Monday, February 26, 2007

It's still snowing in the Heartland. There has been some form of precipitation in the sky for about 5 days straight now. The silver lining to that cloud was that all flights departing from O'Hare were pretty much cancelled over the weekend, so I got to see my friend Liz as she passed through on her way home from Sweden, which was delightful! Also, she left her Swedish liquor with me for safekeeping. I promised I would protect the liquor from being consumed by Shanmugam. Or myself.

In other news, I have been doing practice questions for Step 2. Did you know there is actually such a thing as a penile fracture? That was NEVER in my spectrum of knowledge. I know that, because there's no way I could forget that such a thing as a penile fracture existed. I would post a picture of this very important surgical emergency here, but this blog is for the kids. I like to keep it clean.

I also did some rheumatology questions and was very surprised to learn that one of the complications of Behcet's disease, an autoimmune disorder characterized by painful mucosal ulcerations, is a "scared vulva." That took a moment of thinking before I realized they were probably talking about a "scarred vulva."

Also, I forget sometimes that my friends (I mean, my real, human friends. Not that you are not also loved, o adorable Internet entities!) read my blog, until last night when I made a homemade pizza (with substantially improved results from my prior attempt, see below) and Garani said she sure hoped it turned out better than the one on my blog.

The Oscars

I really like Melissa Etheridge's song from An Inconvenient Truth but I have to be honest...I missed "It's Hard Out Here (For A Pimp)." But Martin Scorcese and Three 6 Mafia are now tied in Oscars, No. of Times Won.

Thursday, February 22, 2007

Find a happy place.

I FINALLY found the battery for my digital camera. It's been months since I've taken photos, and I wanted to share the glamour and sophistication of the Peg's world with y'all. Prepare to be dazzled.

The last photos I took before "losing" my battery were of this time in November when Shanmugam and I attempted to make pizza from scratch, dough, sauce and all. It was quite the undertaking. Unfortch, we never got the memo about how handy those darn pizza pans are when your crust is all soft and doughy and liable to fall apart if you attempt to maneuver the pizza without a pan underneath.

Behold our culinary masterpiece:

And the resulting disaster in our oven:

(The part you don't see here is Shanmugam and I thoughtfully contemplating this situation, then deciding the best thing to do would be to deploy the "Self Clean" feature of our oven, thus incinerating any and all remnants of the unfortunate pizza. RIP. And we still haven't figured out how to scrape all the black stuff out of the window.)

Also, when Shanmugan first moved in, I mentioned his incredibly admirable efforts to facilitate our couch potato-ness by affixing a mini-TV guide to the remote:

It cracks me up every time I look at it.

Also, when we were home over Christmas break, I ran across a closet full of stuff in the basement that's been sitting there since the dawn of time. Much to my dismay I discovered God in this closet. I was shocked and appalled at this finding so I brought God to Chicago to give him a proper home in our apartment:

The funny thing is, Natraja has been perched on that barstool ever since we lugged him out of the car trunk and upstairs. I completely forgot that might be seen as a slightly unorthodox place to keep God; y'know, sitting around the TV like the rest of us, just hangin', until Gaya was over and pointed out how weird it looked to keep God on the stool. He's just like another part of the family, involved in our daily activities. THAT'S THE WAY GOD SHOULD BE, PEOPLE.

I would also like to display our humble little foyer. In an act of silent protest I kept my shoes in the hall until Shanmugam put his suitcase away, and now Shanmugam refuses to put his suitcase away until I tidy up and put my shoes neatly away in the closet. Because we're both incredibly mature adults, things will likely stay this way until May when I move out.

And finally, most impressive of all, may I present:

The hybrid double-spork-in-single-packaging-sleeve.

Discovered at Taco Bell yesterday. I will keep this double-spork until such a time arises when 2 sporks are needed. That time might be when Shanmugam brings home a delicious chimichanga but fails to bring home a spork. Or it might be when I make a cottage cheese-pineapple salad and need 2 sporks for the ultimate serving weapon. Or it might be tonight when Shanmugam and I try to eat cereal for dinner and realize there are no clean spoons because we haven't run the dishwasher in 3 weeks. Only time knows.

My Specialty

I totally stole this from that doctor on the other side of my city, Doctor-Squared, but it cracked me up -- that thing is like a mind reader!

The medical specialty for you is.... OB/GYN

OB/GYN is the best of all specialties. As an OB/GYN, you have chosen one of the most noble fields in medicine. You will work longer hours than a surgeon, but without the high pay. But you will still do it because you have a passion for the field. And after you rush to the hospital at 3 in the morning for the third night in a row to deliver a baby, the parents will turn around and sue you if there were any unforeseeable complications, which is why your insurance rates are so ridiculously high. Come to think of it, OB/GYN?? What were you thinking?

To find out what specialty best fits your unique personality, go to:

What Medical Specialty Is For You?

And, yeah....all that up there? Pretty much the universal reaction when I told people I was doing ob/gyn. Especially that bit about getting slapped with a lawsuit. Oh...yeah, let me concentrate more on losing my entire career, livelihood, and life's work when one bad outcome I had no control over means I get screwed with a debilitating malpractice suit. Um...I'm going to go curl in the fetal position and suck my thumb for a while now.

Wednesday, February 21, 2007

Lost: I'm officially turning you off.

Did anyone catch Lost today? During my research year when I had time to burn I got the DVDs and got all hooked on this show. Today, however, I am totally through with this show. Today's episode pretty much sucked. I think the show is clever sometimes and occasionally there are some unexpected revelations; however, I think the writers are in way over their head. They've created elaborate plotlines with dozens of characters who are all supposedly connected somehow, but I really think they have no idea where to take this. In short, this show is kind of a huge tease. To be honest, I'd rather spend my time studying (there are few things that elicit such a strongly negative response from me). Lost will probably just get cancelled before having a chance to resolve any of the storylines; it's really sinking in the ratings...because people like me who love suspense and were addicted to receiving another puzzle piece every week realized there were way too many puzzles and not enough pieces. (I take my TV watching very seriously.)

This was me watching Lost tonight (don't read this if you haven't watched the show yet):

TV: Watch Lost tonight to see the conclusion to the most burning question on this island!

R: Yeah! Lost is so effin' awesome!

TV: Jack blah blah.

R: Dammit! Another gd Jack flashback! I so don't care about this guy. Where are Walt and Michael!? What is the motherfucking Dharma initiative?! HOW CAN ALL THE WOMEN HAVE PERFECTLY COIFFED HAIR AND SHAVED ARMPITS ON THIS ISLAND?!

TV: Jack goes to Phuket and meets Bai Ling who, unsuprisingly, kinda looks like a hooker. They fornicate.
***Editorial note: When I first wrote this, I accidentally typed "...and meats Bai Ling." But, that also would have been appropriate. Ha! Ha ha ha!

R: Man, this sex scene is kind of gross. Flips over to Real World. And if Matthew Fox has his shirt off and I'm still willing to change the channel, that is some very poorly done sex. D'you hear me, Lost editors??

TV: Kate & Sawyer blah blah blah. Karl blah blah.

TV: More boring and uninteresting filler crap happens.

TV: Jack:
And THAT is what my tattoo means. [Note: I had never even noticed this tattoo before this episode.]

Oh. NO. You have GOT to be kidding me. Takes off houseslipper and hurls it at the TV.

This blog is now officially anti-Lost.

Tuesday, February 20, 2007

Pregnant in America -- Oh I'm not finished yet.

Let me finish my thesis on C-secs now...

A woman tells us that "A Cesarean is very difficult to recover from." Well YEAH. It's motherfucking MAJOR SURGERY. They are slicing open your abdomen. I mentioned many attributes to elective C-secs last night, but we can't ignore the fact that it's a surgical procedure. And hence the entire controversy around elective cesareans. It really pisses me off when people say things that they think are BRAND NEW INSIGHTS into medicine when they're already issues doctors have been agonizing over for years.

"SURGERY is what it is!" Thanks for the 411.

Now there's a scary painting showing the profile of a wide-eyed woman with her finger to her lips looking at little mothers burning in fires. Hey I have that painting. I plan to hang it in my waiting room when I start my own practice. BECAUSE WE'RE TRYING TO KILL YOU AND YOUR BABIES. You should definitely take what I just said very seriously. Shhh.

Now a slide promises A search for the truth, followed by an image of a slowly turning windmill. Oh...the Dutch have the truth! How dare they.

Now a Dutch obstetrician tells us, "It's a natural thing, and sometimes you need assistance." I don't understand why they had to go to Europe to pay some guy to say this when the above statement is the VERY CRUX OF LOW-RISK OBSTETRICS.

Now a slide beseeches us, "So why are 98% of all US babies born in hospitals?"

A man answers that question for us: "Obviously these have become great machines for making money," followed by a swivel shot of pregnant women sitting around a waiting room. Oh yeah, the same way we try to profit on natural aging, well-child check ups, and routine physicals. It really burns me to think that people think we're just sitting around the hospital eating bonbons and laughing at all the sucker pregnant women who are throwing their money away with us when in actuality if you were to divide my future salary as a resident over the number of hours I'm actually working, it amounts to even less than minimum wage.

Now they're interviews of totally random people walking around Times Square. A man tells us that "Doctors should be more responsible in the actions that they do." Thanks for the tip. Nice do-rag, by the way.

Another woman tells us "There were 22 people in the delivery room with me." Who were they? Did you not know how to get rid of your family? Or did the obstetricians invite their friends in for the party? Or maybe it was a team of highly-trained neonatalogists, pediatric nurses, ob nurses, and your high-risk obstetrician trying to help you and your kid who was living on the edge.

Now set to some mournful wail-y generic Tori Amos knock-off music, a woman tells us, "When you're at the hospital they poke you a lot. They're always around you, giving you shots, taking blood." Yeah!! That SUCKS! I mean, leave me alone!! Stop FUCKING CHECKING ON ME!! And where the hell is room service? I ordered my steak, like HOURS ago. These people keep waking me up to ask me if I'm in pain or bleeding and then they wrap that stupid little velcro thing around my arm and pumping it up all tight. That is NOT how you do a Swedish massage, people! This is like, the WORST HOTEL EVER.

The doleful music continues as another woman warily tells us, "Doctors are very quick to give you antibiotics and pain medication." Those Satanic monsters!! I mean, it's like they think there's a WHOLE BODY OF VERY ELEGANTLY RESEARCHED LITERATURE SHOWING THE BENEFIT OF GIVING ANTIBIOTICS TO WOMEN COLONIZED WITH GROUP B STREP DURING LABOR TO PREVENT NEONATAL SEPSIS. And then they made you take PAINKILLERS? Those sadists.

Another woman looks to be on the verge of tears as she recounts how she "ended up having shoulder dystocia." Wait a minute. Is she implying that somehow the hospital or the obstetrician was responsible for the fact that the infant got stuck in the birth canal? Wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. So wrong. In fact, shoulder dystocia is a complication of vaginal delivery you really kind of want to be at the hospital for in case obstetric maneuvers fail to release the baby and you end up needing an emergency section.

After all the doom and gloom, a woman offers a solution: "I think you have to be your own doctor nowadays." I am totally comfortable letting people sort of fry without medical care if they're fully informed of the risks, however, when a baby's involved that might be incredibly irresponsible.

More women chime in and say that midwives are the answer. The Dutch obstetrician gets the final say, "Deliver at home, but within 15 minutes of a hospital."

Wow. Definitely, such a fair and balanced view of contemporary obstetrics is definitely what our field needs now. I mean, it's not like there's ALREADY a crisis of care where small-town obs in states with exorbitantly high premiums (Pennsylvania and Illinois) are driven out of practice, and women needing obstetrical care have to travel hours away to other states to receive their care. Thanks a lot.

Monday, February 19, 2007

Pregnant in America.

A documentary entitled Pregnant in America is being released later this year. If you're in medicine, or have a brain, or have a decent amount of common sense, check out the preview, and see if you're offended as I was.

I will definitely be seeing this film when it comes out, and I had several knee-jerk reactions to the trailor. I would like to preface the following comments by saying I respect the work that midwives do and I think midwives and obstetricians can make a fine partnership to offer individualized care for each patient's delivery. I also believe it is 100% a woman's right to choose if she wants to give birth at home, as long as she's informed about the risks of delivering at home without immediate access to pediatricians, an emergency cesarean section, or neonatal resuscitation. But if it was me, or my mom, or my friend, or any woman whose life I gave a rat's ass about, I would strongly recommend delivering at a hospital.

This film is apparently about the commodification of prenatal care and childbirth in America. Let's examine the trailer quote by quote, shall we?

SLIDE: In a country where we expect everything to be better...

...the U.S. scores 2nd worst in newborn death rate among all indistrialized nations.

First of all, it's spelled "industrialized." Jackass.

Now there's a shot of a newborn with nasal cannula in place. She looks a little tachypneic. Is the nasal cannula supposed to scare me? You might have my interest if this baby was actually intubated (tube down her throat attached to a mechanical ventilator).This kid looks like she might have transient tachypnea of the newborn, or maybe they stuck it on her because she was born having already produced meconium (baby's first poop) and breathing a little fast and there was concern she might have aspirated some of the poop into her lungs. She looks full term so I'm thinking she's not in fulminant respiratory distress (also because nasal cannula's kind of wimpy...if there was a real concern she'd be intubated). I am not impressed.

Some old man who wrote a book called Magical Child is now telling me that "Hospitals lose an awful lot of their babies." I'm not sure what this means. Is he talking about pediatric tertiary care centers? Actually, I didn't have too much time to look into his book either, because I'm supposed to be studying for the Boards right now. I.e., learning real medicine.

SLIDE: Is childbirth a medical event?

This KILLS me. I love when people say, "Childbirth is NATURAL," and that "profound" statement is usually followed by, "You don't need to be in a hospital or have a doctor!" Well motherfucking DUH. Childbirth is natural, but you kind of still want someone who knows their way around, in case something goes wrong. Because it's kind of a big deal, and 95% of the time it goes off beautifully without a hitch and you probably could have done it at home in your own bed, but 1/20 is still high risk for some disaster, so I'd kind of want an expert around, especially because the disasters can be devastating. Also, the miracle of life is a beautiful thing, yes of course, but the miracle of life involves a lot of poop, blood, and amniotic fluids and can be somewhat messy. Perhaps not what you'd typically enjoy having in your bed.

Some woman (the founder of "Hypnobabies") now tells me that "Childbirth itself is perfectly normal. Complications are CAUSED because of INTERVENTION." Incredible! TELL ME MORE. (Incidentally, Hypnobabies is a project advocating hypnosis during childbirth in place of epidurals. If that's your cup of tea, cool. Personally, I'm going to go for the epidural. Let me know how the hypnosis works out when you're passing a cantaloupe through your vagina.)

Now there are flashes of some online news articles:

Article #1: Routine epidural turns deadly. I remember when this was on Dateline, and it's totally tragic and I'd be fucking pissed if this was my family member. A woman contracted meningitis from unsterile epidural placement and died shortly after childbirth. That really, inarguably sucks., it didn't really have anything to do with obstetrics, or bad neonatal care, or some weird American birthing tradition. Any invasive procedure done in an unsterile fashion can cause dramatic infections. I guess the point is she didn't really "need" the epidural to have the child, but the overwhelming majority of the time, the anesthesiologist kinda knows how to keep a sterile field and can place an epidural without complications. It's sort of his job. This one just sounds like he sucks.

Article #2: Dosing error kills 2 premies, 3rd in critical care. Another isolated incident of egregious, horrendous patient care. Anytime an IV (intravenous line ... it's used to draw fluids, or give fluids...very standard in hospitals) line is placed, some heparin is flushed through the tubing to prevent blood from clotting around the tube. It seems that vials filled with the adult dose somehow made it onto the neonatal floor, and the babies received adult doses of the heparin flush. It was a really stupid, irresponsible error. Again....not really something caused by the "American birthing system." [Also, I hate to sound too cavelier about this because it was totally preventable, but I'd like to point out that 6 babies received the adult heparin flush, and only the 3 premature neonates were affected. Because they're really, really tiny....and not to be cavalier but had those babies NOT been born in the hospital where they had access to neonatal resuscitation, they wouldn't have survived at all. AT ALL, because babies born before 28 weeks haven't yet produced enough surfactant, a chemical that decreases the surface tension of the lung's alveoli thus increasing compliance and allowing the lung to stay expanded while breathing and not collapse in on itself.]

So...yeah, both of those articles speak to the incompetence of some healthcare workers and are kind of scary. But really, they deserve more to be in a documentary about stupid hospital mistakes, and not about how obstetrics in the US is practiced wrong.

Now we have an irate man talking about how's been to England, and Germany, and Holland, and how their cesarean section rates are much lower than ours is at 33%. This actually isn't true -- we do C-secs at the drop of a hat here in the states, and many of them are probably unnecessary, for a multitude of reasons, but Europeans actually tend to do MORE sections. And the trend is for women to request C-sections. I have really mixed feelings about this, but a lot of the European literature supports elective C-sections. It's more convenient, more cost-effective, carries less long-term complications (it has the complications of any abdominal surgery -- adhesions, hernias etc but the complications associated with vaginal birth -- like pelvic floor relaxation, incontinence, dyspareunia are nonexistent, and some small European study had shown that impairment of quality of life from these complications was far less with the c-secs. Eh. I don't have a strong opinion yet on this, but I'm sure I will in a year.) Europeans also tend to have less kids, and their obstetricians are more amenable to performing what could be termed medically unnecessary c-sections, because they know they won't be needing to operate on these patients again and are comfortable with causing some adhesions.

Ok, not to go off on a tangent, but this is a subject I've really thought long and hard about. Some might argue the whole "natural process" thing again; ie vag births are how it's supposed to be. On the other hand, if we found an intervention to achieve the same results painlessly and more efficiently with less complication, why would it be wrong to do that just because it's "unnatural?" Some studies have shown that babies delivered by C-sec produce less epinephrine and norepinephrine (adrenaline hormones, ie the "fight or flight" response) than babies born vaginally, thus concluding that these babies experienced less stress during delivery. These babies were followed for a year and were found to be less easily agitated and more socially adapted. Who knows, I'm not really passing judgment one way or the other. Just thinking about myself though, I know I'll probably be super-busy with my career by the time I get around to having kids, and I will probably really appreciate the option of a scheduled C-sec, so I can actually plan my life around my child, instead of being overwhelmed and stressed out and resenting the kid for not showing up on time.

Now the man wishes to know, "Why is that?" Hate to say it, but we live in a litiginous society. People are so quick to bring a malpractice suit against an obstetrician for a suboptimal outcome that no one's going to take a chance and let a mom continue laboring if there's any indication at all that baby's not getting enough oxygen. Isn't it incredible that we use tocometers (they monitor uterine contractions from outside the belly) and fetal heart rate monitors to track the baby's wellbeing and we use these indicators (along with maternal power, and her energy reserves to keep pushing) to decide when to do c-sections? We do way more sections than we used to, but our fetal mortality rate is still exactly the same, despite these advancements. However, we still adopted them, because it's the best we've got right now.

Alright, I'm getting pissed off and need to get back to work. If anybody has any comments I'd actually really like to hear them.

Sunday, February 18, 2007

Also, there's ad on TLC for "Life Lessons," and one of the Life Lessons is that Merlot and email do not mix. SO TRUE. I really credit my friends for forbidding me from drunk emailing last night. Now I need to work on the drunk dialing. Virgin Australia offers a service where certain numbers are banned from your phone from 10pm - 5am. That's perfect. It's exactly what I need.

I did a little drunking last night.

I didn't realize how absolutely bonkers I go when I'm by myself until Shanmugam decided to take some friends of his down to Centralia for the weekend. So yesterday I studied for a few hours until the evening; then I went home and went a little loopy waiting for my friends to call me back so we could make plans for the night so I finished the better half of a six-pack I had sitting in the fridge and smoked a half pack of cigarettes. When Gaya and Grace finally came over we actually polished off an econo-sized bottle of Bacardi and a fifth of Smirnoff. (I would post pictures of all these empty bottles but I can't move right now.) We were out (seriously doing a lot of nothing) until 3am, then I came home with a whole bunch of energy and online shopped until 5am. It's all fun and games until you wake up the next day feeling like something crawled in your mouth and not only died but started decomposing.

And that's why it's 2pm and I'm in my pajamas on the couch watching Matlock and eating bread and water.

Also, I'm giving serious consideration to the thought of having a roommate when (or I should say "if," in deference to the Match) I move to St. Louis. The only thing is I know I'll be working extremely long hours and if I have the horrendous roommate situation during the 2nd half of my 3rd year when my (medical student) roommate got engaged and moved out to live with her fiance and we found what we thought was a suitable replacement via Craiglist and she actually turned out to be the most irresponsible, laziest piece of shit I'd ever met. And her friends were huge drunks and left huge messes in my apartment. Is there another way to find a roommate? One who isn't a total loser?

Thursday, February 15, 2007

And...I couldn't resist. I had to send back an equally flirty/snarky email with a winky face in return. Despite being duplicitous and sneaky, men are sometimes totally irresistible. Dammit.
You know what else I hate? MINDFUCKS. (Hello, and welcome! Happy Valentine's Day! Please make yourself at home.) I think mindfuck-age is present when said guy who can't bring up the girlfriend until 6 weeks later is now sending emails with winky faces in them. WINKY. FACES. Yes, I understand that making fun of my poker skillz (or lack thereof) is very funny and joking about how I'm welcome to give you more of my money is cute and deserving of a winky face, however men who are in committed relationships really should not be sending winky faces to other girls.

What's funny is, I sit here and analyze these small gestures to death and back again, and he probably doesn't even remember sending the winky face. Most of the time, I really love being a woman, but just sucks.

Tuesday, February 13, 2007

Cabin fever.

The southern Heartland got walloped with an assload of snow today so I couldn't drive back to Chicago, which meant another hyperproductive day at home for me! I set my goals very low: I just wanted to study for 3 hours today. I think between 3 hours of TV, 5 hours spent looking for chocolate/whining about how there was no chocolate/bugging my mom to make me brownies/eating aforementioned brownies, and 2 hours spent doing the laundry from when Reflux urinated on my pajamas and my bedsheets (yes while I was WEARING the pajamas and sleeping in bed on those same bedsheets), I squeezed in a good 45 minutes of studying. [Seriously, I used to be able to study for 16 hours a day. I look back on those days and wish I could bring that intensely nerdy girl back just for a few hours a day.]

So...yes. Being peed on. Not a new experience for me; however no less jarring the second time around. And Reflux is never allowed to sleep with me again.... peeing in bed is kind of a dealbreaker (though I know I have friends who would beg to differ!).

And now for the Reflux update: sadly, his mental status seems to have deteriorated. He's taken to walking around really quickly in circles for hours at a time before getting really dizzy and passing out. We did some research and unfortunately this is how small dogs manifest dementia. After the unfortunate peeing in bed incident my parents and I discussed putting him down again. I just can't do it, and as long as I think he still has some kick in him and finds enjoyment in certain things (like food, and naps; the things we all love) and isn't agitated and upset all the time, he'll stay with us. In the meantime, we'll just deal with the urinary incontinence.
But now he has to sleep in a bed on the floor of my parent's room.

Let's segue to something else now. Y'know what I hate? When guys pull out the "girlfriend" card too soon. Like, I have a girlfriend. CALM DOWN. I just asked you if that seat was taken. I think it might stem from a rather charming trait some men have of assuming that all women want them. On the other hand I recently experienced the exact opposite, which would be when the girlfriend card is up the sleeve and not revealed until well into the game. Which is far more acutely painful. Thinking about it, I guess when things are sort of borderline, there's no good time to show your hand, but on the other hand, did he have to wait SIX WEEKS to trot her out?! *Whew*

Monday, February 12, 2007

My favorite holiday. Bitches.

There's nothing like Valentine's Day to make you acutely aware of how single you are. No matter how much you've got it GOIN' ON in your life, if you're single, this is the one day of the year where you're made to feel like an utterly worthless pile of shit because you don't have someone to shower you with bland commercialism in celebration of something you may or may not genuinely share. (Not that there's anything wrong with commercialism. I like me some Fannie May.) I don't begrudge people in relationships (one day I hope to be in one myself!) but I despise the fact that singletons are hung out to dry on this holiday. Well NO MORE! I say Take Back the Chocolate! And I will be. Taking back. Lots of chocolate.

In other news, I just finished my medicine subI (PRAISE JEBUS) and the greatest lesson I learned was that picking ob/gyn over internal medicine was the smartest decision I've made in my entire life. I'm back home now in C-town spending some time with the p-units before getting swamped in Boards, MPH thesis etc. I also recently made the decision to rank the program in St. Louis #1 for residency. I've received very nice messages from the residents and the faculty at that program and I think it'll be a good place for me to work hard and maybe have some fun. My parents are obviously psyched that I'll be so close to home - quoth my mother, "We'll have a ball!! You'll call me when you're free and we'll go SHOPPING and watch MOVIES!!" To which my dad replied, "She's doing residency, not joining a sorority." Hee.

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Monday, February 05, 2007

I was on long call Saturday and post call yesterday, and it was my interns' last day, so our resident took us all out for drinks before the Super Bowl. Then, despite the plans I had to go to Gaya's Super Bowl party, I promptly came home and passed out on the couch. In all honesty though, it was -6F in Chicago last night. Once I got inside and in my sweatpants, it would have taken a crowbar to get me back outside again. that's my wild Super Bowl story! It resolves with me passing out on the couch during the pre-game, and waking up at 11p when Shanmugam walked in the door and asked me if I had actually seen a single second of the game. The answer

Also, I'm in the home stretch! This is the last week of my subI...I'm getting a little emotional. (This will happen many times in the coming months. Just a warning.) It's weird to think this is my last rotation as a medical student. I am VERY HAPPY to be getting rid of the short whitey (that length makes everyone's butt looks big), but the thought of being a real doctor scares the living shit out of me.