About a week ago, I set out to write a post about what I have begun to recognize as the small victories in my life. I wanted to write about how I used to always sigh longingly when I heard classical music, lamenting my lack of time to play my violin, and how one day I came home and loaded all of my classical music CDs onto my iPod and set the radio station in my car to NPR. Now I hear at least a bit of my beloved strings every day, and even when my drive to school doesn't coincide with a classical broadcast, the intelligent reporting of domestic and world events leaves me feeling that the time was well spent in a way that updates on celebrities' lives on my old radio stations just didn't.
I wanted to write about the fact that Tay and I have managed to establish a habit of attending a spinning class every Sunday morning at 9:15; about how, after joining a new gym, we have (with the help of some personal training sessions) transformed the way we work out. I never thought that we would spend an hour lifting weights together or challenge ourselves to a series of sprints on the elliptical machines, but we do now. Regularly.
But over this past week - that pre-holiday, 3-day school week that was filled with nothing more substantial than holiday parties during childhood but now allows the curriculum to continue full-force until Santa is just about ready to drop down the chimney - I have been discouraged, disheartened, cranky. I realized yesterday that I was not nearly as excited for Christmas as I usually am. (Before you get alarmed, keep in mind that my usual level of excitement rivals that of an entire classroom of kindergarteners, so I'm probably still far ahead of the curve on this one.)
Why? I have boatloads of work to catch up on just to stay on top of my current class, when I had really wanted to devote my 10-day break to reading, writing and editing more of my short stories, and relaxing. Our apartment is begging to be cleaned, and Tay already does more than his fair share of the housework on top of his busy schedule, so I am determined to help out. And I am continually frustrated by my waning drive and level of concentration and by the fact that I have not yet been able to alter my sleep schedule to what I know would be healthier and more efficient. In total I've been feeling pretty blah.
Then yesterday I looked around our apartment, beyond the clutter and dust, and took in our adorable little Christmas tree sitting on our new shelves, surrounded by the glittering gifts that we have carefully picked out for one another and for our families and that we made time to wrap with love and care. I saw the funny, oversized birthday card that I received last Saturday when my friends came out literally in a blizzard to throw a surprise party for me. And I reflected on the wonderful pre-Christmas dinner that we shared with Tay's mom and her boyfriend on Sunday night. And I realized that I could still sit down today and write about small victories.
Merry Christmas everyone!
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Courage
I met a man with ALS today. That's Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis, or Lou Gehrig's Disease. It causes progressive demyelination of your lower motor neurons; bit by bit, you lose the ability to use your muscles and they weaken and atrophy, though your mind remains completely unaffected. It is irreversible. And fatal.
We just finished a section on neurology, got to meet some "real" patients in the Clinical Skills Center today (as opposed to the actors who we usually see there). Each had a different type of neurological problem: cerebellar atrophy, myasthenia gravis, Parkinson's disease, Guillain-Barre syndrome, stroke. Learning from these patients really made the information stick. I know I have read that treatments for Parkinson's can actually give patients dyskinesia (involuntary movements), but I will never forget seeing the woman today who, having taken her medication an hour earlier, had exchanged the slow shuffling gait and other movement difficulties of Parkinson's for the constant tic-like motion in her arms and legs.
Then we entered the last room, and were instructed to do a motor exam on the man sitting in front of us, who appeared to be approximately 50. His arms were strong - normal biceps and triceps - but his fingers were weaker in comparison. His thighs showed normal strength, but his lower legs and feet did not; he could not push down on the student's hand with his foot, or lift up his foot at all. The physician in the room mentioned that, normally, a good way to test strength in all the leg muscles is to have the patient stand up and then do a squat, but that this was not an option in this patient. Oh no, I thought. I think I know what this is. Please, please let me be wrong.
No such luck. The patient told us that he started noticing weakness and cramping in his legs about 18 months ago. He now has a diagnosis of ALS, and the loss of muscle control continues spreading up his legs and is beginning to affect his hands and wrists.
He told us his story calmly, and got a kick out of the fact that he knew the steps of the motor exam better than we did, as he has been examined by so many neurologists at so many different institutions. He was incredibly generous to allow group after group of students to practice their skills on him. If he saw pity or distress on our faces, he did not show it. In his case, it is not just the clinical findings but his courage and grace that I will remember.
We just finished a section on neurology, got to meet some "real" patients in the Clinical Skills Center today (as opposed to the actors who we usually see there). Each had a different type of neurological problem: cerebellar atrophy, myasthenia gravis, Parkinson's disease, Guillain-Barre syndrome, stroke. Learning from these patients really made the information stick. I know I have read that treatments for Parkinson's can actually give patients dyskinesia (involuntary movements), but I will never forget seeing the woman today who, having taken her medication an hour earlier, had exchanged the slow shuffling gait and other movement difficulties of Parkinson's for the constant tic-like motion in her arms and legs.
Then we entered the last room, and were instructed to do a motor exam on the man sitting in front of us, who appeared to be approximately 50. His arms were strong - normal biceps and triceps - but his fingers were weaker in comparison. His thighs showed normal strength, but his lower legs and feet did not; he could not push down on the student's hand with his foot, or lift up his foot at all. The physician in the room mentioned that, normally, a good way to test strength in all the leg muscles is to have the patient stand up and then do a squat, but that this was not an option in this patient. Oh no, I thought. I think I know what this is. Please, please let me be wrong.
No such luck. The patient told us that he started noticing weakness and cramping in his legs about 18 months ago. He now has a diagnosis of ALS, and the loss of muscle control continues spreading up his legs and is beginning to affect his hands and wrists.
He told us his story calmly, and got a kick out of the fact that he knew the steps of the motor exam better than we did, as he has been examined by so many neurologists at so many different institutions. He was incredibly generous to allow group after group of students to practice their skills on him. If he saw pity or distress on our faces, he did not show it. In his case, it is not just the clinical findings but his courage and grace that I will remember.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Mega Marathon
Things change during second year. The general structure in most medical schools is that students spend the first year learning how the body is laid out and how it works normally, and then study what can go wrong and how we go about treating it during the second year. An even bigger change than the shift in focus is the approach to testing that my school uses for second-year students. Instead of taking a course, having a few days to study, and then taking a final exam, we take several courses in a row (ranging from 2-4 weeks in length), and then take a series of four exams, all within a few days. Usually the exams consist of two finals for courses, and one exam each for pharmacology and nutrition, courses which run throughout the year. There are five sets of these delightful exam blocks throughout the year. We call them "megas."
The first megas of the year took place over Halloween weekend. That's right, the tests are administered over weekends. They are all given online, and we are allowed to take them at any time and place we would like, as we are bound by the school's honor code to take them honestly anytime within the four days that they are available on the school's testing website. This is both an added convenience and a challenge; yes, one can take them in your pajamas sitting on the futon in your living room, and you can take them in any order, but it can be difficult to set your own deadlines for each in order to leave time to study for the next one.
The first set of megas is rumored to be the hardest. I think this is due to the fact that we don't know what to expect and that it included a month-long course in microbiology (with approximately 150 bacteria/viruses/fungi/protozoa to master), a month-long course in hematology (which can be fairly difficult) and the largest chunk of pharmacology to be tested one one exam. It was an incredibly intense experience, with a week of nonstop studying balanced between several subjects.
In frustration one night, I turned to Tay and finally found the words to truly express what this experience is like: They [professors, administrators, and anyone else who is not currently in medical school but is trying to give advice about it] say that medical school is like a marathon rather than a sprint, that it's a long-term effort, that you must take it slow and steady. But here's the problem: you have to do this marathon at a sprinter's pace! You must go at breakneck speed, only you must keep it up for all 26.2 miles!
Ironically, just a few days later, I picked up Tay's November issue of Men's Health magazine and read an interview with Jason Bateman, whom we had recently seen in Couples Retreat. (The film was hilarious, by the way.) He talks about running and says "Marathons are good training goals. And on the day, you might elect not to wake up at %^&$ing 6 in the morning and go run 26 miles. But you've got 5 months of training behind you, which is nice." Normally I would balk at the idea of not following through with the performance for which you have prepared so diligently, be it athletic or academic. But then I used this idea to further develop the metaphor I had applied to megas, and it dawned on me that, even if a test doesn't go as brilliantly as I had hoped, what really counts for the future is the work that I put into learning the information and the new knowledge that I acquired along the way. Even when going at breakneck speed.
The first megas of the year took place over Halloween weekend. That's right, the tests are administered over weekends. They are all given online, and we are allowed to take them at any time and place we would like, as we are bound by the school's honor code to take them honestly anytime within the four days that they are available on the school's testing website. This is both an added convenience and a challenge; yes, one can take them in your pajamas sitting on the futon in your living room, and you can take them in any order, but it can be difficult to set your own deadlines for each in order to leave time to study for the next one.
The first set of megas is rumored to be the hardest. I think this is due to the fact that we don't know what to expect and that it included a month-long course in microbiology (with approximately 150 bacteria/viruses/fungi/protozoa to master), a month-long course in hematology (which can be fairly difficult) and the largest chunk of pharmacology to be tested one one exam. It was an incredibly intense experience, with a week of nonstop studying balanced between several subjects.
In frustration one night, I turned to Tay and finally found the words to truly express what this experience is like: They [professors, administrators, and anyone else who is not currently in medical school but is trying to give advice about it] say that medical school is like a marathon rather than a sprint, that it's a long-term effort, that you must take it slow and steady. But here's the problem: you have to do this marathon at a sprinter's pace! You must go at breakneck speed, only you must keep it up for all 26.2 miles!
Ironically, just a few days later, I picked up Tay's November issue of Men's Health magazine and read an interview with Jason Bateman, whom we had recently seen in Couples Retreat. (The film was hilarious, by the way.) He talks about running and says "Marathons are good training goals. And on the day, you might elect not to wake up at %^&$ing 6 in the morning and go run 26 miles. But you've got 5 months of training behind you, which is nice." Normally I would balk at the idea of not following through with the performance for which you have prepared so diligently, be it athletic or academic. But then I used this idea to further develop the metaphor I had applied to megas, and it dawned on me that, even if a test doesn't go as brilliantly as I had hoped, what really counts for the future is the work that I put into learning the information and the new knowledge that I acquired along the way. Even when going at breakneck speed.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Going in Circles
As you may have guessed, school is back in full swing and I have until now been unsuccessful in my attempts to steal some time for an update. But I have been thinking a lot lately about the whole experience of medical school and the way that the same feelings seem to emerge over and over in me, just directed at different academic topics. It's like going in circles, and it goes something like this:
You start a new class, determined to stay on top of your work. "If, each evening, I study what I've learned each day," you reason, "each new lesson will make sense and will be incorporated into an ever-growing body of knowledge. After going over today's lesson, I will pre-read for tomorrow's classes, and I'll use the weekends to review and solidify the information covered that week. Then, during the study days before the exam, I will study the small details that I may not already know, do practice exam questions, and be all set."
And then classes start and one of two things happens: you get lulled into a false sense of security because the pace doesn't seem that fast right at the beginning (and anyway, you always have the weekend to catch up if you don't fully review today's lectures!) and/or you use that early time, when there is no stress of a looming exam, to catch up on the rest of life (calling friends, answering emails, making doctor appointments, picking out bridesmaid dresses). Then, suddenly - WHAM! A familiar feeling creeps into the pit of your stomach as you eye the calendar and the mere two or three weeks that stand between you and your next-scheduled nemesis (exam), and contemplate the absurdly large pile of notes detailing the information from hours of lectures delivered at breakneck speed that need to be fully digested in that brief time.
Then, in the last week or two before the exam, there will be a few days when you are exceedingly focused and efficient, impressing yourself with your ability to recall minutiae from earlier in the course and just generally covering a lot of information during each study session. "I can do this!" you think. "If I just keep working like this, I will do well on the exam!" Then you will either hear another classmate discussing something he or she has studied that you still know nothing about; or you will read an email from a classmate that contains some question about the subject matter, the answer to which you cannot even fathom; or suddenly you will locate notes from several lectures that you completely forgot existed and that also need to be mastered. Your worldview will spiral downward as you realize, "Oh, my God, I am so behind. There is NO WAY I will ever be prepared for this exam! I am such a terrible student!"
But you must continue studying as hard as possible. And you do, vowing to yourself that next time, next time, you will keep up with the information as it is presented and not let this happen again!
Here's the thing, though: Usually the exam ends up going pretty well. You realize that it is virtually impossible to stay on top of this much information, and that you will never ever know it all. So yes, maybe your classmate knew something that you didn't, but you may know six things that she doesn't. And your score on the tests proves that you must have done something right. But as long as your type-A personality persists (in other words, forever), you will want to do better and to feel in control of your studies. So you will make new promises to yourself at the start of each class, and start the cycle over again.
I often feel as if I'm going in circles, failing over and over again to meet my personal goals of managing my workload and staying fully abreast of my classes. The other day, though, my gaze fell from the stack of pharmacology notes that I needed to learn to the stack of microbiology flashcards that I mastered (albeit in what felt like a last-minute frenzy) last month, and I realized, I'm going through the same thing, but I know more medicine now that I did last time. Perhaps they are not circles through which I travel, retreading the same ground over and over again, but cycles. The ups and downs may be similar, but with each go round, however arduous, my knowledge grows and I inch closer to the real goal.
You start a new class, determined to stay on top of your work. "If, each evening, I study what I've learned each day," you reason, "each new lesson will make sense and will be incorporated into an ever-growing body of knowledge. After going over today's lesson, I will pre-read for tomorrow's classes, and I'll use the weekends to review and solidify the information covered that week. Then, during the study days before the exam, I will study the small details that I may not already know, do practice exam questions, and be all set."
And then classes start and one of two things happens: you get lulled into a false sense of security because the pace doesn't seem that fast right at the beginning (and anyway, you always have the weekend to catch up if you don't fully review today's lectures!) and/or you use that early time, when there is no stress of a looming exam, to catch up on the rest of life (calling friends, answering emails, making doctor appointments, picking out bridesmaid dresses). Then, suddenly - WHAM! A familiar feeling creeps into the pit of your stomach as you eye the calendar and the mere two or three weeks that stand between you and your next-scheduled nemesis (exam), and contemplate the absurdly large pile of notes detailing the information from hours of lectures delivered at breakneck speed that need to be fully digested in that brief time.
Then, in the last week or two before the exam, there will be a few days when you are exceedingly focused and efficient, impressing yourself with your ability to recall minutiae from earlier in the course and just generally covering a lot of information during each study session. "I can do this!" you think. "If I just keep working like this, I will do well on the exam!" Then you will either hear another classmate discussing something he or she has studied that you still know nothing about; or you will read an email from a classmate that contains some question about the subject matter, the answer to which you cannot even fathom; or suddenly you will locate notes from several lectures that you completely forgot existed and that also need to be mastered. Your worldview will spiral downward as you realize, "Oh, my God, I am so behind. There is NO WAY I will ever be prepared for this exam! I am such a terrible student!"
But you must continue studying as hard as possible. And you do, vowing to yourself that next time, next time, you will keep up with the information as it is presented and not let this happen again!
Here's the thing, though: Usually the exam ends up going pretty well. You realize that it is virtually impossible to stay on top of this much information, and that you will never ever know it all. So yes, maybe your classmate knew something that you didn't, but you may know six things that she doesn't. And your score on the tests proves that you must have done something right. But as long as your type-A personality persists (in other words, forever), you will want to do better and to feel in control of your studies. So you will make new promises to yourself at the start of each class, and start the cycle over again.
I often feel as if I'm going in circles, failing over and over again to meet my personal goals of managing my workload and staying fully abreast of my classes. The other day, though, my gaze fell from the stack of pharmacology notes that I needed to learn to the stack of microbiology flashcards that I mastered (albeit in what felt like a last-minute frenzy) last month, and I realized, I'm going through the same thing, but I know more medicine now that I did last time. Perhaps they are not circles through which I travel, retreading the same ground over and over again, but cycles. The ups and downs may be similar, but with each go round, however arduous, my knowledge grows and I inch closer to the real goal.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Summer is. . .
. . . reading tons of books, both for my humanities project and for pleasure
. . . waking up (eventually) without an alarm
. . . learning to golf, with a lesson and several trips to the driving range each week. I can even play 9 holes now!
. . . traveling to CA, upstate NY, VT, CT, and even just exploring other towns on Long Island for a change of scenery and a yummy dinner
. . . sailing in a few races on the Great South Bay with my dad
. . . lots of wedding planning, including hiring a florist and an officiant and, most importantly, finding my wedding dress!
. . . spending tons of quality time with Mom, Dad, Bijou, and Tay
. . . being a bridesmaid in my cousin Kate's wedding
. . . rearranging the bedroom just for something new and in celebration of the fact that this is the first time in 9 years that I am spending more than one year in the same apartment
. . . seeing more movies in the theater than I have seen in the past year
. . . cleaning the apartment from top to bottom and organizing it (even the hall closet!)
. . . writing in the fancy journal I bought in Iowa while sitting out on the patio in the afternoon sun
. . . over.
Today was the first day of my second year of medical school. I have been juggling a huge mix of emotions, but I am back in action and embracing the coming year with the most determined and optimistic outlook I can muster. Ready, set, go! . . . study microbiology.
. . . waking up (eventually) without an alarm
. . . learning to golf, with a lesson and several trips to the driving range each week. I can even play 9 holes now!
. . . traveling to CA, upstate NY, VT, CT, and even just exploring other towns on Long Island for a change of scenery and a yummy dinner
. . . sailing in a few races on the Great South Bay with my dad
. . . lots of wedding planning, including hiring a florist and an officiant and, most importantly, finding my wedding dress!
. . . spending tons of quality time with Mom, Dad, Bijou, and Tay
. . . being a bridesmaid in my cousin Kate's wedding
. . . rearranging the bedroom just for something new and in celebration of the fact that this is the first time in 9 years that I am spending more than one year in the same apartment
. . . seeing more movies in the theater than I have seen in the past year
. . . cleaning the apartment from top to bottom and organizing it (even the hall closet!)
. . . writing in the fancy journal I bought in Iowa while sitting out on the patio in the afternoon sun
. . . over.
Today was the first day of my second year of medical school. I have been juggling a huge mix of emotions, but I am back in action and embracing the coming year with the most determined and optimistic outlook I can muster. Ready, set, go! . . . study microbiology.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Photos
Just to complicate things a bit, I now have another website to which I'd like to direct your attention. It's my personal site on Shutterfly, where I can share all of my pictures. Use this link to check out the album from my recent cruise and visit to LA. I'll be adding even more pictures shortly. (You will be able to view all of my albums at this site.)
http://beck28pics.shutterfly.com/
Here's a teaser to pique your interest:
http://beck28pics.shutterfly.com/
Here's a teaser to pique your interest:
Monday, June 15, 2009
Done and done!
When I was ten years old, I did a report for school on what I wanted to be when I grew up. I had to research the profession and come in dressed for the role. So did I grab a toy stethoscope and white jacket and tell my fellow fourth-graders about my plans to study the inner workings of the human body? Not even close. I carefully donned my favorite outfit (so as to be both comfortable and chic) and described my future as a writer. Perhaps that is why, two days after taking my last final exam of my first year of medical school, I found myself in Iowa City for the Iowa Summer Writing Festival.
I spent this past weekend in Iowa to participate in a workshop entitled "Writing Out Loud," which focused on techniques to make prose writing sing. I hoped it would help me dive back into writing as I begin work on my MD with Recognition project and sharpen my rusty skills.
The entire experience was incredible. I spent a total of eight hours (split up into two-hour sessions) in the workshop, where I learned techniques to develop the style of my writing and exercises to help get my thoughts on the page and to play around with phrasing. The workshop was small; three other women participated, each of whom brought a different background and writing goals. We each shared a piece of our work and then listened to the others and the instructor describe their experiences reading the work and the images and emotions it evoked in them.
During my free time, I explored the adorable downtown portion of Iowa City. It had an unmistakable college-town feel, with numerous delicious eateries, a variety of boutiques, at least four bookstores, and a touch of a hippie vibe. My hotel was situated right on the Iowa River; the immaculate buildings of the university sat two blocks uphill, beyond which sprawled the cultural section of the city. Much to my liking, it was incredibly clean, safe, and walkable.
It may seem strange that I am focusing more on a writing workshop than on finishing my first year of medical school. In truth, the end of the first semester of school felt far more climactic than the end of the year. The question of "Can I actually do this?" hovered throughout the fall, and the emphatic "Yes!" at the culmination brought with it a visceral exhilaration. Having proven to myself that I deserved my spot in the class, I spent the second semester pushing myself to do as well as possible in challenging classes, and by the end I simply felt exhausted and eager to reacquaint myself with the other topics and areas of life that have been gathering dust.
I was actually quite nervous about coming to Iowa. The University of Iowa has an incredibly strong and well-known writing program, and, while I desperately wanted to pursue some formal instruction in writing, I grappled with whether or not I was a good enough writer to even think of doing such a thing. (Luckily, the summer festival only requires enthusiasm and a credit card; no harrowing application process was involved!) As soon as I stepped into the lecture hall for orientation on the first day, however, I felt incredibly calm and completely at home, and knew that I belonged in this setting.
I love medicine, and I am excited to make it my life's work, but I also love to write. Here, too, is a difference between my first and second semesters: during the former, I quashed all other thoughts and interests because I was terrified that if I let my focus stray from science, I would be unable succeed - or even survive - academically. This spring, however, I began to rearrange my mind a bit and allowed some space for other things, realizing that instead of detracting from my medical studies, they can actually augment them. And so, I can finally shed the notion that my two goals are mutually exclusive and embrace both of them: I want to be a doctor. I also want to be a writer.
As I walked to my Sunday morning workshop, so thrilled to be immersed studying the stringing together of carefully selected words and to be in the company of others who love it as much as I do, I caught sight of my reflection in a row of windows and a thought popped into my head: I have become who I wanted to be.
I spent this past weekend in Iowa to participate in a workshop entitled "Writing Out Loud," which focused on techniques to make prose writing sing. I hoped it would help me dive back into writing as I begin work on my MD with Recognition project and sharpen my rusty skills.
The entire experience was incredible. I spent a total of eight hours (split up into two-hour sessions) in the workshop, where I learned techniques to develop the style of my writing and exercises to help get my thoughts on the page and to play around with phrasing. The workshop was small; three other women participated, each of whom brought a different background and writing goals. We each shared a piece of our work and then listened to the others and the instructor describe their experiences reading the work and the images and emotions it evoked in them.
During my free time, I explored the adorable downtown portion of Iowa City. It had an unmistakable college-town feel, with numerous delicious eateries, a variety of boutiques, at least four bookstores, and a touch of a hippie vibe. My hotel was situated right on the Iowa River; the immaculate buildings of the university sat two blocks uphill, beyond which sprawled the cultural section of the city. Much to my liking, it was incredibly clean, safe, and walkable.
It may seem strange that I am focusing more on a writing workshop than on finishing my first year of medical school. In truth, the end of the first semester of school felt far more climactic than the end of the year. The question of "Can I actually do this?" hovered throughout the fall, and the emphatic "Yes!" at the culmination brought with it a visceral exhilaration. Having proven to myself that I deserved my spot in the class, I spent the second semester pushing myself to do as well as possible in challenging classes, and by the end I simply felt exhausted and eager to reacquaint myself with the other topics and areas of life that have been gathering dust.
I was actually quite nervous about coming to Iowa. The University of Iowa has an incredibly strong and well-known writing program, and, while I desperately wanted to pursue some formal instruction in writing, I grappled with whether or not I was a good enough writer to even think of doing such a thing. (Luckily, the summer festival only requires enthusiasm and a credit card; no harrowing application process was involved!) As soon as I stepped into the lecture hall for orientation on the first day, however, I felt incredibly calm and completely at home, and knew that I belonged in this setting.
I love medicine, and I am excited to make it my life's work, but I also love to write. Here, too, is a difference between my first and second semesters: during the former, I quashed all other thoughts and interests because I was terrified that if I let my focus stray from science, I would be unable succeed - or even survive - academically. This spring, however, I began to rearrange my mind a bit and allowed some space for other things, realizing that instead of detracting from my medical studies, they can actually augment them. And so, I can finally shed the notion that my two goals are mutually exclusive and embrace both of them: I want to be a doctor. I also want to be a writer.
As I walked to my Sunday morning workshop, so thrilled to be immersed studying the stringing together of carefully selected words and to be in the company of others who love it as much as I do, I caught sight of my reflection in a row of windows and a thought popped into my head: I have become who I wanted to be.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
We set a date!
Tay and I spent Memorial Day weekend in Vermont with my parents scouting out wedding locations.
Success!
The big day will be June 26, 2010. We will be married in Vermont at Sugarbush, where my family has skied for about twenty years, and where Tay proposed. The date works well with my school schedule, and it is also our nine years and eleven months anniversary.
Thus, I will soon be starting another website. :)
Success!
The big day will be June 26, 2010. We will be married in Vermont at Sugarbush, where my family has skied for about twenty years, and where Tay proposed. The date works well with my school schedule, and it is also our nine years and eleven months anniversary.
Thus, I will soon be starting another website. :)
Summer Plans - Take II
I have decided that LA is a no-go this summer. Tough decision, but I'm feeling good about it.
In a [rather large] nutshell, here is the situation:
A few months ago, I had met with one of the deans to learn more about Stony Brook's MD with Recognition program, through which students can complete a project (six months' worth of work taking place over the first summer and then during the third and fourth years) in either research or the humanities, for which they receive funding and then recognition at graduation. I left the meeting with the understanding that I could do a humanities project in addition to my LA research project. I designed a project, found two mentors, was accepted, and also was awarded the Berken Fellowship, which is given to one student each year who is pursuing a project in the humanities. (It will be mentioned at graduation and during my fourth year I will present my project at a dinner with the family who funds this award.) This was the project that I had alluded to several posts ago. Yay! But not so fast....
Then I was told that I could not accept two sources of funding, even though they were for completely separate things. My ability to complete both a full-time research job and ample work on the humanities project was also called into question. Frustrated, I initially resolved to forego one source of funding and do a great job on both. Then, as my stress level rose rapidly, I realized that, while I could most likely do both, I would have little time left over for relaxing, spending time with my family and friends, planning the wedding (more to come on that topic but I feel it deserves a post of its own).... After much discussion, weighing of priorities, and meditation, I opted to bow out of the LA program, pursue my humanities project, and use the rest of my time this summer to recuperate from first year.
So what is this project that made me choose lovely suburban South Setauket over glamorous LA? I will be composing a series of short stories inspired by my experiences during medical school. The collection will include one story to represent each of the first two years, and then one for each of the main clinical rotations that I complete during third year. In preparation, I will be attending a writing workshop (Iowa Summer Writing Festival) and reading numerous works written by physicians during their training. I am intimidated, hoping I can actually accomplish what I proposed, but I'm so excited to actively pursue writing, which has long been a love of mine but has consistently taken a backseat to biochemistry and other less creative pursuits.
In a [rather large] nutshell, here is the situation:
A few months ago, I had met with one of the deans to learn more about Stony Brook's MD with Recognition program, through which students can complete a project (six months' worth of work taking place over the first summer and then during the third and fourth years) in either research or the humanities, for which they receive funding and then recognition at graduation. I left the meeting with the understanding that I could do a humanities project in addition to my LA research project. I designed a project, found two mentors, was accepted, and also was awarded the Berken Fellowship, which is given to one student each year who is pursuing a project in the humanities. (It will be mentioned at graduation and during my fourth year I will present my project at a dinner with the family who funds this award.) This was the project that I had alluded to several posts ago. Yay! But not so fast....
Then I was told that I could not accept two sources of funding, even though they were for completely separate things. My ability to complete both a full-time research job and ample work on the humanities project was also called into question. Frustrated, I initially resolved to forego one source of funding and do a great job on both. Then, as my stress level rose rapidly, I realized that, while I could most likely do both, I would have little time left over for relaxing, spending time with my family and friends, planning the wedding (more to come on that topic but I feel it deserves a post of its own).... After much discussion, weighing of priorities, and meditation, I opted to bow out of the LA program, pursue my humanities project, and use the rest of my time this summer to recuperate from first year.
So what is this project that made me choose lovely suburban South Setauket over glamorous LA? I will be composing a series of short stories inspired by my experiences during medical school. The collection will include one story to represent each of the first two years, and then one for each of the main clinical rotations that I complete during third year. In preparation, I will be attending a writing workshop (Iowa Summer Writing Festival) and reading numerous works written by physicians during their training. I am intimidated, hoping I can actually accomplish what I proposed, but I'm so excited to actively pursue writing, which has long been a love of mine but has consistently taken a backseat to biochemistry and other less creative pursuits.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Baby!
The baby arrived!!
At 12:29am on April 26, my patient's husband called me and told me to come quickly; she was about to deliver and they had just remembered to call me! I got ready and left home in record time. Tay dropped me off at the hospital and I raced to my locker to grab my white coat, then hurried to labor & delivery (after having to ask several maintenance workers where it was, since I have spent little time in the actual hospital thus far). I walked into the room as the midwife was encouraging Lisa to push. The contraction subsided, but on the very next one, at 1:01am, she gave birth to her son, Tanner.
The birth was the most amazing thing I have ever seen, and was rendered even more incredible by the fact that I thought I knew what to expect and was still utterly awestruck. The last scene in the movie "The Miracle of Life" has been burned in my mind since I witnessed it, horrified, in 8th-grade health class. But in real life, childbirth is beautiful and magical. As I watched Lisa's husband huddle over her and the new little being who laid on her chest, naked and still attached to her via umbilical cord, I struggled to cement a huge grin on my face in order to keep back my tears.
I watched the cutting of the cord, the delivery of the placenta, and the drops of silver nitrate being placed in little Tanner's eyes. Then, less than a half hour after he had entered this world, his father handed him to me! I am so touched that these folks were kind enough to not only let me accompany them on prenatal visits and welcome me at the birth, but to then hand me their new child, take pictures of me holding him, and send them to me!
At 12:29am on April 26, my patient's husband called me and told me to come quickly; she was about to deliver and they had just remembered to call me! I got ready and left home in record time. Tay dropped me off at the hospital and I raced to my locker to grab my white coat, then hurried to labor & delivery (after having to ask several maintenance workers where it was, since I have spent little time in the actual hospital thus far). I walked into the room as the midwife was encouraging Lisa to push. The contraction subsided, but on the very next one, at 1:01am, she gave birth to her son, Tanner.
The birth was the most amazing thing I have ever seen, and was rendered even more incredible by the fact that I thought I knew what to expect and was still utterly awestruck. The last scene in the movie "The Miracle of Life" has been burned in my mind since I witnessed it, horrified, in 8th-grade health class. But in real life, childbirth is beautiful and magical. As I watched Lisa's husband huddle over her and the new little being who laid on her chest, naked and still attached to her via umbilical cord, I struggled to cement a huge grin on my face in order to keep back my tears.
I watched the cutting of the cord, the delivery of the placenta, and the drops of silver nitrate being placed in little Tanner's eyes. Then, less than a half hour after he had entered this world, his father handed him to me! I am so touched that these folks were kind enough to not only let me accompany them on prenatal visits and welcome me at the birth, but to then hand me their new child, take pictures of me holding him, and send them to me!
The chief of ob-gyn at Stony Brook told me the other day that he has never forgotten his first birth. I can't even begin to count how many times I have already replayed this most sacred of scenes in my mind, as I'm sure I will for years to come.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Waiting
Remember the pregnant patient who I have been following through a program for students interested in ob/gyn? She is due tomorrow!! I have my cell phone on at all times. I can't believe how on edge I feel; every time the phone rings I think, "This is it! Is this it? Oh, it's so-and-so. This isn't it." I can't imagine how she must feel! This is her second child, so I was thinking perhaps she would deliver a bit early, but it is not looking that way. I really hope that it doesn't happen in the middle of the night, and I especially hope it doesn't happen right before or during my half-marathon in NYC on Sunday. I would skip the race to see the birth, but once I'm in the city running, I can't really rush back!
Anyway, to tide us all over in this suspenseful time, here are some pictures from my very short but
incredibly relaxing spring break trip to California:
Monterey
Big Sur
(me, Beth, Richa, & Vicky)
View from restaurant in Big Sur
Anyway, to tide us all over in this suspenseful time, here are some pictures from my very short but
incredibly relaxing spring break trip to California:Monterey
Big Sur
(me, Beth, Richa, & Vicky)
View from restaurant in Big Sur
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
All the food you would eat in a year
With two weeks remaining until spring break, I am still trudging/barreling full speed through medical physiology. ("Barreling" refers to the pace at which the material is presented; "trudging" is a more accurate representation of the speed with which I incorporate it into my mental framework.) The topics are very interesting, but, as with everything else, very detailed. Much to my high-school-teacher parents' chagrin, I have taken to only attending the very informative lectures given by the course director; most of the other lecturers tend to just read their slides, adding nothing. It is much more efficient for me to move through the material at my own pace, accelerating through information I know from previous courses and stopping to reference the textbook or make notes when necessary. Now that I spend much of each day in the library and fewer hours sitting in a lecture hall, I realize just how much time attending class requires! In some cases, it is totally worth it, but in others, it offers little return on the energy and mental focus invested. (Note: Brilliance in laboratory research, and even an earnest, kindhearted desire to help medical students does not guarantee clarity and effectiveness in a lecturer.)
In any case, I have adopted the strategy of focusing on the tasks I need to accomplish each day while avoiding too much thought about the subsequent and their required work. If I really start to consider how much physiology I should already know, plus how much I have yet to learn, plus all of the knowledge to be acquired during the next course, plus all of the information to learn next year, plus the fact that I will face the formidable Step I boards in June 2010 (a test of all I have learned in the first 2 years of school; very important in getting a good residency; much more on this in the future!). . . if I let myself truly consider all of that, I would completely shut down - just cease functioning. And so I don't.
However, when I related these feelings of being overwhelmed to the sage and calming psychologist who leads my mindful meditation group, she smiled and said, "But in one day, you wouldn't try to eat all the food you would eat in a year." This woman is brilliant and helps me make sense of the world.
On the bright side, I am eagerly anticipating several events. First, I will be spending 3 days in San Francisco and Monterey, CA, during spring break. I am going with two of my girlfriends from school. Of course, we are keeping the trip short because our physiology final is scheduled for after our spring break (yes, I'm serious), but I'm sure it will be fantastic.
Second, I was just selected to be one of the leaders of the Obstetrics/Gynecology interest group next year. I will be arranging speakers for several club meetings throughout the year, so I am hoping this will give me the opportunity to get to know some of the attending physicians.
Lastly, I have a really excellent gig for the summer: a fellowship doing pediatric oncology research at Children's Hospital Los Angeles!! I don't know that I will end up practicing in this area of oncology, but I'm sure it will be fascinating work and I hope to learn a lot. Also, I have never been to LA, but one of my college friends lives out there, so it will be great to get advice from him and to hang out again! Apparently living in LA really requires a car, so Tay and I plan to take some time for a road trip to get out there, and then perhaps my parents will fly out to help me drive back. (Suprise, Mom and Dad!) I don't know the specifics of my research project yet, but I am just thrilled in general. I absolutely love to travel and explore new places. Never fear, I will take TONS of pictures while I am out there.
I am also trying to work out one other potential side project, but at this point I'm not absolutely certain it will work out, so I am keeping my mouth shut (fingers still? As in, not typing?) for now.
As always, back to work....
In any case, I have adopted the strategy of focusing on the tasks I need to accomplish each day while avoiding too much thought about the subsequent and their required work. If I really start to consider how much physiology I should already know, plus how much I have yet to learn, plus all of the knowledge to be acquired during the next course, plus all of the information to learn next year, plus the fact that I will face the formidable Step I boards in June 2010 (a test of all I have learned in the first 2 years of school; very important in getting a good residency; much more on this in the future!). . . if I let myself truly consider all of that, I would completely shut down - just cease functioning. And so I don't.
However, when I related these feelings of being overwhelmed to the sage and calming psychologist who leads my mindful meditation group, she smiled and said, "But in one day, you wouldn't try to eat all the food you would eat in a year." This woman is brilliant and helps me make sense of the world.
On the bright side, I am eagerly anticipating several events. First, I will be spending 3 days in San Francisco and Monterey, CA, during spring break. I am going with two of my girlfriends from school. Of course, we are keeping the trip short because our physiology final is scheduled for after our spring break (yes, I'm serious), but I'm sure it will be fantastic.
Second, I was just selected to be one of the leaders of the Obstetrics/Gynecology interest group next year. I will be arranging speakers for several club meetings throughout the year, so I am hoping this will give me the opportunity to get to know some of the attending physicians.
Lastly, I have a really excellent gig for the summer: a fellowship doing pediatric oncology research at Children's Hospital Los Angeles!! I don't know that I will end up practicing in this area of oncology, but I'm sure it will be fascinating work and I hope to learn a lot. Also, I have never been to LA, but one of my college friends lives out there, so it will be great to get advice from him and to hang out again! Apparently living in LA really requires a car, so Tay and I plan to take some time for a road trip to get out there, and then perhaps my parents will fly out to help me drive back. (Suprise, Mom and Dad!) I don't know the specifics of my research project yet, but I am just thrilled in general. I absolutely love to travel and explore new places. Never fear, I will take TONS of pictures while I am out there.
I am also trying to work out one other potential side project, but at this point I'm not absolutely certain it will work out, so I am keeping my mouth shut (fingers still? As in, not typing?) for now.
As always, back to work....
Sunday, March 1, 2009
The snow gods are good!
Last weekend, Tay and I and a friend from school made a quick trip up to Sugarbush to get in a bit of skiing and relaxation. Although our arrival was delayed until 2:30am due to snowy roads - my car just barely made it up the steep Sugarbush Access Road that leads up to the mountain - the entire mountain was in outstanding condition the following day. Now tonight, after a weekend of studying for a test that was scheduled for tomorrow, I have learned that school is cancelled tomorrow due to the massive snowstorm that is supposed to drop up to 14" on Long Island. As a result, I was able to catch an episode of Platinum Weddings (quality television) tonight and can spend tomorrow catching up on the work that I had put aside in favor of studying (and, if Tay has tomorrow off from work and can play outside with me, build a snowman).
Besides the glorious snow, much has happened in the past two months that bears mentioning. During the first four weeks of the semester, I completed an entire course in neuroscience. It was somewhat less than my favorite experience. I entered the course unready to end vacation, excited about being engaged, and with sort of a bias against the subject as a result of a short-lived experience working in neurology before I got my job at the cancer center at Dartmouth last year. The course was also poorly organized and the lectures were incredible scattered and involved long tangents, although that doesn't excuse my lack of motivation. Also, the second-year students led my class to believe that this course would be much easier than our fall curriculum. (Not true!!) I survived, although my enthusiasm and pride took a bit of a beating.
Now I am studying physiology (how the different body systems work) and histology (the study of different body tissues). The professor is phenomenal, both in terms of organization and teaching ability. I truly wish he could teach every single other course in med school!! I also find these topics much more interesting; in studying, for example, how the heart functions and what goes wrong in congestive heart failure or aortic valve stenosis, I feel like I am truly a medical student! I do have to admit, though, that even with my interest in this class, I have a love/hate relationship with med school. I know/think (it changes with my mood and the day's events) that I want to be a doctor, but this part of the journey is hard and not that much fun. The information actually isn't that difficult to grasp, but there is such a enormous amount that trying to learn and understand it in a meaningful way given the time constraints is a neverending battle. Part of me is very concerned with grades and wants to achieve the highest scores I can in everything, but another part of me doesn't want to give up absolutely everything else in my life in order to do that. So you see, there is an opportunity for frustration and unhappiness regardless of which path I choose. (I vacillate often.) Further, it has been disconcerting to discover that, although it is the path I have chosen, I don't always like med school. I am learning, through my mindful meditation practice, to come to grips with that and accept the situation and do the best I can.
On a lighter note, with the help of Tay and our friend Bill, I presented a poster at an academic conference in New Haven, CT, last month. It was the culmination of a project that we completed while earning our masters degrees, and we submitted it to this year's meeting of the North American Society for Psychosocial Obstetrics and Gynecology. We developed a decision tool intended to assist women who are pregnant with triplets in deciding whether to carry the full triplet pregnancy to term (which involves health risks to both the mother and fetuses, in addition to heightened risks of handicaps such as cerebral palsy and Down's Syndrome in the children) or to undergo selective reduction (which carries risks of its own, although it lessens the aforementioned risks). Here we are at the poster session:
The poster was well-received, and we spent a fantastic weekend catching up with a variety of friends in New Haven. A definite highlight was the fact that I got to go shopping for a wedding dress with one of my closest friends!
It looks like I have been my verbose self once again. Back to the books for a bit and then off to bed so I can be well-rested to enjoy tomorrow. I think we are never to old to relish a snow day!
Besides the glorious snow, much has happened in the past two months that bears mentioning. During the first four weeks of the semester, I completed an entire course in neuroscience. It was somewhat less than my favorite experience. I entered the course unready to end vacation, excited about being engaged, and with sort of a bias against the subject as a result of a short-lived experience working in neurology before I got my job at the cancer center at Dartmouth last year. The course was also poorly organized and the lectures were incredible scattered and involved long tangents, although that doesn't excuse my lack of motivation. Also, the second-year students led my class to believe that this course would be much easier than our fall curriculum. (Not true!!) I survived, although my enthusiasm and pride took a bit of a beating.
Now I am studying physiology (how the different body systems work) and histology (the study of different body tissues). The professor is phenomenal, both in terms of organization and teaching ability. I truly wish he could teach every single other course in med school!! I also find these topics much more interesting; in studying, for example, how the heart functions and what goes wrong in congestive heart failure or aortic valve stenosis, I feel like I am truly a medical student! I do have to admit, though, that even with my interest in this class, I have a love/hate relationship with med school. I know/think (it changes with my mood and the day's events) that I want to be a doctor, but this part of the journey is hard and not that much fun. The information actually isn't that difficult to grasp, but there is such a enormous amount that trying to learn and understand it in a meaningful way given the time constraints is a neverending battle. Part of me is very concerned with grades and wants to achieve the highest scores I can in everything, but another part of me doesn't want to give up absolutely everything else in my life in order to do that. So you see, there is an opportunity for frustration and unhappiness regardless of which path I choose. (I vacillate often.) Further, it has been disconcerting to discover that, although it is the path I have chosen, I don't always like med school. I am learning, through my mindful meditation practice, to come to grips with that and accept the situation and do the best I can.
On a lighter note, with the help of Tay and our friend Bill, I presented a poster at an academic conference in New Haven, CT, last month. It was the culmination of a project that we completed while earning our masters degrees, and we submitted it to this year's meeting of the North American Society for Psychosocial Obstetrics and Gynecology. We developed a decision tool intended to assist women who are pregnant with triplets in deciding whether to carry the full triplet pregnancy to term (which involves health risks to both the mother and fetuses, in addition to heightened risks of handicaps such as cerebral palsy and Down's Syndrome in the children) or to undergo selective reduction (which carries risks of its own, although it lessens the aforementioned risks). Here we are at the poster session:
The poster was well-received, and we spent a fantastic weekend catching up with a variety of friends in New Haven. A definite highlight was the fact that I got to go shopping for a wedding dress with one of my closest friends!
It looks like I have been my verbose self once again. Back to the books for a bit and then off to bed so I can be well-rested to enjoy tomorrow. I think we are never to old to relish a snow day!
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Reese Witherspoon is my Fashion Twin
Last Saturday night, Tay and I attended a semi-formal, affectionately known as the Med School Prom. It was held at the Port Jefferson Country Club, which is not far from where we live, and we had a great time. I wore a new dress that my mom had very generously bought for me during our Christmas-sales shopping spree. Just a few days before the event, I was perusing the internet and saw a picture of Reese Witherspoon, one of my favorite actresses, wearing an incredibly similar dress! (Here she is at the People's Choice awards, courtesy of People.com) Clearly she and her stylist must have been monitoring my recent fashion picks!
My First (sort of) Real Patient!
One of the things that I heard about way back when I interviewed at Stony Brook just over a year ago was the Moms Program. Run through the Obstetrics & Gynecology Student Interest Group, it allows each student to be paired with a pregnant woman and to attend all of her prenatal visits and, eventually, the birth. I signed up immediately and was paired with a very nice woman named Lisa. So far, I have attended 3 appointments with her and observed a sonogram. She is about 26 weeks pregnant, so at this point, the baby is fully developed and just growing bigger, and I can actually tell what I'm looking at when I watch the sonogram being done! (I'm pretty sure I also know the gender. Lisa and her husband want to be surprised, although they have mentioned that one or two sonogram pictures made them think they know the answer.)
Lisa, like all of the women involved in the Moms Program, receives her care from the midwife service at Stony Brook. (Certified Nurse Midwives are masters-trained nurses who specialize in women's reproductive care.) Apparently the approach to childbirth is very different when you have a midwife birth as opposed to an MD birth. Hopefully I will be able to attend this birth so I can learn some more. (I also really hope that she doesn't go into labor in the middle of the night. Then again, with her first baby, who is now 17 months old and absolutely adorable, she was in labor for over 50 hours, so that would give me plenty of time to get there!)
The office where Lisa gets her care is right down the highway from school, so it has been very easy for me to attend her appointments and then get back to class. At yesterday's appointment, I got a real treat. The midwife let me use the Doppler heart rate monitor to find the baby's heartbeat! She explained how to feel around to find where the baby feels the most firm (its back) and then slowly search for the heartbeat. I found it pretty quickly, recognizing the fast swish-swish sound. Clinical experiences like this definitely help keep me motivated when I am slogging through courses like neuroscience!
Lisa, like all of the women involved in the Moms Program, receives her care from the midwife service at Stony Brook. (Certified Nurse Midwives are masters-trained nurses who specialize in women's reproductive care.) Apparently the approach to childbirth is very different when you have a midwife birth as opposed to an MD birth. Hopefully I will be able to attend this birth so I can learn some more. (I also really hope that she doesn't go into labor in the middle of the night. Then again, with her first baby, who is now 17 months old and absolutely adorable, she was in labor for over 50 hours, so that would give me plenty of time to get there!)
The office where Lisa gets her care is right down the highway from school, so it has been very easy for me to attend her appointments and then get back to class. At yesterday's appointment, I got a real treat. The midwife let me use the Doppler heart rate monitor to find the baby's heartbeat! She explained how to feel around to find where the baby feels the most firm (its back) and then slowly search for the heartbeat. I found it pretty quickly, recognizing the fast swish-swish sound. Clinical experiences like this definitely help keep me motivated when I am slogging through courses like neuroscience!
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