Yesterday, medical school thwarted my attempts at “normal” professional life. Continue reading
Whelp. Three and a half months or so of second year. Despite Thanksgiving break, medical school never stops. I have half a mind, or what’s left after microbiology, to tell it half my mind. Continue reading
From my toddler to medical school days, I can’t remember a time when my Thanksgiving dinner mirrored the normal American affair. Yesterday, this year turned out the same.
Where did we go wrong? Continue reading
All 4 feet of my four-year-old cousin snags my hand (FIVE years ol’! she’ll correct) and pulls me across a sidewalk, down some stairs, and through a break in the fence. I glance at my smiling toes in the sand. Shiny shells. Tire tracks
Wanna play the lava game? I propose. She dashes ahead leaving giggles in her wake. Our feet tumble along the imprints as we keep within the lines despite tempting shells and curly reeds. But to no avail. An acorn.