Holy Hydrocele Balls.

I'M BACK IN CANADA! 

AND I NEVER HAVE TO GO BACK TO DOMINICA. EVER. 

EVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Are you grasping the excitement in my voice?! are you? ARE YOU!!!?!?!

ohmygosh. The past few days have been so surreal and I feel as if I have robotically gone through the motions, all the while stuck in a numbed-state-of-mind.  

All of a sudden I am sitting in the Toronto airport and I'm thinking 'how the fudge-nugget did I get here?'

So let us back this crazy train up for a second...

To say that I have been a bit of an anti-social-hermit for the past while is a gross understatement. Essentially I did not leave my apartment in 3.5 weeks, except to gym (early in the morning as to avoid any crowd there), get 'groceries', study with Megan (and only megan), or to take my exams. 

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.

Another time, someone knocked at my door, I open it, and it was my landlord wanting to let a prospective new tenant girl see the apartment.  I’m all ‘of course! Come in!’ 

I answer her questions about the place. They thank me and leave.

Then I went to the bathroom and actually looked in the mirror, only to realize that I still had some mud mask left on my face (I may or may not have left it on for a good 6 hours or so) such that I looked like I had a very sickly looking derm disease.

Sadly, it did not stop there. I also happen to have had my hair in 2 side buns held in with neon colored scrunchies.  Loose buns.  Such that they were kinda just dangling like borderline amazing head accessories.

I’m going to go out on a limb and say that girl put her deposit down right after that – once she drew the conclusion that living there created an 8-shades-of-crazy beauty queen.

Bottom line. Each semester I feel I have gone deeper and deeper down the vortex of isolation.  I really out did myself this last semester.

The cumulative evidence was made overtly clear at the 4^th semester banquet.  Our “island prom”.  And it was clear on 6 different giant screens as they played a slide show presentation of all the pictures people had sent in of all the fun stuff they did.  Beaches. Hikes. Parties. Passed out in the classroom. Big groups. Small groups. A good 500 pictures or so, of which I was in li-tcher-ally none. Not one.  As the slide show keep rolling, I sat there smiling, taking it all in and thinking ‘well. That’s about right.’

And I felt nothing but content in that moment.

It was a fricken tough 16 months. And now I get to keep moving forward.

New chapter. Starting now.

xoxo

Boys In Suits. Ladies in Heat. Dignity Lost At Sea. We Hit the Trifecta.

I am going to attempt to go back and fill in some holes in stories I left. Some of which I'm sure you probably didn't even know about or even remember.

Let us first rewind to "Norman"  - there really isn't *much* involving me, but there's at least one semi-decent story I can share.... Near the beginning of the semester the Pediatric Club held a "Date Auction" fundraiser.  My "friend" (the quotations were not needed at the time of this event, but undoubtedly are appropriate now - but I digress) is a part of this club and was volunteering, so I went up with her in support. And for entertainment.  Before the auctioning began, there was a ping-pong tournament, so I was just mingling and being social - because let us be real for a second. I'm ah-mah-zing at it.
Of course I turn around and at that moment who should be walking in but Captain-American-Honey himself.  We stood around talking for a bit, which as with most people here is simply awkward small talk. When I am in these situations, I definitely have a tendency to dig deep into my bag of borderline-amazing conversational topics and pull out the trusty 'talk about school' card.  This is particularly useful here because when it comes to this, I am an overflowing fountain of chatty. As well as the fact that it has a unique way of asserting my seniority. Seniority on this island. Which is a *fleeting* moment one should take in before it slips away for a long.long.long time.
Norman asks me "are you getting auctioned off?"
I'm all "oh Norman. Nono. Nono. Just No.  I feel like it is appropriate to assume that you are though."
Which he was.
He's all "it's for the kids. Help raise some money. Bring in an extra 50ec or whatever."
I'm all "well let's not be too over-reaching here. maybe 20ec"

We parted ways and while I was across the room with some 'friends', I saw this little cute brunette nugget walk in. Eyes zero in on Norman. Smile. Walk right over to him. We all creepishly observed as if we we were watching a show on the Nature Channel about the stereotypical-mating-dance-of-the-female-in-heat.  She gazed up at him with her big-doe-eyes batting shamelessly, screaming 'want me. want me. want me' as she gave the tell tale sign of attraction: touching her hair much more than deemed normal by any standard.  It was extremely clear this brunette nugget wanted him, and wanted him bad.

The auction finally got started and it first began with this adorable guy who wore suspenders with his suit. Can't say I've ever really seen that before. Turns out - kinda cute. His time up on the auction block was fairly tame, with one girl coming up and loosening his tie a bit and taking down one of his sexy-suspenders. Sold for $500ec (185us).

Next guy up - ladies and auctioneer all having more drinks in them - got a little more involved. The auctioneer got the ladies a lap-dance if they bid 700ec. This was after his shirt was entirely unbuttoned. In the end he went for $900ec.

Norman's turn.  Girls were SCREAMING their bids out, as well as running thru the crowd to undo his shirt button-by-button.  The look on his face was priceless.  Because it was that of pure mortification. There is this one hot mess of a girl here (she has created a reputation her parents must be so proud of) who was 5 shots of tequila too many past the point where she should be allowed at any public gathering... What happens when you take an already loose girl, feed her inordinate amounts of alcohol, put a hot shirtless boy right in front of her nose, and put a 'for sale' sign over his head?? Determination. That's what.
Hot-Mess was screaming for more clothing to be taken off.  Hot-Mess was going up and taking Norman's shirt off.  If the bid was $500, Hot-Mess threw up her hand and screamed $600!!!!!!
Girl2: $625!!
Girl3: $650!!!
Girl4: $675!!!!
Girl5: $700!!!!!
Hot-Mess: $900!!!!!!

Let us not forget about brunette-Nugget.  She was most definitely a part of this bidding war. Hot-Mess may have been, well, a hot mess.... but Brunette-Nugget was sober. She was there with a clear mission. She countered with $950.
Hot-Mess scream $1000
B-N quiet and steadfast. $1100.
H-M waving arms and dancing around $1200!!!
B-N clearing getting frustrated.  You get the feeling that this is a girl who is used to getting what she wants. Her smile says 'oh it's all in fun'.  Her eyes say "I'll effing kill this girl in her sleep tonight if she ruins this for me". $1300.
H-M actually taking some time to consider the extreme she got herself in....$1400!!!
For a second I thought B-N was going to push through the crowd and right hook this girl in the ovary. Instead she just turned around, trying to regain her composure, paced around for a minute, then countered with $1500ec.
H-M finally concedes.

$1500ec.
Norman sold for $1500ec.
$567 us

I can imagine the phone call home - "Hi Mommy. Hi Daddy. Um so I'm going to need a little more money put into my account this month.... what for? oh um. well you see... I bought a boy... well obviously I thought it was a good investment for my future... no....ummm I got a dinner...the chips didn't fall *quite* the way I envisioned them..."

Whoopsies.

But it was "for the kids" after all.

Try Not To Be Jealous. I'm Just A *Really* High Functioning Person And Happen To Be Really Normal. I'm Just Naturally Blessed Like That. Please Contain Your Envy.

Once again, I am in the full shit storm of another mini season.  And I'd love to write, but the issue is, I have *too much* in my head right now that it comes out super schizo. Major underlying cause for this - other than me just  being me - is lately I haven't *just* been my crazy self. I've been my insomniac-crazy-self.  Full disclosure.  It is. not. pretty.
In light of not having enough time (cause it would take ma-ha-ny hours. and probably should be billable by a trained professional) to give you deeper insight into what I mean, I am just showing you a couple emails that have been sent. These are snippets.

This one was sent before mini 1. When I was still 'holdin it together'.  May I add, quite well.

My first exam is monday and im in full stressed out freak out mode. fine tremor in distal extremities. heart burn. 
I have no freaking filter right now. 
blurting out whatever comes to mind. walked past this douche wearing those sock shoes. and I turn to katie and said in whisper (!!) I hate those shoes. 
shes like 'girl you can't say that out loud!" im all "it wasn't loud!"
and even if he did hear. I don't care. and as if he can make the connection. I mean, I could have been talking about anyone's shoes. who's more correct in this. tell me please. me. 

In recent news... I thought I was going to get a negative P card (professionalism) today because I kinda snapped on my ICM preceptor. the woman is freaking tough. which i am all for. she likes perfection and has high expectations of us. frankly I'd rather have that than someone who is lax and I learn nothing from. her I am scared shittles-skittles. So I friggin learn. however, she crosses a line and is disrespectful and tears people down. You can be asked a question, answering correctly. She will stop you if you even take a breath, then finish to make it seem like you are an idiot and don't know the rest.  There's some people in my group who literally have shaky voices and shaky hands they get so rattled by her. 

so today she is yelling at us to feel our own thyroids. in this specific way. which i was. and she yells at me "WHY YOU NOT LISTENING. WHY YOU DOING IT LIKE THAT! YOU DO IT WRONG!"

so I look up at her. lock eyes. and  I'm all "listen. I AM doing it!" and then repeat, verbatim, what she just told us to do. and demonstated it as such. and then went 2 steps further than she had even told us (because i got together with another doc on the weekend and went thru this exam with her so that i WOULD BE PERFECTLY prepared for today!!) 
I said all of this is a sharp tone keep in mind. as soon as it was all out of my mouth. I sat there. eyes locked on hers. my head was all "shit.shit.. I'm soooo getting a P card."
but you know what. I WILL FRIGGIN GLADLY TAKE IT. I stood up for myself. and everyone else she already kicked in the balls. so be it. 

Her response. 'okay fine.'

then she kept going thru the physical exam and pointing to something and be like "why would you look here." or "what would you find in this condition". and i nailed EVERY one. 

which forced her to say over and over. yes Elle is correct. 

suck it. 

and I never got a P card. 

then I went to go tutor with katie. and there is a PBL session in there til 450 technically. and we start at 5pm. 
they were late to leave last week and we told the facilitator that we had a tutor session in there. 

so its 510. and we are still waiting. so i knock and open the door and he's like 5 more minns. so I say 'okay thats fine. but we have a tutor session in here. so thanks for keeping that in mind."  I said it respectfully!

katie was all "i cant beleive you did that!!!" 

we knew no on ewas even going to come anyway so we really didnt need the room. but I'm all 'IT'S THE PRINCIPLE!!!!"


then we waited more than 5 mins and eventually just left. so now im trying to study.

oh gawd. im totally going to end up in jail one day for murder. 

will you be my conjugal visit??


fill me in. i need a laugh.or just hearing the inner workings of a sane mind. 

obviously im long past that. and i dont think i ever really began there. so im just screwed 



This was more recent.   
I think I'm getting more and more socially awkard. It is deeply upsetting. today I got sucked into going for lunch break with the group of people I'm 'friends' with. [side note: I use friends in quotes like that because, well, they all have expiration dates and would stab me in the back if given the opportunity] and we're all sittng at the picnic table and i was being quiet. just so out of place for some reason. then all of a sudden i could feel this anxiety build up inside of me and started getting flushed. Heart pounding. and I just had to leave. so I got up. and everyones all "umm where are you going??" I practically stuttered 'i.i.i.i.just need to get back to work. bye.' 

and then walked away. 

I went to the gym this afternoon. got groceries. made dinner. showered. got ready. and was walking bck to the classroom and passed 2 guy 'friends' who were just coming back from the gym. we did the curteous stop. Which I really am just not into these days, because I have nothing to say. Small talk is ridiculous. and these are the times I'd rather just not engage. and keep walking. maybe give a head bob + 'hey'.  Not even a "how's it going", because that's rhetorical. and I really do *not* care 'how it is going', so just keep walking buddy.  
Having nothing else to say, my brain came up with 'oh you're really sweaty. good for you. mmm'


then I kinda stepped off the curb weird, and my 'friend' was like "whoa there slick' and I couldnt even come up with a sarcastic remark. just a stare. yea. that just happened. 

evidently, this is how i get when im super-intensity-intense now.  very socially awkward. this is a new thing for me. im *pretty* sure I never used to be like this. 

even at the gym, the boys were all there. I finished my run. 'normal' me would go over, have a ridiculous conversation, spoken exclusively in the language of sarcasm. Say "bye" like a normal human being living functionally in society.

but did I do that?? noooooo. I just keep my head down and run out the door.

Sooo.. this was all *before* the insomnia hit. 

xoxo

First Hospital Visit.

As I mentioned before, on Tuesday of this week I went for my first hospital rotation.  I am quite sure I will look back on this as a kindergarten-like-hospital-experience. But for now, it marks a milestone.  

We left the campus by 8am. Drive over an hour to the hospital. Get a quick introduction, and then assigned our rotations.  I was placed in Internal Medicine with 2 other colleagues and we were supposed to be shadowing the doctor for the morning.  This more or less happened.  She was coming off a night shift and was catching up on paper work, so she's all "okay I'm going to finish this... but you go talk to those patients, do a physical exam, and then we will discuss later."  So we just jumped right in there.  And it was awesome.  It was the first time I've truly felt like "omg. those things I've spent so much time studying are really in my brain, and I know how to apply them!"  Talking to real patients, getting their life stories, putting together the pieces of their puzzle and coming to the right diagnosis.  

While we were pretty much on our own, the doctor finally came over and I presented the patients to her.  We discussed differentials, diagnostic work ups, and appropriate treatment options.  

The afternoon was essentially the same, except instead I was placed on the men’s surgical ward. I was with a different doctor who was definitely more than intimidating.  Afterwards he made us debrief for a long time, present our patients to each other, and probe the more urgent/relevant questions.  He was incredibly harsh, but in the best sort of way. He had his own high level of expectation and he was going to get - it even if he almost made one guy cry (I'm pretty sure he cried when he got home though).  You just guard-your-nutsack and take it because it wasn't personal.  I walked out of that debriefing feeling like I learned more with that man in 30 mins than I could just studying for 100hours. 

I wish I could have pictures to show you all, because I am *not* going to do this justice... this hospital in and of itself is heartbreaking.  It's third-world. I walked into the ward and it was a definite "oh. my. gawd." moment.  It was basically an extra wide hallway. Very very sick patients crammed in there.  The beds are what we would consider 'cots'.  There are no complete walls.  It's all open to the outside and the fans and cross breeze are all you get.  

Randomly, all the nurses wear totally white outfits, white tights, complete with those stereotypical white nurse hats that you have to pin in.  

The only hospital I have seen so far worse than this one was during YWAM outreach in Vanuatu. 

I was told by several people (who know I am 99% sure I am staying in Dominica for 5^th semester) that as soon as I do my hospital days here I would change my mind.  Everyone typically comes back from PMH days and thank the Good Lord they are out of there and off this island in 60 days (as the countdown stands now).  However, I truly feel it is a unique and amazing opportunity to get experience in a hospital like this. I’ve always wanted to do medical missions, so why would I shut away being able to start here? Plus, I'll be able to have a lot more hands on experience during 5^th… seeing as they don’t care * quite * as much about, you know, laws and regulations, and such. 

Getting a bit off topic, but point being, I had an amazing experience on Tuesday.  It was incredibly hot and exhausting. My feet were swollen like a MoFo. I friggin had Charlie-horse-cramps in my calves the rest of the night, as I lay motionless in bed.  Turns out there was not a lot of time for eating and drinking all day. 

I am definitely still catching up on the week.  Having a mini exam takes A LOT out of you.  It really takes a couple days to recover from them. But there was no time for that this time with having hospital the next day.  But I think I finally made up for it – last night I was sleeping (non-drug induced!!) before 7pm. Yes. That is correct. 7pm.  And slept in till 740am this morning.  Grandma status: Check Check.

Sometimes I Feel like I have Dissociative Identity Disorder Which Makes This Story Slightly Random. And Long Overdue. And Not Very Good. I Apologize.

I hope you have not forgotten about me. I keep meaning to write, but then I remember that nothing has really happened, and I am actually sort of boring.  Which is lame to think about, let alone write about and subject you to read about.


Me writing this now doesn't actually mean something of ridiculous significance has happened, but out of fear of pissing of people who *claim* they check for a new update everyday (to which I call balderdash) I am going to write about the little insignificant things. And pray they mesh together to form something worthy of your approval. But then again, I'm not what you would call 'a-people-pleaser' so technically I don't actually give two-little-pebble-sized-deer-poops. I'm going to write. You're going to read. It will bond us.


So this one starts at the beginning of last semester... a new pack of fresh meat. "The Firsties". Brought forthwith a boy.  A boy I named Norman.  Norman is the 'all-american-boy'.  A southern boy. Accent included.  Sweet predisposition included.  QB of the football team.  All nicely packaged up into a tanned, toned, 6-pack ab body. With the muscular V thing. You know what I'm talking about?  The one that make Smart girls Stoopid.


Have you ever seen girls swoon over a boy?  I have. Thanks be to American-Honey-Norman.  It was as if over night ever girl on campus knew him. loved him. wanted him. were all over him.  And in my head he knows it.  So of course I find it all very obnoxious.  Partly why I named him Norman.  My brain, no matter how overcome with IslandFever, will not fall for someone named Norman.


Being in first semester meant that Jen and Rene knew him already.  I guess you could say they were 'good acquaintances'.  Which meant that on at least 2 occasions I was introduced to him.  I like to think I make remarkable first impressions, but I have come to find this is far from the realm of reality (which I have also learned is almost enough to meet a criterion for 'bizarre delusion', which would meet a requirement for schizophrenia. all of which is deeply upsetting. but I digress).


The semester flies by, and once again it comes time for the party-of-the-semester: Splash Bash.  Which was after the "big game", ie football final game between 1st/2nd semesters (american-honey-QB) and 3rd/4ths.  Upper semesters dominated.  It was *highly* entertaining.  In that it really wasn't.  However, I can't deny the slight entertainment value in seeing how upset boys get over losing a football game that literally means nothing (but act like its the Stanley Bowl Super Cup).


I got together with the girls.  Wine was had. Complete with our own dance party in Jen's apartment.

We headed over to the Pre-Pool-Party.  I need to remind you all that I live in the schedule of an 85 year old - in that I prefer to be tucked in bed by 9, sleeping by 10pm, and up much before the sun. So when it is passed my bedtime and I've had a few glasses of wine, my brain is floating in a happy sea of over-tired-delirium. 
 [NOTE: I started this post what feels like a life-time ago.  Have been way too busy. And in the spirity spirit of just getting this stupid thing over with, the rest of this story is going to be quick and messy. forgive me.]                                                                                                                                one point I'm near Norman, so we start talking.  I comment on the game. blahblahblah. I felt like he was looking at me with a 'you're not cool enough to be talking to me' look. So I'm all "do you even know who I am?" He's all "yea. Jen's friend"
"Yes. that is correct. but what is my name hotshot?"
"Ummm... I'm sorry I don't know."
"Well that's a shocker.  That's alright though. I just call you Norman. Cause you look like a Norman to me. You're cool with that right?"
"Umm no. no not really."
"oooo. well thaaaaats too bad. Cause it's caught on."


Then I turned and walked away.  Leaving poor Norman so unaware of what just happened.  


So of course, since that happened, I run into this kid EVERYWHERE. The first time post-splash-bash was a curtesy 'hey! how's it going?'  Both of us with a big 'yes-that-really-happened' acknowledgement smile.  
 


There's a bit more to this story. But I have a lot of shit to catch up on (and I mean that in the sense that we are in GI module again, and all week have had lectures on diarrhea. oh so much talk about poop. oh poop, you've bested me once again). 
I have catching up to do because we had our first block exam on Monday. Tuesday I was at hospital rotation all day (which I'll write about later). Wednesday turned into 15 hour lecture/work day. Thursday was writing my hospital paper, ICM, SIM. Yesterday was all day lectures and still trying to catch up on Wednesday's shits.  Then make the brilliant decision to go to a White-Out-Highligher-'Gathering' last night. And now I delirium tremors. 


xoxo

It's In The Little Things

I am slightly OCD over certain things. one of them being chemicals in 'beauty products' and in food. This raises a problem when you bring a new set of particular shampoo/conditioner to your thirdworldy island. only to have that shampoo/conditioner more-or-less-poison you through a non-chemical poison. forcing you to get rid of it. and thus brings me to ration off the last of my 'healthy' shampoo.  its a sad moment in a girl’s life when she is standing in the shower filling up the empty shampoo bottle with water, shaking it, hoping to get just a little more out of that poor bottle, pouring foamy water on her head in place of a good lather. This sad girl happens to be me. Trust me - I looked at every single effing bottle of shampoo they have stocked here. and every single one has sodium-laryl-sulfate plus a half-million other badshit indgrients. and I just can NOT bring myself to buy it. I just can't. I've had it in my hand. Standing in the aisle being all 'come on it won't kill you... at least not right away... it will be fine... it is a known skin irritant though... and may cause hair loss... shit... my skin hates me so obviously it would be even more pissed off if I let this touch it...nooo I'm sure it will be fine... go to the check out... don't think about it...NO I can't do it!!"

Then I get heart burn. And throw the bottle back on the self. Tell all the shampoos they are all assholes and can suckit. Turn and walk away.  

I'm sure people have seen me do this. And obviously they stop and watch the batshitcrazy girl in the grocery store having an angry conversation with the shampoo.  Full disclosure. This also happens in the peanut butter aisle.  Even though I have checked close to 394 times, I still look at the ingredients and see added hydrogenated oils and sugar and salt and I'm all "you bastard!!! Why would you do that to yourself!?!" 

On another note - I've seen way too many of those HORRID, disgusting, offensive, nauseating 'five-finger-sock-running-shoes' that certain guys insist on wearing.  I do not understand them.  Apparently they are supposed to be good for running?  Fine – whatever, but why then do these people wear them on just an average day. I thought I left behind the days of stomach-turning-shoe choices burning my eyes when I said goodbye to the socks-and-birkenstock-wearing-sweedhearts of Victoria. It appears this may be a life long battle my eyes have to go through. 

Your toes look stupid all separated like that.  And you as an entire person look. Ridiculous. And not the good kind.

So I had my practical exams on Tuesday. Mini 3 (cardio/respiratory) was yesterday (Wednesday).  Now I just have to study for the final and I’m home free.  I have never been so excited for winter in my entire friggin life.  I want it all. The snow. The cold. The Christmas lights. Decorated tree. Gingerbread lattes. Fireplace.  If it is in the book of cliché Christmas traditions, you can bet your toned ass I will be partaking.

However, they may be a potential bump in place for the journey home.  You see, Liat, the carribean ‘airline’ (they pretend to be at least. I’m pretty sure their CEO is satan trying to ruin peoples lives) has gone on strike.  Yes, all their pilots called in sick. No flights. So I am reaching out to you all for some extra prayers they resolve this before Wednesday.  Otherwise I’m effed.  OR, if you happen to know a helicopter pilot or any other type of pilot that just happens to be in the Caribbean… you let me know.  Maybe get me lifelifted out of here. I’m pretty sure this constitutes an emergency situation.

Anyway, this post was kinda all over the place cause I started it on one train of thought. Then forgot about it for a bit, tried to pick it back up. If it appears schizo that may be why. 

 Keep the airline shiznit in mind and think good thoughts. Send out those prayers.

Back to studying.

xoxo