Frankly, I'm exhausted. I've been running full speed since I landed in the wee hours of Thursday AM after having been delayed by two hours on the tarmac in Miami. But, I'll leave you with this until I find my missing Energizer Bunny....
It's a few words of wisdom from the Bioethics professor. Point one: ”When in doubt on an exam question in medical school pertaining to medication side effects, always select the answer choice that includes diarrhea and vomiting.” Point two: “Avoid Killing people”.
Check.
Monday, August 17, 2009
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Yup. Still cleaning.
Among today's finds:
Here is something to help make the day a little easier. Know that I'm thinking of you and wishing I were there with you.
There is a light at the end of this tunnel and I can promise you that you will feel less lonely when you have finished this step of the journey. I believe in you. I believe you can do special things.
Don't give up when the end is so near. Whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger and this task will be worth its weight in gold.
I would never stand by and watch you endure something I thought was bad for you. Never.
**Sent via messenger with a thermos of piping hot Moroccan mint tea and a box of Swiss chocolate.
Where is a guy like that while I'm in med school : )?
Oh, and as I recall - he was right. The task was well worth it's weight in precious metal.
April 19th, 2004
Dear Simrun,Here is something to help make the day a little easier. Know that I'm thinking of you and wishing I were there with you.
There is a light at the end of this tunnel and I can promise you that you will feel less lonely when you have finished this step of the journey. I believe in you. I believe you can do special things.
Don't give up when the end is so near. Whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger and this task will be worth its weight in gold.
I would never stand by and watch you endure something I thought was bad for you. Never.
**Sent via messenger with a thermos of piping hot Moroccan mint tea and a box of Swiss chocolate.
Where is a guy like that while I'm in med school : )?
Oh, and as I recall - he was right. The task was well worth it's weight in precious metal.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Archaeological Artifacts
You might be wondering what on EARTH I’ve been doing to occupy myself now that I’m not taking Anatomy. No? Shame, ‘cause I’m going to talk about it anyway…..
First of all, I never mentioned how the summer started. Although, I feel a separate entry for that is definitely in order. So, how about I back track later, eh?
Aside from working here and there for a temp agency, I’ve been doing an INSANE amount of cleaning and organizing of the years of my life that got stuck at my parents’ house. And, for those of you who don’t know – that’s quite a few calendars to plough through. Consider that I’ve essentially lived away from home (not counting school vacations) since I was 14 (I went to boarding school for High School, soooo….you do the math).
This brings me to the fact that I’ve discovered some wondrous things in my archaeological exploration of artifacts like boxes that remained still packed in the garage from my move back to CA from New York…apparently I ditched some randoms with the rents sans opening before booking it for LA. It seems I wrote a lot. Or, I sorta scribbled a fair amount. Oh, and I used to save random letters and cards that people gave me. Well, not totally random ones, but things that had some sort of meaning at the time. This has turned out to offer incredible insight. Although, it has been clutter inducing - a fact which I am now remedying, thank you very much.
Letters from my parents offering words of encouragement during tough times, letters from the very same parents admonishing their delinquent daughter, Valentine's Day cards of note, anything from my brother, birthday cards with witty wording, remnants of former trysts....
I found a card from someone that I dated briefly but remain friends with to this day, and am coincidentally having lunch with next week. It was an apology for missing my birthday party one year. After reading it, and noting that it was dripping with sarcasm, I couldn’t stop smiling. I remembered exactly the events that took place that led to the writing of that note. I am tempted to show it to him when I see him. We’ve both come a very long way since the ink went onto that card.
There were many more such tidbits that fell out of the most random places. In another box, this one from the top shelf in my closet, I found an old journal of mine. The first few pages described my sentiments towards someone that has, until a few hours after I read the entry, haunted me for more than a decade. The epiphany that came from seeing a reflection of my former self was that I was in the same place with that person as I had been for 13 years. Suddenly, I could acknowledge what had previously been impossible- It was simply not meant to be, nor should it be. I haven’t felt this free since the day before the two of us met.
I found a hilarious piece of evidence that I did in fact have some semblance of a friendship with a member of my extended family that I let myself believe I never had. Yet, there it was, in an all too humorous printed copy of an email from her to myself and two other people expressing her angst at having to deal with her parents giving her the “marriage talk” over a perfectly innocent inquiry into when would be a convenient time for her to book her flight to such and such a place. Seems unrelated, right? Indian parents are unbelievably capable of turning just about anything into a marriage talk once you are over the age of 20. I wish I were kidding.
Right.
Back to the boxes. Did I tell you about the one from an ex-boyfriend that broke up with me in a handwritten letter (sent via messenger to my place of work) that compared our relationship to the Sword of Damocles? No?
Well, I had to Google “Sword of Damocles” to even get a clue what he was talking about.
But, that’s also a story for another time.
‘Night kids.
First of all, I never mentioned how the summer started. Although, I feel a separate entry for that is definitely in order. So, how about I back track later, eh?
Aside from working here and there for a temp agency, I’ve been doing an INSANE amount of cleaning and organizing of the years of my life that got stuck at my parents’ house. And, for those of you who don’t know – that’s quite a few calendars to plough through. Consider that I’ve essentially lived away from home (not counting school vacations) since I was 14 (I went to boarding school for High School, soooo….you do the math).
This brings me to the fact that I’ve discovered some wondrous things in my archaeological exploration of artifacts like boxes that remained still packed in the garage from my move back to CA from New York…apparently I ditched some randoms with the rents sans opening before booking it for LA. It seems I wrote a lot. Or, I sorta scribbled a fair amount. Oh, and I used to save random letters and cards that people gave me. Well, not totally random ones, but things that had some sort of meaning at the time. This has turned out to offer incredible insight. Although, it has been clutter inducing - a fact which I am now remedying, thank you very much.
Letters from my parents offering words of encouragement during tough times, letters from the very same parents admonishing their delinquent daughter, Valentine's Day cards of note, anything from my brother, birthday cards with witty wording, remnants of former trysts....
I found a card from someone that I dated briefly but remain friends with to this day, and am coincidentally having lunch with next week. It was an apology for missing my birthday party one year. After reading it, and noting that it was dripping with sarcasm, I couldn’t stop smiling. I remembered exactly the events that took place that led to the writing of that note. I am tempted to show it to him when I see him. We’ve both come a very long way since the ink went onto that card.
There were many more such tidbits that fell out of the most random places. In another box, this one from the top shelf in my closet, I found an old journal of mine. The first few pages described my sentiments towards someone that has, until a few hours after I read the entry, haunted me for more than a decade. The epiphany that came from seeing a reflection of my former self was that I was in the same place with that person as I had been for 13 years. Suddenly, I could acknowledge what had previously been impossible- It was simply not meant to be, nor should it be. I haven’t felt this free since the day before the two of us met.
I found a hilarious piece of evidence that I did in fact have some semblance of a friendship with a member of my extended family that I let myself believe I never had. Yet, there it was, in an all too humorous printed copy of an email from her to myself and two other people expressing her angst at having to deal with her parents giving her the “marriage talk” over a perfectly innocent inquiry into when would be a convenient time for her to book her flight to such and such a place. Seems unrelated, right? Indian parents are unbelievably capable of turning just about anything into a marriage talk once you are over the age of 20. I wish I were kidding.
Right.
Back to the boxes. Did I tell you about the one from an ex-boyfriend that broke up with me in a handwritten letter (sent via messenger to my place of work) that compared our relationship to the Sword of Damocles? No?
Well, I had to Google “Sword of Damocles” to even get a clue what he was talking about.
But, that’s also a story for another time.
‘Night kids.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
So, It Turns out…..I really am a pussy
I thought I’d be clever and save myself some agony during Term 1 by taking Anatomy at UC Irvine over the summer.
Yes, I can hear what you are thinking. I DID take Anatomy in Foundations To Medicine and YES, I know that early burn out could be an issue- but I’m stubborn. And, I DO in fact recall how miserable I was as an undergrad at UC Irvine.
But, I told myself that this time it would be different. After all, I am such a far cry from the person I was in my college days. And, since I just took Anatomy, it should be a pretty straightforward review, right?
Right.
In I walked to a tidal wave of memories, associations, and many of the old issues that are apparently still very much alive and well at the University of Chinese and Indians – one of the many beloved acronyms for UC Irvine which I feel I am at liberty to use since I am in fact, Indian. Let’s start with how the prof. made it very clear that there will only be a certain number of “A’s” and how he intentionally makes his exams very difficult in order to insure this fact. I am not really sure how that ties in with good teaching and an optimum learning environment. Call me crazy, but why not just write a good exam that tests what you think your students should have learned in that amount of time? I know, I am SO avant-garde sometimes I astound even myself.
Beyond the grading issue though, just being ON campus made me feel depressed- which is odd because I do use the unbelievably awesome campus gym regularly. Me and Kobe Bryant have that in common. Anyway, the point is that the gym is kind of off to the side and not near any of the teaching buildings. Hence, the difference in my psyche….I think. That plus the fact that endorphins make you happy and happy people just don’t kill people.
But seriously, it wasn’t just that it was a depressing feeling, it was that the professor kinda sucked to be honest. I was pleasantly shocked to discover what a good preliminary education I seem to have gotten in Grenada already. The man couldn’t even define a condyle properly. Hello, basic anatomical term definitions? Furthermore, he doesn’t use ANY visuals at all. Ummmm, isn’t it important to identify the structure you are referring to….VISUALLY. Instead he makes crude drawings on the white board that are supposed to resemble things like the bones of the skull. He claims that he doesn’t want to inundate us with images when we have a book that has plenty of them.
The only somewhat redeeming factor is that he does have good notes that are online (sans images of course) but then he ruins it by basically repeating them verbatim during “lecture”.
Awesome.
Needless to say, I hit the “Drop” button 2 days in. Surprised?
Yeah, didn’t think so.
Yes, I can hear what you are thinking. I DID take Anatomy in Foundations To Medicine and YES, I know that early burn out could be an issue- but I’m stubborn. And, I DO in fact recall how miserable I was as an undergrad at UC Irvine.
But, I told myself that this time it would be different. After all, I am such a far cry from the person I was in my college days. And, since I just took Anatomy, it should be a pretty straightforward review, right?
Right.
In I walked to a tidal wave of memories, associations, and many of the old issues that are apparently still very much alive and well at the University of Chinese and Indians – one of the many beloved acronyms for UC Irvine which I feel I am at liberty to use since I am in fact, Indian. Let’s start with how the prof. made it very clear that there will only be a certain number of “A’s” and how he intentionally makes his exams very difficult in order to insure this fact. I am not really sure how that ties in with good teaching and an optimum learning environment. Call me crazy, but why not just write a good exam that tests what you think your students should have learned in that amount of time? I know, I am SO avant-garde sometimes I astound even myself.
Beyond the grading issue though, just being ON campus made me feel depressed- which is odd because I do use the unbelievably awesome campus gym regularly. Me and Kobe Bryant have that in common. Anyway, the point is that the gym is kind of off to the side and not near any of the teaching buildings. Hence, the difference in my psyche….I think. That plus the fact that endorphins make you happy and happy people just don’t kill people.
But seriously, it wasn’t just that it was a depressing feeling, it was that the professor kinda sucked to be honest. I was pleasantly shocked to discover what a good preliminary education I seem to have gotten in Grenada already. The man couldn’t even define a condyle properly. Hello, basic anatomical term definitions? Furthermore, he doesn’t use ANY visuals at all. Ummmm, isn’t it important to identify the structure you are referring to….VISUALLY. Instead he makes crude drawings on the white board that are supposed to resemble things like the bones of the skull. He claims that he doesn’t want to inundate us with images when we have a book that has plenty of them.
The only somewhat redeeming factor is that he does have good notes that are online (sans images of course) but then he ruins it by basically repeating them verbatim during “lecture”.
Awesome.
Needless to say, I hit the “Drop” button 2 days in. Surprised?
Yeah, didn’t think so.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
The Nature Of The Beast
There are certain truths about life in Grenada. For instance, one’s expectations of what is “convenient” must shift for maximal adaptation. There are those among us, including myself from time to time, that either forget this fact, or never learned it in the first place. Case in point – summer storage.
The “well adjusted” perspective would realize that it is incredible that the school not only thought to provide us with it, but seems to have SOME sort of system in place with which we can in fact place belongings in between terms.
Then there is the “But, I’m still in America” perspective. This outlook is appalled at everything ranging from the sparse hours that are available to actually place your things in aforementioned storage location to the fact that there is a disclaimer stating that SGU is NOT responsible for any stolen or damaged items. Furthermore, they are enraged at the shear number of logistics they are being asked to undertake themselves in order to be moved out in the time and manner outlined by the housing office.
In the words of one of my favorite bloggers and fellow students, all I can say is, T.I.G.
The sooner you take it to heart, the better off you’ll feel.
P.S. - finals went beautifully, now all I have to do is take the PMSCE on Monday and I'll be home onThursday!!
The “well adjusted” perspective would realize that it is incredible that the school not only thought to provide us with it, but seems to have SOME sort of system in place with which we can in fact place belongings in between terms.
Then there is the “But, I’m still in America” perspective. This outlook is appalled at everything ranging from the sparse hours that are available to actually place your things in aforementioned storage location to the fact that there is a disclaimer stating that SGU is NOT responsible for any stolen or damaged items. Furthermore, they are enraged at the shear number of logistics they are being asked to undertake themselves in order to be moved out in the time and manner outlined by the housing office.
In the words of one of my favorite bloggers and fellow students, all I can say is, T.I.G.
The sooner you take it to heart, the better off you’ll feel.
P.S. - finals went beautifully, now all I have to do is take the PMSCE on Monday and I'll be home onThursday!!
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Miss Manners
I know we’re all a tad stressed out heading in to the home stretch here, but I’m not completely sure how that needs to correlate with the state of affairs in Taylor Hall these days. To start with, when I arrived at this palatial hall of perfect cubicles and wireless internet this morning, it was looking much less than it’s usual pristine self. There was trash everywhere. Partially filled water bottles were strewn all around, candy wrappers, plastic bags, a sticky dried soda spill……At some point before 9:00 AM the cleaning staff came through. But, I honestly don’t think that they should be picking up our trash.
Cut to later this evening – same location. I left for an hour and change to eat and breathe a bit. But, knowing that I needed to keep my claim clear on my favorite spot, I, like most of us, left behind some items to make it obvious that this particular cubicle was spoken for. These items were not at all small and hard to notice. I left a sweatshirt hanging over the back of the chair, two books (one of them is approximately 4 inches thick and bright red – pretty hard to miss), and some notes. When I returned, in addition to what I had left there, I saw an empty backpack on top of the desk along with a huge stack of notes, an ID with attached keys, and a cell phone.
Perhaps I wasn’t clear – this is not the storage cubicle. I’ve been sitting in the SAME spot since 6:45 AM this morning. I asked out loud whose things they were only to discover that they belonged to the gentleman on my right. He reluctantly took back his things and assembled them at his OWN cubicle immediately adjacent to the one I had been using. I was shocked that there was absolutely no attempt at an apology. It was more a look of resentment for coming back and crowding his personal space even more in these anxious days of cramming.
So, to you in the red shirt on my right I say – I am sorry that your manners got left at your departure terminal. I do hope you find them soon.
Now, back to the male reproductive system. May "Red Shirt Guy" use it with caution.
Yes. Finals really do bring out the best in moi.
Cut to later this evening – same location. I left for an hour and change to eat and breathe a bit. But, knowing that I needed to keep my claim clear on my favorite spot, I, like most of us, left behind some items to make it obvious that this particular cubicle was spoken for. These items were not at all small and hard to notice. I left a sweatshirt hanging over the back of the chair, two books (one of them is approximately 4 inches thick and bright red – pretty hard to miss), and some notes. When I returned, in addition to what I had left there, I saw an empty backpack on top of the desk along with a huge stack of notes, an ID with attached keys, and a cell phone.
Perhaps I wasn’t clear – this is not the storage cubicle. I’ve been sitting in the SAME spot since 6:45 AM this morning. I asked out loud whose things they were only to discover that they belonged to the gentleman on my right. He reluctantly took back his things and assembled them at his OWN cubicle immediately adjacent to the one I had been using. I was shocked that there was absolutely no attempt at an apology. It was more a look of resentment for coming back and crowding his personal space even more in these anxious days of cramming.
So, to you in the red shirt on my right I say – I am sorry that your manners got left at your departure terminal. I do hope you find them soon.
Now, back to the male reproductive system. May "Red Shirt Guy" use it with caution.
Yes. Finals really do bring out the best in moi.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Anticipation
The moment before I open the first page of an exam, my hands shake a little. Sometimes my entire body shakes. Then there is a hint of hesitation before I throw the page behind it’s staple and dive my eyeballs downward onto the top of the page to see what Professor X has on his menu this evening.…..
Professor X was kind I think. That wasn’t bad last week. Until the next morning, when professor Y served up a rather unpleasant after breakfast tidbit and called it biochem a la nit picky. Not fun. But, in the end, not horrible either.
This was last week.
Last week was a trying one on many levels. I feel like I grew up a little. Had to make some tough life decisions and am going through the process of bearing burdens that come with life circumstances and decisions made. In retrospect, it feels good. Well, not good exactly, but more like appropriate. Then it dawned on me ….this must be how my parents feel all the time. That’s nuts. That’s not such a great feeling. Or maybe you grow into it and ultimately take ownership of it until it becomes a skin that you are comfortable in - this whole adult thing and adult decisions thing. I’m trying to fight the urge to bury my head in my mother’s lap the moment I arrive home. Then again, what else is a mother’s lap for?
21 days.
14 days until my first final exam.
S out.
Professor X was kind I think. That wasn’t bad last week. Until the next morning, when professor Y served up a rather unpleasant after breakfast tidbit and called it biochem a la nit picky. Not fun. But, in the end, not horrible either.
This was last week.
Last week was a trying one on many levels. I feel like I grew up a little. Had to make some tough life decisions and am going through the process of bearing burdens that come with life circumstances and decisions made. In retrospect, it feels good. Well, not good exactly, but more like appropriate. Then it dawned on me ….this must be how my parents feel all the time. That’s nuts. That’s not such a great feeling. Or maybe you grow into it and ultimately take ownership of it until it becomes a skin that you are comfortable in - this whole adult thing and adult decisions thing. I’m trying to fight the urge to bury my head in my mother’s lap the moment I arrive home. Then again, what else is a mother’s lap for?
21 days.
14 days until my first final exam.
S out.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Free Flowing
Yes, I had a birthday.
I think the silence for the past (almost) two weeks has been a strange avoidance of public acknowledgement on my part – with an emphasis on MY PART. My friends and family definitely made sure that I knew that I was loved. Starting the Friday before the Wednesday that was my birthday with a gathering at one of my new favorite island spots for pizza (yeah, you read that right – p-i-z-z-a), live music, and happy hour. This was followed by dinner at Dodgey Dock, which is also becoming a favorite, on my actual birthday. One of my roommates for next term is a woman of many talents who made me a lucky crane (origami folks, she didn’t genetically engineer it) – it’s quite perfect actually. I’ve always been impressed with anyone that can do extremely complicated things with extremely uncomplicated paper.
Speaking of interesting hobbies, I am working on getting my PADI open water diving certification. I figure there’s no better time or place. The water here is absolutely beautiful and I hear there are some pretty amazing things to see in terms of critters and shipwrecks. There’s also an underwater sculpture garden.
So far, I’ve finished the theory part of the course and the confined pool dives. I ended up having to sign up alone since in a comedy of errors all those previously insisting that they were gung ho somehow managed to have a “good reason” why they couldn’t actually hand over the plastic when the time came. Okay, some of you really did have a good reason, but I can still gripe about it dammit.
Sigh.
BUT – it’s not so bad. I ended up meeting some really great first termers who I did the confined pool dive with (1.5 full days in the pool at the Calabash Hotel does wonders for the pruned skin look if you’re into that) and am very much looking forward to a first open water dive with them this coming Friday. We are going to the afore mentioned underwater sculpture garden, some place called Flamingo Bay, and a shipwreck called The Veronica – if you ask me it sounds like it was doomed from the start (apologies if your name is in fact Veronica).
I think the most amazing thing I learned during confined dive was what to do with a free flowing regulator. When I read about this in the manual you are given to read for the theory portion of the course, it didn’t really make sense. Then, when asked to execute it, I was utterly confused at first. The point is, if your regulator (the apparatus that you breathe out of while diving) begins to expel it’s oxygen continuously for some reason, you have to figure out how to manage to breathe from the air that is escaping like vital meds out of a ruptured IV bag. So, you tilt your head to the right, hold the right side of the regulator in your mouth and let the left side remain out. The air flows out through the left side from which you “sip” it. You would think that you’d end up with water in your lungs instead of air, but you actually can manage to only take in the air.
Frankly, I was dumbfounded. It took me a while to believe that I was actually going to get air in my lungs instead of water, so like the cautious child, I watched everyone else do it first before proceeding. Of course, once that’s over you’re almost out of air, so if it were anything other than a simulation I guess you’d have to pray that your dive buddy had enough for two.
Speaking of things flowing, we started pulmonary physiology today and it’s pretty fantastic that several of the basic principles lectured on today were covered in the dive manual.
Gotta love being inadvertently ahead – even if it’s only by a millisecond.
Hey, I never said I wasn’t neurotic.
I think the silence for the past (almost) two weeks has been a strange avoidance of public acknowledgement on my part – with an emphasis on MY PART. My friends and family definitely made sure that I knew that I was loved. Starting the Friday before the Wednesday that was my birthday with a gathering at one of my new favorite island spots for pizza (yeah, you read that right – p-i-z-z-a), live music, and happy hour. This was followed by dinner at Dodgey Dock, which is also becoming a favorite, on my actual birthday. One of my roommates for next term is a woman of many talents who made me a lucky crane (origami folks, she didn’t genetically engineer it) – it’s quite perfect actually. I’ve always been impressed with anyone that can do extremely complicated things with extremely uncomplicated paper.
Speaking of interesting hobbies, I am working on getting my PADI open water diving certification. I figure there’s no better time or place. The water here is absolutely beautiful and I hear there are some pretty amazing things to see in terms of critters and shipwrecks. There’s also an underwater sculpture garden.
So far, I’ve finished the theory part of the course and the confined pool dives. I ended up having to sign up alone since in a comedy of errors all those previously insisting that they were gung ho somehow managed to have a “good reason” why they couldn’t actually hand over the plastic when the time came. Okay, some of you really did have a good reason, but I can still gripe about it dammit.
Sigh.
BUT – it’s not so bad. I ended up meeting some really great first termers who I did the confined pool dive with (1.5 full days in the pool at the Calabash Hotel does wonders for the pruned skin look if you’re into that) and am very much looking forward to a first open water dive with them this coming Friday. We are going to the afore mentioned underwater sculpture garden, some place called Flamingo Bay, and a shipwreck called The Veronica – if you ask me it sounds like it was doomed from the start (apologies if your name is in fact Veronica).
I think the most amazing thing I learned during confined dive was what to do with a free flowing regulator. When I read about this in the manual you are given to read for the theory portion of the course, it didn’t really make sense. Then, when asked to execute it, I was utterly confused at first. The point is, if your regulator (the apparatus that you breathe out of while diving) begins to expel it’s oxygen continuously for some reason, you have to figure out how to manage to breathe from the air that is escaping like vital meds out of a ruptured IV bag. So, you tilt your head to the right, hold the right side of the regulator in your mouth and let the left side remain out. The air flows out through the left side from which you “sip” it. You would think that you’d end up with water in your lungs instead of air, but you actually can manage to only take in the air.
Frankly, I was dumbfounded. It took me a while to believe that I was actually going to get air in my lungs instead of water, so like the cautious child, I watched everyone else do it first before proceeding. Of course, once that’s over you’re almost out of air, so if it were anything other than a simulation I guess you’d have to pray that your dive buddy had enough for two.
Speaking of things flowing, we started pulmonary physiology today and it’s pretty fantastic that several of the basic principles lectured on today were covered in the dive manual.
Gotta love being inadvertently ahead – even if it’s only by a millisecond.
Hey, I never said I wasn’t neurotic.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Learning Strategies
Every so often I take an approximately 20 second break from a lecture and find myself observing my fellow classmates. Do you ever notice that some of them are doing the same thing? Or maybe they only seem to be because they are noticing you noticing them. Is that awkward? Because I’m really not sure. Maybe it’s more funny than awkward?
Then there are those moments when you’re completely absorbed in the lecture, vigorously scribbling or staring into the depths of the slide projected onto the screen in front of you as if it could spew forth it’s contents directly into your brain. Few things irk me more in those moments than someone asking me to clarify something that was just said, or noticing someone glancing at my page scribbling when and what I’m scribbling. Really? How do you know I’m any smarter or more alert than you? You could be copying down my grocery list for all you know.
The point is, I find it distracting and it so completely ruins the flow that you can feel the dump of useful information flowing down your back instead of into your brain like water off of a duck’s back.
Then again, maybe I’m disturbing others when I’m on a 20 second mind wandering spree in the middle of the difference between neurohormones, neurotransmitters, and hormones?
Oh, and for those of you that are actually able to fall asleep during lecture …wow. Honestly, Sonic Foundry is your friend. I bet you can sleep on airplanes too.
Neat.
Then there are those moments when you’re completely absorbed in the lecture, vigorously scribbling or staring into the depths of the slide projected onto the screen in front of you as if it could spew forth it’s contents directly into your brain. Few things irk me more in those moments than someone asking me to clarify something that was just said, or noticing someone glancing at my page scribbling when and what I’m scribbling. Really? How do you know I’m any smarter or more alert than you? You could be copying down my grocery list for all you know.
The point is, I find it distracting and it so completely ruins the flow that you can feel the dump of useful information flowing down your back instead of into your brain like water off of a duck’s back.
Then again, maybe I’m disturbing others when I’m on a 20 second mind wandering spree in the middle of the difference between neurohormones, neurotransmitters, and hormones?
Oh, and for those of you that are actually able to fall asleep during lecture …wow. Honestly, Sonic Foundry is your friend. I bet you can sleep on airplanes too.
Neat.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
The Tao Of Dad
What is it about mental associations that can be so helpful or hindering depending on the circumstances? In some instances, all we have to do is choose not to make a mental connection with something or the reverse in order to manipulate our minds into an amenable state.
The majority of this week’s academic load made it impossible for me to ignore thoughts about my Dad. In physiology, we began studying the digestive system (my father is a Gastroenterologist). In biochemistry, we started the week with the TCA cycle….he wrote his thesis on the TCA cycle back in the day. So, in spite of the fact that this material isn’t necessarily any harder than any of the other material, I somehow find myself feeling like it’s a bigger hurdle than it is. It’s as if the bar has been preset to a level that I don’t think I can jump to. I’ve always had a tremendous amount of awe and respect for things that my father has accomplished in life. I never thought I was the sort that would achieve to the extent that he did. The drive that he possesses is virtually unparalleled. Whatever needs to be done – he makes it happen, and he is a damn good doctor. I’ve known that my whole life. When I was little, I used to tag along with him at the hospital on occasion (often because he got called in while I was with him and there was no time to drop me off I’m sure). The nurses would always be extremely nice to me and tell me how wonderful he was. Once in a while, we’d bump into patients of his while out at a restaurant or something. You could tell that they were glad he was their physician, that they trusted him. Isn’t that one of the most crucial elements to being a solid practitioner – gaining the trust of your patient?
Or, maybe you see someone or something and it reminds you of a pleasant memory or even an unpleasant one. That line of thinking can either go all the way to the end of the rainbow or straight to your darkest hour.
I’ve become so much more aware of what I associate certain things with that I think I’m finally on my way to nipping the unwanteds in the proverbial bud.
Now if I could just convince myself that Nutella is really whipped feces, I’d be set.
Enjoy your dinner now, ya hear : ).
The majority of this week’s academic load made it impossible for me to ignore thoughts about my Dad. In physiology, we began studying the digestive system (my father is a Gastroenterologist). In biochemistry, we started the week with the TCA cycle….he wrote his thesis on the TCA cycle back in the day. So, in spite of the fact that this material isn’t necessarily any harder than any of the other material, I somehow find myself feeling like it’s a bigger hurdle than it is. It’s as if the bar has been preset to a level that I don’t think I can jump to. I’ve always had a tremendous amount of awe and respect for things that my father has accomplished in life. I never thought I was the sort that would achieve to the extent that he did. The drive that he possesses is virtually unparalleled. Whatever needs to be done – he makes it happen, and he is a damn good doctor. I’ve known that my whole life. When I was little, I used to tag along with him at the hospital on occasion (often because he got called in while I was with him and there was no time to drop me off I’m sure). The nurses would always be extremely nice to me and tell me how wonderful he was. Once in a while, we’d bump into patients of his while out at a restaurant or something. You could tell that they were glad he was their physician, that they trusted him. Isn’t that one of the most crucial elements to being a solid practitioner – gaining the trust of your patient?
Or, maybe you see someone or something and it reminds you of a pleasant memory or even an unpleasant one. That line of thinking can either go all the way to the end of the rainbow or straight to your darkest hour.
I’ve become so much more aware of what I associate certain things with that I think I’m finally on my way to nipping the unwanteds in the proverbial bud.
Now if I could just convince myself that Nutella is really whipped feces, I’d be set.
Enjoy your dinner now, ya hear : ).
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Go With God.
I’ve never been sure of whether or not God exists. When in a crisis however, I do find myself praying. I had so much anxiety about midterms that I prayed.
Maybe God does exist, because it seems my prayers were answered. Maybe I studied enough to get those grades and it had nothing to do with God. I suppose I’m more of a scientist when it comes to the concept of faith and want someone to show me some sort of empirical evidence that there is in fact a God. On the other hand, my life has been pretty good, and if nothing else, I suppose I do believe that there is some sort of energy in the universe that binds all matter on this Earth together. I believe in interconnectedness.
Why so “philosophical”?
Well, yesterday we went to the Seven Sisters. No, they aren’t a bunch of blind old ladies professing to be oracles. They are a group of waterfalls – seven of them in succession. You have to hike to the base of them then proceed barefoot through some woods straight uphill. Imagine me calf deep in pure mud (not the kind you’d find at the Golden Door my friends….), grasping for brambles on a steep incline to try and gain some traction and my butt and most of the rest of me slicked down with the non mineral mud bath kind of mud.
Pretty, eh?
At any rate, most of you also know that I’m always up for an adventure and enjoy things that I guess you could say are a bit “risky” or have a tendency to release adrenaline in a girl. Of ALL the people to decide – AFTER getting to the top – that I really needed to excuse myself and go back down that heinous trail through the mud instead of jump through paradise (let me tell you …it was absolutely STUNNING), it was me.
But, my reasons for not jumping had little to do with what I imagine my friends think that it did. It’s so strange. I wish I could explain it to them but in doing so, I feel like I’d be betraying a trust. So, I silently nodded when I heard, “It’s okay to be afraid of heights”, etc…it was sweet. I really did appreciate how encouraging they were in trying to get me to jump and telling me how fun it was and that I’d be okay.
I didn’t jump for someone else. Love is a powerful thing, and so is faith.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Please Pet The Building.
Before I left home for Grenada, I had to have a visit with my Internist to complete the health forms required by SGU. During my physical, she felt the need to reminisce about her days in medical school and how horribly it all started off.
She hated it. But, after calling her father and getting the response, “Well, you can’t come home!” and her boyfriend, “I’m not going to marry you” (N.B. for you generation Z people: In her heyday, living together meant that you were married and at that point she had no means to live on her own).
Realizing that she had no secretarial skills or other marketable traits, she called home again for one last plea. This time, the reply came, “Try petting the building. Everyday. Just pet it.”
And so she did.
Every. Day.
Then she picked 5 girls that she decided she would become friends with since being friendless was definitely contributing to her sense of misery. Being the good student, she studied how to approach each one and in a short time, had her 5 pre-selected friends.
Eventually, she grew content with her routine of petting the building, sitting in lecture for 8 hours, studying for 10 hours or so immediately following the 8 hours of lectures, and occasionally interjecting a conversation with one or several of her 5 friends.
Why am I telling you this story now?
Because I think I need to pet the building.
She hated it. But, after calling her father and getting the response, “Well, you can’t come home!” and her boyfriend, “I’m not going to marry you” (N.B. for you generation Z people: In her heyday, living together meant that you were married and at that point she had no means to live on her own).
Realizing that she had no secretarial skills or other marketable traits, she called home again for one last plea. This time, the reply came, “Try petting the building. Everyday. Just pet it.”
And so she did.
Every. Day.
Then she picked 5 girls that she decided she would become friends with since being friendless was definitely contributing to her sense of misery. Being the good student, she studied how to approach each one and in a short time, had her 5 pre-selected friends.
Eventually, she grew content with her routine of petting the building, sitting in lecture for 8 hours, studying for 10 hours or so immediately following the 8 hours of lectures, and occasionally interjecting a conversation with one or several of her 5 friends.
Why am I telling you this story now?
Because I think I need to pet the building.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
The Anatomical Snuff Box
….is a hollow visible on the radial side of the dorsum of the wrist when the thumb is extended fully.
Basically, people used to put their tobacco there prior to inhaling it. It was the “ladylike” way to enjoy one of life’s most infamous addictions.
Fun times in anatomy.
On a not so fun note, I've been having a lot of trouble sleeping for the past two weeks, up until Sunday night which led to some extreme crankiness on my part.
I have the great misfortune of being an incredibly light sleeper. This translates into the issue of waking up at every slight movement or sound that my roommate or anyone in the hallway might make. Somehow, up until recently it seemed tolerable. But then, somewhere along the line, it got out of hand. I really have no idea what the threshold was for me.
The solution?
Food coma. Pure, blissful, caloric enjoyment pre-bedtime, preceded by a heavier than normal dinner …Enter: Butter, melted cheese, and extra olive oil. The follow up approximately half an hour before I want to sleep involves a belated dessert/snack. For example, last night I polished off the remainder of my Haagen Daz supply and washed it down with hot chocolate made with heated whole milk instead of just hot water - or skim milk for that matter.
K.O. deemed a success.
I did still wake up when my roommate came back from a late night at Taylor Hall, but the difference was – it didn’t keep me up more than a short while.
So, I might be a bit heavier in the coming weeks, but I’ll be a whole lot happier.
Speaking of happy (insert sarcastic grin)……
Midterms are next week.
I’m doing my best to remain calm by imagining my favorite yoga instructor saying the words "let" & "go"- that's "let" on the inhale and "go" on the exhale, in case you were wondering. Although, somehow I missed the memo about how I had to remember not to forget about Biochem : ).
Luckily I found it before the midterm, eh?
Yup. Lucky. That pretty much sums it up.
On that note, I’m off to study the composition of my new favorite word: umami.
Sorry sartorius, you are temporarily slighted.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Le Choix Multiple
The downside of an expensive private school education over the years, and a major during my undergraduate years, although at a public University, that involved writing – no bubbles to be filled in, no eeny, meeny, miny or mo, more like….say what you know, try not to b.s. too much and if you’re articulate about it with a well constructed argument, there’s you’re “A”. Let’s not even get in to the fact that I went to Tisch for graduate school….
Enter- life at St. G.: EVERYTHING is multiple choice. You’d think – wow, Simrun, that’s GREAT, right? I mean, all the correct answers are sitting right in front of you.
Nope.
I think I get overwhelmed at the possibilities or that I let them put ideas into my head that weren’t there before. Instead of staring at a blank page eagerly awaiting my prose, I’m looking at options that were intentionally put there to confuse me. On occasion, they seem like clever suggestions. Then, I have to pause – which I hate doing – that whole slowing down thing is excruciating for me. I start to hear the Jeopardy theme song play in my head as I toy with the end of my pencil.
Ultimately, I did fine on the Biochemistry quiz and in Anatomy, but what kills me is that it would have been PHENOMENAL if I didn’t act like a kid in a candy store when I see answer choices of all varieties sitting in front of me just itching for the honor of being bubbled in by yours truly…..
By Thursday night I was incoherent and discovered that by 8:15 PM I literally couldn’t put a sentence together properly. So, like any sane person, I marched back to my dorm room, plopped myself in front of my laptop, and started watching Ugly Betty episodes on Megastic like a champ (yeah, in case you were wondering, that is what I was actually doing instead of going out with my friends and drinking like a normal post-exam student).
Was still pretty tired on Friday, since I didn’t actually get all that much sleep between my Ugly Betty marathon and the gym in the AM. I did, however, still manage to make it to Fish Friday in Goyave for a pretty awesome dinner experience.
Fish Friday is like a street food fair with almost nothing but seafood and fried goodness. A friend introduced me to one of the most deadly desert combinations I’ve stumbled upon to date: Nutmeg ice cream coupled with a fresh, hot, piece of fried bread. It’s like eating a warm doughnut with unbelievably creamy and delicious cold, nutmeg flavored perfection. I also splurged on lobster, which I’m glad I tried, but to be honest, it wasn’t all that grand. The coconut shrimp, however, is perfection.
I’ll now leave you with that thought, since I’ve just made myself hungry again…..
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Monday, February 16, 2009
One down, hundreds more to go....
I had the most glorious dream last night. I lived in a sprawling (although somewhat dilapidated) apartment. It was like the rooms just never ended – one after the other with no particular order and it was MINE ALL MINE! Muahahahahahaa……
Then, I woke up.
I saw the shoe box.
My eyes landed on my still slumbering roomie.
Okay, it’s not that bad.
In the real world, I had my first exam at SGU on Thursday in Abnormal Psychology. For the record it went beyond swimmingly. On the other hand….it was Ab psych – not quite the same as Biochemistry. That comes in a nice little package on Thursday morning, preceded by Anatomy Wednesday evening, followed by a lifetime of exams to come.
In the most random moments, I find myself having flashbacks of my “old life” in the biz. This may be partially brought about by the fact that it’s Fashion Week in New York, and since I feel pretty disconnected from the world these days, I find myself visiting the NY Times website far more frequently than usual. There was a pretty stellar video interview today with Michale Kors.
Sigh.
I wonder if any of the people I used to work with would even recognize me anymore if they saw me walking down the street. Then again, who cares?
I’m off to learn about muscles. . . . .
Then, I woke up.
I saw the shoe box.
My eyes landed on my still slumbering roomie.
Okay, it’s not that bad.
In the real world, I had my first exam at SGU on Thursday in Abnormal Psychology. For the record it went beyond swimmingly. On the other hand….it was Ab psych – not quite the same as Biochemistry. That comes in a nice little package on Thursday morning, preceded by Anatomy Wednesday evening, followed by a lifetime of exams to come.
In the most random moments, I find myself having flashbacks of my “old life” in the biz. This may be partially brought about by the fact that it’s Fashion Week in New York, and since I feel pretty disconnected from the world these days, I find myself visiting the NY Times website far more frequently than usual. There was a pretty stellar video interview today with Michale Kors.
Sigh.
I wonder if any of the people I used to work with would even recognize me anymore if they saw me walking down the street. Then again, who cares?
I’m off to learn about muscles. . . . .
Monday, February 9, 2009
Invisible Elephants
The beginnings of that isolated, “I’m on a semi-remote island” line of thinking have begun. Rationally, you know that they’re coming from the moment you arrive, but then when they actually do enter your brain, they are disturbingly comfortable there.
It’s not like there aren’t plenty of other people around – all of whom, mind you – are in the same position. But, it’s not as if we sit around and talk about it (perhaps we should be) or maybe it’s the elephant in the proverbial room situation. No one wants to admit that they are fraying first.
I’m not sure actually.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m incredibly busy. My whole day is scheduled hour by hour starting at 5:30 AM when I wake up and go work out. Seriously.
It’s these nanosecond intervals during the day when I pause that I realize……there’s no TV, no itunes, no downloadable entertainment of any kind, no Peet’s coffee, no car, supplies of various sorts are lacking at random, things don’t work and the repair person may or may not come by before the end of the term, I live in a shoebox with one other person, I’m surrounded by water, and I may not make it out of Foundations to Medicine and in to term 1 med.
There!
There’s an elephant and I think it’s pink.
It’s not like there aren’t plenty of other people around – all of whom, mind you – are in the same position. But, it’s not as if we sit around and talk about it (perhaps we should be) or maybe it’s the elephant in the proverbial room situation. No one wants to admit that they are fraying first.
I’m not sure actually.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m incredibly busy. My whole day is scheduled hour by hour starting at 5:30 AM when I wake up and go work out. Seriously.
It’s these nanosecond intervals during the day when I pause that I realize……there’s no TV, no itunes, no downloadable entertainment of any kind, no Peet’s coffee, no car, supplies of various sorts are lacking at random, things don’t work and the repair person may or may not come by before the end of the term, I live in a shoebox with one other person, I’m surrounded by water, and I may not make it out of Foundations to Medicine and in to term 1 med.
There!
There’s an elephant and I think it’s pink.
Friday, February 6, 2009
Ugh
I know I said I had, “nothing to complain about” earlier this week, but I’ve changed my mind. I DO have something to complain about. Or maybe, the heavens are mocking me for eating out two nights in a row when I could have easily made myself dinner. Instead, I ate at the local coffee shop- Mocha Jumby. Last night I ordered the cheeseburger.
Big mistake. HUGE.
I spent the night vomiting, breaking out in sweats, and having diarrhea alongside the vomiting. Awesome. Did wonders for my figure though (I hope you can read the dripping sarcasm there).
I just don’t understand why I seem to have such issues with the food on this island. So, now that I’m still tired, weak, and a tad nauseous I get to go listen to a lecture in a German accent (totally adorable btw although as I mentioned contributes more than a tad to ear strain in my old age) about ECG’s and the lovely system of pumps and pipes that is our heart and it’s components. Hopefully, I don’t vomit or otherwise embarrass myself in front of aforementioned adorable Swiss German professor (I actually don’t know if he’s Swiss for sure, but in my head he is from the German Alps, and has his own flock of goats. This is supported by the fact that he is prof. from the Vet school, not the med school)
On the upside – It’s Friday! Not sure quite what that means for me yet, other than a vague memory that that’s supposed to make people happy.
Observe. Happy face has been dawned.
Bottoms up.
Big mistake. HUGE.
I spent the night vomiting, breaking out in sweats, and having diarrhea alongside the vomiting. Awesome. Did wonders for my figure though (I hope you can read the dripping sarcasm there).
I just don’t understand why I seem to have such issues with the food on this island. So, now that I’m still tired, weak, and a tad nauseous I get to go listen to a lecture in a German accent (totally adorable btw although as I mentioned contributes more than a tad to ear strain in my old age) about ECG’s and the lovely system of pumps and pipes that is our heart and it’s components. Hopefully, I don’t vomit or otherwise embarrass myself in front of aforementioned adorable Swiss German professor (I actually don’t know if he’s Swiss for sure, but in my head he is from the German Alps, and has his own flock of goats. This is supported by the fact that he is prof. from the Vet school, not the med school)
On the upside – It’s Friday! Not sure quite what that means for me yet, other than a vague memory that that’s supposed to make people happy.
Observe. Happy face has been dawned.
Bottoms up.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
It's Another Beautiful Day In Zamunda!
For some reason, I could not get that line from the movie Coming To America out of my head this morning. I looked out the window after my workout and it was pouring. Then I started laughing to myself as I heard Arsenio Hall’s voice in my head saying to Eddie Murphy, “Good morning your highness - it’s another beautiful day in Zamunda!” I guess I was laughing at my own absurdity, because I have no reason to complain.
I had lunch with a truly awesome second termer yesterday who has been unbelievably supportive of all the island newcomers. It’s incredible that in medical school, people still find time to go out of their way for you. Afore mentioned second termer writes a pretty terrific blog as well. Check it out.
My watch is “stuck” in military time. I have no idea how it got there or how to get it out. But then I have to smile, because it suits the boot camp metaphor of my current situation beautifully. I’m getting used to subtracting twelve between the hours of 1:00 PM and midnight. Great for the mental math skills, which as many of you know are HORRENDSOULY lacking (small reflection of that issue in my MCAT Physical sciences score, but I guess that’s old news). Let me just add before moving on however, that I think it’s absurd that all along in your pre-med education you can use a high tech calculator that can even manipulate the equation for you so you can skip out on the algebra of it, but when it comes time for the MCAT it’s cruelly ripped from your bosom.
Okay, done with the MCAT angst session. Repeat after me: “I love the Caribbean. I love the Caribbean. I love the Caribbean……”
Excellent.
Now, back to biochem. Thanks for tuning in to our commercial break.
‘till next time campers…..
I had lunch with a truly awesome second termer yesterday who has been unbelievably supportive of all the island newcomers. It’s incredible that in medical school, people still find time to go out of their way for you. Afore mentioned second termer writes a pretty terrific blog as well. Check it out.
My watch is “stuck” in military time. I have no idea how it got there or how to get it out. But then I have to smile, because it suits the boot camp metaphor of my current situation beautifully. I’m getting used to subtracting twelve between the hours of 1:00 PM and midnight. Great for the mental math skills, which as many of you know are HORRENDSOULY lacking (small reflection of that issue in my MCAT Physical sciences score, but I guess that’s old news). Let me just add before moving on however, that I think it’s absurd that all along in your pre-med education you can use a high tech calculator that can even manipulate the equation for you so you can skip out on the algebra of it, but when it comes time for the MCAT it’s cruelly ripped from your bosom.
Okay, done with the MCAT angst session. Repeat after me: “I love the Caribbean. I love the Caribbean. I love the Caribbean……”
Excellent.
Now, back to biochem. Thanks for tuning in to our commercial break.
‘till next time campers…..
Thursday, January 29, 2009
The First Two Weeks...more or less
Sooooo, I’m almost done with the second week of classes – it’s FLYING by. I guess that’s what happens when every waking moment is spent in class, reading, eating, showering, sleeping, or exercising, with a rinse repeat on that for each 24-hour cycle.
Am I overdoing it?
Dunno.
Will keep you posted on that after exams round one in March. In spite of a few hiccups here and there I’d say the education here is pretty good. One of the difficult aspects that I didn’t anticipate at all is adjusting to different accents and voices throughout the day. My Mon, Wed, Fri morning physiology professor is American, but the tone of his voice is incredibly low and even the microphone doesn’t compensate enough in volume. So, I find myself straining to hear in spite of sitting in the front row (yup, I’m one of THOSE people). My current biochem professor has a Kenyan accent which, while I love the way it sounds, I am finding hard to follow. Then there’s the anatomy professor with a Trinidadian accent, and a few with Indian accents (no problemo there), and finally a few other Americans that I can follow with no trouble. Frustrating? Kinda. But, it definitely keeps it interesting and serves as a constant reminder that I’m not in Kansas anymore. At least Toto likes it here : ).
My sense of time feels a bit warped and concurrently my sense of friendships – in a good way, I think. We spend so much time with each other and it’s an intense situation on many levels. I feel like I’ve been here with these people for at least a year already. How is it possible that it’s only been a few weeks? It’s hard to believe. On the other hand, this could go very wrong very quickly. I worry that maybe things are too intense with respect to friends and personal stuff and that at some point I might just lose it since I am someone who is used to having LOTS of personal space and privacy. I guess we’ll see but I do hope that I’m wrong and it stays as good as it is if not better.
I’ve been pretty good about getting up early before class and fitting in time for the gym and on some days even some reading before class. The last two mornings have been amazing. Went behind Bourne Lecture Hall before class to read on one of the tables facing the ocean and saw an enormous rainbow both days. The second time the rainbow seemed to end right on top of an absolutely gorgeous yacht. I couldn’t help thinking what a nice jackpot that would make.
I’ll leave you all with that thought……
Am I overdoing it?
Dunno.
Will keep you posted on that after exams round one in March. In spite of a few hiccups here and there I’d say the education here is pretty good. One of the difficult aspects that I didn’t anticipate at all is adjusting to different accents and voices throughout the day. My Mon, Wed, Fri morning physiology professor is American, but the tone of his voice is incredibly low and even the microphone doesn’t compensate enough in volume. So, I find myself straining to hear in spite of sitting in the front row (yup, I’m one of THOSE people). My current biochem professor has a Kenyan accent which, while I love the way it sounds, I am finding hard to follow. Then there’s the anatomy professor with a Trinidadian accent, and a few with Indian accents (no problemo there), and finally a few other Americans that I can follow with no trouble. Frustrating? Kinda. But, it definitely keeps it interesting and serves as a constant reminder that I’m not in Kansas anymore. At least Toto likes it here : ).
My sense of time feels a bit warped and concurrently my sense of friendships – in a good way, I think. We spend so much time with each other and it’s an intense situation on many levels. I feel like I’ve been here with these people for at least a year already. How is it possible that it’s only been a few weeks? It’s hard to believe. On the other hand, this could go very wrong very quickly. I worry that maybe things are too intense with respect to friends and personal stuff and that at some point I might just lose it since I am someone who is used to having LOTS of personal space and privacy. I guess we’ll see but I do hope that I’m wrong and it stays as good as it is if not better.
I’ve been pretty good about getting up early before class and fitting in time for the gym and on some days even some reading before class. The last two mornings have been amazing. Went behind Bourne Lecture Hall before class to read on one of the tables facing the ocean and saw an enormous rainbow both days. The second time the rainbow seemed to end right on top of an absolutely gorgeous yacht. I couldn’t help thinking what a nice jackpot that would make.
I’ll leave you all with that thought……
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
I've Been Orientated.
Classes started yesterday, marking the official end of orientation week. Below are the highlights in digest format…..
Lessons Learned During Orientation Lectures:
“B” Does not equal MD.
Stressed out people do stupid things.
A few examples of aforementioned “Stupid things” can include: getting drunk the night before an exam, not sleeping, maintaining a poor diet, or exhibiting any signs of your typical med/pre-med diseases. These pathologies can include any of the following:
Negative Attituditis, Taintmyfaultitis, Social Prioritization Syndrome, Dietitis, Machoitistarzanitis…..,
Getting Around On The Island
Assuming you don’t have a car, which most likely you don’t if you are a first term or (as in my case) a pre-first term student, you have a few options:
SGU Buses: These are provided by the school for free and can take you quite efficiently to any of the main drags within a few miles of school. You need to show your student ID to get back onto campus on one of the buses (“security” gives it a visual check from outside the bus as you hold up your ID card before the bus is allowed through the gate), but they don’t seem to check it when you get on the bus at any point. When you want the bus to stop, you simply reach up (or ask the person next to you to do it) to a button above the window that makes a beeping sound. Of course, you have to do this at least a few hundred yards from the stop – ideally. Which means, you have to know your stop is coming. Hard to do when you don’t know where you are going yet and what it looks like: ).
If you want to go beyond what the school offers, like into St. Georges, you have to take a local bus – also called a Reggae Bus. This costs about $1 US each way. You can easily get off an SGU bus at one of two places and transfer to a Reggae bus. I did this with 4 others that are rapidly becoming good friends on Friday in order to go to the fish market in St. Georges.
The Fish Market/St. Georges
It was perfect. Fresh fish caught that day for incredibly cheap prices. I spent US $3/lb for Moonfish/Opah and the same for some Mahi Mahi which they also clean & gut for you. The groceries in town are also exponentially cheaper than at the IGA Grocery Store in Grand Anse where most of us are forced to shop for the sake of convenience. I am sure they’d be out of business if there were no students here. In their favor however, they do have a wide variety of options even if they do charge a few appendages for them. Capers or Ben & Jerry's anyone?
Food.
Hmmm, yeah. As, I mentioned food is incredibly expensive here unless you are able to go to places like the fish market and have time to cook it regularly. There are several options for Indian food – none of which have exactly rocked my world. For example, Kwality Indian Restaurant which is very close to campus was well…not so “quality”. Suffice it to say that it resulted in a minor GI problem. At least I only spent about US $8 for diarrhea. Could’ve been worse, eh?
Activities
The school takes us on various mini adventures during orientation week. I was able to make the Grand Etang Rainforest trip which was nice, except we didn’t actually get to do any hiking in it. Instead, we got to watch an all too domesticated monkey jump on people’s heads for photo ops by being lured in by a banana. Worked every time until the monkey got full.
Interestingly enough, it was raining in the rain forest. Actually, it was pouring.
On Friday night I experienced the full force of Caribbean rum. Note to self – do not consume. At the same time, that was quite educational and I seem to have gotten in touch with my inner lovesick child. Not fun.
Did I mention the beach is INCREDIBLE. No? Well, it's INCREDIBLE.
The Single Most Awesome Act I have Witnessed To Date
I’ve met some really great people already. My roommate is not only smart, but fun to hang out with and full of compassion. However, she did have an unfortunate experience while on the way back from Grand Etang on the bus. Her misfortune culminated in my witnessing an act that I was extremely impressed by.
Let me explain.
The road to Grand Etang is not for the faint of heart or the motion sick. It’s a curvaceous, narrow road, takes an hour to get there, is fraught with potholes, and is loud (very loud music & plenty of talking going on). This did not bode well for Bhumika, who apparently gets motion sick but was too polite to complain about it as she sat in the back with us – away from the window. She vomited. On herself and one of our other friends who happened to be on her right. I was sitting to that person’s right, by the window. The person sitting to her left didn’t even flinch. He realized that she would probably want to wipe it off and that she didn’t have anything that would be suitable. He pulled out his pristine Eddie Bauer jacket and handed it to her. No hesitation. She wiped it up – looking sheepish and profusely apologizing.
I think I’m in the right place and with the right people.
You know there are a lot of Indians around when….
You are one of three girls named Simrun in your dorm alone.
Favorite quote by my roomie so far (for the record, this was NOT addressed to moi : ) ):
“When God was giving away common sense where were you?”
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
The Journey
It’s 4:15 AM and there’s already a queue in the household for tea. Mom’s cup made it to the warmer first (only room for one) so mine and Dad’s sat patiently by its side. When I got mine, I realized that it’s the last cup I will have made by my father for too many months. It’s a ritual in our household… making tea that is. Every aspect is carefully planned and designed to enhance the taste.
It’s 5:53 AM - Mom & I have just arrived at LAX. I find a porter to carry my ridiculous load: 2 boxes, each weighing 50 lbs, 2 suitcases weighing 50 lbs, one carryon suitcase weighing about 25 lbs, and one backpack…weight unknown. Yes, I paid for the extra baggage, but it turned out to be about the same as shipping it so I figured why not take it with me instead of waiting for it indefinitely.
6:20 AM – The search for coffee begins. I’m a tea & coffee junky. Although, it’s not really the caffeine that I’m after. It’s the psychological comfort that a hot beverage can offer. It seems my only option is one of two Starbucks. I go for the one that is not alongside the Burger King. The couple in front of me in line is too much for me to handle at this hour. They are all over each other. It’s not just that though. There is something about this girl that my overly judgemental self is irritated by. She’s wearing a faux fir jacket, black hot pants, carrying a Juicy Couture handbag that announces itself in an incredibly loud manner, and can’t seem to stop feeling up her boyfriend at this ungodly hour before I’ve had my coffee.
There. Done venting. And yes, I know that I’ve just outed myself as a complete snob.
6:50 AM. Consuming afore mentioned coffee along with a bit of oatmeal outside the gate. Two young guys that look like recent college grads approach in search of seats. They opt for the two next to me. One of them is holding a planner that reads, “St. George’s University” on it. What are the odds, I wondered. Apparently pretty high, because it turns out there are at least 7 others on this flight.
We introduce ourselves. The girl sitting behind and a few seats over is also starting first term. As we chat, one of the boys opens his carry on. He looks up at me and smiles, “I was told to pack enough supplies to last me a week.”
“I know, me too.”
The first things I see are: Kit Kats, Reece’s Peanut Butter Cups, Keebler’s Fudge Striped cookies (good taste : ) ), Rohen’s Anatomy Atlas, First Aide for the USMLE Step 1, socks, T-shirts……
It made me smile. Way to go for prioritizing the snacks.
7:35 AM: Boarding. In line, we meet several other students. The flight is completely booked.
10:56 AM: I am typing this.
12:30 PM: We land in Miami, only it’s 3:30 PM here. The plane sits on the tarmack for an extra bit waiting for a gate to open up. It takes 25 minutes for everyone in front of me to disembark. The hunt for food begins.
4:00 PM: At the gate – students, students, & more students. The announcer comes on to ask for volunteers to take a flight tomorrow offering $500, hotel stay, and meal vouchers. You’d think someone would have jumped for it. If they did, it wasn’t a student. Everyone is too concerned with getting there and getting adjusted.
In the sea of faces it was funny to recognize a few here and there from Facebook or the flight from LA and begin introducing ourselves in the non-virtual world.
5:30 PM: I’m on the plane. Next to me is another first termer and a 6th term Vet School student. They’re both really nice. The Vet student has good advice to offer.
5:45 PM: I am looking out the window watching the bags get loaded. After a while, the person loading things directly onto the mechanical belt bringing the bags into the cargo belly motions to another baggage attendant with a cartload of more bags to stop. He gives him a sort of “kill it” signal with his hands motioning them across one another. The baggage attendant gestures towards the additional baggage in a questioning manner wondering what to do with them then. The man near the belt simply shrugs.
Oh Shit.
Funny, one of those bags looks an awful lot like mine.
Or maybe not so funny.
I’ll find out in a short while.
7:31 PM – Grenada time: I’m typing this.
9:35 PM- Wheels down. The captain comes on, “I’d like to extend a special welcome to all of our first term students.”
A rambunctious crowd responds with approval.
It’s 5:53 AM - Mom & I have just arrived at LAX. I find a porter to carry my ridiculous load: 2 boxes, each weighing 50 lbs, 2 suitcases weighing 50 lbs, one carryon suitcase weighing about 25 lbs, and one backpack…weight unknown. Yes, I paid for the extra baggage, but it turned out to be about the same as shipping it so I figured why not take it with me instead of waiting for it indefinitely.
6:20 AM – The search for coffee begins. I’m a tea & coffee junky. Although, it’s not really the caffeine that I’m after. It’s the psychological comfort that a hot beverage can offer. It seems my only option is one of two Starbucks. I go for the one that is not alongside the Burger King. The couple in front of me in line is too much for me to handle at this hour. They are all over each other. It’s not just that though. There is something about this girl that my overly judgemental self is irritated by. She’s wearing a faux fir jacket, black hot pants, carrying a Juicy Couture handbag that announces itself in an incredibly loud manner, and can’t seem to stop feeling up her boyfriend at this ungodly hour before I’ve had my coffee.
There. Done venting. And yes, I know that I’ve just outed myself as a complete snob.
6:50 AM. Consuming afore mentioned coffee along with a bit of oatmeal outside the gate. Two young guys that look like recent college grads approach in search of seats. They opt for the two next to me. One of them is holding a planner that reads, “St. George’s University” on it. What are the odds, I wondered. Apparently pretty high, because it turns out there are at least 7 others on this flight.
We introduce ourselves. The girl sitting behind and a few seats over is also starting first term. As we chat, one of the boys opens his carry on. He looks up at me and smiles, “I was told to pack enough supplies to last me a week.”
“I know, me too.”
The first things I see are: Kit Kats, Reece’s Peanut Butter Cups, Keebler’s Fudge Striped cookies (good taste : ) ), Rohen’s Anatomy Atlas, First Aide for the USMLE Step 1, socks, T-shirts……
It made me smile. Way to go for prioritizing the snacks.
7:35 AM: Boarding. In line, we meet several other students. The flight is completely booked.
10:56 AM: I am typing this.
12:30 PM: We land in Miami, only it’s 3:30 PM here. The plane sits on the tarmack for an extra bit waiting for a gate to open up. It takes 25 minutes for everyone in front of me to disembark. The hunt for food begins.
4:00 PM: At the gate – students, students, & more students. The announcer comes on to ask for volunteers to take a flight tomorrow offering $500, hotel stay, and meal vouchers. You’d think someone would have jumped for it. If they did, it wasn’t a student. Everyone is too concerned with getting there and getting adjusted.
In the sea of faces it was funny to recognize a few here and there from Facebook or the flight from LA and begin introducing ourselves in the non-virtual world.
5:30 PM: I’m on the plane. Next to me is another first termer and a 6th term Vet School student. They’re both really nice. The Vet student has good advice to offer.
5:45 PM: I am looking out the window watching the bags get loaded. After a while, the person loading things directly onto the mechanical belt bringing the bags into the cargo belly motions to another baggage attendant with a cartload of more bags to stop. He gives him a sort of “kill it” signal with his hands motioning them across one another. The baggage attendant gestures towards the additional baggage in a questioning manner wondering what to do with them then. The man near the belt simply shrugs.
Oh Shit.
Funny, one of those bags looks an awful lot like mine.
Or maybe not so funny.
I’ll find out in a short while.
7:31 PM – Grenada time: I’m typing this.
9:35 PM- Wheels down. The captain comes on, “I’d like to extend a special welcome to all of our first term students.”
A rambunctious crowd responds with approval.
Friday, January 9, 2009
The Funeral
The sun was setting on a pithy winter day turned evening and as the hues of the sky deepened to orange, they matched the flames that licked his father’s coffin. Standing outside the crematorium glancing up at the chimney, you could see the heat and a few stray embers heading towards the almighty. “There he goes….” He said.
While no one was looking....
Maybe it was the music that was playing, maybe it was the conversation I had just had with my brother combined with the mild sadness I had begun to feel about leaving for Grenada in a few days, but a tear began to carve a path down each cheek as I stood alone in the kitchen.
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