Lanie Update

Because Lanie rarely gets a chance to play on the internet, I thought I'd give everyone a quick update on the girl.

For the last month she has taken to refusing to go into The Dog Room, an entire room in the house dedicated to her. She will not enter to lay on her futon, to eat, or to drink water. Since I was afraid she was going to starve, and her growling stomach was disrupting my study time, I have taken to feeding her on the first step just beyond The Dog Room gate. She now stands in the kitchen, grabs a mouthful of food, and carries it to the living room. She has also found an alternate source of water in the gutter drain in the backyard. I am trying to break her of this habit, and therefore am forced to drag her into The Dog Room twice a day to make sure she stays hydrated.


I recently decided to try to order some bones off the internet for her, mostly because PetsMart is running a racket on those things. She prefers the natural bones over rawhide, and I do too because they leave an easily vaccummed mess instead of a carpet cleaner, brush, and elbow grease mess behind. So, I placed my order and we both waited patiently for our package. I ordered 20 "ham bones" that ended up being about 8inches in length, a nice quick snack for the Loo. The other ones, however, were called "mammoth bones" and they weren't lying. These things are 3 feet long femur bones of one huge, but 3-legged, cow. Without even removing it from the plastic wrapping, Lanie was drooling over the treat. They are nasty looking, and smell of beef, but they are worth it. After three days of at least a couple of hours of chewing a day, she has barely made a dent. Best $5 unit price I've ever spent on the dog.

And today, Lanie went to The Dog Wash for a nice bath and nail clipping. She knew something was up when I got dressed for school and then put her on her leash and loaded her up. She normally loves car rides, but she shook like a leaf today. It tore my heart to bits, but she smelled, and my olfactory sense won out. We got to The Dog Wash, and she seemed excited until we walked in. Then she knew. So she assumed the Bambi position, all four legs splayed out on the concrete floor refusing to move anywhere. The people told me to go ahead and leave, that the dogs sometimes calm down once their owner is out of sight. I can't believe I left my girl there. But, I've got my phone right next to me in case she decides to break out and head home (it's only a block and a half away) or if any other problems arise.

It's That Time Again...

Life is full of cycles and rhythms. You wake up; you go to sleep. You gain weight; you lose weight. You are born; you die. It's just how life works. The circle of life... (Feel free to now sing a short chorus of the theme from the Lion King.)

So, here it is, once again, exam time. I knew it was going to happen. It always does. Exam time has been a truth in my life for the last 17 years, but it still somehow catches me off guard every time.

Float Like a Butterfly...

But look like you've been stung by a bee...

Last night I got into a wrestling match with my dog. She won. She sauntered away unscathed and I am now look like I have angioedema with a fat upper lip.

Corneal Abrasion

After a freak accident involving a rogue eyelash, I have been left with a minute scratch on my eye. It has not left my eye bloodshot at all, but it hurts like the dickens. Henceforth, I have been winking at random people for two days, and I'm pretty sure I have at least three dates for Friday night.

Mirror Time

I joined the YMCA recently, and enlisted the help of a trainer to set me up on a weight lifting regime. After a few meetings with Igor, my Ukranian trainer, I have about 7 exercises each that I do for upper and lower body on alternating days. Keeping in mind that each exercise entails three sets, and a short rest between, my gym time usually lasts about 45 minutes.

Here is what amazes me, however. In the time it takes me to do an entire upper or lower body work out, I will watch men stand around and complete maybe a total of 5 sets. The rest of the the time they either yak it up with their buddies, or their personal favorite, stare at themselves in the mirror as if those 5 sets have dramatically changed the landscape of their bodies since they stared at it for 30 minutes in the mirror that morning at home.

Vanity and laziness would be an easy explanation for this behavior, but here is my theory. In our society, thanks to ceaseless women's rights and discrimination fights, there are no longer many (if any) true Men's Clubs. Men no longer have havens of cigar smoke and leather bound books to retreat to. But even though YMCA, the Young Men's Christian Association, was forced to give equality to the sexes after a few lawsuits, the weight side of the facility is the closest thing these Y chromosomes have to a sanctuary of peace. So these men are not going to "work out" to see results (because 5 sets won't accomplish that) but rather to get away. And somehow, as I have ventured to that side of the Y and infiltrated one of the last of the remainding secret societies, I feel like Jane Goodall observing behaviors never before recorded.

Blizzard '08

Call the governor! Shut down the state! There is a millimeter of snow on the ground!!

I joke, but as soon as I heard it was snowing I put on my snow clothes (a sweater, a scarf, and my NorthFace jacket) and ran around outside in the flurry. I guess its okay to get excited when it only happens about once every 7 years!

If you look real close, you can see what appears to be some dandruff in my hair... but that's actually snowflakes!

Ten Minute Rule

I don't know when it was that I first heard of the Ten Minute Rule in relation to tardy professors. It might be an innate truth that might actually be encoded in our very DNA. Or, more likely, it is one of those things you learn so early in life it becomes part of your very being, like brushing your teeth in the morning or pulling your pants down before you go to the bathroom. So, I would go as far to say that the Ten Minute Rule is a universal truth of the universe.

So, how is it, that my Neuropathology teacher completely ignores this Law of Nature? When his lectures start at 8am, he blames it on the early hour as he walks in at 8:14am. And now today, when lecture was scheduled for 10am, he sauntered in at 10:18am. And, to put a little bit of icing on this unnatural, and downright rude, cake, he then assumes that he has the right to run-over on his allotted time since he started lecturing late. I do not know what illogical universe he is living in.

I guess though, he has learned of another universal truth through experience. Medical students are nerds, and we will wait 18 minutes for the professor to show up. And, we are too respectful to get up and leave at the scheduled ending time. I guess that's what you get for trying to pin down the universe with simple truths...

Signs of Aging

It is sometimes said that we start dying the day we are born. But, excluding maybe the ova population of a young female child's ovaries, this is medically not very accurate. Children's bodies and minds are growing. Their cells are dividing and living. At approximately age 18, however, things start going downhill.

Scientifically speaking, those cells that seemed to be capable of infinite division start to slow down and die. We reach our maximum height, and maximum IQ. You'll never be in better shape or have more hair than when you're 18. True, there might be a bit of mental curing left to do (because despite what you told yourself, riding on the hood of a car is NOT a good decision), but you are officially aging.

I think the true sign of aging is when your habits and thoughts about the world start to change. All of a sudden, I find myself wishing they wouldn't play the music so loud at the bar. I get angry at the cars that fly down my street. I see the stylish new jeans in the magazines, but can't believe that anybody would wear that, and find myself happy with the style that was popular in the late 90s (this is my theory on why so many women are still sporting the to the rib cage, popular in the 70s style.. they just can't let go of what they gre up with). And, I am looking forward to the best possible way to spend a Friday night that I can imagine: eating take out and watching a movie, all while wearing soft pants.

Where's MY Pager?

Please be prepared, this will be an installment of Peter Griffin's "What Really Chaps My Ass..."

Each M2 is assigned a full-fledged doctor to be their preceptor. This preceptor is meant to be a clinical mentor, someone who can help us newbies learn to stand on our own two feet in the hospital. His duty is to show us around the hospital, the physical exam, and basic patient care.

My preceptor, however, is under the impression that I am at his beck and call, a short white coat slave. He emails me a few hours before he expects me to meet him. He tells me to page him when it is time to meet, but has the attractive habit of just not answering those pages. And then, the icing on the cake, he really is not a wealth of clinical knowledge. He prefers talking about exams, tests, and patients in theory, not actually seeing and doing these things.

So here I am, feeling that my blood pressure is uncomplicated Stage 1 hypertension ranges, if not higher because once again I have been beckoned. I will have one hour to get to my car, drive home, change clothes, eat lunch, and come back to the hospital to meet him. Then, I'll be expected to listen to his rantings for as long as he deems appropriate, probably in the ballpark of 4 hours.

That really chaps my ass.

Vignettes from a Road Trip

The band at Cafe Firenze was just good, until out of no where, they pull out the secreat weapon. A mild mannered dude, who when given a microphone could wail and entertain the crowd without a single pit stain. We were in the presence of greatness..

My pledge sister, Sally, blew me away with her renowned one liners. My favorite from the night, "I was cleaning the hair out of my shower drain, and I found the girl from the Ring. Oh. There you are."

The belugas were my favorite. With the large number of transvestites running around the aquarium coming in a close second.

We took the VIP Behind the Scenes tour. Yeah, we're kinda a big deal.

At this point in the tour, we are standing above a 6.3million gallon tank filled with more than 50,000 animals. But you know... we played it cool. Impressed? Nah.. I've seen bigger...

Our tour guide tells us a rather graphic tale about two young Beluga whales who meet, fall in love, and attempt to consumate their relationship to the horror of all the children in the gallery.

Another M1 Flashback

Walking up to school today, I bumped into my M1 buddy. At the beginning of this year, I had infinite tidbits of wisdom to give this fresh young mind about how to survive the first year of medical school. But, this morning, I found myself at a loss of words. I had no advice on how to tackle the second year. But, I did have this...

Nine More at No Extra Cost---- Top Nineteen Signs That You are an M1

--You have ever gone to class to hear Dr. May laugh, to see what colorful short sleeve button-down Dr. Hostler will wear with his pleated khakis, to hear Dr. Galli use naughty words, or to hear Dr. Ard… wait, who am I kidding, you can’t hear Dr. Ard….
--You have ever been jealous when someone says they got six hours of sleep the night before.
--You have a favorite cubical in the library (or room in the classroom building) and feel strangely insulted when someone has gotten there first.
--Your knowledge of the defecation process exceeds the average person’s knowledge of the entire human body.
--You routinely wake up sharing a bed with Frank Netter or Henry Gray.
--You have ever placed a bet on how many donuts Dr. Sinning will eat during one Saturday review session.
--Despite the fact that you are in medical school you won’t be able to perfrom basic life saving skills until after April because your last name is near the end of the alphabet.
--You have to justify taking time away from studying for everday activities such as showering and grocery shopping.
--You have ever thought about starting up a round of “bobbing for kidneys” while studying in gross lab.
--In the line at Wal-Mart you diagnose seven different people with genetic disorders that occur in less than 0.02% of the population.
--You have seriously considered the possibility of sleeping in the classroom building.
--For some reason the words “now I have a video to show you” strikes fear into your soul.
--You can plot the test schedule with either your blood pressure or the facial hair growth of the guys in the class.
--You have ever looked at a living person and wondered what it would be like to dissect them and not thought that was morally wrong.
--Your idea of “suction” includes paper towels and a turkey baster.
--You look very important in your full set of scrubs and ID badge but when someone asks directions in the hospital, you have no idea what they are talking about.
--The only white coat you ever get to wear is actually more of a yellowish brown color.
--The only thing getting you through the final/board season (also known as the holidays) is anticipating with bated breath to see who will win the Great American ‘Stache Off.
--You have ever verbally cheered when you correctly guessed a diagnosis while watching Grey’s Anatomy.
--After a breech in the large intestine, the term “colon cleansing” has taken on a whole new meaning.

Step One: Cut a Hole in the Box

In less than six months, I take what is probably the biggest and most important exam in my life, the USMLE Step 1 Exam. It's there, in my near future, looming like a guillotine over a French Revolutionary's neck. As if every medical student from the day of acceptance did not know that this day that could decide the rest of our medical future is awaiting, our professors have taken to reminding us approximately every 15 minutes.

From all this, you'd think my life was devoted to reviewing, re-learning, or in some cases learning for the first time, every ounce of information that has been alluded to in the last 18 months of medical school. But, instead, my First Aid Step Review book, and about twelve other review books provided by my sister, are all still sitting peacefully on my bookshelf, with no more than a crease in their fresh paperback spines. I guess it's about time to stop worrying, and start opening books.

House of Miller

Mississippi Blues Marathon

I'd like to take a moment to congratulate my classmates, especially Shelby, Molly, and Mary Allyson, for running and completing the Mississippi Blues Half-Marathon. Lanie and I made an appearance somewhere between miles 10 and 11 to cheer on our friends. Here is Lanie showing her support:

It was tough. We had to get up at 6:30am on a Saturday, make signs, stand in the cold, and watch people run. I was exhausted...

The Grindstone

The holidays are over, officially. I say this not because Wal-Mart now has Valentine's Day decorations up, or all the stores are having after-holiday sales. The holidays are officially over because I am back in school.

Keep in mind, although I am back at school physically, my mind is a little slow to follow.

Happy New Year!

The two thousand and eighth year of our Lord is here. I rang it in with a riveting round of Power Twenty Minutes and an interesting game of Battle of the Sexes at a place of my past, The Lakehouse in Bolton. Good times were had by all... But, let it be said, who ever stole my lavendar down blanket from The Lakehouse sometime in the past 6 years... Revenge will be had!