Ramble Strip

You might be a medical student if ...

I ran across this on a MySpace friend's blog, and was completely amused, because most of these are very true. I had comments, of course, which are in italics. I was glad to find this this morning, because I really just feel like crying today. Not med school related - I just had a bad evening yesterday. Anyway, enjoy!

When drinking, you and your friends think that the increase in your AST/ALT tomorrow is going to be hilarious!
You still do drugs, but at least you know what they do to you. And never fail to inform those you're doing them with.
You blame neurotransmitters for anything going wrong in your life.
You can have a conversation about the abscess you drained today while eating cream of broccoli soup without any problem at all. Or for that matter, over any kind of meal.
You amuse yourself by hiding anatomy and trauma pictures about the apartment for your non-medical roommate to find at awkward moments.
You chuckle whenever you see "fork" or "penis" labeled in a Netter's diagram.
You still attempt to explain to your family what's going on in med school.
You have named a dead person ... and talked to them about your stresses while finding their lumbar plexus.
When you go out with non-medical students, you're abnormally quiet, because you don't know what to talk about besides med school.
You know that specialties are pre-defined by personality type.
The drama in your life now is worse than it ever was in high school.
You refer to the semesters you took organic chemistry as "The Good Old Days."
You've ever heard the phrase "You must be smart, you're in med school!" and wanted to vehemently disagree.
You can't remember the last time you did anything spontaneous.
You consistently tell people that they just don't understand how bad it really is. (Yes, yes, and yes.)
You know that, in theory, you have a family and friends, but you can't place the last time you saw them.
You don't bother dating because the divorce rate is 70% for physicians.
You constantly find yourself saying things like "I just have to get to spring break" or "I just have to get through Step 1."
You question every day if you should drop out and open a coffee shop (for me, it's a photography studio) then realize that as soon as you were two semesters into med school, you were too far in debt to be anything but a doctor.
You can name the four people in your class who are the question-asker, the arguer, the bigshot doctor's son/daughter and the stoner/alkie/druggie who's never IN class. (Haaa. Yes.)
You know countless dirty mnemonics for parts of the body, but couldn't tell anyone what the front-page headline today is.
Your life consists of three parts: studying, drinking, and sleeping. (For me, replace "drinking" with "procrastinating", "crying", or "doing the running man in socks on my wood floor out of sheer delirium".)
You're not really sure which professional organizations you're actually a member of, but you never joined the AMA.
You've compared your friends to various immune system components, or some other enzyme. (Someone else does this???)
You notice your friends ask you how schools going, then realize they immediately regret it when you actually answer.
People assume you know something when you tell them you're in med school, but you know that you haven't learned anything.
You've dissected a penis and can explain the way Viagra works.
There are still drugs, body parts, slides, cell types, or diseases you don't know the morning of your exam.
You know that there is such a thing as studying too much and that after a certain peak, your grade starts going down with increased studying.
You know that even with residency hour restrictions, you're still making less than the secretary.
People constantly ask what med school is like, and all you can think of to say is "It really sucks." (Really, REALLY sucks.)
You've never had problems before, but 6 months into med school you're on birth control, an anti-depressant, an anti-anxiolytic and sleep medication. (I'm afraid my dad just had a heart attack here. Don't worry, Dad - for me, one should replace "birth control" with "pain meds for my eeeeevil pancreatitis which is aggravated by stress".)
You can name 3 specialties you're interested in, then immediately rule two of them out because they don't pay well enough to pay off your debt.
Half your class is Asian of some sort. The other half is Jewish. All of you are completely nuts.
A "study group" is you, your syllabus, and your Red Bull. (And Christy.)
You assess beverages for amount of caffeine before buying only those with more caffeine than coffee. Then you explain to the cashier how caffeine works for you.
You've done physical exams on your roommate, boyfriend, girlfriend, and any close friends.
You think "AWESOME!" if someone keels over in front of you.
You're pretty sure you used to be a normal social person, but now you can completely stop conversations by talking about the time that guy peed and bled all over you during a code.
You meet someone and have to put off a date for months because you're crazy busy.
Advisors tell you that you have to balance your life with med school, and then are baffled when you ask them how to do it.
You've thought something like "what's another $10,000 in loans?"
You're really frightened by the thought of some of your classmates becoming doctors. (I'm afraid my classmates think this about ME!)
You go a week without sleeping with no problem at all. (I still haven't figured out how to do this.)
Grey's Anatomy, House, Scrubs, Dr. 90210, Nip/Tuck and ER are your favorite shows, but you point out all the wrong things in them all the time.
You have diagnosed yourself or others with at least 5 rare diseases (PML, Kaposi's sarcoma, Measles, Rheumatic Heart Disease, etc.) (No, one eeeeevil rare disease that I actually have is enough.)
People talking to you for longer than 10 minutes start to get a glazed-over look while you wax poetic about kidney function. And you don't even notice.
You keep trying to "catch" the kidney, because Bates says you can. Nevermind that every doctor you know says you can't.
You create Facebook groups instead of studying for exams.
The word "holiday" indicates the weekend after exams to you.
You have a non-medical student in your life who either elbows you when you say inappropriate things or says "forgive him/her, s/he's a med student."
You have mastered the art of only remembering things for a few hours (specifically, the 12 hours up to and including the exam.)
You remember mnemonics from anatomy, but don't actually remember what they stand for.
You have at some point had a yelling, screaming, throwing things, breaking down and crying incident in the last month. (How about in the past week? Day? Hour?)
Your parents ask what you want for Christmas and you say "to be done with this semester."
Your sibling calls you crying or upset, but in the middle of their hysterics, asks you if you're studying or if you can take time to talk, concerned that they're bothering you.
You've thought something along the lines of "Couldn't my cousin/grandfather/brother have waited to get married/die/come visit until exams were over?"
You've read, heard, or wrote a poem, performed or choreographed a dance, or drawn pictures of anatomy, anatomy lab or med school in general.
You lose something like your license or cell phone a week before exams and don't even realize it's gone til afterwards.
You have heard classmates say "I'm going to fail" before the exam, many who then told you they got over a 90% on the exam ... and many who really did fail and got a 9%.
You see or hear about some disease or medically-related thing and instantly think "am I supposed to know that?"
You still think that patients actually will fit right into symptom parameters set by textbooks.
You've read House of God, don't totally get it, but know that you will when you're an intern.
You're anti-war, nonconformist, and dislike structure - yet still considered doing the Army/Navy/Air Force Health Programs in order to have them pay off your debt. (I'm totally NOT anti-war and nonconformist. But y'all already knew that.)
You find yourself becoming more like House and Dr. Cox as time goes on.
You watch medicine on TV shows and think "HA! As IF!"
When you talk about school to friends and family and every sentence is followed by "...is that good?"
You celebrate a 70 on a test. (Yes. With balloons and confetti, even.)
You've purposely sacrificed two tests in order to get an 80 on the third ... because there's absolutely no way to ace 8 subjects at the same time.
You see neurons in soap suds in your shower.

Gabe: On applesauce and Jesus

Last Sunday, Gabe was in his Sunday School class for preschoolers, and the teacher was asking each of them what they would give Jesus to eat if He came to their house. Gabe, being the thoughtful kid that he is, ruminated on the question for a minute, like this:

He finally decided, "Applesauce." The teacher, being a witness to this obvious display of a thought process, had to ask why. Gabe, of course, knew why - or at least, he knows why he's supposed to eat HIS applesauce:

"So His tummy won't hurt and He'll be able to move His bowels."

Bwahahaha. Kids are so funny. I'm going to have to have some one of these days, when I'm finished killing myself trying to be a doctor. I think any kid that Scott and I produce will probably be Jimmy Neutron (animated and all, obviously.) Or, some artsy type that has no interest in science whatsoever.

In other news, pharmacology is the stuff of the devil. And a word to the wise - don't get an arrhythmia, because it will probably kill you. And all drugs for arrhythmias will probably kill you too. It's the worst kind of news, really.

I'm shrinking! Shreeeeeenking! (I hope.)

I'm a Lifetime member at Weight Watchers - I lost about 40 pounds back in 1999, was running 3-5 miles a day, and my anxiety and depression were at an all-time low. I kept my new routine up for a couple of years, and then ended up in a downward spiral (long story, maybe I'll tell it sometime) and gained all I had lost plus more, and stopped exercising. And then I started medical school, and gained about 20 more pounds. Ugh.

But, I'm tired of being fat, ugly and repulsive. I'm tired of being Scott's fat girlfriend. I'm tired of being everybody's "fat friend". I'm tired of my rock-bottom self-esteem. I renewed my YMCA membership on Monday (and actually worked out on Monday, Tuesday and today) and re-joined Weight Watchers on Tuesday. This huge person I'm walking around in is not me, and I'm quite tired of her - her thunder thighs, sausage arms, lack of energy, and giant rear end. Keep me honest, y'all. I have exactly 50 pounds to lose to get back to my Weight Watchers goal weight. I'll keep you updated (because I know you care.) :-)

Dave Matthews on House? Squeeeee!

I read in TV Guide this week that Dave Matthews is going to be a guest star (i.e., Patient of the Week) on House M.D. in March. He'll play a pianist. Oh man, my head may explode. I am endlessly entertained by them both.

In other House news, there was a good song at the end of tonight's episode - Grey Room by Damien Rice (iTunes). I Googled the lyrics and then added it to my iTunes cart.

Speaking of lyrics - some particular lyrics of one of my favorite songs in the world, Long Ride Home by Patty Griffin (iTunes - go preview it at least - Patty Griffin is amazing) have been really hitting home with me lately:

Forty years go by with someone lying in your bed
Forty years of things you say you wish you'd never said
How hard would it have been to say some kinder words instead
I wonder as I stare up at the sky turning red
I've had some time to think about you
And watch the sun sink like a stone
I've had some time to think about you
On the long ride home
Headlights staring at the driveway
The house is dark as it can be
I go inside and all is silent
It seems as empty as the inside of me ...

I guess I'm grateful for life's ebbs and flows - it makes you appreciate the good times when you have to go through bad ones. But still - sometimes, I just feel emotionally drained - like I just have nothing left to give.

*sign*

Real Med Students of Genius

A take-off of the Budweiser commercials, Real Men of Genius, these hilarious clips (which may only be funny to actual medical students - be forewarned) just begged to be blogged. I think I'm a combination of Always Late to Small Group Guy (my favorite part of that one is "dyspnea on exertion ... huff huff huff ...") and Mr. Falls Asleep During Everything Guy. But, I'm not a guy. You know what I mean. Anyway - enjoy!

Mr. Always Late to Small Group Guy

Mr. Will This Be On The Exam Asker

Mr. Always Prepared For Everything Guy

Mr. Awesome Floor Team Avoider

Mr. Really Bad With Children Guy

Mr. Walk Behind the Lecturer Guy

Mr. Falls Asleep During Everything Guy

Mr. Accidental Scrub Out Guy

Things in pathology that make me want to barf

If someone asks me one more time, "Where is the mostly likely site for aspiration?" (it's the right main bronchus, by the way, because it's a straight shot into the right lung), I'm going to throw up and then proceed to aspirate it into my right main bronchus.

Check out these forceps in the right main bronchus:

Before Samuel graduates from college ...

... I should probably post this, because it amused me.

My cousin Jonathan and his wife Becky had a beautiful baby boy earlier this month, Samuel Lucas [last name], and for the first day or so of his life, he decided to only open one eye. Observe:

When Gabriel came to see him in the hospital, he said, "He's a pirate baby!" Hee.

Gabe, meanwhile, is plenty cute himself - in his kids' scrubs and lab coat that I bought him:

Check out that stethoscope. He and I were playing with his little "visible organs guy", and I was pointing out the spleen and eeeeevil pancreas and such, and told him that I'd like to have my own little anatomy model guy. He knows I'm in school to be a "real doctor", and he told me, "Doctors don't get to have toys." Ha. Actually they do, Gabe, they're just very expensive toys. :-)

By the way, I have two exams on Monday and one on Tuesday, and that's why I've been MIA for a few days. Pharmacology is scaaaary, yo. The more I study it, the less I feel like I know. Anyone out there know what I mean by that? (If someone does, I'd feel better. Especially if it's someone in my class.) More importantly, can anyone HELP?

I love Hugh Laurie so very, very much and could listen to him give speeches all day. He works words like "caboodle" into ordinary conversation, which is obviously a commendable quality.

In other news, I will not be the least surprised if I fail pharmacology.

The end.

Sad day

Three of my papaw's kids were in this fire last night, and haven't been heard from since 11PM on Saturday. (Papaw remarried and had a 2nd family after my dad was grown - so I have five aunts and uncles that are all younger than me.) And now three of them are unaccounted for. Although I barely knew the kids (I think they were 19, 17, and 14) - my heart breaks for my papaw. I can't imagine what he's feeling right now. And I pray that they all made their peace with the Lord before it was too late.

Edit - the kids' bodies have been identified. And here's a picture of them, a cap from our local news:

It's just so tragic and has been weighing heavily on my mind all weekend. It's so important that people know how you feel about them, and that you always know the condition of your soul - because you never know when your last chance will be.

Waaaaaaaah!

I didn't go to class this morning (four reasons - main reason, I overslept; also, I was at the hospital kind of late last night because my cousin-who-is-as-close-as-a-brother's wife was in labor (Eeeee! Welcome Samuel Lucas [insert last name here]!); I am so freaking tired and I probably would have slept through class anyway; and Mom was sick last night and I didn't want her to be awake and sick by herself, because I don't like to be left alone when I'm sick. So.)

I didn't go twice last week either, because of that evil GI virus I had and my eeeeeeevil pancreas. And we've only been in class for like, 9 days. I'm feeling guilty and panicky. The panicky part is a given, because I'm on the edge of an anxious breakdown anyway.

I'm not particularly worried about getting behind, because Christy and I have been studying a bit, in the afternoons/evenings, but I'm wondering - what kind of doctor am I even going to be, when my stupid pancreatitis or my anxiety attacks me at every turn; and also, when I want to be there for my family when something is going on, med school be darned? I'm afraid I'm not disciplined enough or something. *sigh*

Also, a couple of friends wanted to take Christy and me out to lunch this afternoon for our birthdays (both are in December, during our Christmas break) and I wasn't there for that, so they'll have to go without me or reschedule. I hope nobody is mad. I hate it when I make people mad. I need a hug.

At least I finally remembered to pay my class dues and avoided our class treasurers bone-breaking thugs.

Do you know the Muffin Man? Or Patty Rowe?

Yesterday, Christy and I were driving home from class when my gigantonormous car phone rang (yes, it's a CAR phone - it's the only kind that picks up in the boonies where I live. But I love those boonies, though - no way would I trade them for a big city. But the phone - when I use it, Christy goes, "Hi Zach, it's Kelly!" Ha ha. Make fun of Kim's humongous Miami Vice phone. Hardy har.)

Anyway, the phone rang, and it has this extremely loud ring that I can't figure out how to turn down, so we're both having arrhythmia, but I managed to answer:

Me: Hello? [pulling out the automatic defibrillator, since fibrillation is the "worst kind of news" (tm Dr. Wright)]
Nice Lady: Patty?
Me: (respiratory rate has slowed to below 80/minute now) No, I'm sorry - you have the wrong number.
Nice Lady: This isn't Patty Rowe? I've been trying to find Patty Rowe, and they keep giving me the wrong number.
Me: Nope, I'm sorry.
Nice Lady: Oh. Well, do you know Patty Rowe?
Me: What? No!

I wonder what people are thinking? That the world is so small, that everybody knows everybody, and that I was going to go, "Yeah, she's sitting right here!"? Or that, if you have a similar phone number, you must know each other? Strange. We got a good laugh of out of that, but then again, we were delirious from a coma-inducing pharmacology lecture. Or maybe it was 3 hours of lung pathology. Either one produces delirium.

I love my geek

I'll get to it - I just have to give you some backstory first.

I've been away from the blog for a few days, due to the fact that I woke up in the wee hours of the morning on January 1st and discovered I'd been invited to an exclusive Barf-A-Thon. I realize that's not all that unusual, considering what most people do on New Year's Eve, but I went to CHURCH, for crying out loud. Church! And there is no drinking at church. But somewhere in the days prior, unbeknownst to be, a virus had taken up residence - one that would eventually cause gross spewage from two different orifices. Ack. So that day, I was so dehydrated and weak and tired, I slept for about 18 hours (like a cat) and didn't even feel like sitting up. It was horrible.

The next day, there was no more spewage, and I could sit up for a few minutes, but no prolonged standing. And the NEXT day, I had to start school again. Bleargh. Somehow I managed to get through the morning, although I wished that our seats had barf bags on them like in airplanes, and that afternoon/evening I took two naps, and went to bed early, and I'm STILL tired and weak. Anybody else had this evil GI virus? How long before I feel back to normal? I mean, being tired is a given, because I'm a medical student, but I can't handle being double-tired. I even missed some lectures today, just because I felt like yesterday's garbage. And I really don't like to miss lectures.

So while I was napping and Mom was vacuuming (she's keeping me company and cleaning around the apartment, bless her heart) someone apparently hit my car, which was parked on the street. And the car behind the guilty car saw what happened, and saw the car hit me and drive off, and so he followed her, and got a license number and description of the car, and then came to my apartment building to try to find my car's owner.

I called Scott at the lab to tell him about my poor car, which is now missing a driver's sideview mirror (his truck is missing a passenger sideview mirror) and said, "Now we're twins!"

Him: Well, not twins - mine's missing a passenger side mirror.
Me: Oh. Mirror images, then.
Him: Non-superimposable mirror images.

Hah. I love him.

So I feel horrid, and I want to lie back down, but I had to post that little nugget of geek love. I should be able to rest up over the weekend and will hopefully be back to normal next week. Hopefully.

Random 10 - Happy Birthday to ME.

So, my birthday was the 26th (even though I'm writing it on the 29th - I've been busy getting old and what-not.) Anyway, I thought we'd do a little Random 10 Lyrics for my birthday - all from my birth year, 1978. And instead of 10, it's 14 - which is half of my age (I was going to do 28, but that's too darn many. Of anything, mostly.) Leave answers in the comments - the one with the most correct gets an iTunes song, courtesy of the birthday ~~girl~~ old lady. And ... go!

Every day, love me your own special way. Melt all my heart away With a smile. Take time to tell me you really care, and we'll share tomorrow together.
Love him till your arms break, then he lets you down. It ain't right, with love to share, when you find he doesn't care for you. It ain't wise to need someone as much as I depended on you.
The sun ain't nearly on the rise, and we still got the moon and stars above. Underneath the velvet skies, love is all that matters - won't you stay with me? And don't you ever leave.
Feeling down & dirty, feeling kinda mean - I've been from one to another extreme. This time I had a good time, ain't got time to wait. I wanna stick around till I can't see straight.
Don't know why I'm surviving every lonely day, when there's got to be no chance for me - my life would end. And it doesn't matter how I cry - my tears of love are a waste of time. If I turn away, am I strong enough to see it through? Go crazy is what I will do.
If you need me, let me know, gonna be around. If you've got no place to go, if you're feeling down - if you're all alone when the pretty birds have flown - honey I'm still free.
I finally see the dawn arrivin'. I see beyond the road I'm drivin'. Far away, and left behind.
I gotta know right now! Do you love me? Will you love me forever? Do you need me? Will you never leave me? Will you make me so happy for the rest of my life? Will you take me away and will you make me your wife? I gotta know right now! Before we go any further - do you love me, and will you love me forever?
All you gotta do is smile that smile, and there go all my defenses. Just leave it up to you, and in a little while, you're messin' up my mind and fillin' up my senses.
We take the pressure and we throw away, conventionality belongs to yesterday. There is a chance that we can make it so far - we start believing now that we can be who we are.
I don't mind you comin' here and wastin all my time, time - 'cause when youre standin' oh so near, I kinda lose my mind, yeah. It's not the perfume that you wear, it's not the ribbons in your hair. I don't mind you comin' here and wastin' all my time.
Well now, I get low and I get high - and if I cant get either, I really try. Got the wings of heaven on my shoes - I'm a dancin' man and I just can't lose.
I've paid my dues, time after time. I've done my sentence but committed no crime. And bad mistakes - I've made a few - I've had my share of sand kicked in my face, but I've come through.
My love for you is immeasurable; my respect for you immense. You're ageless, timeless, lace and fineness; you're beauty and elegance. You're a rhapsody, a comedy, you're a symphony and a play. You're every love song ever written. But honey what do you see in me?

Also, if anyone happens to see another common theme in these songs - well, don't mention it. Heh.

The search is NOT over. No, Survivor, it is not. Is not. Is not. Is not.

I have been looking for no less than 18 months for the SNL clip of John Goodman as Wilford Brimley - you know, when he's on the inexplicable horse and says things like, "I don't eat oatmeal - looks like someone else already ate it first" and "I don't even have diabetes - doctor just says I look like somebody who'd have it" and "I'm going to get off of this horse - actually, just onto a smaller horse, and then onto a large dog, and then just roll onto the ground."

At any rate, it's hilarious. I've set my Windows Media Center laptop to record every SNL that happens to run somewhere (on E!, or whatever) hoping to catch that clip. And I'm still looking.

But I was just perusing some of my friends on MySpace, and my cousin Nate has this little nugget of hilarity on his page - Wilford Brimley and his beetis. Or beetiz. Not sure which. Anyway, look here, this is funny.

Oh my freaking heck, that is funny. It almost makes up for having to hear "dia-BEET-EEES" ad nauseum. Y'all in my class know what I'm talking about.