AM Pre-lecture Read-Through

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.

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 : ).

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.

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.

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.