But I'm posting this anyway.
He's been taking classes at community college for a few years now, and started taking biology classes a year ago. I'm really proud of him for this. And also, it makes it possible for his to understand parts of what I talk about concerning med school. It's nice to have someone in my family who does.
They seem to be doing interesting labs this block. Last week, they did blood glucose, blood typing, and a blood smear for student volunteers in the class.* My dad came back with a random glucose of 197. First he told me it was "180-something" without looking at the sheet where he'd written the numbers down. I suspect he was subconsciously suppressing the truth.
So..... my dad is 3 points away from having diabetes. And since there is no particular magic about "200," I feel we should be saying that he has it.
And his BMI is only 24.5. Though he has put on 30 lbs in the 10 years since he retired and moved to CT. And though he has been good about exercising his brain, his only physical activity (since he quit participating in Summer Soccer which he runs at his church) has been walking from the house to the car and from the car to the house.
I am really NOT excited about this. Despite his sedentary lifestyle, his low BMI means to me that there is a strong genetic component. Type 2 DM is autosomal dominant. His dad had it too. Which means X marks the spot on little old me 30 years from now whether I get fat or not. If I get fat, it will mean 15 years from now.
F***.
I told him he needed to be more active. That he should think about trying to get back down to 165 (he weighs 171 now). That he could take the dog for a walk, cut out back to one dessert per day, or only one glass of wine. Surely he could do these things. They were small!
He had a colossal shit fit about it. He very indignantly told me that "didn't have time" to do things like take walks. He insinuated that I was asking too much of him and being a rude child. He got passive aggressive and defensive.
Denial anyone?
I ultimately tried to pitch the argument that really he wasn't "sick" now, and the disease was very manageable with MINOR changes in his lifestyle. And that I just wanted to make sure 20 years from now he didn't end up with pain in his legs when he walked or kidney failure.
He finally agreed to ride my mother's dormant exercise bicycle for 15 minutes a day. Last I heard, he's actually been doing it. I hope it's enough. At least it's a good start.
After we got off the phone, I sat on my couch in Philadelphia wondering how this scenario would have played out with a primary care patient. Probably, the same denial would have occurred, but the patient probably wouldn't have played the "bad behavior" card that parents can. They would have probably gone home quietly and continued doing all the things they always did. And they would return to my office 5 lbs fatter. Even if I did all the counseling in all the ways we have been taught to in medical school.
And, that is reason #5,000,001 that I cannot do primary care.
*Interestingly, the smear of one of the students was abnormal. Way too much blue. I think the teacher was concerned about leukemia. The student was 25. Freaky stuff!
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Friday, February 27, 2009
Sexism in Medicine
When I was on my Urology rotation, I spent a day watching cystoscopies* and TURPs.* I really wasn't allowed to do much more than watch the tv screen which showed the inside of the unconscious man's bladder or urethra.
One of the residents said to me, "If you want to practice rectal exams, go right ahead. He won't mind," gesturing to the unconscious male patient, "I'm sure you'll feel some pathology in this population."
Ah the contrast between Ob/Gyn and Urology. Between female patients and male patients. It seems only female orifices are girded with anti-med-student consent forms.
One wonders how this is.
.... I decided not to take him up on his offer.
*Looking in the bladder with a camera
*Surgical treatment for BPH* in which the prostate is scooped out with a curette where it is blocking the urethra. Definitive treatment for BPH (as opposed to pills like alpha blockers or 5-alpha reductase inhibitors).
*BPH = enlarged prostate
One of the residents said to me, "If you want to practice rectal exams, go right ahead. He won't mind," gesturing to the unconscious male patient, "I'm sure you'll feel some pathology in this population."
Ah the contrast between Ob/Gyn and Urology. Between female patients and male patients. It seems only female orifices are girded with anti-med-student consent forms.
One wonders how this is.
.... I decided not to take him up on his offer.
*Looking in the bladder with a camera
*Surgical treatment for BPH* in which the prostate is scooped out with a curette where it is blocking the urethra. Definitive treatment for BPH (as opposed to pills like alpha blockers or 5-alpha reductase inhibitors).
*BPH = enlarged prostate
On viruses
When people ask me what my husband does, I usually say, "He's a virologist."
Most people go, "WHAT?!"
"A virologist. Someone who studies viruses," I will say. The conversation usually ends there.
Sometimes when I'm feeling frisky I'll say, "A virologist. You know. Someone who studies virility."
People usually don't get it. They'll give me this look like they have no idea what I'm talking about. And that I'm being utterly inappropriate. But sometimes they do get it and they laugh.
You can tell a lot about a person that way.
Most people go, "WHAT?!"
"A virologist. Someone who studies viruses," I will say. The conversation usually ends there.
Sometimes when I'm feeling frisky I'll say, "A virologist. You know. Someone who studies virility."
People usually don't get it. They'll give me this look like they have no idea what I'm talking about. And that I'm being utterly inappropriate. But sometimes they do get it and they laugh.
You can tell a lot about a person that way.
Reason 5,000,000 I cannot go into primary care
The most disturbing things that I learned during my family practice rotation was that doctors lie to their patients. I had always suspected this when I went to my own internist in Chicago, but when I saw it first hand, it was very upsetting.
This lie happened when the office received its supply of the flu shot in early September and the office administrator had a giant freak out.
IT WAS TOO EARLY IN THE YEAR!!!! WHAT IF INSURANCE WOULDN'T PAY FOR IT????
Apparently, Medicare will pay for the flu shot only once every 360 days. I'm not sure why they felt the need to place this restriction since who goes to the doctor repeatedly during a year to request the same vaccine over and over again? But that is how it is. I can only think that the goal of the rule is to make sure that patients cannot get coverage from time to time, or to force them to pay out of pocket or forgo care occasionally.
So what did the office I was working in do? They told patients that they indeed had the flu shot in stock, but that if they got it in September, IT WOULDN'T LAST UNTIL THE END OF FLU SEASON.*
I.e. They lied to their patients.
To all of their patients.
Even the ones that didn't have Medicare as their insurance.
They simply told their patients that they had to make another appointment to come back for the shot in a month. How convenient! What an ingenious way to increase revenue! Kind of like giving an ECG to every patient over 40 at every yearly physical from then on, which this office did also.
I think what got under my skin the most wasn't that they told patients they had to come back, but they made up false scientific information and disseminated it to their patients rather than telling them that they had to come back for insurance reasons. They also wouldn't allow patients who couldn't come back in a month the option of getting the shot now and paying out of pocket if their insurance ended up denying coverage.
I just thought the whole thing was morally reprehensible.
Welcome to socialized medicine!
*Just in case you're confused, the reason that you have to get a flu shot every year is NOT because it becomes ineffective. It is because different strains of flu virus are in circulation every year. Nobody really knows how long vaccine conferred immunity to a particular strain lasts, but that period of time is certainly more than 4 months (confirmed by my husband the virologist).
This lie happened when the office received its supply of the flu shot in early September and the office administrator had a giant freak out.
IT WAS TOO EARLY IN THE YEAR!!!! WHAT IF INSURANCE WOULDN'T PAY FOR IT????
Apparently, Medicare will pay for the flu shot only once every 360 days. I'm not sure why they felt the need to place this restriction since who goes to the doctor repeatedly during a year to request the same vaccine over and over again? But that is how it is. I can only think that the goal of the rule is to make sure that patients cannot get coverage from time to time, or to force them to pay out of pocket or forgo care occasionally.
So what did the office I was working in do? They told patients that they indeed had the flu shot in stock, but that if they got it in September, IT WOULDN'T LAST UNTIL THE END OF FLU SEASON.*
I.e. They lied to their patients.
To all of their patients.
Even the ones that didn't have Medicare as their insurance.
They simply told their patients that they had to make another appointment to come back for the shot in a month. How convenient! What an ingenious way to increase revenue! Kind of like giving an ECG to every patient over 40 at every yearly physical from then on, which this office did also.
I think what got under my skin the most wasn't that they told patients they had to come back, but they made up false scientific information and disseminated it to their patients rather than telling them that they had to come back for insurance reasons. They also wouldn't allow patients who couldn't come back in a month the option of getting the shot now and paying out of pocket if their insurance ended up denying coverage.
I just thought the whole thing was morally reprehensible.
Welcome to socialized medicine!
*Just in case you're confused, the reason that you have to get a flu shot every year is NOT because it becomes ineffective. It is because different strains of flu virus are in circulation every year. Nobody really knows how long vaccine conferred immunity to a particular strain lasts, but that period of time is certainly more than 4 months (confirmed by my husband the virologist).
Thursday, February 26, 2009
The way I name my variables
Is one way I stick it to the man.
Today, I named the binary variable that denotes whether patients are 65 or older "old" for instance. I also made female 1 and male 0. High school education or less got a 0 as well.
Give me a little credit. At least I didn't call the "high baseline pain" variable "whininess factor."
Not that I actually believe any of these things. No, I just wanted to name them that way because I could.
My only opportunity to be non-PC. For some reason, it gave me perverse enjoyment. I think it was because I was breaking a "rule."
I like breaking rules.
Today, I named the binary variable that denotes whether patients are 65 or older "old" for instance. I also made female 1 and male 0. High school education or less got a 0 as well.
Give me a little credit. At least I didn't call the "high baseline pain" variable "whininess factor."
Not that I actually believe any of these things. No, I just wanted to name them that way because I could.
My only opportunity to be non-PC. For some reason, it gave me perverse enjoyment. I think it was because I was breaking a "rule."
I like breaking rules.
Sans email
Today I spent four hours doing work in the Epi study room on my new computer. It was completely silent. And I couldn't get my wireless internet working on my new computer.
It was the most productive four hours I've had in a long long while.
It was the most productive four hours I've had in a long long while.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
They call me Sisyphus
One of the things that was nice about my rotations last year, was that I was able to make some age appropriate friends. With residents. I did have one attending who was my age, but she was brand spanking new and felt all uncomfortable with her role as attending (it seemed), so I wasn't about to bring up, "Hey, you graduated from college in 1999?? So did I! Are you going back for your 10 year?"
She was much more interested in showing us that she was the boss.
I bring this up to highlight the fact that I was friended on facebook by one of my college classmates who was the kind of pre-med that everyone would recongize. From day one of college, she spoke incessantly about how the had received a 5 on every single one of the 7 AP courses she had taken, and that the only reason she was at the U of Chicago instead of Harvard was that Chicago had given her a free ride.
It's like, "Ok we get it. You're smart. Now let's go drink beer and get hit on by frat boys. Oh nevermind. You have to study."
She was the type that acted 40 when she was 20. You know. This is in contrast to me who continues to act 20 despite the fact that I'm approaching 32. Somehow, even though she made it very clear to me that she was smarter than I was, I still hung out with her. Maybe I realized that she'd never have even tried to compete with me if she'd thought I was unworthy. I didn't think about it too much at the time. Aside from the shameless self-promotion, she really wasn't a bad person. We actually had some interesting conversations.
She ended up moving out of the dorm after first year and we more or less lost touch.
She ended up marrying some guy who worked in the same office I did when I was doing my post-bac. (Yes Amy, THAT office. Good old MC LOVES this guy.)
Anyhow, she's now an attending in Boston somewhere. She has a baby (at least so it appears from the facebook picture). Even her husband who actually took time off before med school is a fellow now.
I don't even want to imagine what it would be like working as a student or resident on her service. The thought actually makes me feel like retching. (Look, 2nd vomit reference in two days!)
(But ha! I got into a "better" med school, so BITE ME WOMAN!!!) Ok, now that I have that out of my system, I feel better. No I'm not competitive. Never. :-) And also, she's an Ob/Gyn. Am I surprised? No......
Anyway, the friend request was in my inbox this morning, and it made me feel like shit. I'm not sure why other than I feel even further behind than ever before, and because starting this whole PhD thing -- even though I know that getting the degree is the right thing for me to do -- feels like I am pushing a giant boulder up Mt. Everest.
Ugh.
And on that note, better get started working on this poster, now that I spent all day yesterday cleaning data. Fun.
She was much more interested in showing us that she was the boss.
I bring this up to highlight the fact that I was friended on facebook by one of my college classmates who was the kind of pre-med that everyone would recongize. From day one of college, she spoke incessantly about how the had received a 5 on every single one of the 7 AP courses she had taken, and that the only reason she was at the U of Chicago instead of Harvard was that Chicago had given her a free ride.
It's like, "Ok we get it. You're smart. Now let's go drink beer and get hit on by frat boys. Oh nevermind. You have to study."
She was the type that acted 40 when she was 20. You know. This is in contrast to me who continues to act 20 despite the fact that I'm approaching 32. Somehow, even though she made it very clear to me that she was smarter than I was, I still hung out with her. Maybe I realized that she'd never have even tried to compete with me if she'd thought I was unworthy. I didn't think about it too much at the time. Aside from the shameless self-promotion, she really wasn't a bad person. We actually had some interesting conversations.
She ended up moving out of the dorm after first year and we more or less lost touch.
She ended up marrying some guy who worked in the same office I did when I was doing my post-bac. (Yes Amy, THAT office. Good old MC LOVES this guy.)
Anyhow, she's now an attending in Boston somewhere. She has a baby (at least so it appears from the facebook picture). Even her husband who actually took time off before med school is a fellow now.
I don't even want to imagine what it would be like working as a student or resident on her service. The thought actually makes me feel like retching. (Look, 2nd vomit reference in two days!)
(But ha! I got into a "better" med school, so BITE ME WOMAN!!!) Ok, now that I have that out of my system, I feel better. No I'm not competitive. Never. :-) And also, she's an Ob/Gyn. Am I surprised? No......
Anyway, the friend request was in my inbox this morning, and it made me feel like shit. I'm not sure why other than I feel even further behind than ever before, and because starting this whole PhD thing -- even though I know that getting the degree is the right thing for me to do -- feels like I am pushing a giant boulder up Mt. Everest.
Ugh.
And on that note, better get started working on this poster, now that I spent all day yesterday cleaning data. Fun.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
French Class
My memories of 6th grade French class are not fond ones. I had loved French in the 5th grade, but our lovely teacher with the lilting accent from the south of France had a baby, and quit her job.
To replace her, the school had hired Madame Berger. She was American. She was 23. Her name was pronounced like "hamburger" but she made us say "Madame Ber-jjjjjay" anyway.
We all hated her. Her class was beyond boring, we never learned anything, and she played favorites. When her favorite students would ask or answer a question, she would jump up and down with glee and do a pirouette in front of the class. Needless to say I was not her favorite. She responded to my inquiries with an annoyed tone and a roll of the eyes.
The thing was, the girl who was her most favorite, this prissy girl who I also was not fond of, would engage in the most flagrant ass-kissing I have ever heard in my life. When we learned about the verb "nager" to swim, she gushed about how, "Only in French would they break the rules of pronunciation to make a hard g soft so the word would sound beautiful. Because French is such a beautiful language!"
It made me want to barf. Miss. Berger ate it up. (The gushing, not my vomit.)
I hate brown nosers with a passion. So much so that in the past I have gone out of my way to avoid appearing as a brown noser. Like, I'd avoid paying a compliment if I thought there was a possibility that I'd end up working for that person again in the future. I did this because I didn't want my peers to hate me, or my superiors to think I was an ass-kisser.
My parents have told me on numerous occasions that I am completely ridiculous.
They're probably right.
The fact is, my peers hated me anyway (at least they did in elementary school), and while they were all kissing some ass of their own, all my superiors thought I was overly negative.
I just can't win with these things, can I.
How could this possibly be related to med school, you're asking.
Well, last night there was an ceremony to recognize our outstanding resident and faculty teachers from last year. The person I nominated won, so I got to introduce him saying all sorts of glowing things about him (because he is AWESOME) in my introduction, and he said something nice about me when he gave his acceptance speech.
Then later I went up to another one of my preceptors who also won, and congratulated him, telling him that he really deserved the award, that I had always looked forward to his sessions on Fridays, and that I looked forward to working with him again during my sub-i.
It was all totally true and heartfelt. But when I walked away, I choked. Some of my classmates had been there. Had they thought I was just kissing ass? It hadn't even occurred to me that that was how I might be interpreted. And I spoke with some other people in my class who were subsequently icy to me. Did they think I was the consummate brown noser?
OH MY GOD THEY THINK I'M JUST KISSING ASS! The anxiety washed over me.
Reflecting on it, I think I'm overreacting just a tad. Those two are often chilly to me, so if they thought that saying something nice to someone I'd worked with in the past was ass-kissing, who really cares. That's their problem.
And no matter how hard I try, I will NEVER be able to be the ass-kisser that the prissy girl in French class was. That girl was beyond the pale.
To replace her, the school had hired Madame Berger. She was American. She was 23. Her name was pronounced like "hamburger" but she made us say "Madame Ber-jjjjjay" anyway.
We all hated her. Her class was beyond boring, we never learned anything, and she played favorites. When her favorite students would ask or answer a question, she would jump up and down with glee and do a pirouette in front of the class. Needless to say I was not her favorite. She responded to my inquiries with an annoyed tone and a roll of the eyes.
The thing was, the girl who was her most favorite, this prissy girl who I also was not fond of, would engage in the most flagrant ass-kissing I have ever heard in my life. When we learned about the verb "nager" to swim, she gushed about how, "Only in French would they break the rules of pronunciation to make a hard g soft so the word would sound beautiful. Because French is such a beautiful language!"
It made me want to barf. Miss. Berger ate it up. (The gushing, not my vomit.)
I hate brown nosers with a passion. So much so that in the past I have gone out of my way to avoid appearing as a brown noser. Like, I'd avoid paying a compliment if I thought there was a possibility that I'd end up working for that person again in the future. I did this because I didn't want my peers to hate me, or my superiors to think I was an ass-kisser.
My parents have told me on numerous occasions that I am completely ridiculous.
They're probably right.
The fact is, my peers hated me anyway (at least they did in elementary school), and while they were all kissing some ass of their own, all my superiors thought I was overly negative.
I just can't win with these things, can I.
How could this possibly be related to med school, you're asking.
Well, last night there was an ceremony to recognize our outstanding resident and faculty teachers from last year. The person I nominated won, so I got to introduce him saying all sorts of glowing things about him (because he is AWESOME) in my introduction, and he said something nice about me when he gave his acceptance speech.
Then later I went up to another one of my preceptors who also won, and congratulated him, telling him that he really deserved the award, that I had always looked forward to his sessions on Fridays, and that I looked forward to working with him again during my sub-i.
It was all totally true and heartfelt. But when I walked away, I choked. Some of my classmates had been there. Had they thought I was just kissing ass? It hadn't even occurred to me that that was how I might be interpreted. And I spoke with some other people in my class who were subsequently icy to me. Did they think I was the consummate brown noser?
OH MY GOD THEY THINK I'M JUST KISSING ASS! The anxiety washed over me.
Reflecting on it, I think I'm overreacting just a tad. Those two are often chilly to me, so if they thought that saying something nice to someone I'd worked with in the past was ass-kissing, who really cares. That's their problem.
And no matter how hard I try, I will NEVER be able to be the ass-kisser that the prissy girl in French class was. That girl was beyond the pale.
Monday, February 23, 2009
The saga continues
So remember last week when I got stood up by a potential mentor? Not because of anything like saving lives or anything, but because he had forgotten to put the meeting in his schedule....
He did end up apologizing via email, which was decent I guess. And I left it such that if he wanted to reschedule for the next couple of days (i.e. Tues, Wed, Thurs, Fri of LAST week) that would be fine. But since I was planning on being out of town most of this week (except today) and would be starting in the hospital again next week, if those days didn't work, why didn't we just consider meeting in July since it wasn't urgent?
I was very clear and polite. I figured I had killed the issue when I didn't hear from him again.
Until Friday afternoon.
"OldMDGirl, Over the next two weeks, is there a time that would suit you?"
One wonders why I even try sometimes.
The obvious answer to the question, "Did he even read my last email?" is, "No he did not."
I resisted the temptation to reply: As per my previous email dated 2/17/09, I am unavailable until July. You F-wad. It was difficult.**
I had to wait for my husband to get home to email back. We needed to decide if/when we were planning on taking a mini-vac this week, maybe to NYC or something for a day or two. So I finally emailed him back either early Sat AM or late Fri PM that I could meet today before 10:30 (I guess that's out now), or Tues, Wed, or Thurs.
I still haven't heard back.
Of course, maybe he's one of those people who doesn't check his email on the weekends....
Yeah Right.
I'd really like to know so I can, oh I don't know, PLAN MY OWN DAMN LIFE, rather than sit around wondering if he'll actually get back to me.
All of this bulls*** reminds me of what it was like when I interviewed here. THAT was horrendous. Perhaps I'll tell that story someday. One could argue that I've known it was going to be like this since that fateful day, 2/2/06 when I interviewed here. It's interesting when your gut turns out to be right.
**I would have actually written back a more polite version of this. Except my lovely main Epi advisor told me at my meeting on Friday that I had to have a mentor by June so that they could figure out how to fund me. June, you say? I thought everyone had told you that you didn't have to figure any of this out until next January? Indeed. This was the first I'd heard of any deadline in "June" myself. Don't you love how organized my program is? I know I do. Good thing I have my s*** together and went ahead and had all these meetings now, even though I was told repeatedly it wasn't urgent. Sigh.
He did end up apologizing via email, which was decent I guess. And I left it such that if he wanted to reschedule for the next couple of days (i.e. Tues, Wed, Thurs, Fri of LAST week) that would be fine. But since I was planning on being out of town most of this week (except today) and would be starting in the hospital again next week, if those days didn't work, why didn't we just consider meeting in July since it wasn't urgent?
I was very clear and polite. I figured I had killed the issue when I didn't hear from him again.
Until Friday afternoon.
"OldMDGirl, Over the next two weeks, is there a time that would suit you?"
One wonders why I even try sometimes.
The obvious answer to the question, "Did he even read my last email?" is, "No he did not."
I resisted the temptation to reply: As per my previous email dated 2/17/09, I am unavailable until July. You F-wad. It was difficult.**
I had to wait for my husband to get home to email back. We needed to decide if/when we were planning on taking a mini-vac this week, maybe to NYC or something for a day or two. So I finally emailed him back either early Sat AM or late Fri PM that I could meet today before 10:30 (I guess that's out now), or Tues, Wed, or Thurs.
I still haven't heard back.
Of course, maybe he's one of those people who doesn't check his email on the weekends....
Yeah Right.
I'd really like to know so I can, oh I don't know, PLAN MY OWN DAMN LIFE, rather than sit around wondering if he'll actually get back to me.
All of this bulls*** reminds me of what it was like when I interviewed here. THAT was horrendous. Perhaps I'll tell that story someday. One could argue that I've known it was going to be like this since that fateful day, 2/2/06 when I interviewed here. It's interesting when your gut turns out to be right.
**I would have actually written back a more polite version of this. Except my lovely main Epi advisor told me at my meeting on Friday that I had to have a mentor by June so that they could figure out how to fund me. June, you say? I thought everyone had told you that you didn't have to figure any of this out until next January? Indeed. This was the first I'd heard of any deadline in "June" myself. Don't you love how organized my program is? I know I do. Good thing I have my s*** together and went ahead and had all these meetings now, even though I was told repeatedly it wasn't urgent. Sigh.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
5 lbs o meatballs
Which was (to be precise) Gorgonzola filled meatballs with tomato-onion cream sauce. Hijacked from Rachel Ray's 30 minute meals.
Oh. My. God.
They were totally amazing.
I now feel like I have a ball of cement (more accurately, two balls since I had 2 meatballs) sitting in my stomach. And I ate them 14 hours ago!
My poor husband ate 3 and had heartburn all night. Poverino! I'm sure he enjoyed them at the time. I was actually annoyed* because we had 8 total, and our guest and he ate 3 apiece, leaving ZERO leftovers for me to indulge in this week. He's still asleep in bed. And it's 8:30! This has to be some kind of record for him.
During this whole process, I realized how much I miss cooking! And how little of it I did last year during my clerkships! I start my electives in roughly a week, and I keep telling myself it will be better. No shelf exams for starters, which means we can read what interests us. And my first three months have no call and no weekends.
I really hope it will be better, at least. I can say that while I like clinical medicine, I am kind of dreading being back in the hospital again. In the hospital where your every move is being hovered over. Where you have strict hours that you have to be present. Blegh.
*********
So this afternoon (If Luca ever gets out of bed....) we are going house hunting again. I think our realtor is annoyed with us since we kind of have to have parking with anytihng we'd consider buying, and well, pretty much nothing has parking in Philadelphia under 450K. It's not *entirely* true (we saw two properties with parking when we went a few weeks ago), but it's mostly true. She keeps trying to show us these adorable 840 sq ft* row houses that don't have parking that are out of our price range. It's beginning to get annoying.
On another house-hunting note though, she told us that one of the houses that we thought was cute had two potential buyers. (Dark and sinister music) Apparently, two med students told her they'd put an offer on it if they ended up matching here. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!
She then asked me if I knew when that was. Wasn't it in a week or something? This was in mid-February, so I was happy to inform her that in fact the match wasn't taking place for another month.
What I didn't tell her was, "Quit trying to pressure us, lady! It's not working anyway since these two alleged med students HAVE NO CONTROL OVER THE MATCH PROCESS, and could actually end up anywhere."
As for the houses, my husband and I are really not in a hurry. If something we like now sells to someone else, so be it. There will be more inventory in July. It will be fine.
*I'm not really annoyed.
*They are miniscule.
Oh. My. God.
They were totally amazing.
I now feel like I have a ball of cement (more accurately, two balls since I had 2 meatballs) sitting in my stomach. And I ate them 14 hours ago!
My poor husband ate 3 and had heartburn all night. Poverino! I'm sure he enjoyed them at the time. I was actually annoyed* because we had 8 total, and our guest and he ate 3 apiece, leaving ZERO leftovers for me to indulge in this week. He's still asleep in bed. And it's 8:30! This has to be some kind of record for him.
During this whole process, I realized how much I miss cooking! And how little of it I did last year during my clerkships! I start my electives in roughly a week, and I keep telling myself it will be better. No shelf exams for starters, which means we can read what interests us. And my first three months have no call and no weekends.
I really hope it will be better, at least. I can say that while I like clinical medicine, I am kind of dreading being back in the hospital again. In the hospital where your every move is being hovered over. Where you have strict hours that you have to be present. Blegh.
*********
So this afternoon (If Luca ever gets out of bed....) we are going house hunting again. I think our realtor is annoyed with us since we kind of have to have parking with anytihng we'd consider buying, and well, pretty much nothing has parking in Philadelphia under 450K. It's not *entirely* true (we saw two properties with parking when we went a few weeks ago), but it's mostly true. She keeps trying to show us these adorable 840 sq ft* row houses that don't have parking that are out of our price range. It's beginning to get annoying.
On another house-hunting note though, she told us that one of the houses that we thought was cute had two potential buyers. (Dark and sinister music) Apparently, two med students told her they'd put an offer on it if they ended up matching here. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!
She then asked me if I knew when that was. Wasn't it in a week or something? This was in mid-February, so I was happy to inform her that in fact the match wasn't taking place for another month.
What I didn't tell her was, "Quit trying to pressure us, lady! It's not working anyway since these two alleged med students HAVE NO CONTROL OVER THE MATCH PROCESS, and could actually end up anywhere."
As for the houses, my husband and I are really not in a hurry. If something we like now sells to someone else, so be it. There will be more inventory in July. It will be fine.
*I'm not really annoyed.
*They are miniscule.
Friday, February 20, 2009
The blonde brigade
Do you know any neurosurgeons? My guess is, if you don't work in health care, there is NO WAY you know any. Why? Because neurosurgeons are in the hospital literally all the time. Even as attendings they work crazy hours.
Somehow they finagled it so that the 80 work week regulations did not apply to them. I think they do 90 or something like that. And they violate even those restrictions with impunity. It was only a couple of years ago that the program at our hospital went from Q2 call all through residency to Q3. It's the only specialty where second year is harder than intern year. AND IT DOESN'T GET THAT MUCH BETTER as you ascend through the ranks.
I remember one night on trauma we had a patient come in who had some spine fractures on CT. Nothing emergent -- I think it was spinous process, and the patient was already in a C-collar -- but something that would at least need a neurosurgery consult, and possibly surgery later on. The resident on trauma debated with me whether we should call the neurosurgery resident now -- it was 3:30AM -- or whether we should wait a few hours on the off chance that the resident was sleeping.
I told him, "Yeah, the team is going to be rounding in like, an hour and a half. They're no doubt running all over the hospital getting numbers. Those people never sleep. Just call." And sure enough, the resident was awake and came down to see the patient before 4:30 had rolled around.
With all this as background, it was with great amusement when I showed up on the first day of my neurosurgery rotation and came across the blonde brigade.
A few years back, I guess, the hospital had decided that the surgeons needed help taking care of the floor (non-ICU) patients during the day, and that this job could be done by nurses just as well as by doctors. As a rare concession to their residents, they hired RNs to do this. But not just any RNs.
It was as though the neurosurgeons (all men) got together and said, "This damn hospital is making us hire RNs to help run the floor during the day. They're going to make our residents soft dammit! Well, if we have to hire them, let's at least make sure they're hot."
And so it was, that Victoria's Secret models were hired to do the job that the residents used to have to do.
They would arrive at 5:30 to round with us, with their perfect make-up and naturally blonde hair pulled back into a slick bun. Even a frumpy pair of scrubs couldn't hide the 36-24-36 measurements on their colt-like 5'10 frames. It seriously looked as though they had stepped directly off the plane from the photo shoot at St. Barts, thrown a pair of scrubs over their bikinis and their hair back into a bun, and gone to work on the neuro floor.
And they would strut through the halls, their imaginary catwalks, as you might imagine three bond girls would walk. They were truly a sight to behold.
It was enough to make even a passably cute med student feel mighty unattractive. I think the guys who did the rotation appreciated it though. I know the residents did.
Given the hours they work, I really can't say that I blamed them.
Somehow they finagled it so that the 80 work week regulations did not apply to them. I think they do 90 or something like that. And they violate even those restrictions with impunity. It was only a couple of years ago that the program at our hospital went from Q2 call all through residency to Q3. It's the only specialty where second year is harder than intern year. AND IT DOESN'T GET THAT MUCH BETTER as you ascend through the ranks.
I remember one night on trauma we had a patient come in who had some spine fractures on CT. Nothing emergent -- I think it was spinous process, and the patient was already in a C-collar -- but something that would at least need a neurosurgery consult, and possibly surgery later on. The resident on trauma debated with me whether we should call the neurosurgery resident now -- it was 3:30AM -- or whether we should wait a few hours on the off chance that the resident was sleeping.
I told him, "Yeah, the team is going to be rounding in like, an hour and a half. They're no doubt running all over the hospital getting numbers. Those people never sleep. Just call." And sure enough, the resident was awake and came down to see the patient before 4:30 had rolled around.
With all this as background, it was with great amusement when I showed up on the first day of my neurosurgery rotation and came across the blonde brigade.
A few years back, I guess, the hospital had decided that the surgeons needed help taking care of the floor (non-ICU) patients during the day, and that this job could be done by nurses just as well as by doctors. As a rare concession to their residents, they hired RNs to do this. But not just any RNs.
It was as though the neurosurgeons (all men) got together and said, "This damn hospital is making us hire RNs to help run the floor during the day. They're going to make our residents soft dammit! Well, if we have to hire them, let's at least make sure they're hot."
And so it was, that Victoria's Secret models were hired to do the job that the residents used to have to do.
They would arrive at 5:30 to round with us, with their perfect make-up and naturally blonde hair pulled back into a slick bun. Even a frumpy pair of scrubs couldn't hide the 36-24-36 measurements on their colt-like 5'10 frames. It seriously looked as though they had stepped directly off the plane from the photo shoot at St. Barts, thrown a pair of scrubs over their bikinis and their hair back into a bun, and gone to work on the neuro floor.
And they would strut through the halls, their imaginary catwalks, as you might imagine three bond girls would walk. They were truly a sight to behold.
It was enough to make even a passably cute med student feel mighty unattractive. I think the guys who did the rotation appreciated it though. I know the residents did.
Given the hours they work, I really can't say that I blamed them.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
KA
Today's meeting was actually relatively productive. The person actually knew who I was, why I wanted to meet with her, and seemed interested in talking with me.
And to be honest, I wouldn't mind growing up to be just like her. Too bad I have such a long way to go.
She is an internist who does oncology research. I was curious why she'd not done an onc fellowship, so I asked. She said that she really preferred the problem solving in internal medicine, and that administering cookbook chemo regimens to patients seemed boring to her. That, and half of your onc patients die, and people have a tendency to get really burnt out. And the lifestyle is a lot harder. It didn't bother her at all when patients didn't actually have anything wrong with them.
I thought these were really, REALLY interesting thoughts. The only thing is, I couldn't stand out-patient medicine, the reasons for which deserve a post of its own. When patients had acute complaints, THAT was actually interesting to me. I got to use my brain. The problem was, I'd see one acute complaint for every 10 diabetic hypertensives, and then we'd inevitably refer it out. On the inpatient side similarly, it seemed like we saw the same things over and over again.
Well, there was that and the fact that I felt completely picked apart and demoralized by many of the people who did internal medicine, which is not something I want to have to face every day for the rest of my life.
Still, this woman has so much energy, and her research is completely fascinating. She was a good sales person for internal medicine, that's for sure.
I suppose I have to carve out my own niche, and figure out what I really like clinically as well as from a research standpoint. I don't know how the heck I'm going to do it.
And to be honest, I wouldn't mind growing up to be just like her. Too bad I have such a long way to go.
She is an internist who does oncology research. I was curious why she'd not done an onc fellowship, so I asked. She said that she really preferred the problem solving in internal medicine, and that administering cookbook chemo regimens to patients seemed boring to her. That, and half of your onc patients die, and people have a tendency to get really burnt out. And the lifestyle is a lot harder. It didn't bother her at all when patients didn't actually have anything wrong with them.
I thought these were really, REALLY interesting thoughts. The only thing is, I couldn't stand out-patient medicine, the reasons for which deserve a post of its own. When patients had acute complaints, THAT was actually interesting to me. I got to use my brain. The problem was, I'd see one acute complaint for every 10 diabetic hypertensives, and then we'd inevitably refer it out. On the inpatient side similarly, it seemed like we saw the same things over and over again.
Well, there was that and the fact that I felt completely picked apart and demoralized by many of the people who did internal medicine, which is not something I want to have to face every day for the rest of my life.
Still, this woman has so much energy, and her research is completely fascinating. She was a good sales person for internal medicine, that's for sure.
I suppose I have to carve out my own niche, and figure out what I really like clinically as well as from a research standpoint. I don't know how the heck I'm going to do it.
Cell Phone
One of my biggest pet peeves is when I'm in a meeting with someone, and their cell phone rings. It's the person's plumber (for instance). Then they stay on the phone with them for 5 minutes explaining what needs to be done.
Then they come back to the meeting. Apologizing, of course, for the interruption. And now the meeting has been blown off track and you waste another five minutes remembering where you left off.
And then it happens again.
This happened when I was interviewing for med school. It was around Christmas time, and one of the doctors who interviewed me took a 15 minute call with her husband on her cell phone in the middle of the interview to discuss what presents he should buy for their kids.
I'm sorry, I don't care how important you are, but this just isn't acceptable to me. Just like being chronically late to meetings is not acceptable. Or telling me that the reason you didn't reply to my email is because, "I get SO MANY emails a day, I can't possibly reply to them all."
Translation: Even though you are my ONLY advisee in the PhD program and you are writing a paper for me, you are not important enough for me to acknowledge. And here, let me remind you of your insignificant status and try to make you feel bad about being annoyed about being blown off.
Not like this kind of stuff happens to me often or anything.....
I can say I never ran into this behavior so much until I came to my current institution. What is wrong with these people that they lack all common courtesy?
Then they come back to the meeting. Apologizing, of course, for the interruption. And now the meeting has been blown off track and you waste another five minutes remembering where you left off.
And then it happens again.
This happened when I was interviewing for med school. It was around Christmas time, and one of the doctors who interviewed me took a 15 minute call with her husband on her cell phone in the middle of the interview to discuss what presents he should buy for their kids.
I'm sorry, I don't care how important you are, but this just isn't acceptable to me. Just like being chronically late to meetings is not acceptable. Or telling me that the reason you didn't reply to my email is because, "I get SO MANY emails a day, I can't possibly reply to them all."
Translation: Even though you are my ONLY advisee in the PhD program and you are writing a paper for me, you are not important enough for me to acknowledge. And here, let me remind you of your insignificant status and try to make you feel bad about being annoyed about being blown off.
Not like this kind of stuff happens to me often or anything.....
I can say I never ran into this behavior so much until I came to my current institution. What is wrong with these people that they lack all common courtesy?
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
To The Man: FU
Over Christmas, my husband bought a pair of red Doc Marten's boots. They have yellow laces. He wears them to work. To his job in corporate America.
When he bought them, all I could think was that they were ugly. That the didn't go with his khakis and button down shirts. That geez, couldn't he just wear BLACK Doc Martins?
Over time however I've come to appreciate these boots. I think my epiphany came one day when he said something along the lines of, "Well, I can't tell the VP of marketing that he's a moron to his face and to go f himself. That would get me fired. So I wear my boots. My boots are my way of saying FU to The Man without ever having to actually say FU."
There is and will always be a soft spot in my heart for sticking it to The Man. I think this stems from my inborn distrust of authority figures. *I* feel this is a healthy distrust, though authority figures may differ. But the upshot of our conversation is that I now encourage him to wear the boots as often as possible.
I also made him use the yellow laces, which he had initially cast aside because they were TOO GAUDY.
The boots made me think about whether I still engage in subtle -- or not-so-subtle -- acts of rebellion as I did in my pre-med school years, or whether med school has turned me into a brainless conformist twat who prattles on about professionalism.
And I think these days, the closest I ever come to any kind of rebellion whatsoever is via this blog.
So sad. Is this what it means to be a grown-up? Am I the only one who still relishes being rebellious?
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
I guess once you become an attending
being unprofessional comes with the territory.
My 9AM meeting failed to show up. Now the question is, do I cross him off my list entirely.
I think so.
Asshole.
My 9AM meeting failed to show up. Now the question is, do I cross him off my list entirely.
I think so.
Asshole.
And on to my next meeting....
Will it ever end?
And then there's another one tomorrow.
Hopefully they will be better than that one was last week.
Also, I need to work on this paper I've been putting off. Interesting how when I was studying for my boards, I really wanted to work on the thing, but now I am dreading it all over again....
A hair cut is also in order. That should be fun though.
Maybe a swim too? I haven't been in over a week.
Luca and I decided to save our vacation for later in the year, since he has a more limited amount than I do this year. Plus with all the house buying stuff we're thinking about doing, we might need it more later. But now I feel like I'm about to squander 13 days of freedom doing meetings and more work. So then it's not really vacation. :-P
It should be lower pressure though, at least. Now all I have to do is stop dreaming about questions on the boards and I will be all set.
And then there's another one tomorrow.
Hopefully they will be better than that one was last week.
Also, I need to work on this paper I've been putting off. Interesting how when I was studying for my boards, I really wanted to work on the thing, but now I am dreading it all over again....
A hair cut is also in order. That should be fun though.
Maybe a swim too? I haven't been in over a week.
Luca and I decided to save our vacation for later in the year, since he has a more limited amount than I do this year. Plus with all the house buying stuff we're thinking about doing, we might need it more later. But now I feel like I'm about to squander 13 days of freedom doing meetings and more work. So then it's not really vacation. :-P
It should be lower pressure though, at least. Now all I have to do is stop dreaming about questions on the boards and I will be all set.
Monday, February 16, 2009
How was it?
Well, it wasn't as easy as I wanted it to be, but it was about the same as USMLE World with less minutia. Which is to say, I'm sure it went fine. There were strings of questions which were obscenely easy followed by strings where you were like, um.... what are they talking about?
They probably balanced out in the end. At least I hope they did.
I think the most awesome question of the whole exam was the following:
A 7 year old boy has just been in a major school bus accident and is rushed to the ED. His parents aren't there yet, and he doesn't want to talk. What do you do?
A. Shake the boy by the shoulders until he talks.
B. Shout, "What the hell is wrong with you? Talk dammit!"
C. Try to engage him by giving him some toys to play with.
D. Ignore him until he gets bored and starts wandering around the ED.
CLEARLY the answer is B. I mean come on. Do they think we're idiots or something?
Haha. I am so witty. Seriously, I can't believe they put these questions on these exams.
There was a surprisingly large amount of epidemiology. Yay epidemiology!
And now? I'm not sure what to do with myself. I should probably go for a run. That would be "good" for me. But what I really want is a glass of wine. Now. And some tv.
Yum.
WOOHOO!!!! I'M DONE WITH STEP 1!!!!
They probably balanced out in the end. At least I hope they did.
I think the most awesome question of the whole exam was the following:
A 7 year old boy has just been in a major school bus accident and is rushed to the ED. His parents aren't there yet, and he doesn't want to talk. What do you do?
A. Shake the boy by the shoulders until he talks.
B. Shout, "What the hell is wrong with you? Talk dammit!"
C. Try to engage him by giving him some toys to play with.
D. Ignore him until he gets bored and starts wandering around the ED.
CLEARLY the answer is B. I mean come on. Do they think we're idiots or something?
Haha. I am so witty. Seriously, I can't believe they put these questions on these exams.
There was a surprisingly large amount of epidemiology. Yay epidemiology!
And now? I'm not sure what to do with myself. I should probably go for a run. That would be "good" for me. But what I really want is a glass of wine. Now. And some tv.
Yum.
WOOHOO!!!! I'M DONE WITH STEP 1!!!!
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Long White Coat
A few months ago I walked into the Epi study room. This is a room where the Epidemiology masters and PhD students sit and socialize do their work while they're on campus, since there seems to be no office space anywhere. Anywhere.
I usually need ear plugs when I go there, highlighting one of my main gripes with this University (valuing "networking" over "learning" and "studying" a la Wharton-style and hence having no actual quiet places to study anywhere on campus) but that is beside the point.
One of my PhD-only* classmates was there, so I stopped by to say hi. And what do you know? Over her cubicle wall was draped a long white coat. I guess she'd started doing data collection in the clinics and thought it allowed her to fit in better at the clinic and lent her a sense of authority with the patients.
I asked, "Where'd you get the white coat?"
"Oh you can just buy one at Dolby's."
"I have to go to medical school to earn an extra 12 inches on my coat. I can't even GET it for another 5 years (when I'm done with my PhD AND MD), and you can just walk up to Dolby's and buy one?" I said, quasi-jokingly. "So totally unfair."
"You could buy one too," she said.
"HA! I'd probably be kicked out of medical school if I did that. For being unprofessional or something."
You know, I joke about this, but it actually did annoy me. Greatly. A study recently came out in Chicago about how more than 50% of patients can't identify the doctor when they are in the hospital. And now I know why.
Well one reason anyway.
Sheesh. You'd have thought this degree might be worth something.
*As in: She had to date completed neither an MD OR an PhD.
I usually need ear plugs when I go there, highlighting one of my main gripes with this University (valuing "networking" over "learning" and "studying" a la Wharton-style and hence having no actual quiet places to study anywhere on campus) but that is beside the point.
One of my PhD-only* classmates was there, so I stopped by to say hi. And what do you know? Over her cubicle wall was draped a long white coat. I guess she'd started doing data collection in the clinics and thought it allowed her to fit in better at the clinic and lent her a sense of authority with the patients.
I asked, "Where'd you get the white coat?"
"Oh you can just buy one at Dolby's."
"I have to go to medical school to earn an extra 12 inches on my coat. I can't even GET it for another 5 years (when I'm done with my PhD AND MD), and you can just walk up to Dolby's and buy one?" I said, quasi-jokingly. "So totally unfair."
"You could buy one too," she said.
"HA! I'd probably be kicked out of medical school if I did that. For being unprofessional or something."
You know, I joke about this, but it actually did annoy me. Greatly. A study recently came out in Chicago about how more than 50% of patients can't identify the doctor when they are in the hospital. And now I know why.
Well one reason anyway.
Sheesh. You'd have thought this degree might be worth something.
*As in: She had to date completed neither an MD OR an PhD.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Small Town
Whenever you go out in Philly, you are practically GUARANTEED to run into someone you know. Particularly if you are in the west part of Center City.
Still, last night I wasn't expecting to run into Max Grinnell, an old friend from the University of Chicago.
He's a writer now. And he has a blog, so I've linked him (The Urbanologist). Reading some of his work reminds me of what I miss about Chicago.
Still, last night I wasn't expecting to run into Max Grinnell, an old friend from the University of Chicago.
He's a writer now. And he has a blog, so I've linked him (The Urbanologist). Reading some of his work reminds me of what I miss about Chicago.
What is a gunner?
To me, a gunner is someone who maliciously steps on other people in order to get ahead. A person for whom "winning" is the most important thing and who will stop at nothing to achieve his/her goals. Who backstabs and cheats.
Basically the med student version of a person with antisocial personality disorder.
To be honest, I don't know a soul who is actually like this, but the term gunner still gets thrown around all the time.
Gunners are:
- People who answer questions in class.
- People who get better grades than I do.
- People who turn their work in on time.
- People who desire to do well in school.
- People who seem to care about really understanding the material versus cramming for an exam.
- People who want a competitive residency (ortho, rads, you know...)
So what is a "gunner" really? It a person who just makes you feel like you're not as good as they are? Who makes you feel like you ought to be studying harder?
Not unlike personality disorders, it seems that the term "gunner" may say more about the person who throws it around than the person they label.
Thoughts? Do you know any *actual* gunners? What kinds of horrendous things did they do?
Spill.
Basically the med student version of a person with antisocial personality disorder.
To be honest, I don't know a soul who is actually like this, but the term gunner still gets thrown around all the time.
Gunners are:
- People who answer questions in class.
- People who get better grades than I do.
- People who turn their work in on time.
- People who desire to do well in school.
- People who seem to care about really understanding the material versus cramming for an exam.
- People who want a competitive residency (ortho, rads, you know...)
So what is a "gunner" really? It a person who just makes you feel like you're not as good as they are? Who makes you feel like you ought to be studying harder?
Not unlike personality disorders, it seems that the term "gunner" may say more about the person who throws it around than the person they label.
Thoughts? Do you know any *actual* gunners? What kinds of horrendous things did they do?
Spill.
Friday, February 13, 2009
Sometimes med students just SUCK!!!!
Yesterday walking home from a little change-o-venue studying, I ran into a more advanced MudPhud. I.e. one who has ALREADY taken the boards. Like, years ago.
Anyway, he asked me when the "big day" was, and I told him. Next Monday. T-3 days and counting.
And then I said that I was tired of studying and that I wished I'd just taken the damn thing a week ago, even if it had meant messing up my perfect study plan. I had done fine on a practice test and wished I'd had the balls to just get it over with.
And what was his reply?
Well, OldMDGirl, it IS actually important that you do WELL on the boards, you know. For RESIDENCY. I mean, they use the same score cut-offs for MD-onlies and MD-PhDs you know, for the competitive specialties. Like Ortho, Derm, etc.
(Do I emanate a desire to be an orthopedic surgeon or something? Weird.)
Anyway, I told him that I was probably going into Neuro/Psych/Internal Medicine or something else NOT competitive (though I'd really like a residency with protected research time, please?). And then I turned off to go to my building, which fortunately was in an opposite direction to his.
WTF!!! Is it considered rude or something to express annoyance at having to continue to study rather than panic?
Fortunately this will all be over soon.
Anyway, he asked me when the "big day" was, and I told him. Next Monday. T-3 days and counting.
And then I said that I was tired of studying and that I wished I'd just taken the damn thing a week ago, even if it had meant messing up my perfect study plan. I had done fine on a practice test and wished I'd had the balls to just get it over with.
And what was his reply?
Well, OldMDGirl, it IS actually important that you do WELL on the boards, you know. For RESIDENCY. I mean, they use the same score cut-offs for MD-onlies and MD-PhDs you know, for the competitive specialties. Like Ortho, Derm, etc.
(Do I emanate a desire to be an orthopedic surgeon or something? Weird.)
Anyway, I told him that I was probably going into Neuro/Psych/Internal Medicine or something else NOT competitive (though I'd really like a residency with protected research time, please?). And then I turned off to go to my building, which fortunately was in an opposite direction to his.
WTF!!! Is it considered rude or something to express annoyance at having to continue to study rather than panic?
Fortunately this will all be over soon.
Laying it on thick
When I graduated from college, I naively thought that if you asked someone to do something for you -- in the workplace, when said task was part of their job -- they would do it.
*I* would do it.
I realize now this isn't true. Oh, the person might get around to doing what you asked eventually, but never soon enough for you or your boss.
Which leads me to my dictum -- People will always be happier to do what you tell them if they feel like they are HELPING you than if they feel like they have to. Having them like you also helps a lot. Making them like you is the trick.
Step 1: If possible, go in person to ask them for "a favor." Email is never as effective. NEVER. The phone can be ok, but usually works better if they can connect a face to a name.
The second part is also critical. The FAVOR part. Say something like, "I am so sorry to bother you about this, but I was hoping you could HELP ME OUT with XYZ," or, "I know you're really busy, and dealing with us new people has got to be really frustrating, but if you could tell me how to do XYZ I'll be out of your hair in a minute." It also conveys a little urgency without being over the top.
It sounds fake and canned, but it works. Remember how you felt the last time your boss came up to you and in a passive aggressive tone of voice told you to do something right away (or else)? Remember how pissed off that made you? How excited to do the work for him? You wanted to shove that stapler up his ass, didn't you. It's the same when you ask people to do things for you.
Step 2: Appeal to the ego. Say, "I've heard you're the EXPERT/ the person to talk to about/ the best at XYZ here." You can say this even if it's not true. A little flattery never hurt anyone.
Step 3: Engage in a little benign chit-chat if the person seems like she/he wants to. Act interested (even if you're not). And if you see them again, ask them about whatever they just told you about. If chit-chat is not possible, find something of theirs to complement (Woman-to-woman situations only --> you don't want to get reported to HR for sexual harassment.). "What a lovely pair of earrings!" for instance, is often sufficient to do the trick.
Step 4: If they are an asshole to you anyway (this happens not infrequently) you need to be unflappingly positive and cheerful. Smile genuinely anyway. Set a deadline for them with their help. Something like, "It sounds like you have a lot on your plate here today. Should I come back later?" Or, "Do you mind if I bug you again at 2 to see how XYZ is coming along?"
Step 5: When they do said "favor" for you, thank them PROFUSELY. (Ok, don't get too crazy, but you know what I mean.)
And remember, even if you do all of these things, someone might just take you the wrong way anyway and become irate regardless of what you do. Usually in that case the bast thing to do is to sit there and take it. Apologize. Say, "I seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot today. I don't know what's wrong with me! Let's start over." Or, "That sounds really overwhelming. Any reasonable person would feel the way you do."
Sometimes you can convert them. Sometimes you can't.
And sometimes they'll get you in trouble no matter what you say. I still haven't figured out how to handle these situations. Whenever something like that happens, I feel like I'm 10 years old sitting in the principal's office getting reamed out for something I did or did not do, and I'm completely paralyzed. I know that nobody will believe me or listen to me no matter what I say, so I tend to clam up.
Alas, even being nice can backfire on occasion. I've had several female attendings tell me in the past year that I should assert myself more. Just TELL people to do things. That if I don't, people won't do what I say. That AS A WOMAN, it's important to do this, otherwise people won't take you seriously.
Personally, I think this is a load of crap. But nonetheless when I've received this feedback I've said, "Thank you so much for taking the time to give me this useful advice!"
And then I've gone vomit in the bathroom next door.
Because you DEFINITELY catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. But you also catch more flies with manure than you do with honey.
*I* would do it.
I realize now this isn't true. Oh, the person might get around to doing what you asked eventually, but never soon enough for you or your boss.
Which leads me to my dictum -- People will always be happier to do what you tell them if they feel like they are HELPING you than if they feel like they have to. Having them like you also helps a lot. Making them like you is the trick.
Step 1: If possible, go in person to ask them for "a favor." Email is never as effective. NEVER. The phone can be ok, but usually works better if they can connect a face to a name.
The second part is also critical. The FAVOR part. Say something like, "I am so sorry to bother you about this, but I was hoping you could HELP ME OUT with XYZ," or, "I know you're really busy, and dealing with us new people has got to be really frustrating, but if you could tell me how to do XYZ I'll be out of your hair in a minute." It also conveys a little urgency without being over the top.
It sounds fake and canned, but it works. Remember how you felt the last time your boss came up to you and in a passive aggressive tone of voice told you to do something right away (or else)? Remember how pissed off that made you? How excited to do the work for him? You wanted to shove that stapler up his ass, didn't you. It's the same when you ask people to do things for you.
Step 2: Appeal to the ego. Say, "I've heard you're the EXPERT/ the person to talk to about/ the best at XYZ here." You can say this even if it's not true. A little flattery never hurt anyone.
Step 3: Engage in a little benign chit-chat if the person seems like she/he wants to. Act interested (even if you're not). And if you see them again, ask them about whatever they just told you about. If chit-chat is not possible, find something of theirs to complement (Woman-to-woman situations only --> you don't want to get reported to HR for sexual harassment.). "What a lovely pair of earrings!" for instance, is often sufficient to do the trick.
Step 4: If they are an asshole to you anyway (this happens not infrequently) you need to be unflappingly positive and cheerful. Smile genuinely anyway. Set a deadline for them with their help. Something like, "It sounds like you have a lot on your plate here today. Should I come back later?" Or, "Do you mind if I bug you again at 2 to see how XYZ is coming along?"
Step 5: When they do said "favor" for you, thank them PROFUSELY. (Ok, don't get too crazy, but you know what I mean.)
And remember, even if you do all of these things, someone might just take you the wrong way anyway and become irate regardless of what you do. Usually in that case the bast thing to do is to sit there and take it. Apologize. Say, "I seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot today. I don't know what's wrong with me! Let's start over." Or, "That sounds really overwhelming. Any reasonable person would feel the way you do."
Sometimes you can convert them. Sometimes you can't.
And sometimes they'll get you in trouble no matter what you say. I still haven't figured out how to handle these situations. Whenever something like that happens, I feel like I'm 10 years old sitting in the principal's office getting reamed out for something I did or did not do, and I'm completely paralyzed. I know that nobody will believe me or listen to me no matter what I say, so I tend to clam up.
Alas, even being nice can backfire on occasion. I've had several female attendings tell me in the past year that I should assert myself more. Just TELL people to do things. That if I don't, people won't do what I say. That AS A WOMAN, it's important to do this, otherwise people won't take you seriously.
Personally, I think this is a load of crap. But nonetheless when I've received this feedback I've said, "Thank you so much for taking the time to give me this useful advice!"
And then I've gone vomit in the bathroom next door.
Because you DEFINITELY catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. But you also catch more flies with manure than you do with honey.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Sword Fight!!
One of the things I will NOT miss about surgery is the extent to which the male surgeons engaged in pissing contests with one another. Sometimes it was good natured ribbing, but other times it could be downright hostile. And I think that surgery may also be one of the final forums in which it is ok for one man to call another man a "pussy" in the workplace.
Ok, sometimes they used "Wimp." "Sissy." "What kind of man are you?" "There is no crying in surgery." "Man up." As well as various other.... um... epithets? (for lack of a better word) Though I did actually hear the word "pussy" used once. On my Urology rotation, ironically enough.
As a woman, I was never the target of the hazing. On one hand, it meant I could never be part of The Club -- the fraternity of male surgeons who got to compete with one another over who got to be the alpha dog. On the other hand, why would I ever even want TO BE part of that club? The club of incessant dick-swinging, pissing-contests, and sword fights over who is the Most Manly. It was all so tiresome!
Maybe it was harder for the women who actually wanted to be surgeons (the woman trauma surgeons were routinely made fun of NOT in their presence for being "slow" and thus not as skilled), but honestly, it made me glad I was a woman to be able to avoid these stupid contests. And most of the women surgeons I met seemed to do just fine even though they had nothing to do with The Club, provided their skills as surgeons were up to snuff. And most of them were pretty hard core, amazing people.
Of course, as women there is a lot of BS that we have to put up with that the men don't. But at least to be a successful woman, you don't have to participate in the comparisons of penile length. Those contests are truly a bore, aren't they?
Ok, sometimes they used "Wimp." "Sissy." "What kind of man are you?" "There is no crying in surgery." "Man up." As well as various other.... um... epithets? (for lack of a better word) Though I did actually hear the word "pussy" used once. On my Urology rotation, ironically enough.
As a woman, I was never the target of the hazing. On one hand, it meant I could never be part of The Club -- the fraternity of male surgeons who got to compete with one another over who got to be the alpha dog. On the other hand, why would I ever even want TO BE part of that club? The club of incessant dick-swinging, pissing-contests, and sword fights over who is the Most Manly. It was all so tiresome!
Maybe it was harder for the women who actually wanted to be surgeons (the woman trauma surgeons were routinely made fun of NOT in their presence for being "slow" and thus not as skilled), but honestly, it made me glad I was a woman to be able to avoid these stupid contests. And most of the women surgeons I met seemed to do just fine even though they had nothing to do with The Club, provided their skills as surgeons were up to snuff. And most of them were pretty hard core, amazing people.
Of course, as women there is a lot of BS that we have to put up with that the men don't. But at least to be a successful woman, you don't have to participate in the comparisons of penile length. Those contests are truly a bore, aren't they?
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Training
Yesterday I was at lunch with a friend of mine. There had been no empty little tables, so we decided to sit at the end of an empty long table. We were there chatting for 30 minutes, when this 45ish looking woman in scrubs came to sit down a few seats down from us.
She gave us the stink eye.
"Are you saving these seats with your coats?" She asked. Her tone of voice was pretty hostile, actually.
"No," my friend said, "Let me move mine."
"We're expecting a BIG GROUP of people...." she said. I'm not sure if she was trying to insinuate that groups of two shouldn't be allowed to sit at the long table, or whether she thought we should move. Now. Because she said so.
A few moments later, she comes over to us again. Really gets in his face. "Are these your coats?" She hold up some more coats that are not ours. Waves them threateningly at us. How dare we not obey her the first time, she seemed to be saying.
"No." Said in synchrony.
"Let's just move," we decided jointly.
It's the kind of interaction that takes place not infrequently on the floors between people who are there all the time (the nurses), and the people who are there for a month at a time (the residents and medical students). It's classic bullying. It's, "That's my seat you can't sit there," bullying that little kids in elementary school do all the time. Most of them grow out of it.
My friend, who is a resident, was clearly pissed off. I don't blame him. She was really rude. He almost ripped her a new one. He almost said, "You sound really angry...."
But he didn't.
I had to laugh. My first reaction was the exact opposite. I would have said, "Oh my GOODNESS, is my coat in that chair? Here let me move it for you. I am SO SORRY for taking up too many seats. Thank you for letting me know it was bothering you. Here, why don't we move so you and your friends can have the whole table, and you don't have to worry about us."
What amazed me was the fluidity with which that exact phrase just dripped off my tongue. Easily and without effort. I didn't even sound sarcastic. I would NEVER have been able to do this 5 years ago.
See the trick is, diffuse the situation and make the offending person think that she's in control. That she just won. If you're lucky she may even become an ally. Sometimes it doesn't work, but it's definitely more effective than telling her off in terms of making your life hell vs. not hell later on.
I guess it's easier to say these words with sincerity when you have Machievellian intentions behind them....
In any case, I feel like I have finally been acculturated.
"You'll do AWESOME as a resident," my friend said. Well, it would be nice if he were right. After a while, one's tongue starts to hurt a little from biting down on it so hard and so often. Sometimes you become afraid that you might choke on it.
She gave us the stink eye.
"Are you saving these seats with your coats?" She asked. Her tone of voice was pretty hostile, actually.
"No," my friend said, "Let me move mine."
"We're expecting a BIG GROUP of people...." she said. I'm not sure if she was trying to insinuate that groups of two shouldn't be allowed to sit at the long table, or whether she thought we should move. Now. Because she said so.
A few moments later, she comes over to us again. Really gets in his face. "Are these your coats?" She hold up some more coats that are not ours. Waves them threateningly at us. How dare we not obey her the first time, she seemed to be saying.
"No." Said in synchrony.
"Let's just move," we decided jointly.
It's the kind of interaction that takes place not infrequently on the floors between people who are there all the time (the nurses), and the people who are there for a month at a time (the residents and medical students). It's classic bullying. It's, "That's my seat you can't sit there," bullying that little kids in elementary school do all the time. Most of them grow out of it.
My friend, who is a resident, was clearly pissed off. I don't blame him. She was really rude. He almost ripped her a new one. He almost said, "You sound really angry...."
But he didn't.
I had to laugh. My first reaction was the exact opposite. I would have said, "Oh my GOODNESS, is my coat in that chair? Here let me move it for you. I am SO SORRY for taking up too many seats. Thank you for letting me know it was bothering you. Here, why don't we move so you and your friends can have the whole table, and you don't have to worry about us."
What amazed me was the fluidity with which that exact phrase just dripped off my tongue. Easily and without effort. I didn't even sound sarcastic. I would NEVER have been able to do this 5 years ago.
See the trick is, diffuse the situation and make the offending person think that she's in control. That she just won. If you're lucky she may even become an ally. Sometimes it doesn't work, but it's definitely more effective than telling her off in terms of making your life hell vs. not hell later on.
I guess it's easier to say these words with sincerity when you have Machievellian intentions behind them....
In any case, I feel like I have finally been acculturated.
"You'll do AWESOME as a resident," my friend said. Well, it would be nice if he were right. After a while, one's tongue starts to hurt a little from biting down on it so hard and so often. Sometimes you become afraid that you might choke on it.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Well.
That meeting went horribly.
He grilled me about why I was doing epidemiology.
Well, I'm doing this because I want to learn the methods, how to come up with good topics and move them forward, and because I want to do clinical research. I didn't know exactly what field I'd end up in when I started this program, and I thought it would provide me the tools to do clinical research, whichever path I chose.
Why not molecular biology?
(To self -- I kind of wanted to try it, but by the time I started working for my old mentors back in Chicago I was already 26, and it was a really great group. I didn't want to re-start in a new lab -- if I could even find one who would HIRE ME AND PAY ME -- and take 3 MORE years just to find out that I really prefer clinical research after all.)
To Him -- I thought about it, but bench science never really appealed to me. I just never got into it.
Why not sociology?
I guess I could have.... but there is the whole ideology associated with it that I'm not really interested in. (And one of my letter writers died of brain cancer.....)
Why not psychology?
I applied to several psychology programs and did not get in.
Why not genetics?
You know they have an Epi-genetics program over at the CCEB, right? That looks at gene environment interactions. (The only problem is they do cancer research. Which is only really a problem if you want to do Psychiatry or Neuro research.)
Then he grilled me on whether I'd actually be able to DO the research I was talking about.
Are you good at math?
What do you mean?
Are you good at math?
Well, I guess I am. There are people who are better at it than I am obviously. I mean, I don't really know. I've always done well in my math classes. I took Physics with calculus 10 years after forgetting everything I knew about calculus and it went just fine.... I like statistics, sitting in front of the computer doing SAS for hours at a time. These things are not problems for me.... Is that what you mean?
Well, you know. You can be a smart person and be able to do a lot of things. But that doesn't mean you'd be happiest doing that thing as opposed to something else.
Oooooooookkkaaaaayyyyyy.
What I really wanted to ask him was: Ok genius, what SHOULD I do with my life then. If you so obviously think that I'm not someone who is cut out to do "math" (based on what I cannot figure out) and you think epidemiology is the wrong fit for me. Do you think (said in sneering tone of voice, obviously) BUISINESS school might be more appropriate?
Actually, to that end, if someone suggests to me again that I should really take classes at Wharton, I might just flip out. Really.
It was the first time since I've been here that anyone has made me feel like I don't belong. In the wrong place. That I'm too stupid. Or something.
The whole conversation kind of made me happy that I'd wiped my nose before I shook his hand.
He grilled me about why I was doing epidemiology.
Well, I'm doing this because I want to learn the methods, how to come up with good topics and move them forward, and because I want to do clinical research. I didn't know exactly what field I'd end up in when I started this program, and I thought it would provide me the tools to do clinical research, whichever path I chose.
Why not molecular biology?
(To self -- I kind of wanted to try it, but by the time I started working for my old mentors back in Chicago I was already 26, and it was a really great group. I didn't want to re-start in a new lab -- if I could even find one who would HIRE ME AND PAY ME -- and take 3 MORE years just to find out that I really prefer clinical research after all.)
To Him -- I thought about it, but bench science never really appealed to me. I just never got into it.
Why not sociology?
I guess I could have.... but there is the whole ideology associated with it that I'm not really interested in. (And one of my letter writers died of brain cancer.....)
Why not psychology?
I applied to several psychology programs and did not get in.
Why not genetics?
You know they have an Epi-genetics program over at the CCEB, right? That looks at gene environment interactions. (The only problem is they do cancer research. Which is only really a problem if you want to do Psychiatry or Neuro research.)
Then he grilled me on whether I'd actually be able to DO the research I was talking about.
Are you good at math?
What do you mean?
Are you good at math?
Well, I guess I am. There are people who are better at it than I am obviously. I mean, I don't really know. I've always done well in my math classes. I took Physics with calculus 10 years after forgetting everything I knew about calculus and it went just fine.... I like statistics, sitting in front of the computer doing SAS for hours at a time. These things are not problems for me.... Is that what you mean?
Well, you know. You can be a smart person and be able to do a lot of things. But that doesn't mean you'd be happiest doing that thing as opposed to something else.
Oooooooookkkaaaaayyyyyy.
What I really wanted to ask him was: Ok genius, what SHOULD I do with my life then. If you so obviously think that I'm not someone who is cut out to do "math" (based on what I cannot figure out) and you think epidemiology is the wrong fit for me. Do you think (said in sneering tone of voice, obviously) BUISINESS school might be more appropriate?
Actually, to that end, if someone suggests to me again that I should really take classes at Wharton, I might just flip out. Really.
It was the first time since I've been here that anyone has made me feel like I don't belong. In the wrong place. That I'm too stupid. Or something.
The whole conversation kind of made me happy that I'd wiped my nose before I shook his hand.
On studying
With one week to go, (as I wait for USMLE World to open. Stupid computer.) sometimes I'll nail a section of questions with a 91% (Woohoo Immunology!!!), and then a few hours later I'll bomb out on another with 58% (F*** YOU pathology!!!).
When I go through questions, I'll *really think* about one, get it right, think how smart I am. And then at the bottom of the page it says 71% of readers got it right. :-P
Fortunately, sometimes I get them right when only 31% of other people did.
There was one yesterday that only 9% of test takers got right, and I was like, Where do they get off putting crap like that in this question bank. WHO even KNOWS this kind of minutia?
And then I get one wrong, and it seems that 78% of other test takers got it right. And I feel like a moron.
I thought by this point, I was supposed to have most of First Aid DOWN COLD. Like, my 2x review in the last 10 days would consist on me reading through it and being like, Uh huh. Yep, know that already too. Next!
Alas no. Every day I read through and I'm like, what IS this disease/ drug/ list of chromosomes that I have to memorize. Blah. And I wonder if I'm actually going to have TIME to read through a second time.
But still, I nailed the crap out of the practice exam on Sunday (by my standards anyway),* and I'm trying to take comfort in the fact that despite my lousy performance on some practice question sets, I might be ok after all. Ha!
Those practice test evals are accurate, right? Right? (Hello? I can't hear you..... *echo echo echo*)
Did I mention that I *actually* studied for 12 hours yesterday? No really, I couldn't believe it either. Not going to happen today though since I have 2 meetings.
I see USMLE World* has finally opened on my computer. Better get to studying.
:-P
*Saying this isn't going to put a hex on step 1 for me, is it?
*I actually like this interface better than the Kaplan one. It doesn't let you cheat and change your answer if you get it wrong in tutor mode!
When I go through questions, I'll *really think* about one, get it right, think how smart I am. And then at the bottom of the page it says 71% of readers got it right. :-P
Fortunately, sometimes I get them right when only 31% of other people did.
There was one yesterday that only 9% of test takers got right, and I was like, Where do they get off putting crap like that in this question bank. WHO even KNOWS this kind of minutia?
And then I get one wrong, and it seems that 78% of other test takers got it right. And I feel like a moron.
I thought by this point, I was supposed to have most of First Aid DOWN COLD. Like, my 2x review in the last 10 days would consist on me reading through it and being like, Uh huh. Yep, know that already too. Next!
Alas no. Every day I read through and I'm like, what IS this disease/ drug/ list of chromosomes that I have to memorize. Blah. And I wonder if I'm actually going to have TIME to read through a second time.
But still, I nailed the crap out of the practice exam on Sunday (by my standards anyway),* and I'm trying to take comfort in the fact that despite my lousy performance on some practice question sets, I might be ok after all. Ha!
Those practice test evals are accurate, right? Right? (Hello? I can't hear you..... *echo echo echo*)
Did I mention that I *actually* studied for 12 hours yesterday? No really, I couldn't believe it either. Not going to happen today though since I have 2 meetings.
I see USMLE World* has finally opened on my computer. Better get to studying.
:-P
*Saying this isn't going to put a hex on step 1 for me, is it?
*I actually like this interface better than the Kaplan one. It doesn't let you cheat and change your answer if you get it wrong in tutor mode!
Monday, February 09, 2009
Boards
Me: Guess what this part of the brain is called.
Luca: Um, I don't know?
Me: Well, what do they look like?
Luca: Testicles?
Me: Luca, honey. All the neuroanatomists of the early 20th century were MEN.
Luca: Oh. Breasts?
Me: Nice work, sweetie. They're called Mammillary bodies.
I also giggle whenever I read about the TATA box or Buck's fascia.
Luca: Um, I don't know?
Me: Well, what do they look like?
Luca: Testicles?
Me: Luca, honey. All the neuroanatomists of the early 20th century were MEN.
Luca: Oh. Breasts?
Me: Nice work, sweetie. They're called Mammillary bodies.
I also giggle whenever I read about the TATA box or Buck's fascia.
1 week to go
Until step 1. So I'm being good today. Today I made my husband wake me up as he headed off for work at 6:15.
I'm pretty sure I'd still be in bed now if he hadn't woken me up.
:-P
But as it is, we're going on hour #3 of studying. And it's not even 9 yet!
We'll see whether I can keep this up for a whole week.
I kind of wish I hadn't moved the date from the 11th to the 16th. This *actual* (unlike what I was doing for the past 5 weeks...) studying crap sucks.
I'm pretty sure I'd still be in bed now if he hadn't woken me up.
:-P
But as it is, we're going on hour #3 of studying. And it's not even 9 yet!
We'll see whether I can keep this up for a whole week.
I kind of wish I hadn't moved the date from the 11th to the 16th. This *actual* (unlike what I was doing for the past 5 weeks...) studying crap sucks.
Saturday, February 07, 2009
Research types
I've been watching the changes in my readership as I've stopped talking as much about becoming a doctor, and started talking more about becoming a researcher. Notably, less pre-meds and more current researchers. Verrrrryyyy interesting.....
I had wondered if my readership would decline when I stopped telling as many touchy feely stories about my interactions with patients as well as stories about my personal growth.... but it appears there may also be people out there who are interested in science as well. Yay!
Welcome, science people.
Anyhow, last night I took my husband to Buddakan for his birthday. His *35th* birthday. As we were talking about various things.... house buying.... the economy.... his job.... me.... myself.... I.... (WHATEVER, he's a basic scientist, he likes it when I do the talking -- hi Luca!!), I was reflecting (again) on how lucky I am to have this opportunity to do exactly the kind of research I want.
Really. I can do pretty much anything.
I've always wanted to do Psych research (for instance), or research that looks at gene-environment interactions. I remember trying to figure out how to get into something like that before I started med school. Hell, I even applied to a psych PhD dept as part of an MD-PhD program. It wasn't even that good a program. Still, they were all like, "Well, she OBVIOUSLY couldn't work with us because she hasn't specifically done mouse/imaging/psychology research before. And ick! Her GRE is only 1370 or something*. God, is she stupid?"
Suffice to say, their opinion was that sociology and the policy research I had been doing was NOT close enough to what they did for them to even consider me. Oh. And also, that I was stupid.
It seems, the only places that were interested in me were public policy schools, sociology schools (maybe -- I'm not a Marxist though, so it might have been a tough sell), and public health programs. Oh. And the Epidemiology program I got into.
Then I got into the MD-PhD program at Penn in Epi.
Now, the nice thing about this program is that they accept students on the basis of their promise in terms of doing research. Not necessarily a specific kind of research. Still, when I got accepted, even though I expressed my interests in Psych research and gene-environment interaction research, everybody kept trying to funnel me into public policy.
Everybody STILL thinks I'm going to do public policy. And I might. But now when I say that I'm interested in something different, 3 different advisors send emails to the people I need to talk to, and I get meetings with them. Meetings with the deities of brain imaging or drug addiction for instance. They actually talk to me. And their assumption going into the meeting is that I have a brain. These people actually want me to work in their groups. JUST BY VIRTUE OF THE FACT THAT I AM A STUDENT IN PENN'S MD-PHD PROGRAM.
(How's that for snotty?)
I feel like this is really my chance to break out of the mold and do the kind of research that has been up until now, a fantasy for me. And if the opportunity presents itself.... well, I guess I'd be either a coward or an idiot not to take it.
Still it's hard thinking about leaving policy behind. I know what I'm doing, and I seem to be halfway decent at coming up with ideas. The thing is, I know I can always do that if I want to. It's much easier to go that way than to back track into something more science-y. And still I wonder -- do I really have the aptitude to do anything other than policy? I've never done anything else. What if all those people in the past who thought I was too stupid to do their research were right?
So I'm at kind of a crossroads I guess.
I'm also the luckiest person alive.
*Luca wants me to tell you all that *technically* he won't be 35 until TOMORROW.
*I actually don't remember my score, I just remember the reaction to it. It was in this range though. I think.
I had wondered if my readership would decline when I stopped telling as many touchy feely stories about my interactions with patients as well as stories about my personal growth.... but it appears there may also be people out there who are interested in science as well. Yay!
Welcome, science people.
Anyhow, last night I took my husband to Buddakan for his birthday. His *35th* birthday. As we were talking about various things.... house buying.... the economy.... his job.... me.... myself.... I.... (WHATEVER, he's a basic scientist, he likes it when I do the talking -- hi Luca!!), I was reflecting (again) on how lucky I am to have this opportunity to do exactly the kind of research I want.
Really. I can do pretty much anything.
I've always wanted to do Psych research (for instance), or research that looks at gene-environment interactions. I remember trying to figure out how to get into something like that before I started med school. Hell, I even applied to a psych PhD dept as part of an MD-PhD program. It wasn't even that good a program. Still, they were all like, "Well, she OBVIOUSLY couldn't work with us because she hasn't specifically done mouse/imaging/psychology research before. And ick! Her GRE is only 1370 or something*. God, is she stupid?"
Suffice to say, their opinion was that sociology and the policy research I had been doing was NOT close enough to what they did for them to even consider me. Oh. And also, that I was stupid.
It seems, the only places that were interested in me were public policy schools, sociology schools (maybe -- I'm not a Marxist though, so it might have been a tough sell), and public health programs. Oh. And the Epidemiology program I got into.
Then I got into the MD-PhD program at Penn in Epi.
Now, the nice thing about this program is that they accept students on the basis of their promise in terms of doing research. Not necessarily a specific kind of research. Still, when I got accepted, even though I expressed my interests in Psych research and gene-environment interaction research, everybody kept trying to funnel me into public policy.
Everybody STILL thinks I'm going to do public policy. And I might. But now when I say that I'm interested in something different, 3 different advisors send emails to the people I need to talk to, and I get meetings with them. Meetings with the deities of brain imaging or drug addiction for instance. They actually talk to me. And their assumption going into the meeting is that I have a brain. These people actually want me to work in their groups. JUST BY VIRTUE OF THE FACT THAT I AM A STUDENT IN PENN'S MD-PHD PROGRAM.
(How's that for snotty?)
I feel like this is really my chance to break out of the mold and do the kind of research that has been up until now, a fantasy for me. And if the opportunity presents itself.... well, I guess I'd be either a coward or an idiot not to take it.
Still it's hard thinking about leaving policy behind. I know what I'm doing, and I seem to be halfway decent at coming up with ideas. The thing is, I know I can always do that if I want to. It's much easier to go that way than to back track into something more science-y. And still I wonder -- do I really have the aptitude to do anything other than policy? I've never done anything else. What if all those people in the past who thought I was too stupid to do their research were right?
So I'm at kind of a crossroads I guess.
I'm also the luckiest person alive.
*Luca wants me to tell you all that *technically* he won't be 35 until TOMORROW.
*I actually don't remember my score, I just remember the reaction to it. It was in this range though. I think.
Friday, February 06, 2009
Yesterday at my meeting
Potential mentor: Well, I just have to ask you one thing. This work involves a lot of statistics and sitting in front of the computer. And I have to ask -- Are you a dork?
Me: Oh GOD yes. I mean, I like talking to people too.... but I could sit in front of the computer for HOURS doing statistics, and not even notice if I'm hungry. So yeah, I'm a total dork.
Potential mentor: Good. This might work out very well.
Me: Oh GOD yes. I mean, I like talking to people too.... but I could sit in front of the computer for HOURS doing statistics, and not even notice if I'm hungry. So yeah, I'm a total dork.
Potential mentor: Good. This might work out very well.
Thursday, February 05, 2009
WTF?
Said to OMDG by basic science student: OldMDGirl, do you think I could do clinical research if I took a class on statistics?
In OMDG's head (sarcastically): I don't know, do you think I could "do" cell biology if I took a class on how to do Western Blots?
OMDG (outloud): I think that depends on your definition of "do clinical research." Maybe you should talk to someone in my department. I'm sure they'd be happy to have you.
Gah! (grumbles to self) F-ing basic science people.
In OMDG's head (sarcastically): I don't know, do you think I could "do" cell biology if I took a class on how to do Western Blots?
OMDG (outloud): I think that depends on your definition of "do clinical research." Maybe you should talk to someone in my department. I'm sure they'd be happy to have you.
Gah! (grumbles to self) F-ing basic science people.
Rad Onc
Last night I went to a talk about how to prepare for your career after you graduate from the MD-PhD program. It was interesting and somewhat anxiety provoking.
Fortunately, the guy who gave the talk was the one I met with last week, and I'd already processed many of the things he went over last night. Well, processed the anxiety that went along with it anyway.
At one point he showed us a set of odds ratios for the likelihood that you'd end up having a research career vs. private practice depending on the specialty you went into. My guess is that these odds are based not only on the relative compensation that these fields provide, but also on the receptiveness of various department heads to research. Which is probably linked to your profitability, so in the end it probably comes back to money somewhat.
The ones where private practice was a virtual guarantee (at least 2x the risk of doing private practice): Family Medicine (6x!), EM(3x!), Derm, Ophtho, Radiology. I think Anesthesia, and Surgery were up there too.*
Interestingly, PM&R had 1:1 odds.
By contrast Neurology, Peds, Psychiatry, Internal Medicine, Pathology, and (drum roll) Radiation Oncology had better than 1:1 odds of you ending up doing research. In some cases the odds were about 2:1.
Of course, this is probably in part because 50% of the Rad Onc residents are MD-PhDs..... so maybe those odds aren't so fantastic after all. I mean, wouldn't you expect that even more would do research?
(Full disclosure: I know only two people who went into rad onc and both were combined degree. One was in my husband's lab studying herpes viruses (can be used to shoot into brain tumors -- cool huh?), and the other worked for Satan himself during his PhD and subsequently burned out of research. Maybe this is telling.....)
So I was joking with a friend about doing rad onc after MD-PhD about how the most important Epi study to come out for Rad Onc in the last 10 years was the one that showed that performing radiation on patients 5 days a week (M-F) was just as effective at curing their cancer as 7 day/week radiation.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!
(If you don't get it, then you need to learn more about the cushiness of the rad onc lifestyle. Let's just say that nobody needs to get his prostate irradiated at 2AM on a Saturday. They really need to be called the RROAD specialties.)
Anyway, still not sold on this by any means but it's something to think about. Plus, it seems to have a lot of the things I liked about Surgery (procedures + clinic + finality) along with a lot of the things I liked about Neurology (lots of dorky people + science + cool technology).
We'll just have to see, won't we?
*Sorry, this is just what I remember and may not be 100% accurate.
*There are a lot of possibilities
*ROAD = Radiology, Ophtho, Anesthesia, Derm = $$ + "easy" hours
Fortunately, the guy who gave the talk was the one I met with last week, and I'd already processed many of the things he went over last night. Well, processed the anxiety that went along with it anyway.
At one point he showed us a set of odds ratios for the likelihood that you'd end up having a research career vs. private practice depending on the specialty you went into. My guess is that these odds are based not only on the relative compensation that these fields provide, but also on the receptiveness of various department heads to research. Which is probably linked to your profitability, so in the end it probably comes back to money somewhat.
The ones where private practice was a virtual guarantee (at least 2x the risk of doing private practice): Family Medicine (6x!), EM(3x!), Derm, Ophtho, Radiology. I think Anesthesia, and Surgery were up there too.*
Interestingly, PM&R had 1:1 odds.
By contrast Neurology, Peds, Psychiatry, Internal Medicine, Pathology, and (drum roll) Radiation Oncology had better than 1:1 odds of you ending up doing research. In some cases the odds were about 2:1.
Of course, this is probably in part because 50% of the Rad Onc residents are MD-PhDs..... so maybe those odds aren't so fantastic after all. I mean, wouldn't you expect that even more would do research?
(Full disclosure: I know only two people who went into rad onc and both were combined degree. One was in my husband's lab studying herpes viruses (can be used to shoot into brain tumors -- cool huh?), and the other worked for Satan himself during his PhD and subsequently burned out of research. Maybe this is telling.....)
So I was joking with a friend about doing rad onc after MD-PhD about how the most important Epi study to come out for Rad Onc in the last 10 years was the one that showed that performing radiation on patients 5 days a week (M-F) was just as effective at curing their cancer as 7 day/week radiation.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!
(If you don't get it, then you need to learn more about the cushiness of the rad onc lifestyle. Let's just say that nobody needs to get his prostate irradiated at 2AM on a Saturday. They really need to be called the RROAD specialties.)
Anyway, still not sold on this by any means but it's something to think about. Plus, it seems to have a lot of the things I liked about Surgery (procedures + clinic + finality) along with a lot of the things I liked about Neurology (lots of dorky people + science + cool technology).
We'll just have to see, won't we?
*Sorry, this is just what I remember and may not be 100% accurate.
*There are a lot of possibilities
*ROAD = Radiology, Ophtho, Anesthesia, Derm = $$ + "easy" hours
Wednesday, February 04, 2009
Just one day
Just for one day, I'd like the chance to focus. To think about nothing except what I am doing right now. To study, run, and relax. Focus. Just one day that I don't have to think about my career.
As in -- what am you going to do for my PhD? how are you going to parlay my PhD into a successful academic career? what are the unfilled niches in the literature (uh.....)? we're concerned that you don't have an area of focus yet. you're still too undifferentiated. but, how are you DIFFERENT from everyone else? how am I going to keep my clinical skills sharp during my PhD? (I'm not.) AREN'T YOU WORRIED ABOUT THAT????? (No. F*** off.) how am I going to package myself to make myself more marketable?
And then going to meetings with potential mentors. Who want to know the answers to these questions. And so, I explain myself to them.
Along with all the questions: wait, they're letting you do all three years of med school before your PhD? that isn't what everyone else does? why did they let you do it that way? what ARE your research interests? wait, you still have more than one? how is oncology related to neuroscience? what is your background? wait, you're not interested in continuing to do community health research? why not? tell me why you think what I do is interesting? don't you know xyz person in the department? do you know anything about what we do? (They don't actually say that, it's just how I feel sometimes.)
Over.
And over.
And over.
And over.
And over again.
I feel like looking for a mentor is kind of like dating. I was always good at dating. It did get really old really fast though. And I can tell you I am really getting sick of these meetings too.
And as my boards approach, you'd think I'd have scheduled myself fewer meetings. But no. This week I have 5.
Next week: ZERO. But that's only because I've stopped responding to emails....
I know I have made progress. For one, I've more or less eliminated Critical Care from my specialty list. Why? They work hospitalist hours (2 weeks on 2 weeks off), with administrative extras thrown in during the "off" weeks. AND there is a movement towards making adult critical care attendings stay in the hospital on call overnight like they do in peds critical care. Yes, it's probably better for the patients. But I can tell you now that I do not want to be taking in house call when I'm 50. Not to mention, when the hell would I do my research?
No freaking way.
And I'm leaning away from EM. I didn't come to medical school to continue doing the kind of QI research I did when I worked at the Industrial Supply Company From Hell after all. With the lovely bonus that I may come up with these proposals, but nobody will do what I suggest since the EM is built to limit hospital inflow and provide low quality care in order to save hospitals money. Oh wait, it's EXACTLY like working for my old company. See why I don't want to do it?
So, that leaves oncology and neuroscience.
Given that none of the onco people seem interested in meeting with me (they don't respond to emails from me -- respond ONLY when nagged repeatedly by my other advisors -- and then don't follow up (I don't care that you have a grant due in one month, it's called common courtesy, people.), they are looking less favorable than the neuroscience people.
It's kind of weird, the idea of choosing a PhD research topic based upon who responds to your emails..... but there it is.
Not unlike choosing a spouse in many ways. (Hi Luca!)
Anyway, back to the grind. Just three more days of Physiology review until I go back and do questions galore and start cramming like hell! Just 10 days until the big test!
Gah. I'll be glad when it's over. Oh wait, it's never going to be "over."
As in -- what am you going to do for my PhD? how are you going to parlay my PhD into a successful academic career? what are the unfilled niches in the literature (uh.....)? we're concerned that you don't have an area of focus yet. you're still too undifferentiated. but, how are you DIFFERENT from everyone else? how am I going to keep my clinical skills sharp during my PhD? (I'm not.) AREN'T YOU WORRIED ABOUT THAT????? (No. F*** off.) how am I going to package myself to make myself more marketable?
And then going to meetings with potential mentors. Who want to know the answers to these questions. And so, I explain myself to them.
Along with all the questions: wait, they're letting you do all three years of med school before your PhD? that isn't what everyone else does? why did they let you do it that way? what ARE your research interests? wait, you still have more than one? how is oncology related to neuroscience? what is your background? wait, you're not interested in continuing to do community health research? why not? tell me why you think what I do is interesting? don't you know xyz person in the department? do you know anything about what we do? (They don't actually say that, it's just how I feel sometimes.)
Over.
And over.
And over.
And over.
And over again.
I feel like looking for a mentor is kind of like dating. I was always good at dating. It did get really old really fast though. And I can tell you I am really getting sick of these meetings too.
And as my boards approach, you'd think I'd have scheduled myself fewer meetings. But no. This week I have 5.
Next week: ZERO. But that's only because I've stopped responding to emails....
I know I have made progress. For one, I've more or less eliminated Critical Care from my specialty list. Why? They work hospitalist hours (2 weeks on 2 weeks off), with administrative extras thrown in during the "off" weeks. AND there is a movement towards making adult critical care attendings stay in the hospital on call overnight like they do in peds critical care. Yes, it's probably better for the patients. But I can tell you now that I do not want to be taking in house call when I'm 50. Not to mention, when the hell would I do my research?
No freaking way.
And I'm leaning away from EM. I didn't come to medical school to continue doing the kind of QI research I did when I worked at the Industrial Supply Company From Hell after all. With the lovely bonus that I may come up with these proposals, but nobody will do what I suggest since the EM is built to limit hospital inflow and provide low quality care in order to save hospitals money. Oh wait, it's EXACTLY like working for my old company. See why I don't want to do it?
So, that leaves oncology and neuroscience.
Given that none of the onco people seem interested in meeting with me (they don't respond to emails from me -- respond ONLY when nagged repeatedly by my other advisors -- and then don't follow up (I don't care that you have a grant due in one month, it's called common courtesy, people.), they are looking less favorable than the neuroscience people.
It's kind of weird, the idea of choosing a PhD research topic based upon who responds to your emails..... but there it is.
Not unlike choosing a spouse in many ways. (Hi Luca!)
Anyway, back to the grind. Just three more days of Physiology review until I go back and do questions galore and start cramming like hell! Just 10 days until the big test!
Gah. I'll be glad when it's over. Oh wait, it's never going to be "over."
Tuesday, February 03, 2009
Trip
So, I have two weeks off at the end of February, and was thinking of taking a mini-vacation. *Technically* I am supposed to be working on a paper then, but still, I wanted to reward myself for all this step 1 studying I've been doing. Plus my husband would really like to go somewhere.
Here are the parameters:
-The break can be 5-6 days max (I think).
-Someplace warm might be nice, but it's not mandatory.
-We've considered doing a city in Europe off season.... but then my husband starts wanting to see his family in Italy too. Something about being on the same continent as they are. This is NOT an option. I am not doing "family" this vacation dammit!
-No cruises.
-Nowhere with college kids.
Any suggestions on where to go?
Here are the parameters:
-The break can be 5-6 days max (I think).
-Someplace warm might be nice, but it's not mandatory.
-We've considered doing a city in Europe off season.... but then my husband starts wanting to see his family in Italy too. Something about being on the same continent as they are. This is NOT an option. I am not doing "family" this vacation dammit!
-No cruises.
-Nowhere with college kids.
Any suggestions on where to go?
Grunge
For those of you too young to remember (I know there are at least a few 19 year old pre-meds who read this blog), back in 1991-1994 grunge was the epitome of fashion. Hiking boots worn every day with worn out jeans, a vintage t-shirt, and a plaid flannel shirt. Hair was long, wavy, and unstyled. Little make-up.
I suspect this had to do with the economy. Wasn't Gulf War Part I in the early 90s?
Kurt Cobain? Remember him? Pearl Jam is still around.... SORT OF. Kate Moss was 17 and didn't look strung out yet. There wasn't yet a Starbucks on EVERY SINGLE CORNER of America. Seattle became a cool place to live. Remember the movie "Singles?" Yeah, *that* was grunge.
Gradually naughty Catholic school girl kilts with combat boots that laced up to the knee, and argyle thigh high stockings worn with that corduroy jumper were added to the arsenal. Tops got tighter, pants got cleaner. Finally (!) the low rise pant came into style. If only that had been around when I was in high school and my wardrobe would have been complete.
And now? Fake vintage tees that say "JUICY" on them have supplanted the ones out purchased at the salvation army. Jeans went to $150/pair (not that there's anything wrong with that....), and Manolos replaced the hiking boots (no thanks to you, Sex in the City). Part of me wonders whether this transition in footwear was in part subsidized by Happy Podiatrists of America.
I think I realized the end of grunge was officially here when it became mandatory to be fashionable even where nobody could see. This was when the thong skyrocketed in popularity along with the landing strip. Goodbye granny-panty!! Hello razor. (Or wax if you prefer.)
And then I went back to class for my post-bac and met all the bare-midriffed young 'uns who had come of age during the time of Britney Spears and wondered what would happen if they spilled hydrochloric acid on their muffin tops.
And so it was with great excitement and anticipation that I read on slate dot com that sales of Uggs and Merrells were through the roof last quarter, and that wearing your grandfather's clothes is suddenly chic. "Could grunge be coming back?" I thought to myself, as I huddled in my freezing apartment wearing the plaid flannel shirt I got for Christmas when I was 14. Could I wear my hiking boots in public on a non-hike and not be ridiculed? My (w)holy jeans? My vintage Guinness t-shirts? Could I let my hair grow out undyed and wavy (Buh-bye shag helmet hair!) and actually be considered "cool?"
Maybe something positive is coming out of this recession after all.
It sounds too good to be true.
I suspect this had to do with the economy. Wasn't Gulf War Part I in the early 90s?
Kurt Cobain? Remember him? Pearl Jam is still around.... SORT OF. Kate Moss was 17 and didn't look strung out yet. There wasn't yet a Starbucks on EVERY SINGLE CORNER of America. Seattle became a cool place to live. Remember the movie "Singles?" Yeah, *that* was grunge.
Gradually naughty Catholic school girl kilts with combat boots that laced up to the knee, and argyle thigh high stockings worn with that corduroy jumper were added to the arsenal. Tops got tighter, pants got cleaner. Finally (!) the low rise pant came into style. If only that had been around when I was in high school and my wardrobe would have been complete.
And now? Fake vintage tees that say "JUICY" on them have supplanted the ones out purchased at the salvation army. Jeans went to $150/pair (not that there's anything wrong with that....), and Manolos replaced the hiking boots (no thanks to you, Sex in the City). Part of me wonders whether this transition in footwear was in part subsidized by Happy Podiatrists of America.
I think I realized the end of grunge was officially here when it became mandatory to be fashionable even where nobody could see. This was when the thong skyrocketed in popularity along with the landing strip. Goodbye granny-panty!! Hello razor. (Or wax if you prefer.)
And then I went back to class for my post-bac and met all the bare-midriffed young 'uns who had come of age during the time of Britney Spears and wondered what would happen if they spilled hydrochloric acid on their muffin tops.
And so it was with great excitement and anticipation that I read on slate dot com that sales of Uggs and Merrells were through the roof last quarter, and that wearing your grandfather's clothes is suddenly chic. "Could grunge be coming back?" I thought to myself, as I huddled in my freezing apartment wearing the plaid flannel shirt I got for Christmas when I was 14. Could I wear my hiking boots in public on a non-hike and not be ridiculed? My (w)holy jeans? My vintage Guinness t-shirts? Could I let my hair grow out undyed and wavy (Buh-bye shag helmet hair!) and actually be considered "cool?"
Maybe something positive is coming out of this recession after all.
It sounds too good to be true.
Monday, February 02, 2009
More house
One of the things that struck me and Luca yesterday when we were looking at houses was how generic the taste of the American public is. For instance, you'll see these gutted gorgeous row houses, with 840 square feet -- barely big enough to live in -- with these over the top stainless steel kitchens. The kitchens were so small you could barely even turn around in them. But they were stainless steel dammit!
Or the fancy ass bathroom with the granite counter tops and brand new ceramic tiles. Sure, you can't actually open the door all the way, because the sink is right there. But GRANITE!!
And it wasn't even charming granite. "Charming" would be... you know: appropriate for the period? This was all modern stuff crammed into this adorable old exterior.
We actually preferred the generic condo with 1200 square feet and a parking spot. Sure, there was wall to wall carpeting, generic sliding glass doors, motel 6 style appliances in the bathroom and kitchen. But at least it wasn't trying to be something that it's not.
And it had a garage... mmmmmmm... parking.
The house I liked the most was the one with some artists living in it. The paint colors were completely hideous, and it needed some work. And you could *totally* smell the pot underneath the incense that had been put out as we walked through the door. But it had all these neat nooks and crannies. It also had parking. And it was cheap.
Luca's favorite was another one that had all the original woodwork, doors, and windows. Also, not the generic modern-victorian row house with the over the top appliances.
I guess we're not really normal. Either that, or the people trying to sell the generified teeny-tiny homes have no idea that they're being priced out by the charming ones down the street.
Idiots.
Or the fancy ass bathroom with the granite counter tops and brand new ceramic tiles. Sure, you can't actually open the door all the way, because the sink is right there. But GRANITE!!
And it wasn't even charming granite. "Charming" would be... you know: appropriate for the period? This was all modern stuff crammed into this adorable old exterior.
We actually preferred the generic condo with 1200 square feet and a parking spot. Sure, there was wall to wall carpeting, generic sliding glass doors, motel 6 style appliances in the bathroom and kitchen. But at least it wasn't trying to be something that it's not.
And it had a garage... mmmmmmm... parking.
The house I liked the most was the one with some artists living in it. The paint colors were completely hideous, and it needed some work. And you could *totally* smell the pot underneath the incense that had been put out as we walked through the door. But it had all these neat nooks and crannies. It also had parking. And it was cheap.
Luca's favorite was another one that had all the original woodwork, doors, and windows. Also, not the generic modern-victorian row house with the over the top appliances.
I guess we're not really normal. Either that, or the people trying to sell the generified teeny-tiny homes have no idea that they're being priced out by the charming ones down the street.
Idiots.
Sunday, February 01, 2009
House
Luca and I went to look at houses in the Art Museum area today and were pleasantly surprised. There was actually stuff *with* parking that was a livable size in a non-ghetto part of the neighborhood.
Well, the loiterers were two blocks away anyway. Which is about as good as it gets most places in Philadelphia. Unless you're like, RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE of Rittenhouse square....
Of course we're not actually buying yet, since we won't have $$ until the summer, but it was still good to see that our financial parameters were more or less in line with what we expected to get for the money.
At one point, our real estate lady commented, "I don't know why this house hasn't sold. They just reduced the price 10%. And it's so cute!"
I said, "Maybe it's because the economy contracted 5% last quarter?"
Maybe if we wait until July it will contract another 5%?
Hm.
And then stop contracting. OF COURSE.
Well, the loiterers were two blocks away anyway. Which is about as good as it gets most places in Philadelphia. Unless you're like, RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE of Rittenhouse square....
Of course we're not actually buying yet, since we won't have $$ until the summer, but it was still good to see that our financial parameters were more or less in line with what we expected to get for the money.
At one point, our real estate lady commented, "I don't know why this house hasn't sold. They just reduced the price 10%. And it's so cute!"
I said, "Maybe it's because the economy contracted 5% last quarter?"
Maybe if we wait until July it will contract another 5%?
Hm.
And then stop contracting. OF COURSE.
Talking to yourself
I remember the the first time I ever had a full conversation with my husband. It was a cool crisp morning in May in Chicago, and I was walking to my car on the way to interview a patient in the suburbs for a study I was running. My future husband was walking towards his lab.
He was gesturing wildly with both hands looking at his feet. His lips were moving but no sounds was coming out.
"Luca?" I asked. No reply. Gesticulations continued, he got closer.
"Luca?" I asked. Louder this time. He stopped and looked up, almost falling over his feet as he did so.
"Who are you talking to?"
It was at this point my now husband tells me that he wished he could crawl into a hole, he was so embarrassed.
It turned out he was rehearsing a meeting he was going to have with his boss later that day. "In his head." We stood there and chatted for a few minutes, and then went our various ways.
He tells me now that at that point he was SURE he had no chance with me. Little did he know.
He still talks to himself. When I'm sitting in our office I can hear him while he washes dishes in the sink. He only does it out loud when we're at home, though.
Well, I didn't think it was weird. I talk to myself all the time. And it's not only conversations with my boss. It's with the attending who was a bitch to me 6 months ago. The person in my class who made the irritating comment. My parents being annoying. (I really have to learn to let these things go.)
I have to imagine that his conversations with his boss are infinitely more productive than mine.
In doctoring once, I remember one of our faculty preceptors made the comment that: Now that she'd taken psychiatry, she understood why the people on the street talked to them selves: they were schizophrenic. She had more compassion for them now.
I thought to myself: Really? You think talking to yourself is abnormal? Something only crazy people do?
Huh.
I thought it said a lot about her. Who the hell DOESN'T talk to themselves. Ok, maybe not in public, but still.
He was gesturing wildly with both hands looking at his feet. His lips were moving but no sounds was coming out.
"Luca?" I asked. No reply. Gesticulations continued, he got closer.
"Luca?" I asked. Louder this time. He stopped and looked up, almost falling over his feet as he did so.
"Who are you talking to?"
It was at this point my now husband tells me that he wished he could crawl into a hole, he was so embarrassed.
It turned out he was rehearsing a meeting he was going to have with his boss later that day. "In his head." We stood there and chatted for a few minutes, and then went our various ways.
He tells me now that at that point he was SURE he had no chance with me. Little did he know.
He still talks to himself. When I'm sitting in our office I can hear him while he washes dishes in the sink. He only does it out loud when we're at home, though.
Well, I didn't think it was weird. I talk to myself all the time. And it's not only conversations with my boss. It's with the attending who was a bitch to me 6 months ago. The person in my class who made the irritating comment. My parents being annoying. (I really have to learn to let these things go.)
I have to imagine that his conversations with his boss are infinitely more productive than mine.
In doctoring once, I remember one of our faculty preceptors made the comment that: Now that she'd taken psychiatry, she understood why the people on the street talked to them selves: they were schizophrenic. She had more compassion for them now.
I thought to myself: Really? You think talking to yourself is abnormal? Something only crazy people do?
Huh.
I thought it said a lot about her. Who the hell DOESN'T talk to themselves. Ok, maybe not in public, but still.
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