The Year In Review

This year has been an interesting one to say the least and I have more than one lesson from it. But here is the biggest revelation of all...

The biggest lie we are told is that something can and will rescue us. No matter how bad life may be, there is always the possibility of being rescued. No matter how deep our debts, or our sorrows, or our pain, something can still rescue us. The lottery, a man, a woman, a job, god. Something. The possibility exists.

We are taught since birth that if we make the right decisions and choose the right path then eventually we will be rewarded with a neat and tidy life. It will be wrapped up perfectly in a bow and everything will be wonderful. If we choose the right job, the right lover, the right house/dog/outfit/shoes/words then, one day, life will be perfect. We won’t fight with our spouse, our children will want to spend time with us, and we will be appreciated by all those we give to. But this isn’t true.

No matter what path we take, life is messy. It never wraps up neat and tidy. It never turns out completely perfect. It is a struggle and can be painful at times, and we must learn to not only accept this but find the joy in it. No matter the amount of money in our bank account or the passion we feel for our beloved, there will always be something that keeps us on our toes. Keeps us striving for something else. That is what life is. That is what it means to be human. The most we can ask for is a sense of humor to cushion the blows, and the child-like wonder born from an innocence that allows us to approach life unafraid and excited about the possibilities.

My Year In Review:

• Number of new things tried: 25 (obviously there is more, but I am basing it off of documented experiences)
• Number of times I was asked to hold my paycheck: 5
  
• Hairs I lost during my 5 physics exams: 6 million (yes, I am now bald. I am joking by the way...)
• Family members who passed away or came close: 0! (Yay! Trust me, after last year, this is news worthy)
• Number of ganglion cyst I saw: 10
  
• Number of compacted wrist fractures I saw: 4 (I am starting to think it might be better to just fall on your face...)
• Number of dates I went on: 6 (yes, I am horribly pathetic, get over it)
• Number of dates I enjoyed: 1
• Number of times I was spun around like cattle at auction: 1
  
• Number of testicles that ass should be missing: 2
  
• Number of times I got food poisoning: 2 (both from my own cooking! Yikes, good thing I am not studying to be a chef)
• Best volunteer experience of the year: Free clinic
• Worst volunteer experience: Hospital (I think this one is getting dropped)

What the new year holds: Judo, hospice, o-chem, biochem, MCAT, med school applications, more hair falling out.

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!

Just Call Me Mr. Ed...

So I figured after yesterday's rant and proclamation that I would only date well off men, I needed to update you on recent events. I went out on a date today with rich bachelor #100&whatever, we will call him Mr. Pervy Gym (he is a pervert and he owns a chain of gyms, golf courses, and a slew of other businesses around the country- hence the name) and was subjected to the most mortifying and insulting moment of my young life. At the end of our brunch date (I find daytime dates much more relaxed so that is why I set all of these up during the day) I got up from the table to put on my jacket and before I could reach for it, he took my hand and slowly spun me around...surveying me!!! (Note, the only reason I actually ended up turning around was because I was beyond confused as to what the hell he was doing and by the time I figured it out I was already half way around). Before stating that I looked just like my pictures! And the way he did it was so sleazy I feel like I need a shower just thinking about it...a shower and a baseball bat!

What am I, a horse he is buying at auction?! I half expected him to tell me to open up my mouth so he could inspect the health of my teeth. Correct me if I am wrong, but we gave up slavery a while ago right? So the physical surveying of any person (outside of a physician's office) is REALLY inappropriate. Worse yet, the woman sitting at the table opposite us, reading a book, saw the whole thing and I am pretty sure she thought I was a prostitute!

I am sorry Mr. Pervy Gym, but unlike your fancy sports car I do not come in a variety of colors and sports package options. Your brazen physical appraisal was beyond inappropriate and earned you the title Biggest Asshole of the Year (B.A.Y.- hahaha it makes me think of Bay of Pigs, so appropriate, it was a disaster and he's a pig). Your prize is a swift kick to the groin and me running you down with my car. Oh, and just so you know, you even beat out $1.69 guy for the title. Seriously, are you not suave enough to check my ass out while I am not looking like any normal guy would? Or perhaps you think your financial assets entitle you to act like the piggy you are.

I of course fixed him with a stare that could have quite literally burned a hole through his forehead (if only), buttoned my jacket closed, and headed for the door without a word. But Mr. Gym, being the knuckled-headed jackass he is, actually thought it was ok to catch up with me, tell me he had a great time and move in for a hug and a sneaky pervert kiss. Unfortunately for him, I have plenty of experience in deflecting socially inappropriate individuals so all he got was an awkward moment on the street of hugging someone who was stiff as a board and kissing the air next to my head because I have perfected the head-tilt-avoidance maneuver. HA! that will teach him! :-)

Wait, You're HOW CHEAP?!

Sooooo, it doesn't take a genius to know that living in your parent's basement, spending all your time at school or a free clinic (as a volunteer- get your mind out of the gutter!), and working at a non-profit that doesn't even have money to pay you (seriously, still holding my paychecks- that's right people, that's plural) doesn't bode well for my, ahem...we'll call it my "personal" life. The point of my mentioning of this is to highlight the fact that I would probably sleep with the cute (but really dumb) baristo boy at the cafe I go to every morning if he gave me a wink and an extra shot of vanilla in my hot cocoa at no extra charge.

Why is this important you ask? Well, just keep this in mind as you read this little story.

Anyhoo, back to my grand adventure. While out at a local coffee shop last week, a good looking guy asked me out and I figured what the hell, at the very least I could count it as my new thing for the week. Knowing that I was attracted to him, I figured he was the broke artist type (since I am apparently attracted to nothing else) and suggested coffee as our first outing. I always try to be considerate of the fact that I am attracted to broke individuals and therefore choose a cheap date...well apparently, I was with the cheapest-skate of them all!

Upon ordering my $1.69 12oz hot cocoa (I kid you not, I even ordered the smallest size there!) he informed the barista that our orders would be separate! Oh my freaking god! Are you kidding me?! Did you seriously just ask me out then have me pay for my $1.69 hot cocoa?! I entertained the thought of slugging him in the head with my rather heavy mug but thought better of it...I like that coffee house and I would be sad if they asked me not to come back because I had accosted a customer, even if he was a cheapskate. Turning to pay for the extravagant $1.69 and I could see the barista was just as outraged and disgusted as I was, which made me feel better.

I decided to give him the benefit of a doubt- maybe he had just lost everything in a house fire (see people, this is the thought process that gets me in trouble every-freaking-time!)- and sat with him for about 15 minutes. The entire time I didn't utter a word, not even a grunt of approval or a mutterance (yes, I made up a word) of interest. Nothing. But Mr. Cheap-o didn't seem to notice, he chatted on about how he worked at the local computer company (it is a HUGE, widely distributed/used corporation...i.e. there was no reason for him to be Mr. Cheap-o) and as far as I could tell, he was completely self absorbed. 15 minutes was all I could take until I finally excused myself and took my $1.69 hot cocoa back to the car.

This experience has taught me one thing- I am over dating poor starving artists (I don't care if they can change a tire or not, they probably don't have the gas money or car to drive to where I am stranded anyway- true story by the way...). It's not like I am looking to get married anyway so why not have a casual relationship with one of these rich guys I am being set up with? Hell, at least he will pay for the $1.69 hot cocoa...Then again, on second thought, who the hell am I trying to kid? The first time some broke construction worker crosses my path this smart plan will go right out the window and I will be back to my old ways *cue devilish smile*.

Kale, Chia Seeds, And Regurgitation

My 26th birthday is just around the corner and as I begin the all-to-short journey out of my mid-twenties I am determined to have time back on my side. I am too young for these light wrinkles in the corner of my eyes and too old for the zit I am currently sporting on my chin...thanks Mother Nature, as if my life wasn't already a living hell every 28 days, you must always have my skin regress to middle school too...

So in this effort to stop the clock, or at least slow the bastard down, I have decided to test drive being healthier. Don't get me wrong, I have never really been unhealthy, I exercise, I eat my fruits and veggies (though admittedly more fruits than veggies), and I drink my recommended amount of water (and fortuitously dislike soda). And thanks to good genes, my weight is on the low end for my height- thank you Nana!!! and But I will admit right off the bat that I love carbs and sugar. If a piece of bread or a sweet is within 40 miles of me, I will sniff it out and partake. Yum yum. Why is it all the yummy stuff is bad for you?

Starting today (I was going to start yesterday but I found a stash of holiday M&M's which, um, *cough, cough* magically disappeared) I will be cutting drastically back on my carb and processed sugar intake and increasing my supplements with things such as Chia (pronounced Chee-ah, like the clay pot with plants for hair, not the same thing but the same sounding name) and gelatinized Maca powder. Yum, who needs a chocolate chip cookie when you have gelatinized powder of some root cultivated in the Peruvian mountains?

So today, I got up bright and early (or at 8:45am, but who is keeping track? BTW- I love being out of school and being able to sleep in, it is soooo nice!) and trekked to the store to buy a blender. Yes folks, I didn't even have a blender to start this whole health craze off. After returning home, and proudly setting up my blender, I proceed to make a health drink recipe that was recommended to me ("It is so good you are going to love it!" they had said...Never trust a raw-diet/vegan for a good recipe, their idea of tasty is VERY different from the general population). I stuffed in kale, beets (with tops), lemon, cucumber, and a few ice cubes and blended that garden medley right up.

Not surprisingly, it smelled like, well, a garden. I took a taste test and fought back against the pronounced lump in my throat. Seeing how my goal was not to develop a bile inducing regimen, I added some apple, then some kiwi, then some orange juice, I even considered honey! But to no avail. No matter what I did to this drink it remained as crap-tastic as ever! Not to mention the beets turned your hands, tongue, and teeth bright red! I eventually gave up and opted for organic oatmeal without sugar and am now eating fresh green beans as I write this.

I may have lost the battle, but I am winning this war, gosh dang-it! I just need to find a recipe that masks that god awful- ahem, I mean, potent taste of kale and raw beets. If any of you have any recipes that are half way decent (by normal people standards) and doesn't included processed sugar, please, share with the class! :-)

Demon Photos and Tall Orthos

So, I have been shadowing an orthopedic surgeon for the last two weeks and have loved every ganglion cyst filled moment of it. As a pre med I can't be in the OR but I can see outpatient procedures such as Hyaluronan Injections (basically a lube job for arthritic knees). I have been so busy being the over-excited (but totally collected) pre med that it wasn't until the other day when I was standing at the nurses station, shadowing the surgeon as always, that I noticed no physician in that department was under 6 feet tall...and that is being conservative, they were more like 6'3. I have never felt so short at 5'7. I wonder if ortho's have some height requirement I am not aware of... Maybe to get to the job interview they make you climb steps built for a giant and that is part of the selection process...

In other news, my matchmaker sent another client's profile for me to consider... the only problem is, well, his photo. I am sure you are thinking, RP, why are you being so mean, people can't help what they look like. Well, it wasn't so much him as his actual photo. He has straight up demon eyes (red eye gone crazy) in the photo (if I could figure out a way to keep his privacy and post this photo I would, it is truly scary). And it made me wonder, of all the photos this guy probably has of himself, why the hell did he choose demon eyes? Was that really the photo he felt showed who he is? If so, that is a bit...um...scary. I haven't responded back, I am trying to think of a nice way to ask the matchmaker if there are any non-demon photos of him lying around that I can look at... Any ideas on how to say that in a PC way?

Pause For Contemplation

I am currently sitting in a hospital waiting room, listening to the low hum of the tv in the background and the hospital busy bodies floating around outside the open doorway, as is common for this breed of room. At the moment, I sit alone as the darkness blankets the sky outside and the hospital instinctively quiets down with the arrival of the evening. A few moments ago this waiting room was bustling with a large family waiting for news on how their mom did during surgery. They were like any family, they laughed and teased each other, made a coffee call each time one of them left the room, their close ties evident in every gesture. But as soon as the surgeon entered the room, a silence so deafening fell over them it almost hurt my ears. In that one moment, that microsecond between their silence and the surgeons first words, the tension was palpable. The humor fell away and all that was left was the silent desperate plea to fate that their loved one pulled through.

I do not know what the surgeon had to tell them (I am assuming it was ok since their tension melted quite a bit as they left the waiting room) but I knew in that moment, this is what medicine is about. Whether you are a surgeon or primary care physician, you are caring for somebody who means the world to another person. You are being trusted with someone's most valued gift, their body. Their livelihood. You are working not just to give them the best life possible but to give their loved ones the time they crave. Time to make memories and right wrongs. Time to live. Some days this isn't what happens, some days fate has other ideas and all we can do watch as she sweeps into our lives without warning and leaves us confused, and at times broken. But then there are the days that allow you to be the relief, the light at the end of the tunnel that gives them permission to breathe again.

The family I mentioned before seemed ok with what the surgeon said but once he left there were many tears as the wave of relief crashed against the tension they had been holding at bay. Their happiness was no longer balancing precariously in the realm of the unknown, they had firm footing once more. I have been there. I have been the one waiting, holding my breath, seeking sure footing. And I know the relief that comes with the knowledge that you can breath easily once more. I look forward to the time when I can offer that sure footing and reassurance to others. What an amazing experience to be able to serve others in this way, even if sometimes that isn't always how it works out.