Hmm, Dr. Endocrine-lecturer is really nice.
I don't learn pathophys by osmosis, as much as I want to.
I don't learn pharmacology by any means necessary, as much as I've stopped caring.
Anesthesia is now running neck and neck with oncology in "I would rather take a shotgun blast full of rock salt to the face every morning than do". Anesthesia drugs suck, pulmonary physiology sucks, and lungs are only fun when they're breaking, which tends to not be the goal of an anesthesiologist.
There's enough of medicine that's actually interesting and varied and all that I'm not not so much trying to pick an eventual direction as I'm trying to eliminate those that would drive me to heavier drinking if I actually stumbled into them as career choices.
I should have invented a dying fiance who was taking care of my emotionally fragile war scarred twin boys and their adopted labrador puppy in Green Park if I wanted to score Brooklyn hospital. I'm guessing they're going to send me to the corner of John Deere and Crystal Meth for failing to jump back to California, which is where my currently missing driver's license shows my residency.
Speaking of that driver's license, if anyone somewhere between Dublin, Berlin, Prague, Budapest, Vienna, Venice, Bologna, Verona, Cinque Terre, Zurich, Bern, Engleberg, Dijon, Paris, Brussels, Amsterdam, Rotterdam, Orleans, Calais, Dover, Canterbury, or London happens to spot a California driver's license with a clueless looking blonde chick on it, please pop it to Grenada. Sigh.
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