I dedicate this title to my sister. The woman who is willing to answer her phone at 10pm while I am waiting for my much delayed 2nd laser hair removal treatment (appointment was at 9:30pm) and provide me with an inverse logarithmic function because I do physics homework in the oddest of places (like the waiting lobby of my medi spa) and my brain went numb and my backup brain (i.e. the internet) was non existent in that location.
Before sitting down to write today, I thought, "What should I write about? What should I say to entertain all 2 of my readers today?" Should I write about the nine hours of sleep I have had over the last 3 nights...combined? Should I write about the fact that my work is finally starting to understand that no one person can save the organization and that it must be a group effort? Nah, I should write about the awkwardness of female grooming (no worries, the imagery is mild so fear not readers with a delicate constitution!).
There is a moment in one of the Sex and the City movies in which Carrie gets a Brazilian bikini wax while out in oh so glamorous LA scene (and for those of you who do not know what this is...go look it up because I will not be getting into those gory details). In the scene she has her leg up past her head as she tries to make small talk with the Eastern European esthetician ripping the hair out of her nether regions (Eastern European women do make the best estheticians by the way...maybe it is because they offer no mercy...). That scene so beautifully captured the true feel of that whole idea/moment. You want to be friendly with your esthetician but really, when it comes right down to it, you don't want to be friends with someone who knows your va-jay-jay better than you do. Just think about it, the awkwardness will come to you.
Anyhoo, last night as I bent and moved into truly awkward positions under the harsh lights of the procedure room (seriously, you can dress it up with linens and candles and plants all you want, but nothing can make clients forget that the lights in those rooms are brighter than the surface of the sun and are practically screaming out every flaw you have for all to hear) and my technician's intense stare, a thought hit me, "Where's the mood music and flowers?" I mean this lady is practically rounding third base if you think about it (again, look that up if you don't know what that means) and I don't even get dinner out of the deal! The last person who had my bent like a pretzel at least woo'd me a bit before hand. But this little adventure was only precluded by, "Are you wearing deodorant?" (if your underarms have deodorant it inhibits the laser, so it must be wiped off before you start). How bizarre when you think about it.
The grooming habits of the US is pretty darn hilarious when you get right down to it! :-)
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Friday, January 27, 2012
Decisions and Sacrifices...
This past week has been a bit difficult for me, it started with a horrible physics exam (I am not actually worried- after the curve I will end up toward the top of the class- but it is really disheartening to put so much effort into something only to constantly come up short because the tests are impossible for EVERYONE to finish. What an unhelpful way to conduct exams...). On top of that, I have been forced to come to the realization that I will have to make certain sacrifices to become a doctor. I am fine with making sacrifices for things I want (although, I will confess this is partly the reason it takes me so long to commit to something). It is part of life, by choosing one path, you are inherently giving up another. And generally I am ok with that, but as I continue with my volunteer work I am constantly being exposed to many elderly patients who either made the choice not to do the whole family thing or are estranged from their family and are therefore equally alone. Yes, this is pertinent, just hang in there ;-P
I have never been (and my guess is, probably never will be) someone who wanted the white-picket fence dream. It never appealed to me (and I would guess my unconventional upbringing in a family full of women could have something to do with that, hahaha :-). It seems too mundane/conventional/constricting/you-name-it to be satisfying in anyway for me. On the other hand, as I grow older I have begun to realize just how fortunate I am to have the family I do. It is a rare gift to know what it is like to have true unconditional love and acceptance (don’t get me wrong, we have vastly differing opinions and can argue endlessly about various topics but at the end of the day none of us cares about that because we know and love the person regardless). Acknowledging this unique (and beneficial) dynamic a few years ago, I started looking into the idea of adopting a child out of the foster care system (pre- parent's basement/premed obviously). There are so many kids out there with no one to love and accept them and I was drawn to the idea of helping in some small way. My peek into this path wasn’t anything too serious, I wouldn’t want to do it until several years down the road anyway so it was more information gathering than anything else.
But now, as I look into my future, I can see that I will be making a choice between that path and the path of being a doctor. Theoretically, I could adopt when I am nearly 40 (~36-ish) and out of residency, but the dynamic that I am looking to capture and pass on to another will be gone. My mom and her siblings will be in their 60’s and early 70’s (their age range is significant between the oldest and youngest) and this will make everything different. Some will probably not live to see the kid graduate high school (hell I will be nearly 60 when they do! Yikes!) much less be around to be best friends, confidants, and supporters as the child moves into adulthood as they were for my sister and I (and truthfully, as they were for a few of our friends). So this makes me think I should just scrap the whole idea.
But then I see my elderly patients, the ones with no children or estranged families and I have to wonder, “is that my fate?” Am I doomed to an old age home with no one to advocate for me or make sure my wishes are followed. Will I one day be the elderly patient lost in the shuffle of the system? I am not changing my mind, I feel a very strong pull toward this decision, but the realization (at the age of 26 no less) that I will most likely find myself in the very situation I see my elderly patients in now is very hard to swallow.
I have never been (and my guess is, probably never will be) someone who wanted the white-picket fence dream. It never appealed to me (and I would guess my unconventional upbringing in a family full of women could have something to do with that, hahaha :-). It seems too mundane/conventional/constricting/you-name-it to be satisfying in anyway for me. On the other hand, as I grow older I have begun to realize just how fortunate I am to have the family I do. It is a rare gift to know what it is like to have true unconditional love and acceptance (don’t get me wrong, we have vastly differing opinions and can argue endlessly about various topics but at the end of the day none of us cares about that because we know and love the person regardless). Acknowledging this unique (and beneficial) dynamic a few years ago, I started looking into the idea of adopting a child out of the foster care system (pre- parent's basement/premed obviously). There are so many kids out there with no one to love and accept them and I was drawn to the idea of helping in some small way. My peek into this path wasn’t anything too serious, I wouldn’t want to do it until several years down the road anyway so it was more information gathering than anything else.
But now, as I look into my future, I can see that I will be making a choice between that path and the path of being a doctor. Theoretically, I could adopt when I am nearly 40 (~36-ish) and out of residency, but the dynamic that I am looking to capture and pass on to another will be gone. My mom and her siblings will be in their 60’s and early 70’s (their age range is significant between the oldest and youngest) and this will make everything different. Some will probably not live to see the kid graduate high school (hell I will be nearly 60 when they do! Yikes!) much less be around to be best friends, confidants, and supporters as the child moves into adulthood as they were for my sister and I (and truthfully, as they were for a few of our friends). So this makes me think I should just scrap the whole idea.
But then I see my elderly patients, the ones with no children or estranged families and I have to wonder, “is that my fate?” Am I doomed to an old age home with no one to advocate for me or make sure my wishes are followed. Will I one day be the elderly patient lost in the shuffle of the system? I am not changing my mind, I feel a very strong pull toward this decision, but the realization (at the age of 26 no less) that I will most likely find myself in the very situation I see my elderly patients in now is very hard to swallow.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Nothing New, Just Something Funny :-)
A sign you are too ingrained in the technological age: You find the ring on the other end of the land line phone you are holding to your ear (with your shoulder) isn't loud enough so you try to increase the volume...using your volume button on your cell phone. A few seconds later you realize the TV is too loud for you to concentrate on the phone call you are having while simultaneously texting, so you try to turn the volume down... with the computer volume buttons located on the laptop you have sitting in your lap... Once you finish the phone call on the land line, you decide to turn music onto the computer and turn up the volume...using the cell phone volume buttons again...
Lesson of this story? Cell phones should be the universal remotes for every aspect of our lives. See there, problem solved. :-)
Oh, and for you dedicated readers out there wondering where the new thing of the week is, here it is: I missed an entire week of school because the university closed due to flooding. Tomorrow I will be walking into my first physics exam with only 3 actual lectures under my belt for the entire term so far. That is definitely new... ;-P
Lesson of this story? Cell phones should be the universal remotes for every aspect of our lives. See there, problem solved. :-)
Oh, and for you dedicated readers out there wondering where the new thing of the week is, here it is: I missed an entire week of school because the university closed due to flooding. Tomorrow I will be walking into my first physics exam with only 3 actual lectures under my belt for the entire term so far. That is definitely new... ;-P
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
At the Mercy of a Broken System
I love volunteering at the free clinic, it is truly one of the brightest spots in my week. The people I meet there are so kind and grateful, it is humbling to have the opportunity to serve them. Each week I see some frequent flyers and some new faces. I develop a relationship with them, I know if they live in town or if they commute to come to the clinic. I know if they are living with their parents or kids. I remember what they came in for the week before and ask them how they are doing this week. I know them. They aren't patient #14 but instead Ms. Smith* who lives on the other end of town.
Each week, I also have the chance to see the trends of who is coming in. The sick obviously, but some are young people, younger than me, who don't have insurance. Some of them are elderly, with the same birth year as my Nana. Whenever I see someone who is close to the age my Nana would have been were she still with us, I can't help but picture her in their place. My Nana was very stoic and reserved and it actually brings tears to my eyes to think of the shame she would have felt for seeking out the services we offer and I have to wonder, do my elderly patients feel the same? But the truth is, if she didn't have a fiercely loyal family, full of children who would fight to the death to give her what she deserved/wanted/needed, she could have very easily wound up as one of my elderly patients. Isolated from much of society, with little or no income, and at the mercy of a broken system...Passing away in a state run institution rather than in the comfort and dignity of her home.
How is it we have come to this point? How have we built ourselves to be so big that those who paved the way for us are now lost in this massive system? And because we are so big the effect on our empathy/feeling of responsibility is much less, we do not have a personal connection with patient #4394856867259405-0067264, we don't even bother to look at their name anymore. Historically, in smaller societies such as hunter gatherer or early agricultural communities, we knew everyone. There was a social responsibility to serve the community for the betterment of everyone. And if you didn't, everyone knew it and you had to face the shame and possible exclusion. But now...now, there is no social pressure to give a damn. Instead we try to push people through the system as fast as possible, never really caring if they get lost in the frequent staff turnovers of social workers.
Each time I see a patient, I try to imagine a beloved family member in their place and how I would want them treated if they were at the clinic, and I treat them exactly that way. It seems that the down trodden are so often fodder for others, whether an eager-beaver premed who wants to read their chart for interesting cases, or a physician who mocks their lack of hygiene with the nurses in the hall. As if the guilt and shame they so often feel for seeking out these services aren't enough of an unnecessary weight on their shoulders, now they must also be seen as zoo animals open for observation by any and all. I can't imagine the president or Bill Gates standing for this type of treatment, or even your average Joe. What entitles them to more respect than these patients? Ink and paper? Because that is all money is when you get right down to it...
Now, I don't want to give you the wrong impression. Some of the physicians who donate their time are amazing. They are kind and compassionate beyond compare and I can only hope to one day be as dedicated as they are. But not all of them are like that...
Oddly enough, the free clinic is the only place a physician is allowed to be human. Here the patients must sign a liability waiver that basically states that except in cases of gross negligence, they waive any and all rights to sue for malpractice. Why can physicians only be human when the potential casualties are societies castaway's?
*All names have obviously been changed.
Each week, I also have the chance to see the trends of who is coming in. The sick obviously, but some are young people, younger than me, who don't have insurance. Some of them are elderly, with the same birth year as my Nana. Whenever I see someone who is close to the age my Nana would have been were she still with us, I can't help but picture her in their place. My Nana was very stoic and reserved and it actually brings tears to my eyes to think of the shame she would have felt for seeking out the services we offer and I have to wonder, do my elderly patients feel the same? But the truth is, if she didn't have a fiercely loyal family, full of children who would fight to the death to give her what she deserved/wanted/needed, she could have very easily wound up as one of my elderly patients. Isolated from much of society, with little or no income, and at the mercy of a broken system...Passing away in a state run institution rather than in the comfort and dignity of her home.
How is it we have come to this point? How have we built ourselves to be so big that those who paved the way for us are now lost in this massive system? And because we are so big the effect on our empathy/feeling of responsibility is much less, we do not have a personal connection with patient #4394856867259405-0067264, we don't even bother to look at their name anymore. Historically, in smaller societies such as hunter gatherer or early agricultural communities, we knew everyone. There was a social responsibility to serve the community for the betterment of everyone. And if you didn't, everyone knew it and you had to face the shame and possible exclusion. But now...now, there is no social pressure to give a damn. Instead we try to push people through the system as fast as possible, never really caring if they get lost in the frequent staff turnovers of social workers.
Each time I see a patient, I try to imagine a beloved family member in their place and how I would want them treated if they were at the clinic, and I treat them exactly that way. It seems that the down trodden are so often fodder for others, whether an eager-beaver premed who wants to read their chart for interesting cases, or a physician who mocks their lack of hygiene with the nurses in the hall. As if the guilt and shame they so often feel for seeking out these services aren't enough of an unnecessary weight on their shoulders, now they must also be seen as zoo animals open for observation by any and all. I can't imagine the president or Bill Gates standing for this type of treatment, or even your average Joe. What entitles them to more respect than these patients? Ink and paper? Because that is all money is when you get right down to it...
Now, I don't want to give you the wrong impression. Some of the physicians who donate their time are amazing. They are kind and compassionate beyond compare and I can only hope to one day be as dedicated as they are. But not all of them are like that...
Oddly enough, the free clinic is the only place a physician is allowed to be human. Here the patients must sign a liability waiver that basically states that except in cases of gross negligence, they waive any and all rights to sue for malpractice. Why can physicians only be human when the potential casualties are societies castaway's?
*All names have obviously been changed.
Monday, January 9, 2012
Moonsets, Sunrises, and the 9th Circel of Hell
Hi ho, hi ho, it's back to class I go. Oh yay...I have a reason to live again, I was feeling much too relaxed and peaceful during the winter break. Today, my 8am chemistry class (it's official, I am a masochist- seriously, I live an hour away from campus...you do the wake up math) allowed me to do something I haven't done in along time...so long in fact, that I can count it as a new thing! I saw the moonset/sunrise. It was breathtaking. Now if only I could see it at 9am instead of 6 something I would be in total bliss.
In other news, I think I have hit the wall at work. My desk is a mess (which, for an OCD neat freak perfectionist is synonymous with the 9th circle of hell), my to-do list is so long I wouldn't be able to finish it in a year even if I quit school/stopped sleeping & eating/and worked 168 hour weeks, and the staff and board are constantly wondering why I can't be the IT/HR/Admin/Outreach coordinator/accountant/banker/archive file clerk/mailroom clerk/PR and marketing/god-knows-what-else in the 20 hours a week they give me to work...that I still don't get paid for because there is NO MONEY IN THE BANK! I literally sat at my desk today and just stared at it for a good minute and a half, frozen wondering should I bother to clean up my desk or if should I try to accomplish a few things on my ever expanding to-do list? Our supply closet is a complete wreck* despite my efforts to keep it organized. Seriously people?! You can't even put shit where it is suppose to go?! I even put labels for you!!! A kindergartner is better at this than you are!
But, there might be a light at the end of the tunnel! :-) I have a job interview tomorrow with another business in town. One that can actually pay its employees! Oh the luxuries! Wish me luck! :-)
*I would include a photo of the wreckage, but as a nonprofit all of our furniture is donated and we have a very distinctive colored filing cabinet that might give away my super secret identity (and then the world would be doomed because I could no longer fight crime under the cover of darkness under my assumed identity of Neat Freak Girl!...And yes, the "!" is part of my name).
In other news, I think I have hit the wall at work. My desk is a mess (which, for an OCD neat freak perfectionist is synonymous with the 9th circle of hell), my to-do list is so long I wouldn't be able to finish it in a year even if I quit school/stopped sleeping & eating/and worked 168 hour weeks, and the staff and board are constantly wondering why I can't be the IT/HR/Admin/Outreach coordinator/accountant/banker/archive file clerk/mailroom clerk/PR and marketing/god-knows-what-else in the 20 hours a week they give me to work...that I still don't get paid for because there is NO MONEY IN THE BANK! I literally sat at my desk today and just stared at it for a good minute and a half, frozen wondering should I bother to clean up my desk or if should I try to accomplish a few things on my ever expanding to-do list? Our supply closet is a complete wreck* despite my efforts to keep it organized. Seriously people?! You can't even put shit where it is suppose to go?! I even put labels for you!!! A kindergartner is better at this than you are!
But, there might be a light at the end of the tunnel! :-) I have a job interview tomorrow with another business in town. One that can actually pay its employees! Oh the luxuries! Wish me luck! :-)
*I would include a photo of the wreckage, but as a nonprofit all of our furniture is donated and we have a very distinctive colored filing cabinet that might give away my super secret identity (and then the world would be doomed because I could no longer fight crime under the cover of darkness under my assumed identity of Neat Freak Girl!...And yes, the "!" is part of my name).
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