More Hijinks

So, there's often talk about us medical types being impossible to talk to by anyone not specifically ensconced in our field, because we're dorks with god complexes who can't fathom anyone not being interested in our "most disgusting/disturbing digital rectal exam" stories at dinner.

In an attempt to derail myself (usually unsuccessfully) from this white coated stereotype, I'm trying to get an appreciate of the arts. It still makes me insufferable, but a different kind of insufferable, and that's all I'm going for.

One of our friends is a dancer, thus has known about this adaptation of the usually mind-numbing (sorry) Swan Lake. After confirming that would would be able to get the cheap nosebleed seats (last student loan ever!), we made a Wednesday of it.

The reinterpretation looks something like this:



As far as art, an interesting adaptation bringing swans more into their actual role as aggressive nasty creatures rather than the ballet's traditional role, which has them as fluffy females helplessly waiting on a handsome price.

As far as my own perspective, replacing tutu clad ballerinas with hard bodied males wearing nothing but feathered capri pants and extended guyliner wins two enthusiastic thumbs up.

Because I like emotional whiplash, Thursday we headed to the Oktoburlesk celebration at our local Gowanus dive bar. They also featured an accordion/alpine horn player and I did something I referred to as "polka" but to the untrained eye, probably looks more like spastically hopping around on one foot while wearing heels. No sprained ankle this time.

Also, sometime in the weeks before, I finally managed to get the tickets to the Daily Show. That's have been on my New York bucket list since I got here. With Sam Harris as a special guest, which gets me street cred for something. Now, onto the Colbert Report. And yes, when Jon Stewart walked out, I screamed and clapped like a Jonas Brothers fangirl. Yes, he is that hot (and short) in person. We had a guy warming up the crowd that was fantastic, and we all got free audiobooks, which was an unexpected bonus, plus directions to the Jon Stewart-approved BYOB Thai restaurant we later attended.

Oh, the life of a fourth year would be sweet if I wasn't about to eat about two grand worth of airfare. On that note, I'm still really thrilled about how interviews are coming, and I get to go to New Orleans, which is always exciting, made more exciting by going in the dead of NY winter.

Speaking of fourth year, I'm actually enjoying Family Medicine more than I expected. Though it will hardly divert me from my desired route back to microscope-hugging, it's the closest I've come to feeling like a real doctor because it has all the associated doctor framework. I thought Internal Medicine would feel that way, but IM seems to be more constructed from existential angst and despair. Outpatient clinics get the have patient, check patient's wellness, provisionally diagnose patient, possibly refer patient to specialist. Follow patient's progress. Check on patient in a week to a month to gauge problem list. Doctoring. I enjoy it a lot; I'm just not sure I'll enjoy it in twenty years, nor will I enjoy the absolute necessity of setting up my own practice for it, failing miserably because I have no business sense, and waiting tables at Applebee's (I'm your server, DR. Ishie) due to my inability to run a practice.

Oh yeah, and I like pathology a heck of a lot.

In other news...

I forgot in my last blog, but remember that tornado I told you guys about um... last month? Well, this last week we had an unexpected torrential hailstorm that dropped about an inch of quarter-sized ice pellets onto our porch. WTF is going on in Brooklyn?

Success is... expensive

Hi all, it's your regularly absentee blogger again, stumbling from the hours-crunch of "trying to have a night job" to "partying for fourth year". Plus there's the whole: "I don't want residency directors to figure out who I am, spend the next week reading this blog from start to finish because they have nothing else to do and then figure I'm too unprofessional to ever give a job in a desirable location, ie, the place in the middle of the Venn diagram that encompasses "places close to a large body of water" with "places where cockroaches can't fly". Or something.

But my title... I'm getting interviews! Wahoo!!! In many different places!! Wahoo! Where I have to fly to... um.. wahoo... during scheduled clinical rotations... hmmm... hope they don't mind that... in the middle of the holiday season... ooh... off my last loan check, which is supposed to last me until July... ergh... hurk.

No, it's exciting though. It really is. I'm actually applying for a job as a doctor. Which is really frigging bizarre, and I feel like the gap between my position and the residents is shrinking. When I started my third year rotations, I was scared of interns. Little things keep emphasizing to me that it's next year. Before next season clears up this season's story arc on True Blood? Doctor. Before my lease is up? Doctor. Half the stuff I receive through my school account is addressed to "Doctor", because, eh, close enough. I even played the doctor card to get my stuff back at one point, because I figure if an airline loses belongings that have a stethoscope and a white coat in them, it's fair game.

And it's a title change thing. Since I'm fundamentally afraid of marriage, I never really thought about the Miss/Ms/Mrs transition, but once I get this degree, I get "Dr" before my last name for the rest of my life, even if I spend the rest of my life selling Amway. It's extremely weird.

Meanwhile, I spent yesterday in conference, teaching me a number of things.

1. Trapping medical students in conference while you spend an hour talking about the hospital's financial restructuring has become an obsolete form of torture due to the invention of the internet phone. I never got a chance to read Crime and Punishment in high school, and it's actually pretty darn good. My colleagues seem to equally be enjoying video games, Facebook, email, and a USMLE question prep app. The residents, similarly occupied. Seriously, no one cares.
2. Despite being in conference, "I just came in for ______ and these expletives want to get all up in my expletive" is a far more common primary patient complaint than I would have expected. All I ask for in my doctor is that he not lecture me about biological clocks when I tell him I've never been pregnant. I'm easy that way.
3. Why must every conference room either be as hot as the surface of the sun or as cold as a meat locker?

One the plus side, drug company visit during conference plus radiology company visit during clinic today meant free lunches *two days in a row*. To a penniless interview-scheduling med student, this is the frigging moneyload. I also got to work with my favorite surgeon despite being out in other-Brooklyn and not being in a surgical rotation. Sweet.

Roommate and I are having an October horror-month. Paranormal Activity is freaking scary. And no, I don't believe in the paranormal, and my current favorite show has a serial killer as a protagonist. Still freaking scary.

Update: it is both wonderful and unfortunate (calorie and money-wise) that I live near the food mecca of the universe. Half the places roomie and I regularly frequent seem to be featured on the Food Network. This is going to make it very difficult to leave NYC.