Today is a good day

This morning, I received an email from my mentor. He FINALLY conceded that we weren't going to be able to finish the paper until after the 3/1 call for papers deadline. And while on one hand it sort of sucks that I will have to keep working on this godforsaken thing for another week or so (hopefully only), AT LEAST I can study for my exams this week unfettered.

I don't feel the least bit bad about it either.

He gave me 5 additional complicated analyses to complete. And you know, they are all really valid, interesting analyses that will add a lot to the manuscript. There's a reason he's as good as he is. But they are time consuming. Too time consuming to be completed before Tuesday at any rate.

Of course one of these involves changing one of my outcome variables. While I understand the rationale for the change, this underscores the importance of actually MEETING with your PI to talk about your work during the process of producing it. And we haven't met in oh.... a month (of course, this is probably why we're getting along better.... but I digress) due to him being away/on service all this time -- totally not his fault. Of course, who's to say that this change wouldn't have occurred to him at the last minute anyway, so I'm not really grousing about this too much.

The main reason we're not going to be able to submit Tuesday however, is that one of these analyses is a multilevel hierarchical model x3 (and perhaps x9) models. On the dataset we're using, this will take, oh, about 3 days to run. Per model. I can run 3 models at once, but still, we're talking a minimum of 3 days for the first set of models alone.

And I have to say, while it's irritating that I now have to run these time consuming models, it's incredibly awesome that I effectively CAN'T use my computer to conduct any more analyses during this time. This essentially gives me protected time to study (which I should be doing now instead of writing this blog post).

So while on one hand -- We can't submit today, and I'll still have this damn thing hanging over my head, darn. On the other hand -- Now I have the chance to take my time on it (a little) and really do a good job. And also have time to study so that I can pass my exams.

Because of all this, I had the time to do my weekly swim after class today as well.

So, Yay!

Today is a good day.

Semester

Univ of Chicago was on a quarter system, and while it was intense, it was soooooooo much better than these GD semesters. I'm already 7 weeks in, and I'm only 1/2 done, for goodness sake! In a quarter-system class, we'd be getting ready to wrap things up. In medical school it was even better. I don't think a single one of our blocks was longer than 5 or 6 weeks. That way if you hated something, it would be over fast.

I was looking at the syllabus for one of my classes, and we have 28 lectures per semester. Ugh. It's obscene.

I have Spring break starting in a week, where I will try to catch up on all the things that I have been putting off in order to finish this damn paper, and then it will be back to the same old grind for another 7 weeks. I guess the silver lining is that after this semester I should be mostly done with class for good. I'll still take a stats class here or there, but other than that, just dissertation work. I CAN'T WAIT. I am so tired of exams and bullshit final projects that have no relevance for my work overall.

And this week is really going to suck. Yay midterms! I haven't had a day off in over a month, and have been working 12-14 hours most days for the past 3 weeks (yesterday I only worked 8 hours -- woohoo!), trying to get this manuscript out by Tuesday.

Oh, and if you want to tell me that YOU are working harder at your job or with your kids -- guess what, I don't care. I'm not interested in getting into a martyrdom contest with some overachieving competiti-freak medical professional.

That is all. Now back to work.

What about after?

I got an email from a reader asking me two things:

1) How much time do I spend with my husband?
2) How are we going to manage things after graduation?

The answer to 1 is simple: During med school we saw each other for about 1 hr/day. A bit more on weekends. The difficult part is wanting to hang out with him but not being able to because I have to study or work. Sometimes we saw each other less, say when I had to be in the hospital over night. Occasionally we saw each other more. He has a time consuming job too, and this is part of why.

The answer to 2 is: I DON'T WANT TO THINK ABOUT THIS. We still have three years before this will be an issue. His job is going really well, and if that continues, staying in Philadelphia would be a bigger priority. However, since he is in the private sector, who knows how things will be three years from now. As he says, he has the job security of a leaf blowing on a tree.

If things really go to hell at his job, then I will open my residency search up to the whole country. Then he can find a job where I move.

If they are still going reasonably well at his job, we will have a couple of options. 1) I can try to stay in Philly. 2) I can try to get a residency in a city where his company has a branch (NC, NYC, Boston, NJ, for instance). 3) I can try to stay NEAR Philly (NYC, Baltimore, NJ, Delaware).

A lot will depend on if we reproduce. He's going to be like a single parent anyway while I'm a resident, but if I move to another city, he actually will be a single parent while I'm a resident. I don't want to do that to him. (Plus don't tell him, I actually like having him around!)

Also, I'm not crazy about the idea of moving someplace more expensive than where we live now. Particularly with a kid. And a pit bull (mix). That pretty much rules out NYC and Boston.

So the short answer is I don't really know what we're going to do. More than 1/3 of my class tends to match at my institution, and I'm not planning on going into an uber-competitive field, so that will probably help.

We'll just have to see where we are when the time comes.

Not available

If you're on duty in the hospital, you a) have no time, and b) cannot just leave to do errands. It's interesting to me the number of non-medical people who simply do not understand this.

I remember when I was buying my house, we ended up closing (of course) right in the middle of my Medicine sub-i. My real estate agent kept asking me whether I couldn't just [insert time consuming errand here] during the day or evening, and despite repeatedly telling her that I could not and why, she kept at it.

I tried to get as much done before that rotation started as possible. But there were two problems. 1) Some things you simply CAN'T do ahead of time when closing on a house, and 2) our agent occasionally couldn't be bothered to do things ahead of time for us. I recall telling her that I really would not be available and that we needed to get everything done in advance, and she just wouldn't get back to us. Perhaps somethings she couldn't expedite for us, but on other things, I couldn't help but feel that if she'd really believed that I wouldn't be available, she would have done her best help us out.

We did a power of attorney so that Luca could do the closing without me. Still, there were some things that he couldn't do, like withdraw money from my checking account. And then of course the bank f-ed up a transfer to some account to pay for the downpayment. When our agent suggested that I just go to the bank on Monday and everything would be fine, I screeched at her that NO I COULD NOT JUST LEAVE THE HOSPITAL IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DAY TO TAKE CARE OF IT AT THE BANK. I was on call that day. It was seriously the last straw. I was really really livid.

She accused me of being drunk. As a result, I will never ever recommend her to anyone I know to buy a house. She simply didn't believe that I couldn't -- if I really wanted -- just leave work at the drop of a hat to take care of things.

(Fortunately in this case there was a bank branch within walking distance of the hospital, and because I had the most understanding, amazing resident ever, I was able to give him my pager for 30 minutes and run over there. If it had been ANYONE else, I'm sure it would have been a problem to ask.)

Anyhow, point is, some people just don't get it, no matter what you do to try to tell them. I'm sure there are other professions as well where this is the case, but it would be so much easier if the rest of the world would actually believe us when we said NO, and not try to convince us that we could really just leave work and take care of things if only we'd stop being so inflexible.

Spring is a-comin'!

It's still February, but the other day, I saw some of my tulips beginning to peek out of the ground. It may be rainy and gross out today, but Spring is almost here!

Neurosurgery

I ran into a classmate over lunch. He took a year off to do research, and is getting ready to match in Neurosurgery.

Now, I have to say, I loved my 2 weeks on Neurosurgery, but I would never go into it. I saw some really cool stuff, and I felt like they "got" me in that department, but the lifestyle is just.... N.O.

But I've wondered since, if the general consensus seems to be that neurosurgeons are assholes, and I liked that rotation.... maybe that means I'm one too? I am definitely type A -- I know this. While I was on that rotation, I would come home and order Luca around like people in Neurosurg order each other around in the hospital. Fortunately this behavior vanished as soon as the rotation was over, however.

Anyway, my friend is a really lovely person. Not a mean bitch like me. Smart, kind, most definitively NOT an asshole. Not mean. Not a "typical" surgeon. It was weird to see him after almost a year. I guess he's been around doing his own research, but as with all things science, one tends to get cloistered in ones own ivory tower doing one's own thing.

So I said what any normal person would have said, "So, are you looking forward to destroying the next seven years of your life?"

Gah! What was I thinking? Fortunately, he has a sense of humor. I told him he was too nice to be a neurosurgeon. He said, "Well, maybe they'll make me mean."

Maybe indeed.

I doubt it.

It was weird seeing him. There were a couple of other people from my class there, and I suddenly felt a little nostalgic for my med school days when I saw them on a regular basis. I know! Who would ever have thought *I* of all people, the most curmudgeonly person on the planet, would feel that way.

Anyway, my friend is going to be a wonderful neurosurgeon. I guess on the plus side, he'll probably be one of my few classmates who will be done with residency at about the same time that I finish! Haha.

And so another cohort of my classmates moves on and graduates. Leaving me behind to slave away at my dissertation.

At least I've been liking what I do lately. There's that anyway. It's GOT to be better than being a resident.

Miss. Boohaving

Miss. Boo graduated from Basic Agility Skills 2 on Monday night. She was the best jumper in the class, and while not the most obedient or under control, probably the second best dog in the class in terms of her mastery of the skills.

However, before we will be permitted to move on to the next stages (handling skills, contacts and weaves, sequencing, etc.) we will be required to take Control Unleashed.

The instructor took great pains to tell us how important this class is for us, and that Boo will benefit so much from it. This lasted for about 5 minutes.

Then we told her she was already signed up.

So, we will be taking Control Unleashed, starting on 3/14.

She's already improved so much with her control off leash around other dogs, and her reliability in class, I'm really excited to see how much some training that actually focuses on impulse control and attention will help her improve.

But yes, we were like, WE GET IT, she runs around, this is bad. YES we're taking the damn class! Sheesh.

So there it is.

Quite frankly, I don't give a crap if he learns my name

There's something about the business school and name tags. I'm taking two classes over there this semester, and both require that students bring their name tags to class, and display them prominently on their desks in front of them.

In one class, it's not such a big deal. I'm taking it as an independent study, and the professor knows who I am. If people forget to bring their name tags, the world doesn't come to an end.

Not so in the other class.

We're 6 weeks into class now, and in the other class, the professor still drones on at the beginning of every class about how important it is to bring the name tag to class. And in class, if a student raises his/her hand and doesn't have his/her name tag, he will give them the 3rd degree about, "Why don't you have their name tag? Did you forget? Where IS the name tag? You know, it's really important that you bring it to class."

It probably shouldn't irritate me as much as it does. But, well, it does.

The other day my name tag fell over and I didn't notice, and he started to chide me for not bringing it before I put it back up.

I think it's partly the way he chides the students for not bringing the name tag, in addition to the fact that he does it at all. He does it in this, "Were you a bad boy?" voice, like we're toddlers who are being scolded for hitting our little brothers. I suppose it should come as no surprise that he is a pediatrician.*

I wonder if he talks to his wife like that.

One student just stopped bringing his name tag to class entirely. He still raises his hand on occasion and gets the 3rd degree each time, but it doesn't seem to phase him. I wonder if he lost it, or if he is tacitly telling the professor F-U.

I think it's the latter.

He is my hero.

I decided this wasn't a battle worth fighting, so I bring my name tag to class and prominently display it every day. Instead I complain about it to the internet. Dear internet, I want to tell this man to stick his name tags up his ass!

There. I feel so much better now.





*Not that all pediatricians talk like that.

How do you even respond to these things?

I was walking Boo down the street last Friday (60 degrees and sunny!) when I came across some local youths.

Youths: Is that a pit bull?
Me: Pit mix, actually.
Youths: She's sexy.
Me: Thank you.

Not sure how I was supposed to have responded to that rather unique compliment.

To make myself feel better, I just told myself that they were really talking about ME and not my dog. It's the little things that keep us old hags going, after all.

Beau ties

We read a case in this business school class I'm taking on a company that makes bow ties. Here's what they said about their product:

A bow tie work during the workday is a fail-safe way to set oneself apart. It clearly intimates that the wearer is free spirited, non-conformist, and is especially favored by intellectuals and creative professionals.

In other words, wearing bow tie allows you to say F-you to the man. Haha! That's the last thing I ever expected to hear in a business school class. Though, I suppose that since it's in the context of marketing materials it doesn't really count. I guess that just means that this desire -- the desire to say F-you to the man -- must be more ubiquitous than I thought.

And also, all those nerdy guys wearing bow ties are really just giving the man the finger. For some reason, this never had occurred to me before.

I like giving the man the finger too. Don't you?

:-)

Such a ferocious pit bull!

Ever wonder why we don't live in Italy??

Ah, la dolce vita!

Worthless

I had a frustrating conversation about whether certain college majors were "worthless." The context was in applying to jobs.

And I have to say, I really don't think that most liberal arts majors are worthless. Sure, it may be tough to get a job as an investment banker if you study French literature, but I'm guessing most French literature majors wouldn't want to be investment bankers anyway. I could be wrong about this, however.... I don't know. I didn't want to do French literature OR investment banking.

Periodically I beat myself up for majoring in something "worthless" like sociology. Sometimes I think I should have done econ or chemistry or something. But you know? I'm doing social science and policy research now. I can get the additional econ and stats training as a grad student anyway. One might argue that I could have gotten a better job right out of college, but holy crap, I did consulting and I HATED it. Chances are that if I'd done something that was more consistent with my sociology background right off the bat, I might have been happier then anyway. Who knows. And look at me now! I use my undergrad training all the time in my program.

Besides, college isn't just about what you study, it's about the kinds of jobs and experiences you have outside the classroom too. Internships, clubs, sports. They all all provide experience that you can list on your CV. The fact is that even if you major in Econ, the Econ degree itself won't teach you what you need to know on the first day of your job as an investment banker. You need to get that from someplace else even for that field.

So my advice: major in something you love. You may never get the chance to do that again in your life. Supplement the rest of your time with activities that give you work experience and solid skills you can list on a cv. And try to enjoy the process as much as possible, because it only gets harder later on.

Thoughts? Are there really worthless majors in college?

Perspective

I have been pretty swamped lately. I have a paper that I'd like to submit by a 3/1 call for papers deadline at a major journal, and classes to keep up with readings and problem sets for. The sucky part is that in 2 weeks the paper will need to be submitted, and then I have two exams following two full days of class, during which I won't have much time to study.

And we all know that the days before the paper gets submitted will be insane. It's inevitable.

Of course I'm behind in my classes as well, since I've been focusing all my efforts on my paper.

I was getting ready to be all stressed out about this, but then I thought: Wait a minute. Compared to med school, this is NOTHING.

I mean, the exams are going to be completely manageable. One is a business school class, and the other is an undergrad class that usually gets taught in my department, but this year just wasn't. I mean, I don't want to look like an idiot or anything, but just based on the content? It's nothing compared to med school.

And since when do I stress out about something that's still 2 weeks away? That is pure madness. We had way worse than this throughout all of med school.

Anyway, isn't it nice that med school has given me some perspective? Coping skills so that I don't freak out when I have a pile of shit ahead of me to do? Or perhaps this is more of an indictment of how stressful medical school is. Constantly.

Maybe my paper will even get accepted. That would be totally awesome.

It would also be awesome if I'm able to pass my exams....

Crossing my fingers that it all goes well!

How do some compaines stay in business?

Email from Luca:
So Tallarida had some screw up and did not place our order…..
It's fixed now and the order has been placed, but it will be 3-5 days to make and bring in the door.

Yes, I am very displeased too. I would have rather gone with another company, but I just want the damn thing to be over with, and this was still the fastest way.

Hope your day is going well - over here everything else is ok.

Reply from me:
Awesome.

Can you imagine how long you'd keep your job if you functioned like this?

The answer of course is that it was too much effort for us to go with someone else. Ok Tallarida, now I will spread word of your suckiness all over the internet. Maybe we won't go elsewhere, but perhaps your future customers will.

Take that.

Update: Luca got a call from the store manager today in which he offered to give us an upgrade to a full frameless shower door. He'd have to come and measure the opening first though. Maybe they have ok customer service after all? We'll have to see.

Me to little epi brother today

Him: I was thinking that I might postpone my quals until next year.

Me: Like hell you're doing that.

Him: Why?

Me: I've been the trailblazer and figured out how things work in this department, dammit. And I've passed that information onto you, which you've benefited from. A lot. If you take the quals next year, I won't be able to benefit from your brain when we group study before them, dammit. You owe me that at least!

Not appropriate for FB

Ok guys? This comment is not facebook appropriate:

I am so proud of my daughter today! We have been talking up going to the potty a lot lately trying to see if maybe it will stick before the next one comes along. Today she went #2 in the potty for my nanny for the first time. So exciting! Just a bit sad I wasn't there for the event.

Just say no, parents. Really. The entire internet does not need to learn about your daughter's bowel movement. No they do not.

That is all.

Ob/Gyn

As you all know, I had a miserable time on my Ob/Gyn rotation, owing mostly to 1 or 2 (or 3 or 4) really unpleasant residents. I'll have you know that not everyone sucked though. Some of my residents were really awesome, and perhaps some of the most awesome residents I had during my core rotations.

But I digress.

What I really wanted to talk about was crying on your Ob/Gyn rotation. And no, I don't mean crying when your resident was being a bitch to you. I mean crying when catching a baby.

Of course, I only really caught one baby (and 4 placentas) during the entire rotation (don't even get me started on this), but every time I even saw a birth -- c-section or vaginal delivery -- I felt myself starting to cry. I don't remember if there were ever any actual tears rolling down my cheeks, but suffice to say there might as well have been. Watching a delivery was a huge huge rush. I can totally see why people decide to do Ob.

So, did you guys cry when you saw a delivery? Do you think we're genetically programmed to do this in some sort of evolutionary twist? Please let me know in the comments.






*I've blogged about this before, though at the moment I don't have time to dig through those old posts.

Valentines Day in Med School

Fizzy has a cartoon this morning about what she and her friends did for valentines day during med school.

I have to say one thing about it: FIZZY -- I THINK I LOVE YOU.

You see, Valentines day at MY medical school during my first year was a throwback to freshman year of high school, complete with getting to feel like an outcast loser and everything.

You see, some of the 14 year olds recent college grads in my class thought it would be nice to send valentines to each other. So they got together with all of their friends the night before, and brought in lots of candy and baked goods for each other, and wrote each other these sappy cards. Then on valentines day, they put them in each others lockers in between class.

And of course, since they were "nice" girls, everyone else in the class got the obligatory you-have-no-friends card from one of them also. Wouldn't want to make anyone feel left out, right? And ooh! It had that chalky tasting valentines heart candy in it. So awesomely wonderful! Aren't they all such considerate, wonderful people???

You know how this one goes. The people in the in crowd get 30 cards each. You get one. And they stand around chattering all day about how wonderful they all are to each other. And you realize that these people who fake-smile at you every day in class are actually all friends with each other, and to them you don't actually even exist.

I know I sound bitter. And I was. I was 29 at the time, and I really had no desire to relive junior high or high school all over again with a bunch of people I'd known for 6 months, most of whom I didn't even like that much. It's not like I wanted to be friends with any of them. It's just.... I don't know. These things have a way of making a person feel really uncool. Even if especially if that's not the intent. That's all I'm saying.

Maybe one of you is going to write a comment about how I'm just jealous, and if I weren't such an uncool horrible person I wouldn't have minded. And I just have one word to say to you: Nice. And also, grow up.

So anyway, that day I walked home from class and hung out with my husband who'd just into my apartment from Chicago. And then I studied all afternoon as usual. I'm so glad that part of my life is over now.

It IS really over now, right?

Happy Valentines Day, Sweetie!!

I was taking a short break from paper writing furor this evening, and I was thinking back to a few months ago when Luca and I were going grocery shopping. We went to this shopping complex in Wynnewood that has both a Trader Joe's and an Amish market with really good fresh fish and produce as well as AMAZING pies. We were planning on going to both -- first TJs and then the Amish market -- because Luca was going to make scallops for me that night.

He makes really excellent scallops, BTW. With lots of butter. Yum. To say this was one of the reasons I married him would be a tremendous understatement.

Anyhow, we finished shopping at TJs, and both walked back to the car. After the cart was unloaded, I walked it back to the cart corral and then directly to the Amish market. When I got there, I turned around, expecting Luca to be there. But he wasn't. I scratched my head for a moment. I waited. I looked around. I waited some more. It was cold out. I began to get annoyed. WTF was he?

Finally I called him.

And he was driving around the parking lot looking for me. I told him, "Honey, we were going to the Amish market to pick up the scallops, remember?"

He had thought we were going to the OTHER fish place a mile away next to the Whole Foods. Nevermind that I'd discussed The Plan with him on the walk back to the car. Yep, he'd totally spaced out what I'd said and done his own thing.

Of course the parking lot was jammed and it took him 10 more minutes to find another spot that was actually farther away from the store than the one we had originally. I was really irritated with him and bitched at him when he finally got to the store. Some main line hag gave me a dirty look.

Anyway I was thinking about this tonight, and I started to smile. It was such a Luca thing to do, and really, it was pretty funny in retrospect. It's those kinds of things that really endear him to me, and make me (paradoxically, I know) really happy that I snagged him 6 plus years ago now.

Happy Valentines Day, sweetie! You are so adorable in your spaciness sometimes, and even though I act annoyed at the time, I really really love that about you. I don't know what I would do without you.

The Runaways

Last weekend Luca and I watched "The Runaways" which is about Joan Jett and Cherie Curry's girl rock band in the late(?) 70s. I hear it's not that historically accurate, but we liked it anyway.

So, we were listening to some of Joan Jett's song's on You Tube later on that night, specifically, "I hate myself for loving you." It sounded very very familiar.



And then it came to me: Faith Hill sings a knockoff of this every week for Sunday night football on NBC. I think Pink has a version of it too.



And well? We just thought that was pretty ironic. Afterall, Joan Jett + her music = rebellion and rock and roll, and generally anti-establishment sentiment. Saying f*ck you to the man. And football? Faith Hill? Are about as corporate and conformist as you can get. And listening to that rendition of the song, you can hear how all the grit, hardness, and rebellion have been scrubbed out of it. They've replaced a hard rock lesbian with a pop star bimbo.

I'll bet she made a pretty penny selling the rights to her song for that. Let's hope so, at any rate.

Feeling guilty

I was feeling a little guilty about spreading some (completely true) gossip about an acquaintance around here.... and then I discovered she'd unfriended me!

Now I don't feel bad anymore.

Haha.

Incidentally, why is facebook suggesting that I friend her again? Shouldn't it be smart enough not to alert me to the fact that while we may have been friends before, we no longer are? You may want to get on that, Mr. Zuckerberg.

Bad Resident Stories

90% of my bad resident stories come from my Ob/Gyn rotation. I really wanted to like that rotation, but I got the impression that people were supposed to decide that they wanted to go into Ob/Gyn at my institution IN SPITE of being treated like shit. I'm not so into that.

Anyway, I was on outpatient gyn, and I had a patient with a new diagnosis of genital herpes. She was convinced her husband was cheating on her and that he had given it to her. This was certainly possible, but given that you can have herpes and never have an outbreak, and that you can have it for a long time before you have an outbreak, it wasn't the ONLY explanation. Plus, I didn't really feel it was my place to tell this woman her husband was cheating on her.

The resident felt differently. After I gave her my presentation, she said that the husband had "definitely" given it to her, muttered something about how all men cheat, and proceeded to go into the patient's room, tell her her husband had definitely cheated, and that she should leave him.

I was a little overwhelmed.

When we came out of the patient's room, the resident was still all fired up about it. I tried to be conciliatory, remarking how hard it must have been for the patient to hear that her husband was cheating, and that nobody ever expects that when they get married.

She turned to me and said, "What, you think YOU'RE immune from this? That YOUR husband will never cheat on you? That you're BETTER than that patient." she snorted. "Well I have news for you, ALL men cheat. YOUR husband will be no different," she hissed.

And there really wasn't anything else to say except: Were you even listening to what I'd said? And perhaps, Bitter much?

Neither of which I said. I just counted down the minutes until I could go home, and tried to be unobtrusive for the rest of the day.

New dog bed

The upside of postponing doing anything to the kitchen is....

We decided to spend some money on a new couch dog bed for the living room. The old one only fit the Boo and me, and only if I rested my feet on the back of the couch, since her royal highness doesn't like it when my feet are on her.

The new dog bed has plenty of room for both of us, and if we're feeling especially nice, might even fit Luca.



Boo appears to appreciate her gift.

Next on the list of purchases to make: couch covers.

Kitchen

So, after we hired a designer and got drawings and plans and everything for a kitchen remodel, it looks like it might not happen.

There are a couple of reasons for this, but it basically boils down to money.

One of the contractors came in with a bid of 35K NOT INCLUDING materials or cabinets. He was very prompt, however, has good references, and produced a quote in writing.

One contractor took 8 weeks to come see the kitchen. Then he never gave us an estimate, even with repeated follow up phone calls by me and the designer. He claimed that we never sent him the drawings, but when we re-sent them, he STILL didn't provide an estimate. Also, this one didn't want to get a permit since it was "too much of a pain."

The third contractor gave us a verbal estimate of $5000, which frankly I don't believe. And he has refused to give us anything in writing, and has continued to refuse to do this even after repeated phone calls.

So.... I think we're just not going to get it done. Sure, we could have more contractors come through, but seeing what a pain in the ass it was to even get the shower re-tiled (which isn't even done yet), I don't even want to imagine how awful the kitchen is going to be. Plus, I hate getting jerked around by people.

Also, 30-40K is a lot of money. I don't even know if I'll end up doing residency in Philadelphia. Is it really worth it for just 3.5 years? I mean, I know that not doing the kitchen practically guarantees that we will stay here, but I think I could live with that. The remodel itself? I'm not so sure.

Plus, we finally got a new refrigerator, and seriously guys? It has made a huge difference in my enjoyment of the kitchen. HUGE. Maybe that and another few upgrades are all that we really need in the end?

Thoughts?

Hitler vs. Abortion

I was reading on a blog the other day how shocked and horrified a parent was when her daughter came home asking what abortion was. She was 10.

When I was 7, I came home and asked my parents what Hitler was. One of my classmates at school had been talking about Hitler, and I'd never heard of him, so I asked.

On the blog I was reading, the consensus generally seemed to be that finding out abortion at 10 was worse than finding out about Hitler at 7. I don't know if I agree with that.

Which do you think is worse?

Sweet Child O Mine

Luca and I had some friends over to hang out on Sunday while the Superbowl played in the background. It was fun! Though I have to say, I was disturbed when the Black Eyed Peas did a cover of Sweet Child O Mine (with Slash!) during the halftime show.

And no, it wasn't that they played it, it was that nobody there other than Luca or I knew who wrote the song.

*FACEPALM*

So, dear readers, please take a moment to complete the poll to your right and tell me, who originally wrote and sang Sweet Child O Mine? Bonus points if you get the year and the album too and tell me in the comments. Triple bonus if you were actually alive when it came out. Quadruple bonus points if you know who the lead singer was, and what is name is an anagram for.

Hint: It wasn't Neil Diamond!

Hell

The theme of the week seems to be how the "real world" sucks. I guess residency will suck.... but I maintain that if a lot of those people got a job in the "real world" they would find that that sucked too.

Who knows though, right? I haven't been a resident yet so I clearly know nothing.

Anyway, back to hell. When I was working at the industrial supply company from hell back in 2002, I'd just been promoted to supervisor in the shipping department. It was quite a change from the purchasing department and the project teams I'd worked on before. The sales side of the company versus the supply side. A whole new lingo to learn and set of people to learn how to curry favor with.

My boss's boss was this bitch named Maleficent*. When I started working in the department, she "took me under wing" to show me the ropes and teach me how to navigate the politics. She told me how important it was to get people to like you in the department, and I wouldn't be able to do anything if I couldn't at least do that. All of this I would achieve by following her directions word for word.

When I got invited to the meetings where we discussed what we were going to do in the event of another UPS strike a few weeks later, I was asked to record minutes. But I had trouble hearing what some of the departments had done before, and didn't understand what they were talking about some of the time. I asked her to clarify some of the points that I didn't understand, and she said, "Don't worry about that part. It's not important. Lucifer** just wants to hear about this part that you've already done."

I though it was strange, but ok. I trusted her. If she said one part was more important than the other, who was I to disagree? I was new to the department, and she was my boss's boss.

So I go to this meeting the next day and present my work, and Lucifer looks at me and tells me that it sucks. That the IMPORTANT part was what the other departments had done, that Jim had already put together. And done such a fine job too! Why hadn't I don't that?

It was at that point that I realized that the bitch had thrown me under the bus deliberately. She and Jim were buddy buddy, and about 2 months later he was promoted to manager.

And I never received an interesting project again the entire time I worked there. I really should have quit then, it was so downhill for me at that company after that, since Maleficent spread word around that I was lazy and incompetent.

I'd say I want her to rot in hell, but then, in part because of her I lost my job 1 year later. But also, it was a good lesson in the sense that I should have trusted my gut and gone ahead and asked questions in that meeting when I felt I couldn't hear or understand something. Asked questions, even though I was the low person on the totem pole that nobody knew. Even though I was worried about looking stupid.

And frankly, it was because of that bitch that I got a job doing research, decided to go to med school, did my post-bacc, met my husband, and basically have a fantastic life now. It would be nice to be able to rub her face in that. She's probably either still stuck in that warehouse or got canned herself a few years later, and I'm sure her ass has doubled in size (at least). That was how that place worked, after all.

A girl can dream, anyway.




*Not actually her real name.
**Not his real name either -- though he came up as a recommended friend on facebook a few months back -- EWWWWWW!!!!!!!

High School

I remember my first job after college at the consulting firm. It was way back when in 1999, and I'd had no idea what to do with my life, so I'd participated in on-campus-recruiting, and by virtue of my high GPA, charm, and good looks, had nailed a coveted job at a consulting firm.

I'd found them appealing because they advertised themselves as "nerdy" compared to a lot of the other firms.

But then I started working there.

So I started this job. I was lonely. I'd always been a little nerdy. Outspoken. But it had been fine in the past. Plus, since I'd been to college, I figured that I'd overcome all that nerdiness that had made me uncool in high school.

Um yeah. Wrong!

And now, allow me to present to you: my tormentors.

There were these two vacuous bitches (hi Emily and Kate!*) who had the other two cubicles in my area. Remember the popular girls in high school? They were them. They would sit around all day chatting loudly about their hair. Their clothes. Their upcoming trip to Italy and all the weight they needed to lose so they could fit into Italian clothes. Where they went out EVERY SINGLE NIGHT. Who they were dating. The chatter was loud and constant. I think it would be a miracle if they got 10 minutes of work done each day.

But did it matter? No. One of them was the niece of a manager at the company (who was also a vacuous bitch). They could do no wrong.

So what, you say. They were distracting. That's what headphones are for.

Well yes. Except when they complain to their managers about how loud you are when you talk on the phone. When they make things up about you writing personal emails all day, and having inappropriate phone conversations. They were those kind of bitches. And do you think that your manager will care when you say that THEY disturb YOU? Are you kidding?

I think that's when I realized that the real world is actually the same as high school. The best anyone can ever do is try to find a niche where you can be one of the cool ones, or at least be so damn good at your job that it doesn't matter if you're not cool.

I figured that one out later, and that's why I'm here now.

Wow, what a horrible year!


*Their real names

On Writing

When was the first time you remember writing something? I mean REALLY writing. Not something that was due for class.

I remember when I was 4 years old being taken to my Dad's office and sitting in front of the typewriter. The carpet was this bright green with blue and white squares, and I just sat there for what seemed like hours typing my name over and over.

It was a little frustrating. I wanted to type something else, but I didn't know how to read yet, not really, and I didn't know how to spell.

When I was 10, I inherited my Dad's IBM PC Junior. I played a lot of Jumpman, but also I started playing around with Wordstar. I don't know if it was out of boredom or what, but somehow in the 5th grade I wrote a "magazine." It was called "Horse News" and had 4 articles that basically detailed everything I knew about horses at the time.

In the 6th grade I graduated to writing sex stories. In retrospect, they were not only fairly tame, but also anatomically..... naive. Ahem. Fortunately I had the presence of mind never to save the stories. I later found out that my school had encouraged my mom to read my stories when I was at school to see what kinds of sordid things I was thinking about. While I only found out about this about 5 years ago, and she swears she never looked, I couldn't help but pat myself on the back for my eleven-year-old foresight. Never trust adults! Never!!! God only knows the head shrinking I would have had to endure had my school ever found out about that. Haha.

In college I did write for the Chicago Maroon for a year or so for the News section, but that faded quickly when the News editor had to give up working for the paper. She was a pre-med and her grades were slipping, and her parents made her. I wonder what she's doing now.... anyway, she was replaced by a giant bitch who wanted to get rid of me, and thus gave me crappy assignments. My friend R who was the Sport's editor asked me to write for his section instead, and I did for a little while. But I just wasn't feeling it. In retrospect I should have written editorials, but back then I don't know if I knew enough about the world to have a valid opinion about much of anything. At very least the fact that I DIDN'T write editorials back them spares me embarrassment now.

It wasn't really until I started writing this blog that I really had another outlet. Between school, and work, and school, and being afraid of sucking at it, I just never found my writing groove. I really like my blog. In addition to being an outlet for me to express my thoughts about this whole med school process, it's become a bit of a social network for me in the sometimes isolating world of med school/grad school. I'm really grateful my friend Julie turned me on to the idea. My only regret is that I didn't start it sooner! Then, dear audience, you would have been able to read about the years of desperation preceding the decision to do my post-bac and go to med school.

Aside: I guess that's why the "suck it up" thing struck such a raw cord with me, maybe unjustifiably so. For four years I DID suck it up doing jobs I hated. HATED. I really wondered if this was as good as life got, and if it really was worth living. I received a lot of advice that, "this is what being an adult is," and that I should just, "be an adult and suck it up." And you know? I'm really glad I ignored that advice. Perhaps I'll feel differently when I do residency, but then at least I will know that the good life is possible, and I will have had these years in the middle when I was truly happy.

As for making writing part of my career, I never really saw myself writing fiction, and I don't think I'd want to write a memoir or anything like that. Maybe someday someone will pay me to write opinion pieces about health and science. With I don't know, rigorous science. Not fluff. I wonder if there's even a market for something like that. Hmmmm....

So that's my writing story. What's yours?

Drinking and modeling

Last night Luca came home from work late. We ate dinner, and plopped our behinds down on the couch to watch some Six Feet Under episodes. And I had a beer.

Of course, I had some work left over in the form of minor tweaks to my model. I'm at this stage in my project where I have to change something small, let the model run for a few hours, change something else, let it run... you get the idea. I figured, I can do this after ONE beer. I deserve to be able to sip a beer with my husband while watching tv on a Friday night! Dammit!

Well, it turned out to be one very potent beer.

I went down to my computer to check my models this morning, and I'd forgotten to start one of them running. This means I'm 8 hours MORE behind since they couldn't run overnight. Gah!!*

Let this be a lesson: Never try to drink and do stats. It won't lead anywhere good, that's for sure. At least not for me.



*Of course, given my track record of late of making stupid mistakes with my models, this could have happened even if I was stone cold sober too, but I digress.

Suck it up

I think most med schools have a mandatory class on how to not be an asshole talk to patients. At my med school, this was called "Doctoring."

Several years back, we were in Doctoring class one Friday. I don't remember what we were even talking about. But I asked the following:

"When it's 4 in the morning and you're on call, and you got a call to go see a patient, and all you wanted to do was go to sleep, how did you deal with it so you didn't act pissy with the patient and/or the family?"

And really? I thought -- and still think -- that it's completely valid question. What I was looking for was, "I tried to imagine what it must be like for the patient/family to be in that situation, and how scary it must be. That made it a lot easier to address them in a productive way rather than as someone who hadn't slept in 24 hours."

What I got was, "I told myself that, this is what I wanted. I had wanted to be a doctor, and this is what being a doctor is. Therefore I needed to suck it up."

Her response made me want to barf. And honestly? She probably acted like a big old troll to her patients if that's what she really told herself.

I guess I just found it unproductive. I mean sure, all of us in medicine have implicitly voluntarily elected to punish ourselves with residency. But saying that to herself? I don't know, it just seems like self flagellation. Self punishment that she felt she deserved in some way for erroneously selecting medicine as a career. That as doctors, rather than trying to understand our own emotions and deal with them constructively, we should get rid of them entirely (ideal) or repress them (reality) and "suck it up." It horrified me that any expression of frustration or emotion by the doctor to her peers would be met with the "suck it up" mentality. As in: You wanted this career, now you have to eat the shit that comes with it with a smile on your face.

No wonder so many doctors kill themselves.

At any rate, I like my way of coping a lot better. We'll see how successful I'll be at not acting like a troll at 4AM during residency anyway.

Miss Boo, is that grout on your paws?

Luca and I have spent the last week having our shower retiled. It started leaking sometime last summer, and between inertia, poverty, and scheduling considerations hadn't been able to get it fixed since. Thus Luca and I have been showering in the 2nd bathroom.

THANK GOD WE HAVE A SECOND BATHROOM.

Anyhow.

Miss Boo has taken a liking to the tile guys. This probably is because one of them feeds her biscuits, which I am totally ok with since she tends to shut up once she's fed. Otherwise she barks at them every time they go up or down the stairs, or in or out a door.

It's been a bit challenging to get work done around here this past week's all I'm saying.

They're supposed to leave the baby gate up at the top of the stairs so she doesn't bother them, but have been so-so at remembering.

Today the tile guy left a treat in his jacket pocket. He's fortunate Miss Boo has not been more assertive in her attempts to get at it. It was a bit of a challenge keeping her out of the shower when he laid the fresh cement, however. Nobody wants a shower with paw prints in it!

Anyway, they haven't been so successful at keeping her out of the grout. She has it on the tops of her paws.

Ah well. I guess it's kind of cute, in a way....

Under Promise, Over Deliver

So, I've been running these models for a project where the paper has to be done and submitted by 3/1. Things were moving along really fast last week, which was kind of weird since these models have 20 or so variables in them as well as clustering at the ICU level, we have to used stepwise deletion to develop them, and each iteration typically takes 24 hours to do, with ~10 iterations per model.

But I'd only needed to run like, 2 iterations so far on each of them. I was delighted things were going so quickly, but suspicious that I was doing something wrong. My mentor had asked last week when I'd have results, and I said, "Conservatively, if everything goes well, early next week."

He was thrilled. He also told me how "professionally" I'd been acting lately, which I thought was amusing since we rarely meet anymore. Ah well, I'll take it.

Can we say, Kiss. Of. Death., boys and girls?

Anyway, over the weekend -- well, actually Sunday night -- I figured out what I'd been doing wrong. And it's really probably a good thing since I'd been getting a null result before. Maybe I'll get a significant result with my new models. Plus I found two other pretty important errors. Win win, right?

Alas, the new models actually ARE taking a bazillion years to run. And I'm worried that my mentor is going to ask, "Where are my results!" (note the use of an exclamation point rather than a question mark), and I will have to say, "I found an error and had to rerun my models."

And he will say, "AGAIN?????" And I will want to say, "You've never in your life run an analysis this complex, and you have NO IDEA how hard it can be to get it right the first time. Get off my back!" But what I will actually say is, "Yes."

And there will go his opinion of my professionalism. (Snicker.)

My hope is that the paper will still be able to be completed for his review by 2/14. The down time while I run my models does give me ample time to read the literature and write things like the methods section,which is actually half done now(!) and the intro. And do a decent job with the lit review for once.

He's going to be on service for the next couple of weeks, though. Maybe he will be too busy and distracted to worry much about what I'm up to. I hope I hope I hope! And then with any luck, the models will give me a publishable (in a good journal) result. Please STATA deities, make it happen for me!