One Hundred and Ninety-three, Insurance

Ah vacation! Here I am in Texas with nine other people to celebrate the New Years! And I'm working on an overcharge problem with my health insurance company. Sometimes Life can be too much of a blur to see the little things piling up at your feet.

One Hundred and Ninety-two, Death of 'Ole Blue

Around eight years ago the four of them came into our lives as brothers of the same factory.  The gentle blue with a glowing insignia were soothing to our sense, the ergonomic shape eased into our palms.  We four had found our mice.  Lord Chaos, the Beatnik, the Engineer, and myself revelled in our gameplay for many years with these mice.  Switching to each other's computers was simple with the same peripherals.  Orcs, dwarves, trolls, gnomes, terrorists, scientists, Gordon Freemans, robots, Soviets, Allies, GDI, NOD, pyros, engineers, Psilons, Silicoids, roller coasters, trains, Civilization(s), Tribes vehicles, mutalisks, carriers, seige tanks, Jedi, Sith, smugglers, bounty hunters, augmented UNATCO operatives, Ylloj - my frost sorceress, a red Boba Fett-lokalike named Silencer, fantasy warriors, X-COM operatives, cities, evil minions and mistresses who you could slap, Kabuto, and Meccs are but a few of the creatures and races under the sway of our mice at one time or another.  

'Ole Blue has travelled a lot too between three different cities and almost 10 houses/apartments.  He provided my thumb a gentle gel-filled pad on which to rest.  He outlived two of his three brothers in regular usage.  One got lost to the annals of "old equipment" while another hemorrhaged out gel fluid.  One sibling remains who still feels the love of a human daily.  The Beatnik has just built himself a new computer and his mouse will hopefully get to experience it for many years to come.  Mine decided six months was what it could last on my new PC.  Today the years of rough use and the cord's weight to the ground finally pulled some connection loose inside the mouse.  I tried a splint with tape but it can't hold with the pressure needed.

Today I went out and found the great-great-great-great grandson of my Mouseman Wheel, the G5 Laser Mouse.  

It's been hard with it because it is unruly and different.  My thumb sits slightly differently, there are a few extra buttons, and the slide is smoother than I'm used to.  I'm sure I'll get used to it though.  Already today I've gotten to like the slide and messed around with the extra buttons.

But I'll still miss that blue glowing symbol on my first real mouse.

One Hundred and Ninety-one, The Lich King

Wrath of the Couch Potato

One Hundred and Ninety, Epic Fail

I won't say a game is sucking my life away because that would imply that I am miserable playing it both with people I know and with people I've never met.  That, however, is not the case.  I felt a thrill of joy in the weeks leading up to the release of the expansion and now I have some goals on what I want to accomplish with it.  I've taken my first steps into Northrend and they are thrilling and sturdy ones.

One Hundred and Eighty-nine, Passion

I had a surgeon tell me about a procedure he was going to help perform back when I was on surgery.  The procedure was the one mentioned briefly in this entry.  And while to you or I it might seem like a long, amazing, and possibly tedious surgery, to him it was why he lived.  The excitement on his face was a beacon for me.  As I go through pediatrics and look back on Ob/Gyn and Surgery, I realized that I want what he has.  I want to experience the same glowing feeling, the same Drive for a particular line of work.  Doctors are in their profession for life.  I want to do something that I will thoroughly enjoy for the rest of mine.  

One Hundred and Eighty-eight, Dalaran

The search begins in two days for the city that used to fill this crater.

One Hundred and Eighty-seven, Seven Rocks!

It's still the 10th!  So there!  Nothing here though.  Check back another day!

One Hundred and Eighty-six, Patient Continuity

So this daily blogging isn't going to work as is apparent to all who read my last one and then glanced at the date on this one.  Ohwell, ONWARDS!  

Continuity of Care is important in medicine for particular doctors.  Mainly Family medicine, Ob/Gyns, Psychiatry, and Pediatrics.  You see the same patients regularly either for checkups or for sick visits.  Hopefully the former, but the world isn't perfect.  Friday closed a chain of events in which I had interacted with a particular patient through three separate events, as opposed to following a patient stuck in a hospital during my rotation.  The first encounter was during my Ob/Gyn month during clinic where she came in for a 28 week checkup.  I can recall the exacts of her circumstances, older mom, excited that she quit smoking during the pregnancy, and with a particular medical condition which required some vigilance on our part when delivery-time came but was not a major worry.After her checkup that day, I placed her out of mind and figured, like the rest of the patients I had seen during those months, that I would let her melt into the pool of faces and names and diagnoses that collects all the patients I see.

Ten days ago during Newborn nursery my fellow classmate was examining a baby who had just come from the OR where mom had just had an emergency Caesarian section.  I didn' think much of it as I was writing my note on another baby while listening to them talk about a medical condition plaguing some mothers when I happened to hear the baby's last name.  I glanced up and without thinking uttered a first name.  The attending glanced down and read the mother's name.  Perfect match.  Mom was not exactly with it since she was recovering from her operation so I didn't get a chance to congratulate her then.  I felt a little warm inside with this patient continuity but again I figured that this was it, the end of the line.  I was prepared to let her and her child melt into the pool of patients although I figured it would take a little longer due to this second interaction, however remote it was.

Two days ago in my pediatric outpatient clinic, again I found myself sitting writing up a note on a patient I had seen while listening to the residents and attendings interacting and teaching/learning.  This time I heard about how this newborn's mother had a particular medical condition but it had been handled properly and there was no sign of damage to the baby due to it.  This time I glanced over at the folder the resident was working on.  There was the last name again.  This time I did go in to say hi.  

I don't know what I want to do yet, but I do want continuity.

One Hundred and Eighty-five, Memories

One of my favorite teachers in high school taught me history.  As the Engineer pointed out to me tonight, she often would draw a boot on the board and say, "And here, scholars, is clearly a map of Europe."  Learning from her about events long gone instilled in me a deep respect and love for history.  Hearing about events that occurred centuries ago and how they shaped the world was very moving.  As you learned, some minor events could end up shaping the world (such as a single assassination in Austria).  Other events you knew would be important as you learned about them.  The number of "firsts" that this relatively young country has seen proves to me that today is a day schoolchildren of the next millennium will have to memorize (or at least to know what decade this occurred).  Today a new president was elected.  Not because the way he spoke or the color of his skin or his gender, but because of his beliefs in how to run this country.  That doesn't change the fact that history books of the future will look back and note that this was the day when a non-Caucasian person was first voted to the title of President-Elect.  What does matter is that this nation didn't vote its first black president into office.  No, I know that the majority of this nation finally voted for an American whose beliefs they likened to who happened to be a man of color.  

On that note, I begin NaBloPoMo [five days late].

One Hundred and Eighty-four, Diapers

I started Newborn Nursery on Tuesday.  I changed my first diaper then.  It was goopy.  But I did a good job!

One Hundred and Eighty-three, Two Days

I joked with my friends before starting the Pediatric rotation on how long I'd go before I came down with something.  The results are in!  I went a paltry two days before getting feverish, having extreme cold chills, a headache, and some muscle aches.  In my defense, I do believe this is related not to the kids I saw yesterday as much as to the flu vaccine I received yesterday at noon.

One Hundred and Eighty-two, Dungeons and Dragons Character

I Am A: Neutral Good Human Wizard (3rd Level)

Ability Scores:
Strength-10
Dexterity-11
Constitution-14
Intelligence-13
Wisdom-14
Charisma-12

Alignment:
Neutral Good A neutral good character does the best that a good person can do. He is devoted to helping others. He works with kings and magistrates but does not feel beholden to them. Neutral good is the best alignment you can be because it means doing what is good without bias for or against order. However, neutral good can be a dangerous alignment because it advances mediocrity by limiting the actions of the truly capable.

Race:
Humans are the most adaptable of the common races. Short generations and a penchant for migration and conquest have made them physically diverse as well. Humans are often unorthodox in their dress, sporting unusual hairstyles, fanciful clothes, tattoos, and the like.

Class:
Wizards are arcane spellcasters who depend on intensive study to create their magic. To wizards, magic is not a talent but a difficult, rewarding art. When they are prepared for battle, wizards can use their spells to devastating effect. When caught by surprise, they are vulnerable. The wizard's strength is her spells, everything else is secondary. She learns new spells as she experiments and grows in experience, and she can also learn them from other wizards. In addition, over time a wizard learns to manipulate her spells so they go farther, work better, or are improved in some other way. A wizard can call a familiar- a small, magical, animal companion that serves her. With a high Intelligence, wizards are capable of casting very high levels of spells.


Find out What Kind of Dungeons and Dragons Character Would You Be?, courtesy of Easydamus

One Hundred and Eighty-one, Everyday Doctoring Stuff

Last week Wednesday I received an email from the Beatnik.  He'd recently done 129 questions to see what Dungeons and Dragons character build he would be and was curious what our friend circle would get.  This was in the morning.  I set aside this task since I was heading into the hospital and decided to confront this monster of a quiz later on that day.

Wednesday continued and I learned that I would be participating in a big surgery starting at 2 PM called a "free fibula flap" surgery.  If you Google it, the second hit that comes up does a good succint job of describing it.  I describe it below in brief.  Anyway, we didn't finish the surgery and I didn't get back to the apartment until 1:00 AM Thursday morning from the hospital.  I had a pounding headache from lack of food and liquids but I had just seen an amazing surgery.  I saw a slew of emails from all of my friends who had replied their character builds throughout the day as they completed the 129 question quiz.  The last one was from the Beatnik again, addressing all of us.  Here it is, and pardon any language that might be offensive to you.

The Beatnik's question to the world:

"Well our party is pretty varied.  We have Drock as the all powerful wizard.  I'm the tree hugging hippy druid.  Crazy Blonde is the know it all Wizard.  Woodwind is the touchy feely Cleric and Lord Chaos is our soul devouring Fighter/sorcerer.  The Engineer is our totally not gay Bard.  And I know you are all wondering the same question I am,

 

WHAT THE FUCK IS DAVE!?!? TAKE THE GOD DAMN TEST!

 

Our group make up would put Lord Chaos in the front.  Me and Woodwind in the middle with the Engineer close behind (Dancing or doing whatever the fuck bards do), Crazy Blonde and Drock as our artillery in the rear (tee hee).  And I know you are all curious about one thing,

 

WHERE THE FUCK IS DAVE?

 

I know me too.  Kinda fun, maybe we should all cosplay sometime (shudder) 

love,

The Beatnik 

p.s.  TAKING THE FUCKING TEST DAVE! "

Reading this at 1:00 AM, I quickly sent out a reply to everyone:

"I just saw a guy’s left jaw taken out, then a bone from his leg taken and put in with a metal bracket to work as a jaw, then his pec from his left chest pasted over the bone, and then multiple skin grafts.  This morning I briefly read your email at 6:00 AM before running off to the hospital.  There I have been until 1 AM right now.  I don’t think I need a test to tell everyone that I’m some type of good cleric

I’ll take it one day. 

-Dave"

I felt that while this might be harsh, it helped explain why I hadn't replied and that I'd get to it when I had a chance.  Little did I realize but in the couple of hours of sleep I got, the Beatnik had responded:

"Lol, now was that so hard?  I kind of realized your crazy schedule after a little while.  You're doing something right now that I could never do.  I know that you're in a world of doctors and people who do this shit all the time.  But, those of us who don't have MD in front of our names are pretty impressed by what you're doing right now.  Just thought you should know. 

Keep up the good work Cleric Dave,

The Beatnik"

This was 6 AM Thursday morning after a 4 hour nap.  I paused.  

and continued to pause.

I have become so inundated with cholecystectomies (gallbladder removals) and hernia repairs (fixing weak areas of bellies and groins) and other surgical terms that I was missing out on the simple fact that the majority of humanity never sees the things surgeons and the OR staff do.  Yeah, during the surgery I wondered who the hell thought up taking someone's bone from a leg to rebuild a jaw, but the actual procedure never amazed me because it made sense.  To laypeople though, it's practically magic.  The patient sees the difference between what they used to look and feel like compared to how everything is after a surgery and it's amazing.  

That's what my two months on Surgery have boiled down to: Amazing.

One Hundred and Eighty, Surgery? Check!

I passed my Surgery clerkship.

Today at my oral exams, an interesting interaction occurred.  I was examined by two surgeons both of whom I've had some form of interaction with during my rotation.  At the start of the exam, one of them asked me in what field of medicine I was interested.  I'm not prone to lying for the sake of cozying up to someone so I stated the fact that I was undecided but was building an idea of what was important to me.  One of those realizations was that I did not feel I would be up to the lifestyle of a surgeon.  Hence I was thinking I'd end up in family medicine or pediatrics.  Then the examination continued.  I did fine in the exam and as I was shaking their hands in preparation to leave, the fellow who had asked me what I was interested in told me not to go into family medicine or pediatrics.  "It would be a waste."

One Hundred and Seventy-nine, Mail Goggles

Read all about it.  It's Genius!

In other news, shelf exam tomorrow in Surgery.

One Hundred and Seventy-eight, Bills

At times it's easy to get caught in the whirlwind that is Third year and forget to pay the bills.  I didn't this time, but this is one of two times this school year I've been close to missing deadlines not through forgetfulness as much as no-time-to-devote-to-it-ness between being at the hospital most of the time and playing hard when I'm home.  Is my balance perfect?  Hardly, but I hope I'm learning my place and what I can do to maintain myself decently.  This weekend was good between kite-flying, practicing taking histories and physical exams, and hanging out with some good friends.  

One Hundred and Seventy-seven, Day 7/8

HUZZAH!  Power returned sometime between 9:30 PM and 12:30 AM!

One Hundred and Seventy-six, Day 6

Still no power...[sigh]

One Hundred and Seventy-five, The Elderly

I went into a room to check on an 83 year-old man's progress that day.  "Good morning sir." I said clearly as I turned on the light and approached his bed.  His eyes perked up and his head tilted slightly towards my voice.  In the corner the television was blaring away on some news channel some family member or nurse had put on for him.  I realized as his eyes stared at the ceiling that he would not be focusing directly on me.  I involuntarily speak louder asking him how his night was.  In reply, a slew of noises issued from his toothless mouth.  I put my ear close to him to hear him better.  No avail.  How was I supposed to gather information from this fellow?!  I stood at the side of his bed despairing that this man with a rich history (all 83 year-old people have a rich history) couldn't communicate what he was trying so hard to tell.  I continued explaining my exam steps as I checked his heart and lungs and operative site and legs.  He never stopped with his trail of words.  In fact, I couldn't hear clearly at all in his chest due to his larynx sending sound waves down through his body into my stethoscope.  As I said goodbye and left, he quieted down in what I imagine was frustration.  He might have had a stroke, but he obviously was aware of people.  He just couldn't communicate effectively and that is what made me saddest.

In opposition to that experience, I met a nurse later on that day who was from the Philippines.  She had immigrated 58 years ago.  At the spry age of 79, she worked regularly in the operating room as a circulating nurse--the nurse who makes sure everything runs smoothly in the OR and gets stuff we don't have in there.  She was telling us stories about her younger days and stuff about her husband.  Her husband is Japanese and apparently when she married him, the Philippine government took away her Filipino citizenship.  She told an elaborate story about how she eventually kept from being deported to Japan through friends in high places and even getting her name on a bill that Lyndon Johnson signed.  And then there was the story about her husband who was to be deployed in the war "in just a few days when the war ended."  At one point a newer worker in the area, some nurse or tech, came by asking if she would help move the patient back to the ready OR.  The 79 year-old fixed a look on the intruder which clearly meant, "Let me finish my story, then I'll take care of it!"  She picked up where she was decribing a kamikaze's underwater counterpart, a Kaiten.  Her husband had been training as a pilot for one of these and was scheduled to be deployed a couple days after Nagasaki.  Her wrinkled face was animated throughout the storytelling.  Deep furrows appearing in her brow when reciting the parts regarding her possible deportment and the fact that her husband was a Kaiten pilot.  Wrinkles clearing out with her smiles when she reached the happy conclusions of remaining in the States and her husband not being deployed incidentally.

In one day I encountered two people who showed me the wide variability in human function and communication.  I also grew to appreciate different qualities in each.  From the gentleman patient, I had a glimpse of future disability that is more likely to strike than sudden death and the possibility of unheard stories.  From the nurse, I learned the richness of a life and the joy of knowing the lives others have lived.  In fact, it gave me hope hearing her realizing that the gentleman probably had regaled other people with his own stories prior to his mishap.  I hope those people take those stories and remember them time to time.  

What are we but the sum of our experiences and knowledge? 

One Hundred and Seventy-four, Day 4

The following is an excerpt that I can apply to various people I know who are going through this power outage.

"I still don't have power but it's OK [cue hysterical laughter] because who needs power? Not me. I don't need power at all. I'll just read by candlelight for the rest of my life UNTIL I GO BLIND IN FIVE DAYS BECAUSE DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT IS TO READ BY CANDLELIGHT? IT'S HARD THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID.

Ahem. At least people I know have power. If I couldn't get out of our dark apartment, I'd have jumped off the balcony by now, which wouldn't have even killed me. I'd have just broken my leg or something and sat there in the dark crying about my stupid, broken leg. Wah wah waaaaaaaaah."

For those who do have power, enjoy the music at this MySpace site!

One Hundred and Seventy-three, Day 3

Today was Lecture Day. I sat through eight hours of lecture while my phone charged in a corner of the room. I took my milk over to a friend's home who has a powered fridge. I also picked up a couple sandalwood scented candles and lithium 123 batteries. I'm thankful I have a powerful flashlight that doesn't use C or D batteries and, having grown up Hindu, that I love the smell of sandalwood.
In 2004 I went for a week without power. They're saying the same again this time around. I'm ok with it although a little frustrated. Maybe it's karma. Saturday I played Warcraft with the Beatnik and had a good time and picked up useful loot and now I can't play. Of all the weeks to lose power, this one is the best since I have a midterm coming up. At least this time the weather is cooler than during the previous outage. Back then my housemates and I stayed at school ALL day and returned to sleep at night. In the mornings, we'd shower and head back to school. It was miserable. This one is much better!

One Hundred and Seventy-two, Day 2

I glanced over at the dog wondering how long his flesh would keep me sated. Then I remembered that I am a vegetarian. [le sigh] Hurricane Ike has struck! These varied entries will log my travails through the land of the powerless.

One Hundred and Seventy-one, Dr. Horrible

I finally watched Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along-Blog. Doogie Howser (yeah yeah, Neil Patrick Harris) can SING! Go watch it. Pretty please.

One Hundred and Seventy, Being Chiseled Away

While I am enjoying myself (I started Surgery on Monday), I am tired, and eagerly awaiting the rotation where I will be allowed to sleep more. Alas, they are all far away next Spring. I've slowly been refining what kind of doctor I want to be not by selecting and excluding specific positions like obstetrician or surgeon but by selecting and excluding doctor qualities and types of patient interactions I enjoy and dislike.

One Hundred and Sixty-nine, Start of a Queen's Reign

"Go on, get in there!"

As I stepped forward, a fleeting moment of nervousness and panic entered me and left as I strengthened my resolve. I was ready for this. I'd seen it done many times by now and felt comfortable with the process along with the doctors there. I held the little girl's head as it came at me. I moved the head and the shoulders downward until the top shoulder came free. Then, before I could blink, she popped out! I wasn't prepared for the speedy exit she made so I was holding her with both hands as she started crying (the practiced physicians develop a one-handed safe baby-holding technique). The resident put the clamps on the cord and Papa leaned in to cut it with the scissors. Finally I handed the little girl off to the pediatric crew ready to assess her health.

Later on I asked the resident, "Does it ever get old?"

"No."

One Hundred and Sixty-eight, Millennium Falcon

My interest in Hot Wheels and various other small, die-cast scale models led me to obtain a replica of the Millennium Falcon slightly larger than a silver dollar. It's currently sitting on my desk. I keep fighting the urge to grab it and fly it around the room. Valiben would tell me that I shouldn't play with it because it would be bad for me. Then she'd say that I should give it to her instead. She never asks for something, she always explains a reason why you shouldn't have it and she should. Manipulative child.

I still love her and miss her.

One Hundred and Sixty-seven, Deliveries and Home

My days this past week included two Cesarean sections, one normal delivery, and one ectopic pregnancy. I've managed to find many babies' heartbeats while they're inside mommy using Doppler devices. I've met a woman who is pregnant for the third time after having lost her first pregnancy because the baby developed no brain and lost the second in a miscarriage. She and the doctor are ecstatic that this third pregnancy is going well and she's getting really close to term with a healthy baby growing inside her.
This past weekend I saw the Engineer and some other friends. I came to realize that while I had become slightly desensitized to bar smoke in the past, my year or so of abstinence from smoke-ridden air caused my throat to heal up and feel Friday night stronger than usual. My grandmother's birthday was on Saturday. And Valiben showed up just before I ate dinner and then drove off to my schooltown. Sunday I managed to get laundry done and I had some good chats with a couple friends.

One Hundred and Sixty-six, Humanity's Progress

I had a family member who witnessed a terrorist's bombing. I will work with my family to make sure she gets the psychological help (from family and professionals) she needs to work through it in her mind. I do not wish for revenge on the ones that did that and killed others. I just wish for proper justice based on the transgressed laws of that land.

Evolutionary fight between physical might and the ability to protect/kill versus moral understanding and the ability to understand/forgive?

One Hundred and Sixty-five, The Bat Man

Day Um

One Hundred and Sixty-four, Wrinkles

It's both amazing and freaky to watch a baby come out of a woman's uterus. More to come later this week!

Ond Hundred and Sixty-three, The Number of the Devil

Roommate and my electric bill today: $66.66.

One Hundred and Sixty-two, Pass

A sigh of relief escaped me yesterday when I found out. I wasn't as worried as some of my friends, but the moment of truth was a bit nerve-wracking. I still have a lot of work to do, but at least I don't have to fall behind my classmates at all.

One Hundred and Sixty-one, Introductions

I still stop and wonder what the hell I was thinking when yesterday, meeting a young woman for the first time at the Contra dance gathering, I introduced myself and then continued with, "These hands have been inside women's abdomens this past week! ... Oh, in surgeries."

Tact I do not have. Still, it was an enjoyable time and my enthusiasm for the dancing overshadowed any odd worries she might have had that her abdomen would be dissected. She had the habit of staring me right in the eyes. I do not know proper etiquette for dancing so I'm just glad I was still learning and had a reason to look at other people to have an idea of what to do. $3 is well worth enjoying group dancing again, whether or not the acquaintances of the Kid are there.

In other news, I find out my Step 1 Board scores tomorrow.

One Hundred and Sixty, Contra

Dancing something called the Contra - Free on first go, $3 for each subsequent visit.

Seeing one of the Kids - whatever a tank of gasoline costs to drive an hour and half.

Wearing yourself out and then getting only three hours of sleep before your 7:30 surgery the following day? Priceless

One Hundred and Fifty-nine, Gyn/Onc

[Disclaimer: Medical terminology and surgeries are described here. No "graphic violence" or descriptions about how bloody it was or bodily juices, but relevant surgical terms are used]

Ok, where to start...[ponders]

Gynecology - the branch of medical science that deals with the health maintenance and diseases of women, esp. of the reproductive organs. (definition from here)

Oncology - the branch of medical science dealing with tumors, including the origin, development, diagnosis, and treatment of malignant neoplasms. (definition from here)

July 7th, 4:30 AM I met with my classmates in a dark parking garage. We walked to the hospital and changed into scrubs nervously. We learned.

That early in the morning we wake up old ladies and ask them whether their pain is controlled. Whether they are feeling nausea or have vomited overnight. Did they have any bowel movements or did they pass any gas (I always want to say fart but I have to sound proper even though the patients can say whatever they want). One lady talked about popping a kid off on July 4th and another mentioned she'd let rip a big fart just the past night. We proceed on with our exam.

The exam isn't anything horrific. I just listen to lungs to make sure there's no fluid buildup and listen to the heart. This is where I start practicing listening to normal stuff and might hear abnormal stuff time to time. Then I check the abdomen. There's a variety of abdomens. Some are pale and doughy, others are pinker and more rigid. I always get nervous poking near the site of the wound.

After all that, we sit and write our progress notes. Basically a distillation of all we learned from the patient and writing down all the pertinent lab information from the computer and from the nurses' vitals' sheets. We try to finish before the residents come in--I still find this morning deadline challenging. The residents then repeat everything we did except they go much faster and they have an idea about what treatments to follow for the day. The Attending doctor arrives at some point and we proceed to summarize all the patients for him (or her) and then go to each patient as a large horde. We talk to each patient and sometimes re-examine them telling them what we have planned for them and listening to their concerns.

One day a week I have clinic. This is akin to a doctors office and deals mainly with pregnant women coming in for regular checkups or post-operative patients coming in for 3 or 6 week followups. Women seeking contraceptive help can also come into the clinic. Here I brush up on interviewing skills and practice my physical exams steps of listening to heart/lungs, and checking the abdomen as well.

I have to dress up for this day. I still find jeans and a t-shirt more comfortable.

Outside of that routine, we get to scrub into surgeries our doctors perform. My first surgery was a 3 hour hysterectomy and bilateral salpingo-oopherectomy. Those are fancy words for "We took her ovaries, tubes, and uterus out of her." It was a surreal experience putting my hands inside her belly. I've been following her since her surgery and she's been doing alright. We're waiting for her to have a bowel movement. Yup, surgery is grand!

I enjoyed laprascopic surgery. I play video games. Controlling the camera felt quite natural. I was also controlling the lady's uterus so it stayed up and out of our way. The tension in my arms from these two actions used a lot of oxygen. I almost fainted. I'm glad I spoke up and sat down at that time. Falling down on a sterile field is definitely frowned upon in surgery.

Yesterday's surgery was to investigate a pelvic mass in a dear old lady who wasn't able to keep anything down. This was a neat surgery because as we delved down into her bowels, it was clear why she couldn't eat anything. A huge cyst had adhered to her intestines and then grew big enough to pressure the gut to close. We took out the cyst--it quivered as it came into the cold OR. It was black and blue and slowly dying (the cyst, not the lady). We're hoping she'll heal just fine now!

Today I will go to bed two hours ago. I will wake up tomorrow dark and early to go back to the hospital!

One Hundred and Fifty-eight,

Influence exists, there's no doubt about it. Up until now, however, its power over me has not been that powerful. My merits and personal traits have carried the day even in the face of influence at times. Going through medical school though, it's going to be tougher to fight influence. And I successfully made that fight tougher for myself by accidentally hitting "Reply All" to an innocent email. I'm clumsy, as my friends know. Apparently that conveys to mouse-clicking too at times.

I'm nervous, but I'll live. And whatever can't kill you, only makes you stronger. I heard that somewhere once.

One Hundred and Fifty-seven, [insert robotic squee! of joy]

I want Lasseter as my kids' personal storyteller every night.

One Hundred and Fifty-six, Wrapup Minus One

My Checklist:
Second Year Completed (& Passed) - Check!
Step 1 of the Board Exams Taken - Check!
Two and a Half Weeks of Vacation Completed - Check!
Step 1 of the Board Exams Passed - Waiting on Results...
Starting Third Year - In One Day
Started Research on my New Computer - Check!

There is the past 3 months of my life in six small bullets on a checklist. I am alive and well despite the wear and tear. Lot of life events going on with other people that I've attempted keeping track of and utterly failed in the past few months. I will be working to amend that as well as preparing for the third year. My first rotation? Ob/Gyn!

One Hundred and Fifty-five, Long Commutes

There are people for whom an hour commute is perfectly normal. I am not one of those people. Today I drove from home home to my school town for a day meeting and then headed back home home. Doing that on a daily basis would make me very introspective and likely to get into a wreck. Roommate commuted for an hour at one point and so a 45 minute or 30 minute commute is no biggie for him. Even those would be pushing it for me since time to be introspective is not necessarily what I care to have at the moment. As it stands, I don't have to drive on my own for a bit, thankfully, and so I'll enjoy the rest of this brief break I have before I start up my OB/GYN rotation in a couple weeks!

One Hundred and Fifty-four, Mind Stew

The past few weeks have been quite a rough road for me and others around the country. The part I keep trying to wrap my head around is that Life and Time don't stop. Every now and then you get into this point where you're having fun and enjoying yourself but it's hard to stay right in that position without something throwing a monkey wrench into your fun. I did spend some of my days off playing Warcraft like an addict and it felt great compared to the grind of the questions and study materials. But inevitably, I'd notice the time was 2 or 3 AM or my lids would automatically droop and I'd know that when I woke up, it would all be gone again traded in exchange for another set of grueling study hours. The Engineer just bought himself a house and is in the process of moving over there. He's had many points where he had decisions to make and time would force his hand when he would have rather had the chance to make carefully reviewed, forward-looking plans. Many of my friends are looking to the next few months and wondering how their life will look and where it will be. And for them it's probably the scariest. But that's what the rest of us are for and willing to help them cope with. Their minds are all in a jumble wondering what progress they're making on their goals and if they're going down the right road or just a screwed up one. Sometimes they can't even sleep well at night because of the cacophony of thoughts with them.

I still wish my mind would quiet.

One Hundred and Fifty-three, Aftermath

It went by quickly. Two kindly old ladies put us all in our cubicles in a timely manner and kept a vigilant watch over us. It actually felt straightforward. Granted some of the questions were outright unknowns where I knew I didn't have the knowledge stored away in a manner that I could access no matter how hard I tried. And other times they asked me what was the first amino acid used to create any new protein.

Six weeks. Six weeks of freedom. Four weeks of my first rotation. It will be grand!

One Hundred and Fifty-two, The Fateful Day

It's here.

One Hundred and Fifty-one, False Panic Attack

What's messed up is waking up thinking the exam is tomorrow and feeling a major panic attack coming on for the day to help focus studying...

Then realizing that the exam isn't tomorrow, it's in two days, and your body settling down right away back to its ho-hum ways.

[le sigh]

One Hundred and Fifty, The World Works in Mysterious Ways

My mind has been in a very static phase recently. And then in the past couple days, normal stuff has made it open up and fly. Yesterday I made stained glass "windows" made from crayon shavings, wax paper, and an iron. Today I hung out with one of the Kids who came up for his twenty-first birthday. These days helped me feel alive in a way that studying has been depriving me of feeling. I'm glad for that and for the friends to do that with.

One Hundred and Fourty-nine, A Step Back

I talked with Beatnik's mom today--it is her birthday--and we both mentioned how people can put in effort and in the end, you'll end up where you do and you work with that. It's an important lesson for kids to learn as they grow up. Many children (and adults for that matter), don't see anything beyond their own ideal pathway. This is handy in defining a goal or set of goals but if ever they fall off that path somewhere, everything comes to a screeching halt. Why? They just don't have experience with failing at something so they don't know how to react. People are tripping all the time (no LSD jokes please). It's hard to find a person who's never had to fall off her or his train tracks and have to redefine the pathway. That's an integral part of being a human being. Whether it's a big exam coming up or the health of an unborn baby, there are things in our control and things out of our control. Speaking from experience, I can control the amount of time I spend dedicated to studying for my exam. I cannot control most parts of my testing experience or what my score will be from that day. If I do well, I will be thankful and proceed onwards. If I don't do well and I pass, I'll be thankful for passing, and prepare to work harder down the road.

If I don't pass at all...well, let's just say there are other steps to be taken before I jump off my train tracks.

One Hundred and Fourty-eight, Fifty-eight Songs and Five Hours

It's done. The lousy "10 Gamer Points" matter nothing in the face of our personal sense of fulfillment of this essentially useless achievement. We played the Endless Setlist (a lie I tell you, a LIE!) which consisted of all original 58 songs from Rock Band. We played the songs when our hands began to hurt; we played the songs when our legs hurt; we played the songs while our shoulders and backs ached; we played the songs while our feet were giving out.

We...just...kept...playing...

It said we finished at some point. We only knew this when we received no more notes, no more cues, no more movement from the television screen in front of us.

Never again. I can tell my grandkids, "Yes, I did play Rock Band straight for five hours and fifty-eight songs. Never be so stupid in your life."

One Hundred and Fourty-seven, It Happens Yet Again

I went looking at my grade online today. The listing of different assignments/exams was different this time. Before there was NBME Shelf Exam Raw and NBME Shelf listed as blank scores. Today those two rows were missing. I was curious so I went to ask. I got pulled aside (busy office atmosphere), got a serious look, and was told I passed.

w00t!

One Hundred and Fourty-six, A Reprieve

The month of studying has begun! It's odd how I can get myself working hard but on the other hand, I also have to play hard. As many of my friend can attest to, I've been studying my requisite hours a day but I've also been playing games like a madman outside those times (I tried mixing the two and I realized it was a no-go). Hence anything that comes in the middle (like the news, this blog, sleep) suffers. It shall not always be so! But for now I will still be sparse.

One Hundred and Fourty-five, A Poem Reading

"Our love began with a glance across a parking lot.
You possessed me in just a few days.
I remember long drives through the countryside,
And long weekend getaways.

But the years passed, and like upholstery in the hot sun,
Your love began to fade.
And now in a time when I need your care the most,
You hit the blinker and turn away.

And while our gas tank of love may be running on fumes,
I still have plenty of love to share.
So if you have a quart of tenderness left for me in your heart,
Take me back to Firestone Complete Auto Care."

Roommate received the above poem signed, "Love, Your 2000 Neon." Yeah, corny, yet strangely hilarious!

One Hundred and Fourty-four, Energy

I have energy. We all have energy. It's just a question of how you use it.

One Hundred and Fourty-three, Seat of My Pants

Maybe it's an unconscious way my mind tries to bring excitement to my calm, ordered life. I don't care for this particular excitement. For most of my education, I've ridden an edge. At first it was the A/B edge in grades. Then in college, it was the B/C edge. Now in medical school, where there aren't letter grades, it's the P/F edge. Even now, I sit here having calculated out my grade for the unsure course. It's on the edge. There is one unaccounted-for grade which should push me over into the "safe" zone but it's definitely nerve-wracking. It's been like this since I started in Fall 2006. As always, I keep faith that what's right for me is what will happen, whether I agree with it or not at the time.

One Hundred and Fourty-two, One Hundred Thumbs Up!

Exams this week. Sparse am I.

One Hundred and Fourty-one, Surrounded Yet Alone

Back in October the Engineer celebrated his birthday far away from us all by himself in Texas. In February, the Beatnik looked like he would end up celebrating his birthday in Louisiana far away from us, but the Engineer went up to see him that night. Today I went out in the evening with Roommate, Amish Girl, and another classmate to dinner and dessert.

I didn't realize until today how awesome it was that the Engineer and Beatnik were able to hang out together over something as simple as marking the day one of them popped into this world. I didn't realize until today what it meant to be able to spend part of that day hanging out with each other. I didn't realize until today some part of what it might have felt like to celebrate your birthday on your own. I realized today that we've been celebrating birthdays together since late elementary school. This is the first year where we couldn't all be together for each of our days. I've been receiving endless phone calls today, but only four uplifted me: Valiben, Engineer, Beatnik, and Lord Chaos with the family singing Happy Birthday.

I'm surrounded by great people, but I can't change the fact that I miss the people I've known for most of my life.

One Hundred and Fourty, Dazed and Not Confused

I love moving my body to music. But having had little experience in unknown crowds with it, I get a bit apprehensive about it. Amongst people I know and care about it's much easier and if they happen to be dancing as strangely as I manage, even better. The Beatnik has a saying, "Indians dance whiter than white guys." I think that says it all. Yet whenever I'm with him and the others that comprise my companionship and we're all being goofy, I don't care as much; and it's awesome.

One Hundred and Thirty-nine, Obdurate?

For years, I have this little game of hiding my birthday from the world and congratulating those who successfully remembered it. Some part of me was joyful at this minor power play to see who would be as psuedo-OCD as me and keep track of my birthday. Another part of me just didn't care as much. Growing up birthdays were signified by a sumptuous meal and a visit to the temple. Yeah, my American friends would have grandiose parties and eventually I tried emulating them but my heart was never in it.

This year my birthday will be lost in a weekend where I will be helping throw a charity concert and resting from a hectic week and driving home for a couple nights. One of my best friends is in Texas; the other in California. What I want doesn't necessarily factor into what I get. I want second year to be over and a month off before starting third year rotations. Instead, I'll be working hard to pass my classes. I'll be working hard to pass Step 1 of my Board Exams. I want to go to Chris' town where a gathering will commence on the first of the next month. Instead I'll probably be doing some much-needed vegging-out after a heavy week of studying. I want to be fifteen again. Instead I'll be turning twenty-six.

One Hundred and Thirty-eight, Unconscious

It's been a while since I've awakened from a deep sleep with some random letters typed into an IM window leaving that person to wonder what text I've "entered." Tonight I had fkdjcxm. Oh yeah...

One Hundred and Thirty-seven, Mortal Combat - The Pit Stage

obtained from Here

For the past couple months, a certain area of my room was slowly turning into the Mortal Combat level of yesteryear. Up high on my throne I felt nothing until I went to lay my bare feet down on the floor. Splintered plastic stuck up at odd angles out of the floor mat, threatening flesh and fabric alike. Every roll of the chair caused a cacophony of cracks to fill the apartment. My roommate has attested to hearing me rolling around after he's gone to bed.

Be that as it may, I kept it, in true Indian fashion, until it died. Not just died but hemorrhaged out onto my hands. That day of death was when I rolled forward sending a roller through a hole in the mat. Upon rolling back out later on, I pulled the mat apart. Needless to say, I spent the next five minutes rolling together the falling apart mat. It now sits in an empty bean bag box waiting for its sojourn to the dumpster.

My feet caress the soft carpeting under my chair.

One Hundred and Thirty-six, Brown Sugary Goodness

I got brownies today for doing a good deed! Huzzah! Brownies are always a reason to celebrate, unless they were made by practicing cannibals. As for the rest of life, it's still rushing by at a frantic speed. As I tell others, just one step at a time.

In other news, this exclusive interview of Neville Longbottom caught my attention today. Read it to get an interesting perspective into the wizarding world as reported by Heather! Anne!

One Hundred and Thirty-five, A Masterpiece

I read a lot. But I don't read a lot. I delve into strange, amazing worlds whether they involve magic or spacelanes. I don't read much "normal" fiction mainly because it doesn't hold my attention as well as the well-described worlds in the science-fiction and fantasy novels. Still, sometimes when I read a regular novel, I can appreciate its importance in the fabric of people's lives.

Catch-22 is Joseph Heller's Magnum Opus.

Everyone I've talked to who has read it has only good things to say. Even I feel something different when I read this book. Not just the emotion stirred up but the feeling of being on an immense ride through the author's psyche to experience the same mental climax that he must have experienced. It is such a primal sense of satisfaction when you finish that novel. I loved the book when I read it first some half a decade ago but I'd forgotten why I loved it. Today, I remembered, if only for the last couple chapters of the book, why and I reveled in it. As an escapist, I'm proud to say that I did realize while reading Catch-22 how well-written and powerful this book is. Catch-22 helps define why sometimes people change their lives because of novels.

One Hundred and Thirty-four, Highlights of Tonight

"Everything is upside down!"

This one came up when the precious boy laid down on the floor of the hotel and looked up at a tree which, from that angle, looked upside down.


"Your face is fuzzy!"

I'm carrying him and his arm brushes up against my unshaven chin. Without looking, he begins to slowly rub his arm against my chin. He then brings his hands up to my face and slowly rubs my short bear/heavy stubble. The entire process was involuntary since his attention was elsewhere in the hotel.


"This rock makes music!"

While the adults chat about other matters (like the recent road trip to Texas) the little boy cocks his head at something he can barely hear. Slowly he stands up on his booth seat and walks to the side with a decorative holder containing some plants and some rocks including one huge one. He leans in and changes his head position a couple times before turning back to us and telling us his wonderful discover.

One Hundred and Thirty-three, The Antigloaming

I went to bed at a reasonable time last night and while I had some trouble getting up, it was nothing like what I've had to deal with when I'm running on less than two hours of sleep. Today I ended up snoozing for only 45 minutes and then was functioning properly. I even noticed the water deposited overnight on the window next to my bed.

As I pulled out of the parking lot, the sky had that look of starting to brighten. I noticed a junkyard's electromagnet crane which looked like it was illuminated with sunshine but in reality it was a set of bright lights set upon it (so the operators could see the junk they were moving easily?). The drive in was to Wax Fang's "At Sea" and I just floated into the parking lot. The walk to school was to the start of the Nurse Duckett chapter of Catch-22 (and me humming "At Sea"). I put my jacket away in my locker trying to recall which lecture I had this morning at 8:00 AM. If I recall correctly, it was CNS - Reading Time. Oh... I guess I don't have class for an hour. My head's personal April Fool's joke.

To Blog!

One Hundred and Thirty-two, Pi AM... mmmm...Pie

I had dinner with Woodwind and Lord Chaos (vegetarian Hoagie for me!). We enjoyed catching the second half of "Catch Me If You Can" on ABC. We laughed at the Lighting of the Candles on the Awesome chocolate cake. We enjoyed "The Reaping." And throughout it all, we talked about all sorts of stuff, things that had nothing to do with school or deadlines. Stuff that had to do with the important things, like life.

One Hundred and Thirty-one, Four Weeks

I haven't seen some of my closest friends in person in almost a month... I miss them so I think I'll spend tomorrow (which means today since it is already Saturday) with some of them.

In other news, if I go into end-of-life health care it will be very difficult for me. I'd be honored to do it, but it would definitely be hard for me.

In final news, I'm bad at expressing myself. It's something I should figure out and work on but never really feel comfortable facing my own issues.

One Hundred and Thirty, Gore Galore!

I'd like to take a second to warn you the following excerpt is very graphic.

"They didn't take it on the lam weirdly inside a cloud the way Clevinger had done. They didn't explode into blood and clotted matter. They didn't drown or get struck by lightning, mangled by machinery or crushed in landslides. They didn't get shot to death in hold-ups, strangled to death in rapes, stabbed to death in saloons, bludgeoned to death with axes by parents or children, or die summarily by some other act of God. Nobody choked to death. People bled to death like gentlemen in an operating room or expired without comment in an oxygen tent. There was none of that tricky now-you-see-me-now-you-don't business so much in vogue outside the hospital, none of that now-I-am-and-now-I-ain't. There were no famines or floods. Children didn't suffocate in cradles or iceboxes or fall under trucks. No one was beaten to death. People didn't stick their heads into ovens with the gas on, jump in front of subway trains or come plummeting like dead weights out of hotel windows with a whoosh!, accelerating at the rate of thirty-two feet per second to land with a hideous plop! on the sidewalk and die disgustingly there in public like an alpaca sack full of hairy strawberry ice cream, bleeding, pink toes awry."

I think it's odd that I've read Catch-22 twice and both times the same paragraph stopped me cold with the descriptions held therein. It's not a simple matter of saying that people outside of the hospitals in the war die quite unpleasantly. Different deaths, both inside and outside hospitals, are described in detail to show how the outside world is crazier than the inside world. And I love it. The last sentence really does draw me in for some odd reason (maybe the ice cream and italicized words) and makes me stop after reading it and think to myself, "Wow, how cool!" Note that this is strictly talking about how immersing the paragraph is, not necessarily the different methods of death described within the paragraph.

I'm hungry.

One Hundred and Twenty-nine, A Book from my Childhood

Apparently they made The Giver into a play. Nothing Broadway-sized but a little play designed for grade schoolers to watch after they've read the book and discussed it in class. I hope to see a story I like done in a different manner.

One Hundred and Twenty-eight, The Beauty of Rest

This morning I helped with the physical conundrums of throwing a fundraising 5k run/walk. I had to be there at six in the morn...Yeah, it was tough. The adrenaline from being standing kept most of us going strong but towards the end, it began hitting a lot of us. Not that we looked like sleeping idiots during it, but we could tell our energies were flagging more than they should. Over lunch Amish Girl was getting sleepy-eyed and when I returned during Warcraft, my head would nod off. So I headed off to bed promptly fell asleep for four hours. I'm curious how this will mess with my sleeping schedule, if at all. We'll see!

One Hundred and Twenty-seven, Glass Houses and Match Days

Some days the muse just isn't with me. Ok, so usually the muse isn't with me but at least the thought-god/dess is. I briefly considered writing about this great speaker we had today who gave us practical advice on working in the hospitals and impressing our elders. He also changed from his professional-wear into a Superman suit during his presentation. But I just didn't know where to go with it despite the interesting point he made about all doctors living in a Glass House and professional manners and perception meaning a great deal. So eventually I threw that aside. A friend suggested talking about the awkward moments created by Tucker's red rocket. I haven't really encountered them personally so I'd have no stories to write about it plus in my mind, it's just a dog with his proper biology working. It wasn't like he was doing anything, it was just there. So that didn't grab my mental thought stream for proper writing. My last attempt was going to be about Match Day (which was yesterday). This magical day is the day in March when all fourth year medical students around the country find out where they were placed for their residencies. In case that was confusing, it's where they get their job assignments as freshly minted doctors. The place where they'll slave away their first couple years as the bottom of the totem poles again. While many got placed at my school, I saw a few far-flung ones associated with names I recognized on the list. My high school valedictorian is off to Dallas and the University of Texas. Other fourth years I know are heading to Portland, Maine and Chapel Hill, NC. And many other places elsewhere. But beyond mentioning that, there was no thought going on about my future with Match Day or where I'd like to be placed. Hopefully you'll be reading more about that in a year and a half.

So I leave you with apologies on the lack of content here. Then again, I did write something, didn't I? And it did give you an idea of what is important enough to me to mention: Third & Fourth Year, my friend's suggestion, Residency Decisions.

One Hundred and Twenty-six, Reflections in Front of Me

My head is split in two, approximately half and half. On one side I see a large doorway leading to a dark place with the kind of clutter that brings you down and keeps your head in the ground. On the other side I see a bright exit lit with the bright glow of the the sun shouting at us from the heavens. The left side has some of that light shown but the dark doorway stands there sinisterly. Metallic appendages crawl over the surface along with a pink-ribboned container holding rock candy. The right side's window continues to shed light onto half of my face showing the branches outside. I see long gashes though, even on this bright side, that show minutes of attention from a canine. Above the images in the right corner, I see in simple letters, "POLARIZED."

One Hundred and Twenty-five, The Horizon Cometh

I've been very successful putting off any major decisions in my life. I had to choose a degree program back in high school so I chose "doctor" which gave me a minimum of eight years before I had to worry about the real world. On top of that I chose a five year Masters of Engineering program as my undergraduate degree choice so I had nine years of school to look forward to. In the deal, I got an extra year when I wasn't accepted to medical school my first go-around. Being denied to all my medical schools was one of the best things ever to happen to me! Managed to travel all over the place that year and get in medical experience at a local hospital. Now here I am approaching eight years since I graduated high school. Yes, the real world scares me.

I do have major decisions approaching fast these upcoming two years. They seem to be coming from all over. The largest one that's been staring me in the face and that everybody has asked me about is what specialty I'll pursue in medicine. Everyone tells me they get their ideas during third year when they begin actual rotations. I hope it comes to me as well during that time period.

It'll be a time of moving around and meeting tons of new people many of whom I'll end up forgetting (no matter how hard I try). I even have some away rotations in the works where I'll go to different parts of the state. While trying to learn as much as I can, I'll also be trying to figure out what aspects of each rotation grabs my interest and which goals in life I want to be able to do while working in a particular field. And therein lies the kicker. In my life, I will work really hard at being a doctor, but for me it will never surpass the goal of being a family man. So even if I find some field interesting or engaging, it will be for naught if I can't have a fulfilling home life as well. Again, I trust that the choices I make will be correct whether I agree with them at the time or not. I can attest to the fact that while I have no luck at petty gambling, I have all the luck when it comes to the big things in life.

One Hun'red and Twenty-four, Texan-speak!

As my travel partner pointed out in the previous entry's comment section, we learned some new words while down south thanks to the Engineer. We had fun with them so here they are in no particular order!

doing = durin'
ex. How you durin'? How's your Momma* durin'?

Texans are always "fixin" to do stuff.
ex. I'm fixin to go to work and my Momma's* fixin to take care of my dog!!

dumping = tumping
ex. Well, I'm fixin to tump your Momma* dear son/daughter/offspring.

poke/ticklish jab = joog (spelling is approximated)
ex. You'd better not be fixin to tump my Momma* or I'll joog you!

hundred = hun'red
ex. This'll be the last time I ask how yer Momma's* durin' because I'm fixin to live through a hun'red lives before I interact with that woman I'm tumping, joog or no joog!



*always ask about Momma!

One Hundred and Twenty-three, Things I Recall

- "Defying Gravity" from Wicked the musical
- some of the longest bridges I've been on are in Louisiana
- Don't stay in Gretna
- Museums close early on Sunday in New Orleans
- Getting lost in northwest New Orleans
- yells in the middle of the night
- freakishly empty restaurant
- a car being pushed along by another car
- too many onions in one day
- the video game city of Houston (looks like nighttime downtowns in first person shooters)
- the largest puppy I ever loved (no, I'm not calling him fat)
- puppy logs!
- the Airport departing gate traffic Nazi which combined with
- the Engineer's neck crick proved to be quite humorous (after the events that transpired)
- The Hobbit Cafe! Yay!
- Restaurant waiter/waitress issues
- the Gregarious Kid during Egyptian Rat Screw...scary!
- the Engineer's magic trick with his glass of smoothie and a paper towel
- Hairspray (yes the movie with Travolta dressed as a woman!)
- BRAWL! (Smash Bros.)
- No World of Warcraft! (by choice)
- Losing my voice
- Watching the Kid touch her eye to point out the location of the lacrimal duct when she hadn't washed her hands after eating stuff with jalapenos.
- Crone-voice (myself when I didn't have a real voice)
- Coffee with my friends near a railroad when I barely had a voice
- Getting excited as we came upon the last hour of our trip
- Falling onto a bed for ten minutes post-trip

One Hundred and Twenty-two, 2,222 Miles

Here I sit after having completed a trip that would have taken me from New York City all the way to Salt Lake City. Yeah, I would have a bit of a rush right now if I didn't have class to prepare for tomorrow. Previous to this my longest road trips usually spanned ~500 miles one way up to see my uncle and my baby cousin Valiben. And if I had to make it alone, I think I would have a tough time of it. But this time, I had one of the kids with me and we had a grand time driving down. She even curbed her sleeping time in the vehicle to about an hour. Considering that in previous trips she conks out for entire two or three hours trips, to go on only an hour of sleep during an 9 hours drive was impressive!

We are back in our respective towns now. It felt odd when I last saw her. I felt this surge of emotion over the new bond we've formed through this experience. At the end of it there was this...sadness that the great adventure is stopping. When I drove out of The Kids' town this morning, it was with a heavy heart. She knew she would be returning to her studies and that I would be taking on a new Block of material and that the gung-ho attitudes of Spring Break would fade away, but it was still hard to face it head-on.

And it was exactly what I needed. It was my largest adventure since two years ago when seven of us went up and crashed at my uncle's and visited his area. We got to see both the Beatnik and the Engineer on this trip and while it wasn't for as long as any of us would have liked, it was better than not going and staying home and vegetating while reading books or playing computer games. Sometimes I like it, and this might have been a good week for me to veg out, but I'm damn glad I went on this trip.

One Hundred and Twenty-one, Abandoned? Part Deux

So after escaping the zombies in the small town in Louisiana, we came upon a Popeye's fast food place. Upon going in, I glance at the menu, wince and ask the cashier hesitantly,

"Are the red beans and rice vegetarian?"

"No"

"Uhh...do you have anything vegetarian?"

The cashier paused, then glanced over to her right at the drive-thru lady.

"Do we have anything vegetarian?"

The drive-thru lady also pauses in her activity of putting an order in a to-go bag. She glances back at the manager in the back.

"Do we have anything vegetarian?" She asks.

The manager looks up at me confused. She ponders the menu selections which she knows by heart. Then a lightning bolt hits!

"We can make the red beans and rice without the sausage gravy. That's vegetarian." And now that she has one, she's on a roll. "We also have coleslaw. No? Ok, there are onion rings as well."

My eyes lit up at these, the first option that sounded appetizing. I had Popeye's for lunch that day, and it consisted of an order of onion rings and a fast-food Mississippi Mud Cake. Not an experience I hope to re-create anytime soon.

One Hundred and Twenty, Giggly

We think a little sip* of the EtOH took over and enforced giggliness upon the young one. She still maintains that it was the goofy evening of playing Swap and Egyptian Rat Screw that brought it on, but the Engineer and I know better [sagely nods all around]. After consulting with the Engineer's All-knowing oracular Spirit, we found the opportune time to go to bed. Good thing I never asked it when I had to go to bed! Here I be away from it all and having a great time with these folks. Others are missed, but I'm taking it all in down here while I can. All too soon, the great sojourn back home will begin. Until then, adieu!

*mixed into a smoothie forsooth

One Hundred and Nineteen, Abandoned?

We just wanted some grub before we began the second long driving leg of our trip. So we headed out towards a plantation outside of New Orleans. Arriving at the exit, we drove around looking for a local place to eat at. So we come upon a local restaurant sign and follow it back down a windy driveway with other residential driveways branching off. If I had to live there it would be neat but as a visitor, weaving between the wide, shady Louisianian oak trees was a little creepy. We reach the end of the drive at a gravel parking lot and an open door next to the restaurant's sign. We glance at each other, take a deep breath, and step out of the car. As we approach, there is no sign of life other than the open, dark doorway. We reach the door and step inside expecting a quiet place preparing for their lunch crowd. A large open floor greets us. Chairs are stacked up on the left, some tables are up against a wall on the right, and the air of disuse assails us. Light filters in from wall of windows on the right showing us the dusty air and the lack of any human being. Again, we glance at each other and simultaneously back through the door. As we reach the car and I drive out, we muse how we would not have been surprised if zombies began shambling out of the back doorways into the main room coming after us, "Brains....Brains..."

We drove away quickly, glad that we had escaped the grasp of the undead hooligans. Next on the adventure was going to be finding something vegetarian at Popeye's fast food joint!

One Hundred and Eighteen, Hittin' the Road!

Spring Break is here! I'm on the road with A Kid...[*sniff*]. Posts sparser than ever!

One Hundred and Seventeen, Midnight Puja!

I've been to a decent number of Catholic Masses in my life (my best friends growing up were all Catholic) and I noticed some similarities in midnight celebrations. Depending on which calendar you look at, either March 5th or 6th is Shivratri. That and Janmashtami are the big nighttime celebrations for me in my faith. Both religions have their intricate rituals. Both tend to have some aspect of explanation of the day or the hopes of the priests in how the night will change our patterns for the better. Everyone is rapt with the religious fervor that only comes about by being surrounded by hundreds (or in my case at midnight, tens) of people of like mind who are reveling in it to the same degree as yourself. I went with the intention of heading out after a couple hours. I stayed until 12:30 AM helping to clean up in the last 20 minutes. Even that was peaceful and enjoyable. To know that the work you do is benefiting your place of worship does make a difference in the quality of my work. The passion that is missing at home comes forth when there. I belt out the bhajans with the rest of them and if I happen to get off-key, I fix myself as best as I can without worrying that I'll bring apart the whole fabric that we've sewn together. Whether immigrants or natural citizens here in the US, our faith binds us in ways others might not get to experience.

One Hundred and Sixteen, An Inquisitive Gentleman Who Was

The beady eyes bore through the lenses into my eyes.

"So tell me what you do!"

I explained how I was in engineering school hoping to enter medicine.

"Medicine! Such a fine field! You should work hard to become a good doctor."

I sheepishly glance around the room letting it sit upon my second cousin once removed beseeching her to save me from this senile gentleman.

"So how do you plan to use your electrical engineering in medicine? Research on the electrical signals of the heart or brain? Or going more into imaging? There's plenty of money in imaging and radiotherapies! I know a couple companies that produce medical equipment and they're at the top of the markets these days!"

My head whips around quickly. Here was a man I'd never underestimate again. This man, a repository of knowledge stretching back 80-some years, kept going inquiring about specifics some which I'd know and others I would have to admit of having no knowledge. And it was all interesting! The intensity he used to speak to you made you aware that You mattered and your thoughts on his topics were of the utmost importance to him.

After seeing him back in 2000 and experiencing him for the first time, I began seeing him once each time I went back to India. 2000, 2002, 2004, 2005 -- I met him a total of four times. Yet we imprinted ourselves on each other. I always asked after his health whenever I would talk to my relatives there. And they'd let me know how he always inquired about "that nice boy who chatted with me the one time." We met four times yet for some reason we remembered each other and always asked after each other.

Yeah, it got to me too.
आवता जन्ममा मलीसू दादा।

One Hundred and Fifteen, Day Twenty-Nine

When was the last time you jumped? I still remember asking my dad this question once when I was in high school. He couldn't remember. I was saddened by this.

Here we encounter a day whose very name implies its action: leaping. I hope you had a chance to jump at least once today. Many people in the world either can't, or never think of it. Take a moment, prepare yourself, and jump.

I leaped 7 times today.

One Hundred and Fourteen, When Life Gives You Lemons...

Life's frustrations can be hard to bear at times.

My friends and I were preparing a trip to visit the Engineer down in Texas during Spring Break. Unfortunately, while we'll be down there, he'll be heavily involved with work likely staying there for twelve hour days. So, we make lemonade. We'll still go down and get to visit him (however briefly), his dog, and we'll have a place to use as a base of operations for wandering around his region of Texas. I'm also excited about a side-trip to New Orleans!

One Hundred and Thirteen, Dark Jedi Infestation?

A printer is a wonderful piece of equipment until it doesn't work right. Then it becomes Sith spawn.

~fin~

One Hundred and Twelve, A Bright Red Carnation

I almost missed it as I was walking along reading my fluff book on the way to the library. But the flash of color made me pause. I turned around but didn't see anything. Then as my gaze went back downwards to reconnect with the book, I glimpsed it. In the wintery gray world, its color made it stand out like a beacon. I bent down and picked it up. I imagined how it had gotten there looking so fresh. Was it late for a previous day this month? Or possibly a thank you to a visitor? Perhaps it was just a simple way for one person to say, "I love you," to another. These and more wonderful possibilities flashed through my head. I glanced up at others passing me but they didn't see it. They didn't know another human being was passing them by on their left. I didn't want to just leave it somewhere but I knew there was no purpose to me taking it home. That's when I espied a bench. It wasn't set on the pathway, rather a few feet back within a quagmire of mud. Balancing myself on a couple of thick sticks, I gently laid it down on the bench. Jumping back to the sediment-free (relatively) sidewalk, I looked over my handiwork, proud of what I'd done. I walked away a bit and then glanced back. There it was, the brilliant flash of color in the otherwise dreary world.

One Hundred and Eleven, Juno

"Doctors are sadists; who like to play God and watch lesser people scream."

One Hundred and Ten, Music Movement

"Every now and then I wonder where it went. It used to be all golden and lovely and now it's some sort of decaying mess. No, that's wrong, there's nothing wrong with it, rather I'm the one who screwed it up, went off the deep end. They always said I involved myself too much, I never learned to stay out of things I couldn't comprehend. Yeah, it's true. But you know what? I'd do it again in a heartbeat. Despite the breakdown that inevitably occurs, the vitality the intervening experiences bring rejuvenates me. Make me who I am and I won't deny myself that pleasure even at the expense of the great letdown at the end. Such is my life and I will bear with it."

Sounds like an idealistic martyr, doesn't it? Or a junkie.

I attended my fifth concert ever last night! It was some band I'd never heard of (surprise) and they were pretty good! I watched the people there moving with the music and liked seeing other people who felt the same way I did about the music. I don't have fancy moves to music, just the simple head/body bob and the foot tap. But closing your eyes and making those simple movements to the music is quite relaxing. In reality I guess the compressed sound hits upon my eardrum activating pathways to the brain which simultaneously spits out tons of dopamine if my body moves to the beat. And because of that chemical substance, it's wonderful. Oh yeah, I get high on music, don't you?

In other news, today is the Beatnik's 24th birthday. The Engineer drove up with plans on getting him sloshed tonight. [raises non-alcoholic glass] Here's to you two and good times!

One Hundred and Nine, My Snoring Schedule

I slept in today. I'm finding that this schedule is becoming the norm these days. I get 4-6 hours of sleep per night during weeknights and then I find at least one day on the weekend to sleep in as late as my body allows me to. I don't necessarily enjoy my lack of sleep during the week, but I work to get enough to stay healthy over a week. Plus I just get incoherent without sleep (see previous entry). I've got some big things up on the horizon now. First is my next Block Exam. I know I can knock it out of the park if I put in even half of the time I put in on previous exams. And next is Spring Break. I need the time to catch up on sleep and relax. I can't wait!

One Hundred and Eight, Random Incoherencies

I'm sleepy enough that I'm fall......zzzzzzzzzzz..........ing asleep eyes are useless and a han...........zzzzzzz..........dicap to my teaching methology. You've taugh previsou students and even they can't see what's going on in my head.

[glances at what I just wrote]

I get really goofy when I'm sleepy. So I'm just going to stop.

One Hundred and Seven, What Would Brian Boitano Do?

Wasn't too bad. Odd? Yes, but I didn't freeze up or anything. I just went in and learned stuff and practiced it and came back out. I now know another little bit of being a doctor.

One Hundred and Six, Thank You John Spencer

I feel like I've just witnessed the oddest rollercoaster of emotions and it's all thanks to a TV show. For almost four years now I've slowly been progressing through The West Wing episodes. It's really funny given the general apathy I have towards politics throughout my life. The first time I ever saw an episode was over at the Beatnik and Lord Chaos' family's place. I think it was one of the early shows that still had Sam Seaborn in it. The West Wing finished it's run with a total of seven seasons. One year short of completing two actual terms in the Oval Office. And they really covered a lot of ground there, even after the creator Aaron Sorkin left the show. From the first days of Jed Bartlett's Presidency to the new Election of Matt Santos and a million things in between, every major governmental occurrence that could be written into the show was. Seven seasons, four years is a long time to get to know people, and that's what 156 episodes accomplished. As Heather! Anne! mentioned, one of the best moments was Josh and Donna's carefully structured romantic hookup. There's something to be said for the gradual buildup they had in this show, something about the depth to each character the watchers have come to appreciate over the years.

One thing which I found quite poignant was that one of the actors actually passed away during the taping of the last season. Actor John Spencer died December 16th, 2005. Vice Presidential Candidate Leo McGarry passed away on Election Night, the night his ticket won.

One Hundred and Five, Visiting Friends

Going to visit the Kids and Chris has proved to be a great experience. They're the first people for whom I've made special visiting trips outside of the main group of the Engineer, the Beatnik, and Lord Chaos. For weddings I have visited exotic locales (like Kansas City, MO!) but I don't think to make a long trip just to see someone who I haven't seen in a while. But with these three people, it's definitely worth it. I'm here right now just hanging out and quite content.

One Hundred and Four, Portaling in the Future?

This weekend I'm taking a Road Trip. I'm going off to see the Kids and Chris. Reminded me that it had either been since Christmastime (the kids) or earlier (Chris) that I'd seen them. While the Kids are from the area where they go to school, Chris moved into a new place for his higher education and he's been feeling the lack of his groupies recently. Times like this are when the Engineer's idea of building a personal teleporter sounds great! Or even magick-ing oneself to wherever you need to be! *poof* Texas! *poof* Montreal! *poof* Edmonton! *poof* Brinstar! *poof* Sydney!

One Hundred and Three, Mythical Creature

Say Hi to BoB!

One Hundred and Two, Begin: Endgame

Looking back, luck had a lot to do with it. I imagined having to work really hard at a couple of places before accomplishing my objective, but instead Fortune smiled upon me and gave me the people I needed. We blazed forward through difficulties others quailed before. Rarely had a group this efficient been seen thrown together by the random LFG channels. Yes, Shattered Halls became my peon. During the glorious fight with Kargath, I reached the peak, the pinnacle of the low man in the game: Level 70.

I did it with my friend the Engineer beside me shooting fire from his fingertips and next to the Beatnik who was on the phone with him during the process. Earlier Lord Chaos had given me The Talk about reaching this state of being and how not to take it lightly but I scoffed.

"It's just another goal, what of it?!"

The second it dawned upon me, as one of my groupmates typed, "Congrats!" that it wouldn't happen again, I was floored. This was it for me. I glanced down at the experience bar and it was gone, a figment of my imagination perhaps except for the 480+ hours (over 20 days) where I slogged through, hour after hour, keeping close tabs on that bar. Excitement imminent when the bar was reaching the end and satisfaction when I *dinged* to the new level. The simple reward system was quite gratifying. What began with a level 1 dwarf paladin named Valin in January 2005 has followed a long and bumpy road to this point. In one sense, he even died for 2 years only to be resurrected by the enticement of spending time together with my friends.

My character reached level 70 during a furious battle with Kargath Bladefist at 12:45 AM February 11th, 2008. No one is exactly sure when the event happened during the battle. But the victory was unforgettable as well as the extremely smooth run through that dungeon.

Oddly enough, I was more proud when my friend complimented me on how well I accomplished my role of Main Tank.

One Hundred and One, Inexorable Grades Coming In

I don't get nervous/stressed out when preparing for huge exams, but I do when planning evening outings with friends.

I also get nervous post-exam as the grades start rolling in...

One Hundred, 100 - Actually It's 101

I just felt an urge really to number these. I tried it out using digits but "0" just didn't look that impressive plus some people would inevitably wonder why I typed "o" or "O" without the actual letter next to it to compare. Some organized part of me enjoys a linear or proper pathway for things I interact with regularly. Thing A happens and that causes Thing B to occur. While I try my mind isn't able to keep track when Thing A makes B, C, & D happen. Each of which, in turn, cause E, F, & G; H, I, & K; and Orangutan, Bubbles, & Somatotropin to happen. You see how confusing it can get?

Three digits now. My titles will be nice and long thanks to just the number. Depending on how it makes everything look when I post longer titles, I might modify the look/layout of this place to better accommodate the new length. For those who've been reading since Entry Zero, I hope you've had an interesting ride.

I went to an improv show tonight for the first time in something close to a year. I almost volunteered for one of the skits where someone from the audience provides the details of their day so that the improv group can act it out onstage. Granted I was going to use Monday as my day rather than what actually happened today. Monday, if you glance back at entry Ninety-six, was the day where I practiced a male genital/rectal exam. Hilarity would have ensued!

Ninety-nine, Six Word Memoir

Jovial Reader and Lover of Food.

Thanks to Heather Anne! (see blog links on side) for the idea.

Update March 18th, 2008: Heather Anne is changing her blog so it's not available :( But know that she provided me with this idea!

Ninety-eight, Dog Birthday!

I got Crazy Blonde's dog a birthday card. His name is Lucius. He is adorable. You should love him too!

Note: I missed posting on the 6th again!

Ninety-seven, Methods of Communication

I imagine at one point, like the one-year-old niece of the Beatnik and Lord Chaos, I burbled a lot to people and possibly smiled as they "oooo-ed" and "aaaaah-ed" me. Later on I found I could talk to people about games of various types with different rules (TV Tag rules rocked although we had to specify what TV show names to use since not everyone knew everything--cartoons were a mainstay). Ultimately I entered the close friend era where face-to-face deep conversations would occur. Then came the age of the Instant Message. That proved a mainstay in my repertoire for the past 8-10 years. Of course face-to-face was still present, just not as prevalent as IMs. Now it isn't much of a surprise that I'm entering the era of the phone. Oddly enough most people on this planet with regular access to one have been using them since day one of high school. But due to the proximity of my close friends, I never felt the need to learn how to communicate on it that well beyond, "Yeah, ok, I'll see you in a minute." Nowadays I can hold hour-long talks with people, whether it's the Engineer, Lord Chaos, the Beatnik, the Amish Girl, or the Alaskan.

I wonder what method will come to me in the future!

Ninety-six, Prostate

I just felt a prostate a half hour ago. Felt like a bump on the inside of the fleshy tube. Nothing that gross, nothing that amazing. Just was.

Ninety-five, Auras, Moods, and Emotions Oh My!

Do I reflect those around me? Or do I create my own aura that infects others as well? People can argue both ways. I like to think that I can be a ground for other's emotions when they need it and can be a well of availability for those who want some sunny cheerfulness. But then would that be true or just the truth I want known?

Ninety-four, My Family(ies)

I have two families. I have my family, the Indian one from which my roots come from and I have my American family where by this time I also have planted many roots (Beatnik and Lord Chaos' family). I end up going through the good and the bad with both to some degree. I won't say it isn't hard at times. It's great having these two sources of familiarity and safe-ness but it can also really push me around with the normal demands of upkeep on those relationships. Time to time I feel bad because when I'm home, I'm usually just trying to get some home errands completed that I can't do at any other time. Other times I feel bad because there is some important event that I can't be home to enjoy with them. This is true for both my family and my American family. Having these people in my life is great, but I do have twice the responsibilities (in my head) of other people I know.

These days, the things that brighten my day the most when I'm with either family tends to revolve around the youngest. In my family, there's Valiben, my 3.75 year old cousin, who makes me light up when I hear her yell out my name in joy. In my best friends' family, it's hearing about how the little boy in the family (my buds' nephew) has faith that I'll show up for gatherings to see his little boy. In the past I took for granted both groups of people being there. Now I treasure the encounters I have with each. Whether I'm drilling my grandmother on English or I'm helping out my American family by having fun with Pops while the Mothership is out for the evening, it's worth it. The physical hardships of getting to point A or point B become meaningless in the face of the mental joy that bubbles up from encountering my family--both Indian and American.

Ninety-three, A Second List

Weather
My life as an Indian growing up here
Books (mainly science-fiction)
Engineering school and five years of college there
Video games (mainly computer)
Experiences with my friends
Movies I've seen
Travels I've undertaken
Pointless musings that I come upon somehow
People's health
Where to eat
Medical school stuff
Current life issues my friends and I have
Valiben
Computer Stuff (building, comparing, etc)

These are the things that I have conversations about. I realized while typing them out that I do have a decent amount of stuff I can go on about. But still, at times it feels lacking. Maybe because recently my conversation topics have been limited to a select few. I have an image of a box being built slowly, surreptitiously, and I'm within the confines of it. I still can't see the walls, but it's out there angling in towards me. Last I checked, I'm not paranoid. I figure this is just my natural inclination to resist change. We'll see how things will play out in the coming days.

Ninety-two, Empty and Full

I don't really know what to write. I have successfully pushed aside myself in the past few days in order to properly cram for my exams tomorrow and Friday. My mind is filled with facts about Baclofen (CNS muscle relaxant), Hyoscyamine (Muscarinic Receptor Antagonist), Pemphigus Vulgaris (one type of blister), Bullous Pemphigoid (another type of blister), Ductal Carcinoma, Bowenoid Papulosis, Multiple Sclerosis, and more. I have spent quality time with some friends, and not seen others. I have talked with my family, but not for any long length of time. I have been playing games when I can, but not every day. I have been putting a lot into these exams. We shall see how they turn out.

Ninety-one, Boom Booms!

"Me likee teh esplozions. They were like, BOOM! O_O And I was like woah... O_o Then they like, skating man! *_o i like it.. I watchez again"

It's good that the Internet makes me laugh so much. From one point of view, BebopJelli could be raised on English like this. From another, more optimistic, point of view, she/he was being very creative in the description of this video. If you care to look for it, BebopJelli's comment is still there, 16 pages from the last page of comments. As for the video, while it's neat, not having been a skateboarder myself (or one blessed with much balance at all), I have little to relate to in the video other than liking the explosions in some of them. (thanks dooce for pointing out the comments)