Ideally I will do my absolute best to fill you in on some of the past stories and ridiculous thoughts that go through my head on any given day. This may take a while because - well I'm me. And there are just a lot of neurotic and random things going on.
For example, I am thoroughly convinced that there is a special breed of evil birds here and they have formed their own bird-form of social media to put out the word that I am here for 16 months...and they shall unite to totally eff with me. I hate birds. And they HATE me. And Dominican birds hate me EVEN MORE! I am not making this up. My mom and dad were able to come here back in February for the sweetest but shortest trip, and they were witness to this. Through unfortunate experiences and observation analysis, I have come to conclude they have 2 main approaches in their attempt to accomplish their current life goal - which is either send me into ventricular tachycardia or see me shit my pants. Or of course have me found dead with soiled pants. Obviously it's one of these. And the battle strategies are the Low-High approach and the High-Low approach.
These stupid creatures will take off at full speed, flying super low and super fast, their disgusting beady eyes gridlocked on me. I stop where I am. Frozen with fear. Absolutely convinced that this is the day they take me out for real. They aim for the gut. Then at the last second, and I do mean LAST SECOND they do a dramatic 90degree vertical shift and pretty much swoop up my chest past my face.
Or, I'll just be skipping merrily along, minding my own business, and then panic sets in because once again I see it coming. This time they are coming from above and are aiming to take my head off. They fly high and straight. Straight. Straight. Then BAM they freakin' DIVE for my head! I am not being overly dramatic here. I literally have to duck. And on way too many occasions, I have also had to take a leap to the side in a ducked position. I'm telling you. They hate me.
Last semester there was one day when a bird was trapped in the bathroom at the barn (the study hall I work in. I don't actually have to pee in a barn) and it was - in a word - traumatizing. Every time I had to pee, my heart rate would increase with the thought of going into that bathroom. As soon as I would walk, in I assumed my defensive position of 'low and covered'. Essentially I walked into the stall in a crouched position with my hands covering my hair (because obviously they would LOVE to get their nasty claws into my perfect nest-like mop of hair). And I stayed in that position while I conducted my business. Head down and praying - Please Lord don't let me be found passed out or dead in a bathroom stall. And if it's not too much to ask, could you please strike this bird down right now? I would literally shake as this bird spastically flew back-and-forth over top of my stall. Each time landing of the rim of the stallwall. Taunting me.
You may be thinking - 'oh that poor bird was just trapped in there and probably just scared because he couldn't find his way out'... In which case, it is a good thing I can't read your thoughts because I would be forced to put you in a serious friendship-timeout!! I'm not insane, and if I WAS insane... well that would just be a really bad move on your part to be unloyal to a crazy person.
Okay that is enough bird talk. I have shivers now. Moving on.
Today we continued with lectures in our Gastrointestinal module. In particular, we had 2 hours on parasites. Two main things I would like to share from this... 1) there is a bug in the Americas relevant to our study called the Reduviid, and it carries the parasite Trypanosoma cruzi. It is also known as the "kissing bug" because this romantic lil effer most commonly bites the cheek. Now, this parasite is transmitted via feces... so how does Casanova accomplish this? That's right. Whilst biting you on the cheek, it SHITS on your cheek. Way to ruin the mood. And then... that area feels irritated - for obvious reasons - so you will scratch, and it's the scratching which actually allows the entry of the parasite into your body. If that was a relationship, I'd say you just got dumped. What. An asshole.
2) most of the parasites we have talked about thus far are acquired through contamination of food/water with fecal matter. So it's safe to say that I am now envisioning microscopic pieces of shit on everything. The table? My green pepper I ate at lunch? The person's hand I just shook? Poop.
From 1-3pm on Thursdays I have PBL (Problem Based Learning) session. This is essentially like a scene out of the show House - except with way less attractive people. But the concept is the same - we are given mock cases about a patient, presenting with particular symptoms.... we have to use the white board to jot down data, analysis, differential diagnoses etc etc. We get the case in little bits in the form of strips of paper. So we will get a little bit of info, discuss our analysis of it, write down anything we are unsure of as a "learning issue" to research for next weeks session, then we will get the next strip of paper giving us a little more information (such as lab results).
There are 8 students and 1 facilitator. I actually have a really good group this semester. So far it differs from my group last year in the sense that I haven't had the overwhelming urge to leap across the table and punch someone in the face. Our facilitator is a recent Ross graduate, and he is great about giving us little bits of inside-info. Plus, he is from Puero Rico and has this heavy Spanish accent so that adds to the entertainment value. Today we were discussing different causes of finding elevated myoglobin and Creatine Kinase in blood work (markers for muscle damage), and were focusing on the fact that our patient was training for a marathon at the time of his illness blahblahblah... So then our facilitator, let's call him Enrique, jumps in there and is all, "anoootherrrr possseeble cause could be coontraactive sneeezes'. And I peek around the girl sitting next to me to look at him, and he's doing this weird flexing thing with his body. So I'm all, "Whoa!! having big sneezes can cause muscle damage from the spasticity of muscles contracting!? Wild."
Then fellow Canadian guy is all 'NO Taylor. SEIZURES'. and I'm all "oopsiedaisies".
And now I am back at the barn for the rest of the day. Learn about some more parasites.
So this didn't do much in catching you up on past things... but I promise I will get to it! One story in particular involves accidentally going a date. Possibly twice.
And I have my camera charged and will carry it with me so I can actually take pictures of the stupid random little things as I pass by them to share with you.
More to come...
Xoxo
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