Three Kids and Counting


Confession: I have three children.*

You could say I’m a terrible mother since I see them only once in a whole week. And even on that one day, I give them around an hour, tops. Never an excuse but ever a reality, med school doesn’t leave tons of time to raise an armful of girls. I have soak up every moment when I can. And come Wednesdays, I do. Continue reading

Sink or Swim? My First Triathlon

Alive. Proof that there is a God in heaven.

Alive. Proof that there is a God in heaven.

I did what every triathlete website and beginner advice column warned against–started front and center, middle of the swimming pack.

My excitement over the not-too-hot-not-too-cold, partly sunny skies had distracted my thoughts. And sights of odd helmets and bikes with fancy clips swirled with the new faces smiling from slick wet suits. With my feet in a lake and cool numbers marked on my calves, any sort of strategic thinking was washed away. I was alive. The seventy degree water told me so.
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Giving It a Tri

My bucket list came out to play today. Even though school starts in three days, the little energizer bunny in me itched to check something off. So I opened the old computer file. Safari. Rock climbing. Undergrad. Quilting. Simultaneously ironing a quilt block and my leg…. (I should’ve gone upstairs to the ironing board, but the carpet seemed more convenient and I sat down and set the thing aside so I wouldn’t burn myself while opening my legs to better lay the fabric on the floor without remembering that I’d set the iron…)

Ouch. It’s painful realizing that my dreams float in this holding pattern of too-late-not-yet’s. I’ve outgrown sleep-overs at the manatee exhibit. I’m wondering if pet-unicorns ever existed. I’m not old enough to drive route 66 in a baby blue convertible. I can’t fly my hypothetical kids to the Philippines. I won’t, in good conscience, produce hypothetical kids right now. What could satisfy my need for speed, wheels, and water? On a grad student’s budget?
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I Want to Be a Part of It

“New York, New York!” smacks my ears as I enter the condo. A chorus of Frank Sinatra wanna-be’s sit at the kitchen table: Grandma, Grandpa, Dad. Shaking my head, I nibble on my pre-run snack before sprinting out just as my grandmother dances toward and serenades my grandfather whose sun-burn is the only thing redder then his blushing face.
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MD vs. PA: Part II

I don’t pretend to be someone that only dreamt of white coat days in an MD haze. For myself and many others, the question between MD vs. PA school manifests itself. But to what extent and when is anyone’s guess. The last summer after year one and calls to 4 PA friends doesn’t seem ideal, but neither is regret over staying simply because you are capable/smart/expected to etc.

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A Hear-ty Welcome Back

That’s hear as in your ear kind of hear.

And if you’re reading out loud, which I quite enjoy doing, despite dirty glances and an occasional chiding “keep it to yourself” spat my way, you would especially enjoy taking these out for a spin: otoscope, eustachian tube, transilluminate.

Upon returning from spring break, us first year medical students just wrapped up the head and neck portion of the physical exam. In my starchy white coat, I attempted to decipher words fuzzily familiar to those from anatomy class. My eyes on the patient, my chin nodding in agreement, my brain all aflurry–how is it that I can’t recall what I literally learned a month ago!? An hour of that and I walked out of the examination room hearing a distinct and distant invitation to [word]press on.
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TG Sans Turkey

Is that even possible? is the question I posed on the eve of a day slotted for merriment and gluttony. The morning of, 0715 brought me to wake then open my shutters like a good French girl. Traces of the words “H.TG.” were forbidden from my mouth lest all the associated memories spill over and wash what little sanity I had. Under the rare and sunny sky, this day would be and had to be fantastic, an answer to mine and mom’s and everyone else’s prayers for joy that overflowith like gravy over turkey. Continue reading