Sunday, January 31, 2010
Communication
"Can you believe that patient?" my medicine attending said to my senior resident as we were exiting her room on rounds one morning.
"I know!" replied my resident. And then mimicking the metastatic cancer patient in a high pitched nasal tone of voice, "I had a pain pump the last time I was admitted here for this."
"Total drug seeker," my attending said.
"God yes. No narcotics for her," agreed my resident.
Did you pick up on the fact that we were right outside the patient's room at this time?
The other medical student on the service and I looked at each other. What were were going to say? The patient had seemed sincere enough to us. I didn't know what exactly other than the specific information about what had been done for her pain in the past had led the attending and chief resident to believe that she was a drug seeker. But it seemed really messed up to me that they'd be talking about it the way they were in front of us the med students, and worse: in front of the patient.
Later I had a patient who *I* thought was probably narcotics seeking with this same attending. However on THIS one the attending was with the patient. I was the horrible medical student who didn't believe the patient. "You should always listen to the patient," she lectured me, "Never assume someone is drug seeking."
What struck me was how two different people can come away from a single patient encounter with completely different interpretations of the situation. And how much power one attending has to make a patient's life hell during a hospitalization.
Not to mention the unprofessional conversation outside the patient's room.
When I say that medical school made me understand why I don't like most doctors, it's examples like this that highlight why this happened.
Maybe that's why, when the Epi department was trying to get me to focus on a single disease for my PhD thesis, I kept coming back to my bad doctor stories. The appalling communication gaffes. The doctors who projected their own issues onto the patients. Who used their power to subtly punish "bad" patients by withholding services or their time.
And what was "bad" you may wonder? A "bad" patient is one doesn't fit a doctor's (or nurse's) specific idea of how a patient should behave. Who doesn't say what a patient is supposed to say. Who screams too loudly or squirms during a painful procedure. Who asks too many questions. Who requests something that the attending doesn't want to provide. Who doesn't appreciate how tired the doctor is, and how the doctor really wants to be spending time with his/her family rather than be rounding this Sunday morning. God Dammit!
Ungrateful Patients.
I saw over and over again doctors who thought they had told their patients one thing, but how anyone standing there listening could see how that communication hadn't been received the way it was intended. And how if the attending realized later that this had happened, that it was ALL THE PATIENT'S FAULT. God, if only they had listened!
I really don't like the bad doctor stories on the Well Blog. It's often clear to me that the patient just didn't get it. There are so many wacky health beliefs on that blog it sometimes truly astounds me. Angry people. At the same time my heart breaks when I read those stories sometimes. Because I know the patient got screwed by some doctor who just couldn't be bothered to listen or understand where they were coming from.
And the patient suffered the consequences.
"I know!" replied my resident. And then mimicking the metastatic cancer patient in a high pitched nasal tone of voice, "I had a pain pump the last time I was admitted here for this."
"Total drug seeker," my attending said.
"God yes. No narcotics for her," agreed my resident.
Did you pick up on the fact that we were right outside the patient's room at this time?
The other medical student on the service and I looked at each other. What were were going to say? The patient had seemed sincere enough to us. I didn't know what exactly other than the specific information about what had been done for her pain in the past had led the attending and chief resident to believe that she was a drug seeker. But it seemed really messed up to me that they'd be talking about it the way they were in front of us the med students, and worse: in front of the patient.
Later I had a patient who *I* thought was probably narcotics seeking with this same attending. However on THIS one the attending was with the patient. I was the horrible medical student who didn't believe the patient. "You should always listen to the patient," she lectured me, "Never assume someone is drug seeking."
What struck me was how two different people can come away from a single patient encounter with completely different interpretations of the situation. And how much power one attending has to make a patient's life hell during a hospitalization.
Not to mention the unprofessional conversation outside the patient's room.
When I say that medical school made me understand why I don't like most doctors, it's examples like this that highlight why this happened.
Maybe that's why, when the Epi department was trying to get me to focus on a single disease for my PhD thesis, I kept coming back to my bad doctor stories. The appalling communication gaffes. The doctors who projected their own issues onto the patients. Who used their power to subtly punish "bad" patients by withholding services or their time.
And what was "bad" you may wonder? A "bad" patient is one doesn't fit a doctor's (or nurse's) specific idea of how a patient should behave. Who doesn't say what a patient is supposed to say. Who screams too loudly or squirms during a painful procedure. Who asks too many questions. Who requests something that the attending doesn't want to provide. Who doesn't appreciate how tired the doctor is, and how the doctor really wants to be spending time with his/her family rather than be rounding this Sunday morning. God Dammit!
Ungrateful Patients.
I saw over and over again doctors who thought they had told their patients one thing, but how anyone standing there listening could see how that communication hadn't been received the way it was intended. And how if the attending realized later that this had happened, that it was ALL THE PATIENT'S FAULT. God, if only they had listened!
I really don't like the bad doctor stories on the Well Blog. It's often clear to me that the patient just didn't get it. There are so many wacky health beliefs on that blog it sometimes truly astounds me. Angry people. At the same time my heart breaks when I read those stories sometimes. Because I know the patient got screwed by some doctor who just couldn't be bothered to listen or understand where they were coming from.
And the patient suffered the consequences.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Pace
I was talking to a classmate this week who is taking a year out to do research about the difference in pace between clinical-land and research-land.
In clinical-land you have a set of tasks to complete when you arrive every morning. You pager may spontaneously combust from going off so frequently, and you may have a seemingly insurmountable number of patients to see, notes to write, calls to make, etc. but generally speaking (there are exceptions), if you put your nose to the grindstone and bust your butt, you will get a considerable amount of work done. Maybe not all of it, but enough to make you feel like you did something that day. And then you get to run home and not have to think about it. Well, mostly.
In research-land you have to make up your own tasks. A lot of the time these tasks are sort of amorphous (do lit review on XYZ topic) that have no real beginning or end. Putting your nose to the grindstone works.... but it may take you several months before you can really see the fruits of your labor. Long story short, there are a lot of days in which you feel like you're going nowhere. And the day never really ends. When you go home, you could still be reading journal articles, preparing manuscripts, writing grants, performing analyses. Your day never truly is over until you are actually lying in bed unconscious.
It can be a difficult transition to make.
On the plus side, in academic-land you get to set your own tasks, make your own hours, and think about really cool problems.
On the minus side, if you do not solve said problems, you will not produce papers, and you will not get (or keep) your academic faculty job.
OH NO THE STRESS!!!!! AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!
It's a totally different kind of stress from having your pager be on fire's all I have to say. We agreed: It's definitely an adjustment.
In clinical-land you have a set of tasks to complete when you arrive every morning. You pager may spontaneously combust from going off so frequently, and you may have a seemingly insurmountable number of patients to see, notes to write, calls to make, etc. but generally speaking (there are exceptions), if you put your nose to the grindstone and bust your butt, you will get a considerable amount of work done. Maybe not all of it, but enough to make you feel like you did something that day. And then you get to run home and not have to think about it. Well, mostly.
In research-land you have to make up your own tasks. A lot of the time these tasks are sort of amorphous (do lit review on XYZ topic) that have no real beginning or end. Putting your nose to the grindstone works.... but it may take you several months before you can really see the fruits of your labor. Long story short, there are a lot of days in which you feel like you're going nowhere. And the day never really ends. When you go home, you could still be reading journal articles, preparing manuscripts, writing grants, performing analyses. Your day never truly is over until you are actually lying in bed unconscious.
It can be a difficult transition to make.
On the plus side, in academic-land you get to set your own tasks, make your own hours, and think about really cool problems.
On the minus side, if you do not solve said problems, you will not produce papers, and you will not get (or keep) your academic faculty job.
OH NO THE STRESS!!!!! AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!
It's a totally different kind of stress from having your pager be on fire's all I have to say. We agreed: It's definitely an adjustment.
Hair
Today I got my hair cut. It had been almost 6 months.
And although the cut is good, I specifically asked for about 2 inches.
The hairdresser took 12.
I am not thrilled.
At least she didn't give me bangs again. Then I might have killed her.
And although the cut is good, I specifically asked for about 2 inches.
The hairdresser took 12.
I am not thrilled.
At least she didn't give me bangs again. Then I might have killed her.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Nomination
I got nominated for a blog award (???) over at Dr. D's blog. In my 5 years of blogging this has never happened to me before.
Vote for me! Or not.
It's all for fun anyway.
Vote for me! Or not.
It's all for fun anyway.
Green and Blue
People can be weird about titles. Yesterday, I was talking with a PhD person about graduation ceremonies and the color of the hoods you wear for respective ceremonies. I guess an MD=blue and a PhD=green?
Anyway, he said, "I hope you realize that even after you get both degrees you should wear the GREEN hood, and not the blue one. Because an MD is not a REAL doctorate, even though they think their degree makes them superior. Green is actually higher than blue."
Oooookay....
Anyway, on a related note, I have been giving myself some hopefully undue anxiety regarding an email I sent to the NHLBI about my grant. I addressed the email to Ms. and then hit send and then immediately realized the person had a PhD. Should have put Dr. Oops.
For the record though, I'm an equal opportunity disrespector. I almost addressed an MD as Ms. earlier on as well.
So the question to myself was: Should I resend the email with the appropriate title now? Alternatively, given that nobody ever seems to respond to first emails these days anyway, and I figured I'd have to do a follow-up email, and I could correct it at that point.
But there's this nagging anxiety. What if this person gets her nose out of joint and thinks I called her "Ms." because I don't think PhDs deserve to be called doctor and then decides I am a disrespectful little turd?
Trust me. It's not like this kind of thing is rare. People take themselves way too seriously. In particular people with advanced educational degrees. Perhaps for good reason. I'll be sure to let you know if I start doing this myself in oh, about a decade from now.
At any rate. Does anyone have thoughts on this? Should I resend the email with the corrected title?
Anyway, he said, "I hope you realize that even after you get both degrees you should wear the GREEN hood, and not the blue one. Because an MD is not a REAL doctorate, even though they think their degree makes them superior. Green is actually higher than blue."
Oooookay....
Anyway, on a related note, I have been giving myself some hopefully undue anxiety regarding an email I sent to the NHLBI about my grant. I addressed the email to Ms. and then hit send and then immediately realized the person had a PhD. Should have put Dr. Oops.
For the record though, I'm an equal opportunity disrespector. I almost addressed an MD as Ms. earlier on as well.
So the question to myself was: Should I resend the email with the appropriate title now? Alternatively, given that nobody ever seems to respond to first emails these days anyway, and I figured I'd have to do a follow-up email, and I could correct it at that point.
But there's this nagging anxiety. What if this person gets her nose out of joint and thinks I called her "Ms." because I don't think PhDs deserve to be called doctor and then decides I am a disrespectful little turd?
Trust me. It's not like this kind of thing is rare. People take themselves way too seriously. In particular people with advanced educational degrees. Perhaps for good reason. I'll be sure to let you know if I start doing this myself in oh, about a decade from now.
At any rate. Does anyone have thoughts on this? Should I resend the email with the corrected title?
Thursday, January 28, 2010
I got mistaken for a 25 year old yesterday!
It totally made my evening.
We were sitting in class, and I made some reference to the date a paper was published -- wwwaaaaaayyy back in the late 1990's -- and how long ago that was.
One of the fellows (who may actually be younger than I am....) said, "Yeah, back when you were in MIDDLE SCHOOL."
Hm, no. Back when I was in college, just like you! Thanks anyway though!
See, there are benefits to being a non-trad med student. I can contextually pass as in-my-20's for another 10 years or so. Now who wouldn't want to do that!
We were sitting in class, and I made some reference to the date a paper was published -- wwwaaaaaayyy back in the late 1990's -- and how long ago that was.
One of the fellows (who may actually be younger than I am....) said, "Yeah, back when you were in MIDDLE SCHOOL."
Hm, no. Back when I was in college, just like you! Thanks anyway though!
See, there are benefits to being a non-trad med student. I can contextually pass as in-my-20's for another 10 years or so. Now who wouldn't want to do that!
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Ethics
I'm taking a class on Epi methods in bioethics. In general I am not fond of ethics, per se. Why? Because it always seems to me that the people who do it already know what they think, and are just interested in learning how to argue their point better, so as to force other people to do what they say.
However, things change when you throw in a little epi. When you do that, you can actually test the assertions the pontificators come up with. Like, with data and stuff.
And then you can show them that they are full of hot air.
Of course this is an oversimplification, but still. I like that slant. Big surprise I know. Me, disliking something a person in authority has to say?
Shocking.
Well anyway, I was chatting with my classmate who studies genetics. She was telling me what a difficult time she was going to have coming up with a topic for the final project in the class.
Nonsense! I said. Just think of a silly rule that you have to follow when you conduct your studies, or an assumption that people make about the patients you study and test that.
For me, I usually think of bad doctor stories from my rotations. Things that happened to patients that weren't really errors, but where I felt the patient got handed the short end of the stick because the doctor did something they shouldn't have. Something careless. Or mean. Or insensitive. Those are great fodder for these types of questions.
Hm. I guess that means I study the ways in which doctors are a**holes, with other pragmatic stuff thrown into the mix. Kind of fitting for me, being a compulsive boat rocker, don't you think?
However, things change when you throw in a little epi. When you do that, you can actually test the assertions the pontificators come up with. Like, with data and stuff.
And then you can show them that they are full of hot air.
Of course this is an oversimplification, but still. I like that slant. Big surprise I know. Me, disliking something a person in authority has to say?
Shocking.
Well anyway, I was chatting with my classmate who studies genetics. She was telling me what a difficult time she was going to have coming up with a topic for the final project in the class.
Nonsense! I said. Just think of a silly rule that you have to follow when you conduct your studies, or an assumption that people make about the patients you study and test that.
For me, I usually think of bad doctor stories from my rotations. Things that happened to patients that weren't really errors, but where I felt the patient got handed the short end of the stick because the doctor did something they shouldn't have. Something careless. Or mean. Or insensitive. Those are great fodder for these types of questions.
Hm. I guess that means I study the ways in which doctors are a**holes, with other pragmatic stuff thrown into the mix. Kind of fitting for me, being a compulsive boat rocker, don't you think?
Monday, January 25, 2010
Not thrilled
Boo and I went to the vet today for our distemper booster shot.
We arrived, and the vet just gave her all her shots over again. All of them. Including rabies which she had in November. THEN he asked if I had documentation of her vaccination record. I told him that I'd given it to him last time I was here, and it hadn't occurred to me that I had to bring it AGAIN. Hadn't they made a copy of it when he had disappeared into the back room with all the paperwork I had brought? Or was he too busy being angry at the fact that the PSPCA had inserted fliers for online pet med places, which he bitched about to my face?
Oh, then he chided me because Boo wasn't wearing a coat and she was shivering from having gotten drenched on the walk over. I said that we had a coat for her, but it wasn't waterproof and that I doubted it would do much good on a day like today. Come on dude! It was 60 degrees out this morning. A coat? She'll dry off and warm up when we get home and I towel her off. Ever heard of a TOWEL, buddy? She could have used one at your office.
Anyway.
And then he charged me for all the extra shots she received but didn't actually need.
There's also the small detail that he doesn't listen to me or answer my questions. I asked him what shots she was getting and he rattled them off so fast that there was no way I could understand what he was saying. I asked him about bugs and he said that I didn't have to worry about that until Spring. Perhaps. But that's not that far away. Do I need to come back for her heartworm meds? Care to tell me when? Ugh.
It all just seemed a little sucky, if you ask me. I don't think I'm going back. Anyone know of a vet that doesn't suck in the Philadelphia area?
We arrived, and the vet just gave her all her shots over again. All of them. Including rabies which she had in November. THEN he asked if I had documentation of her vaccination record. I told him that I'd given it to him last time I was here, and it hadn't occurred to me that I had to bring it AGAIN. Hadn't they made a copy of it when he had disappeared into the back room with all the paperwork I had brought? Or was he too busy being angry at the fact that the PSPCA had inserted fliers for online pet med places, which he bitched about to my face?
Oh, then he chided me because Boo wasn't wearing a coat and she was shivering from having gotten drenched on the walk over. I said that we had a coat for her, but it wasn't waterproof and that I doubted it would do much good on a day like today. Come on dude! It was 60 degrees out this morning. A coat? She'll dry off and warm up when we get home and I towel her off. Ever heard of a TOWEL, buddy? She could have used one at your office.
Anyway.
And then he charged me for all the extra shots she received but didn't actually need.
There's also the small detail that he doesn't listen to me or answer my questions. I asked him what shots she was getting and he rattled them off so fast that there was no way I could understand what he was saying. I asked him about bugs and he said that I didn't have to worry about that until Spring. Perhaps. But that's not that far away. Do I need to come back for her heartworm meds? Care to tell me when? Ugh.
It all just seemed a little sucky, if you ask me. I don't think I'm going back. Anyone know of a vet that doesn't suck in the Philadelphia area?
Draw reins* for dogs
Luca and I finally caved in and bought a Gentle Leader for Boo. To help curb her pulling. She has been getting better with the regular collar, but we noticed the other day that she was beginning to develop a pink hairless patch on her neck from all the pulling, so we decided: why not go for a pink hairless patch on her face!
Haha. Just kidding.
Anyway, she hates it.
But it works! We love it.
****
Case in point:
Yesterday when we were walking around the neighborhood, we ran into some people on the sidewalk coming out of one of the local Open Houses. We decided to mention to them that our neighbors are selling their house and that it was much nicer than this house -- which is true. AND our neighbor's house is not overpriced by $50K.
Boo was behaving excellently at the time, but even so, they backed away from our "muzzled" dog with terror in their eyes and didn't listen to a word we were saying. And then a completely berserk Labrador Retriever and Collie came around the corner both wearing one of those huge metal choke chains with spikes in it.
It turns out that these dogs belonged to a friend of the couple who was eyeing our dog suspiciously. Apparently they had no problem with the berserk animals! Just calm ones wearing a head collar.
And then!
Three more berserk dogs came around the corner.
Normally this would have resulted in Boo becoming berserk herself. However with her new head collar I was able to lead her away and she wasn't able to lunge or throw herself at any of the dogs.
It was AWESOME.
But what's with people thinking that it's a muzzle? Do they really think that tiny piece of nylon would do *anything* if a dog wanted to bite you?
My only other complaint is that she is too distracted to poo with it on yet, which was very annoying last night during the Vikings Saints game. Hello! Couldn't she tell I had something important to do! (Just kidding, I don't care that much about football.)
****
I do have a question about the way it fits. The instructional video that comes with the Gentle Leader (yes we watched it, we are nerds) goes to great lengths to tell you to fit the collar very snuggly right behind the ears so that only 1 finger fits between the dog and the collar. Well, right now about 2 fingers fit, and she has started making her snoring noise from time to time when she wears it. She can still open her mouth and eat and drink, and appears otherwise comfortable.
Do you have any thoughts on this? She's not brachycephalic or anything, and I am wondering if the collar is somehow pressing on her palate causing her to snore when it's on. Don't ask me how. Is it *too* tight?
Thoughts greatly appreciated.
****
And now we have to trek across West Philly to the vet in the pouring rain for round two of our shots. Oh joy! At least I know she won't be dragging me all the way.
Heheh.
* Draw reins are a piece of equipment you can use to make a horse put it's head down when you are riding it. Generally speaking, they are a shortcut that doesn't really help in the long run, though I used them with Penny back in the day from time to time.
Haha. Just kidding.
Anyway, she hates it.
But it works! We love it.
****
Case in point:
Yesterday when we were walking around the neighborhood, we ran into some people on the sidewalk coming out of one of the local Open Houses. We decided to mention to them that our neighbors are selling their house and that it was much nicer than this house -- which is true. AND our neighbor's house is not overpriced by $50K.
Boo was behaving excellently at the time, but even so, they backed away from our "muzzled" dog with terror in their eyes and didn't listen to a word we were saying. And then a completely berserk Labrador Retriever and Collie came around the corner both wearing one of those huge metal choke chains with spikes in it.
It turns out that these dogs belonged to a friend of the couple who was eyeing our dog suspiciously. Apparently they had no problem with the berserk animals! Just calm ones wearing a head collar.
And then!
Three more berserk dogs came around the corner.
Normally this would have resulted in Boo becoming berserk herself. However with her new head collar I was able to lead her away and she wasn't able to lunge or throw herself at any of the dogs.
It was AWESOME.
But what's with people thinking that it's a muzzle? Do they really think that tiny piece of nylon would do *anything* if a dog wanted to bite you?
My only other complaint is that she is too distracted to poo with it on yet, which was very annoying last night during the Vikings Saints game. Hello! Couldn't she tell I had something important to do! (Just kidding, I don't care that much about football.)
****
I do have a question about the way it fits. The instructional video that comes with the Gentle Leader (yes we watched it, we are nerds) goes to great lengths to tell you to fit the collar very snuggly right behind the ears so that only 1 finger fits between the dog and the collar. Well, right now about 2 fingers fit, and she has started making her snoring noise from time to time when she wears it. She can still open her mouth and eat and drink, and appears otherwise comfortable.
Do you have any thoughts on this? She's not brachycephalic or anything, and I am wondering if the collar is somehow pressing on her palate causing her to snore when it's on. Don't ask me how. Is it *too* tight?
Thoughts greatly appreciated.
****
And now we have to trek across West Philly to the vet in the pouring rain for round two of our shots. Oh joy! At least I know she won't be dragging me all the way.
Heheh.
* Draw reins are a piece of equipment you can use to make a horse put it's head down when you are riding it. Generally speaking, they are a shortcut that doesn't really help in the long run, though I used them with Penny back in the day from time to time.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Yesterday, we got furniture
Specifically a new dresser with mirror,
a cabinet/storage piece for the breakfast room,
and a dining room table.
All for $200 from a used furniture store on 59th and Lancaster Avenue that is moving out to Paoli after this week. They actually had some pretty nice stuff, and provided same day delivery.
We also changed the layout of breakfast room which made us think of a better, more cost effective way of doing our kitchen remodel. When we finally get around to it. (Hint: NO $7500 CABINETS FROM HOME DEPOT.)
Now all we need are some chairs for the dining room table and we can finally have people over to eat! At last!
Oh, and here are some gratuitous pictures of Boo and William left over from Christmas when we first got Boo.
And one from today.
She's so cute!!! Though I will admit that her illuminated tapetum lucidum* makes her look just a tad possessed.
Oh yeah, how do you like our new Boo-proof $10 rug with the skulls?
*tapeti lucidi??
a cabinet/storage piece for the breakfast room,
and a dining room table.
All for $200 from a used furniture store on 59th and Lancaster Avenue that is moving out to Paoli after this week. They actually had some pretty nice stuff, and provided same day delivery.
We also changed the layout of breakfast room which made us think of a better, more cost effective way of doing our kitchen remodel. When we finally get around to it. (Hint: NO $7500 CABINETS FROM HOME DEPOT.)
Now all we need are some chairs for the dining room table and we can finally have people over to eat! At last!
Oh, and here are some gratuitous pictures of Boo and William left over from Christmas when we first got Boo.
And one from today.
She's so cute!!! Though I will admit that her illuminated tapetum lucidum* makes her look just a tad possessed.
Oh yeah, how do you like our new Boo-proof $10 rug with the skulls?
*tapeti lucidi??
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Friday, January 22, 2010
The dirty gossip
I was talking to a faculty member in my department about the sordid gossip. That being the tale of a famous young hot shot investigator who took the offspring of a colleague out to dinner under the guise of giving her career advice. Who then took her back to his office where he drugged and raped her.
He's in jail now. But ONLY after fleeing to Italy and setting up a new lab there.
I know. It's pretty horrid, right?
But let's face it: it's not like this is a rare thing.
Another friend told me that his friend had spent three years in a lab, and all was going well -- she was about to apply for a PhD program -- when her PI came on to her. She filed a report and had to find a new lab, starting completely from scratch. Bye bye three years of work!
And sometimes it's not quite as flagrant. A former professor of mine told me that he thought I was cute, and that was why he had referred me to my undergraduate mentor -- so they could pontificate on how cute I was when they had coffee. Oh, he said, he could tell me how he felt now because I was no longer his student.
(Since I had wanted him to write a letter for me, my feeling is that the University might have felt differently, but that's a story for another time.)
Did I say anything to anybody? Turn him in?
No.
Why? Because I stood to lose a lot more than I stood to gain. I needed that letter. I was not going to let this man's pathetic advances stand in my way.
There are other reasons people don't come forward with these things, or tell the person doing it to stop:
- They fear it will be turned against them. That the person will say things about them that might make them look less than perfect.
- They fear that not only will the person get offended and be hostile to them, that they will blab around the entire community about what a bitch you are, thus ruining your career. And since they're your superior, who do you think the community will believe.
- They hope the problem will just go away. And if you avoid the person effectively enough, maybe it will.
- Compounded by the fact that they just want them to stop. Not to completely destroy THEIR career.
I used to say, why not take it up with the person directly? But the truth is: Unless it's a genuine misunderstanding between you and the other person, AND the person isn't a jerk, addressing it directly with them might have the same effect as the above.
Really, the only reason to say anything is to keep the harassment from happening to someone else in the future. It's not like doing anything other than avoiding the person is going to improve your life at all in the immediate future. And honestly, altruism for a theoretical other is not enough incentive for me to flush my career down the toilet.
Has anything like this ever happened to you, dear readers? What did you do? Did you turn the person in? Address the issue with them directly? Or did you act like me, and take what you came for and let it slide.
He's in jail now. But ONLY after fleeing to Italy and setting up a new lab there.
I know. It's pretty horrid, right?
But let's face it: it's not like this is a rare thing.
Another friend told me that his friend had spent three years in a lab, and all was going well -- she was about to apply for a PhD program -- when her PI came on to her. She filed a report and had to find a new lab, starting completely from scratch. Bye bye three years of work!
And sometimes it's not quite as flagrant. A former professor of mine told me that he thought I was cute, and that was why he had referred me to my undergraduate mentor -- so they could pontificate on how cute I was when they had coffee. Oh, he said, he could tell me how he felt now because I was no longer his student.
(Since I had wanted him to write a letter for me, my feeling is that the University might have felt differently, but that's a story for another time.)
Did I say anything to anybody? Turn him in?
No.
Why? Because I stood to lose a lot more than I stood to gain. I needed that letter. I was not going to let this man's pathetic advances stand in my way.
There are other reasons people don't come forward with these things, or tell the person doing it to stop:
- They fear it will be turned against them. That the person will say things about them that might make them look less than perfect.
- They fear that not only will the person get offended and be hostile to them, that they will blab around the entire community about what a bitch you are, thus ruining your career. And since they're your superior, who do you think the community will believe.
- They hope the problem will just go away. And if you avoid the person effectively enough, maybe it will.
- Compounded by the fact that they just want them to stop. Not to completely destroy THEIR career.
I used to say, why not take it up with the person directly? But the truth is: Unless it's a genuine misunderstanding between you and the other person, AND the person isn't a jerk, addressing it directly with them might have the same effect as the above.
Really, the only reason to say anything is to keep the harassment from happening to someone else in the future. It's not like doing anything other than avoiding the person is going to improve your life at all in the immediate future. And honestly, altruism for a theoretical other is not enough incentive for me to flush my career down the toilet.
Has anything like this ever happened to you, dear readers? What did you do? Did you turn the person in? Address the issue with them directly? Or did you act like me, and take what you came for and let it slide.
The mystery of the missing brown poo
I'd like to preface this post by saying that I ALWAYS pick up after my dog. ALWAYS. It makes me really irritated when I am trying to walk my dog in the morning, and I step in a pile left by someone who is not as conscientious.
However this morning, we had a problem. Boo did her business in a pile of leaves, and then I could not find the poo. Was I wearing my glasses? Check. Were the lights on in the park? Check. I even felt around for warm squishyness through the Target bag I was carrying to pick up said poo.
I felt nothing.
I did not however, get on my hands knees.
After 5 minutes or so, I eventually resigned myself to the fact that this poo would be left in the leaves. Perhaps I could pick it up later during the lunchtime walk, I thought.
But when I went back at lunchtime, the poo was still not to be found. It has been lost in the void, sucked into a veritable brown hole, if you will.
Hopefully karma won't make me step in it or someone else's steaming pile tomorrow morning in retribution.
However this morning, we had a problem. Boo did her business in a pile of leaves, and then I could not find the poo. Was I wearing my glasses? Check. Were the lights on in the park? Check. I even felt around for warm squishyness through the Target bag I was carrying to pick up said poo.
I felt nothing.
I did not however, get on my hands knees.
After 5 minutes or so, I eventually resigned myself to the fact that this poo would be left in the leaves. Perhaps I could pick it up later during the lunchtime walk, I thought.
But when I went back at lunchtime, the poo was still not to be found. It has been lost in the void, sucked into a veritable brown hole, if you will.
Hopefully karma won't make me step in it or someone else's steaming pile tomorrow morning in retribution.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Crate
Note to self: A dog crated all day yields a tornado like ball of energy for many hours when let out. Just trust me on this one.
Conversation today
Him: How many classes did you take last semester?
Me: 4.something.
Him: Huh. And were you able to get any work done on anything else? Like your project?
Me: No.
Him: Huh. I guess that explains why I can't get anything done. I think I'm taking too many classes.
Me: Glad I could be of assistance.
Note to self: Never EVER take 4 real classes again, lest I graduate in 6 years.
Me: 4.something.
Him: Huh. And were you able to get any work done on anything else? Like your project?
Me: No.
Him: Huh. I guess that explains why I can't get anything done. I think I'm taking too many classes.
Me: Glad I could be of assistance.
Note to self: Never EVER take 4 real classes again, lest I graduate in 6 years.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Singing
The other day I overheard my husband in the other room.
He was singing to the dog.
I guess that means he likes her?
He was singing to the dog.
I guess that means he likes her?
Trust
In med school we filled out anonymous evaluations for everything. Every class, every professor, everything. We were assured that what we said would never be held against us.
But about halfway through school, several students got into trouble for how they had filled out their evals. Some had filled required comment fields with nonsense text like, "hfoiwnfijd" for instance, and others had said something like, "This class sucks." They were called in for formal reprimands regarding their professionalism. I don't know if it went on their records, but it might have.
Not to worry. I was not one of the ones who got into trouble. Why? Because I know there is no such thing as "anonymous."
People in the class were outraged at the alleged deception that took place. I could relate. But I've worked before, you see. I already knew that the administration had been lying to us. It wasn't a big deal. All administrations lie. You should know that.
Why am I bringing this up? Our hospital has an "anonymous" reporting system where you can report threats to patient safety. I think in principle that this system is a great idea for patients and staff. That it could help foster a culture of safety and fix problems that people avoid addressing because it's the boss who is the perpetrator.
In reality I know that these reports will never be truly anonymous. The reports are filled out on computers, and really? Nothing you ever do on a computer is truly anonymous. The computer has a location and a finite number of people have regular access to it. And now? The computers require that you log in. It's a security thing so that patients can't get onto the computers as well. But bye bye previous vestige of anonymity!!
That alone would make me reluctant to use this kind of error reporting system. There are other problems as well though. I worry that maybe I misunderstood the situation, and now someone is going to get into trouble for no good reason. I worry that even if there was a real error or oversight, I don't want to ruin another person's career/life (it really and truly happens, guys). On the other side of the spectrum I worry that nothing will be done and my report will not matter. Or that I will be traced and somehow it will be made into my fault.
Stranger things have happened.
I don't know how to make the reporting system better. I fundamentally just don't trust the people who run it, or really most people for that matter. The important takeaway from this is that a smart person never believes anyone who says that something is anonymous. Don't fall into that trap, dear readers. You don't want your own careers/lives ruined, do you?
But about halfway through school, several students got into trouble for how they had filled out their evals. Some had filled required comment fields with nonsense text like, "hfoiwnfijd" for instance, and others had said something like, "This class sucks." They were called in for formal reprimands regarding their professionalism. I don't know if it went on their records, but it might have.
Not to worry. I was not one of the ones who got into trouble. Why? Because I know there is no such thing as "anonymous."
People in the class were outraged at the alleged deception that took place. I could relate. But I've worked before, you see. I already knew that the administration had been lying to us. It wasn't a big deal. All administrations lie. You should know that.
Why am I bringing this up? Our hospital has an "anonymous" reporting system where you can report threats to patient safety. I think in principle that this system is a great idea for patients and staff. That it could help foster a culture of safety and fix problems that people avoid addressing because it's the boss who is the perpetrator.
In reality I know that these reports will never be truly anonymous. The reports are filled out on computers, and really? Nothing you ever do on a computer is truly anonymous. The computer has a location and a finite number of people have regular access to it. And now? The computers require that you log in. It's a security thing so that patients can't get onto the computers as well. But bye bye previous vestige of anonymity!!
That alone would make me reluctant to use this kind of error reporting system. There are other problems as well though. I worry that maybe I misunderstood the situation, and now someone is going to get into trouble for no good reason. I worry that even if there was a real error or oversight, I don't want to ruin another person's career/life (it really and truly happens, guys). On the other side of the spectrum I worry that nothing will be done and my report will not matter. Or that I will be traced and somehow it will be made into my fault.
Stranger things have happened.
I don't know how to make the reporting system better. I fundamentally just don't trust the people who run it, or really most people for that matter. The important takeaway from this is that a smart person never believes anyone who says that something is anonymous. Don't fall into that trap, dear readers. You don't want your own careers/lives ruined, do you?
Monday, January 18, 2010
Disturbing
I just discovered that while Microsoft Word does NOT know the word, "generalizability," it does in fact know the word, "episiotomy."
(Blogger knows neither.)
Disturbing.
(Blogger knows neither.)
Disturbing.
ObGyn
I ran into my classmate who is going into Ob/Gyn today. The only one in my class going into Ob/Gyn, in fact. This fact angers the Ob/Gyns at my medical establishment. They think we are lazy little turds. Of course, I do have several female friends going into surgery, who might have gone into Ob under different circumstances..... But maybe that's because surgery rotations don't suck at my med school.*
She is nice. For now.
She is going into Ob/Gyn instead of surgery because she prefers the culture. (WTF??????) To each his/her own I suppose. All I remember about the culture is a bunch of exhausted women being really really nasty to me for 5 weeks, being told that my husband is going to cheat on me (What? You think you're BETTER than that woman in there? Woah.), having to go to the midwives to actually get in on a delivery, and being given backhanded compliments about my ability to talk to patients (Wow, that patient really opened up to you. I would NEVER have expected her to do that with YOU.). One of the epi fellows is an Ob/Gyn, and even though I never worked under her in the hospital and she is ALWAYS very nice to me, every time I see her I get a little PTSD-y and want to scream, "DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I HATED THAT ROTATION!!! YOU ALL SUCKED!!!"
But I don't.
So anyway, my friend was telling me which fellows/attendings she was working with on her scholarly pursuit. My first thought (After I got over the, wait who is that?) was: I know that person. She was the fellow (attending?) who couldn't even be bothered to be pleasant to me when I said hi to her in the hallway of the Epi building.
In fact (if I am remembering me correctly) she looked at me -- and then spoke to me -- as though I were the lowest form of life on the planet. Sneering. 5'2" and seated, but STILL somehow able to look down her nose at me. For no reason.
She had been sitting waiting for an appointment with the person I had just been meeting with, and I came out and said, "He's all yours. Oh! You look familiar. Do I know you from the hospital? What department are you in?"
The conversation I should have had with her might have gone like this: "Hm, what does that look you just gave me mean, I wonder? And where do you get off talking to another person like that? Ever wonder why med students here don't go into Ob? Well, that might be part of the reason right there, you unpleasant bitch."
Of course, I didn't say that. And I never will in real life. And that is probably a good thing.
Good thing I have my blog.
*And I'd like to point out, I got a good grade in Ob/Gyn. And good evaluations. God help the people they actually hated.
She is nice. For now.
She is going into Ob/Gyn instead of surgery because she prefers the culture. (WTF??????) To each his/her own I suppose. All I remember about the culture is a bunch of exhausted women being really really nasty to me for 5 weeks, being told that my husband is going to cheat on me (What? You think you're BETTER than that woman in there? Woah.), having to go to the midwives to actually get in on a delivery, and being given backhanded compliments about my ability to talk to patients (Wow, that patient really opened up to you. I would NEVER have expected her to do that with YOU.). One of the epi fellows is an Ob/Gyn, and even though I never worked under her in the hospital and she is ALWAYS very nice to me, every time I see her I get a little PTSD-y and want to scream, "DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I HATED THAT ROTATION!!! YOU ALL SUCKED!!!"
But I don't.
So anyway, my friend was telling me which fellows/attendings she was working with on her scholarly pursuit. My first thought (After I got over the, wait who is that?) was: I know that person. She was the fellow (attending?) who couldn't even be bothered to be pleasant to me when I said hi to her in the hallway of the Epi building.
In fact (if I am remembering me correctly) she looked at me -- and then spoke to me -- as though I were the lowest form of life on the planet. Sneering. 5'2" and seated, but STILL somehow able to look down her nose at me. For no reason.
She had been sitting waiting for an appointment with the person I had just been meeting with, and I came out and said, "He's all yours. Oh! You look familiar. Do I know you from the hospital? What department are you in?"
The conversation I should have had with her might have gone like this: "Hm, what does that look you just gave me mean, I wonder? And where do you get off talking to another person like that? Ever wonder why med students here don't go into Ob? Well, that might be part of the reason right there, you unpleasant bitch."
Of course, I didn't say that. And I never will in real life. And that is probably a good thing.
Good thing I have my blog.
*And I'd like to point out, I got a good grade in Ob/Gyn. And good evaluations. God help the people they actually hated.
Tiny Brains
Luca and I had Boo's foster mommies over for a visit this weekend. They remarked on how great she looked, how she's put on weight and how her fur has grown back from where it had been clipped for surgery.
Then we got to talking about her jaws. The fact that dog heads are all muscle.
You see, when I felt William's jaws (my parents' Standard Poodle), all you can really feel are teeth. With Boo, there are bulging balls of muscle. Ah, pit bull mixes with their vice grip mouths.
One of the foster mommies commented that when she was doing her vet school dissection of the dog, she was surprised at how much muscle is on a dog's head. Human heads have comparatively little muscle, but I guess on a dog's head there are hollowed out places in the skull where the muscles attach. Leaving much less room for a brain that you might otherwise expect.
"So much muscle, and such tiny brains! It really explains so much," she said.
Yes, yes it does.
Then we got to talking about her jaws. The fact that dog heads are all muscle.
You see, when I felt William's jaws (my parents' Standard Poodle), all you can really feel are teeth. With Boo, there are bulging balls of muscle. Ah, pit bull mixes with their vice grip mouths.
One of the foster mommies commented that when she was doing her vet school dissection of the dog, she was surprised at how much muscle is on a dog's head. Human heads have comparatively little muscle, but I guess on a dog's head there are hollowed out places in the skull where the muscles attach. Leaving much less room for a brain that you might otherwise expect.
"So much muscle, and such tiny brains! It really explains so much," she said.
Yes, yes it does.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
One thing I learned doing lit review last week
So I've been reading a lot of articles about rationing lately. Not much on the topic *I'm* thinking of doing (thank god), but a fair amount on ethics, hypotheticals, and what happens over in the UK.
Apparently in the UK the public thinks that their tax money gets wasted on middle managers in the health care system. I was struck by the parallels with the US, where the public thinks that doctors and pharma companies are constantly trying to squeeze patients. Well, there may be some truth to that.... but that's a topic for another day.
Anyway, I was reading an article on cost-effectiveness and rationing. A survey on the public's preferences for the allocation of organs, I think it was. And it turned out that in general, the public wanted most organs to go to people who would benefit the most from them.
Yay cost-effectiveness!
There is a but, though.
The public also wanted a portion of the organs to go to patients who did NOT have as good a prognosis. They wanted those patients to have a chance.
I guess it's easy to see one's self in a position where you're being denied treatment just because you don't quite make some arbitrarily set criteria, and people are cognizant of that.
I thought it was really interesting. In effect, they're saying that they are willing to sacrifice a small number of lives in order to give a broader group of people a chance.
In light of the fact that as we continue moving forward with health care reform, and as resources become more scarce as the population ages, I think it's important to consider issues like this. People don't want raw and unadulterated cost-effectiveness, even if that is the best way to maximize lives saved. They want transparency and a fair chance not to be written off as a hopeless case. In a democracy, we need to take these preferences into account.
Something to think about.
Apparently in the UK the public thinks that their tax money gets wasted on middle managers in the health care system. I was struck by the parallels with the US, where the public thinks that doctors and pharma companies are constantly trying to squeeze patients. Well, there may be some truth to that.... but that's a topic for another day.
Anyway, I was reading an article on cost-effectiveness and rationing. A survey on the public's preferences for the allocation of organs, I think it was. And it turned out that in general, the public wanted most organs to go to people who would benefit the most from them.
Yay cost-effectiveness!
There is a but, though.
The public also wanted a portion of the organs to go to patients who did NOT have as good a prognosis. They wanted those patients to have a chance.
I guess it's easy to see one's self in a position where you're being denied treatment just because you don't quite make some arbitrarily set criteria, and people are cognizant of that.
I thought it was really interesting. In effect, they're saying that they are willing to sacrifice a small number of lives in order to give a broader group of people a chance.
In light of the fact that as we continue moving forward with health care reform, and as resources become more scarce as the population ages, I think it's important to consider issues like this. People don't want raw and unadulterated cost-effectiveness, even if that is the best way to maximize lives saved. They want transparency and a fair chance not to be written off as a hopeless case. In a democracy, we need to take these preferences into account.
Something to think about.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Boo-atrix Kiddo
Last night I came home late due to MD-PhD recruiting events. I was kind of feeling blah. The co-student sitting at my table was gushing about how great her non-trad PhD department has been getting her in touch with all these prospective mentors, providing advice, and generally being awesome and supportive of her.
This was in stark contrast to *my* experience three years ago when my assigned mentor wouldn't even email me back after multiple attempts. He was the old head of the PhD program, for goodness sakes! He had been the one who accepted me into the program! Or when I'd meet with other people in my department who didn't know you could do an MD-PhD in epi, and they'd ask me why didn't I already have a mentor? Was I some sort of f***-up? (And yes they asked me that, not in those words.)
Quite frankly, it made me hate her just a little. I have had to roll the veritable boulder uphill with my department for the past four years, and with her, everything has been comparatively presented on a silver platter. It kind of made me want to give up. I'm never going to succeed when I have to fight a battle with my department over every stinking thing I do. Perhaps she was embellishing a little for the applicants, but I've had conversations like this with her in other contexts before.
Anyway, I was taking the bus home and gave Luca a call when I was crossing the bridge. And when I got to my stop he was there with Boo, who was wagging and happy and lick-y and ever so happy to see me, jumping up and down like a dog on a pogo stick on the end of her leash. It made me feel so much better.
If only I could bring Boo with me to school.
*Sigh!*
This was in stark contrast to *my* experience three years ago when my assigned mentor wouldn't even email me back after multiple attempts. He was the old head of the PhD program, for goodness sakes! He had been the one who accepted me into the program! Or when I'd meet with other people in my department who didn't know you could do an MD-PhD in epi, and they'd ask me why didn't I already have a mentor? Was I some sort of f***-up? (And yes they asked me that, not in those words.)
Quite frankly, it made me hate her just a little. I have had to roll the veritable boulder uphill with my department for the past four years, and with her, everything has been comparatively presented on a silver platter. It kind of made me want to give up. I'm never going to succeed when I have to fight a battle with my department over every stinking thing I do. Perhaps she was embellishing a little for the applicants, but I've had conversations like this with her in other contexts before.
Anyway, I was taking the bus home and gave Luca a call when I was crossing the bridge. And when I got to my stop he was there with Boo, who was wagging and happy and lick-y and ever so happy to see me, jumping up and down like a dog on a pogo stick on the end of her leash. It made me feel so much better.
If only I could bring Boo with me to school.
*Sigh!*
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Haiti
Last night I was watching the news about the earthquake in Haiti. It made me sad.
I saw all the aid that was being sent from various countries. It seemed pretty paltry, really. The number that stood out the most to me was, "134 search and rescue personnel and 6 dogs" from France.
Wait, 6 dogs? That was IT??? To find hundreds of thousands of people?
It seemed really really pathetic.
Talking to my husband, he was saying that developed countries aren't sending aid because of the lack of infrastructure in Haiti. That though 80% of the country's GDP comes from foreign aid, it is unclear how much of the aid goes to actually helping people, and how much goes to the dictator.
Watching and talking about this made me feel sad and impotent.
Yet another reason to be grateful for the life I have.
I saw all the aid that was being sent from various countries. It seemed pretty paltry, really. The number that stood out the most to me was, "134 search and rescue personnel and 6 dogs" from France.
Wait, 6 dogs? That was IT??? To find hundreds of thousands of people?
It seemed really really pathetic.
Talking to my husband, he was saying that developed countries aren't sending aid because of the lack of infrastructure in Haiti. That though 80% of the country's GDP comes from foreign aid, it is unclear how much of the aid goes to actually helping people, and how much goes to the dictator.
Watching and talking about this made me feel sad and impotent.
Yet another reason to be grateful for the life I have.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Reveal #2
My name is Old MD Girl, and I am an only child.
Gasp!
I know, it explains a lot, right? Like my narcissism and self-centeredness. Evidenced by having a blog, for instance.
I hate feeling the need to make a self-deprecating joke about it. But I do. Mostly because people seem to have very strong opinions on the subject.
I remember growing up being really annoyed when people would tell me that I was spoiled because I was an only child. A) As if *I* had anything to do with that decision, and B) as if telling a child this is itself indicative of high functioning social skills. Were they planning on "fixing" me in some way? God I hoped not.
And did you know? People still tell me things like this. During my psych rotation (ah the irony) a classmate spent the better part of 30 minutes lecturing me about how spoiled and socially maladjusted ALL only children were, and how as one of four, her social skills benefited immeasurably.
My friends, many of whom are now having multiple babies, tell me that they are having more than one so as not to spoil the first one. Maybe they're justifying it to themselves since two is so much more work than one?
Even my nurse practitioner at my gyne appointment yesterday felt the need to tell me how important having more than one child was. Then I told her that I was an only child, and she backtracked vigorously.
I don't know why people feel the need to say these things. It's not as though I walk around telling people with lots of brothers and sisters that they are prototypical middle children, for instance. Or that as one of six, surely their parents must have neglected them resulting in what is probably a sub-optimal IQ.
What do I really think about the subject? Well on one hand, I definitely benefited from being an only child in a lot of ways. I was able to go to private school, ride horses, have my parents to myself. There are disadvantages too, of course. I was lonely growing up sometimes. As my parents get older, I will be the one who has to handle their affairs. And no matter how good friends you have, there's nothing quite like family to be there for you in your time of need.
On the other hand, having siblings certainly doesn't guarantee any of that. A number of my friends can't stand, or at best are ambivalent towards their brothers and sisters. Or a sibling can leave you with all the family affairs to take care of, or be a leach on the rest of the family.
So there it is. As with most things, it cuts both ways. I just wish people would just let it alone.
Gasp!
I know, it explains a lot, right? Like my narcissism and self-centeredness. Evidenced by having a blog, for instance.
I hate feeling the need to make a self-deprecating joke about it. But I do. Mostly because people seem to have very strong opinions on the subject.
I remember growing up being really annoyed when people would tell me that I was spoiled because I was an only child. A) As if *I* had anything to do with that decision, and B) as if telling a child this is itself indicative of high functioning social skills. Were they planning on "fixing" me in some way? God I hoped not.
And did you know? People still tell me things like this. During my psych rotation (ah the irony) a classmate spent the better part of 30 minutes lecturing me about how spoiled and socially maladjusted ALL only children were, and how as one of four, her social skills benefited immeasurably.
My friends, many of whom are now having multiple babies, tell me that they are having more than one so as not to spoil the first one. Maybe they're justifying it to themselves since two is so much more work than one?
Even my nurse practitioner at my gyne appointment yesterday felt the need to tell me how important having more than one child was. Then I told her that I was an only child, and she backtracked vigorously.
I don't know why people feel the need to say these things. It's not as though I walk around telling people with lots of brothers and sisters that they are prototypical middle children, for instance. Or that as one of six, surely their parents must have neglected them resulting in what is probably a sub-optimal IQ.
What do I really think about the subject? Well on one hand, I definitely benefited from being an only child in a lot of ways. I was able to go to private school, ride horses, have my parents to myself. There are disadvantages too, of course. I was lonely growing up sometimes. As my parents get older, I will be the one who has to handle their affairs. And no matter how good friends you have, there's nothing quite like family to be there for you in your time of need.
On the other hand, having siblings certainly doesn't guarantee any of that. A number of my friends can't stand, or at best are ambivalent towards their brothers and sisters. Or a sibling can leave you with all the family affairs to take care of, or be a leach on the rest of the family.
So there it is. As with most things, it cuts both ways. I just wish people would just let it alone.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
36
I walked 36 miles last week. And I swam 5 times, or a bit over 10,000 yards.
I guess I accomplished goal #1 for the year. Hopefully I won't slack too much once school starts....
I guess I accomplished goal #1 for the year. Hopefully I won't slack too much once school starts....
Monday, January 11, 2010
Last Semester
I was talking with my dad this morning and came to this conclusion: Last semester sucked! As the trail blazer MD-PhD student in my Epi department, I felt like I got jerked around left and right. Below is a list of my grievances:
1. I got royally jerked around about my funding. See, I am guaranteed funding in my program, and also had been told that I could "do anything I wanted" for my thesis. So they put me on their pharmacoepi grant telling me that I could still do "anything I wanted" for my project after I protested that I didn't know if I really wanted to do drug studies. Apparently that wasn't true, as when I finally decided on my topic area and mentor, neither of which had anything to do with drugs at all, the s*** hit the fan and I was told that I had "promised" that my project would have to do with therapeutics. A simple case of them hearing what they wanted to hear I think, but they proceeded to try to make it my problem for, oh.... about 6 months. It's (temporarily) resolved now, but it wasn't fun at the time.
2. When I was accepted, I was told to expect my PhD program to take 3-4 years MAX. We now have a new program director (who is very nice) but opened his conversation with me saying that I should expect my PhD program to take 4-5 years AT LEAST. Hi. That wasn't what I signed up for.
3. The excessive amounts of onerous busy-work classes. Now, biostatistics is truly useful, but two of my other classes (out of 4), were not for the most part and had enormous amounts of reading that you sometimes had to do, and sometimes did not. It took a while to figure out exactly what I should have been blowing off. And I'm not somebody who likes to blow things off anyway. The number of "required" classes seemed to grow and grow such that it looked for a while like I'd be taking a full time load for two full years. Ouch! Thankfully, we got some of that ironed out.... but it was a painful process to say the least.
Classes start on Wednesday this week, and I am hoping this semester turns out less shitty. I am being smarter with my schedule, and trying to make things as easy on myself as possible so that I can (I hope) finish a grant by April and resolve my recurring funding issue. Not sure what I will do if I don't get the grant, but I suppose we'll figure that out when the time comes.
At least I know that I'm expected to blow off my course work now. My mentor basically told me so in so many words last week, and he's teaching one of my classes!
Cross your fingers with me guys, and let's hope that this semester sucks less. Please?
1. I got royally jerked around about my funding. See, I am guaranteed funding in my program, and also had been told that I could "do anything I wanted" for my thesis. So they put me on their pharmacoepi grant telling me that I could still do "anything I wanted" for my project after I protested that I didn't know if I really wanted to do drug studies. Apparently that wasn't true, as when I finally decided on my topic area and mentor, neither of which had anything to do with drugs at all, the s*** hit the fan and I was told that I had "promised" that my project would have to do with therapeutics. A simple case of them hearing what they wanted to hear I think, but they proceeded to try to make it my problem for, oh.... about 6 months. It's (temporarily) resolved now, but it wasn't fun at the time.
2. When I was accepted, I was told to expect my PhD program to take 3-4 years MAX. We now have a new program director (who is very nice) but opened his conversation with me saying that I should expect my PhD program to take 4-5 years AT LEAST. Hi. That wasn't what I signed up for.
3. The excessive amounts of onerous busy-work classes. Now, biostatistics is truly useful, but two of my other classes (out of 4), were not for the most part and had enormous amounts of reading that you sometimes had to do, and sometimes did not. It took a while to figure out exactly what I should have been blowing off. And I'm not somebody who likes to blow things off anyway. The number of "required" classes seemed to grow and grow such that it looked for a while like I'd be taking a full time load for two full years. Ouch! Thankfully, we got some of that ironed out.... but it was a painful process to say the least.
Classes start on Wednesday this week, and I am hoping this semester turns out less shitty. I am being smarter with my schedule, and trying to make things as easy on myself as possible so that I can (I hope) finish a grant by April and resolve my recurring funding issue. Not sure what I will do if I don't get the grant, but I suppose we'll figure that out when the time comes.
At least I know that I'm expected to blow off my course work now. My mentor basically told me so in so many words last week, and he's teaching one of my classes!
Cross your fingers with me guys, and let's hope that this semester sucks less. Please?
Sunday, January 10, 2010
The big reveal
Ok readers, here it is:
1. I grew up in Manhattan
2. I went to private school most of my life, including a prep school for high school
3. I had a horse when I was a teenager (I was actually a pretty hard core rider)
Do you think I'm a rich snotty asshole who thinks she's better than everyone else?
When I lived in Chicago I took care to avoid these subjects because suddenly seemingly nice people started being jerks to me. One former colleague told me point blank that she "hated New Yorkers," and that they were all rich assholes.
It was interesting. Up until that point I thought she was ok. After that I thought she wasn't.
I think what bothers me the most is that I don't like people who fit that stereotype either. I don't see myself as like that at all. I am also incredulous about the people in my med school class whose parents have bought them condos, the brand new car, who go out to eat 5 nights a week, and still complain they have no money. Mentioning this doesn't tend to get me far, though.
Now that I'm a little older and care a little less, I have stopped omitting this information about myself. It's a quick and dirty way to weed out the judgmental types. And plus, I don't have anything to apologize about regarding where I came from.
So readers: Are there things about yourselves that you hide because of the negative assumptions people make?
1. I grew up in Manhattan
2. I went to private school most of my life, including a prep school for high school
3. I had a horse when I was a teenager (I was actually a pretty hard core rider)
Do you think I'm a rich snotty asshole who thinks she's better than everyone else?
When I lived in Chicago I took care to avoid these subjects because suddenly seemingly nice people started being jerks to me. One former colleague told me point blank that she "hated New Yorkers," and that they were all rich assholes.
It was interesting. Up until that point I thought she was ok. After that I thought she wasn't.
I think what bothers me the most is that I don't like people who fit that stereotype either. I don't see myself as like that at all. I am also incredulous about the people in my med school class whose parents have bought them condos, the brand new car, who go out to eat 5 nights a week, and still complain they have no money. Mentioning this doesn't tend to get me far, though.
Now that I'm a little older and care a little less, I have stopped omitting this information about myself. It's a quick and dirty way to weed out the judgmental types. And plus, I don't have anything to apologize about regarding where I came from.
So readers: Are there things about yourselves that you hide because of the negative assumptions people make?
Saturday, January 09, 2010
Fast Times
This afternoon Luca and I watched Fast Times at Ridgemont High. I don't know how Luca had managed to get to this point in life without having seen this masterpiece, but it was a deficit I felt needed to be rectified.
Watching it took me back. To senior year of high school to be exact.
You see, during senior year in the springtime at my high school (I went to boarding school), seniors had the *privilege* of staying out until 10:30(!) on Friday night (bear in mind we had class on Saturday). They would show a movie to us, usually rated R I believe since we were all 17 or older by that point, if that was how we desired to spend our extra 30 minutes of freedom.
As if.
Anyway.
I remember one week during auditorium hearing about the controversy that had ensued following the showing of Fast Times at Ridgemont High the previous Friday night. Some faculty members thought that it was irresponsible to have shown a movie that depicted irresponsible sex without consequences* and drug use among teenagers to a group of 17 year olds. That the movie might encourage us to have sex(!) and use drugs(!), and cause us to "catch AIDS"(!). Maybe some parents had even complained. From then on, no rated R movies were shown, thus more or less defeating the purpose of senior movie night. I think the activity died shortly thereafter.
I hadn't seen the movie since I was off doing something else with my time, probably making out with some boy on the golf course. Ha! But, the scandal intrigued me and I did watch it shortly thereafter.
Anyway, I enjoyed it this time as much as I had the first time I saw it. Classic.
*Duh there were consequences!! She ends up having an abortion!
Watching it took me back. To senior year of high school to be exact.
You see, during senior year in the springtime at my high school (I went to boarding school), seniors had the *privilege* of staying out until 10:30(!) on Friday night (bear in mind we had class on Saturday). They would show a movie to us, usually rated R I believe since we were all 17 or older by that point, if that was how we desired to spend our extra 30 minutes of freedom.
As if.
Anyway.
I remember one week during auditorium hearing about the controversy that had ensued following the showing of Fast Times at Ridgemont High the previous Friday night. Some faculty members thought that it was irresponsible to have shown a movie that depicted irresponsible sex without consequences* and drug use among teenagers to a group of 17 year olds. That the movie might encourage us to have sex(!) and use drugs(!), and cause us to "catch AIDS"(!). Maybe some parents had even complained. From then on, no rated R movies were shown, thus more or less defeating the purpose of senior movie night. I think the activity died shortly thereafter.
I hadn't seen the movie since I was off doing something else with my time, probably making out with some boy on the golf course. Ha! But, the scandal intrigued me and I did watch it shortly thereafter.
Anyway, I enjoyed it this time as much as I had the first time I saw it. Classic.
*Duh there were consequences!! She ends up having an abortion!
Friday, January 08, 2010
Other people's trash
One of the few things I don't like about our house is the way that the leaves -- and everybody else's garbage -- seem to come to a swirling mess right at the base of the stairs at the entrance to our house. No matter how often we rake, there always seems to be new masses of leaves +/- a new can of Colt 44, an empty plastic bag, a McDonald's soda container piled in front of the house.
And then there is the plastic bag that has landed in the tree right outside our house. Just out of reach, and right in my line of sight as I gaze out the window when I work on my computer. I wonder if it will EVER break free from its branch.
And of course there are the poo-cicles in the park where all the dogs in the neighborhood shit. Is it really so hard to clean up after your dog? Do you like stepping in shit when you walk in the park? I know I don't. Thankfully most of the turds are frozen now, otherwise my shoes would be really offensive by now.
I never really noticed how gross that park was until I walked my dog there three times per day. There's always a new broken bottle, new nest of plastic wrappers scattered all over the ground. Is it really so hard to throw your trash away? There are 5 trash containers in that park. I counted them yesterday.
Sigh. I suppose it's the price you pay for living in the city. At least we *have* a park.
And then there is the plastic bag that has landed in the tree right outside our house. Just out of reach, and right in my line of sight as I gaze out the window when I work on my computer. I wonder if it will EVER break free from its branch.
And of course there are the poo-cicles in the park where all the dogs in the neighborhood shit. Is it really so hard to clean up after your dog? Do you like stepping in shit when you walk in the park? I know I don't. Thankfully most of the turds are frozen now, otherwise my shoes would be really offensive by now.
I never really noticed how gross that park was until I walked my dog there three times per day. There's always a new broken bottle, new nest of plastic wrappers scattered all over the ground. Is it really so hard to throw your trash away? There are 5 trash containers in that park. I counted them yesterday.
Sigh. I suppose it's the price you pay for living in the city. At least we *have* a park.
Thursday, January 07, 2010
MD-PhD Womens events
Tonight I went to a recruitment dinner for some prospective MD-PhDs. They're actually recruiting Epi students now! And the ones they had were pretty cool.
Anyway, at some point the fact that I know absolutely nobody outside of my own MD-PhD class became painfully apparent.
So I said, "Well, I know some women in other classes from the womens events we've been having lately."
Some white 23 or so year old guy said, "Uh, aren't there MEN'S events?"
I said, "Yeah, that's the rest of medical school."
Maybe I should have said, "Oh you poor delicate flower! Are we discriminating against you? Awwwww!"
Anyway, at some point the fact that I know absolutely nobody outside of my own MD-PhD class became painfully apparent.
So I said, "Well, I know some women in other classes from the womens events we've been having lately."
Some white 23 or so year old guy said, "Uh, aren't there MEN'S events?"
I said, "Yeah, that's the rest of medical school."
Maybe I should have said, "Oh you poor delicate flower! Are we discriminating against you? Awwwww!"
Reclaiming the Ghetto
Today after my AM meeting, I ran home to let Boo out of the crate and take her for a walk. As I was walking her down xxth street, a white couple driving an old Corrolla stopped in the middle of the street and pointed at us as we strolled* by. Waved and smiled.
It kind of seemed like it was a, "Look honey, there ARE people like us in this neighborhood."
See, it wasn't so long ago that my neighborhood was a complete and total s***hole. There were crack houses on 49th street, several boarded up houses on every block, and three years ago a mentally disabled teenager was beaten to death by a group of kids because he "looked at them funny" not three blocks away from where I live now.
As it turns out, my neighborhood has made a pretty quick transformation from ghetto to pretty nice place to live over the past 5 years. And that probably has to do with the fact that people have gotten priced out of the *really* nice part of West Philly where houses sell for half a million easy.
That being said, Luca and I live most distinctly on the border of this nice neighborhood. 1.5 blocks to the west or north is still pretty bad. And to be honest, as recently as last semester I haven't been so excited about walking home by myself in the dark at the end of the day.
Which is one of the things I LOVE about having a dog. Now, whether or not I am *actually* more safe, I do not know. But I feel so much more empowered to walk around by myself at night when I have Boo with me. People say hi to me, smile, want to pet the dog. During the day is a non-issue entirely.
And yesterday right at sunset I walked down even one street further west than I usually go, where I had previously never ventured by myself during the day or night.
And I confirmed: It's still not a great neighborhood, but it's a lot better than it was even a year ago.
I really like this exploring. I'm looking forward to doing it even more as the weather gets nicer. It makes me feel like part of a community, which I haven't felt since I left Chicago to come to med school.
*Yes, STROLLED. Miss. Boo wasn't pulling at all!
It kind of seemed like it was a, "Look honey, there ARE people like us in this neighborhood."
See, it wasn't so long ago that my neighborhood was a complete and total s***hole. There were crack houses on 49th street, several boarded up houses on every block, and three years ago a mentally disabled teenager was beaten to death by a group of kids because he "looked at them funny" not three blocks away from where I live now.
As it turns out, my neighborhood has made a pretty quick transformation from ghetto to pretty nice place to live over the past 5 years. And that probably has to do with the fact that people have gotten priced out of the *really* nice part of West Philly where houses sell for half a million easy.
That being said, Luca and I live most distinctly on the border of this nice neighborhood. 1.5 blocks to the west or north is still pretty bad. And to be honest, as recently as last semester I haven't been so excited about walking home by myself in the dark at the end of the day.
Which is one of the things I LOVE about having a dog. Now, whether or not I am *actually* more safe, I do not know. But I feel so much more empowered to walk around by myself at night when I have Boo with me. People say hi to me, smile, want to pet the dog. During the day is a non-issue entirely.
And yesterday right at sunset I walked down even one street further west than I usually go, where I had previously never ventured by myself during the day or night.
And I confirmed: It's still not a great neighborhood, but it's a lot better than it was even a year ago.
I really like this exploring. I'm looking forward to doing it even more as the weather gets nicer. It makes me feel like part of a community, which I haven't felt since I left Chicago to come to med school.
*Yes, STROLLED. Miss. Boo wasn't pulling at all!
Tuesday, January 05, 2010
Suggestions Please
Ok, this is another dog post. If what has happened to my blog post Boo is any indication of what will happen to it post future reproduction, please consider yourselves warned: Mommy-blogdom here I come!!!
AHHHHHHHH!!!!!!
And now, some questions:
1. We are getting better at walking on a loose (but short) leash. However, we are still having problems with getting the dog to walk next to or behind me -- she is usually a step or two in front. She is much more relaxed on our walks though. Is this something that can be a work in progress, or am I hopelessly screwed because I am settling for a loose leash rather than a walk behind me on a loose leash right now? I fear we wouldn't get more than 10 feet or so if I insisted on both for now.
2. I have started leaving her during the day for a few hours. This is all a prelude to the return to normal life in which I have classes and responsibilitiesTM. She doesn't seem anxious when I come home, and only gets into things a little. Today she destroyed my husband's The Clash cd and a pen, but nothing else. Should we re-crate her? It just seems a little bit evil given that we crate her at night, to put her right back in during the day if I have to leave.
3. What are your thoughts on dog parks? She gets really excited when she sees other dogs and wants to play, but I'm not sure she realized that not all other dogs are excited to see her. What's the best way to socialize her? What's the best way to take her to a dog park. I really feel that she would benefit from some off leash exercise, but her "come" is not so great that I could do this in a non-enclosed area. So a dog park is really the only alternative.
4. Her new favorite game is to turn over her food bowl and then chase the pellets around the dining room floor, eating them that way. I find this game very annoying and have been tempted to simply throw all the food away when she does this. However my suspicion is that she wouldn't make the connection between her behavior and losing her food. Thoughts on how to prevent her from doing this?
Thanks for your suggestions in advance! The Kong toy suggestion has been very helpful.
AHHHHHHHH!!!!!!
And now, some questions:
1. We are getting better at walking on a loose (but short) leash. However, we are still having problems with getting the dog to walk next to or behind me -- she is usually a step or two in front. She is much more relaxed on our walks though. Is this something that can be a work in progress, or am I hopelessly screwed because I am settling for a loose leash rather than a walk behind me on a loose leash right now? I fear we wouldn't get more than 10 feet or so if I insisted on both for now.
2. I have started leaving her during the day for a few hours. This is all a prelude to the return to normal life in which I have classes and responsibilitiesTM. She doesn't seem anxious when I come home, and only gets into things a little. Today she destroyed my husband's The Clash cd and a pen, but nothing else. Should we re-crate her? It just seems a little bit evil given that we crate her at night, to put her right back in during the day if I have to leave.
3. What are your thoughts on dog parks? She gets really excited when she sees other dogs and wants to play, but I'm not sure she realized that not all other dogs are excited to see her. What's the best way to socialize her? What's the best way to take her to a dog park. I really feel that she would benefit from some off leash exercise, but her "come" is not so great that I could do this in a non-enclosed area. So a dog park is really the only alternative.
4. Her new favorite game is to turn over her food bowl and then chase the pellets around the dining room floor, eating them that way. I find this game very annoying and have been tempted to simply throw all the food away when she does this. However my suspicion is that she wouldn't make the connection between her behavior and losing her food. Thoughts on how to prevent her from doing this?
Thanks for your suggestions in advance! The Kong toy suggestion has been very helpful.
Monday, January 04, 2010
Decade in Review
Maha had a great post the other day about all the things that happened to her in the last decade that have brought her to where she is now. I am now copying her.
My last decade started off with a whole lot of suck and gradually improved to where I am now.
I brought in 2000 by.... I really don't remember, actually. Probably sitting on my parent's couch in CT feeling sorry for myself because I didn't have any plans. I was single, and not very happy about it. I hated my job, which paid the bills and taught me a lot, and didn't know what I wanted to do instead. I was beginning to think, "Really? This is what being an adult is like? This SUCKS. I think I would really prefer to be dead. And I really wish people would stop telling me that 'I should get used to it,' because that's really depressing." After having friends and being reasonably well liked in college I had deluded myself into thinking that I was "normal" and could blend in with the MBA crowd that I worked with. Wrongo! By the end of that year I had ditched the job for one that turned out to be better in some ways and worse in others, and had acquired a boyfriend who I didn't love AT ALL because I needed someone and felt like that there was nobody else out there.
2001 was marked by my stint as a buyer at the Industrial Supply Company from Hell followed by a short period of awesomeness where I worked on "special projects." The bf broke his collarbone and went to Syria for some archaeology thing he was doing, and was furious at me for MONTHS because I wouldn't have sex with him in the car at the airport -- broken collarbone and all -- before he took off. In retrospect it's probably not an accident that the only time work went well for me at that company was during the 4 months that he was away. I did 3 triathlons that summer because the bf was into that sort of thing. I was still no closer to deciding what I wanted to do with my life.
2002 was the worst year of my life (runner up = 1990, the year my horse died, I almost got expelled from school, and then the replacement horse broke her leg). I was promoted to supervisor and was working in the shipping department in the warehouse. I loved taking care of my employees. It was also the year I wrote a (false) bad performance about one of my employees because my manager told me to which probably led to him getting fired later. I was moved sideways to the receiving department after 6 months and started taking a psychology class at Northwestern on Saturdays, which I LOVED. It was during the Fall of this year that I really started to think I should go back to grad school. My mother had the first of her craniotomies and couldn't talk to me on the phone for months, but I was so in my own little world of misery that it barely registered. Oh yeah, I also did 6 triathlons including a half-ironman, and moved in with the awful bf. *FACEPALM* WHAT WAS I THINKING!??!?
In January 2003 I was fired from the Industrial Supply Company from Hell. Why? Because that's what they did. But! I got 4 months of severance pay and negotiated for them to pay for the psychology classes I had registered for that spring. And after a bunch of interviews for more entry level positions designed for recent college grads that made me feel queasy inside, I finally found my dream job as a project manager back at the U of C for a 50% paycut. I did three triathlons that summer, and finished the last one with a piece of glass embedded in my foot. I moved out of the apartment the boat-anchor bf and I shared and finally he dumped me after I yelled at him after he abandoned me in Hyde Park with a bleeding foot after my surgery when I needed to see the doctor ASAP. And that fall I started taking the biology sequence for pre-meds, just to see if I liked it and could cut it.
2004 led to more biology and dating a bunch of guys that left me feeling meh about the whole thing. I took Physics over the Summer, and I had to re-learn how to take derivatives and integrals. I met Luca swimming and thought he was hot, but didn't start dating him until October. Did my last triathlon that summer, completing it a mere 10 minutes slower than usual even though I had only trained for it during the month leading up to it. Started Ochem, which was totally terrifying, but I loved. Dated Luca. Fell in love. Knew he was the one almost immediately.
2005 Finished Ochem. Took last Physics test. Moved in with Luca. Took the MCAT in August, which was so stressful! And was told by one of the pre-med advisors that I would never get into med school applying this late and that I should wait another year. Went to Italy after the MCAT for two weeks that August/September and met Luca's family. Took Biochem that fall, and applied to med school in the most disorganized way possible. Had my first med school interview at the University of Rochester on December 16th. I started this blog.
2006 I spent jetting around the east coast interview hopping. In February I interviewed at my med school and hated it. Vowed not to come here. Got in despite it all, and was my best offer so I decided to take it after all. Luca turned down a job offer in Italy to stay in the US with me, and started looking for a job in the US. We went to Hawaii for one of his interviews and got to stay in this beautiful hotel with a semi-private beach right next to Diamondhead. Won an award at a national meeting for a side project I did for my PI. Had a marvelously relaxing spring and summer doing nothing besides my job and playing house with Luca. Moved to Philadelphia, started my MD-PhD program. Couldn't believe I was there and felt periodically that they must have made an enormous mistake in accepting me. Luca found a job near Philadelphia (thank you God!) that required that he have a special visa/green card. We got married on November 22, the day before Thanksgiving, cutting anatomy lab so that we could tie the knot. Worked my butt off that first semester.
2007 was more med school. Luca moved to Philadelphia the day after my MDTI exam. My first summer break in 8 years. Still couldn't believe that I was here. Felt out of place in my PhD department since I was the first MD-PhD they had had in years. Worked my tail off. Started meeting people in my class who I liked and could relate to.
2008 I spent in the clinics. Loved Psychiatry, Neurology, Surgery. Would have loved Medicine were it not for.... well, we'll just leave it at that. Things still going well with Luca, though I feel bad that he is neglected. He drove me to my Neurosurgery rotation every morning at 5:20 for two weeks (and to the hospital on countless other mornings as well, AND picked me up from call on countless nights), made me dinner and food to take with me to the hospital on the rotations where I was on nightfloat. Kept the apartment clean. Finally exhaled in December after going at a full sprint for the whole year.
2009 Took my boards. Did a few elective rotations, but only really liked the inpatient side of Heme-Onc, Neurology, and LOVED my medicine sub-i. I loved having real responsibility, and that I felt like I really knew my patients. Made recommendations about care that people actually listened to(!). Started my PhD. Had issues with funding, breaking away from the clinics, and sitting in a classroom once again. Bought a house! Got a dog! Had an amazingly relaxing vacation in Italy (Cortina!) with Luca. Played more house with Luca. Decided what I wanted to do my thesis on. Picked a mentor. Realized all the possibilities that were open to me with the program that I was doing. Realized that all my options are good ones. I can be a doctor (probably a Neurologist, possibly a Psychiatrist), researcher, work for a company or the government, do all of the above! Looking back, I sometimes still can't believe that I'm here knowing where I was 10 years ago...
****
Thank you Maha for inspiring me to write this. When you write it down it makes it all the more clear all the things that have changed in the past decade. Please karma gods, make the next decade just as great! As the last 5 years, I mean.
My last decade started off with a whole lot of suck and gradually improved to where I am now.
I brought in 2000 by.... I really don't remember, actually. Probably sitting on my parent's couch in CT feeling sorry for myself because I didn't have any plans. I was single, and not very happy about it. I hated my job, which paid the bills and taught me a lot, and didn't know what I wanted to do instead. I was beginning to think, "Really? This is what being an adult is like? This SUCKS. I think I would really prefer to be dead. And I really wish people would stop telling me that 'I should get used to it,' because that's really depressing." After having friends and being reasonably well liked in college I had deluded myself into thinking that I was "normal" and could blend in with the MBA crowd that I worked with. Wrongo! By the end of that year I had ditched the job for one that turned out to be better in some ways and worse in others, and had acquired a boyfriend who I didn't love AT ALL because I needed someone and felt like that there was nobody else out there.
2001 was marked by my stint as a buyer at the Industrial Supply Company from Hell followed by a short period of awesomeness where I worked on "special projects." The bf broke his collarbone and went to Syria for some archaeology thing he was doing, and was furious at me for MONTHS because I wouldn't have sex with him in the car at the airport -- broken collarbone and all -- before he took off. In retrospect it's probably not an accident that the only time work went well for me at that company was during the 4 months that he was away. I did 3 triathlons that summer because the bf was into that sort of thing. I was still no closer to deciding what I wanted to do with my life.
2002 was the worst year of my life (runner up = 1990, the year my horse died, I almost got expelled from school, and then the replacement horse broke her leg). I was promoted to supervisor and was working in the shipping department in the warehouse. I loved taking care of my employees. It was also the year I wrote a (false) bad performance about one of my employees because my manager told me to which probably led to him getting fired later. I was moved sideways to the receiving department after 6 months and started taking a psychology class at Northwestern on Saturdays, which I LOVED. It was during the Fall of this year that I really started to think I should go back to grad school. My mother had the first of her craniotomies and couldn't talk to me on the phone for months, but I was so in my own little world of misery that it barely registered. Oh yeah, I also did 6 triathlons including a half-ironman, and moved in with the awful bf. *FACEPALM* WHAT WAS I THINKING!??!?
In January 2003 I was fired from the Industrial Supply Company from Hell. Why? Because that's what they did. But! I got 4 months of severance pay and negotiated for them to pay for the psychology classes I had registered for that spring. And after a bunch of interviews for more entry level positions designed for recent college grads that made me feel queasy inside, I finally found my dream job as a project manager back at the U of C for a 50% paycut. I did three triathlons that summer, and finished the last one with a piece of glass embedded in my foot. I moved out of the apartment the boat-anchor bf and I shared and finally he dumped me after I yelled at him after he abandoned me in Hyde Park with a bleeding foot after my surgery when I needed to see the doctor ASAP. And that fall I started taking the biology sequence for pre-meds, just to see if I liked it and could cut it.
2004 led to more biology and dating a bunch of guys that left me feeling meh about the whole thing. I took Physics over the Summer, and I had to re-learn how to take derivatives and integrals. I met Luca swimming and thought he was hot, but didn't start dating him until October. Did my last triathlon that summer, completing it a mere 10 minutes slower than usual even though I had only trained for it during the month leading up to it. Started Ochem, which was totally terrifying, but I loved. Dated Luca. Fell in love. Knew he was the one almost immediately.
2005 Finished Ochem. Took last Physics test. Moved in with Luca. Took the MCAT in August, which was so stressful! And was told by one of the pre-med advisors that I would never get into med school applying this late and that I should wait another year. Went to Italy after the MCAT for two weeks that August/September and met Luca's family. Took Biochem that fall, and applied to med school in the most disorganized way possible. Had my first med school interview at the University of Rochester on December 16th. I started this blog.
2006 I spent jetting around the east coast interview hopping. In February I interviewed at my med school and hated it. Vowed not to come here. Got in despite it all, and was my best offer so I decided to take it after all. Luca turned down a job offer in Italy to stay in the US with me, and started looking for a job in the US. We went to Hawaii for one of his interviews and got to stay in this beautiful hotel with a semi-private beach right next to Diamondhead. Won an award at a national meeting for a side project I did for my PI. Had a marvelously relaxing spring and summer doing nothing besides my job and playing house with Luca. Moved to Philadelphia, started my MD-PhD program. Couldn't believe I was there and felt periodically that they must have made an enormous mistake in accepting me. Luca found a job near Philadelphia (thank you God!) that required that he have a special visa/green card. We got married on November 22, the day before Thanksgiving, cutting anatomy lab so that we could tie the knot. Worked my butt off that first semester.
2007 was more med school. Luca moved to Philadelphia the day after my MDTI exam. My first summer break in 8 years. Still couldn't believe that I was here. Felt out of place in my PhD department since I was the first MD-PhD they had had in years. Worked my tail off. Started meeting people in my class who I liked and could relate to.
2008 I spent in the clinics. Loved Psychiatry, Neurology, Surgery. Would have loved Medicine were it not for.... well, we'll just leave it at that. Things still going well with Luca, though I feel bad that he is neglected. He drove me to my Neurosurgery rotation every morning at 5:20 for two weeks (and to the hospital on countless other mornings as well, AND picked me up from call on countless nights), made me dinner and food to take with me to the hospital on the rotations where I was on nightfloat. Kept the apartment clean. Finally exhaled in December after going at a full sprint for the whole year.
2009 Took my boards. Did a few elective rotations, but only really liked the inpatient side of Heme-Onc, Neurology, and LOVED my medicine sub-i. I loved having real responsibility, and that I felt like I really knew my patients. Made recommendations about care that people actually listened to(!). Started my PhD. Had issues with funding, breaking away from the clinics, and sitting in a classroom once again. Bought a house! Got a dog! Had an amazingly relaxing vacation in Italy (Cortina!) with Luca. Played more house with Luca. Decided what I wanted to do my thesis on. Picked a mentor. Realized all the possibilities that were open to me with the program that I was doing. Realized that all my options are good ones. I can be a doctor (probably a Neurologist, possibly a Psychiatrist), researcher, work for a company or the government, do all of the above! Looking back, I sometimes still can't believe that I'm here knowing where I was 10 years ago...
****
Thank you Maha for inspiring me to write this. When you write it down it makes it all the more clear all the things that have changed in the past decade. Please karma gods, make the next decade just as great! As the last 5 years, I mean.
Sunday, January 03, 2010
New Year's Resolutions
Not mine this time. Other peoples'.
Luca and I were stupid enough to try swimming at Villanova this morning, and there were about 3x the usual number of people present.
Which would have been fine. In fact, it probably was fine for Luca since he is a very fast swimmer, and thus only people WHO KNOW WHAT THEY ARE DOING are able to swim in his lane.
And by "know what they're doing" I mean people who know that:
a) if you hit the feet of the people in front of you, it means that the person in front needs to let you pass.
b) how to do a flip turn (Seriously?).
c) there is a workout, and that if they don't want to do it, then they need to yield to the people who do.
d) if you pass someone, it is generally considered poor form to slow down by 50% afterwards.
Now, I know I'm not the best swimmer in the world, but I do know how to stay out of the way of people who are faster than me. How to work together with other people so that we *all* can have a nice workout.
Unfortunately, I also happen to swim the same speed (roughly) as the middle age crisis male triathlete* types. Who almost uniformly have very very fragile egos (or maybe they're just assholes), and don't enjoy appreciate told how to swim in a group by some little girl.
If only I could be 10 seconds per 100 faster! Alas, it's never going to happen.
So, we are never going back. At least not for a few months until these douchebags give up their swimming resolution or need to ride their bikes for 100 miles on the weekends instead.
*I know this because they are wearing jammers. No self respecting swimmer would ever wear these.
Luca and I were stupid enough to try swimming at Villanova this morning, and there were about 3x the usual number of people present.
Which would have been fine. In fact, it probably was fine for Luca since he is a very fast swimmer, and thus only people WHO KNOW WHAT THEY ARE DOING are able to swim in his lane.
And by "know what they're doing" I mean people who know that:
a) if you hit the feet of the people in front of you, it means that the person in front needs to let you pass.
b) how to do a flip turn (Seriously?).
c) there is a workout, and that if they don't want to do it, then they need to yield to the people who do.
d) if you pass someone, it is generally considered poor form to slow down by 50% afterwards.
Now, I know I'm not the best swimmer in the world, but I do know how to stay out of the way of people who are faster than me. How to work together with other people so that we *all* can have a nice workout.
Unfortunately, I also happen to swim the same speed (roughly) as the middle age crisis male triathlete* types. Who almost uniformly have very very fragile egos (or maybe they're just assholes), and don't enjoy appreciate told how to swim in a group by some little girl.
If only I could be 10 seconds per 100 faster! Alas, it's never going to happen.
So, we are never going back. At least not for a few months until these douchebags give up their swimming resolution or need to ride their bikes for 100 miles on the weekends instead.
*I know this because they are wearing jammers. No self respecting swimmer would ever wear these.
Saturday, January 02, 2010
OCD
"How did this happen??" My husband says as he gazes with despair around the living room that is strewn with dog toys, blankets, and beds.
Pieces of fluff that have been ripped out of the plush toys as Boo has disemboweled them.
Rubber from the tennis ball she destroyed within 5 minutes of receiving it.
Fragments of the rawhide bone that were left uneaten as she devoured her way through that as well.
She peed on a $14 entry rug we bought at Home Depot this afternoon within 5 minutes of placing by the doorway.
"Were you even WATCHING her??" He wants to know.
I have to say that having a dog has been EXCELLENT for his OCD. And certainly a well timed prelude to having a baby. If he can't even take the clutter that has resulted from our dog, just imagine the nervous breakdown he's going to have witha bouncing bundle of joy whatever heathen baby springs forth from our loins.
Hahahahahahaha!!!! (My poor poor OCD husband.) Hahahahahaha!!!!
And to think that he thought that the dog was going to make ME not want to have any children.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!
Pieces of fluff that have been ripped out of the plush toys as Boo has disemboweled them.
Rubber from the tennis ball she destroyed within 5 minutes of receiving it.
Fragments of the rawhide bone that were left uneaten as she devoured her way through that as well.
She peed on a $14 entry rug we bought at Home Depot this afternoon within 5 minutes of placing by the doorway.
"Were you even WATCHING her??" He wants to know.
I have to say that having a dog has been EXCELLENT for his OCD. And certainly a well timed prelude to having a baby. If he can't even take the clutter that has resulted from our dog, just imagine the nervous breakdown he's going to have with
Hahahahahahaha!!!! (My poor poor OCD husband.) Hahahahahaha!!!!
And to think that he thought that the dog was going to make ME not want to have any children.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!
The quick and dirty way to get a paper done
Ok, sorry guys. There is no quick and dirty way. A friend of mine was telling me the other day that her mentor had handed her a manuscript that had been rejected with the criticism that, "It looked like a med student had written it," and had said, "Fix it."
$5 says the attending had never even read it before it had been submitted in the first place.
Anyway, my friend didn't know where to begin, so I provided some suggestions. And now I provide them to you. Feel free to add your own in the comments. Somehow I don't think this type of thing is a rare occurrence.
1. Look at the grant (if there is one). What did the authors want to show?
2. Look at the figures that were presented in the original manuscript. What is YOUR interpretation of the data. Does it match what was proposed in the grant? Is it different? Sloppily presented? Unclear? Ambiguous? Fix your tables and figures first.
3. Rewrite your data section with these new tables and figures.
4. Write the methods section based on the analysis you just did. Incorporate this into the methods that were already written about how the data was collected, how the study was run, etc.
5. Write your discussion section. First paragraph of this section should state your results in as simple terms as possible. Middle section = What are the ramifications of your results. Don't forget your limitations. Last para, restate results, main points, and directions for future research.
6. Write the intro. Intro paragraph is about why this is important. Last sentence of this paragraph is the hypothesis you are testing. Subsequent paragraphs provide a little background on each of the points you made in para #1. Finally, repeat your hypothesis at the end of your intro.
Now read the whole product. How does it hang together? Does it make sense?
Re-write. Re-read.
7. Now, add citations. Look up what your PI has done and cite him/her like crazy. Look at his/her papers. Who have they cited in the past? Use those references in this paper.
8. Read your PI's papers and make sure that what you have just written does not contradict what they have done before. Or if it does, make it hang together in a way that makes it look like that's what they really thought they would find.
9. Re-weave your paper around the themes that came out of your PI's work.
10. Don't forget the basics of good writing! You did remember to start your paragraphs with topic sentences, right?
Re-peruse. Pass to PI. Be prepared for a few rounds of revisions. Patience is a virtue. Be prepared for them to insist that you do additional analyses that make no sense, and then to tell you how stupid you are for wasting your time with such foolish anaylses at your next meeting.
Repeat.
Submit.
Cross your fingers and pray.
Request letter of reference from PI before revise and resubmit/rejection letter comes. (Just kidding!)
Move on to next phase of life.
Enjoy!
$5 says the attending had never even read it before it had been submitted in the first place.
Anyway, my friend didn't know where to begin, so I provided some suggestions. And now I provide them to you. Feel free to add your own in the comments. Somehow I don't think this type of thing is a rare occurrence.
1. Look at the grant (if there is one). What did the authors want to show?
2. Look at the figures that were presented in the original manuscript. What is YOUR interpretation of the data. Does it match what was proposed in the grant? Is it different? Sloppily presented? Unclear? Ambiguous? Fix your tables and figures first.
3. Rewrite your data section with these new tables and figures.
4. Write the methods section based on the analysis you just did. Incorporate this into the methods that were already written about how the data was collected, how the study was run, etc.
5. Write your discussion section. First paragraph of this section should state your results in as simple terms as possible. Middle section = What are the ramifications of your results. Don't forget your limitations. Last para, restate results, main points, and directions for future research.
6. Write the intro. Intro paragraph is about why this is important. Last sentence of this paragraph is the hypothesis you are testing. Subsequent paragraphs provide a little background on each of the points you made in para #1. Finally, repeat your hypothesis at the end of your intro.
Now read the whole product. How does it hang together? Does it make sense?
Re-write. Re-read.
7. Now, add citations. Look up what your PI has done and cite him/her like crazy. Look at his/her papers. Who have they cited in the past? Use those references in this paper.
8. Read your PI's papers and make sure that what you have just written does not contradict what they have done before. Or if it does, make it hang together in a way that makes it look like that's what they really thought they would find.
9. Re-weave your paper around the themes that came out of your PI's work.
10. Don't forget the basics of good writing! You did remember to start your paragraphs with topic sentences, right?
Re-peruse. Pass to PI. Be prepared for a few rounds of revisions. Patience is a virtue. Be prepared for them to insist that you do additional analyses that make no sense, and then to tell you how stupid you are for wasting your time with such foolish anaylses at your next meeting.
Repeat.
Submit.
Cross your fingers and pray.
Request letter of reference from PI before revise and resubmit/rejection letter comes. (Just kidding!)
Move on to next phase of life.
Enjoy!
Former
I just emailed my former mentor with the revisions on a paper he recently started nagging requesting that I complete ASAP (during exams). Anybody want to wager on how long he will take to respond? Please complete the poll over yonder.
FU Bill Gates
I am so lucky that Microsoft knows exactly what *I* want when I am working playing merrily on my computer.
Like when I hit the "Enter" button and Microsoft Word decides that I *really* wanted to create a bulleted list. Repeatedly. Even after I turn that function off.
Or when I highlight some text, and it tells me, "No no silly. You didn't want *that* text, you wanted the whole line above it.
Or when I create a subform in Access, specifying the size and everything, and it tells me, "Silly girl, you really wanted to cover up all your other tables, didn't you?"
Or when I try to delete a variable in an Access Table, and the program gently reminds me that despite the fact that the variable is no long in my subform, any queries, relationship diagrams, or tables, that NO I CANNOT DELETE IT. Because something invisible is using the variable for no purpose other than to generate error messages.
Aren't you grateful that Microsoft can read your mind? 'Cause I sure am. I'm WAAAAAAYYYYYY to dumb to know what I really want my documents to look like. Isn't everybody?
Like when I hit the "Enter" button and Microsoft Word decides that I *really* wanted to create a bulleted list. Repeatedly. Even after I turn that function off.
Or when I highlight some text, and it tells me, "No no silly. You didn't want *that* text, you wanted the whole line above it.
Or when I create a subform in Access, specifying the size and everything, and it tells me, "Silly girl, you really wanted to cover up all your other tables, didn't you?"
Or when I try to delete a variable in an Access Table, and the program gently reminds me that despite the fact that the variable is no long in my subform, any queries, relationship diagrams, or tables, that NO I CANNOT DELETE IT. Because something invisible is using the variable for no purpose other than to generate error messages.
Aren't you grateful that Microsoft can read your mind? 'Cause I sure am. I'm WAAAAAAYYYYYY to dumb to know what I really want my documents to look like. Isn't everybody?
Friday, January 01, 2010
Perspective
I inherited a pedometer from my parents when I visited them over Christmas. Why? I want to measure how much I'm walking. Hence the resolution to walk more.
I ran into a girl in the locker room the other week who was wearing a pedometer, and I asked her about it. Turns out she's part of a walking club. I looked at their site and it gave me some suggested goals:
Level 1: 2 hours per week or 6-8 miles
Level 2: 3 hours per week or 9-12 miles
Level 3: 3.75 hours per week or 12-15 miles
Let me provide a little perspective. I live 1.25 miles from school, and I walk there and back most days of the week. That alone is about 12 miles.
Now that I have a dog I try to walk her for at least 60 minutes a day (Luca takes her for walks too). I was thinking, how cool would it be if I could walk 30 miles in a week? Is that totally nuts? Maybe if I could do it just once this next month....
I know it sounds like a lot, but I feel so much better when I'm in shape, and I really have gotten sick of running. And the miles just start to add up if you can do a little every day.
Thinking about this walking stuff kind of reminded me of the time when the irritating nurse practitioner at student health lectured me about not drinking enough milk when I told her that I usually have one large glass per day. She wanted me to drink three of them (at least). I think she was semi-oblivious to the fact that that would have been close to a half gallon per day.
Putting thoughts of irritation out of my head now. It's a beautiful day after all!
Anyway.
Mini-tangent alert: When we were at my parents' house Boo slept in her crate in my room, and I needed to use earplugs, she snored so loud. I feel a little evil keeping her crated in the dining room at our house during the night now, but it's the only way we can all sleep!
So on our (3.5 mile) walk this morning, Luca and I ran into the vet student who spayed Boo. She was really nice, and told us that Boo snored while she was under anesthesia as well during her spay surgery. It was so loud that at first they thought she was growling. But no. She just snores really loudly. In fact she's doing it right now. I think we FINALLY wore her out.
HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYBODY!!!
I ran into a girl in the locker room the other week who was wearing a pedometer, and I asked her about it. Turns out she's part of a walking club. I looked at their site and it gave me some suggested goals:
Level 1: 2 hours per week or 6-8 miles
Level 2: 3 hours per week or 9-12 miles
Level 3: 3.75 hours per week or 12-15 miles
Let me provide a little perspective. I live 1.25 miles from school, and I walk there and back most days of the week. That alone is about 12 miles.
Now that I have a dog I try to walk her for at least 60 minutes a day (Luca takes her for walks too). I was thinking, how cool would it be if I could walk 30 miles in a week? Is that totally nuts? Maybe if I could do it just once this next month....
I know it sounds like a lot, but I feel so much better when I'm in shape, and I really have gotten sick of running. And the miles just start to add up if you can do a little every day.
Thinking about this walking stuff kind of reminded me of the time when the irritating nurse practitioner at student health lectured me about not drinking enough milk when I told her that I usually have one large glass per day. She wanted me to drink three of them (at least). I think she was semi-oblivious to the fact that that would have been close to a half gallon per day.
Putting thoughts of irritation out of my head now. It's a beautiful day after all!
Anyway.
Mini-tangent alert: When we were at my parents' house Boo slept in her crate in my room, and I needed to use earplugs, she snored so loud. I feel a little evil keeping her crated in the dining room at our house during the night now, but it's the only way we can all sleep!
So on our (3.5 mile) walk this morning, Luca and I ran into the vet student who spayed Boo. She was really nice, and told us that Boo snored while she was under anesthesia as well during her spay surgery. It was so loud that at first they thought she was growling. But no. She just snores really loudly. In fact she's doing it right now. I think we FINALLY wore her out.
HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYBODY!!!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)