don't know how he could stand it for so long. I got so wrapped up in studying and the draining life of the hospital I put in virtually no effort into our relationship, and my poor significant other gave up trying to make me see our downward spiral. And now of course, it's too late to fix or start over. I haven't given him a reason to want to start over. 

It's frustrating to experience the classic case of "you never know what you have until it's gone." And I know I did this to myself. What's also frustrating is looking at the road I've traveled the past 6 months during the start of my third year and seeing how I got here. I understand how I became so selfish- the hours at the hospital are spent in a near-constant panic of trying to impress everyone around me, and learn as much as I can, and of course, attempt to help patients and make the physician's lives easier. Being at the bottom of the medical hierarchy is not easy. Every time I have an understanding and patient patient (hehe patient patient!) I am so incredibly grateful, and thankfully this is the more common situation. But the few that do nothing but complain and yell ruin things for me. I was almost reduced to tears by one particular person who was upset with the care he was getting and the fact that I was not allowed to relinquish my notes. Getting yelled at and being called nothing but "medical student" all day has made me frustrated and angry, and occasionally bitter. It's made me rethink my career choice more than once. And the sad thing is that I can see the change it's made in some of my friends and classmates too. I've seen some of my most mild-mannered friends start swearing and cussing while recalling some of the unfair situations they have been thrust into. I can relate, and the frustrations are warranted, but it's surprising to see the shift in personalities after a mere five months.

Now don't get me wrong. As much as I complain, I do most of the time enjoy what I am doing. Talking to patients and trying to manage patient health is interesting and rewarding. I do think that I like what I am doing once I start to get the hang of things. I just sometimes question whether it is worth all the stress and tears and the strain it has put on my social life and sanity, especially when I have patients and other physicians yelling at me for things out of my control. As a highly anxious person sometimes I wonder if my heart is going to give out by the age of 50 or something from all the stress. 

But with the second semester starting, I think that the worst of the rotations are behind me and I can move forward. And understanding my many faults now, I can only hope that I remember this all in the distant future and not repeat my mistakes. I just wish the cost wasn't so high.

On a completely unrelated note, to make this not seem quite so depressing and melodramatic, does this new Gucci logo thing look like the Batman sign to anyone else?

courtesy of Google

Ok, scratch that, somebody else has made the connection:

(also courtesy of Google images, cheezburger.com)
Glad I'm not totally insane. Yet :) I really don't get perfume or cologne ads.

Generation Gap

One of the nice things obviously about coming home for the holidays is seeing family. Not just because of the terrific food, although that could be a main reason all by itself, but because of the hilarious things that comes up when my family and I talk about random things.
A couple of days ago was one such occasion. My sister was telling me about a trip she took with my parents to DC and Pittsburgh, and she mentioned not being able to take a picture of Fonzie's jacket. I, of course, was clueless. Who the heck is Fonzie? I asked my sister just that, and said I thought it was a muppet. (I was, by the way, thinking of the muppet Fozzie, who naturally my mom didn't recognize). My mom was highly shocked, and told me he was Henry Winkler. "Who's that? Is he an actor?" I asked. My mom replied with an indignant "Of course!" She then, tech savvy mom that she is, immediately pulled up a picture on her iPad. My sister and I don't recognize him though.

Another generation gap episode occurred yesterday while my sister and I were trying to do Sunday's King crossword puzzle. One of the clues was " _____ loves Chachi." I figured it out based on the movie Dodgeball, because at some point Ben Stiller mocks one of the other people (sorry, can't remember who- I think it was the Russian lady and the really shy guy) saying "Joanie loves Chachi!" Mom had no idea what Dodgeball was, but she did remember some spinoff of Happy Days, one of those old TV sitcoms that my sister and I have never watched. Definitely a bit of a generation gap between my mom and me and my sister, but it makes for interesting crossword puzzles and conversation starters. :)

The Many Shades of Gray- Just Not Fifty, Please

I recently read a slightly ridiculous article talking about dating a girl vs. dating a woman. But one of the points made was about a girl seeing in black and white whereas a woman understands that there are shades of gray. And that I have to agree with, although I don't like it.

I unfortunately think I'm still in the girl category in this area. I've come to realize how everything is in the gray area, and it's how much white and how much black and how much you care about the gradient that affects everything. I wish things were clear. This is right. This is wrong. No ifs, ands, or buts. But pretty much nothing is clear cut. Murder is wrong. But what if you killed someone in the heat of the moment who was definitely going to kill you or someone you loved? Yes, legally that's not murder but someone still died because of your actions. Is that wrong? Good question. Gray area ahead!

But moral dilemmas aside, the world is always in some shade of gray, and it's frustrating. Call me immature, but right now in this point of my life I prefer living in the girl world. I want the easy decisions. This is what you should do and should not. Getting out of a relationship after 5 years has definitely not been easy. But even that has been full of the hard questions. What went wrong? Is there even a who's right and who's wrong? Is this something worth fighting for? I have no idea anymore.

One of the physicians said that as doctors, we get paid to make the hard decisions. The ones where the diagnosis isn't certain and definitely not black and white. At the time it didn't bother me, but now after 6 months in the hospitals, I see the weight of those decisions. I've had the unfortunate experience of having a patient I was seeing every day pass away and watch some of the residents wonder if we made the right decisions in his care along the way. I think growing up means seeing the world not as black and white anymore and coming to terms with that. It does make me miss the carefree days of a few years back, when in undergrad I still had that invincible feeling, where responsibilities were present but few. Being officially in my mid-twenties now definitely puts me in the adult category. It has its perks, but I'm still trying to deal with the not-so-fun responsibilities. Just as long as the murky unknown doesn't play out like a certain awkward "romance" novel- although I don't know how any of that premise could truly end up happening in real life- I guess it's golden.

Pecan Pie Pringles

Last night I was hanging out with my friends for a birthday extravaganza (ie Korean BBQ and Chinese hot pot potluck) and about 10 of us got into a very heated discussion. About pringles. Pecan pie pringles, to be exact.

It is a limited edition flavor, and one girl brought it along. And then debate ensued. I'm talking shouting, laughing, lots of hand gestures and a whole lot of awkward faces. I wish I could have recorded it. Pecan pie pringles is very interesting, to say the least. While one guy said it was unexpected (and hence, disgusting- I think most of the guys stated they would never ever have another), I actually have to say, with a name like Pecan Pie flavor, it is sort of expected, but still not exactly pleasant. I'm pretty neutral about the flavor. You bite into it and you get the crunch, and then you get the sweetness. Again, with a name of pecan pie, you should expect it to be sweet, like desert right? So I would say it's expected that it tastes sweet. It kind of tastes like crunchy maple syrup. Which I think sounds better than it is. Mostly because you expect chips to be salty, so when they taste like maple syrup, it's just awkward, which is why I think most of the people there found the chips to be disgusting.
The arguments people game up with for and against these chips were quite hilarious though, spanning whether limited edition flavors/foods were because they were too good to have all the time or because they are a horrific failure to the Pringles motto of "once you pop the fun don't stop" and how because of the pleasant aftertaste of the chips you had to follow the Pringles motto and continuously eat the chips because the initial bite is disgusting but the aftertaste was good so you have to keep popping those chips to stay in aftertaste mode.
As weird as it sounds, the most exciting thing about arguing about Pringles was that for once, we were excited about something either than medicine. As medical students, our lives are now about the hospital, our rotations, interesting patients (the good and bad and how much they yell at us) and how ridiculously clueless we feel pretty much all the time. So when someone asks, "how's it going?" that's pretty much all we have to talk about. So it was actually quite refreshing to talk about something non-medicine related, although I think admittedly we went a little overboard, literally yelling for half an hour about chips, of all things.
But back to the topic, Pecan Pie Pringles. Above all else, I think it definitely wins for weirdest flavor, in a not so great way. And this is coming from a Canadian, where we have some weird flavors up there. But those I would say are weird in a good way. All Dressed Chips cannot be beat. Pecan Pie Pringles? Definitely can be, by pretty much any other flavor. But maybe you should be the judge.

Confessions of a (Window) Shopaholic

Like probably a majority of women out there, I have a slight *ahem maybe not so slight* addiction to shopping. Yes, I'm afraid I could be classified as a shopaholic. However, there is a slight twist to my madness, which might be considered better or worse than your typical shopaholic, depending on how you look at it. I would say I'm a window shopaholic because I don't really buy a whole lot of what I look at. How much you say? Well honestly, I've never really done any of this "hauling" women post videos and pictures of themselves doing. Except for perhaps this Labor day, since I realized I did indeed post one such picture. Whoops, I guess you could add hypocrite to my list of faults too. But in all honestly, I rarely buy tons of thins in one go, save groceries/essentials. Even black friday as of late has been very quiet. A few clothes here and there, some of which would be gifts, and a few DVDs. Part of this may be the fact that I've slowly transferred my wardrobe into a more "adult" style and so there is less to buy, the fact that I'm not around my sister much being in a different city, and probably the most prominent factor, which is that I've basically got negative income being in school. 

So while I may not buy an extreme amount, I make up for it by window shopping. A lot. It's been made a whole lot easier too with the lovely internet. I'll spend hours (yes, I know I should spend it studying and I'd be doing so much better, dangit!) surfing the sites, ogling at things I'd love to buy if they were on sale or if I had the money or if I would use it. And then I'd sit there for hours more trying to convince myself to either just suck it up and buy it or that I wouldn't use it enough/have no use for it. It'll be a constant internal battle, and usually the don't buy it/cheap side of me wins out. But only after many hours. And plenty of times I will still just window shop the same object. For example, I've staked out the same green J Crew necklace on Ebay for well over a month, just seeing if it's still there. So while my wallet isn't getting damaged by my little shopaholic tendencies (which reminds me--I actually need a new wallet. Gah!), I waste an unfortunately large amount of time window shopping. 

I suppose the only good thing about it is that at least window shopping doesn't put me into horrendous debt like the character of the novels :)

Single and (Not) Ready to Mingle

Apparently I'm a lover of the status quo. I love getting into a routine, and when forced to break it, I am not a happy camper. Similarly, once I have my mind set on something, whether it be something simple like what I want to watch on TV right now or what to eat for dinner, the thought of deviating away from it makes me cranky.
Similarly, after being in a relationship for 5 years, I feel jarred from my routine and it's frustrating. Being in a long-distance relationship meant phone calls and a lack of dates so in all honesty for the most part the days don't feel all that different from before, with the exception of a lack of a few phone calls a week. But it's still a weird feeling to not be able to share the few random details of your life with someone, to vent or share excitement over the few roadbumps or successes of med school life. I never realized how much I depended on that. I don't quite know how to throw that switch from 'dating' to 'not dating'. 
I think one of the things that still being in school and being thrown into rotations is learning how to adapt, and adapt quickly. It's something I've always hated, but at least it's being put to good use and not just for the professional life. And at the very least, it's good to have a distraction, even if it's getting yelled at by frustrating patients or feeling completely clueless when being asked for the mechanism of delirium tremens. 

Hello Hockey Season!

The beginning of October marked a long but exciting time of the year: hockey season. It's something I always look forward to, even though my poor hockey team has been pathetic in the recent seasons. However, although only 8 games in the Avalanche are looking pretty good, although I don't want to jinx it.
I think it's the Canadian girl in me that I love hockey so much. When I was younger, my dad would occasionally get a pair of tickets through work, and so my sister and I would alternate turns getting to go with my dad. The last time I went to a game with my dad in Calgary we bought my sister a Flames flag and we actually got on the jumbotron. Instead of being a typical fan and smiling and waving for the camera, I ignored it and purposely looked away. I'm not entirely sure my reasoning behind that, I think perhaps it just freaked me out.
I have to attribute my true passion for the sport to my sister though. Like most other things in life, I think I got it from her, watching the games every other day with her on TV. We would scream at the TV when the avs were losing, calling out the unfair calls and celebrate the amazing goals. Hockey is one of the things I'm truly passionate about. I always remember one of my classmates in high school told me once that he got into hockey because of me and because I was always so excited about it. It's the one sport that I can talk to guys about and hold my own and I love talking hockey- the good teams, the players, playoffs, you name it. Although I can only watch hockey at home now, I still diligently check up on scores and updates on nhl.com for all my favorite teams- Colorado, Calgary, Toronto and Pittsburgh. And although I love checking in daily, it probably isn't so great for study productivity, but it's one of my guilty pleasures that I don't want to give up. And with the Avalanche looking good so far, it's looking to be a great and hopefully long hockey season :)

On a Surgery High

It's almost 9, and I should technically be sleeping now (or very soon) to get up before 4, but I'm on such a high right now. It's been one of the few moments this school year where I really, truly felt like I was on my way to becoming a doctor. Most of the time I've been in a overwhelmed, bewildered state rushing around but today I could (mostly) correctly figure out who to take care of my patient post-operatively and even got to close my first incision thanks to an amazingly kind surgeon.

Surgery is a very intense 8 weeks, and I've heard enough horror stories to be wary about the rotation before it even began. I have to say that after 5 weeks it hasn't quite been as bad as I expected. I daresay I've even enjoyed it. But one of the more frustrating things about this rotation is the lack of hands on experience you get. During my first four weeks, "scrubbing in" to surgeries was little more than standing a little closer to the patient table, and although I didn't have to do any heavy lifting like I expected, it was not exactly what I call interesting, although I did work with some nice and awesome physicians (for the most part). But after four weeks of pediatrics and little kids, I was looking to actually do more, even if it meant achy arms from holding abdomens open. So far however, I have still been doing little. My arms are thankful for sure, but I had to admit, terrified as I am of doing things wrong, I was looking forward to suturing more and mastering the dreadful subcuticular stitch. 

I have the "left-handed curse" as one attending physician told me as I attempted to stitch for the first time before leaving me at the table very panicked. Although I had some help by a resident physician, I was still pretty unsuccessful, only managing to get one stitch completed. Today though, I was at the end of the day and we had wrapped up the surgeries for our team. But one kindly, elderly plastic surgeon was there to finish up the case (a breast mastectomy) to do some reconstruction, and since I was only observing the first part, he invited me to help him out. There's no way to deny a physician, so I agreed to scrub in even though I knew it would mean a very late day when I should have been getting out early, but he was by far the nicest surgeon I had encountered thus far. And I was rewarded with my first successful subcuticular stitch closure. It's left me with such a high and sense of pride. It's such a little thing, but having someone so patient and encouraging teaching me today made me feel like I was doing something right and actually well for a change. It really reminds me of Grey's Anatomy, especially because it's surgery. I only watched the first couple seasons before it turned into soap opera craziness, but every time I'm running to catch up with my friends at the end of the day in my white coat or I'm left with such a high after a success or watching a crazy surgery like a whipple, I can't help but feel like I'm living the show- though thankfully without the overly excessive drama and sex. It's pretty cool.

On a side note, the physician asked me today if my mom was a "tiger mom" because I said she forced me to learn how to use chopsticks right handed even though I do everything else left handed. It was quite hilarious. Even though my mom was strict about learning my math and academics, she never forced us to learn piano and violin and learn three languages. I can't even understand Chinese. Thus I'm thinking there's no way my mom would qualify. I think my mom would crack up if I told her that of all the things she did or didn't do for me and my sister, chopsticks is what was used to label her a tiger mom :)

The only sad thing about the excitingness of surgery is the insanely long hours, and having to get up when some people are just going to sleep. Which means unless I want to fall asleep at the table tomorrow, the blogging's going to have to come to an end until the next surgery rush- which will probably come from a coincidental sugar rush from scarfing as much food as I can before surgery. Goodnight world! 

Oooh Baby It's Like Downtown

Last week I had a lecture on shock, and the lecturer was hilarious. He was one of those people who made sure to keep you on your toes, and asked everyone questions. But he was truly gifted at making sure you didn't feel bad if you didn't know the answer, which I find is a rarity. As a "friendly guy from Chicago" he had rather interesting sayings, like saying "Ooh baby it's like downtown" whenever a treatment works effectively. It's probably a phrase that's going to stick with me forever.

I'm right in the middle of probably the worst two weeks. Finishing up on pediatric surgery was pretty interesting and I was finally able to see some unique pediatric surgeries, but the hours were really long. Not to mention having to scramble to put together a case presentation for today at the last minute, which was so stressful it gave my friend and me cramps and mini panic attacks for the entire day. Add that to overnight call tomorrow, and basically we're working 13 days straight, although Saturday night and Sunday morning isn't too bad hopefully. And yet I'm so relieved after getting that presentation over with I feel almost invincible. Which is a good feeling considering I just ran over a tree branch with my tire and I'm a little worried I've got yet another flat tire. :( Hopefully not. But right now I feel so happy it's like downtown.

So I May Have a Little Addiction

It's 9:30pm in the middle of the week when I normally should be sleeping, but thanks to a well-timed "resident's retreat," and a fortunate patient load, I get tomorrow morning off, meaning there's no need to try to sleep at 8:30- a major miracle, especially since Wednesdays are supposed to be a long day- 5am to 7pm.
So far surgery has not been nearly as bad as I expected. Yes, getting up early is still an unfortunate reality, but I did get most of the long weekend off, and I get random days off in the middle of the week too if I take call. However, as a result of having the lovely weekend off, I may or may not have, ahem, spent a little money. Window shopping and shopping in general sort of got the best of me, and I caved in.

Labor day goodies

Although I am proud to say that every single thing I got was on sale and I could justify most of my items, they were still what I put into the category of "fluff". I went out with some clear goals in mind, such as buying myself a stress-reduction workbook with the hopes that I would be able to try to focus my time better in the loads of free time that I have (note sarcasm) and some extra work appropriate clothes, since Old Navy was having a decent sale. Although honestly I think I probably have more than enough tops now, probably did even before I went shopping. Whoops. I bought them with the feeling that I could just return them within 90 days if I felt I didn't have to have them, but of course, now lazy me is thinking I probably won't return anything because it's too much effort. Those were the clear things I wanted, but of course, in shopping the sales there were plenty of other cute things on sale. I popped into Bath and Body Works, where I generally never go, and bought a cute fox and bunch of little antibacterial hand lotions, and got a nice big bottle of free lotion. Probably don't need any of it, but I always feel like I want hand sanitizer in my car especially after checking tire pressure etc and I never have any! So of course I was thinking, if I just buy it then I can have some for my car, some for my purse, some for sitting in my desk and I get my hands dirty. And especially with a cute fox holding my hand sanitizer, I couldn't go wrong! Have I used any of it? Nope. Gah. May need to return.

My second trip(s) were to Barnes and Noble. I bought my stress book that I had staked out from the week before but I love browsing book stores. Especially since Barnes and Noble has lots of cool items besides books. I spent a good half hour eyeing all the pretty journals and planners. Call me a weirdo but I just love looking at journals and notebooks and planners. They're all so pretty. I think it's like a weird addiction or something. If I had the extra money I would buy some since they are just gorgeous. But I have nothing to put in them! I bought a couple journals at Target a couple years back because I couldn't resist- and of course, they're blank. Nothing to put in them, and I hate to mar the pages with gobbledegook. Ditto with a planner. I always used to buy them for school- of course you needed a planner! And even in the beginning of college I would still buy them, because I used to be one of those huge nerds who loved school supplies for some odd reason. I'd use them diligently for the first month or so, and then I would just stop writing assignments in them. 

http://img1.imagesbn.com/p/9780594516408_p0_v1_s600.JPG (Barnes and Noble). Just look at it- isn't it so pretty? If I could get myself to diligently plan and write in it, I would get this in a heartbeat.

If I could somehow think of what to fill up journals with, I'd buy so many. But seeing as how the few I have just sit around unused, I can't really justify buying any more of them.

The other things I love looking at at Barnes and Nobles is the toys/games. And the Pop Funko figures. They're just so freaking adorable. I bought a spiderman for my boyfriend, and a rock star Hello Kitty for my sister. They have so many cute ones- Disney characters and Star Wars, superheroes, TV characters, you name they've probably got it. When I saw the minions I just couldn't help myself. It's totally unnecessary I know, but seeing my little happy minion just makes me smile, and I figured, after working 12+ hours a day, seeing something that makes me smile continuously cannot be a bad thing. So with my second B&N coupon, I just had to pick up the last little minion on the shelf. Although it's probably the most unnecessary thing I picked up, it's also the one item I will not consider returning.

While most people use retail therapy to relax themselves and feel better, for me it's only a temporary relief. I love shopping and window shopping, but after I spend the money, 9 times out of 10 I end up feeling guilty for spending money when I realistically shouldn't be. I have no income and technically am chilling on lots of loans. But as my boyfriend says, I should just spend a little bit to make me happy now.

If only I could stop wasting time obsessing over journals I will probably never write in if bought I could be more productive and give surgery the attention it needs. Procrastination is of course, way more fun though. But I guess now it's time to stare at my minion and get back to hitting the books.

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My Confession

8 weeks have officially gone by since the start of the year, and I have finished 2 rotations, though granted they are the two easiest of this semester- neurology and emergency medicine. Next up is surgery, and I confess I am scared shitless. I have heard of the insane hours- coming in at 4:30 to talk to your patients before presenting their cases some hours later and leaving around 6 or 7, with some overnights thrown in between. 

This, plus the fact that I suspect I have some anxiety problems could make for a somewhat rough 2 months. I'm sure that everyone is anxious to some degree, no matter what they do, and it is probable that in medical school this is heightened. We're supposed to be learning how to make decisions that are affecting the well-being of people's lives, and there will be times in our careers where these will be life and death decisions. Obviously I'm just starting out so I don't have the experience needed, but there have been times in the ED where I chalked up someone's illness as something mild and they actually ended up having something much more serious. To say whoops would be an understatement. I know that as the months and years go by of learning these will be things to pick up on, but it still scares me. I'm not sure I can deal with that pressure, which is sort of silly because I knew going into school that that's what I would be choosing to do for the next 40 years. Just a mere 5 years ago I was excited, looking forward to it. Now that I see what it's like, I'm not so sure. I have to admit, sometimes I long for being back in pokey North Chicago where driving isn't intense, learning out of the classroom amidst all my friends. It was safer. I do like seeing the patients-if I didn't then I would definitely be in the wrong profession- but I'm still almost constantly confused. Normal, I know, but it still bugs me.

I'm not trying to say I wish I didn't go to medical school or I no longer want to become a physician. I think it's more along the lines of me looking a little far ahead and realizing that in 2 years, I will start having more and more responsibility, and I will be calling some shots in the near future. It's cool but frightening. And then cue in the anxiety.

I think I've always been an anxious person by nature. I freak out at the smallest things- spending hours planning and re-planning even simple tasks such as running to the store for groceries, or when to check my tire pressure for the 10th time because I ran over a small pothole. I don't think I handle pressure well. I am proud of the fact that I've managed to hold it together in some high pressure situations for me- boards (although I suspect it did play a significant role in my performance, but oh well), presenting to attendings and the like. Is this something I should see a doctor about? Probably. But unfortunately I've left it too long and now there's no time. I was too cheap to consider throwing out 20 bucks a week for "therapy". And I would probably be lying to myself if I said I wasn't embarrassed about it either. I do think though that most people at some point in their lives goes through a bout of depression, or extreme stress or anxiety in which they needed a helping hand and then they can go about their happy way. 

I'm just trying to stay positive, not let things fester- hence blogging it out, and I've decided to head off to Barnes and Noble (plus it will include exercise! Endorphins always help to!) and take a look at some books/workbooks I saw via googling. I don't think I have a clinical anxiety disorder but I still think some help would be beneficial- especially because I think the next 8 weeks will be scary as hell. I'm trying not to be so negative about the upcoming rotation, but I've heard enough horror stories to be wary. But I was scared about emed too, and starting out in general and everything turned out fine, so hopefully with the right attitude things will fall into place this time too. On the plus side, I will be with some of my good friends- for the first time, so that should make things easier too. I think having good friends to talk to and help along the way is key, and I've been missing that so far. This weekend was the first time I had seen some of my friends in two months, and we had plenty of catching up to do. I believe it helps to stay sane. That and sleep of course.

I've realized that so far, most of these blogs have been my worries and fears of rotations. It's good to get them off my chest, but I think I shall have to strive to remember the positive as well. I actually don't think I'm a very negative person in general, I think it's just been a little more difficult for me to adjust. The leap between 2nd and 3rd year was pretty large for me. But I do have more fun times that I should probably stick in writing so that I can remember them. My memory is notoriously poor. That shall be for another time, or else I'll never get to brunch with the roomies. :)

North, South, East, West...what?

Lately it seems that no matter how early I leave to get to a new place, I'm always barely on time or even late. My sense of direction is so poor that I eat up my extra time. Granted, today I had only 10-15min extra, but still.... I managed to get to the hospital 15 min early, but silly me, I put the hospital address into my GPS but not the cross-streets of the parking lot, so in my natural blunderings, I completely turned the wrong way and went over a mile in the wrong direction, confused as ever that I wasn't passing the right streets. I thought I was going in the wrong direction and made a U-turn, but for some reason I thought maybe I just didn't go far enough, and U-turned again and went even more the wrong way! Once I realized my mistake and parked, I was already supposed to be in the hospital. And once I got there, I was in the wrong building. So I showed up almost 10min late, sweaty and out of breath. And I almost lost my shoe along the way, since I was wearing flats.

I don't know why this has unfortunately become the norm. It seems some people just have a natural sense of direction. Clearly this was not one of the gifts bestowed upon me, and it makes me happy that GPS and cell phones have been invented. Now if only I could think to use them properly....but lesson learned, I'll make sure I Google Map the exact location I need to go first, and not my eventual building destination.

My dad used to joke that all you had to do was go in the opposite direction of where my mom and I would start walking to get to where you needed to go, and I hate to admit it, but more often than not, that would be an accurate way to figure out which way to go. So lesson learned...tomorrow when I'm going to a new hospital (again! argh) I shall make sure I've got at least a half hour extra time to get lost. Assuming I can get out of bed :)

Please don't pass out....

I think my goal for the next four weeks--actually, make that twelve--is going to be to not pass out. It's probably going to be a constant silent chant for me...please don't pass out, please don't pass out, please don't pass out...Emergency medicine started yesterday, and four weeks of that combined with a subsequent eight long weeks of surgery is going to make for a hectic and probably overwhelming and slightly gory three months. 

I am happy to say I survived shift 1 of 16 with minimal damage, although I didn't do any of the more scary procedures. I didn't think I had a problem with blood, but my aversion to do wound care, suturing, blood draws and IVs for the time being is proving otherwise. Weirdo that I am, I was actually fine with doing the rectal exam. Could also be that it takes a good 5 seconds, whereas I feel like suturing would probably take at least a half hour, probably with some more silent panic involved. Just watching a video on wound care was enough to make me feel slightly sick...those open wounds seemed crazy gruesome to me. I guess a life in the emergency department is just not for me. Not that I expected it to be. I'm already missing the organized and not-nearly-as-hectic life of neurology, extended work hours and all.

I'm not sure what it is about me, but my ability to overcome my shyness and adapt quickly to situations is just not readily available yet. Yesterday we had orientation and of course, I was one of the unlucky two to start a shift an hour after we ended. I felt so overwhelmed 30 min in, that I probably looked really rude as I forgot to introduce myself to any of the nurses. Luckily though I did at least remember the attending. 

Shift two starts in 11 hours, let's hope my confidence has increased slightly since yesterday so I can knock more procedures off my list. And let's keep the passing out to a minimum. Or even better, to zero.

Where's the Lesion?

Time flies when you're having fun. At least that's how the saying goes. Honestly, it flies even when you're not exactly enjoying yourself but are just busy. Four weeks into the third year already, and I've finished one complete rotation. I seriously don't know where the time went. Did I have fun? I'm not sure I would put it squarely into the "fun" category....but I will say Neurology was better than I expected. The hours weren't as bad as I thought and the physicians were all super nice.
I will say though, it was quite an adjustment from sitting on my butt for 12 hours studying to standing 12 hours rounding on patients, trying to identify where the lesion is in the brain on stroke patients or why exactly patient so-and-so was fainting. Four short weeks was definitely not enough to master neurology, and I still somewhat feel quite clueless, but I think I can honestly say that I am more comfortable with patients and more importantly, the attendings.
I was so nervous the first day we were getting patients I almost threw up at home and again on the drive to the hospital. I felt like most of my fellow students were all "excited" to finally get out into the wards (the hospitals) but I actually felt way more nervous than excited. I think I feel more comfortable studying behind books, which made me seriously wonder what the heck I was doing here in medical school. I felt like the only introvert in a sea of extroverts. I do think it takes more of an effort for me to pipe up in front of the attendings and show off my extremely limited knowledge, but I think I'm getting there. 
I'm even getting more confident driving! The streets of Chicago are waay crazier than Colorado. Traffic on the highways pretty much don't move, from 1pm onwards to about 7. (Don't people need to work??? Why are the highways so crowded so early?) People don't say thank you when you let them in, and taxi drivers especially will honk at you if you don't start driving the instant the light turns green. I've even seen two people yelling at each other from their cars because I guess one cut the other off. It makes me homesick for the Denver suburbs, or even North Chicago, something I truly thought I'd never say.
But through it all, in the past four weeks, if someone asks me where the lesion is, at least I can figure it out. About 2/3 the time.

And so it begins....

Well, we are 4 hours away from July 1, the official start of rotations. I'm sitting in my new apartment, listening  to Howie Day, courtesy of a very loud Lincoln Park Music Festival and very thin walls. Lucky for me I only have a very chill orientation day tomorrow and I'm not hitting the hospitals yet. That's for Tuesday, so one more day to sweat it out. To say I'm nervous would kind of be an understatement, but honestly, in some ways it still hasn't even hit me yet that we're semi-heading out into the real world. No more classrooms, no more lots of free-time-and-afternoons-but-truly-we-should-be-studying. Not even weekends off anymore. It's a scary thought that probably won't hit me until 8am Tuesday when I'm standing in the hospital in my white coat with my pockets weighed down with so much crap for those "just in case" moments of panic, which will probably be 4 times an hour.
I have to admit, the scariest thing about it is going in not knowing whether or not I even passed boards. That, and the fact that starting with a four week rotation means no wiggle room, no slacking at all. Hit the ground running is essential, and yet I feel so lost. I don't know what books to use, I don't know where anything is, including the hospital, and it's a scary thought to be more responsible for real patients 6 days a week, instead of the previous 4 days out of an entire school year. It's quite the balance shift.
But for better or worse, in 12 hours M3 year begins.

I'm Alive! I think

Day 1 post-boards...It's an odd feeling. Originally I thought I'd feel just like the son in the Incredibles when he yells out, "I'm alive! Woohoo!" when the baddies are chasing him and he makes so much noise he attracts the baddies' attention. I thought I'd feel so relieved coming out of the exam, but to be honest, I feel sort of...well, scared. The worrier in me is panicked that I didn't pass, or didn't at least hit average (which is, unfortunately, about 35pts above the pass mark). The test was pretty hard, actually a harder than I sort of expected. I mean, I knew it would be a difficult exam, of course, but usually on the practice questions I would have more questions where I felt like I definitely knew the answer. Yesterday I hate to admit that feeling didn't come up nearly as often as I would have liked. And I feel like exam day jitters got the best of me. I remember yesterday, half the time i was like, wtf is this?? And then this morning I woke up at 6 and basically was like duh, Kel. That's what it is. Whoops. 

I know it's no good to dwell on it b/c it's not like I can change my answers or do anything to improve my score now, and it'll be about 4-8weeks before I even find out how I did, so worrying for that time will probably literally kill me b/c in my distracted state I'd probably walk into a car or something, and I've got rotations coming up now. So I'm trying to sit and relax, which for me is never easy. Suppression!

The one thing that I will definitely not miss is the constant level of panic studying, and feeling like I should be studying every minute of every day. The past few months have been hell, and I will admit, it's nice being lazy. Still have to pack up today and clean and do lots of errands with my one free day, but it's a good feeling to not be studying, and cramming as many random facts into my head as possible. Yep, that is bliss. I can read and watch as much tv as I want! For today at least. But it's better than nothing. And I can finally walk outside in normal summer gear of a t-shirt! And maybe even shorts! The library has been like a refrigerator, and yesterday for the exam I dressed like it was winter. I had on a tank top, a sweater, and a hoodie. And tights and sweatpants. I get cold so freaking easily, it's miserable. But finally, the sun is actually peeking out, which has actually been a little rare this summer, and I can actually enjoy!

And, best part of all, time to learn how to play a drumset :) Hellloo summer

Hello Inspiration!

As my friends and I start spiraling into self-doubt, frustration and semi-depression as we enter our month long boards-studying marathon, I wanted to immortalize this for myself in my blog as a daily reminder to be happy and healthy. Plus, it makes it easier to find here than hunting it down on my friend's facebook wall courtesy of my good ole friend AR :)

http://worldobserveronline.com/2012/04/25/15-things-you-should-give-up-to-be-happy/

Whoever wrote this was one smart and awesome cookie. It's life learning and uplifting inspiration and personal psychologist without leaving your home all rolled into one.

I know that I am guilty of many of these infractions, probably waaay more than half. In fact, almost all of these currently. And I'm sure I'm not alone. For me, it's especially the need to always be right, the self-defeating self-talk, and the need to impress others that I have really honed in on to alter.

I think that what goes hand in hand with the need to always be right (and just as self-limiting)is the need to be perfect. Personally, I hate being wrong and "looking like an idiot" in class. Everyone around me looks so smart, I think,and they all have the right answer! Sometimes it even comes to the point where I just clam up and prefer to say nothing, because of course, the one time you say something is one time you didn't have the right answer. But this happens to everybody. And that fear of being wrong is confining the limits to grow as a person. I do believe that it's true that you learn more getting the answer wrong than you do right. 
The problem for me is that, in the medical profession, getting an answer wrong could mean hurting or endangering a person.  While I know that there are obvious safeguards to this, ie practicing on mannequins first, interns and residents and attendings watching and helping you along the way, it's still a scary thought. I've heard the horror stories of accidental injuries students have caused. It's one of those things where you definitely hear the horror stories of how individuals in this profession have messed up, and oftentimes (although not always) the heart-warming stories go unreported. But again, this fear is not helping anything. Like the article mentions, it is an illusion. It reminds me of a scene from the old animated movie Chicken Run, with the timid chicken farmer who thinks he's seeing the chickens trying to escape but his hard core wife isn't having any of that. "It's all in me head!" the poor farmer keeps repeating to himself.

But back to the matter at hand, while I feel that on the whole getting people to do all of these things (myself included of course) is pretty idealistic. But I think that if we all try to gradually make these changes one at a time with a gentle reminder here and there to gently guide ourselves back on track the world would indeed be a happier place.

Putting Mistakes in Perspective

This week I made a mistake. And I've been continuously thinking about it and worry and being frustrated and angry at myself. It's been taking major study time away from me and a whole lot of energy. But I'm hoping that putting this down in writing will help remind me to put things in perspective. Is it a mistake that is correctable? Yes, after 1 year. Is it costly? Unfortunately yes, but in the long run, an extra $1200 spent is not going to be much. So ultimately no, it is not. It's just to a stingy medical student already staring at $100,000+ debt already, it is a little bit painful. But you know what? That is life. It's about making mistakes, learning, and accepting it. It's about knowing (and acknowledging) that people aren't perfect.

One of the big stresses that comes near the end of the school year is the question "where am I going to live next year?". Moving into the city for rotations is exciting, but also frustrating at best, since you basically have to look for a place while studying for boards, studying for class, and studying for shelf exams. 

My roommate and I found a place after a lot of searching, but the problem was, it wasn't perfect. And it was very expensive. But since we had a hard time finding something, we plopped down the money and the process to sign our lives away for a year. It wasn't until I thought a little more about what we did that I realized that we jumped the gun a bit. We could have looked at another place that had a lease that started two weeks earlier, take the extra hit of an additional $1000 rent, but in the long run would've saved us about $1500 and would've been a slightly nicer place. We could've waited a little longer, cut into study time and found something. 

But that's a lot of could've and should've. And as I was sitting here this morning, hemming and hawing and stressing away as to whether or not to break our unsigned lease and try for the other apartment, it made me realize that I still haven't learned my lesson. Did I probably make a mistake this week? Yes. I should've listened to my gut, should've been more patient in looking for a place, and not have worried about it for so long prior to when we started looking. But I haven't been looking at this as a learning experience. My roommate and I were both rookies in the apartment looking world. We didn't know what we were doing. And I spent this week looking for ways to correct a temporary problem that is hard to fix when we have major exams to study for, when realistically instead I should just chalk this up to a life lesson.

I've learned to be more flexible not just in terms of what amenities and locations I want in a place, but also to stop and think about lease start dates and those hidden extra rental fees etc that some places use instead of security deposits. And I've been trying my hardest to put things in perspective. This wasn't a life decision, it's a decision for a year. Will moving after a year be difficult? Absolutely. But that's ok.

I think that making this mistake now is a good thing. Next year I will know what to look for, and how to be more efficient. Sometimes you need to make the mistake, because you remember it more than when you lucked out and did things better the first time around. 

Making mistakes is something I know is good to do. I know in my head that I will be making a lot of them next year and forever in the future. I've just been so afraid to make them that it's almost crippling. I know that's not the right way to go about life, and I'm hoping that documenting this apartment hunting experience will help me remember that making a mistake is ok, as long as you remember and learn from it. And I think that I have. And I'm grateful that I can afford to make this mistake. I can afford the cost. Not easily, but it's possible. And there are infinitely worse problems and issues that I could be dealing with than where I'm living next year.

I read an article on the Boston marathon bombings and what many of the victims have to deal with. One young lady was dealing with having her leg amputated. Now that put things in perspective right away for me. Here I am, like a selfish pre-occupied student whining about paying an extra thousand bucks for a place that isn't as nice as I wanted- which is actually such a minor problem, while people are fighting to learn to walk again. Fighting to deal with lives lost. Learning to cope with tragedy. And thousands of other, worse issues. When you look at it that way, I'm lucky. And I'm blessed. 

This is probably one of the first few semi-serious mistakes that I have made, and I think it scared me. But now that I have put things in perspective, hopefully I won't be as afraid anymore. And I will embrace my new life in the city, instead of counting down the days until I can remedy my issue. And so, in writing this down, I am hoping I am more accepting of my non-perfect self and the fact that I maybe made a mistake here, and that is a-ok :)

And now maybe I can focus a little more on studying!

The Unearthing

Wow. It's been almost 2 whole years since I've touched this thing, and even though life is more hectic than ever, I feel like it's time to resurrect the good ole blog for some venting/ramblings. After all, mounting stress and panic and negative thoughts that bubble inside never end up good, so this is my way of letting out the steam a bit in my personal pressure cooker of life so that I don't blow off my hand or something if/when it goes off.

Which, in my rambly way, reminds me of when I was a research tech before I started school again. I loved my job- it was always interesting, and although there were some tasks that were more mundane than others, there were so many different experiments and duties that kept me on my toes. However, one job I definitely dreaded the most: staining paraffin slides of tissue--and the subsequent counting cells/vessels under the scope. Sure, the stained slides are so pretty to look at- once, or maybe even twice. But sliding the slide around looking through the microscope for hours was a sure way to give me a lovely headache of dizziness. 
But even worse than that was the staining process. When I first started, I had to gather all my slides and go to a collaborating lab in the next tower to stain them. You had to take off the paraffin wax off the tissue by dunking the slides in different concentrations of solutions. Boring, but not bad. The scary part was you had to "cook" the slides in a solution to prep the slides for staining, and the lab's method was boiling them in an ancient pressure cooker in the microwave. It had this heavy clunky rubber top on the top that could release the steam, and sometimes it was hard to get the top of the lid on properly. You knew you got the lid on right if it hissed continuously in the microwave like an angry cat or something.

see? scarrryyy. that red cap was evil

To get the lid off the pot after it was finished was the truly scary part. You had to fill the entire sink with cold water, and try to relieve as much steam/pressure as possible or else that rubber top could fly off and pop out your eyeball. When my co-worker showed me how to do thsi procedure, he was laughingly telling me how the PI almost lost his eye doing this b/c he didn't let out all the steam and the rubber top flew off and almost hit him! Yeah...that made me just looove staining slides.

So yes. pressure cookers. They can explode in scary ways. Hopefully board studying won't make me explode in a similar way. I might lose something worse than my eye. Like my sanity :( Hence...blog revival, yay!