Wednesday, February 25, 2009

"It is a tale told by an idiot..."

I actually have a couple of interesting things to post about this week. The weather was quite nice today (45 degrees!), so there will be no complaining about that. Once a year, our school offers various seminars in place of our normal afternoon curriculum. These seminars are part of the medical humanities curriculum our school boasts of - the sole purpose of which is to ensure that we don't become dicks to our patients. Basically, we get to choose from a variety of arts and humanities courses in some way related to medicine so we can learn to deal with the "human condition." This is a fancy way of making sure we know how to deal with nuances and problems without obvious answers. I loved my seminar last year, and it turned out to be the only class other than neuro that I actually enjoyed. I wrote a paper comparing the portrayal of humanity and its values in the 1950s version of "Invasion of the Body Snatchers" and "Pan's Labyrinth." Yeah, I love this shit...

On the list of courses this year, I saw one on Medicine and Macbeth. I haven't read Shakespeare in forever and I love his work, so I signed up for this course. For once, it's actually better than I imagined. Our instructor is OBSESSED with blood (you'd like her, Sami), which proves to be handy for this play. She made us go around and introduce ourselves last week, but we also had to give one fact about blood. She then proceeded to educate us on the 16th-17th century theories of how the body created blood - it made the blood directly from the food you ate, so eating a lot meant you had a hell of a lot of blood, thus the keen interest in blood-letting - and the natural state of the body formed from the various humours. This was possibly the most interesting physiology lecture I've ever had. Sigh. 

Anyway, we went to see a live production of Macbeth this afternoon at Navy Pier. All of us were literally blown away by the adaptation. None of us had been to this theater, and we honestly thought it would be a crappy little production for tourists visiting Chicago. Apparently, Chicago Shakespeare Theater is a world-renowned theater group. It really was impressive. The theater was small and built in the model of The Globe, but on a smaller, more comfortable scale. It had similar tiers and the stage jutted out into the audience and was on a similar level as the crowd. There really wasn't a bad seat in the house. 

They created a modern adaptation, so the soldiers wore camouflage fatigues and carried guns. It was super bloody and violent. They show Macbeth literally cutting a dude in half at the very beginning. The witches show up as part of the media following Macbeth, and later on Macbeth finds them in a fetish strip club. Lady Macbeth, who famously prays to be unsexed, was pretty much running around naked the whole time. And she was super crazy, which was fun/disturbing to see live. Everything was just done so well. It was great to be able to sit and watch something so rich with nuance and meaning. Every movement, every direction meant something. I really need to make sure I go again at some point.

I also watched a modern movie adaptation by the BBC. James McAvoy was Macbeth, and it was oddly great. I say 'oddly' because Macbeth is the head chef of a restaurant and Duncan is the restaurant's owner. It works really well though. I think my new favorite line ever is "There are pigs landing on my head!" ... I think you all need to see it to understand (it's on Netflix's instant watch under Shakespeare Retold). 
 
So yeah, that's all. I'm going to NYC next week, which I am super excited about. Dude, look at me being excited about things! Yay!

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Eh, it's winter

Ok, so I'm going to suck it up and try to blog regularly. We'll see how this goes. I feel like things right now are in a bit of a lull, but will probably pick up soon. We're going to schedule our third-year rotations in the next month or two. Of course, I'll be trying to work my schedule around going to ComicCon, because comics are more important than learning how to be a doctor. I'm not even kidding. I either go to ComicCon now, or try to squeeze myself into a Phoenix costume when I'm 40 and scar thousands of children for life. I also have to start studying for boards soon, so you know there are going to be some cheeky shenanigans that will ensue. And by "cheeky shenanigans" I mean that I'll probably drop my microbiology flashcards in snow that's covered in dog urine and I'll end up stabbing somebody. Hilarious. 

Speaking of snow, I think it's time for another exciting edition of, "Winter: wtf?" So all the snow we've gotten in the past month never melted away at any point. It was really quite disgusting. I wasn't kidding about all the dog piss covered snow. Since I'm in the ritzy part of town, everyone has little dogs and they have to urinate somewhere, thus we have yellow snow. Also, all of the snow lining streets were covered in black. I'm not entirely sure what the black stuff is - whether it's from the cars or the tar on the streets or what - but I fear for my lungs. I just don't want to see that. Anyway, the disgusting snow finally melted this weekend, and I realized that I kinda forgot what the ground looked like. Winter is a complete mindfuck. We're having a bit of a warm spell, which is nice. It was 60 degrees and sunny yesterday, and again, I forgot what warmth coming from the sun felt like. I stepped outside and was struck by the heat causing me to do a crazy little move where I covered my face with my arms and squinted in pain at the sun. Then, I realized that I should stop looking like an insane, emo vampire child and walk to class. I'm so smooth.

I did have a fun conversation with my college mentor. We have to check in with him every semester, which is fine. He did happen to bring up the Healthy Living class they're currently making us take. Essentially, it's a class where they tell us that we need to eat more fruits and vegetables, exercise, sleep and not smoke. I imagine you know just how much my head is shaking as I'm writing this. Yes, they're lecturing second-year medical students on the very basics of health and nutrition. Becuase apparently none of us had an interest or understanding of the very minimum of healthy behavior before coming to medical school. God, these people make me so mad. I decided to take the honest route with my mentor and tell him how boring the class is, mostly because I've been following health news since high school and took nutrition classes in college. He seemed to understand and take this ok, but still decided to push the topic to find one positive thing about this useless class. 

So he mentioned the Behavior Modification project. Good god. If ever I would have just taken a punch to the face as opposed to this misery, it was at this moment. We have to pick a behavior of our own and modify it over the next 12 weeks. Most people are choosing stuff like sleeping regularly or going to the gym, which I already do. My mentors point was that it was good for physicians to know how hard it is to change a behavior so they can empathize with their patients. I just stared at the poor guy. I had a whole tirade of how I went strictly vegetarian three-and-a-half years ago, only lapsing a handful of times in the first two years. I started doing yoga regularly last year, during med school, and now go three times a week. There are many, many other things I could name, too. I figured I was fighting a losing battle, though, and did what I do best. I just didn't respond and continued to stare at my mentor. That got him to stop talking, which was nice. :)

Well, that's all for now. I swear I will try to update more...




Thursday, January 22, 2009

Your turn

Well, I officially fail at this whole blog thing. It's January in Chicago and frankly, I don't want to go outside to get something to blog about...so what should I do? Any ideas, Amanda or Sami (I take it you two are the only ones who read this)? What would you guys like to see up here? I'm officially putting my writing services at your whims. Yes, in essence, I'm your monkey - unless your ideas suck. It turns out that I'm a very critical monkey.

Sunday, January 11, 2009

I sure am inconsistent

I knew winter break would cause a large gap in posts. Sorry for the delay. I can't believe it's already mid-January, though. I have to take boards in June, and I just know it's going to sneak up on me way too quickly. Although, I must say, I would give anything for it to be June 12 already. I'll be done with boards, and I'll have two whole weeks of freedom before starting clerkships. Two whole weeks. Crap. I'm such an adult. 

Anyway, winter break was really nice. I hadn't been home in over six months, so I spent a lot of time reacquainting myself with my couch and amazing queen-sized bed. Mmm, queen-sized bed. Also, I spent time with my family and friends. But mostly I just vegged out and did nothing. It was sweet, except for the time my cat decided to shit AND piss in my bed. That was lovely. My cousins had spent the night before at our house, and my cat is insanely afraid of people so she effectively shut herself in my room. I guess this displeased her and she decided I needed punishing for it, because I found cat poop in my bed the next night (at 1:00AM when I was getting into bed, of course) and, as I withdrew the covers to see the full extent of the damage, my hand hit something wet and foul-smelling. I was not pleased. I did the only thing I could do, though. I removed the bedding so the mattress could dry, nearly woke everyone up by laughing to myself about how insane my cat was, and went to sleep in the guest room. It was a fun little surprise. 

The past week in Chicago has been uneventful as usual. This winter does suck a lot harder than last year. There was a blizzard yesterday, which kept me inside all day. A fucking blizzard. I don't think there was a single one of those last year, and already there have been two this year. I used to only associate blizzards with the awesome Dairy Queen ice cream Blizzards from my childhood. Those were fantastic. They were all full of Oreos or M&Ms and ice cream goodness. These blizzards, not so much. No Oreos. No M&Ms. Not even any ice cream. Just complete and total sucking. As much as they salt the roads and sidewalks here, for some ungodly reason they never clear the curbs where we have to cross the street. The mixture of salt and snow makes a disgusting brown puddle with ice mixed in it, which I have to jump over every time I cross a street. Sure enough, my foot eventually lands in one of the icy puddles, causing me to curse and swear like a drunken sailor and walk around with a frozen foot. I hate the Midwest. I hope that somehow the entire Midwest sinks in some giant, unprecedented pit of quicksand, thus bringing the two coasts together and everyone living happily ever after. There just aren't any words to convey my disdain for this place. 

So that's all for now. I'll try to do something interesting at some point so I don't spend the whole post complaining. Hopefully, it's at least some entertaining bitching. 

Wednesday, December 3, 2008

Doing things I want to do

I did not realize until fairly recently that my last real day off was in September when I went to New York. Sure, there have been days where I have done no work, but I usually spent a good part of that day lying in bed and feeling guilty about not doing anything. After all, part of being a med student is having constant, crushing guilt and self-doubt. Hell, even while I was in New York I had work I should have been doing. However, our administration found some last, tiny ounce of kindness in their hearts to give us Thanksgiving weekend off. Although I had to stay in the hell-hole that is Chicago (why pretend I'll find something I like here anymore?), I did manage to enjoy myself.

I went to Blockbuster on Wednesday afternoon to rent some movies for the weekend. This was pretty tragic because I ended up getting four movies, and as I went to pay for them, I saw two other obviously single women at the register with 4-5 movies each. They might as well have just given me a few cats and made my initiation into spinsterhood official. Anyway, I did not notice until later that I pretty much picked out the cream of the crop of teen angst movies. I got Thirteen, Speak, Rebel Without a Cause and Monty Python and the Holy Grail; and that last one was the only one saving me from slitting my wrists by the end of the weekend. I also downloaded Into the Wild and Trainspotting. It was a happy weekend.

I did like almost all of the movies, though. I thought Thirteen was great. I still cannot pinpoint exactly why it resonated with me, since my teen years were way less rebellious and much more awkward and embarrassing. I liked that there were no pretenses, and it did not feel like they put crazy things into the movie just for shock value or to sell me something. It felt genuine. Rebel Without a Cause was not at all what I expected. It took me at least a quarter of the movie to realize that James Dean was playing a sixteen-year old, and the whole thing was a little over the top. I do, however, see what all the fuss over James Dean is about. He was just captivating, and the camera clearly loved him. It's really too bad he made so few movies.

I went blues dancing on Friday night, which was great. I went a lot with Dina before moving out to Chicago, and I guess I got a little homesick so it was nice doing something familiar. There was a decent group of people there ranging from my age to much older dancers. Everyone was really nice, and surprisingly there were not any creepy people. I also remembered much more than I thought I would after two years of not dancing. I did not trip up any of my partners or just suck, which was nice. Maybe all the yoga helps with movement, because I cannot think of any other reason I would know how to blues dance after so long. I have also been trying to download as much blues music as possible (I just realized how bad that sounds...but I am poor and technologically savvy, so it's ok, right?), although I have no idea what I am doing. I did happen upon John Lee Hooker, who is awesome. He did "Boom Boom Boom Boom," which you might recognize...Also, Ella Fitzgerald is amazing. Her voice is possibly the most beautiful thing I have heard in a long time.

To round out my movies, music and reading weekend, I finished reading American Gods by Neil Gaiman. It was epic. It was also strange because I got the distinct feeling that Gaiman, who is British, knew more about America and loved American culture more than most Americans. The book was a little slow starting out, but it was just so ambitious and carefully crafted that I really did not mind the lingering pace. I could go into it more, but you all would probably be just as well off by reading the reviews on Amazon or by actual critics. Needless to say, I thought it was great.

That's all for now. I'll keep my complaints about the weather and school for another post. And that is probably the worst teaser for an upcoming post, ever.

Friday, November 21, 2008

The joys of helping people

I'll probably keep this post short because not much has happened this week. Really, after being at the Obama rally two weeks ago and seeing Rob Pattinson last week, I would have had to fuck Johnny Depp to top all of that. My life is so awesome, I know.

Anyway, I do have stories about this one class I'm taking. We have to take a course on "Vulnerable Groups" because we're obviously all sheltered, rich babies who know nothing about "those less fortunate." My personal opinions on our curriculum aside, they did make this class more interesting. Instead of being talked at for a couple hours a week, the coordinators of the class arranged 20 different sites for us to choose from. We would pick our top five sites and they would assign us to one of them for three weeks. There were some genuinely cool ones. I picked a rehabilitation center for brain injury patients as my top choice, which I had heard great things about. Planned Parenthood was also listed as a site, and we could watch them counsel women on abortions and watch them perform abortions. That was my second pick. Of course, I got my last choice.

I was assigned to a substance abuse group session at a residential facility. I figured I may not be very interested in it, but I would most likely be prescribing people narcotics in a few years. It would probably be handy to recognize signs of substance abuse and maybe learn a little about counseling drug-seeking patients. Two other classmates were part of my group, and we headed up together for our first session.

We got to the residential facility, which, to be honest, I thought it would be a rehab center. I was wrong. Residential facility does not mean rehab. It was a care facility for severely mentally ill people. Surprise! This was not just a substance abuse group. It was a group for psychotic people who abused drugs. Somehow - I really do not know how this happened - but they failed to mention the part where these people were completely disabled, not by their substance abuse problems, but by schizophrenia or severe depression. Now, I know substance abuse and mental illness go hand in hand, but there are varying degrees. I have done a lot of work in psychiatry for a second year, and I wanted to see more substance abuse recovery this time. And I don't know if any of you have tried speaking with schizophrenics, but it is not very fruitful if you have no idea what you are doing and you are creeped out by their blank stares.

Also, the care facility was like One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. Apparently, not much has changed since then, except we no longer lobotomize people for shits and giggles (and yet, ECT lives on...). There was a very distinct smell, which was some combination of shit, cigarette smoke and disinfectant. There was the stale, hospital-like atmosphere trying too hard to be warm despite the fluorescent-lighting and bright white walls and floors. And then there were the mentally ill people. Just very Cuckoo's Nest. I don't know how else to describe it. There were the lower functioning ones who sat away from the group, shaking their heads, laughing and talking to themselves. That was creepy. Most of the group members were nice and seemed to care, but I don't think they realized that we were not actually doctors. We got a lot of questions about how they could get out of the facility. One guy wanted our contact information, including our addresses, which was frightening. I don't know why people think we know things.

Then we got the random comments that left us speechless. One guy talked about how people have receivers in their heads telling them what to do. There were a lot of conspiracy theories about how the staff at the facility were withholding money or trying to kill them. The winner was the story, which one of the patients shared freely, about how she pushed her husband out of a second-story window. He was fine, but died two days later...Yeah. I'm speechless. We also learned that most of the psychiatrists working at the facility were committing fraud by milking Medicaid for care they were not really providing. Good times.

I am just so at a loss as to what to think about this. It's not like I didn't know these things happened or that these sorts of people existed. I worked at a free clinic in Berkeley for a year, and lived there for five years, so I know there are crazy, poor people out there. I just do not know what I am supposed to get out of this. I am not interested in psychiatry, and even if I were I doubt I could help anything. It's clearly not making me more compassionate, which I think was the point of this whole thing. I guess it gave me something to blog about, though. I'll take that.

Friday, November 14, 2008

To be 15 again...

So, the past few days have actually been kinda interesting. I guess I need to preface this whole thing by saying I may have developed a slight obsession with the Twilight Saga over the summer. Yes, the books written for teenagers about a high school girl falling in love with a vampire. I know. I know. I assure you, though, the books are better than they sound. It's hard to explain, so just trust me on this one.

The movie based on the first of the four books comes out next week. There has been massive promotion going on for the whole thing. Part of the promotion is a "tour" involving different cast members doing autograph signings at malls across the country. I found out that the guy who plays the lead vampire role would be coming to a mall in on of the suburbs here. He was in the fourth Harry Potter movie (and was killed off at the end of the movie), but otherwise he hasn't been in much else. Anyway, I decided that I wanted to go meet him for a number of reasons. One, I doubt I would have the chance to do anything like it ever again, so I might as well take advantage of this opportunity... He really is a decent actor (I've seen some work he did for BBC) so I figure he has a good chance of having a successful career and maybe even winning some Oscars or something. That really was incentive enough to meet him, but I had other reasons... Two, I could either go meet him, or be in class. Three, it just seemed like a stupid/fun thing to do, and I haven't done anything stupid/fun in a long time. Also, he's rather beautiful, so that didn't hurt.

Then, the planning started. As I mentioned, I had a class at the same time as the actual signing. So I emailed the coordinator and rescheduled for earlier that week. The mall I needed to get to turned out to be about 30 miles away with no public transportation to get there. I thought of taking a cab, or signing up for one of those car share things, but then I realized that renting a car would probably be the cheapest and easiest way to go. It turns out you only need to be 21 to rent a car here for some reason, so that worked out quite nicely. I also did my research, and realized that I would probably have to camp out to get one of only 500 wristbands from Hot Topic guaranteeing me an autograph (my experiences as a teeny bopper when I was actually 15 helped out with this one...thanks Backstreet Boys). I got all the provisions I would need to survive a Chicago night outside, like a homeless person.

At this point, everything was set. Wristbands would be handed out at 7:30am on Wednesday for a 6pm signing. Monday came around, and the first of these events happened in San Francisco. Apparently, they were not prepared for the 3000 people that showed up for the 500 wristbands and a near riot ensued with people getting trampled and noses being broken. I kinda freaked out at this point because I did not account for possible violence. Silly me. I did a little more research and found someone through a fan site (I know, my dorkiness knows no bounds) and emailed her asking if I could tag along, so at least someone could account for my dead body after being trampled by rabid 12-year olds. She said that was fine and she would get to the mall at 9pm on Tuesday night.

On Tuesday, I go to get the car around 5:30pm so I can make a quick stop at Target and really take advantage of having a car. I reserved the cheapest car possible, an economy-sized Chevy Aveo. I end up with a Chevy Uplander, which is a 7-seater, SUV-minivan hybrid (not like a prius hybrid, just a hybrid of a SUV and minivan...you know what I mean). I looked at the rental car guy as soon as I saw the car, and I was like "Yeah, I'll take the damage and liability insurance, please." I would not be held responsible for the many things I would hit parking that beast.

Anyway, I get on the road...and I miss driving. Gah it was so nice. I drove to the mall, which was really outside of the city. I seriously went through some weird forest-y area to get there, and I realized that I really need to get out of the city more often. Apparently there's other stuff outside of downtown. Who knew?

I got to the mall at 9:30, and met up with the random person I emailed. There were already about 70 people ahead of us in line. At 9:30pm. The person I met was actually really cool. She was 23, and with a friend who was 21, so I didn't feel so bad about being too old for this. We joked and chatted for a while and set up our little area with sleeping bags and provisions. Hot Topic staff were roaming about and keeping people orderly and entertained, so another mess like San Francisco wouldn't happen. The weather wasn't too bad. It's about 35-40 degrees, which was manageable. But then, it started raining. This was not fun at all. We were all bundled up and had umbrellas and whatnot, but everything still got soaked. Not only are we cold now, but wet. People oddly enough, weren't really complaining though. I think we all realized it would be a long night. Here are some pictures of people camping out:

It's a little dark, but I think you get the idea. I wasn't the only crazy person out there.

The mall staff that was there though were smarter about it. Around midnight, they counted that there were already 500 people there. They decided there was no reason to wait until 7:30 am and worked to open up the mall and sell us the wristbands. By the time we got into the mall, it was around 1-1:30am. My toes were frozen. It hurt everytime I took a step. I'm pretty sure I would have lost some toes if we stayed out there the whole night...but whatever, I still have all 10 of them.
This is us, inside the mall at like 1:30am. Malls are kinda weird and creepy at night...But, we kept ourselves occupied with stories and jokes and stuff, it was pretty fun overall. I got a wristband, which made me happy, and I got home around 3:30am.

So the next day, I skipped lecture and classes entirely, showered, got dressed and headed out to the mall again. I got there around 4pm and there's already a giant line for the signing. It was a similar scene to that morning, but we all looked waaaay less war torn and miserable.
So, 6pm rolls around. The actor, Rob Pattinson, shows up and the screaming began. It was incredibly high-pitched, as you can imagine. I refused to take part in that kind of screaming, mostly because large crowds and loud noises kinda freak me out. Also, I'm tired and a little cranky. We started moving up in the line, and, as we got closer, I started to get a little nervous. Once we're in the store, I was really pretty excited/nervous. We moved up in line to the point where I could see him signing autographs, and I realized the guy is just as handsome in real life as he is in pictures. I always sort of imagine that pictures are doctored a lot and the person probably looks normal in real life. I was wrong. Here's a picture that a newspaper took of the signing. (we were warned by the staff that we weren't allowed to take pictures and no touching! hehe)

Anyway, I went up to him, and he had the posters in front of him and would sign them as each person came up. I'm pretty sure I had a very stupid smile on my face. He said, "Hi, how are you?" and I pretty much replied, "Good. Um, how are you?" And that was basically it. I'm really lame, I know, but it was totally worth it. Also, I'm proud for not completely losing my shit and saying something stupid. I call it a win. Here's the autograph:

Oh, and a fun fact. One of the girls I was with brought her brother. We all got his signature with the "X" after it except for him, which I find really funny. In the 5 seconds we had with the guy, he was quick enough to realize if another guy was coming up and not give him a "kiss" or whatever. Pure silliness.