Many in this world are learning to live together. My medically-minded friends and I are living to learn together.
Not that we’ve anything against figuring out how to end wars between countries or siblings or political parties, but our future careers kinda depend on our brains. And our brains rely upon each others’ (see fortune above). Continue reading
Made the loveliest quiche with my loveliest friend, Jazzy, from study abroad time in France. We didn’t wait one second, couldn’t help our appetites, just dove right into the subject of working women within five minutes of her coming over. Continue reading
Don’t think hacking kale roots or yanking out mutant carrots sounds like surgery? Consider the first an amputation. Picture the second as a removal of infected sebaceous glands–yuck. Maybe don’t. But however you slice it, us future docs must learn how to be handy with metal objects.
Basic training began in our own backyard, or rather, a community garden in a local church’s backyard. Orienting ourselves with the sterile field, we gloved and gowned (why?) then plunged into digging and pulling and all around mess-making. Continue reading
Tonight, I made dinner with my favorite francophile friend, Jazzy. Some of you may have read about her in the adventures of my previous life abroad. When France seemed so dismally different from our homeland, we cheered each other on towards grammatical greatness, which seemed as elusive as a sunny day in the Loire Valley. I left that December. She followed suit in April. By some statistically significant stroke of goodness, we not only graduated but then ended up in the same geographical location.
Which is not France…
Holy cocoa! My inbox just burst open with the most hopeful email. And after a recent post on my school’s USMLE scare-fest, we pre-clinical kids could use some sweet words. To simply click “save” on this one would be akin to hiding away goody bags of dark chocolate from a good candy house found at the tail end of the night’s trick-or-treating!
Try not to get too freaked out… it will be okay. We both have within us what it takes to succeed, and will make it through. A good friend of mine, a fellow patient who has endured far more than I could ever imagine (and despite her significant illnesses became a judge for patients with disabilities) Continue reading
If your car ever gets squished to smithereens, remember to tell your friends about it.
Because if we find out via rumors of some text from a classmate with this obscure picture of you standing beside your hunk of metal, we’re comin’ after you.
Doesn’t matter if your precious baby car was totaled while you escaped with a few abrasions and edema, we’re comin’ after you.
Some scream for ice cream, others study for it.
I so earned every last speck of Oreo chocolate delight. And that bite of my friend’s caramel truffle swirl… also, those couple of test spoonfuls of fudge dream and chocolate creme. My brain-weary body wanted my one and only dollar to count toward something divine.
And have you ever met the nice folks at Baskin Robbins? They’ve such a heart for the poor, extending kindness to five medical students, granting each and every request for a sample. Maybe we’re picky. Or maybe we hadn’t eaten dinner yet.
The secret to learning the gorgeously intricate and fascinating language of the Middle East lies within its own speakers–i.e. if you make Jordanian friends, you’re bound to learn a word or two.
It may require picking them up from the airport on Labor Day weekend then inviting them over to someone’s house to hang out. And then you may have to get out of your comfort zone by trying an Xbox Kinect dancing sort of game whereby you’re flailing your arms in front of your new friends. But hey, when they’re fourth year medical students with only a month-long rotation at your hospital–you dance in ways you haven’t before.