Little Plastic Castles

New Blog for a New Start

2008-10-03T14:07:00.002-04:00

It has come to my attention that my new blog does on appear on the old one. So here is the link, if you're interested in following along. I hope you are all well. http://becomingamedicaldoctor.blogspot.com/

A New Beginning

2008-08-23T21:19:00.002-04:00

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
to me
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.

So This is It?

2008-08-14T15:21:00.003-04:00

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.

My Beloved Rattie

2008-07-26T22:54:00.002-04:00

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.

Poetry

2008-07-07T20:38:00.003-04:00

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
unsaid
unfelt
insults
one final stab
the last say
you had it coming
or rather
you deserved it
mouthing the words
one corner of my lip
bitten
Clean sheet of paper
silence
"I'm sorry."

On Coffee Houses - written in 2007

Metallic sculptures
hard lines
consummate angles
Friendly conversation
little glimpses
into unknown lives
beautiful faces
shining eyes
troubled smile lines
big soft chairs to cushion
you
like arms
the ones that don't hold you
Happy music
for sad people

On Aging (Le Sigh) - written in 2005

I'm filling out
getting rounder
older
wiser
the days are getting
shorter, colder
the winters are harsh
the summers hotter
I don't understand
Kids these days
I'm out of style
out of touch
your touch
Bacchus help me
I'm not so pretty
anymore.

Into the Dark - written in 2003

Always remember
to close the door -
behind you
Lest the memories
escape
to claim your life
And all the while
laughing
at your stupidity

A small smattering. Perhaps I will keep it coming; I have tons and tons of stuff.

Lovely Lazyness

2008-07-07T10:22:00.002-04:00

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.

Blogolatio

2008-07-03T20:03:00.005-04:00

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.

Separation of Hallah

2008-06-26T21:46:00.002-04:00

Here is a photo of the separated portion of the hallah. This time I remembered to take down the smoke alarm before it scared me half-to-death.

Shabbat

2008-06-26T21:43:00.003-04:00

This evening I baked hallah (the first h sounds like a vicious throat-clearing). My house smells fantastic. Tomorrow I will take a loaf to work, one to a family with whom I'll be having dinner, and a friend. I shall keep one for myself. I also baked some wicked-good pita for my delicious (or so I say) hummus. I am super-tired. G'nite.

A Shout Out

2008-06-24T22:53:00.003-04:00

My friend from work introduced me to "Conversate is not a word." Fantabulous (also not a word)! You must check it out.

I am a deadly honest person. I pride myself on that. However, it sometimes gets me into trouble. I remember when Eminem first made his way into the light. I remember thinking, "Well, at least anybody can be called the 'N' word now." Kind of takes the edge off. In fact, I loved it. It is the ghetto culture that I can't stand. It has nothing to do with skin color, but I'd be stoned to death if I came out and said that.

There is a culture of ignorance and blame that pervades the "ghetto," or shall I call it "urban centers" or "the community?" As a white person, I'm really not supposed to write this, but to hell with it. Anyone can be great, if they give a damn long enough to find their potential.

If you fail, you fail. I'm not going to medical school because I'm brilliant. Hardly. Far from it. I've worked so hard for this. I'm going to continue to work. I want this badly enough to go and get it. Surprise! Your wonderful life isn't going to be handed to you.

Do we need to help boost people up who've been given a rough lot? I think so. If I had a cello student who couldn't pay, but wanted to learn and was willing to work - no questions asked, I'd do it for free. And yes, I've taught a lot of free lessons. Life isn't fair, but don't come whining to me. If you want something, go get it. No excuses. Happy belated Juneteenth - to those who risked everything because they gave a damn.

PS Niggardly means to be stingy. It has nothing to do with a horrible racial slur, even etymologists agree. Sorry David Howard - fired due to gross incompetence. My country embarrasses me. Sweet land of liberty. . .

PPS Destroy your TV

Circuits are Hard. . .

2008-06-06T17:58:00.003-04:00

I had to eat my words, and swallow my pride today. Le sigh. I got into work this morning to find half of the lab flooded. The water system was overflowing. I turned off the water and put the systems on stand-by. I figured something was wrong with the sensor that controls the shut-off. I set-up a technician visit, and then the "yes, I really can do anything" man showed up. He's a "PhD'ed" individual with huge reserves of raw brain-power. So Mr. Amazing climbs up onto the lab bench, opens the tank, pulls out the sensor (which is about 3.5 feet long), climbs down, and proceeds to show me how it works.

The sensor is a series of resistors in parallel with a series of switches running between them like ladder rungs. As the water-level rises, the magnetic float rises too and closes a switch at for every 5% of the tank that fills. This shorts the circuit and allows the sensor back in the wall to sense how much current is flowing, and thus how full the tank is. He proceeds to check the magnetic sensor by moving it up and down the circuit and reading what the machine says. That seems to work just fine.

Mr. Amazing goes back to the "box" and starts looking at the wiring. He takes apart a plug and notices copper chloride (corrosion from getting wet) sitting in the bottom. He determines that this is the cause of the problem. He says he'll go to Radio Shack and buy and new one, and in the meantime I need to figure out how the circuit works. . .

He comes back, fixes it, and we're back in business. As for me - I figured it couldn't possibly be that simple. I over-analyzed it and finally asked him to draw it for me. Damn-it, I would have been correct! Chalk one up to self-doubt. Ach, I wish I were smarter.

Sleep!

2008-06-03T21:45:00.003-04:00

It's been awhile. I've been on some excursions.

I'm learning to write left-handing to improve my motor skills. I'm back to Judaism (just a little vacation, that's all). I've been drawing, learning Hebrew, writing poetry, doting on my ratties, and fixing the plumbing in my sketchily plumbed bathroom. I am unstoppable, or rather, I have insomnia. Oh, and I did have a plumber come and do the scary stuff.

Insomnia is truly evil. I've suffered from it since I was in middle school. The only things I know that really work are writing all of my thoughts to quiet my mind, taking a high-powered prescription sleeping pill, and a glass of wine. I shall be continuing to steps two and three shortly. After four days on less then four hours of sleep, I'm getting loopy.

I need to practice my cello, but that will have to wait until tomorrow. The truly suckiest thing about being an adult is responsibility. I've done laundry, cleaned, washed dishes, gone grocery shopping, tended to my little buddies (the rats). . .all stuff I don't mind, but it eats up all of my time. Sigh.

I apologize for shamelessly laughing at my male colleagues - the water system went down today. I know how to take the thing apart, but my male colleagues wanted a crack at it. They all stood around talking about what needed to be done, which wasn't even close to correct. Then they asked me if I had done some truly stupid things, which I had not, and I suggested to them that I take it apart for them so they could check out the inside. I did this on purpose so I could watch them volley for machismo points. It was priceless. In the end, I put it back together so a technician could come and fix a crack that had developed inside the system. I said that at 10:30 in the morning, but the "boys" figured it out by 4:30 in the afternoon. I was completely ignored. Ach, I still had the satisfaction of being right all along. Now all I need is a pink tool belt. I did call one of them princess. I probably shouldn't have done that. Perhaps with a bit of sleep I'll be nicer and less evil. We shall see.

The Endless Wonderings of the Brain

2008-05-11T12:32:00.009-04:00

I wonder if I am alone in my media-created caricature of John Kerry-like thinking. By this I mean I am the ultimate "flip-flopper." I all too often change my mind. I've been thinking about religion lately, as my husband expressed concern over converting to Judaism. They (my in-laws) are conservative Baptist types, who may very well disown us if we convert. I also don't know if it's right to chuck my upbringing out the window in favor of what I see as a more fulfilling religion. Fulfilling in the sense that a lot of Judaism has to do with bettering oneself and the world for future generations. This, of course, is a gross over-simplification. There are many upsetting and I dare say even wrong tenets of Judaism.

I like my "old-faithful" - atheism. However, that is so empty. How would I feel on my death-bed? Well, this is it - good-bye world! Not very satisfying. No one to receive my prayers, hopes, sorrows, and thanks? But really it's true. We laugh at witchcraft and the Norse gods, but look at us - we're no better. It's comforting, but so stupid that it's laughable too. Why would there be or have ever been a divine creator who put "man" here as the pinnacle of creation. How utterly arrogant to assume we are the best that this god could do. We are barbarians. We are selfish. We use circular logic that redefined as faith seems okay.

Certainly there are things we cannot explain. However, god does not stand up to scrutiny either.

One thing I know for certain - coffee is good.

Gefilte Fish!

2008-04-06T18:37:00.007-04:00

In Judaism, we don't see the various movements as our kin, but rather as our foe. It's not like a problematic family member whom we love anyway, but instead we dismiss and even despise one another.

I had been attending an orthodox synagogue for awhile. I really enjoy the Rabbi's d'var Torah (thoughts about the weekly Torah portion), and his Torah class. However, there has always been an air of superiority, and he never asks me a question, but only the men. Okay, I could handle that. I decided to meet him in person with my husband.

We had a nice chat, but it became clear that to be an orthodox Jew meant accepting all of the practices, whether or not they're valid. I asked him exactly what the orthodox community would think about me having a career and my husband running our household. He said they would say we are crazy. We would not be accepted. That got me thinking.

All right, so my way of life is not orthodox, but I did not choose to be the kind of person I am. Neither did my husband. We try to be the best people we can be, but there is still a personality with which one is born. One can even see this in babies. So what if a person is homosexual?

No homosexual that I have ever met chose to be that way. No sports-challenged man chooses to be that way. No weight-lifting, tobacco-chewing woman chooses to be that way. We are what we are. I happen to be a leader by nature. I can't sit back and watch the world go by. I have to be a part of it.

I tried to be a homemaker. I absolutely hated it. Loathed it. Despised it. I wanted to be a homemaker. I would have been proud to have been a stay-at-home mom. I couldn't do it. It's not me. I think I knew that before I even got started.

So I went back to school to follow my passion - medicine. My husband would like to stay home, which is great. He would be an amazing father. So what is so wrong about doing what we are best able to do? In my eyes - nothing.

I spoke to my Rabbi about this - he is conservative and runs a completely egalitarian synagogue. He agrees, and even gave me permission to put tzit tzit (the fringes on one's garment that reminds a person to live a life of Torah) on any daughter(s) that we may have. I refuse to raise a daughter as a second-class citizen. Traditionally, only men wear these. He told me to get a tallit (prayer shawl) for myself. I left that meeting feeling inspired and able, as opposed to feeling guilty for not fitting the mold.

After much soul-searching I've come to realize that the greatest goals come from both Rabbis - above all be kind, and everyone should "do" Judaism if it's going to have any meaning for future generations. Dayenu.

2008-04-01T21:20:00.008-04:00

What to do with myself? I have a few more months to live in this town (unless I get bumped to the class of 2013 - which could happen). I want to do some tutoring or hospital volunteer work. Is it wrong to do something like that so short term? It's not just for me that I want to volunteer, but also for the people with whom I would work.

My new job is going well. I have not breathed a word about medical school. There have also been some changes made that will hopefully improve things. Right now my work load is absolutely insane. It's making me a bit edgy too. I hate being that busy. I hate thinking about work when I'm home. Ach, hopefully things will lighten up soon.

About Conservation International - Not only did they respond to my question about the giant rat found in Indonesia, but here is what they actually said -

Thank you for submitting an inquiry to Conservation International. Your

interest is greatly appreciated!

I understand you are interested in CI's expedition to the Foja Mountains

in Indonesia, specifically the species found there. For this 2007

expedition CI neither collected nor harmed any animals. However, the

Bogor museum scientist who traveled with us did collect and preserve

specimens of mammals that are new to science, in order to describe these

new species for the museum.

CI's policy regarding collecting specimens of species is to always be

respectful of the wishes of local communities when on expeditions, as

well as considering the health of the ecosystem. For example, in the

2004 marine survey of New Caledonia's coral reefs, no collections were

made, in keeping with local tribes' wishes.

If you would like more information about CI's policies or about any

particular expedition please feel free to reply to this message or write

to community@conservation.org. I'd be happy to send any specific

questions you have to the scientists who were in the field. Thank you

again for your interest is Conservation International and your concern

for the environment!

Cheers,

Lindsay Walter-Cox

Online Promotion Coordinator

Conservation International

A bit of rare honesty. I need to write them back and thank them. I'm glad they left it alone. I wish research groups would do that more often.

And still my house sits on the market. I think today will be another double post day. I have other thoughts tumbling through my head.

I'm Going to be a Doctor!

2008-03-29T21:41:00.004-04:00

Finally, the wait is over. The dread is over. The exhaustion and worry and absolute nirvana is over. I'm in! I will be attending a great DO school somewhere in the south-ish. Yes, it's the one I liked. Phew - I don't have to find money to fly to California.

It hasn't quite settled on me yet. I'm in a state of shock and confusion. Is it real? Did someone finally notice me? Yes, they did. Instead of starting on my path to wellness, I ate fettuccine alfredo. Perhaps a good rock climbing date is in my future.

On an unrelated note - I wrote to Conservation International about the giant rat - that's who did the research. So far they have not returned my email. Being about conservation, I would hope they left the critter alone. They damn well better not have put it in any sort of cage or zoo or lab!

I started my new position at work. Oh it's so much better. I make buffers and solutions for cells and tissues in our pharmaceutical work. My husband is convinced that they will move me through every position so I can tweak it into submission. I am absolutely anti-bullshit. I do my work in the fastest and most accurate way possible with no frills. I don't wait for someone to tell me how it's going to be - I fix it and let them tell me it was a good idea. I'm not a jerk about it. I'm not pushy or rude, but when I'm absolutely certain that something can be done better, I do it and wait for management to decide that I had a good idea. So far my work has been great. They are happy and the results are good. No more endless stacks of paperwork! I have been handed some really good fortune lately. Now if someone would just buy my house. It's really nice, just come and take a look. . .

I need to figure out how to pay for medical school and the possibility of a family somewhere during my medical school years. I'm not getting younger or more fertile. Instead of fretting and losing sleep - I will just let the chips fall and pick up any that roll under the couch.

PS: I have never gambled on any day other than Purim.

2008-03-25T22:18:00.004-04:00

I had my first interview one week ago. If life wasn't confusing enough - I loved it! I absolutely loved it. However, the town is tiny. I have no problem with that, in fact, I think I would really enjoy living there. Besides, there is a very nice coffee shop - I need nothing more.

So what's the problem? Absolutely no Jewish life. None. The nearest synagogue is one hour away, and it's one of those Reform, part Buddhist, part Unitarian, part "who needs rules?" kind of places. Not my thing. The next nearest synagogue is a mere three hours away. I have a meeting tomorrow with my Rabbi to discuss this.

I think I could survive two years there and then move to a more Jewish place for clerkships. I think the school would be great, minus some of the manipulative medicine stuff, which sounds like expensive chiropracy or massage. Perhaps I will change my mind.

Look at me! I should say, perhaps I will change my mind if I'm accepted. Still no word from a few Ohio schools, a few DO schools, and one school in New York. Maybe I will get a miracle.

I guess if I want this badly enough (and I do), and I care about Judaism enough (which I do) I'll find a way to make it work.

Oh, and I did wear my kerchief to interview. I hope that wasn't a bad idea. Personally, I thought I looked lovely and very professional.

The picture is of a giant Indonesian rat that was found in the jungle. It's the largest on record. Personally, I think it's beautiful. I hope they let it live. I'll look into that. . .

Two for the Price of One

2008-03-04T22:11:00.005-05:00

I am notorious for writing blogs with loose ends and incongruent paragraphs. I decided that it would be best if I wrote two in one day to keep the randomnity at bay.

This past weekend I attended an Orthodox synagogue. The woman who sold me my "medical school interviews" suit recommended that I try the one in my town. I told her I was too much of a feminist for something like that. She pushed the issue - I caved - I went.

I was prepared to hate it. I thought the women, in their section, would be chatting about the latest episode of "Survivor" (especially since Orthodox Jews aren't supposed to own televisions) or something equally mindless, and that they would not be paying any attention, or be able to read Hebrew. I was so wrong - about everything. They were very intelligent. There was no idle chatter, except for the usual "Hello, how is your mother?" type of stuff. They followed the Hebrew very well, and some women, stood and recited Kaddish when it was time (strictly not okay). I hang my head in shame for my assumptions.

All right, but what about all of the negatives. Just delve into it a little bit, and it's quite clear what the very orthodox men think. Read the bible - it's in there. We are unclean, we are frivolous and foolish. We are very much expendable, with regard to our bodies, unless we're the sister or daughter of someone important. Men count towards a minyan, women do not. Something about not having to complete "time" commandments, because we are too busy having babies. However, for those who have stay-at-home husbands, and work to support their families - well, tradition holds - no tallit for you! Why?

However, I've seen egalitarian synagogues, and for the most part, I am not only unimpressed, but angry. It doesn't work. The families are weak, and the traditions even weaker. We tried to make improvements, and instead we cheapened the whole thing. It didn't have to be that way. It shouldn't be that way. Could I raise a daughter in the Orthodox tradition? I don't know - how would I answer her questions? Mommy likes that the people here are actually doing Judaism, so we come to this synagogue. Mommy likes that these women are strong and intelligent. Mommy doesn't like that the egalitarian women expend the majority of their brain power on shopping and magazines.

I have no idea what to make of this. Until then, I will sit on the right side and listen to the men.

Two Medical School Interviews and Medical Bloopers

2008-03-04T21:47:00.003-05:00

Yeah! I now have two interviews. Both are DO schools, one of which I am interested in attending. The second interview is the lowest on my list, but it's better than nothing. I'm still waiting on my state to reply. Is it hopeless at this point? Why has Ohio been so silent. I applied to a few schools here, and nothing. I feel so stood-up.

I had a wonderful chat the other day with a medical student. I was at one of my specialists' offices, and had been waiting for over an hour. I was not happy, and they couldn't find my chart. Anyway, he had to deal with my wrath first. Of course, send in the new guy to deal with an unhappy Jew. He turned out to be really great. We ended up talking about medical school and being nontraditional applicants (of which he was one). He doesn't think it's hopeless, but maybe he was just being nice.

Of course when things get crazy, they get crazy in piles. So here I am going to my various doctors, and each one wants to do something extra. I have so many appointments right now, it's ridiculous. I certainly don't have any horrible medical conditions, just some rarities that I think doctors love. I imagine getting a different "case" is kind of exciting.

So what will these schools ask me? Will I need to know what's going on in Cambodia? Will they ask me who I voted for in the primary and why? Do I need a good plan for the future of medicine? Should I pretend that I don't wear a headscarf? At least I plan on wearing a nice brown suit, and not the traditional black. The neckline is still kosher.

Help!

Pharmaceutical Scut-Monkey

2008-02-08T21:48:00.000-05:00

This is not a nice term for what I do, however, it is not completely untrue. Currently I oversee all the drugs that come into and go out of a pharmaceutical testing and development company. Soon I will be moving on to the all-important job of buffer making! Please hold your applause until the end. Why in the world am I willing to do this? Because I want to work in the electrophysiology department without having to obtain a degree in electrophysiology. This way, if I have to hang-out here for another year while trying to get into medical school. . .again, at least I'll be doing something interesting.

What the heck is electrophysiology? I'm glad you asked. It is (in my case) testing the effects of pharmaceuticals on heart tissue (in certain ion channels). Basically, we want to know if the drug that company X would like to put on the market is going to kill you. Pretty neat, huh? So we take a heart, cut it into pieces, stimulate Purkinje fibers with electrodes, add drug, and analyze. I especially like the dissection part. And, because I am essentially a softie for critters, I would do my best to never waste any hearts.

Do not try this at home.

The photo shows Purkinje fibers

Medical School Rejection Collection

2008-02-07T21:14:00.000-05:00

6 down. . .9 to go! I have successfully been rejected by 4 schools, and failed to complete 2 applications. It is at this point, being that it is already February, that I am getting quite nervous. If I don't make it this time around, I will try one more time. I know there are things I can improve upon, and after a second attempt, I would suppose that it is not meant to be. I worry that if it's that hard to get in, could I pass the boards? Knowing me I'd be too damn stubborn to just give up. I'd probably find a way. However, my home state (where I grew up) did reject me - that was a bit of a shock.

Humor - Ohio State sent me an application form for scholarships, which is rather funny since I've not been asked for an interview. Sigh. . .

In an attempt to not be out of touch while I'm dwelling in the world of pharmaceuticals, I will be volunteering at a local hospital doing palliative care. It sounds really interesting - I'll be going to a family's home and helping them while their family member either finishes treatment and gets better or passes away. I thought it would be a great way to help me learn empathy - which is something people often complain about doctors lacking.

Critter news - I got two baby rats to add to the pack. The one had pneumonia, but with a good vet and our own enginuity, he has recovered (he had less than a 50% chance of surviving). Baby food is the key! It has enough water to keep the little one hydrated, and it takes almost no effort to consume. Emmett highly recommends the peas.

Brain Matter

2008-01-29T09:41:00.000-05:00

I had the most amazing experience of my life about a week ago. I finally found a pediatric neurosurgeon that would allow me to watch some surgeries. Not the friendliest guy, but who cares? I saw a brain tumor removal.

The tumor was located just behind and near the top of the brain stem, underneath the cerebellum. He went in above C-1, cut the membrane around the cerebellum, dissected the two hemispheres, had to change course, because the 12th cranial nerve was showing some problems, went a little higher, and finally he was in, and I could see it! It did look different! It looked almost like a sickly, sack-like, blood clot. It was the consistency of overcooked custard, with a tough membrane. Unfortunately it also had characteristics of glioma and astrocytoma - which doesn't bode well for this little one.

I have never loved something this much in my entire life. I didn't move for eight hours. My whole body ached when I left the OR that day. I always thought that I liked ortho or general, but nothing has piqued my interest like that. I also liked not dealing with tons of tendons and ligaments - which frankly, can be tedious.

I also noted the personality. There are certain types of people in surgery. There are certain types in specialities that are miserable - for example, the "save the world," cry at songs on the radio types, don't tend to do well in pediatric oncology. Or even worse - social work. I felt more like the neurosurgeon than any other specialists I've seen thus far.

So I wait - I guess now I know I have to do this. Somehow I'll figure out a way. My mother always said I was stubborn.

Sigh

2008-01-13T20:35:00.000-05:00

So it's the middle and January and still no interviews. I'm getting depressed. I keep getting emails saying that I've made it into yet another smaller pool of applicants, however, the next email could be my rejection letter.

I'm on my last application, and it's taking me forever to finish it. I hate the questions - I just want to give up when I look at it. One question is about why the admission committee should accept me. What the hell am I supposed to say?! Because I rock? Should I write a philosophical treatise? What about a weepy triumph story? I can write a lofty piece of poo - I've got the background. However, if I write said lofty piece of poo - then I sound like a bragger. I hate this! I just know that the scatological little demon with the 34 MCAT is going to get in ahead of me. I know such demons - I certainly wouldn't want them for my doctor. One is a smoking, drinking, drug user. Agh. I wish they (those ethereal admissions ghosts) could figure out a better system of finding the right people.

I've got it! It's like music. There are those that are talented, never work, and eventually fail for one reason or another. Those that work hard and make it, though usually with reoccurring bouts of suicidal depression, and those that are super-talented and hard working. The later category is ideal but rare. So, if there aren't enough of these to fill the need where to turn? The hard workers. That's me. I'm pretty smart, but I certainly have had to study, and I'd like to think that I'm relatively well-adjusted.

Today I worked at the Red Cross serving lunch. I enjoyed the people. The lunchers were very gracious, and it was nice to give them the chance to be in control of something, even if it's just, "I want a lot of cream and sugar." I've known some of the attendees - I used to live in a rougher part of town. It was interesting to see the transformation. The druggies, beggars, drunks, etc. were pretty put-together. I saw in that moment that these people didn't choose their problems, but they can't seem to cut-and-run either. It's good that we could be there to at least give them a tasty and nutritious meal. I'll have to think about this some more.

On an unrelated topic - is it sick and wrong that I'd like to dissect a dog? The kind from a catalogue that come dead and preserved. I'm not that sick. I think it would be really fascinating. This coming from the animal loving woman who seeks out free-range, organic, kosher chicken. I don't understand me either.

Today's Hebrew lesson -
Mah schlomcha/schlomech? (m/f) How are you?
Schlomi tov meod. I am well. Todah. Thank you.

Today's Latin humor -
Coniecturalem artem esse medicinam - Medicine is the art of guessing.

Time to go read my new medical history book. I'm excited. On Tuesday I'm shadowing a pediatric neurosurgeon - that's even more exciting.

The photo is of psalm 106

Oy and phew.

I am so sick of me

2008-01-01T20:23:00.000-05:00

An update for those brave and steadfast souls who have kept up with my blog.

I have made it through two rounds of cuts to all of the MD schools to which I have applied. This makes me happy. However, I have still not heard back for any interviews. I'm getting very nervous and anxious. I am now finishing up DO applications, and the tough part is still talking about myself with any enthusiasm and wit. I am so sick of writing essays about myself. In 21 schools I have only been able to use the same essay once, and some schools ask for multiple essays on various topics. What did they do - get together and make sure there were no duplicates to discourage applicants from applying to 99 schools? Unless one is the child of divorced and remarried surgeons (lots of child support) and has the CEO of Google for an uncle, no one could afford to do such a thing.

Let's talk about something that doesn't raise my blood-pressure. . .

Happy story - My rat had surgery this week for a tumor, and he is recovering very well. He is lively and ritten-like. The biopsy (yes, I really did pay for this) came back as a deep dermal fibroma. This is a glorified term for "collagen mess." If you are reading this with a raised eyebrow you don't understand the wonderfulness of rat ownership. He is absolutely precious.

Happy and expensive story - After bringing home my rat my cat gets deathly ill. The cat started vomiting violently with bouts of explosive diarrhea. The poor thing just laid in a ball and didn't move. This cat is not the lay-in-a-ball type; he is extremely active. When he started hiding in the closet I knew something was wrong. After blood-work, rehydration, anti-vomiting medication, and special food he is fine. The doctor thinks it was some sort of hepatitis, but I think it was more benign than that. I think the cat had a bout of the flu and just needed rehydration. I was a bit alarmed it the high (yes, for cats) levels of glucose in his blood after having not eaten for 24 hours. Hopefully this will not yield more serious problems.

Another happy (and disturbing) story - My brother and his wife are on their second set of twins in under two years. What are they thinking?

Specialty of the week - I want to be a pediatric neurosurgeon. That sounds amazing!

The photo is of my rat. His precious little self is Christopher.

PS If you are my uncle, and you are rich, please send checks to. . .

Oh No!

2007-11-24T21:01:00.000-05:00

This is the best/worst thing that I've ever done! You see, I accidentally ended up with a CrackBerry. This could be very bad. I am an adict. Now all I need to do is get my medical dictionary hooked up to this thing. . .

Where have I been all of my life. . .

2007-11-14T20:23:00.000-05:00

Okay, I had to hibernate while I got every application in the mail. Colleges are now starting to take a look at me, and for the first time I'm starting to get really nervous. I've had myself judged before. I am a musician - competition is a way of life. I thrived on competition when playing the cello was a great challenge and a lot of fun. Now I've found what I really have a passion for, and I'm concerned that the stars won't align in my favor. I'm getting unnecessarily negative here. . .

Our house has had a grand total of zero looks. It's a beautiful house, but the market here is awful. Hopefully things will pick up after the holidays. Speaking of which, it's going to be a crazy-fun Hanukkah. We are going to be doing all kinds of things, and I found my husband some great gifts. Now I need to think about the rest of my family. Oy. I know that Purim is supposed to be the season of giving, but it's hard not to get into the spirit living in America.

I went to a wonderful lecture by Deborah Lipstadt yesterday. She was talking about her trial against David Irving. I'm so impressed with her, because she's not out to prove that the Holocaust happened, she's out to prove that people like David Irving are liars and poor scholars. The amount of material she's accumulated on him and his supporters is mind-boggling. He came out looking absolutely ridiculous in the trial. That kind of knowledge, ability, and integrity really impresses me. She's am amazing person, and I encourage you to look up her work at Emory University - it's amazing.

Now, if you'll excuse me I need to go grocery shopping after I take a brief break to look at pictures of obscure breeds of mice. Rodents fascinate me.

Pumpkin Pie

2007-10-24T22:50:00.000-04:00

Random musings -

Today I decided to be the learning tool for a resident. I was so brave, especially considering that I get awfully anxious at the gynecologist. I was trying to give my best tough-girl persona. We made small talk. All was well. Then came time to actually put my feet in said stirrups and get into position. My legs were shaking terribly! I was so embarrassed. Everything went fine, and I really was comfortable emotionally and physically, but apparently my nerves showed. Oh well - I hope he learned something, and I hope he didn't feel too bad about it either.

It was doubly beneficial for him, because I have some mystery health problems that I do need to address. I'll spare you the details. I do have a history of plenty of, um. . ., girl problems. That's a technical answer.

I also carved my pumpkin today (see above picture). It was a lot of fun. I drew on it with wipe-off marker first and then used carving tools and a scalpel. The mouth says, "welcome." It's not the clearest picture. My husband did the little pumpkin. Rather cute if I say so myself.

I accidentally ate a donut today. . .

Also, I have been booze free for fours days and counting. I will only have a beverage on Friday evenings. It's easier than I had feared. Now, if only I could commit to getting some sleep!

Who am I and why am I here?

2007-10-23T20:57:00.000-04:00

Exam time. I had a biochemistry exam today. The class is interesting, but my professor is just awful. He dropped a lot of acid in the 70's (really, that's true) and he drinks too much. He can't hear well. He doesn't listen to questions before answering them. His test questions are vague, but he expects specific answers. I think I did all right, provided I was able to think like him. However, he had one question about the primary salt bridge in hemoglobin, and that was confusing, because there's a network of salt bridges and plenty of other forces contributing. . .who knows.

Tomorrow I'm carving my huge pumpkin. I'm going to carve, "welcome" into the mouth. I'm going to cut out the bottom, because I figure it's easier to get a candle in there without burning my hand off. I need to get some ideas for a good nose.

So I'm filling out tons of applications. I'm starting to get the impression that I am wholly average - that's kind of scary. What if I don't get in? I'm wicked creative (or so I'm told), but I don't know if that counts for much in medical school. Maybe somebody will see the whole me and decide that I'm in some way special and worthy. A lot of schools ask for a photo. Is it okay to submit my favorite picture of me playing my cello?

Tomorrow I have a pap smear. Yeah. I know you wanted that information. I'm going to a new doctor, and she sounds very good. Please be gentle.

Well, I'm going once again on a few hours of sleep. Though I seem to be able to keep going and going, I think it's time to get ready for bed.

Essays

2007-10-18T20:35:00.000-04:00

These are tough. I had no idea how difficult it would be to creatively pour my heart out on paper (screen?). I decided to cut the really gritty stuff out. I'm not sure if that was the right decision. I had some pretty rotten stuff happen to me when I was a kid, and it did really influence me - even in some very good ways - but I think it's too much for a short essay for people who don't know me well. Alas, politics over honesty wins again.

It's really too bad that I haven't cured cancer or ended world hunger. That would have looked good. Maybe I'll do that next week.

I wish I could get these things in the mail sooner! I work entirely too much, but it's necessary. My job is crazy-stressful, but it pays very well. I'm not well suited for it, but it's what they offered at the interview, so I am learning via trial by fire.

This weekend I can have my Sabbath back! We finally have the house up for sale. I am going to read my medical journals with medical dictionary in lap. DC I hope you're out there to answer my questions. . .

I should probably study for that biochemistry test too. I finished the reading this evening, so now I just need to go through some problems. Slacker, I know. Just keep the coffee coming. . .

Jason, the photo is for you. I thought you'd like it.

Looser

2007-10-13T23:17:00.000-04:00

I missed out on my library reading today. However, the siding and windows now shine (minus two rooms - I'll do that tomorrow). We have a real desk in the study now, and that's wonderful. The woodwork in the kitchen looks very nice. The piles of laundry are done. The porch furniture is washed. The basement is looking very neat and clean. Life is good.

So here's the application business - I now have 15 out of 15 secondaries to complete. I'm very excited about this and I would be flattered, but now I think I've realized that it's a way to make money rather than actually choosing candidates. My MCAT scores certainly aren't good enough to get into Minnesota or Johns Hopkins (I love you John!). But honestly, if they do call me, I'll answer the phone very calmly and accept the invitation, and then I'll get off of the phone (double check that it is in fact hung up) and then scream like a teenage girl upon seeing Johnny Depp walk through her front door. Or Les Claypool! He's my boyfriend from the band (ex-band) Primus. It's okay, Jason knows that I'm cheating on him with both Les and John (of Johns Hopkins).

The question of the day to ponder - other than the ridiculous question from a certain school which asks, "Briefly describe what a life in discovery means to you?" - should I go to school through the army scholarship? It doesn't sound like a bad gig. I'm afraid of what might be the underlying, hard to find, crap in the fine print, but the program as a whole sounds pretty good. I'd actually rather go with the navy, but I've read that the army gives the applicant more choices. What to do? I'm happy to give my effort, but I'm certainly not willing to give my life over stupid (and I mean stupid) politics. It infuriates me that so many people are being wantonly killed everyday.

Let's discuss education briefly, since I gave that nice intro through the above essay question. What has happened to us? It used to be that only the kids from elite backgrounds (read as "education is prized and sought-after") went to college, and there were few "filler schools" - by that I mean schools that cater to the third-rate student. What about the GI bill during the Second World War? That allowed more blue-collar families to send their kids to college, when before they wouldn't have had the opportunity. Did we then allow the standards to slip? Why do we now focus on learning all the details of many subjects instead of really learning the basics well and then allowing the really great minds to continue? I remember learning all kinds of battles for the various "big wars," but I failed to really take home the - Who was there? Why did it get started? How did it progress? What were the consequences? Why must kids fill so much of their days with school, when if we cut the junk out it would only take a few hours and then time for homework and other interests? Is it so parents can work and there's a free babysitter? It disgusts me. I would have been very sad to have been weeded out long ago - I come from an utterly average family - but what about real effort? I never had to really fight for higher education. In fact, my undergraduate degree was paid for! I'm a very good cellist, but worthy of a full-ride? Doubtful.

Medical school study has taught me a lot, and more than just the subjects I've needed to study. It's taught me that if I want this I'm really going to have to work for it. It's a nice change really. But can I afford to do this? I guess I'll find out. I have no support. I can't call home and say, "Mom, can I have $1000?" Let alone $30,000. It's scary. What I wouldn't have given for home schooling. Home schooling from people who really value knowledge. I would have loved to have learned Latin, and classic and contemporary literature, history, real mathematics and logic. To have an education that would show that I really know something. To be able to discuss things on the level of a great thinker. That's what I lament most. And I look around and listen to the chatter and I hear, "and I'm like, so, whatever. It's like not even funny, and did you hear about ____? I couldn't believe it. Shit, I need to go do my calculus homework. I need to put the formulas for the test in my calculator." And that, ladies and gentlemen, is where we are today. Go rent Idiocracy. . .

2007-10-07T23:04:00.001-04:00

Ever been to a library book sale? I love them. If your are exceedingly olfactory, it's pure heaven or hell. They always seem to smell like pickles, urine, and generalized body odor. I'm not sure why book-lovers are often so careless with hygiene, but there seems to be a trend.

I got the 2005 PDR. That was pretty sweet. I also got a book on common surgeries. It's for patients. They are overviews of exactly what happens during the procedures. I'm excited about that. There was also a 1905 book about the state of medicine, and it talks about all kinds of diseases and how to cure them. Fantastic! That kind of history is really fascinating.

I spent my Sabbath reading medical journals in the library with medical dictionary in had, or rather, in lap - it's huge. Can somebody explain eclampsia to me? I didn't fully understand the definition. Is it really like a seizure? Why is it life-threatening? Thanks for educating me.

I'm tired, but I just ate pizza, and I'm too wired to go to sleep. We went to this little hole-in-the wall place and asked the owner to put on whatever cheese he thought would be tasty. We get this wonderful blend or mozzarella, Gorgonzola, blue, Parmesan, and several others. It was perfectly balanced. Yummy.

We spent all of today cleaning and organizing. I've never had closets and filing cabinets so neat and tidy. We officially put our house on the market next Sunday. We have a little more painting to do and some general cleaning. We bought a new computer desk (currently we're using one for kids) and a bureau (my husband has a tiny one, but all of my clothes are in stacks in the closet). So next week, for the first time ever - I will living the life of the ultra-organized, clean girl, I always envied. I always wanted that lovely little house that you walk into and a woman greets you at the door in an apron with cookies and milk. Can you picture her skinny little leg as she bends towards you offering the perfect cookie? Okay, I would hate that, but in some deep dark cavern of my mind I feel that I should be doing those kinds of things. Weightlifting, reading, being a doctor. . .totally not your trophy-wife. Unless you go for the kind of woman that would rather talk about politics and the state of education today than whatever (insert current cool-type movie-star person here) is up to. Or should I say, "Up to what is (insert current cool-type movie-star person here)? That may be a bit extreme.

All right, so once again I'm in the position of saying that I need to study and not yet doing so. I need to break this habit. I think once the house is ready to go, and my applications are rolling along I will be able to focus. I really like biochemistry, I'm just so fried by the end of the day that I tend to make excuses to not study. Okay, that's an excuse for an excuse. I just need some down time to regroup and stay my happy well-adjusted self. The coffee calls my name ever so sweetly. Don't try the Burger King mocha joe! It's 10 times more addicting than crack! It's like a milkshake covered in coffee. . .thankfully they are closed right now. Mmmm, but at 6:00am they are not closed. . .

Speaking of 6:00am, I really need to go to bed. I really need to finish my Johns Hopkins application. I'm carefully crafting every answer so that they can see as much of me as possible in as few words as I am able. I may not be the brightest, but I think I have a lot to offer. Trust me. . .I want to be a doctor. . .

STRESS!

2007-10-04T22:47:00.001-04:00

Okay, so I'm a totally green when it comes to medicine. I am but a mere fledgling. So my genius self thought it best to apply to 15 MD schools that I really liked, and then to DO schools soon as time permits. I figured I'd get good and rejected by at least 5 right out of the blocks, but no, I do believe there is a money-factor here, I received 15 secondary application invites! On the one hand, I'm excited, on the other I'm wondering, "How the heck am I going to pay for this?" And come on - I was looking forward to framing my rejection letter from Johns Hopkins. I love John. I'd let him use me. I absolutely love that school. I love what they do there. I love their programs. I love how much thinking and real learning seems to go on there. So alas, I will suck it up and pay John. I feel kind of dirty.

I've also gotten back into weightlifting. I used to lift in high school, then I got awfully (okay really really) skinny, then I got chubby and lazy. So now, I'm trying to bulk up and get my muscle back, and then lose weight if I can. I do have a terrible weakness for the cookie. In fact, that was my first word. I figure it would look really bad to go to interviews looking rather portly. Who trusts a fat doctor? All right, I would, but that's beside the point.

I still want to be a surgeon. Did you know I've never looked up how much different surgeons get paid? I don't want to know. I want to choose based on what I really want to do. However, the pressure of taking care of my parents is a little intimidating. They definitely did not plan their money very well.

Any surgeons out there living near Cleveland? Can I come and watch some stuff? I really miss the OR. I'm a nice young lady, and I am very well behaved (especially when it matters).

The Art of Wooing

2007-09-19T20:28:00.000-04:00

I learned today that to be a success as an underdog in a big company is to schmooze. I was so nice to Dr. Whiner and to Dr. "Oh my God, this is a catastrophe," and Dr. "I want micro-molar written with Greek letters" and Dr. "Yeah Man, that's great." How was I able to accomplish such a feet? The MP3 player. What a brilliant and wonderful invention. I could put on my sweet tunes and drown everything out until the next Dr. so and so wanted my undivided attention. I was far more receptive, because I was calm and happy. I should do an info-mercial.

I never did have my beer then. I ran out of time. Maybe tonight after I study. I really need to do that - study that is. Thankfully, my friend super-bright and his friends are getting together for a biochemistry-fest. You see, my teacher tried too many of the chemicals he was working with in the 60's and 70's, and now has limited brains. I asked him a question about pKa values, and he went on some cryptic adventure into never-never land. I am fluent in English, and I had no idea what he was saying. It would be funnier if I didn't have to get a grade in this class. I really like the subject, he's just so useless.

My toe is healing nicely. I once removed a skin tag with sterilized nail trimmers. It never came back and I had no infection from it. I guess I believe in doing things myself. Once I bought a rocky-mountain oyster to dissect, and was totally disappointed to find that the "oyster" was not included. I was so disappointed. However, I did learn how to cut between blood vessels, and predict where the underlying ones were so as not to cause bleeding. I have no idea how useful this might have been, but I really enjoyed it. I also got some chicken's feet and took them apart layer by layer. I had no idea that there were that many ligaments and tendons in a foot.

To stick to the subject of wooing - did you know that rats are absolutely precious? My rat is so adorable. I love him so much. He's like a little bag of love. Okay, he's like a big blob of silly putty, but that's beside the point. I discovered that he needed more protein. His skin has always been a problem - he has an immune deficiency, but the other day I gave him a chicken bone and his skin looked so much better the next day. The little one will be getting more protein from now on.
I played an opera last week in Pennsylvania. That was pretty cool. We took it to a small town where the people just loved it. I don't imagine they got to hear that sort of thing very often. I also found a yummy coffeehouse out there in the middle of nowhere.

All right, I digress again and again. I need to go study. So, how have you been?

Recommendations

2007-09-17T19:55:00.000-04:00

Ah yes, that wonderful 15 letter word - recommendations. I'm in search of people who think I'm great, or worthy, or knowledgeable. . . or anything otherwise positive and good-looking to medical schools. It's a very hard decision. Do I go totally conservative and ask professors and doctors? Should I have one of my students write one? Should I have my academic advisor? I sure hope not, she was not too helpful. What about my boss? Definitely not, he doesn't need to know that I plan to leave in a year.

Speaking of medical school - I performed surgery yesterday - on myself. You see, I have this pesky toenail that splits right down the middle, and sticks up, getting caught on absolutely everything. So, I decided it had to go. I pulled it out. The damn thing bled a lot, but I now have no more toenail problem. Truly masochistic, but I knew I could do it, I know how to stop bleeding, and I wanted it gone. Oh yeah, and I'm trying to stave off infection as well. Far more dangerous than declawing myself will be trimming my cat's claws later. He has very little patience for anything, and quite a nasty little temper. This should be interesting.

I need to go work on some secondary applications and my DO schools applications. One of these days I should study for biochemistry. The garage is almost painted, and there's woodwork in the kitchen, and the bathroom now has a floor and a toilet, so all in all, I'm doing pretty well.

Why the beer? I'm thinking of having one before bedtime. :)

I Have Learned my Lesson!

2007-09-09T22:37:00.000-04:00

I was going to write about how my husband and I met, but that will have to wait, this was too good not to write about.

Jason and I were going to a rehearsal, and afterward decided to get Chinese food. Okay, that's horribly unkosher, but sometimes one needs broccoli beef. Or so I thought. . .

We get our meals and are sitting there chatting when I look up to see one of the workers cleaning the back wall behind the woks. He's using a mop. I of course am assuming that the red handle means this mop is for the wall only. How woefully wrong I was.

After he finishes with the wall, right over the woks - he did not move them - he starts cleaning the floor! With the same mop! I thought I was going to hurl. Then Jason noticed that he was rinsing his mop out in one of the woks filled with hot, soapy water! I am not kidding.

At least the water was hot and soapy. . .No! This was disgusting. I am not a superstitious person, but if ever I have felt God's finger tapping me on the shoulder reminding me that I shouldn't eat treif, this was it. I was punished. Lesson learned. No more Christmas Chinese food dates. . .

Shabbat Shalom

2007-09-06T22:19:00.000-04:00

I'm exhausted, but I wanted to write for a bit. Today was a very stressful day at work. As I've said before, I work for the government doing drug testing and research and development. My job isn't that exciting - I do a huge amount of documentation, but as I say to myself, "If I can be organized enough to do this, I think I can handle anything." It's not a difficult job, just a very stressful one with a lot of responsibility. When mistakes are made people can die. I don't want to be the cause.

However, this is not what I set out to write about. I wanted to write about preparing for the Sabbath. Usually my husband and I are frantically cooking and cleaning and getting ready until the last second - literally. This time he suggested we get everything ready today. Brilliant! Not that we never thought about that, but rather we never tried it.

The best part about it was all the time I spent thinking about how lucky I am to have such a great husband. We are one of those rare couples that really loves, cares about, and respects each other. It is unfortunate that I've never met a couple as happy as we are. Maybe it's because we don't have a TV. I recommend that highly. We actually talk every day.

My husband always treats me like I'm precious, but as most women would agree - when he gets out the vacuum or does the dishes - we (women) are so happy. In 20 minutes we had the house clean and ready to go. Bliss.

The secret to a happy marriage? Choose wisely. I recommend a gentleman scholar. That's what I have. I married the kindest and most intelligent man I could find. Thankfully, he liked me too. How did we meet? That is too good of a story to tack on here. I'll tell that tomorrow. . .

The ice ball is a work of art by Andy Goldsworthy. Check out his work if you've never heard of him. It's really amazing.

But You're not a Princess. . .

2007-09-04T21:57:00.000-04:00

I'm Jewish. I dress like a Jew. I talk like a Jew. I do Jewish things. I celebrate the holidays. I go to synagogue. I keep kosher. I'm learning Hebrew. I don't understand Orthodox Jews. . .

My husband and I go out to kosher restaurants occasionally, and we can't help but be both amazed and disgusted by the piles of orthodox Jewish kids and their princess mothers who let them act like little monsters. It doesn't make for a nice, relaxing meal. The fathers, if they're there, are gruff and unhappy.

It's nice that they want to replace 6 million Jews, but we've already done that. Can't we go back to parenting and having sensible, loving, families?

I don't fit in with Jewish women that are my age. I try not to gossip and spread nasty words about others - besides it's strictly forbidden by Jewish law. I am not trivial, and I don't care how much my decrepit handbag cost. I don't get my nails done. I don't wear flashy clothes, but I do have some nice headscarves.

Where I live, the Jewish community is small. I am outnumbered by many Jewish people who don't know much about Judaism. I certainly don't agree with all of Jewish law, writings, and practices, but it's a good start for how to be a worthwhile person. I suppose it's similar to the guy with a huge cross tattoo who goes home and beats his wife. Hypocrites exist everywhere.

What worries me is complacency. We are losing our traditions. One woman was openly hostile when I said I didn't like blow-drying my hair on Sabbath, or the time when I suggested that some cheese being served didn't look like the kinds that contain kosher rennet.

I am far from perfect. I will not leave lights on just because it's considered kindling a fire; I can't justify the energy waste. I have blogged on Saturdays. I ate crab rangoon a few weeks ago. I just hate to see such a beautiful tradition turning into the stereotypes. I mean, we were pretty poor when Shakespeare was writing about our money hungry ways. Somehow that rumor got started and people ran with it. Jews have always gotten a bad rap. How did the blood of Christian children matzo myth ever get started? We aren't helping the situation. My princess compatriots who wear their cutie little diva outfits and carry "Juicy Angel" purses make me want to cry. I am not like you, and I wish you weren't like you either!

Why Would you Want to. . .

2007-08-28T21:13:00.000-04:00

I volunteer at an animal shelter for a few reasons, some of which are purely selfish. For one thing, I really care about the animals, and I try to give them my best, but I also understand that not every creature can be saved, and death is okay. I also climbed aboard because I want to be a surgeon, and I need a stronger stomach for nasty odors. This should do the trick nicely. I had no idea something so small and cute could smell so bad. There's the background - here's the story. . .

I went in on Sunday to do my normal rounds with the cats. I was merrily cleaning along, giving lots of love and making the cages as bright and happy a place as possible. I firmly believe a happy cat is a cat with something to cuddle and something with which to play. I get to my next cat - a pretty little petite orange tabby. Her cage says she's on medication, so I know to be gentle and patient. I reach in and lift her down, and realize she's peeing all over me!

My pants and shirt and shoes were all wet. It was already hot and humid there, but this was just gross. I was fine with it, because I know that nothing like that is ever deliberate, but it was a sanitation problem.

Then I notice my little one is bleeding - a lot. I couldn't tell from where, but somewhere in her nether regions. I ran to get the medical person (not a vet, but involved in medicine). In the meantime I went back upstairs to see if I could do anything. I noticed the blood was not very red, but pinkish.

I saw something that looked like raw flesh under her tail, and noticed she was cleaning frantically. Then I saw it - her very tiny fetus - she had miscarried. I should have known right away, since the fluids didn't smell like cat urine. I left her alone for a minute, and then gently picked her up and held her. I put her back in her cleaned cage, and took the kitten away.

It was neither traumatizing nor truly sad, but a moment of time stopping. I was amazed at the tiny little thing, and couldn't help but look at it. I felt sorry for the cat, but she seemed okay, and in some ways relieved, if I may personify this cat. This was my first experience with something like this, and it changed something in me, but I don't know what that is.

AMCAS

2007-08-25T20:39:00.000-04:00

The applications are in the mail, along with my transcripts. It was actually a lot of fun filling out the application, because it was not just a boring resume-type of application. I had the chance to really think about me and the things I've done and put that on paper (screen?). I decided to show my personality a bit. When I wrote about my work/activities I added some detail that shows my character, not just what I accomplished. I imagine they get tons of those. . ."I was president of my class and graduated Summa cum Laude. . .," boring! I knitted mittens, wrote poetry, and tried to save the world through research and humanitarian aid.

My essay was also a lot of fun to write. I wrote several drafts. I changed topics. I tried all kinds of things until I found one that really reflected who I am. I condensed it down to one page. I tried to get as much information, as clearly stated as possible, into one very readable, and hopefully enjoyable page. Sweet.

At my work I pose as a chemist. No really, I am a chemist, but I don't tell them I'm going off to medical school in a year. It's so hard to kill myself everyday for the government and not talk about my future goals. Though I do have an awesome job, and it is the most stressful, horrible thing I've ever done in my life, I get to work with some fascinating stuff. . .damn I wish I could talk about it, but it's classified information. No really, it is. I think that's one of the reasons it's interesting - it's super-secret, and that's kind of exhilarating.

On a completely unrelated side note: my cats are precious, and my husband is the best.

The MCAT Bites Back

2007-08-17T13:22:00.000-04:00

I often wonder what I did to deserve this. I'm now on strike two for the MCATs, but I think I'm going to go with it. I really don't think I can do any better. This makes me sad, because unless I'm a total fool and have no concept of myself and my abilities, I think I'd be a darn good surgeon. Such is the crisis of being a musician. I learn by watching and listening. I think I'd be great in my residency, but I have to get there first. My ability to abstract material from dense passages is marginal. The funny thing is, I don't think really brilliant people are happy as doctors. Take me! Take me!

So I was thinking, usually the people who post there gilded scores for all to see did a wonderful job. I, on the other hand, am utterly average. It hurts. My ego is wounded. I will never get to go to a really great school. One dream dashed. I know everyone says it doesn't matter, you can still be a doctor, but it still hurts. What do you call the person who finishes lowest in there medical school class? Yeah, I know. I'm not horribly upset, just sad - damn sad.

What about being a DO? I worry about that route, because I want to be a surgeon, not a GP.

Yet again I must wait. Will I get in? Will they take me? I hate feeling like a beggar, because I really feel like I have something to give. I was reading Dr. Atul Gawand's biography, and I can't help but think, "Did he really deserve all of that? Why not share a slice with me?"

So, do you have any great stories? Words of encouragement or consolation? Anybody in medical school score lower than me? I think I'll go pick weeds. . .

Vacation

2007-08-10T08:21:00.000-04:00

I will be out of town this weekend, so alas, no witty scads will be written by me, and I will be unable to perch my comments atop of your posts. Have a wonderful weekend.

Surgeon

2007-08-07T11:21:00.000-04:00

I want to be a surgeon. I've often wondered what makes a good surgeon? I heard about a hand surgeon that had OCD - not literally - but he would line up his pencils, a certain number, freshly sharpened (in a very specific way), in a certain location on his desk. Supposedly he did this with everything. He liked everything lined up, in a certain way, in a certain location. He did not deviate from his routine.

If this makes for a great surgeon, I'm sunk. Yes, I like things in certain ways, but I've got nothing on him.

What about the swash-buckler? I met him once when I was observing orthopedic surgeons. He swore the whole time and called everyone "Buddy." He pulled, he tugged, he swore some more. He demanded. He swore some more. And when it came time for the X-ray, damn-it if that leg wasn't perfectly straight. He did a little "end-zone" dance, and started closing up. He swore some more. He wondered why a "nice girl" like me would want to do this. He swore a bit more. He said I should just keep on playing my cello, because this job totally sucks.

If this makes for a good surgeon, I'm in trouble. I have quite a temper when pushed to my absolute limits, but never like that. Though I do cuss too much. . .

What about the old man who just smiled his way through life? He was so happy. Everyone is wonderful. The long hours and being on-call are just part of this great life. He had a big family and a stay-at-home wife. The kids were all brilliant and well-adjusted. His entire family, many brothers and sisters, were all physicians. He claimed that he wasn't that smart, but when I asked him about his education he said he finished his chemistry degree after two years having graduated early from high school. . .

I definitely don't smile all of the time. Not everything is perfectly great to me. I hate waiting in long lines. I most certainly am not as smart as he was.

Okay, let's analyze the women in surgery. Oh no, I'm in trouble. I've met several and very few were happy. Most were tired and fed-up. One missed her kid's first day of school, and she was totally bummed. Another was more man than most men I've met - she was rather happy in this profession. I imagine she threw rocks at kittens as a child. . .

I'm definitely a strong woman. I'm not a bleeding heart. I don't cry easily, but sometimes I shed a few tears.

I've heard horror stories about how awful men in surgery are to women who are also going into surgery. Really guys, we don't need much, but sometimes we do need someone to just nod their head, say, "I'm sorry," give us a hug, and send us on our way. I don't like being teased. I guess I'm a pretty serious girl, but I hear that men in surgery tease each other almost constantly. Hmm. . .maybe a back-kick to the groin might help boost my position in the guy-o-sphere.

However, most of my friends are men. Okay, I honestly have only one girl-friend. I don't care about most things women do; this has never earned me many points during a gossip-fest. I prefer working with men - they tend to get the job done and whine very little - my kind of people.

Well, I guess I'll just have to wait and find out. In the meantime, could the MCAT people please hurry-up. You're killing me!

Music School and Sex

2007-08-04T13:35:00.000-04:00

People often ask me about the children that I don't have. "So, if you have children, would you have them play an instrument?" Tough question. If we did choose to pullulate, would I want my child to potentially end up in music school? No, and no.

Ever read Mozart in the Jungle? Unfortunately it's very accurate. It's about a rising young musician in music school. She talks about all the drugs, drinking, and strange sexual happenings. Now, to the outsider this sounds like heaven. It's not. You see, eventually we all grew up, and took our baggage with us. Professional musicians never seem to be able to cut the ties though. I can't think of any really world famous performers that don't abuse at least one of the the three biggies.

Thankfully, I managed to stay away from two of the three vices - mostly. It's extremely difficult to be moral in an environment that is supposed to encourage passion. When one is in the situation of proving themselves to be an artist, emotions get very messed-up.

In chemistry, I've been told, once you're in the professional realm, you prove your worth. Nobody cares if you're a hack, you just keep on doing what you're doing and nobody takes you seriously. This is similar to music, and it can be devastating. In chemistry you keep plugging away until you come up with something you can do. In music you either have enough talent and artistry or you don't.

I chose to leave the profession when I realized that the dishonesty and the very unhealthy lifestyle were part of the job description. I could sleep my way to the top. I could drink a lot, sell my soul, and take every gig that came my way. I could get a PhD to prove that I'm worthy of teaching a new batch of eager young students - only to get one or two in my lifetime that would ever "make it." It is a very depressing field. I had to get out.

Part of this emotional immaturity is the nature of art. Musicians are responsible for creating emotions. Their function is to move people. My teacher used to say, "It doesn't matter that your wife just walked-out on you. You still have a concerto to perform." It's so true. Awful things can happen, but the performance goes on. This is absolutely suffocating. The musician learns to not nurture themselves. Eventually this turns into reckless child-like behavior, and the longer one is in the profession, the worse it gets. The reason is this - just like a small child - musicians are crying out for attention, and they get it by doing everything imaginable.

The solution - music schools have a responsibility to turn down the ones who aren't going to make it. However, the programs would be tiny. I don't know how to counteract that. I know they have to make a profit, but they are doing it at a huge cost.

Incompetence in our Midst

2007-08-03T09:51:00.000-04:00

This is too good not to talk about. So I went to a job interview this morning. A 20 minute drive during rush hour - job interview. You know how sometimes you just have a sense of impending doom? I did. I walked in the door and saw the place swarming with women over 275 lbs. Now, I have no problem with obese people, I have a problem with a job that seems to foster binge eating. So I am greeted with plenty of tight clothes with tacky cartoon characters on them. . .not a good first impression. The women were all complaining and whining from the time I opened the door. I fill out the application materials first. Why? Protocol. I don't even know what the position is yet. . .

So I finish with my paperwork and my interviewer comes out with more breast than I have ever seen in my life. She, in fact, was larger than life, and not in a healthy way. So she starts by asking me (from a script) why I feel I would be qualified for this job. I answer, " I don't know what the job is yet, we were going to talk about my options today." Well now I've gone and derailed her speech after using too many big words. "Oh yeah, I forgot about that. I'm sooooo sorry. Yeah, um, the positions are ____, ____, and ____." I ask, "Aren't those all the same position at different locations?" "Well, um, yes, but, yeah, that's pretty much it. I don't have any management positions open right now." Okay Anne, breathe, don't say anything you feel like saying. . .Shit too late -

"Look, I've run my own company for a decade now. I started a program similar to yours in the first grade. I am a college graduate with top honors. I gave you my resume ahead of time." She responds, "I'm sooooo sorry, I know, I know. This was such a waste of your time. I should have told you over the phone." Damn it, now I feel bad. "It's okay, you know, why don't you keep my resume on file and call me if a position opens up. I appreciate your time."

Any company that seems to have "emotional eaters" is not making their employees happy - I don't need that. I think I'll go paint my living room now. On a lighter note, my interview yesterday went really well. I hope I get that position. I just had to share that; it was too good.

Oy!

2007-08-01T23:49:00.000-04:00

This whole being an adult thing really sucks. I've never been under so much stress in my life. Every day I sink deeper and deeper into debt. Selling a house in this market is nearly impossible, and everyone I owe money to is starting to notice. Also, the job market is not so good which is making me tense as hell. In fact I, Miss Stoic, had a very nice cry fest today.

Serendipity came to my rescue! As I was holding my little pity me party the phone rang. I have an interview tomorrow, and in my inbox another potential offer. Both sound like great jobs too. Perhaps I should have starting crying sooner. . .

Now my usually positive and self-ingratiating self would normally be thrilled, but I am a bit nervous. What if they turn me down? What if they only offer $7.50 an hour? What if they won't work around my class schedule? What if my skirt wrinkles in my non-air conditioned car?!

Every day I sell my soul to Home Depot in a desperate attempt to make our little abode look appealing. The credit card moguls are starting to tap their fingers together saying, "Excellent. . ." in that demonic and utterly terrifying sort of way.

I have only one pair of khakis! My cats need more toys! Damn I wish I came from a wealthy family. Okay, I did, but now my father's business is starting (has been) to take quite a hit in our, "Yeah Wal-Mart!" society.

When I was little I would read books and play with my dolls. I would cook and color and make clubhouses. Gone are those days. I still read, but not nearly as many books. I still cook and I still color (it's true). I write and practice my cello. Hmmm. . .I guess I have it pretty good. Now if only I could just relax. My back hurts.

Intelligence?

2007-07-30T22:11:00.000-04:00

What makes someone a genius - my super-smart husband who missed a grand total of 2 on the GRE after completely failing to study or my mother who always seems to know how to handle delicate situations? And please don't feed me Howard Gardner's theories, I really can't stand him.

I wonder about this a lot. How many people out there are just smart enough to realize they are good, but will never be truly great? I often get frustrated with myself in this way, though as I get older I realize that if I can just do one thing really well I will be content. This is not fair - I suppose we are all good at something (don't even start with H. Gardner!), but what really makes a genius?

Newton gave up any hope of a "normal" life searching for scientific truths. However, he also worked nearly constantly. . .does this mean if we all quit blogging and started reading and studying more we could all be great thinkers?

I feel like I could really handle the pressures of being a genius. So why am I not a genius? Okay, okay, considering my family history I guess I'm moving up, but how long is this going to take? Any neurosurgeons out there with some electrodes that might spark my genius centers?

What about someone like Abraham Joshua Heschel? Truly a great man and great thinker, but was he a genius? Who was smarter - Gandhi or Einstein?

What about genetics? Here's where people get pissed off. But we can say that certain breeds of dogs are smarter, and we can breed rats who are smarter or dumber. . .so why doesn't breeding count? We know there are many great male thinkers, but where are the women? Where are all of the black geniuses? Perhaps we have different innate abilities and disabilities (I hate Howard Gardner!).

Is there anyone doing this kind of research? I mean, without the political baggage attached to it. I want to know. I want answers! Oh, and by the way, Mozart definitely doesn't make anyone smarter, but Brahms might. . .

addendum: I absolutely am not racist. In fact, I think I make more effort than your average to understand people and to treat everyone with dignity and respect; I am just curious. Please don't misunderstand my questioning.

My Generation and a Feminist Rant

2007-07-30T09:13:00.000-04:00

I got to thinking, dangerous I know, about my generation. We all claim that our baby boomer parents screwed everything up, but are we really doing much better? My generation seems to be the biggest failure in American education. Finally people started to notice that we are in fact rather stupid. Watch Idiocracy, it's absolutely not child-appropriate, but it has some elements that seem plausible, and that worries me.

So now that we're here, what are we going to do? I realized after I graduated from college that I knew very little of any importance. I had horrible grammar skills, virtually no knowledge of history, awful math ability, and I think that was because most people were just as uneducated or worse. Growing up, I didn't know that someday I would be ashamed of my lack of education. I passed the tests and looked great on paper, but I was scholastically challenged.

This has to stop. Why does it seem like nobody cares? When I go to Borders I am depressed to see scads of women sitting around talking about television actors and actresses, and other trite gossip. They talk about politics occasionally, and the words coming out of their mouths are stolen from their husbands and the media. They have no idea what they're talking about, and even worse, they don't care. Men don't do this as much. There is still some competition to know more than the other guy. Women seem to either fall into the "do-all, be-all" category, the super-achievers, or leave their brains behind with the first baby.

Why do I never see a woman reading "Nature" or "Scientific American," both of which are accessible to the general public? The "Women's Magazine" types make flames shoot out of my ears; I get so mad just reading the covers.

I came up with the term for a real woman of valor - feminatrix domestique. I think it's worthwhile to embrace the feminine, but loathsome to assume the damsel mode. Just as I believe men should be allowed to be men, I think allowing men to embrace the feminine sides of themselves is good too. We all need to find a balance, and I think men are doing a better job of that - or perhaps I just choose my friends wisely. . .

I hope I'm wrong. I hope there are plenty of 20-somethings out there that are going to jump all over this post, leaving my faulty ideas in the dust.

A bit of poetry -

If you'd just take my hand
I would feel safer
but leave the other one alone
so I can punch you if
need be

Medicine

2007-07-28T12:19:00.000-04:00

I've had a lot of surgeries - 12 to be exact, and I loved my doctors. I'll share a couple of the other side of medicine stories from the patient's point-of-view:

When I was 8 I had my first surgery. I remember reading over the bill when it came to my parent's house and asking what a catheter was. My mother explained it to me and I was horrified that someone, even worse, an unknown someone had touched my 'private parts.' I vowed to never let that happen again. I mean, why did they need to do that? I had used the bathroom before surgery. . . At that age I didn't know why that's done.

When I was 9 I had 9 surgeries. For the second one I decided to 'prevent' being catheterized. My ingenious plan was to wear my underwear under my gown. I asked my parents to leave the room while I changed so I wouldn't be caught. Brilliant! Following surgery I was coming to and I found a neat little specimen bag with my little black underwear in it! I was too groggy to really care, but I told my mother that I needed to go to the bathroom. She told me it was okay, that I could just go. "Mother!" That was when I realized that the nasty little invader was still in me.

I spent a month in the hospital that year, during which I learned all kinds of neat things like intramuscular injections. The bruises took months to go away. I had shattered my femur bone and endured awful muscle contractions for two weeks. Then the morphine became a bit too much of a friend and I was cut off. Tylenol just didn't do it. Finally I started to heal - more surgeries to correct this leg that didn't want to come together. At least the epiphyseal (spelling?) plates (growth plates) were intact. I'm not very tall, and my legs didn't have to grow much, but at least they're the same length.

I'll skip the more private details of my medical history, but I will recount what it was like to almost die. . .twice. The first time the anesthesiologist made a huge boo-boo. I was a stocky kid and must have looked much heavier than I was. I was way over-anesthetized, and some pretty heroic measures were used to 'fix' the problem. I was half-way through a long procedure and started waking up. The surgeon swore, the anesthesiologist swore, and all I remember was hallucinating and seeing some pretty awesome stuff (oxygen deprivation will do that). The second time I was in recovery after a surgery where I lost a lot of blood. I don't remember what happened, but I wish they had just gone ahead with a transfusion. I was weak and dizzy for weeks following that.

One more good story (this one will keep you away from hospitals. . .) I was recovering from another quite invasive surgery. I had lost a lot of blood and was in a lot of pain. I was taken up to my room at about 9:00 PM. The night was so long. I was in so much pain, but not enough to call out. My call-button had fallen onto the floor. At 8:00 AM I was checked on for the first time. The nurses panicked. I guess they thought I'd sue. I was treated like a queen from there on out.

Why in the world, then, would I want to be a surgeon? If anyone knows about what it feels like to be a patient I do. I also love medicine and am endlessly fascinated by the human body's givings and misgivings. Now we await the MCAT scores. . .

2007-07-27T08:43:00.001-04:00

A Bit of Poetry for You

2007-07-27T08:28:00.001-04:00

Excuse me
how do you get to
the train station?
You know what -
nevermind
I'll just walk until I find it
No really,
I like the rain
We understand each other
I've nowhere to go anyhow
it's kind of nice
I don't have a change of clothes
I'm already soaked
It's pretty funny actually
and besides
I don't have any money
it sure beats the hell out
of where I've been
what I've seen
what I've done
I love the smell of
summer rain on flowers
and fresh-cut grass
Sometimes I wish I was
a tree-
unless you're too tall
lightening and all
but at any rate
I should let you get going
but hey
you really should get out in the rain more
often
What's that?
Sure you can come too

This one I composed in a coffee-shop amidst unhappy and lonely people:

Metallic sculptures
hard lines
consummate angles
Friendly conversation
little glimpses
into unknown lives
beautiful faces
shining eyes
troubled smile lines
big soft chairs to cushion
you
like arms
the ones that don't hold you
Happy music
for sad people

Taking out the toilet. . .

2007-07-26T23:01:00.000-04:00

So we're getting ready to sell our house. I never want to be a home owner again! However, I have learned how to remove a toilet among other things. Today I patched holes in walls and woodwork. Tomorrow I rip up the kitchen floor. Oh yeah, and scraping and painting a garage is loads of fun. The flooding of the kitchen a few weeks ago was also a real joy. . .

At least I still have open access to my espresso maker. For that I am truly thankful. Moving the refrigerator also got me to clean it, so I suppose that was a bonus.

What it that?! I think I feel some biceps on me! Perhaps this isn't so bad after all.

Tisha b'av

2007-07-25T23:22:00.000-04:00

The road to religion in my life has had many curves. I was raised Catholic by a Neo-Pagan set of hippie parents. However, I was also reared in a large Jewish community, and took care of the Rabbi's children for several years, and I have some Jewish relatives. Once I moved away from home I left religion behind.

My husband and I knew a Jewish woman (secular) who died unexpectedly. I really liked her wit and I loved talking to her. On a whim that evening I started looking for Jewish sources to nurse the wound that had formed in my heart on the day of her passing. I had lost someone who was a real gift, and I barely knew her.

The more I read the more it made sense. The more I read the more it didn't make sense. But one thing impressed me more than anything - Jewish life is based on scholarship and debate. One does religion as a way of letting those deeds fill the heart and mind. This is exactly what I needed.

I talked to my husband about it. I thought he would think I was crazy (crazier?), but instead he started reading and realized that yes, this is a good thing.

This past Tuesday we celebrated the Jewish holiday (if you want to call it that) Tisha b'av. It's a day of mourning commemorating the falling of the two temples, and the expulsion of Jews from Spain among other atrocities. We sat on the floor at the rabbi's house and read the book of Lamentations, or rather, it was chanted. For the next 25 hours we fasted.

Fasting wasn't too hard, but the body does go into a depression, both physically and spiritually. I felt so sad by the end of the day. I wanted to eat and drink, but not as badly as I wanted to understand why people are cruel. Why does anyone need to suffer at another's hand? I do mean people. Why are people terrible to one another? Why are people careless? I don't know. Why didn't I stop and help that man in a wheelchair in Chicago? He was throwing-up. He was all alone. Was he drunk? Did that matter? Why didn't I stop, go back into the restaurant and get him some water and moist paper towels? I don't know, and that burden will be with me for the rest of my life. Every day I try to be a bit kinder. It's not in my nature, but I try. Maybe someday I will be able to say, "This time I was a great help."

Shalom.

Idea Thief

2007-07-25T21:25:00.001-04:00

So I was teaching a cello lesson the other day when a student's mother pointed out that Ani DeFranco was coming to town. Now, I am not a man-hater, I am merely sceptical about most people. You see, I think about what I'm doing and how I affect other people. When I have something to throw out I think, "Could I recycle this somehow?" I like to reflect on myself to see how I am doing. I've kept journals since the 4th grade. I think it's important to make good eye-contact with one's self. Back to Ani - The title of my blog comes from one of her CD's where she talks about the little fish swimming around and around. Always they are surprised by the little plastic castles. They are too stupid to realize that they keep swimming around in circles. I decided a long time ago not to swim around in circles, and not to let my life be led by what other people think. I'm odd. It's true.

I play the cello, write poetry, love animals, and shy away from anyone who seems to be shut off from their frontal lobe. Someday I want to be a surgeon. Am I smart enough? I guess we'll find out soon enough. . .

Little Plastic Castles

2007-07-25T21:08:00.001-04:00

So I decided to start a blog. Am I interesting? Some may think so. I am a cellist and a medical student wannabe.