Review and Edits

July 29, 2011
Well that is basic how I feel sometimes.  It's a twisted friggin' rollercoaster.  But totally the kind where I get off after the one ride, maybe stumble around for a couple steps until the endolymph in my semicircular canals sorts it shit out, stand up and shout, 'that was AWESOME!'  Then run back around to the entrance and do it all over again.  And even though I'm just a teeny tiny baby in this journey through med school, I know myself well enough to know that no matter how loop-de-loopy it gets, I would never want to be on any other ride.

Oh honey.  Oh sweetie.  No.  
I did not know myself.  Things got pretty damn loopy.  I totally wanted to get on a different ride at several significantly loopy turns.   I mean, I'm glad I didn't!  But, you know...

July 30, 2011

let me repeat. He needs. To watch. His back. and front. and sides for that matter!

How can one human being possess so many annoying qualities. And how did I look past them until now? Doesn't he get the message that I've had enough of him. We had a good run as friends. But then I woke up and decided it was over. Not everyone can be my friend forever. Obviously that's reserved for the super special. geez. I can't go whoring around my borderline amazing friendship. It's for the elite.  And my version of the Elite are not people who ooze OBNOXIOUSNESS by simply breathing.

It's over dude. give it up. leave me alone. when you come thru the barn door in the morning you turn right and go to the cubicle. Don't even look left to where I am. You know what, while we are on the topic of looking.. How about we just make it simple and you just avoid looking at me. Always. If you haven't noticed yet, I'm doing that to you already. Get the message and get on board the train (obviously the train heading in the opposite direction as the one I am on. durr).
  
I may have been under the weather with a touch of the 'stress induced bat-shit-crazy' virus. 

April 22, 2012 

I have not worn a real bra 4 weeks.  A sports bra for the gym. A bandeau for the rest of my existence. No makeup. Nothing. Effectively, any last glimmer of 'caring' was lost. Very very lost. 

One time I showed up to my review with Megan and she's all "oh did you just shower?"

I'm all "what's that now? No. Why do you ask?"

She's all "oh your hair looks wet."

Then I remember that my hair is soaked in coconut oil. I mean really, that could happen to anyone. I’m not going to lie though – I totally rocked that look…  Enough to convince Megan to also give her hair some coconut lovin. 

I really don't know what to say to this.  I just... Ya.  I have nothing. This was end of 4th semester.  I literally could not have cared about anything less than I did then.

October 31, 2012

Back into immigration holding area.  Big sigh of relief as I see ImmiHagBag has not returned yet.  I fill out the visa form as fast as humanly possibly.  ImmiMan stamps the shit out of it.  Hands it back to me, looks straight at me and says – “run.  Run as fast as you can.”

I really had some fatass bad luck going through immigration.  What. A fun experience that was.
 
April 23, 2013
Me, post call. Probably the ugliest side of me.  I get all curled up in bed, resume watching an episode, and one of my favorite characters dies!!! *Normal* me would be all, 'aw that's to bad'.  *Post-call* me was freaking hysterical.  Face half covered with blankets as I sob! You know what I mean? The 'ugly-cry'.  Through broken heaves and sobs I'm crying out in a deep manly voice - NOOOOOHOHOHO!! WWWWWWHY!?!? NOoooohohoNoo! Wwwwhy!!  Not. *choke on tears* Jer-e-my *choke on tears*  My eyes quickly became swollen from the fast escape of tears, which is when I finally had some voice of reason say "what is happening to you right now!? stop this! sleep!"
So I listened.  I passed out instantly.  Woke up 6hrs later - it was 3pm.  I got up to eat, and resumed watching more of the episode.  Started bawling again.  Turned it off at 5pm.  Then woke up next to my alarm at 5am to go back to work.  That's right. Do the math - I slept 18hrs.

One would think this amount of sleep would cure any illogical, unreasonably excessive emotion.

One would think.

However, add a dash of effed-up hormones to the mix and a dollop or heap of misery while in Ob-Gyn rotation

Oh OB-GYN.   You truly were my low point.  My dark, dark, low point. 


June 15, 2013
It is time to take a step back. Relax at The Lake with my family and Biffle.  Regain some perspective.  Uterus Up (lady version of 'man up'), and keep pressing on because it-is-what-it-is, and deep down I know everything will work out in the end.

Probably.

And if it doesn't - - -

I'll take out an ad in the classifieds section - Looking For Your Trophy Wife? You Just Found Her.  Fully Qualified, Class A+ Trophy Wife.  (references available upon request).
 
This still holds true. 

August 26, 2013
had a 400lb patient with severe heart failure because his little heart had to work so hard to supply his huge body, as well as a big ol' fat infected leg because he is huge and diabetic. I had the pleasure of seeing him every morning for a week and listen to him whine about one thing after another, the best being a bitch fest to me over what a terrible place this was and he was getting poor care because we didn't have an MRI machine that he could fit in.  I wanted to say, 'sir do you realize that theoretically we take people like you to the zoo to be imaged? If you don't like our care maybe try checking in there first next time.' But instead, I just had to fake empathy for 3 seconds and then examine him --- putting my stethoscope on his hairy. sweaty. oh-so-sweaty. body.  Then spend the next 10 mins disinfecting and questioning my life choices.  

Life choices. 

 

Back In Canada. Childless.

Before I get into catching up to the present, let me reverse to the past so I can give you another wonderful story from December to give a picture of the glamorous life of medicine.

Fecal.  Transplant.

The patient (recipient) comes to the colonoscopy suite prepared like any other.  Empty.

The great friend/family member (donor) goes into the bathroom and deposits their gift into a catcher.

The shit is then *blended* up with some saline... in a *standard regular blender*... then poured into a large basin.

The doc performs a regular colonoscopy, reaches the end of the colon, and then it's time for 'transplant'.  My job?  I had to take large syringes, stick them into the bucket of shit, draw up said liquid shit, pass off to doc, and assist in plunging it through the scope.  Over and over and over.

The smell was so strong my eyes literally burned.  This was one of 5 times in clinical rotations where I was actively concentrating on suppressing my gag.  A lot of shit would squirt out from the plunging site, so by the end it seemed as if shit was all over the place.  Which I know it really wasn't.  But it was far more dispersed than any adult shit should ever be.

The end result of this procedure is actually quite extraordinary to treat recurrent/treatment resistant C.diff.

However, while I can appreciate the success rates of this procedure, I never want to be actively involved in it again.  In any way.


After Urology finished in February, I went to Radiology for the month of March.  Then moved from Pontiac to Saginaw, where I stayed for 2 weeks of Geriatrics.

From Saginaw, I drove to Halifax.  Approx 1400 miles.  26hrs.  It actually went by surprisingly quickly!

I have been in Halifax for almost 5 weeks, with 1 week to go.  Even though I'm actively making plans for coming back to Alberta, it hasn't *really* sunk in that this is the real end.  It's an incredibly surreal feeling.

I am loving being back in the field of Psychiatry while in Halifax.  While this area of medicine is always throwing fascinating situations your way, I have found that living with the wonderfully, amazing, Kelly Family often does the same.

Cole, age 7.  Chloe, age 5.  Cohen, age 4.

I picked up a few catch-phrases...
From Cole ----

• "Cole go back to the mud-room and put your shoes, coat, and backpack away properly"
• "EUGH!!! WORST.  DAY.  EVVVVER." 
• "No Cole,  you cannot have the ipad"
• "EUGH!! This is the WORST day of MY LIFE!"

From Cohen ----

• After his dad gives him a snack.  As he chews very fast and is still chattering very fast.  He suddenly drops fork or whatever food he is holding, begins wailing and madly shaking his hands. 
• "ooooh buddy did you bite your tongue?" (*this happened borderline often)
• Through breaks of pain-filled sobs, he channels his pain into anger - "Daaaaaddy it's ALL  YOUR SAULT" (he can not make the 'ffff' sound and they come out as 'sss'.  As in, "I'm Sor year old and this is my sork")

• Cohen is. Adorable.  During his super sweet moments he gets cuddly, gives kisses, and lets you hug and kiss him.  These moments often lead us to say things like, "Oh Cohen you are such a sweet boy! I love Cohen kisses! Oh you're so cute!"
• These moments add up.  Cohen, while in his sweet moods, will now enter a room with a big smile, and as if to proudly announce his presence will say - "Whoooooo wants to kisssss meeeee!?"
• I predict great things for this child in grade school.  Keep it up buddy.  Keep. It. Up.

On a daily basis, for unknown reasons, Cohen would ask me how old I was.

On too numerous to count occasions, at least one of the kids would ask me if I was married and had my own kids. The conversation would go something like:

"do you have kids?"

"No. I don't"

"How come?"

"Well, because I'm still in school.  I need to finish ALL my school work."

"And then you'll have kids?"

"Well. No. Then I am going to work as a doctor and try to make people feel better when they are sick"

"And then you'll have kids?  No wait, then you have to get married first!"

"That's would be a starting point. Correct. Yes."

"AND THEN YOU'LL HAVE KIDS?!"

Knowing I couldn't crush their souls and spirits, this is where I finally cave and say:

"Sure. That's when I could have kids."

Being 26 years old, single, and childless is just *a lot* for their precious young minds to grasp.


My personal favorite moment was with Chloe during our bedtime routine.  Instead of a book, we would lay on her bedroom floor and sing her choice of 2 songs from Frozen. As we lay there giggling after singing "In Summer", she asks, "are you part of our family now?"

My own frozen heart is now a little more melted. 

I Owe You.

I feel like I owe you an explanation as to why I have not written in almost 5 months.

Here's the thing - after I finished the marathon of exams in September I went to Halifax for the addictions psych elective and had this *insane* schedule which consisted of copious amounts of free time.  9am-4pm.  No studying.  No weekends. Just show up, be present, and have an open mind.

Then, back in Baltimore for Cardiology in November and Gastroenterology in December.

Cardio hours were something like: 830 - 3, with half day Fridays.  GI was more of a shit-show (pun and no-pun intended) with longer and more ridiculous days. 

In summary, it only stands to reason that I had a whole lot of nothing going on, therefore had nothing to write you about.  Well, that, and I was incredibly lazy. 

Some highlights (or lowlights, depending on the view) since Sept 13, 2013:

Step 2 CK was incredibly long and tough.  After 9 hours, I walked out and sat in the car for 10 minutes while I stared blankly as my brain tried to comprehend what-the-what just happened to me.

The next day I had to wake up at 330am to head to the airport for the there-and-back trip to renew my visa.  The good news - I had no problem this time getting the visa, and the lovely immigration officer was all, "here, have a whole year. enjoy!"  The bad news - the friggin flight out of Montreal kept getting delayed, then more delayed, then more delayed.  I ended up being in Montreal airport for 8 hours, and in Newark for 4 hours (laying on the floor in fetal trying to stay warm in the excessively air-conditioned gate, alternating with crouching under the hand-dryer in the bathroom. Homelessness is not a good look on me).  I arrived back to my bed in Baltimore at 330am.

Went on a 20+ hour road trip with mama and papa bear to Halifax, which was actually a lot of fun and went by super fast because, as it turns out, we are extremely chatty. The most notable hour of the trip was crossing the George Washington bridge as my heart exploded from all the palpitations, and I near shit my pants.  Add on that, due to the fact that we were surrounded by concrete, the GPS kept 'losing satellite signal' (and informing us in that most irritating computer voice), so suffice to say - we took a few wrong turns, began 'winging it', and eventually found our way. No thanks to that GPS bitch.

I had the *greatest* time in Halifax for so many reasons.  Let me emphasize that more... I had the *GREATEST* time!!!   I stayed with my borderline-long-lost-now-amazingly-close-cousin, Telaina, her husband, and their 3 ridiculously loveable kids.  Between being with family, feeling a sense of belonging, living in a stunning east coast autumn, having a non-demanding work schedule, actually being appreciated at work, going back to Anne of Green Gables, and being with the Kelly family (needs mentioning twice because it was THE most wonderful part), I had the loveliest month.

My ridiculously incredible father came back to Halifax just so I wouldn't have to do the drive back to Shitamore alone.

Cardiology was... interesting?  Definitely NOT because I'm interested in cardiology, but more due to the fact that my preceptor was a 75 yr old Iranian who , after seeing morbidly overweight patients with tons of problems and unbearable joint pain (just as one example), would say, "he should just be taken out back and shot".  Really, he was actually a sweet man, but calling him "old-school" just barely skims the surface of his style.  I couldn't complain... the hours were ridiculously easy with half-day Fridays.  

GI. Oh GI. How I will *never* miss you.  My preceptor was bat-shit-crazy.  The hours were typically 730am-6pm, with quite a few days going 730-730.  In all those hours, the two other students (two sweet Canadian girls) and I did literally 1 hour of "real work".  This hour was more of a cumulative effect in the clinic over 4 or so hours.  There were only 2 computers so we would rotate with taking patients.  Our "job" was to get all the intake information from the patient and input it into the EMR this doc had - ie saving him from wasting his time doing that - then go out and report to the doc what was going on with the patient.  We would then go back into the exam room with the doctor, stand there like a friggin idiot, listen while he went over *exactly* the same questions, and stave off the annoyed gaze from the patient which seemed to scream - "you friggin idiot student! you just wasted my time!"  We really served to save time for suresies. 
Beyond our invaluable contribution to clinic patients, our 'dooties' included, but not limited to, the following:

• watching the always fascinating colonoscopy for 4-6 hours.  But don't let those numbers fool you... it felt like friggin forever. Every. Time.  What I learned from this experience is: 1.  one of the most offensive sounds to my ears (after open-mouth gum chewing, open-mouth eating, loud breathing, and eating crunchy food loudly) is snoring.  As in, I actually had to resist the urge to yell at the anesthetized patient to 'STOP THAT! STOP!'  2.  if there is one thing that is universally true, it is that farts are hilarious.  Particularly when they are coming from knocked-out patients who have no idea that they are producing some of *thee* loudest, most outrageous, farts when then sneeze, cough, or cringe.  
• During colonoscopy watching time, the doc would have me make his phone calls to patients, his equipment repair guy, his son, or really anyone he needed to get information from or relay messages to, but couldn't because his hands were busy maneuvering a long, thin, camera up someone's ass. 
• He would also have me send out emails.  Text people for him.  Reply to texts.  Search ebay for little machine parts.  Find him tickets to a particular Ravens game.  Replace the belt in one of the master printer (with instructions to 'just figure it out' and 'don't mess it up because I completely rely on this printer for business and then I'd be screwed').  Replace the fluorescent ceiling lights because "who knows when there will be another tall student".  
• Carry an endless supply of heavy boxes from the old office, load them into our cars, drive to new office, unload.  While on the topic of this 'new office'... one day after all the 'work' is done he says to us, "I need you guys to come to the new office with me because I really need your help with something".  We all meet him there, (bear in mind after a 30 min drive) and the task he just needed our help with was going from room-to-room with him as he decided where to have the "phone, fax, router" installed.  He needed three medical students to write it on a sticky note and place that note where he pointed to on the wall.  He then needed to ensure that our ability to press the sticky part of the note against the wall with the appropriate technique which would secure the greatest stickiness grasping potential, thus he would go over every note and press it down himself.  This process took a mere 2 hours.  After which, he concluded that the notes *may* not be sticky enough, so we would come back tomorrow and tape down each note.  Educated minds utilized well. 
• On much-too-many occasions he would call us away from our sitting-only-waiting-to-be-beckoned-nothingness, into his office because he "had something he wanted to talk to us about".  Once we got in there he would start to say something, but then interrupt himself, "just let me finish this", and we would watch him proceed to finish making his phone calls.  We would just sit there.  In silence.  Sometimes for up to an hour.  Our time was precious to him.   He would finish the phone calls and never-not-once did he "talk to us" about anything.  
• This concept of simply, yet disturbingly, wanting our presence around him extended into having us come to the hospital with him for rounds, consults, and procedures.  Don't let those doctery sounding words fool you into believing we were gaining anything from this.  We were there to follow him every where he went, and to do nothing.  We were affectionately referred to as his "beautiful entourage" by nurses and other doctors.  This once again highlights the bullshit of this rotation, because we were actually his "beautiful bitches".
• To top off this malted diarrhea sundae... when he wanted to get our attention or beckon us somewhere ...  he would *whistle* at us.  The same whistle melody and tone one uses to call a dog.  Did I mention we were his bitches? 

I was blessed to have had 2 weeks off to go home for Christmas.  It was the quintessential Canadian Christmas.  Beyond seeing everyone worth seeing, the highlight had to be New Years Eve playing a game, called "What", with my ridiculously-hilarious-and-insanely-disturbed-in-the-head family.  It's probably for the best there's going to be a psychiatrist in the family soon.

I am now back living in Michigan.  No more Ramada living though!  I've moved up in the world y'all.  I'm living in the super classy Extended Stay America.

January was dermatology.
This month is urology.  Friend who have asked what I'm doing right now, and I respond with 'urology', the response I keep getting over and over is... "ooooh I can't see you liking that".  They would be correct.  Although I have a pretty awesome preceptor - he's running for congress - and he totally recognizes that I do not care about urology as a future psychiatrist.  So he's just having me create a presentation on the urological implications of psychotropic medications, and study for my upcoming Step 2 CS.  I'm alright with that.