Friday, October 3, 2008
Saturday, August 23, 2008
One week in, and so far, it's wonderful. Having gone to an utterly mediocre undergraduate institution with a great chemistry program, I certainly can appreciate my awesome professors at med-school. Though I've only been here a week, I can see that I am truly fortunate to be going to such a great school. The professors are organized, intelligent, professionally dressed, and utterly devoted to our success. The school as a whole is extremely well organized.
I'm unprepared for the future. So far, biochemistry has been a review. I am feeling confident and competent. That will change in the next few days as I begin anatomy, cytology, and histology.
The real "arrival" moment was meeting our cadavers. I've been looking forward to this for a long time. I think anatomy is absolutely fascinating, and now I'll have the chance to really see it and study it. I'm sure that will also involve a lot of cursing and crying - I'm not that jaded. I've written a poem for my cadaver. It's not brilliant, but I felt it, and I meant it, so here it is -
A Grandmotherly expression
chubby - with happy smile-lines
I can imagine you
baking a pie
You have intelligent eyes
I can see that
though they are closed
You are short and possibly Asian
You have large breasts
I wonder who loved them
You look loved
-nice skin, pretty silver hair
And here you are
giving everything that's left
of your physical self
I will remember that
and I will love you
At this point in my extremely nascent medical career I am very happy and content. I love learning new things. I love complexity, and I have this amazingly supportive extended family (classmates) with whom to share this journey. I hope this feeling can be kept when things get tough.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
And so it begins - my adventure, my new life. It's terrifying. I'm one of those people who tries to control everything. I'd realign the stars if I could - I'd make them all equidistant, but I'd vary the brightness to keep it interesting.
To future physicians - just when you think you have it all together, you find out you're wrong. In order to have any fun at all, one has to let a few things slip. For example, I could have my book bag packed, my loans secured, my orientation papers laminated. . .but instead I've read books, had some coffee, basked in the shower. Life is good. Oh yeah, and played on Pandora. It's so wonderful. I'm not suffering with my new Bose ear-buds, either. Back to the poor medical student -
So one must plan their move, and in my case find a house manager and rent the house I own in Ohio, get a new bank account, secure loans, do the mandatory loan counseling thing online, defer the loans that one can, change one's address and have bills/catalogues forwarded, get school supplies, get a new license, register the car in a new state, check with school and make sure one's immunizations are taken care of, get the vaccines/titers/skin tests needed, send proof of health insurance to one's school. . .and these are just the things that pop immediately into my head. Yes, I'm keeping lists. It's hard to be organized when your life is in boxes in the middle of the living room floor!
I now understand a teeny bit about making time. I've hardly done anything with my husband this week, and it was supposed to be the "crazy-go-nuts" final hurrah. Sorry, babe. What are you doing tonight?
You know, I used to be the kind that freaked out about, well, everything. One overdraft was the end of the world. I'm getting better. My account was viciously overdrawn, because the teller put a big check into the wrong account. My student loan was delinquent, because I misunderstood my deferment. I didn't freak out! I called the bank and poof - all better. I called my loan people, couldn't understand the guy from India, was transferred to the US, and poof - problem solved. Oh yeah, I have to call my former health insurance people - they don't want to acknowledge my dental plan. I should go take care of that.
I elected this life. I think it will be good for me, though it will probably be the death of me. You know what - I'm going to make some bread later today. I think it is time to introduce my new kitchen to my challah.
Saturday, July 26, 2008
This past Tuesday my heart was broken. I went downstairs to feed the little rattie beasties, and my Christopher did not come up to greet me. I prayed that his hearing had deteriorated further, and he just hadn't heard me. Sadly, I found him curled up in his purple house, no longer in this world.
He was still warm and soft. His eyes were still glistening black. Thank G_d I found him this way. I've been thanking G_d everyday. My precious critter was gone, my highest hopes for his death were realized. He died a healthy, old rat, presumably in his sleep, and I got to hold him soon thereafter. My only regret is that I hadn't really played with him in the past couple of days. Of course I loved on him, but not "this is your half-hour with Mom."
Some may say it's silly to love such a pet. He was only a rat. However, he was so much more to me. I'd never had a companion that showed so much love and patience. He was playful and smart. He was gentle and so loving. He let me kiss him like crazy and scruff up his little bit of fur (he was almost bald).
For nearly three years I got to enjoy his precious self, and for that I am truly grateful. I can only hope and pray that he knew, in his little rattie brain, how much I adored him.
You meant so much to me, Christopher. May you rest peacefully knowing that you were such a joy. B'shalom, little beast.
Monday, July 7, 2008
I've been writing poetry since I was in the forth grade. I hope you like some of these.
On Love - written in 2004
Pen in hand
a bitter love note
written with the scratching
sound of angry
one final stab
the last say
you had it coming
you deserved it
mouthing the words
one corner of my lip
Clean sheet of paper
On Coffee Houses - written in 2007
into unknown lives
troubled smile lines
big soft chairs to cushion
the ones that don't hold you
for sad people
On Aging (Le Sigh) - written in 2005
I'm filling out
the days are getting
the winters are harsh
the summers hotter
I don't understand
Kids these days
I'm out of style
out of touch
Bacchus help me
I'm not so pretty
Into the Dark - written in 2003
to close the door -
Lest the memories
to claim your life
And all the while
at your stupidity
A small smattering. Perhaps I will keep it coming; I have tons and tons of stuff.
I had a wonderful weekend despite the upstairs toilet dying a sad, leaky death. Of course, being utterly neurotic, I lost an entire night's sleep worrying about it. It's a toilet! Really, it's no big deal. But huge quantities or water and vast sums of money. Oy.
Speaking of neurotic - I had to laugh at myself. Here I am, dropping a perfectly successful teaching career to go traipsing off to medical school, converting to Judaism (two weeks left to go), and thinking, "Hey, I should totally go vegan!" Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it's true, I am strange, bold, and never idle (unless the couch phenomenon gets me). For those not privy to the couch phenomenon - that's when you sit down on the couch with a cup of perfect coffee and get to thinking or watching the birds or pondering one's unbelievably strange neighbors. We have one set of neighbors that only allows their children to play between the garage and back of the house. That's approximately 15 square feet in which to roam! They even have a plastic fence to keep them back there. Yes, they are of the extremely conservative sect. They don't want their dim-witted, obese, blond, screaming brats to interact with the heathen black kids next door. The heathen black kids come from a nice Christian family. However, they are black, and that's bad. I heard Mr. "I'm a super-good Christian" curse loudly when the black family moved in. Really Sir, you're gunna be all right.
So I called in sick to work today. I do have a sore throat. I am tired; I didn't sleep. I think some bike riding and coffee drinking should do the trick. Perhaps I will sit my rear down and really study Hebrew. I seem to moonlight with it. I love the language, but it's so difficult that I get frustrated. Anyone who thinks it appropriate to point out that medical school is pretty tough will be ignored. I reserve the right to roll my eyes at you. I guess I do best with a drill master, or at least a curriculum that won't allow me to whine and then go off-course, usually with a coffee and sketch book in hand. I need external discipline. Alas, I am not focused enough on my own. This saddens me. "Five times a day, with bricks."
I have a feeling that something delicious is about to be made in my kitchen! Shalom y'all.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Ever heard of Pandora.com? It's wonderful. I'm listening to my Ani DeFranco mix right now. I'm convinced they have everything.
This evening I spent quite a portion of it preparing for my husband's arrival tomorrow. I want him to feel very. . .welcomed home. Ladies - we sure go to a lot of work. However, in my more girly moments I admit to myself that I like it. I like preparing and painting my nails. I like sitting around listening to good music and plucking my eyebrows. I love the way my body feels after shaving. I can't wait for him to come home and smell my new scent - I mixed two fragrances from Bath and Body Works. Yummy. I shall be wearing something wonderful and I will have a great lunch prepared with a CD mix going on in the other room. I may have also picked up a few beverages.
An a slightly less private note - it seems like couples give up after a few years. Today at work people were talking about their spouses. To me it sounded like their other half just wanted a little attention. I told one guy to take home some flowers and maybe a treat that she likes and then not ask for "goodies." You see, she'll feel loved and not just sought-after and then she will come and get it; as it were. We ladies just like to know that we are cared about and that you really tried to do something sweet. This goes the other way too. I know that any man appreciates when his girl gets all fancy for him and makes him feel like a King. I don't understand why people can be so selfish.
My parents gave me two bits of advice when I got married. First, never make him guess what I'm thinking. Second, be nice. These two things have helped a lot. I'm far from perfect, but everyday I get up and try again. Everyone tells me that after _____ number of years that will change. That used to be a few, or five, but now that we've been together for almost nine (married for almost five), people have bumped that number up to ten or some other arbitrary number. I hope to prove you all wrong and to show that a gentle give-and-take is the best way. It helps to have the best husband of all the husbands.
This is a super-selfish post; I hope you'll forgive me. Wish me a good weekend.