Switching reading modes

Currently I'm reading hard boiled crime fiction.  It's amazing how poorly I'm doing it.

I skim quickly down the page.  Looking for keywords.  Trying to grasp the concept and move on to the next paragraph as soon as possible.  As always, I'm sensing potential test questions and significant phrases...

Oh wait I'm still in med school.  In a book like "The Big Sleep," by Raymond Chandler, the plot itself is quite thin and few events actually occur.  The value of these books is in the details, NOT, as I am accustomed to, the main point.  Every sentence drips with descriptive phrases and unconventional comparisons: not very conducive to fast reading, but strongly effective at making me realize that I need to SLOW DOWN and enjoy it.  Here are some passages that I spent minutes digesting.

"This is a small gun, kid.  I'll give it you through the navel and it will take three months to get you well enough to walk.  But you'll get well.  So you can walk the nice new gas chamber up in Quentin."

"The girl stopped rigid and screamed.  A beautiful thin tearing scream that rocked me like a left hook."

"Mars flicked the Luger out and pointed it at my chest. 'Open the door.'  I didn't move.  The muzzle of the Luger looked like the mouth of the Second Street tunnel.  But I didn't move.  Not being bullet proof is an idea I had had to get used to."

Unique baby names

Upcoming parents listen up.  This kitschy effort to be more creative by taking a perfectly okay name and contorting it with extra letters and strange substitutes?  It condemns your poor child to a lifetime of respelling his name, explaining its origins, and assuring people that no, my parents were not illiterate.

Extra annoying: these bizarre spellings change the pronunciation.  Kahtherryn is, in the end, still Catherine.  Why change the spelling in the first place?

Jargon that needs to go

The continued proliferation of flatbread is a source of concern and mystery for me.  Has regular bread gotten too puffy for everyone?  Also: touching bread before handing it to me does not make it "artisan."

"Just Sayin"  These two little words are innocuous enough on their own; together, they are poison.  On the outside these words look harmless until you take a closer look and see the danger of using them.  The way this phrase is used is in the form of a pulled punch.  It jars the listener between offended and placated states, while ultimately leaving it up to him to decide on the final interpretation. Those who use this phrase need to realize how cowardly it appears.
"I'm going to say something offensive, but by adding these two words, I won't have to take responsibility for it."

Breakthrough OMM

I applied muscle energy to my own wrist and it works fantastically! 

I've suffered from creaking, stiff wrists for years.  I've tried everything from massage to cortisone shots to surgery without significant benefit.  Last night, while bored at a social gathering, I used the techniques I had learned in school on supinating and pronating my wrists.

I couldn't believe it when immediately the tension seemed to release!  I was so excited for many reasons.  Of course I knew there was a way to apply OMM to the wrists.  I had planned to schedule an appointment with the faculty to help me.  But that takes months to get in for a 30 min appointment.  The problems I have are due to many years of repeated stress; they couldn't be solved in a session.  So I was doubly happy because here is something that I can do myself, daily, whenever I feel like it.  Moreover, it's great to experience the benefits of what I am learning, firsthand.  It really refreshes my faith in the system and encourages me to pursue the art further.

Journey to D.O.-hood: 1/8 of a doctor

Thanks to my wonderful classmate for documenting everything we learned this semester.  It surprises even me to look at all we've done:
Journey to D.O.-hood: 1/8 of a doctor

Semester 1 complete

At a going away party for two of the professors, there was an open mic for those who would like to say goodbyes.  As faculty went up and made their speeches, one of my classmates surprised us all by stepping forward.

She had barely made it to the podium when she started crying!  In between sobs, we heard her story: one of the leaving professors had been her first proctor during practicals.  The other was a fantastic lecturer.

But the real reason for the sudden emotional release? Today marked the end of the first semester of medical school, as well as the release of grades.  Emotions are hot right now.  It's understandable right?  We've been pushing for so long, grinding away dutifully, all for a number.  We've been pacing ourselves like a marathon runner, but with a constant fear: is our speed is fast enough?  Today, we found out if it was.

That barrier we push at has been suddenly and abruptly removed.  At this moment, there's a slight hesitation to relax, worried that I might get too accustomed, too comfortable.  We've spent these months developing methods and habits that work for the lifestyle of a medical student.  And we all know, good habits are easier to destroy than to build.

I'm going to do my best to relax this break and establish a clear divide between my school persona and my......other half? I don't have a name for it, and I'm not sure if I even have one.  But I do know that this break is as good a time as any to make one.

SP Encounter

I know what you're thinking, but no: I didn't travel back in time.

This week, we had our doctoring final in the form of a Standardized Patient (SP) Encounter. Our task was to perform a full physical exam on a stranger in 15 min. I had rehearsed the moves through the entire semester and felt ready.

However, through the week, rumors were spread about how difficult the test was. Especially, students were not able to finish the exam on time. I couldn't imagine the case as I practiced with my roommate each day, achieving average times of 10 minutes.  That the testing situation would take 50% more time?  Inconceivable.

Regardless, tensions grew as more and more people reported magnificent crash-and-burn attempts.  Unexpectedly, my rehearsals grew worse as we tried to incorporate the new suggestions.  The changes felt arbitrary, unnatural.  The night before the big day, I ran my worst exam ever, forgetting to report numerous steps.

The stage was set for uncertainty.  As is ritual on exam days, that morning I had an extra large breakfast (eggs, oatmeal, yogurt, toast, strawberries, blueberries, banana, pineapple).  In the waiting room, I watched my classmates scramble through rehearsals with last-minute intensity.   I closed my eyes and emptied my mind, trying to purge all predictions but the one I intended.

The exam started slowly.  I had trouble building up momentum.  There were no more reassuring nods from the patient, no safety net of notes on the computer behind me, no familiar normal findings.  Forced to tell this patient that yes, she was abnormal.  I was going so slowly!  She wouldn't take off her socks when I asked....I needed to check the feet! Would it be ok if I didn't check?  But she said no!  Come on, move on, must keep going, I wasn't going to get any help.  Wait, I think I'm on the wrong side of the table.  But I'm not sure....quick, think back to the practice at home.  Didn't JG have to lie at the foot of the bed? Yeah....I'm on the wrong side!

2 minute warning came and I'm still working.  I ignore it and continue on.  This is when I shine, when the pressure is on.  I can hold composure.  That's what I tell myself is my redeeming quality.  Time to test if it's true.

At this point, I'm expecting the final call to come at any moment.  The moment the final report left my mouth, the loudspeaker blared the end of the session. I took exactly 14:59 minutes.

Perfection couldn't come any sweeter.

Medical Students at Work

My alternate project

I'm going to start a television company.

We offer custom made televisions that conform to your house.  We start with a free consult.  We'll go to your house and survey your living room and make measurements.  We'll take color palettes and analyze the sound and visual dynamics of the room you wish the TV to be in.  We will then custom create a TV that meets your dimensions, style, and color.

The name of this company?  Indivisual.

Blood type

The universal donor is blood type O.  Those with blood type O can donate blood to anybody, but they can only receive from O. The universal acceptor is AB.  AB blood can only be given to AB, but they can receive from any type.

Most people are aware of this, but did you know that O is also the most common blood type (47%), while AB is very rare (3%)?

This surprised me.  Ever since Dr. Jack Shephard searched desperately to find a blood donor for Boone Carlyle, I assumed O was the rarest blood type because of its selfless nature.  That which is valuable should also be rare, no?  At least, that's what I learned, growing up in this society, where companies destroy diamonds in the interest of prices.

I would love to be able to see the world in a perspective where the common was also the best.  I think medicine is one of those rare fields where that is the case.  Non remarkable, negative, and insignificant: outside the examination room, we strive to rise above these levels, but in this business, these are the words you want to hear.

I'm glad I made the right career choice!

Predispositions

I'm not sure why, but I have this subtle but significant dislike of people who carry certain traits.  This can build up to the point that I sometimes go out of my way to either avoid or aggravate them, the latter usually leading to dysfunctional behavior.  I recognize that this feeling is irrational because these physical attributes shouldn't be an indicator about the character of a person.  But, as I've found out, they most often are.

To those that are privileged, spoiled, rich, excessively beautiful: I am not interested in helping you. You have access to a whole population of chumps who are eager to wait on you, hand and foot.  Leave me out of that group, thank you very much.

A wry plan

I have a bottle of Martinelli's Sparkling Apple Cider in the refrigerator right now.  I bought it, planning to open it on a special occasion, when I had something to celebrate.  It's been three weeks and I can't find a reason to open it.

The way it looks now, I doubt I'll use it after these exams.

Study Music

I've listened to every genre while studying.  From light instrumental (soundtracks), to electronica (Kaskade), to techno (Sasha), to post rock (Explosions).  But at this time of my life, when studying is the most important, I've come full circle.

Classical music.  Right now, Dance of the Blessed Spirtis (from 'Orpheus and Eurydice') is playing in the background, and I suddenly recognize the middle portion (which I only knew as Melodie) as an excerpt that I played in countless competitions and scholarships.  To this day, it is still a piece that I play after a long day, when I need to clear my mind and refresh my body.

Thank you to everyone involved in my musical career.  Although I've moved on, those memories will never leave me.  The experiences gained from those competitions are an extra detail that I find creeping into my present work.  I understand why I'm so comfortable under pressure, why I feel the rush of excitement when all eyes are on me.  I can see why I am searching for perfection, but happily accepting to never find it.

Fame

The scene: my first day volunteering at the Student Run Health Clinic.

I've completed my ENT exam and am reporting to the supervisor.  She is about to sign off when she sees my name.

"Hmmmm SP....I've heard that name before.....did you do something recently? Did you win an award?"

If there ever was a time for my eyes to glint, this was it.  "I'm the President of the Class of 2014."

She smiles: "I suppose I will be seeing much more of you in the future.  I'll remember you."

Remember my name.  I remember yours.

Passing the torch

Elections are over, and suddenly there is a group of people who can help me.

I really appreciate the ability to delegate.  I've usually had a bit of trepidation before making any request, as I always recognize the potential for someone to refuse.  This has been more prevalent when dealing with stubborn administration and old fashioned students.  They are very content with what they have and are not as receptive to change, good or bad.  Usually, I simply do the work without asking.  I become stronger, I get results, when I do things myself.

But I've been lucky enough that the other elected students are people that I connect with.  We have a similar vision to what we wish to accomplish in our role and thus understand and support each others' efforts.  Because of this, I trust them to accomplish tasks that I traditionally would have done myself.

As a tourguide, I have the chance to share with potential students a pep talk near the end.  Here's what I say:

"I hope you enjoyed the tour of our school's buildings and facilities.  However, unfortunately we did not get a chance to see the best part of the school.  But that's something that no one can see, only experience.  The best part of the school is the student sitting beside you.  We have diversity that connects us, strengthens us, and sustains us through midnight cram sessions and sleep deprived mornings.  We have a community where students share notes, where students confess academic difficulties, where students trust and work with each other.  That's what makes the school great...and I hope you get the chance to be a part of that.  Good luck with interviews!"

Child abuse

Being a bystander is so frustrating for me.

I am waiting in the checkout line at Safeway.  I see a middleaged white woman walking towards me with an 8ish black girl by her side.  They get into line behind me.  The girl starts to complain and cry about the juice carton being too heavy.  I look at the magazines, trying not to be awkward and stare.  And then the woman kicks the girl in the shin.

Instantly I'm on alert.  The girl starts to cry more.  The woman laughs at her and taunts her tears.  "Cry a little harder and those tears just might mean something."  The girl asks, "Why are you being so mean today Mom?" and struggles to hold the juice carton.

First I feel awkward.  Then shocked.  Slowly but surely, I'm furious!

I don't know the background, the circumstances.  But there is no situation that deserves this kind of treatment.  The future ramifications for such treatment are huge!  I want to say something, anything, to either the woman or the child.  But what can I possibly say that will make any significant difference?

Finally, I clear some space on the conveyor belt and offer it to them to set their groceries down.

I'm sure I will encounter this sort of situation again.  I need a better plan of action for the next time.

Hello, Drama!

I can understand emotions.  I've certainly felt my share of them, good and bad.

I can understand sulking.  When upset, I run away and am antisocial until I kick myself out of it.
I can understand resentment.  I've harbored certain grudges for longer than I should, choosing to ignore extenuating circumstances.
I can understand anger.  I have a short temper and can remember physically trembling with rage, not too long ago.
I can understand jealousy. I've obsessed over pictures and AIM logs.

What I can't understand is when bystanders condone and cater to these illogical behaviors.  If he walks, talks, and acts crazy, treat him like he's crazy.

Why I Like Indians

After a surge of Bollywood (Namesake, Slumdog Millionaire, My Name Is Khan) in my life, I have a theory:

In the US, Indian and Chinese males share similar media portrayals.  Both are often stereotyped as socially awkward, inarticulate, highly intelligent, and undersexed characters.  I'm sure you can quickly call to mind an actor that matches at least 2 of these traits.

Now, when I see a movie with a Chinese stereotype, I can feel myself bristling in defense.  As I like to tell everyone, I see right through the illusion!  I resolve to fight the preconceived notions that people will undoubtedly create before they meet me!  I will tear down the negative stereotype of Asians, all by myself. 

But when watching an Indian stereotype, I start slipping into a mode of understanding, of expectation.  I let myself nod my head, as if this is what I expected, this is how it's supposed to be. It takes a few minutes for me to realize that I'm committing an equal injustice to a very similar minority group.

I'm seeing that Indian through the same lens that a white person views me.  Subconsciously collecting all  previous depictions of his race and projecting them upon him.  It takes active effort to clear my mind of the expectations. I know what I'm doing and how harmful it is.  But that doesn't prevent the thought from intruding.

Maybe I should cut people some slack for generalizing.  The human subconscious is too powerful and too sneaky to ignore.

Or I need to redouble my efforts...

Going home

When the scenery goes from endless highway to recognizable landmarks.

When the signs start to say "Santa Maria 30mi"

When the favorite radio stations become receivable.

When the ocean comes into view on my right.

When I use my housekey for the first time in years.

When I walk on the cold hardwood floor.

When I switch on the flickering, fluorescent kitchen lights.

When I am surrounded by comfortable messiness, random structure, undetectable organization.

When I approach bookshelves crammed with children's series.

When I spot cardboard boxes full of Legos.

When I wash my hands with soft water.

When I hear my dad's signature callout.

I know I'm home.

Refresh

Block 2 coming up, just need a quick moment to refresh, I have a few entries that I haven't posted, didn't have the time to edit them, but they're sitting saved, ready for my own review:

I was told by a close friend that others consider me fake, that I try too hard.  I was really disturbed by this comment at first, especially because I'm actively trying for the opposite effect. I tried to understand from their viewpoint and this is the best explanation I could come up with.

1) Some people consider it fake because they wouldn't be able to do it without faking. Split personalities are observed because I tailor my interactions to each person I talk to.  Just because I don't talk to you the way I talk to others does not mean I'm being fake.  I can adapt my style to others and I will not allow my own emotions or biases to negatively affect the conversation. 

2) What they see as trying too hard is me performing normally.  They believe that they would have to try too hard to do what I do, thus I must be trying too hard as well.  What I'm doing right now? This is second nature for me.  I compete fully at every moment.  Because if I didn't, I would feel like I'm cheating myself or others by not utilizing my potential.  Plus, by doing so, I find and push my limits.  I'm giving everything I can right now, yes.  But I always do that.  Enjoy the benefits.
 
I understand that it's natural for people to be suspicious, because they are worried that there's a catch.  I'm fine with that; in life, there usually is.  But they haven't known me before.  I hope they give it some time and see the consistency that I bring.

But he also brought up an interesting point.  I have few lasting friendships.  For all the popularity, I am pretty sure that I won't be talking to these classmates after we graduate.  And I'm not bothered by that.  But others are.  It doesn't make sense, and I suppose I stopped trying to figure it out.

more to follow on this subject.  The task at hand is to focus and find those who I can trust.

Hurdle 1 clear

Mid-Block exam 1 complete!  I feel very happy about how I did.  A few lucky guesses, a lot of preparation, and practiced inner calm (refraining from panic from an unknown question) should contribute to a solid score on the first test of med school.  I completed 90 question in 90 minutes.

I had a moment during the exam, at about the halfway point, where I was consciously aware of my situation.  Call it an out of body experience.  The gravity of the situation dawned on me.  Here I was taking a medical school exam, with the top 1% of the country.  I realized how foreign the language was, how strange the sentences were worded, that I had to decipher every root of every word in order make light of the answer. But I was also aware that I have the ability to read through the code.  It was very satisfying to leap into a question with no direction and burrow my way out with the correct answer.

Details:

For the first 15 questions, the lights were low.  I had to strain my eyes every time I lifted my hand to block in an answer choice.  Very distracting.

My instincts are correct most of the time, but I continually disregard them.  At some point, I need to give into them fully.

I had the song "Just the Way You Are" by Bruno Mars stuck in my head through the whole time.  I actually spaced out for about 20 seconds in order to run through the chorus.

Verses

We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.

Therefore do not lose heart.  Though outwardly we are wasting away, inwardly we are being renewed day by day.  For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen.  For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.

2cor4

First test of medical school

As I watch my fellow classmates freak out about our first midblock exam, I feel myself drawn into contagious panic.  It seems like the right thing to do; isn't it natural to be anxious in the face of uncertainty?  None of us know exactly what the structure of the quiz is.  There are 90 questions in two hours.  This doesn't leave much time for improvisation.  The curriculum has had a makeover and none of our previous exams accurately reflect the upcoming test material.

There is too much to learn.  Too many subjects across too many fields.  We cannot grasp it all at once.  We are swimming in unstructured facts, mired in indecision.  We lack direction.

But when I take a step backwards and look at the situation, it looks a little smaller.  Another few steps, and it shrinks even more.  Gradually, I begin to see the entire situation, all at once.  Getting my bearings, I now dive inwards, from the outside in, and the problem is more manageable.

The Litany of Fear:
I will not fear.  Fear is the mind killer.  Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration.  I will face my fear.  I will allow it to pass over me and through me.  And when it has passed I will turn the inner eye to look upon its path.  Where it has gone there will be nothing.  Only I will remain.

Med school so far:

I'm getting lucky.  These first three weeks are a quick review of what I've learned in the last 2 years.  So far I don't think I've learned anything entirely new.

That is, in class.  Student government and club organization have been my side projects for now.  It's a fun way to keep busy.  I think that I really enjoy watching bonds grow between us students, from that first day of orientation, when we were all confused and scared, to a well oiled machine pre midblock exams.  We are uploading study notes on a daily basis, editing online google documents 20 at a time, overall, really coming together as a cohesive team.

Also, we are utilizing every available piece of technology.  I've dreamed of purchasing a zoom h4 audio recorder.  Now, in my IT workstudy position, I use one every day to record and upload lectures.

One struggle that I'm working on:  I found that financial aid only delegated $1500 to me for workstudy fall semester, $3000 total for the year.  I was expecting $12000 for the year.  This will not be enough to cover my living expenses and it really bothers me that I need to seek another source of income.  I only can work 4 hrs a week and I need more.  The financial aid office told me to check back next week.  I marked it on my gcalendar and will receive an email reminder to remind them next Tuesday.

History Taking

Thanks to Dr Wikholm and my time in his office, today's lecture on how to take a history is pretty much obsolete to me.

My first weekend of med school is coming up.  I'm curious to see how much I can let go of what I've been studying, if only for a few hours.  I've been having trouble lately allowing myself to relax.  When I'm supposed to be "having fun" (aka watching TV, attending social events), I've had my studies occupying half of my mind.  I hope people haven't noticed that they're only getting 50% of my attention.

One week over

Not much time to report in, but I do want to say thank you to all my Hancock professors.  We're going through a rapid tour of the entire body, covering major landmarks, and Dr Miyahara did a great job prepping me for all of the material.  Before each class I feel an adrenaline boost, like I'm on the cusp of something big.

This is it.  I'm here.  Time to do my job.

Benefits for long time subscribers

I just recorded a message to myself on the eve of med school.  I plan to store it safely and play it back 4 years later.  At first I tried to write a script, but I didn't make two sentences before I decided to turn the camera on and start recording.  I wanted to capture the raw emotion of the moment.  I wasn't articulate, I wasn't witty.  I was myself at that moment.

I'll post it here in 4 years.

Orientation recap

Typing this during an IT and library talk during orientation.

Yesterday was a trip.  The setup: orientation from 7:30-5pm.  Biostatistics final from 4-6.  Finals the next two days as well.  Oh, did I mention it was my birthday?

The day started with a "continental breakfast."  I kept my morning ritual of apple oatmeal, and I was glad I did.  The food was nestle yogurt and bite sized muffins.  Half the students had to sit on the floor!  I was shocked that the school did not plan for those students to have a seat at a table, especially since half of the gym was still open space.

It ended with one hundred and fifty public introductions. We would go up for about 2 minutes each and speak an impromptu message. It was an interesting concept, but unfortunately, those in the back were not paid much attention after 4 hours.  Also, there was only a limited amount of information that we could be given, aka school, hobbies, tennis, music, blah blah blah.  And probably about 80% of the students aren't used to speaking in front of 149 other people with an unprepared speech.  These factors combined led to a very monotonous, tiring time.  After 20 people, I get it: Everybody loves sports, everyone loves eating, right?  I'd love to get to know my new classmates, but this was not an efficient way to do so.

Poem assignment

To be turned in to the dean before Friday:

I stand in the doorway.  Accomplishments shine behind me.  Imagination beckons before me.  

Fear and doubt shake my resolve.  I imagine failure. I picture defeat.

I resist the familiar and safe past.  I choose to pass through and anticipate nothing. 

Such is the choice I make. It is foolish and irrational, I realize.  I am not a gambling man. I do not make moves unless I am certain.

For I am uncertain of my performance.  I may fail.  My best may not be good enough.

But I am gambling for a prize that is worth the smallest of chances.

New things I appreciate

I just moved in to a new house.  Noticed a few things:

1) My landlord doesn't wash his dishes immediately.
2) People look at me like I'm crazy when I ask about house rules.
3) The bathroom is cramped and small.  But it's mine.
4) I have to drive 15 minutes to school on two highways.
5) The shoe closet is unorganized and messy.

I love it.  Freedom is sweet.

First words

After two days of silence, the landlady takes the initiative:

JJ: SP, Ingrid and Kim came by today.  Do you know who they are?
SP: Yeah I remember: they're your past....people....

I nearly said victims.

My own inception

I've talked about my landlady issues to many people over the summer.  Most asked me, "Why don't you fight back?"  The inaction confuses me as well, for I consider myself a prideful person.  I definitely feel the anger build up each time.  I know all the things I want to say.  and for some reason, these feelings bubble up, simmer down, and I'm left wondering, "What's the point?"

But yesterday was the closest I came to uncontrolled rage.  She walked into the kitchen while I was preparing breakfast.  Turned off the lights.  I turned them back on.  The ensuing dialog:

JJ: You are being wasteful and inconsiderate.  Turn off the lights.

SP: I'm cooking right now.  Besides, I'm paying for utilities, aren't I? 

JJ: No you're not.  I pay for utilities, you just pay for rent.  If I had know you were such a wasteful person, I would have charged extra for utilities. Thank God this is your last week.  I wouldn't be able to put up with this for much longer.

SP: *silence

JJ: Why did you turn that light back on?  That's passive aggressive bullshit right there.  Jesus Christ.  That shit don't work on me, I'm not in second grade.  I'm turning it off now.  It's daytime right now.  You don't need the light on.

SP: *silence (at this point my hands started shaking and my pulse was rising)

Went on a 11 mile hike to try to clear my mind.  I couldn't; the thought was stuck in my mind. I kept searching for the right thing to say to "solve" the situation.  I felt responsible because I didn't take any action, and I believed there was something I could have done that would have "worked."

That night, I had a strong dream.  In it, I was trying to convince my little sister to stop her recreational drug use.  It was something mild that I knew would escalate to something more serious. She wouldn't listen, and I was so frustrated.  

I feel like I played both sides that day and night.  Defense and Offense.  And I failed at both.

Don't rush

In music, the titular words are a golden rule, because as stress built up, we lose control and speed up.  I see now that the same rules apply in public speech.

I had a presentation last night that I had planned extensively.  I rehearsed my speech, designed my powerpoint, and timed myself to the limit of 5 minutes.  I went in slightly nervous, enough to know that I cared and was ready.  I was the second of eight presentations.

The speech started off great.  All eyes were up, hands raised when I had planned them to, laughter arose on cue.  I started getting that familiar rush of adrenaline, the one when I know that there are high expectations, and I am meeting them.

Suddenly, I see the teacher lean forward and whisper, "Time, time!"  I was shocked, for I was only about 3/4 of the way through.  But I had to finish!  I went into overdrive mode and started churning information off the slides.  I finished the remaining quarter of the presentation in about 30 seconds.

When I finished and sat down, I saw her stopwatch (she was sitting directly in front of me).  It read "7:08."

I was upset at myself.  I didn't think I had gone that long, and in practice I had never reached that time.  The idea that time had snuck up on me, unaware, bothered me.  I thought I had covered all the details and time was the least of my worries.

But as I watched her continue to time the students, I noticed a few funny things.  Firstly, everybody after me went 6-8 minutes each, and she didn't say a word.  I think she realized that everybody was going over, and decided not to fight it anymore.  Furthermore, she started the clock immediately after the previous student finished, not at the start of the first word. The setup added about one minute to each presentation.

My lesson to my past self: When it comes time to perform, don't adjust to the outside.  I should have continued at my deliberate pace unless she outright told me to stop.  Speeding up accomplished nothing.  Even if I had gone overtime, I'd prefer to abruptly stop in the middle of a great presentation, rather than finish at the end of a rushed one.

That would leave them wanting more, which is usually a good thing.

As promised: pictures!

Some recent recipes: an omelet/scramble hybrid, and a Chinese Five Spices (Wu Xiang) beef shank

Tricky Statistics

I had a brain disconnect today on my biostats midterm. Thankfully, there was 3 hrs time, and I was able to catch my mistakes.

1) If I just did a F test and found that the variances were equal, why oh why did I perform the t test for two independent samples with unequal variances?

2) If the t is within the critical values, the p value is going to be LARGER than alpha, not smaller. I spent a half hour figuring this one out. Finally figured it out, and failed to reject H naught.

Coincidence?

It's my zodiac year, the Year of the Tiger.

One of my lifelong dreams came true this year: I was accepted to medical school.

The first day of medical school? On my birthday, August 2.

Waiting with a stranger

The situation: I arrive at a house in a strange neighborhood. I am there to meet the landlady and look at the house. The time is 930am. There is already another person sitting on the steps, I assume this is my future housemate. We introduce ourselves and wait a little longer. The future housemate says that he needs to see her soon because he has other places to be. I decide to call her.

The way I see it, the conversation could have panned out in two ways.

The good way:
SP: Hi LL, I just wanted to confirm with you our meeting time today.
LL: Oh yes, we're still on today at 9:30pm.
SP: Ohhhh, ok, that sounds great. I'm with one of the other guys right now and he has to leave earlier than that...is there any way you can come by earlier?
LL: Hmmm, I can't, but my mom can be there at 1. I'll still see you at 930.
SP: Ok that works. See you then.

The bad way:
SP: Hi LL, weren't we supposed to meet at 9:30?
LL: Ummmmm but you said 930pm! I distinctly remember you saying 930 tonight, after you get off of class.
SP: ummm oh, hmmm.... yeah, now I remember
LL: Ok then, so are you there right now?
SP: errrr yes.
LL: *sighs, well I can't be there! I have work until evening! I thought we talked about this!
SP: *changes to speaker phone and hands it off to the future housemate...

Guess which way I took?

Why I need LASIK

What a refreshing morning! Woke to the sounds of birds chirping and the sunlight streaming through the windows. I rolled out of bed, stretched slightly, and started the trek to the bathroom to wash and put my contacts in.

I had hardly pushed open the bathroom door when I heard my landlady say from the next room, "Good morning Sheppard. In light of recent events*, I think we should split everything."

*Two days ago, I offered her some of my Mongolian hotpot leftovers. She said, "It's ok, I already tried some." I asked her to please not eat my food. She didn't understand and asked me to explain why. The 45 min long conversation ended with a happy hug and understanding. Or so I thought...

I asked her to elaborate. She outlined the new rules: "You need to buy your own pots and pans, cutting board, vacuum cleaner, forks, spoons, knives, saran wrap, aluminum foil, spices, etc... Everything you own must be kept in your pantry. Your fruit is not to be put in the fruit basket. Your kitchen supplies should not mix with mine."

This is weird! Why can't we keep all the plates in the same cabinet? "I don't appreciate being called weird in my own home. I find that rude that you would say something like that just because YOU don't understand. I may be quirky and unique, and nobody understands me fully, but I can't help that I feel this way and I don't have the energy nor the obligation to explain myself to you."

But you didn't tell me this in the beginning when I signed up! "Things change, and we should be receptive to that. That's something I want to encourage in this house, that we can be flexible and work things through when one of us has an issue. If you have an issue, just let me know and we'll find some sort of agreement."

and that was just the beginning....

When I come home from school tonight, I found that all of my supplies in the refrigerator had been stuffed in the meat drawer. From raw chicken breasts to carrots to pasta, it was all crammed in a 3 cubic foot container.

On my shoe rack in the closet, I found a note saying, "Shoes on the top row only. One pair deep. All others must go in your room."

My leisure books on the coffee table had been removed and placed outside my bedroom door. No more books allowed on her coffee table.

If only I had been able to see clearly in the morning. I might have avoided the ambush.

4th of July recap

A classmate decided to throw a party at her place. I offered to help with the food, as there was a hamburger recipe that I wanted to test out.

Ingredients:
ground beef, 80/20 meat/fat ratio
mild italian sausage, no casing
sliced mushrooms
ketchup
french onion soup mix
garlic, pepper, salt, basil

Mix all of the above together and shape into VERY thin and wide patties. Punch a hole in the middle.

Cook and serve on a toasted sesame bun with lettuce, tomatoes, mustard, and mayo.

That was the gameplan, at least. When I arrived at her house, I scoped out the situation. She didn't have an apron to work in, so we commissioned a tie-dye shirt as chef's uniform. There were a few problem factors: No cutting board, limited counter space, only frying pans with no lids. The first two factors resulted in her nicked thumb and some tidying up, respectively.

The cleanliness didn't last for long, unfortunately. Without a grill to drain the grease, or a lid to catch it, the panfrying quickly got out of control, splattering as high as my forehead. I eventually drained the grease after every burger into a mug.

But after all of this, the burgers came out excellent. I need to do it a few more times to perfect the recipe and method, but unfortunately it works best as a bulk recipe. Sign me up for more parties!

The cheesesteak

I love this recipe already. This was inspired by the philly from a pizza parlor in Santa Maria.

1) Season and panfry one chicken breast. Set aside.

2) Slice green and red peppers, two baby bella mushrooms, and two slices of an onion. There should be an 1:1 ratio of pepper to onion.

3) Sautee the peppers and onions in a pan, adding the mushrooms after 2 minutes. After another 2 minutes, slice the chicken into chunks and add to the pan.

4) Add a handful of italian cheese (mozzarella, provolone, romano, parmesan). Cover and let sit for 1 minute.

5) Slice a french roll in half, spread it face down, toast it in the toaster oven. I do this when I add the mushrooms

6) Pour everything in the pan onto the roll. Fold over and enjoy.

My intro script for a Health Education and Promotion presentation

Zebras don't get ulcers. But our species does. Human beings, for all our intellectual superiority and ecological dominance, are unique in our ability to stress ourselves out in the absence of any real threat.

When this stress spirals out of control, it can result in depression. It’s important to specify that we’re not talking about when the Celtics lose and you feel sad for a day. Nor are we talking about a traumatic auto accident where it takes a month to feel better. We’re referring to the kind of depression where you go down, and you don’t come up for years.

Now...this could NEVER happen to us, right? We are all professional students, and we have everything under control; young, good looking, with our whole life in front of us... Actually, depression is one of the most common and undiagnosed diseases in the US. 17% of the people in this room will suffer from depression at one point, and very likely, they will not get help for it.

One problem: semantics. “Made for TV” diseases like heart disease have well-defined parameters for diagnosis and treatment. In comparison, people are quick to tell someone who is depressed, “Just get over it.” The word “depression” is used too often in our daily life to have the same sobering effect as "diabetes." This contributes to why patients with depression often go without treatment.

Another problem: our machines are outdated. While we were growing up evolutionarily, the only source of stress was the occasional “eat or be eaten” scenario. Those situations caused a huge physiological change (fight or flight response) that saved us from many a mammoth. When we come face to face with a lion in the Serengeti, we don’t care about sex or digestion. We don’t need our immune system patrolling for threats inside our bodies. These processes are all shut down as self-preservation takes priority.

Fast forward to present times: we’re surrounded by chronic, continuous stressors now, we’re still reacting the same way, and our bodies weren’t built to for this constant load.

We are going to make a case that depression is the worst disease possible. It saps your fighting spirit. When one loses willpower, comorbidities such as smoking, obesity, heart disease, suicide, and other risk factors arise. It also indirectly damages health; depressed are more likely to engage in self destructive acts (drug abuse) and neglect to seek treatment.

Because of the hidden prevalence of depression, it is important to proactively reach out to those at risk. One method that has been tested and used to good effect is the Transactional Model of Stress and Coping.

Cooking

It took drastic circumstances to get me to this point. A small town with no restaurants, a bankrupt city with no activities, a summer semester with too much free time. Oh, and a quarter million debt and dropping 18 eggs on the floor.

Recipes I've been practicing:

Chicken: Debone chicken half breasts (97c/lb). Chop into chunks. Rub in salt, pepper, and garlic. Add vegetable oil. Rub more. Heat a skillet to high (no oil added). Sear chicken for a minute. Flip and sear again for a minute. Turn to low heat and wait 5 minutes. Allow chicken to cool for 5 minutes before eating.

Omelette: Dice bell peppers, ham, tomatoes, mushrooms, spinach, and onions. Place in pan on low heat with small amount of vegetable oil. Shake pan to spread out. Place aside on a plate when finished.
Whisk two eggs with a little milk. Pour into pan on low heat. When top is the only part runny, add a handful of shredded cheddar and jack and add the filling. Fold the omelette and allow to sit for one minute.

I like practicing knife skills and efficiency/multitasking. I'm only using one pan and one of the range tops for now. Every day, I still eat pasta, oatmeal, an apple, an orange, and a banana. But when dinner comes along, I look forward to trying new combinations.

Because I'm basically the only person in this house, I buy each component on a small scale. I'm experimenting with shallots and mushrooms right now.

Will post pictures as soon as I get my camera back.

Problems with Authority

Through the last 4 years, I've changed how I interact with my peers. I've learned, through trial and error, the many subtle mistakes that I've been making, and have done my best to address them. I've noticed my relationships with friends and family improve and I feel more secure and content around them.

But when faced with problems with authority (most recently: professor, landlady, EMT instructor), I find I revert to my passive-aggressive ways that I perfected in high school. Avoiding the problem, gossiping, backbiting, reveling in the role of victim: I retreat into time tested, outdated, habits.

This duality bothers me because I know, from my rational side, that I am compounding the problem. Perhaps I haven't had enough experience and am growing socially lopsided? Maybe I'll never need to learn this skill. As I grow older/wiser, the number of people who are my peers increases, and each new person I meet is framed as an equal.

I used to address all adults older than me by "Mr." or "Mrs." Now, I take the first name. But I can't let go of that convention with those I've already met. I don't think I ever will. And my bad habits will still be there, but I hope they rarely have to be used.

Current Junk Food

1) Quaker Rice Cakes - White Cheddar
2) Baked Lays - Parmesan and Tuscan Herb
3) Baked Kettle Chips - Black Pepper

Rotating each day to keep the flavors fresh.

Things I've heard in the last week:

1) Could you wash the bathroom and tub every week?

2) You need to scrub the oven and range after each use.

3) I don't use a chopping board. I chop my onions directly on the granite countertop. But you need to use the board.

4) Why does my dog keep peeing in the same spot? I mop it up every time.

5) If you don't want dogs pooping in your room, you should keep your door closed. I went into your room to use your computer because my laptop battery died.

6) When I bought these pots and pans, they were brand new. Now, after a few years, they look used. This is not acceptable.

Statistics in one minute

Putting some pressure on myself, organizing my thoughts.

Annoyances

Rules to live by:

1) Make an effort: I was explaining something, and somebody took a deep breath and said, "Wait a second wait a second wait a second wait a second..." x5, repeating rapidly and slowly trailing off. I wanted to stop right there and tell her how insulting that was. Firstly, I believe that if you don't understand something, the onus is on YOU to figure it out. I never liked those in class who demanded help before trying on their own. Secondly, if you're going to interrupt me, do so politely; I heard you the first time, and I'm not so dense that I need a long exhalation plea to slow me down.

2) Know your equipment: This is something I put up with a while ago at work, but recently it has come to my attention in lecture, especially with those who rely on powerpoint. I dislike that some people are willing to be a victim of technology, and act as if ignorance is cute and/or unavoidable. No soldier goes into battle with a gun that was cleaned by others, no matter his rank. A teacher should take the time to learn the sound system, the lights, the projector, and the remote control of whatever room he's working in. Those are his tools, and he should be responsible for them. When he stammers and hesitates mid-lecture because he doesn't know what he is doing, he not only loses time, he loses respect.

MPH Week 2 begins

Feeling focused, strong, and slightly crisp. This weekend's outdoor activities were too much for the nape of my neck, leaving me with a warm, lopsided tan.

We had to do a pop presentation (as in pop quiz, not soda pop). Teacher tossed an ethical dilemma at us and we had 10 minutes to give an 8 min summary, analysis, and plan. This time, adrenaline + pressure = success. I hope there are more chances to present like this. Was fun and played to my strengths.

Ethical dilemmas remind me of college philosophy classes. For all those who have yet to take philosophy, there's two schools necessary to know: Bentham and Kant. These two leaders correspond to the fields of relative and absolute, respectively; utilitarianism and deontology. What's interesting is that both of these perspectives offer valid positions to argue from, and there is a mini dilemma in choosing which way to choose. It's surprisingly enjoyable and easy to rationalize different ethics from different vantages. I hope this is not a sign that I'm not firmly rooted in a philosophy of my own.

Fun detail: I had sent out an email to the class list on Friday advertising a weekend getogether; the teacher mentioned that during rollcall; "Sheppard, the one who went bowling, right?" I had an excellent comeback about 5 minutes later.

Last night, I was confronted by my landlady/housemate. She must have been going through a tough time; it seemed like something external was on her mind and she wasn't her usual bubbly, cheerful self. But she channeled whatever that was into an impassioned plea for me to keep the bathroom door shut and the counter clear. Didn't make any sense to me at the time, but I just said yes to try to stem the tide. Yet she continued. I was surprised but did my best to keep nodding until she finished. That took about 20 minutes.

I'm slowly starting to make Vallejo my hometown. Exploring the town for lunch, I went to two taco trucks, a coffee shop converted from a gas station, and a 70 year old pizza parlor. Excellent places, all of them.

An experiment

VLOG

MPH Day 2

The Accelerated MPH program begins. Besides the awesome name, so far I’m underwhelmed. Here’s a recap of the first week:

Biostatistics: Class is MW from 2-6pm, except for Wednesdays, when it is from 4-6pm, but every other week on Wednesday it is from 330-5pm. Confusing huh?
Teacher is a low talker. He knows it too. They’ve conveniently set up a microphone for him at his lectern, an excellent mic with huge gain and clarity. It’d be nice if he would use it. He has a habit of walking away from the mic for half an hour at a time.
Material seems like math, or more relevantly, physics. I imagine problems with variables to be identified, applying the proper equation to them.

Environmental health: Class is W from 6-10pm, immediately after biostats. Firstly, I get miserable because I don’t have a meal time. The news given was that we could eat in the lecture hall, but the food could not be hot, wet, or deliciously aromatic *facepalm.
The teacher’s name is “Rainbow.” Now I don’t think it’s good practice to judge somebody based on her name, but she’s not helping the stereotype at all. At the end of the class, she read us passages about animal spirits and medicine (our totem is the peregrine falcon). We are opportunistic, agile, graceful, patient, decisive. Yay.

Health Education and Promotion: Finally a class that clicked. This class is about how to apply our knowledge to make a concrete difference. Isn’t that what the point of studying is? Gaining tools that you eventually will use. I like to think that much of my time working in the doctor’s office was dedicated to this, making flyers, pamphlets, information videos, and websites to educate patients.

Overall, this looks to be a pretty smooth season for me. Classes on M-Th. No class before 12pm. Great living conditions; safe, quiet campus.

Things that could improve: internet speed, social life, furniture, exercise, administration.

Furniture is a gamble: the landlady gets me anything I ask for, but she gets it secondhand. So I have antique, stylish furniture in my house with far more class than I could have picked myself, but I’ve had to send a few back for various malfunctions.

I’m working on the social aspect. Remembering names (about 50 people), introducing the shy ones, organizing recreational events. I have to make adjustments, going from community college to graduate school. Pop culture is less important, new factors like spouses, children, financial difficulty, and career aspirations must be accounted for. Somewhere in all of this tangle I should probably establish what my personal traits will be. It’s a new chapter and I have the chance to reframe my life with every introduction. I think, in general, I’ve shifted to more of a cutthroat, take-no-prisoners personality that prioritizes my career, and I should probably act more that way.

Half Marathon

I feel paralyzed. Every thought of moving my legs is considered briefly and quickly discarded. Sorry, my brain says, just not gonna happen.

I finished running 15 miles this morning with a former boss. The most I had ever run before this was 3 miles on a treadmill.

The first half of the journey went great. My pace was steady, and I stayed neck and neck with my running partner, on and off road, up and down hills. Near the pier (the halfway point), I started to feel slight pain in my right lower back and left thigh, but it wasn't anything serious, and I was even able to sprint the final meters of the bridge. It was an awesome feeling to stand on the edge and see nothing but blue waves in front of me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see my partner come running up. He starts doing little laps around the end of the pier, shouting out to me, "Tell me when you're ready to head back!" My pride stung, I start a quick jog, and my body immediately tells me that the pain in my back and thigh is still there. I decide to humble myself and take it slowly.

That sequence is a good introduction to the rest of the run: it only went downhill from there. Imagine brief spurts of enthusiasm halted quickly by mechanical failure. That left leg just wasn't going to start feeling better! As it started to give way, I began to take more of the weight on my right leg, taking on the appearance of a wounded (insert name of majestic African wildlife). Too much of this asymmetric running caused a near cramp in the right calf and I decided to try to ignore the pain and run proper.

Thoughts through my head on the final miles? Chants of hard work, dedication, commitment, every motivational speech and Ron Howard movie, Chariots of Fire, Dune's Litany of Fear. Memories of pledging returned as I tried to recall the mental fortitude to overcome my instincts. I think I did a good job of encouraging myself, but my body couldn't keep up.

During that final stretch, I remember the pain of every hill, rock, and curb. I remember the joy of seeing the "1 mile left" sign. I remember the despair at how long it took to finish that mile. And I remember how amazing that first bite was after the run. The victory apple, a welcome tradition that dates all the way back to 5th grade Outdoor School.

I think I will have to wait until after the next few days before I can objectively recommend this to anybody else. It might not be worth it.

edit: Nothing two doses of Aleve couldn't handle. Naproxen helped the knees, a few bananas and extra sleep helped the back. Small price to pay for the status of running a HALF MARATHON.

Free time

I don't know how to vacation.

If given 15 minutes to relax, I know what to do: I'd check my email, read the internet news, practice a song or two. I know how to get the most out of small snippets of time.

But when faced with a complete day off, with no pressure, these same activities feel empty. These last two weekends, where I've had no work to do, no impending tests, no upcoming events, I've felt strange. It's ridiculous to look back on a weekend and realize I was sitting in front of a computer all day, refreshing my inbox and bookmarks, waiting for an update.

Time for a new hobby? That was the first thought that came to mind. But I have enough hobbies. Magic, musical instruments, video editing, These are all areas that I've dipped into and should develop further. I have all the information but am not using it.

I guess it's fitting that I don't anticipate much free time in the near future.

Once in a Lifetime

Take any kid from junior high and you'll find someone who is absolutely, positively ready for a once in a lifetime event. He will know exactly what to do when thrust on the stage of a rock concert, given the ball in the final seconds, or presented with love at first sight.

Fast forward to professional life. Somewhere growing up, that awareness of the unexpected is lost. Take healthcare, for example. Each symptom is a piece of the puzzle that contributes to the diagnosis. Taking all the signs together, one can make a pretty strong case: let's say with 90% certainty. Good enough, they say: to claim absolute certainty is both foolish and impossible. And when we gain these satisfactory leads, we must follow them. There's not a doctor in the world who will say, "Oh look, it's the same case as the last nine that I saw. But this being the tenth, I should pick the 10% option." Not only would that sort of reasoning be mathematically unsound, it would never hold up in court.

But here's the weird part. Eventually, that rare case will come. Without a doubt. And we will choose the wrong course of action. 100% of the time. It's as if we are slaves to our experience. The irony is that although we associate experience with better judgment, it also cements the inevitable wrong choice.

This vulnerability frustrates me because there seems to be no easy remedy. There's no way to protect against it without costing inordinate amounts of time, effort, and money. Maybe this is the modern day Sword of Damocles, a peril ever present to remind us of our limitations.

I hope this .0001% event happens to me soon. Get it out of the way, and with such low chances, it's unlikely to happen twice in a lifetime....right?

Hmmmmmm....



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Spring Break

This spring break, I learned how to shop for housing. After dodging sketchy neighborhoods, cougars, pets, and children, the final matchup was clear:

In the blue corner, a near perfect loft/studio, fully furnished. Leather chairs, a cedar kitchen table, and a full kitchen. It was the perfect bachelor pad. The rent: $900/month, including utilities

In the red corner, right across the street, one bedroom of a house owned by a couple. Barebone: a tiny ikea computer desk stations, an old mattress, and a grimy mirror. Rent: $500/month, including utilities.

The verdict: 500/month wins. It was a hard choice; that studio was amazing. I still remember how I felt when I climbed the stairs and was met at once with the whole room. It felt like a picture of my future, how I'd live when I graduate.

But I need to stay grounded. $400 extra a month isn't anything to laugh at. Over two years, that will add up to $9600 extra. Calculate a 6% interest on the student loans and the net result after ten years will be an additional $20,000 to pay off.

Sometimes, when I rationalize myself out of things I want, I wish I wasn't so good at math :)

and now, introducing the newest member of the family

...the Breadman! This little machine boasts perfectly made bread every time, just add some contents, set it and forget it.

First impressions: high maintenance! I had fun measuring out the ingredients, which reminded me of my chemistry days in college. But the specificity annoyed me. 3/4 cups + 1 tablespoon of water? I'm used to cooking real time, whether stir frying or barbecue, and methods have never been THAT exact. To stress over one tablespoon of water was something unusual to me. But this was the first time, so I begrudgingly complied.

Second impression: the device is a maniac. Like, Pomeranian, honeycomb monster, gremlin, take your pick. It can't make up its mind which way it wants to turn. First right, then left. I was trying to scrape some dough off the side and it nearly took my hand off. It also is so sporadic with the speed that it nearly vibrated its way off the table it was set on. I'm going to have to put a leash on it.

Third impression: The final bread is pretty darn good, so it looks like I'm going to have to suffer and get used to it. So far, white and egg bread have been winners, and I'm going to step up to the next level tonight: coconut pineapple pound cake!

Pieces of a Puzzle

Isn't it awesome when you can look to the past and see how random events, done without purpose or plan, form one logical, continuous chain of events?

16 months ago: I go to a doctor and he uses a flexible laryngoscope to examine my vocal cords.

14 months ago: I start working for that doctor, preparing other patients for the scope, applying topical anesthesia and setting up the equipment.

6 months ago: I purchase and assemble equipment (camera, xenon light source, plasma tv, recording adaptor) for a new fiberoptic laryngoscope system in the office.

2 weeks ago: The physician shows me how to hold a laryngoscope. After hours, when patients have left, I practice controlling it.

Today, 11:00 AM: I prepare a patient for the scope, placing local anesthesia and decongestant in both nostrils. For the first time, I decide to place an additional cotton swab in the left nostril. Something about that side feels too loose.

Today, 11:04 AM: The patient decides to tell me his life story, and requests to know mine. Normally, I make an exit, citing a busy schedule. However, today I decide to stay and converse.

Today, 11:10 AM: The doctor tells me to glove up and operate the scope myself, while he stands beside me. I hold it as he showed me. The patient, knowing my background, enthusiastically agrees. The left nostril is clear. I slowly insert the scope along the floor of the nose. Crouching low, sneaking under the inferior turbinate, I slip by the Eustachian tube and make a nosedive into full view of the trachea.

Today was a 60 second experience made possible by 14 months of work. And it was totally worth it.

The Chicken or the Egg, Musical style

Hubris:
Someone asked me if an accidental applied to all the octaves in one measure, or only that note. I quickly answered: all. It's what I've always done, in 20 years of arpeggios. My questioner looked very disappointed. He had previously argued strongly for the other camp.

Turns out I was wrong. Went home and looked up the rules on the gold standard of accuracy (wikipedia). But I was curious as to why I was so sure of my answer. I started asking other musicians. Most fell into the same trap I did.

I wondered what the reason was for this oversight. Looking through my old music, I began to see the new patterns. What I thought to be courtesy to the musician was actually a rule to the system. I selfishly had thought that everything on that sheet of music was for me, and that those markings were no more than a helpful reminder of my own personal rules. Maybe they still are. Wikipedia fails too, right?

But at least it sparked a question: when does a courtesy become a rule? I know I often do inconvenient things to be polite. But when we saturate our lives with these rituals, will we have the freedom to take back the habit? How will society react when we realize, while eating out in a large party, that waiting for all the food to arrive before eating results in n-1 lukewarm servings? and that, in casting shame on the eater of the last piece, we require vigilance at the dinner table, all eyes open for the penultimate portion?

I wish I could think of examples that don't involve food. That would give this matter more weight :)

Questions of the Day: Did you know about the octave accidental rule? And what are the stupidest manners you still do? Or that you're fighting?

It's time to gross yourself out

Imagine microwaving a stick of butter. Pour it all over your hands. Feel how it makes webs between your fingers; hear how it glistens as you rub your palms together. Try rolling over a 200 lb log now. Fail once. Feel it budge, then roll back. Fail again. Give up and call it a day.

If you were able to picture that vividly, congratulations, you can skip class...

...if your class is the one where your assignment is to yank away a two inch layer of fat off a cadaver. The harder I pulled, the slicker it got (I'll let you figure out why). The slicker it was, the harder I held. Rinse (change gloves) and repeat ad nauseam.

Paint-ballin!

Some guys from my fraternity came into town for a paintball tournament, and I joined their team. From the moment the whistle blew, I realized that all the gym work I had been doing was useless. In the dirt, my too-loose mask fogging up, machine-trained muscles clumsy on damp grass, I felt strength expended with each narrow miss.

I wish I could post a war hero story here. How many times have I dreamed of being the commando, the invincible, untouchable hero that slides gracefully around the battlefield, dispatching opponents with ease? Well, that dream hasn't been realized yet. During the semifinal match, as the other four members of my team were eliminated, a growing sense of dread and hopelessness set in. I broke cover and ran laterally to try to flank what felt like a full opposing team. Took a paintball on the ankle for my efforts.

Tripped and landed hard. Looked up and saw my ammo had detached from my weapon. Tried to reach out and gather when I felt pain. I also saw that my left hand had not moved. Aw shucks.

With my right hand I gathered up as much as I could to make a dignified exit from the arena, but collapsed on the bench as soon as I exited. Breaths were coming in shallow, as my left shoulder felt like it was in the wrong place, but I couldn't move it anywhere else without retaliation. My teammates, having seen me fall, rushed over to help me get out of my jacket. As they pulled the left sleeve off, there was a noticeable shift of something, and with it, relief. Cool! With their poor caretaking skills (partly my fault, I didn't want my shirt cut off), I think my team set my shoulder back in place.

What an experience. First, pain that punished the very thought of movement. Then, the rush of peace that arrived immediately as mobility was restored.

Yes folks, it really is just like the movies. I'm walking around today feeling like I just had a good, pleasantly sore, workout.

Diet and exercise

Join a gym: check
Buy shoes: check
Get MuscleMilk: check
Take a before photo: check
Diet: ......

I did all the easy stuff first (well, the photo was tricky, set up the worst angles so that the improvement would be more obvious). Bargained for a $30/month deal at Gold's. Loaded up the duffel bag with shorts, cutoff shirts, and protein shakes. I was going to war with my body.

But then came that often downplayed issue of diet. We always think we can "work off" things we eat. But I looked at the calorie counter after an hour of running 6 miles on the treadmill. 563! Done on an incline, with me gasping, out of breath, sweat dripping off my eyelashes. That number is less than the snacks I've eaten while writing this post.

Typical Gold's. Yet another piece of broken equipment...

Humble Beginnings

I was having lunch with a classmate today, and we both realized that we had considered blogging. Being that time of the year when one is to pick up good habits, I figured I'd take this impulse seriously and launch while the momentum was fresh.

So here we go. You can expect random musings on music, physics, LOST, Survivor, video games, technology, and med school here.

I expect that in the coming days, I'll be experiencing many things for the first time. Those are the things that I'd like to blog about. Enjoy!