Wow, you really *can* go home again.
I managed to drag my lazy ass out of bed in time for my last physiology small group today (at 3 PM), and had just gotten to the third floor of the library and was standing up talking to Dave.
Then I felt a rumbling...
"Nah," I thought. "They don't get earthquakes here. Must be a high wind."
More rumbling. Students starting to look concerned. One fellow obviously also from California scoffing "Oh calm down, it's like a 2.2" and my response "That's gotta be up near a 3."
(Earthquakes in California are a form of offtrack betting. Everyone does it.)
Apparently, they get earthquakes here. And apparently, the buildings can at least handle the little ones, which is nice to know. Through the grapevine, apparently Martinique got hit by a pretty significant (in the 7s) earthquake, so we got the ripple effect, thus giving students from all over the world a little taste of it.
You know... living on an island that was formed by a volcano, which is 2 miles south of the "hurricane belt", and off a country that is currently fairly politically unstable, earthquake would probably not have been on my top 10 potential phenomena I'd experience in Grenada.
To everyone's credit, no one ran around screaming "We're all gonna die!", which, when I moved to North Carolina as a teenager, everyone seemed to think is what *should* happen during an earthquake... to which my response was "Don't you guys have hurricanes?"
I've also now seen a monkey! A real one!!! Dave's neighbor apparently has one as a pet, and he told me about seeing it, and while walking to his place today, lo and behold, there was a guy across the street with a mona monkey on his balcony!
So monkeys and earthquakes. Unfortunately, both still pale in comparison to impending finals!
Nov 29, 2007
Carbon Monoxide is good for you
And I can't wait for the flood of lawsuits that comes from that remark.
I'm trying to cram in a lungful of respiratory physiology because thanks to studying for immunology, I got woefully behind in the classes that can actually cause me to decel in favor of focusing attention on that one that can't. D'oh.
Apparently, when one wants to measure diffusion capacity in the lungs, in order to do it using oxygen, you'd have to stick someone's granny on a treadmill at 12,000 feet, when she ostensibly came in complaining of breathing difficulty, so instead you use carbon monoxide. Which is much healthier. It also causes students to quickly try and scribble down as much hardcore college-level math/applied physics as possible.
But it all worked out in the end because ha ha, the point of the nineteen pages of differential calculus was to illustrate that measuring diffusion has two different parts, a point I had about 15 minutes before my postcentral gyrus shot itself. Thanks for that.
Musical update: My neighbors with the obnoxious mutt that runs across the ceiling all day while someone with ADHD tosses a golf ball to it are currently listening to "My Immortal" by Evanescence. Sigh. At least it's a song I like.
On a completely unrelated note, the earplugs they sell at the bookstore are really good. Fairly comfortable. Ask me how I know that. Then ask me how I know what musical tastes my neighbors have.
I'm trying to cram in a lungful of respiratory physiology because thanks to studying for immunology, I got woefully behind in the classes that can actually cause me to decel in favor of focusing attention on that one that can't. D'oh.
Apparently, when one wants to measure diffusion capacity in the lungs, in order to do it using oxygen, you'd have to stick someone's granny on a treadmill at 12,000 feet, when she ostensibly came in complaining of breathing difficulty, so instead you use carbon monoxide. Which is much healthier. It also causes students to quickly try and scribble down as much hardcore college-level math/applied physics as possible.
But it all worked out in the end because ha ha, the point of the nineteen pages of differential calculus was to illustrate that measuring diffusion has two different parts, a point I had about 15 minutes before my postcentral gyrus shot itself. Thanks for that.
Musical update: My neighbors with the obnoxious mutt that runs across the ceiling all day while someone with ADHD tosses a golf ball to it are currently listening to "My Immortal" by Evanescence. Sigh. At least it's a song I like.
On a completely unrelated note, the earplugs they sell at the bookstore are really good. Fairly comfortable. Ask me how I know that. Then ask me how I know what musical tastes my neighbors have.
Nov 27, 2007
I've got sambuca on my C3R
And now, thanks to the immuno final, I know what one of those is!
So you may be wondering how the immuno exam went. Me too! No answers or grades yet.
Before the exam, I felt pretty good and pretty prepared. I did a bunch of questions, was fairly confident in the answers, and the rest of it.
Exam did NOT feel good though, and apparently didn't to a whole lot of the class since the vast majority were there at the end of it. It was really difficult and took a lot of stuff I did know, and turned it on its head. There were also a LOT of questions where I could only narrow it down to 2, and then it's a 50/50 crapshoot.
On the other hand, the instructor did completely bail me out during the exam, and not only helped my concentration markedly, but kept me from being hauled off to jail for the brutal murder of two proctors.
You see... I'm easily distracted/irritated (really? Naw), and a little OCD anyway, which tends to be increased at exam time. An example is that I was bummed because I got "Exam D", which I hate, since I far prefer "Exam A" or even "Exam B". Yeah, I'm weird that way.
So I sit down in the exam in the far right corner of Bell, near the door... exam starts and I jam earplugs in, which by the way, is a fantastic thing to do. Highly recommend it.
The proctor for our area, at first, seemed content to pretty much stand directly behind my right shoulder, occasionally moving part of himself in our out of my peripheral vision.
FREAKING GROWL. Do NOT stand over my shoulder for long periods of time. It activates my punching reflex. I don't like it on a subway and I certainly don't like it when I'm trying to concentrate. There was an empty desk next to me, and I'm not cheating or I'd get better grades. Go away.
But this is also a somewhat (though hardly unusual) personal tic. So I resigned to ignore it and tried to focus my attention away from my right temporal visual field (thank you, neuro), wish for hemianopia, and try to focus.
At which point Proctor1 is joined by Proctor2, since 2 apparently decided 1 wasn't being annoying enough by himself. More wandering in and out of my peripheral vision... and I don't mean walking back and forth... I mean hovering right at the outskirts of my vision and moving just often enough to constantly divert my eyes in that direction.
And then they started whispering/chatting. Like two feet from me.
Really? I mean... really? We can't have a watch on our desks, but two people presumably getting paid for the sole purpose of shutting up for two hours and babysitting adults just can't swing it? Plus, if two of the proctors are tying themselves up with each other, doesn't that mean any of the students in their monitoring zones can then pull out "The Idiot's Guide to Cheating on Immunology Exams" with impunity?
But at this point, the prof rushes up, leans in, and I couldn't overhear it, but I suspect it wasn't nice, and they separated the gab session and Proctor1 had to resign himself to merely perching on my right shoulder again.
I was honestly already grateful at this stage. But then... student bathroom time, which meant more whispering, and the opening and the closing of the door outside next to me, and I'm just trying to focus on the exam without a killing spree and the prof comes up, genuinely sympathetic and says "Would you like to move seats?"
To which my answer was something like "Oh my god, YES." So she took me to the front row toward the middle, which, with earplugs in, was dead silent, and no one could stand over my shoulder, plus the proctors up front only walked purposefully back and forth occasionally through my central vision, which for some reason, doesn't distract me at all.
Then at the end of the exam after scantrons were in, she asked me if it was all right where I moved, and said that she felt so bad for me where I was. All quite genuine.
But this is an immuno exam. I'm so conflicted.
It is nice to have an instructor acknowledge that this is stressful and it is hard, and a distraction-free environment should be preserved. Things like a foot bouncing, people whispering and giggling in the AV booth (anatomy) or whatever, can kill when you're stressed, so having an instructor sympathize and change the situation is pretty good.
But I also may have completely tanked the exam simply due to the "holy crap"ocity of the questions themselves. Gah.
So what to do with your grade hanging in the air and a grim feeling that appears to be shared by a good percentage of your class? Remember the pathways:
Taking immunology exams activates depression and anxiety. Depression and anxiety activate the urge to say "screw all of this" and go out with your equally depressed anxious friends. Groups of depressed anxious friends activate the urge to drink, activating Shiraz (which was great) and sambuca, the latter of which I'd never had before, but think viscous Italian uzo. Good stuff. Hey, tonight's liquor brought to you by the letter "Z". ShiraZ and uZo. I do love the wine bar, particularly since the sambuca was free. Due to a simple error on our bill which was reversed anyway, we got to do a sambuca shot with the owner. Salud!
So you may be wondering how the immuno exam went. Me too! No answers or grades yet.
Before the exam, I felt pretty good and pretty prepared. I did a bunch of questions, was fairly confident in the answers, and the rest of it.
Exam did NOT feel good though, and apparently didn't to a whole lot of the class since the vast majority were there at the end of it. It was really difficult and took a lot of stuff I did know, and turned it on its head. There were also a LOT of questions where I could only narrow it down to 2, and then it's a 50/50 crapshoot.
On the other hand, the instructor did completely bail me out during the exam, and not only helped my concentration markedly, but kept me from being hauled off to jail for the brutal murder of two proctors.
You see... I'm easily distracted/irritated (really? Naw), and a little OCD anyway, which tends to be increased at exam time. An example is that I was bummed because I got "Exam D", which I hate, since I far prefer "Exam A" or even "Exam B". Yeah, I'm weird that way.
So I sit down in the exam in the far right corner of Bell, near the door... exam starts and I jam earplugs in, which by the way, is a fantastic thing to do. Highly recommend it.
The proctor for our area, at first, seemed content to pretty much stand directly behind my right shoulder, occasionally moving part of himself in our out of my peripheral vision.
FREAKING GROWL. Do NOT stand over my shoulder for long periods of time. It activates my punching reflex. I don't like it on a subway and I certainly don't like it when I'm trying to concentrate. There was an empty desk next to me, and I'm not cheating or I'd get better grades. Go away.
But this is also a somewhat (though hardly unusual) personal tic. So I resigned to ignore it and tried to focus my attention away from my right temporal visual field (thank you, neuro), wish for hemianopia, and try to focus.
At which point Proctor1 is joined by Proctor2, since 2 apparently decided 1 wasn't being annoying enough by himself. More wandering in and out of my peripheral vision... and I don't mean walking back and forth... I mean hovering right at the outskirts of my vision and moving just often enough to constantly divert my eyes in that direction.
And then they started whispering/chatting. Like two feet from me.
Really? I mean... really? We can't have a watch on our desks, but two people presumably getting paid for the sole purpose of shutting up for two hours and babysitting adults just can't swing it? Plus, if two of the proctors are tying themselves up with each other, doesn't that mean any of the students in their monitoring zones can then pull out "The Idiot's Guide to Cheating on Immunology Exams" with impunity?
But at this point, the prof rushes up, leans in, and I couldn't overhear it, but I suspect it wasn't nice, and they separated the gab session and Proctor1 had to resign himself to merely perching on my right shoulder again.
I was honestly already grateful at this stage. But then... student bathroom time, which meant more whispering, and the opening and the closing of the door outside next to me, and I'm just trying to focus on the exam without a killing spree and the prof comes up, genuinely sympathetic and says "Would you like to move seats?"
To which my answer was something like "Oh my god, YES." So she took me to the front row toward the middle, which, with earplugs in, was dead silent, and no one could stand over my shoulder, plus the proctors up front only walked purposefully back and forth occasionally through my central vision, which for some reason, doesn't distract me at all.
Then at the end of the exam after scantrons were in, she asked me if it was all right where I moved, and said that she felt so bad for me where I was. All quite genuine.
But this is an immuno exam. I'm so conflicted.
It is nice to have an instructor acknowledge that this is stressful and it is hard, and a distraction-free environment should be preserved. Things like a foot bouncing, people whispering and giggling in the AV booth (anatomy) or whatever, can kill when you're stressed, so having an instructor sympathize and change the situation is pretty good.
But I also may have completely tanked the exam simply due to the "holy crap"ocity of the questions themselves. Gah.
So what to do with your grade hanging in the air and a grim feeling that appears to be shared by a good percentage of your class? Remember the pathways:
Taking immunology exams activates depression and anxiety. Depression and anxiety activate the urge to say "screw all of this" and go out with your equally depressed anxious friends. Groups of depressed anxious friends activate the urge to drink, activating Shiraz (which was great) and sambuca, the latter of which I'd never had before, but think viscous Italian uzo. Good stuff. Hey, tonight's liquor brought to you by the letter "Z". ShiraZ and uZo. I do love the wine bar, particularly since the sambuca was free. Due to a simple error on our bill which was reversed anyway, we got to do a sambuca shot with the owner. Salud!
Nov 26, 2007
And End to Immuno?
Could it be?
Why yes!!!! In under 12 hours, this alphabet soup nightmare will presumably be over! All I have to do is pass, which I think I'm in a good set to do right now, though time will tell. I've been doing questions ALL day. Seriously... ALLLL Day. And I feel like my head is full, but sleep helps cement things. Right? Didn't we do something like that in neuro? No? Bueller?
And what kind of night of enjoyment do I have to look forward to in the aftermath of what I SO hope will be a victory? I have my SOAP notes for physio due Tuesday. So Monday night I get to... diagnoses a fake patient and write up a report on it using diagnostic skills I haven't learned yet because I've been ignoring physio for a week and a half to study immuno. D'oh! It's like a party... without the alcohol, friends, beach or fun.
But for now, I'm focused on the end being nigh. Oh let it be nigh... Summer with biochem was bad enough, but Christmas with immuno is a whole other kind of horror story.
Why yes!!!! In under 12 hours, this alphabet soup nightmare will presumably be over! All I have to do is pass, which I think I'm in a good set to do right now, though time will tell. I've been doing questions ALL day. Seriously... ALLLL Day. And I feel like my head is full, but sleep helps cement things. Right? Didn't we do something like that in neuro? No? Bueller?
And what kind of night of enjoyment do I have to look forward to in the aftermath of what I SO hope will be a victory? I have my SOAP notes for physio due Tuesday. So Monday night I get to... diagnoses a fake patient and write up a report on it using diagnostic skills I haven't learned yet because I've been ignoring physio for a week and a half to study immuno. D'oh! It's like a party... without the alcohol, friends, beach or fun.
But for now, I'm focused on the end being nigh. Oh let it be nigh... Summer with biochem was bad enough, but Christmas with immuno is a whole other kind of horror story.
Nov 23, 2007
I'm learning things!
The study of immunology is quite fascinating, and I've found out that I'm actually learning many things, such as:
1. Donkeys like eating tamarind (and fingers)
2. A circular saw outside makes an annoying alarm clock
3. Don't split on a pair of 10s
4. The warning symptoms for an impending psychotic episode are exactly the same as those exhibited by most students the week before exams
5. Given enough time, you will end up dressed from hat to sandals in SGU gear because you're too lazy to shop anywhere but the bookstore and your clothes fell apart in the Caribbean climate
6. Procrastination is an art form
And tonight's "facts", brought to you by the people of Old El Paso tortillas, who think the world's population is too dumb to dress itself in its freshly acquired schoolgear:
7. Chicken should not be cooked rare
8. Tortillas must be taken OUT OF THE PACKAGE before they are microwaved
9. How to fold a burrito, thanks to the diagrammatic instructions in back, for those of us who have never eaten one, never seen one made, and have never been to Taco Bell, but want to be as culturally accurate as possible while we're eating our pre-packaged, pre-made, microwaved Old El Paso tortillas.
1. Donkeys like eating tamarind (and fingers)
2. A circular saw outside makes an annoying alarm clock
3. Don't split on a pair of 10s
4. The warning symptoms for an impending psychotic episode are exactly the same as those exhibited by most students the week before exams
5. Given enough time, you will end up dressed from hat to sandals in SGU gear because you're too lazy to shop anywhere but the bookstore and your clothes fell apart in the Caribbean climate
6. Procrastination is an art form
And tonight's "facts", brought to you by the people of Old El Paso tortillas, who think the world's population is too dumb to dress itself in its freshly acquired schoolgear:
7. Chicken should not be cooked rare
8. Tortillas must be taken OUT OF THE PACKAGE before they are microwaved
9. How to fold a burrito, thanks to the diagrammatic instructions in back, for those of us who have never eaten one, never seen one made, and have never been to Taco Bell, but want to be as culturally accurate as possible while we're eating our pre-packaged, pre-made, microwaved Old El Paso tortillas.
Nov 22, 2007
I'm being hunted...
There is a mosquito in my apartment the size of a short-wing hawk. She periodically likes to pop up, fake out a "I'm gonna land on you" thing, and then once I yelp, throw my notes aside, and go after her, she disappears into some unforeseen location to stalk me again the moment I put my stuff back together.
This thing is large enough that I suspect she's already taken a fair sample from me and just really liked the taste of tea and despair. I imagine if I do ever manage to end her miserable life, it will throw up a blood spatter like I'm making mosquito torture porn (Cary Elwes, what have you done? I can never watch the Princess Bride again).
If she would just pick a spot, bite me, and then screw off to some other location to bother others, that would be fine. It can add to my other 15 bites that I got from neglecting to use DEET every time I run (I want dengue; I do; it has a funny name), but I think this one is just lurking around and nipping me periodically, causing small but numerous welts, which I dislike. What also sucks is that it's 2:30 in the morning which means I KNOW she could just slip right on over to another apartment where there would be a complacent sleeping victim just waiting to get anemia, but no. She enjoys the hunt, the thrill, the adrenaline rush. Do mosquitoes have adrenaline? Do they have alpha and beta receptors? Moving on.
Happy Puritan Imperialism Day! For those horribly offended, I didn't like Thanksgiving any more last year, so get used to it. This is one of the few holidays I don't miss, except for the fact that it marks the time when I begin enjoying Christmas decorations and stop being pissed off by them.
See, I LOVE the holiday season minus the whole gorge yourself on boring food one, and I love the materialistic trappings of Christmas. Like everyone else that has written anything about Christmas ever, I don't enjoy getting my 4th of July infringed on by it, so I resolve this by being jaded and pissy about Christmas trappings and drowning out mall music with my ipod right until the day after Thanksgiving. Then I can throw myself into them with unabashed joy without suffering the "Season Sickness" that affects so many. Though I haven't gone out on Black Friday since I discovered Amazon.com in the late 90s. A discount on children's toys just isn't sufficient for me to suffer the ruptured spleen from the elbow of a soccer mom. I need my secondary lymphoid organs to combat my mosquito-related infections.
Of course, in Grenada, Thanksgiving is in October, which makes me conflicted by this "no celebration until after Thanksgiving" standard, because starting the holiday season in late October is still annoying.
Speaking of "in Grenada", "in Grenada", I got bitten by a donkey on my evening jog.
Now granted, it was totally my fault, didn't break the skin, didn't really hurt, and I was feeding it while it was behind a fence with the help of an awesome woman that's the wife of one of the vet anatomy professors, but saying "When I went to medical school, I got bitten by a donkey" just sounds so much more hardcore. I'm *Thankful* (see, I can be festive) for not getting donkey rabies, since donkey bites are the leading cause of donkey rabies. You don't wanna know the second, but it happens a lot in Tijuana.
I've also rediscovered that few things are cuter than baby donkeys. Awwwwww.
On the donkey feeding, thanks to cool wife-of-prof, Marty, I learned that there are two types of tamarind, and the one that isn't made into suspicious-tasting candy is a really good base feed for farm animals. I mention this because it means I now know exactly one fact more about feeding donkeys than I do about immunology. A shame that the final on Monday is on the latter!
This thing is large enough that I suspect she's already taken a fair sample from me and just really liked the taste of tea and despair. I imagine if I do ever manage to end her miserable life, it will throw up a blood spatter like I'm making mosquito torture porn (Cary Elwes, what have you done? I can never watch the Princess Bride again).
If she would just pick a spot, bite me, and then screw off to some other location to bother others, that would be fine. It can add to my other 15 bites that I got from neglecting to use DEET every time I run (I want dengue; I do; it has a funny name), but I think this one is just lurking around and nipping me periodically, causing small but numerous welts, which I dislike. What also sucks is that it's 2:30 in the morning which means I KNOW she could just slip right on over to another apartment where there would be a complacent sleeping victim just waiting to get anemia, but no. She enjoys the hunt, the thrill, the adrenaline rush. Do mosquitoes have adrenaline? Do they have alpha and beta receptors? Moving on.
Happy Puritan Imperialism Day! For those horribly offended, I didn't like Thanksgiving any more last year, so get used to it. This is one of the few holidays I don't miss, except for the fact that it marks the time when I begin enjoying Christmas decorations and stop being pissed off by them.
See, I LOVE the holiday season minus the whole gorge yourself on boring food one, and I love the materialistic trappings of Christmas. Like everyone else that has written anything about Christmas ever, I don't enjoy getting my 4th of July infringed on by it, so I resolve this by being jaded and pissy about Christmas trappings and drowning out mall music with my ipod right until the day after Thanksgiving. Then I can throw myself into them with unabashed joy without suffering the "Season Sickness" that affects so many. Though I haven't gone out on Black Friday since I discovered Amazon.com in the late 90s. A discount on children's toys just isn't sufficient for me to suffer the ruptured spleen from the elbow of a soccer mom. I need my secondary lymphoid organs to combat my mosquito-related infections.
Of course, in Grenada, Thanksgiving is in October, which makes me conflicted by this "no celebration until after Thanksgiving" standard, because starting the holiday season in late October is still annoying.
Speaking of "in Grenada", "in Grenada", I got bitten by a donkey on my evening jog.
Now granted, it was totally my fault, didn't break the skin, didn't really hurt, and I was feeding it while it was behind a fence with the help of an awesome woman that's the wife of one of the vet anatomy professors, but saying "When I went to medical school, I got bitten by a donkey" just sounds so much more hardcore. I'm *Thankful* (see, I can be festive) for not getting donkey rabies, since donkey bites are the leading cause of donkey rabies. You don't wanna know the second, but it happens a lot in Tijuana.
I've also rediscovered that few things are cuter than baby donkeys. Awwwwww.
On the donkey feeding, thanks to cool wife-of-prof, Marty, I learned that there are two types of tamarind, and the one that isn't made into suspicious-tasting candy is a really good base feed for farm animals. I mention this because it means I now know exactly one fact more about feeding donkeys than I do about immunology. A shame that the final on Monday is on the latter!
Nov 18, 2007
Happy Anniversary!
It was pointed out to me that it has been a year (and a day) since I started this blog. I'd like to just take a second to reflect on the number of typos, grammatical errors, and stress outs over that time period. Ahhh, memories.
How innocent I was back then... well, sort of. How I went to Spiceland mall with a look of majestic wonder rather than the "Hey, delayed committing hari kari another day" blank expression. How I marveled at the goats being used as lawnmowers rather than contemplating smuggling one past customs because it'll save me time and money.
It also reminds me that in a little over a year, I'll be done with basic sciences and be ready to move back to cooler climates for a while, though if I do some rotations in England, I will still technically be on an island where they drive on the other side of the road. Does England have reggae buses? Does New York?
So it's back to studying for me, but I wanted to update with yet another arbitrary milestone.
How innocent I was back then... well, sort of. How I went to Spiceland mall with a look of majestic wonder rather than the "Hey, delayed committing hari kari another day" blank expression. How I marveled at the goats being used as lawnmowers rather than contemplating smuggling one past customs because it'll save me time and money.
It also reminds me that in a little over a year, I'll be done with basic sciences and be ready to move back to cooler climates for a while, though if I do some rotations in England, I will still technically be on an island where they drive on the other side of the road. Does England have reggae buses? Does New York?
So it's back to studying for me, but I wanted to update with yet another arbitrary milestone.
Nov 16, 2007
My birthday ROCKED!
Oh yes, it did.
Quickly, to the fellow student that contacted me on the insomnia post, I posted an answer under yours, so I hope that helps.
Continuing... it's been a couple weeks of birthdays here. We celebrated Ashley's for lunch at Coyaba, did Jay's 24 hour birthday bender, consisting of him jumping onstage (after invitation) with the band at Prickly Bay resort and rocking his trombone (no, seriously; he has a trombone; that's not a euphemism for anything) after lunch at La Bo, the surge party at the Victory Bar which we absolutely did NOT have to carry him home from, and so it goes.
For my birthday, let me tell you what my ideal birthday was: I wanted my parents to email me, some nice birthday emails from my friends from afar, a pleasant dinner at Aquarium with my friends here, House night, and then dive the next day.
Simple. Basic. Happy.
My birthday bitchslapped my expectations and I have awesome friends, parents, boyfriend, and cooperative marine life.
All sorts of emailed well wishes, which I greatly appreciate to you guys out there, and thank you. Got a birthday card from my mom via snail mail. Went to small group, which went well, and still was happy, but didn't really feel like it was my birthday, and that was fine.
Met up to head out to Aquarium with Nina, Ashley, David, and Jay. It's a pretty restaurant with good food that I've forgiven for contributing to my persistently troubling ankle sprain I sustained first term. Everyone was wonderful, we had a great meal, and Ashley whipped out the brownies she'd baked herself and stuck in the candles as everyone sang happy birthday.
AWWWWWWWW.
Dave had apparently been in cohorts with my mom, she'd sent him a bunch of presents for me, that he'd finished wrapping (they had to be partially open because of customs), so I could have wrapped presents on my birthday which he whipped out and presented to me at dinner.
AWWWWWWWW.
Then Dave pulled out his present to me. At first, I pretty much saw an SGU bear in surgical top and mask (it was commented that he can't be a real SGU student because he's not wearing a scrub top with shorts and flip flops, like most people in gross lab) that they sell at the bookstore that I'd said I thought was really cute and thought about getting, so I was thrilled he'd remembered that...
Until I realized that strapped to its chest; however, was an American Airlines ticket envelope containing a US dollar, 5 EC, 5 Euro, and 10 tien gulden (Netherlands Antilles). He said something to the effect of him knowing how much I like seeing new countries and getting my passport stamped (I'm a dork), so over Easter, we were gonna do four countries in four days: the US (Puerto Rico), St. Marten (Netherlands), Sint Maarten (France), and Anguilla.
So essentially, my jaw was hanging open for the rest of the meal, the check for which he picked up. Whoa.
And Jay piped up with throwing in the departure tax, since he's apparently known about this and is just that awesome (along with Nina, who's gonna teach me how to make foccacia because I'm addicted to it) at keeping secrets.
THEN it was back to my apartment for House night, which we arrived just in time for.
Woke up the next morning, still encompassed by the awesomeness of my friends and family, to go diving.
Dived the Bianca C, which I've wanted to dive since... well, before I came to the island the first time, and five minutes into the dive, the divemaster pointed up to indicate there was a giant spotted eagle ray above us. We moved toward the forward mast of the ship, which was fairly thick with barracuda, as shown:
This wreck is many degrees of awesome in and of itself, by the way, and it was also my deepest dive at max depth of 125 feet, and to scuba divers out there, yes, I did feel pretty narced. I'm apparently a cheap date.
Second dive was beautiful and involved spending half of it chasing the first sea turtle I've seen since coming to Grenada, which came close enough to me that I could touch its shell.
All in all, a birthday that was supposed to be a "I hope this day is actually less suckful than the usual day to day activity of being under constant stress" became seventeen different varieties of awesome. Thank you to all!
Quickly, to the fellow student that contacted me on the insomnia post, I posted an answer under yours, so I hope that helps.
Continuing... it's been a couple weeks of birthdays here. We celebrated Ashley's for lunch at Coyaba, did Jay's 24 hour birthday bender, consisting of him jumping onstage (after invitation) with the band at Prickly Bay resort and rocking his trombone (no, seriously; he has a trombone; that's not a euphemism for anything) after lunch at La Bo, the surge party at the Victory Bar which we absolutely did NOT have to carry him home from, and so it goes.
For my birthday, let me tell you what my ideal birthday was: I wanted my parents to email me, some nice birthday emails from my friends from afar, a pleasant dinner at Aquarium with my friends here, House night, and then dive the next day.
Simple. Basic. Happy.
My birthday bitchslapped my expectations and I have awesome friends, parents, boyfriend, and cooperative marine life.
All sorts of emailed well wishes, which I greatly appreciate to you guys out there, and thank you. Got a birthday card from my mom via snail mail. Went to small group, which went well, and still was happy, but didn't really feel like it was my birthday, and that was fine.
Met up to head out to Aquarium with Nina, Ashley, David, and Jay. It's a pretty restaurant with good food that I've forgiven for contributing to my persistently troubling ankle sprain I sustained first term. Everyone was wonderful, we had a great meal, and Ashley whipped out the brownies she'd baked herself and stuck in the candles as everyone sang happy birthday.
AWWWWWWWW.
Dave had apparently been in cohorts with my mom, she'd sent him a bunch of presents for me, that he'd finished wrapping (they had to be partially open because of customs), so I could have wrapped presents on my birthday which he whipped out and presented to me at dinner.
AWWWWWWWW.
Then Dave pulled out his present to me. At first, I pretty much saw an SGU bear in surgical top and mask (it was commented that he can't be a real SGU student because he's not wearing a scrub top with shorts and flip flops, like most people in gross lab) that they sell at the bookstore that I'd said I thought was really cute and thought about getting, so I was thrilled he'd remembered that...
Until I realized that strapped to its chest; however, was an American Airlines ticket envelope containing a US dollar, 5 EC, 5 Euro, and 10 tien gulden (Netherlands Antilles). He said something to the effect of him knowing how much I like seeing new countries and getting my passport stamped (I'm a dork), so over Easter, we were gonna do four countries in four days: the US (Puerto Rico), St. Marten (Netherlands), Sint Maarten (France), and Anguilla.
So essentially, my jaw was hanging open for the rest of the meal, the check for which he picked up. Whoa.
And Jay piped up with throwing in the departure tax, since he's apparently known about this and is just that awesome (along with Nina, who's gonna teach me how to make foccacia because I'm addicted to it) at keeping secrets.
THEN it was back to my apartment for House night, which we arrived just in time for.
Woke up the next morning, still encompassed by the awesomeness of my friends and family, to go diving.
Dived the Bianca C, which I've wanted to dive since... well, before I came to the island the first time, and five minutes into the dive, the divemaster pointed up to indicate there was a giant spotted eagle ray above us. We moved toward the forward mast of the ship, which was fairly thick with barracuda, as shown:
This wreck is many degrees of awesome in and of itself, by the way, and it was also my deepest dive at max depth of 125 feet, and to scuba divers out there, yes, I did feel pretty narced. I'm apparently a cheap date.
Second dive was beautiful and involved spending half of it chasing the first sea turtle I've seen since coming to Grenada, which came close enough to me that I could touch its shell.
All in all, a birthday that was supposed to be a "I hope this day is actually less suckful than the usual day to day activity of being under constant stress" became seventeen different varieties of awesome. Thank you to all!
Nov 13, 2007
My birthday present...
Is having to attend a neuro small group today! Wahoo! Now, if they want to give me a really *good* birthday present, they'll make attending that small group worth like 100 points that they give me for being so goshdarned awesome that I don't have to prove I know anything.
Come to think of it, could that be my present for physio too? Or instead, really. I'll study neuro, like double time, so I get the hot neurologist knowledge, if it means no physio.
I'll even take immuno, really. Granted, it's only 2 units, but it's 2 of the worst units.
I turn/ed 27 today, which somehow makes me feel closer to 30 (by the slight remainder of my ability to do math), yet 30 feels hideously far away because it'll mark the end of medical school, which feels nothing like close.
In celebration of my 27th birthday, not only am I doing an Aquarium party Tuesday night and diving the Bianca C on Wednesday morning (which couldn't possibly produce ill effects), but I have my first wrinkle! Wahoo! It's in a really awesome place too. There is now a little line across my forehead in my fairly token "What the hell?" expression, which I apparently have made more throughout my life than I was aware of, but it's a badge.
It's also notable that my face has remained relatively unlined until setting foot in a medical school. I'm betting on liver spots, chronic hypertension, and an aortic aneurysm by May.
Come to think of it, could that be my present for physio too? Or instead, really. I'll study neuro, like double time, so I get the hot neurologist knowledge, if it means no physio.
I'll even take immuno, really. Granted, it's only 2 units, but it's 2 of the worst units.
I turn/ed 27 today, which somehow makes me feel closer to 30 (by the slight remainder of my ability to do math), yet 30 feels hideously far away because it'll mark the end of medical school, which feels nothing like close.
In celebration of my 27th birthday, not only am I doing an Aquarium party Tuesday night and diving the Bianca C on Wednesday morning (which couldn't possibly produce ill effects), but I have my first wrinkle! Wahoo! It's in a really awesome place too. There is now a little line across my forehead in my fairly token "What the hell?" expression, which I apparently have made more throughout my life than I was aware of, but it's a badge.
It's also notable that my face has remained relatively unlined until setting foot in a medical school. I'm betting on liver spots, chronic hypertension, and an aortic aneurysm by May.
Nov 10, 2007
Relevant Information?
In Neuro, we have a list of the Levels of Unconsciousness, which differentiates between lethargic, obtunded, stuporous, and comatose. While this is interesting (as neuro has been now that it's taken a hard turn away from the tracts of the body, which is slightly less interesting than reading a road atlas), I fear it does not have the same relevance to medical students as it should. So I present the Second Term Medical Student "Levels of Unconsciousness":
Neuroscience: Patient can be fully aroused, but would be easier to arouse if lecture were not typically at 8 in the morning
Renal Physiology: Patient cannot be fully aroused. Though visiting professor's use of vaguely dirty words, or himself as a clinical example, may raise consciousness level.
Endocrine Physiology: Sleep-like status, not aided by the fact that professor is eradicating his own character tics in the interest of being a better public speaker. Counting 'Uh's (George Bush Sr.) or 'Okay?'s (prof) keeps people awake!
Immunology: No purposeful response (normally due to either a lack of patient's presence in lecture, or patient's subsequent suicide after attending a lecture)
Addendum/Edit: it has been brought to my attention that the correct term would be "rouse", not "arouse", which means something entirely different, but may net me more blog hits. Since the "arousing" parts are cribbed directly from my lecture notes, I think I'm going to leave them as an homage to grammar/usage. And it's still loads better than the GI physiology lectures were.
Addendum/Edit Jr: Jogging in Grenada earlier made me ask a question I never thought I would have to ask: If given no other option than to pass far closer to a cow than you would like to, which end of the cow is the most dangerous? As a follow up question, when choosing which bovine is going to be the safest bet for the above question, do you run closer to the bull itself, or do you run closer to the cows, which may make the bull think you're trying to get up on his women? Because having to take a leave of absence due to being EITHER kicked or gored would probably emphasize the wrong aspects of this medical school to a residency committee.
Neuroscience: Patient can be fully aroused, but would be easier to arouse if lecture were not typically at 8 in the morning
Renal Physiology: Patient cannot be fully aroused. Though visiting professor's use of vaguely dirty words, or himself as a clinical example, may raise consciousness level.
Endocrine Physiology: Sleep-like status, not aided by the fact that professor is eradicating his own character tics in the interest of being a better public speaker. Counting 'Uh's (George Bush Sr.) or 'Okay?'s (prof) keeps people awake!
Immunology: No purposeful response (normally due to either a lack of patient's presence in lecture, or patient's subsequent suicide after attending a lecture)
Addendum/Edit: it has been brought to my attention that the correct term would be "rouse", not "arouse", which means something entirely different, but may net me more blog hits. Since the "arousing" parts are cribbed directly from my lecture notes, I think I'm going to leave them as an homage to grammar/usage. And it's still loads better than the GI physiology lectures were.
Addendum/Edit Jr: Jogging in Grenada earlier made me ask a question I never thought I would have to ask: If given no other option than to pass far closer to a cow than you would like to, which end of the cow is the most dangerous? As a follow up question, when choosing which bovine is going to be the safest bet for the above question, do you run closer to the bull itself, or do you run closer to the cows, which may make the bull think you're trying to get up on his women? Because having to take a leave of absence due to being EITHER kicked or gored would probably emphasize the wrong aspects of this medical school to a residency committee.
Nov 9, 2007
Czech it out
Oh, bad and easy puns. You can tell it's 3:30 in the morning.
Prague meeting!!!! On Wednesday, there was a meeting for all the people that got into the 2008 Prague selective, and we got to talk about how awesome Prague is going to be, ask questions, and meet Dr. Stransky, who not only runs the selective but owns the local bar. Now, that's handy.
If you want all the official info, and not my "never been to Europe before OMG" gushing, go here.
If you want to hear from someone who's smarter than I am, and a better writer than I am, and has actually *done* the Prague selective, go here.
Still around? Suckers.
The meeting didn't tell me all that much I didn't already know, but just sitting around with other people confirming that this was actually how we are going to spend our summer was awesome. Also got a little more elaboration on the selective itself, such as students being able to do anything from observe the goings on to scrubbing in and holding retractors. Whoa. I cannot contain the potential awesomeness of that. While, of course, being in Prague.
The selective will be from 8-12 five days a week, with two afternoon seminars a week. I want that schedule when I'm a real doctor. Dr. Stransky also cautioned us that if/when we take weekend trips to Berlin, Vienna, or Budapest, we should be careful to make sure we're back in time for Monday morning rounds because the trains can get delayed.
There was also a segment on consulting local consulate/embassies, oh, and we'd be meeting the American ambassador, etc, and it was around this point (and the whole "be careful not to get stuck in Hungary over the weekend" thing) that I realized I was hearing all this while living in Grenada, closer to Africa than I am to California. I spent last Easter on a weekend trip to Venezuela. I was inconvenienced by having to sit on the floor of an airport in Jamaica, and I'm getting home for Christmas by way of Trinidad.
A year ago, I had been to Canada as a baby, border cities in Mexico, and one dive trip to the Philippines that was under the protection and arrangement of my friendly local Sacramento shop.
So it's become bizarre. A really awesome, mildly scary "wow, I feel like a globetrotting rich kid despite buying lentils because meat is too damn expensive" bizarre, but bizarre nonetheless.
Before I came to Grenada, I always had this "ooh, ah, how incredible" for the people that went to this school and were constantly flipping between countries, and thought their lives were so infinitely fascinating to listen to, and couldn't understand why none of the students seemed to think of it that way. And it's funny how quickly a lot of weird stuff becomes standard (hey, don't you hate it when stray dogs run at you?; Oh wow! You have a blender???), and then every so often, it slaps you in the face just how far removed from your normal dynamic you are, and the Prague meeting was one of those moments. Heh. It is surreal to me that in eight months, I may be trying to mangle "Where is your pain?" in Czech.
Prague meeting!!!! On Wednesday, there was a meeting for all the people that got into the 2008 Prague selective, and we got to talk about how awesome Prague is going to be, ask questions, and meet Dr. Stransky, who not only runs the selective but owns the local bar. Now, that's handy.
If you want all the official info, and not my "never been to Europe before OMG" gushing, go here.
If you want to hear from someone who's smarter than I am, and a better writer than I am, and has actually *done* the Prague selective, go here.
Still around? Suckers.
The meeting didn't tell me all that much I didn't already know, but just sitting around with other people confirming that this was actually how we are going to spend our summer was awesome. Also got a little more elaboration on the selective itself, such as students being able to do anything from observe the goings on to scrubbing in and holding retractors. Whoa. I cannot contain the potential awesomeness of that. While, of course, being in Prague.
The selective will be from 8-12 five days a week, with two afternoon seminars a week. I want that schedule when I'm a real doctor. Dr. Stransky also cautioned us that if/when we take weekend trips to Berlin, Vienna, or Budapest, we should be careful to make sure we're back in time for Monday morning rounds because the trains can get delayed.
There was also a segment on consulting local consulate/embassies, oh, and we'd be meeting the American ambassador, etc, and it was around this point (and the whole "be careful not to get stuck in Hungary over the weekend" thing) that I realized I was hearing all this while living in Grenada, closer to Africa than I am to California. I spent last Easter on a weekend trip to Venezuela. I was inconvenienced by having to sit on the floor of an airport in Jamaica, and I'm getting home for Christmas by way of Trinidad.
A year ago, I had been to Canada as a baby, border cities in Mexico, and one dive trip to the Philippines that was under the protection and arrangement of my friendly local Sacramento shop.
So it's become bizarre. A really awesome, mildly scary "wow, I feel like a globetrotting rich kid despite buying lentils because meat is too damn expensive" bizarre, but bizarre nonetheless.
Before I came to Grenada, I always had this "ooh, ah, how incredible" for the people that went to this school and were constantly flipping between countries, and thought their lives were so infinitely fascinating to listen to, and couldn't understand why none of the students seemed to think of it that way. And it's funny how quickly a lot of weird stuff becomes standard (hey, don't you hate it when stray dogs run at you?; Oh wow! You have a blender???), and then every so often, it slaps you in the face just how far removed from your normal dynamic you are, and the Prague meeting was one of those moments. Heh. It is surreal to me that in eight months, I may be trying to mangle "Where is your pain?" in Czech.
Nov 7, 2007
The most awkward conversation ever...
Was probably on House tonight... to paraphrase:
"So, remember that time you tried to attempted-murder me by stabbing me with an infected needle?"
"Oh, you're going to bring THAT up?"
What, you thought this post was going to be about medical school? No way. The hypothalamus is boring. Really really really mondo important, and yet. BORING.
But does this episode and the newness of next week's episode (of House) mean no writer's strike on Fox? Will Scrubs be spared as well? Because if I don't get my share of cranky, dysfunctional, drug-addicted tv doctors, I go mad, uh... madder.
"So, remember that time you tried to attempted-murder me by stabbing me with an infected needle?"
"Oh, you're going to bring THAT up?"
What, you thought this post was going to be about medical school? No way. The hypothalamus is boring. Really really really mondo important, and yet. BORING.
But does this episode and the newness of next week's episode (of House) mean no writer's strike on Fox? Will Scrubs be spared as well? Because if I don't get my share of cranky, dysfunctional, drug-addicted tv doctors, I go mad, uh... madder.
Nov 5, 2007
NOO!!!!!!!!
My life has been stripped of all meaning.
Just say you won't take out House or Scrubs. PLEASE!!!!
Combine this with the gained knowledge that the immunology midterm will be cumulative, and you MAY see my lifeless body hanging from the nearest palm tree.
Just say you won't take out House or Scrubs. PLEASE!!!!
Combine this with the gained knowledge that the immunology midterm will be cumulative, and you MAY see my lifeless body hanging from the nearest palm tree.
Nov 4, 2007
The Sonic Foundry Effect
From the time most of us are in elementary school, we have noticed characteristic tics or expressions in our teachers, and this carries onto high school, college, and medical school.
This also, since our childhoods, has allowed us to relentlessly make fun of and imitate our instructors in a relatively mindless way. Not quite as mindless as taking easily-molded last names and screwing with them "Yeah, Mr. MORON!", but still pretty easy marks.
But with Sonic Foundry, one of our physio professors (whom I really really want to like because he's charismatic and tells jokes, yet really really want to hate due to the atrocious things the physio exam did to my brain) decided to pass time by watching himself and then headed his next lecture by making fun of his own catchphrase, and swearing off it with clever jokes.
Well now, that just takes all the fun out of it, right? So he's trying to reduce the number of times he says "Okay?", which he perceives (and from the laughter in the class, many seem to agree) as annoying, though it's never particularly bothered me, and quite to the contrary, allows me to imitate him while differentiating between my version of his voice and that of the Croc Hunter, because my imitation Oz accent only sucks slightly more than my imitation Trini one (which inexplicably sounds Scottish). I'm bad at accents. But I'll never stop trying.
Yes, that's right: Sonic Foundry: Enabling professors to remove lecture tics since 2007. Also enabling me to discover all of this at 3 in the morning, rather than when the lecture was actually given.
In other news, new X-Files movie! (former fangirl squeal) Though I'm hoping they forego the inevitable disappointment of a plot and just have the two main characters make out for two hours. Don't ask.
In other other news... jogging at dusk, fun. Jogging after full dark, not so fun. Dark, scary, and break-ankle-y.
This also, since our childhoods, has allowed us to relentlessly make fun of and imitate our instructors in a relatively mindless way. Not quite as mindless as taking easily-molded last names and screwing with them "Yeah, Mr. MORON!", but still pretty easy marks.
But with Sonic Foundry, one of our physio professors (whom I really really want to like because he's charismatic and tells jokes, yet really really want to hate due to the atrocious things the physio exam did to my brain) decided to pass time by watching himself and then headed his next lecture by making fun of his own catchphrase, and swearing off it with clever jokes.
Well now, that just takes all the fun out of it, right? So he's trying to reduce the number of times he says "Okay?", which he perceives (and from the laughter in the class, many seem to agree) as annoying, though it's never particularly bothered me, and quite to the contrary, allows me to imitate him while differentiating between my version of his voice and that of the Croc Hunter, because my imitation Oz accent only sucks slightly more than my imitation Trini one (which inexplicably sounds Scottish). I'm bad at accents. But I'll never stop trying.
Yes, that's right: Sonic Foundry: Enabling professors to remove lecture tics since 2007. Also enabling me to discover all of this at 3 in the morning, rather than when the lecture was actually given.
In other news, new X-Files movie! (former fangirl squeal) Though I'm hoping they forego the inevitable disappointment of a plot and just have the two main characters make out for two hours. Don't ask.
In other other news... jogging at dusk, fun. Jogging after full dark, not so fun. Dark, scary, and break-ankle-y.
Nov 3, 2007
Beats a treadmill...
So what do you do when you have Rock Fever and about half the people in your class seem to wanna kill themselves?
When you're tap water looks, well, like this:
When you feel the way you hate; when you hate the way you feel (anyone remember that Bush song or am I the only former Gavin Rossdale screaming fangirl?)?
I go for walks. Right at sunset. If I'm feeling particularly down (or productive, pick one), I jog. Because jogging at dusk never caused anything bad to happen to anyone ever. It gets me to reset; it boosts my mental health; it floods my body with endorphins; I actually get to listen to my more headbangy music, and I make my ankle swell up so I can go "ooh, peripheral edema".
But basically, it's hard to stay depressed when this is the scenery during one route of one walk that took nearly exactly one hour:
Pretty, eh? And definitely soothing But you have to wait for the other pictures, also taken around the same time, because blogger is being a buttmunch. Which kind of screws my mojo, so time to come up with a method to figure out what on earth is going on with immuno. At this stage, I'm torn between Ouija and reading tea leaves, since either is a better option than going to the "oops, taught them out of order but not going to really remedy that" lectures.
When you're tap water looks, well, like this:
When you feel the way you hate; when you hate the way you feel (anyone remember that Bush song or am I the only former Gavin Rossdale screaming fangirl?)?
I go for walks. Right at sunset. If I'm feeling particularly down (or productive, pick one), I jog. Because jogging at dusk never caused anything bad to happen to anyone ever. It gets me to reset; it boosts my mental health; it floods my body with endorphins; I actually get to listen to my more headbangy music, and I make my ankle swell up so I can go "ooh, peripheral edema".
But basically, it's hard to stay depressed when this is the scenery during one route of one walk that took nearly exactly one hour:
Pretty, eh? And definitely soothing But you have to wait for the other pictures, also taken around the same time, because blogger is being a buttmunch. Which kind of screws my mojo, so time to come up with a method to figure out what on earth is going on with immuno. At this stage, I'm torn between Ouija and reading tea leaves, since either is a better option than going to the "oops, taught them out of order but not going to really remedy that" lectures.
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