Two Hundred and Fifteen, Match!

March 17th, 12:00 PM is when I find out where I'll be for the next three years of my life!

Two Hundred and Fourteen, The Spark!

Often I'm reminded by a few friends why I need to stay in my college town. Why? They love me. And I do love them. So what pushes me to go away--far far away? My father went around the world for his education, then career, and brought me into the world here as well. Talking to him teaches me that none of it was preplanned. It just happened that way. With the sole exception of that first foray over here. What spurred him to it? That is what I wonder because I'm searching hard for that part of me that will send me off into the corners of the country. I need to know who I am and cut my own path through this world. I love my friends. At times I feel stifled by that love because I worry about meeting enough people to find some who think like me while hanging out in the same places. I need to get out and away--someplace where I can meet others in a similar boat and we can explore our new boundaries, such as we choose to set.

Another sun-soaked season fades away...

Two Hundred and Thirteen, Departures

I watch as some of my friends in the past month have proceeded to pack up their belongings and either move or prepare to move as their residencies begin, husbands return to jobs in other cities, and simple need to get outta Dodge sets in. Some of our crew here would fight this, the general erosion of our people out of the cracks of the city to other places. I say Go, Go Boldly and announce yourselves. Whether you go simply to the suburbs, to states a goodly drive away, or to the other side of the nation, Go! Chase your dreams and your education and your spouses. If you must return, come home with the knowledge that you lived while you were where you went. And always remember that we all love each other lots and we can draw strength from that wherever we are.

Two Hundred and Ten, Stagnation

It's not that life is stopping all around, it's just that my personal development has slowed down to a crawl. I see myself as the same person who entered medical school four long years ago. Have these years meant nothing to the personable side of me? Can that side really have remained unchanged as my professional side underwent immense challenges? I look around at people moving forward with their lives--their real ones that matter! and see that I will have to work just as hard at my life as I do for my future career. While I rarely assume things will fall in my lap in most things, I see that in this area I have remained quite naive. Things will work out as they usually do but I will have to help it along a lot. And that means I have to learn, and learn quick.

But what is it I need to learn?

Two Hundred and One, Time's Endless Progression

My world is static to me.  I wake up, go to school, come home, hang out with the same peeps, sleep.  Rinse.  Repeat.  Ever since high school, my life has consisted of this same pattern.  There were some derangements such as weddings or the birth of some new kids or the passing away of some folks but my immediate life has had no change.  At home people still argue a lot and do things the way they want instead of compromising.  At my friend's place, we still get together and play games.  In my college town, I still go out to dinner with people to have a good evening.  I still play computer games like crazy.  I still make mini road trips to see other friends in nearby towns.  

The doc I worked with on my away rotation went through medical school not expecting children since his wife had had extensive radiation for an early cancer and was deemed infertile.  To his surprise, a few years into his established family practice, he had a couple little girls.  He told me how before the girls, time for him was at a standstill.  Now with the little ones, he sees old mannerisms disappearing while new ones begin all the time.  To him time is running rampant and he cannot get it under control again.  He loves his daughters very much but still admits he misses things they used to do when they were younger.  

I don't cuddle up with my dad anymore.  I also don't fall asleep on my grandmother's lap while we watch an evening movie.  I also don't cutely offer to help with cleanup after dinner and instead make sure I do the heavier cleanup so no one else must.  I do still run over to my friends' home but stay much later than I used to.

Tomorrow I go to take another test in a multitude of tests I have taken and that I have yet to take.  After it is over, I will celebrate by either running around outside a bit, paying bills, or playing Warcraft.  Then Saturday I'll drive home for a night.  All of it has happened before and will happen again.

But one day it won't!

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-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, 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-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, 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-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 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-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-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 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 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-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.