Ha ha ha...Merry Christmas!

So last night Boyd and I were watching 30 Rock. I've only seen a few episodes and snippets here and there because it is one of the things Boyd watches while I'm studying, so I don't know much about it, and I made the serious mistake of drinking a glass of water while watching. All the sudden Tina Fey is saying something that is so funny that I start snorting the water into my nose. And then since I couldn't hear the rest of the scene because of my snorting we rewound it. Big mistake. The scene restarted and then I was laughing so hard I actually began choking on my water. Really choking. To the point where I not only spit it out, but threw the rest of it up. I am awesome. That show needs a warning label. Or something.

So school is out for the next three weeks! I really can't believe that I am almost done learning all of the basic science of medical school. We just finished our block on infectious diseases and I'm beginning to feel like I know things now. Before this block, I wasn't even clear on the basics of the flu, which is pretty pathetic for someone who had already finished a year of medical school. I mean, that sounds so easy, but since we didn't learn about it until now I felt pretty useless. Now people ask me questions about things and I always surprise myself by the information that comes out of my mouth. So I gues they're doing something right at school.

So with my three weeks of freedom I'm taking suggestions as to what I should do. Books to read, movies to watch, and things to do here in Tucson, AZ. So if anybody needs any help with their busy Christmas schedules/baking/wrapping/decorating/babysitting...let me know!

Bullseye!

(By the way, this is Boyd--I know I never contribute.) Although I've often felt that my job is a lot like living an episode of "The Office", this past Friday was an all-time high for awkward ridiculousness. First, my boss: "Stew" Stewart, the CEO of our little company (about 100 people) occasionally comes to company meetings in costume, such as hippie or crocodile hunter, and proceeds to host company-trivia quiz games while fading in and out of a bad accent (to go with the costume). This past Friday we had our annual United Way balloon toss, where, if we've met our donation goals for United Way, we get to throw water balloons at the members of the Board of Directors--including Stew. It's kind of like a dunking tank with no tank, and multiple targets. The number of balloons you get depends on your donation size, and they read out your name when it's your turn to pelt the bosses. Doesn't this already sound like a day at Dunder Mifflin?

I got two balloons, and I wasn't too sure how I wanted to use them, but I knew I wanted to get Stew with at least one. So I aimed carefully--water balloons don't roll like a ball when you release, and with only two, it's tough to get the feel in time to do any damage. Anyway I let the first one fly, and bullseye! It was a direct hit--right to Stew--right in the crotch. He winced, I flinched, and the crowd cheered. My coworker said it almost looked like Stew might start crying. I can't remember the last time I've gotten that many high fives and congratulations. So I'd like to thank my parents for giving me a nice long throwing arm and enough sense to aim elsewhere with my next balloon, which hit my fairly tall manager in the shoulder.

The Victim

A howling good time had by all

Here is what it is like to live at the intersection of River and Campbell right now in lovely Tucson, AZ, in case you were wondering:

1. An ambulance, a police car, and a firetruck are all barreling down the road
2. A pack of coyotes has clearly found dinner
3. All of the neighborhood dogs have decided to tell us about it

Special Delivery!

I delivered my very first baby tonight! And even though I don't get to take it home, like most people who post about delivering a baby, I got to be right there in the trenches. I got to check the cervix, monitor the labor progress, don the sterile gloves and gown, and have my hands right there when the baby was crowning. It is more elegant than I ever thought possible. Then I got to suction the baby and hear him cry for the first time, clamp the cord, deliver the placenta, and draw the cord blood. The mom was such a trooper, she didn't have an epidural, and this was her very first pregnancy. She was such a pro!

These are the days when I am reminded why I am in school. The miracle of it all. A little perspective can make it all worthwhile. So tomorrow when I am in the nursery helping with his newborn exam, studying pathology won't seem like such a burden after all.

I can't wait for that moment when I am the mom and that is our baby. I won't even mind if a medical student needs to learn on me, because the first time is a once in a lifetime experience.

This is why I haven't posted in awhile...

My professor expects me to understand this:

"Metabolism of fructose-2,6-bisphosphate and regulation of the pathway: The formation of fructose-2,6-bisphosphate is catalyzed by phosphofructokinase-2 and its breakdown is catalyzed by fructose-2,6-bisphosphatase. Phosphofructokinase-2 is not an enzyme of the glycolytic pathway. Although phosphofructokinase-2 uses fructose-6-phosphate from the glycolytic pathway, the product of this kinase reaction is strictly a regulator of phosphofructokinase-1 and fructose-1,6-bisphosphatase. The amount of fructose-6-phosphate removed from the glycolytic pathway to produce fructose-2,6-bisphosphate is inconsequential."

I think the part that really strikes me is the part that says, "...is inconsequential." That I understand.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Li5nMsXg1Lk

Flossing's for the birds

I can hear my dental hygienist scolding me in my mind when I don't floss. So annoying! I have clearly committed dental sin and then I have to floss twice the next day as penance. However, I can pop in the cheetos and my doctor is still smiling merrily at me saying, "you deserve it!" I like my doctor. So sometimes I want to tell my dental hygienist to get herself some fanny floss and mind her own business.

Some things I do solely out of guilt. Flossing is one of them, hands down. Checking out books that can be classified as something other than literary junk food is another. You know, the classics, like (yawn) Moby Dick. I'll get a few chapters in and then, whoops!, they're due again already. Darn. But no one's the wiser that I finished that cheap-o murder mystery or read every recipe in the cookbook about chocolate, plus polished off the whole Twilight series in the same week. And it's really just because the librarian gives me that stare, you know? I feel all guilty inside if I slip into the romance section because I know she's throwing me eye darts from the set in the back of her head.

So does anyone else do things like this solely out of guilt? Or does everyone actually read those stuffy classics they check out?

Swimingly

You know that feeling when you drink the first cold sip of water in the morning and you can feel the coolness spreading all the way down your chest? It’s like someone poured cool water right through you. I love that feeling.

And here's a non-sequitur--I really want a camera. There was this window at MGH this morning that had a letter on each of twelve 8 1/2 x 11 pieces of paper spelling, "GET BETTER DAN!" It was so simple and it looked sunny but sad in the window of the 14th floor. It would have made an interesting story captured in a photograph. That's what I was thinking. Also, I was thinking that I wanted Dan to get better too.

So now I'm at work. A part of me really wants to get all sorts of scut work done with so that I can go to my boss and tell her all the ridiculous things I've been doing with my days and also tell her that there's really nothing more I can possibly do because no one else has scut work for me. In essence I've done IT ALL. And then another part of me thinks, I am really too good for scut work. And instead just writes on this blog of mine. Or checks my bank account. Or writes Boyd an email. Or looks up the movies in town this weekend--which, by the way, includes the 6th Harry Potter :) I mean, really, they're paying me $10.50/hour. What do they expect when they don't give me anything to do? I am only 50% the type to seek out grunt work is all I'm saying.

At the house I'm subletting for the summer there are these water glasses with little blown glass goldfish embedded in them, and there is also a white bone mug with an artsy panda on it that says "bei jing" all phonetically with the accenture marks over the vowels and everything. I'm really in love with both of these. Needless to say I drink my chammomile/spearamint tea out of the panda mug which makes me feel like I've just consumed a hug. The panda helps. And the fish glasses are sort of rose-colored (theoretically speaking) making me think that life is going swimingly to say the least.

Also, I'm addicted to Pandora, which is only a slight consolation prize for the gorgeous 70 degree day I'm missing outside. My optimistic side made me put on sunscreen anyways, since I don't want the spotty, fugly arms that seem to dot most women in their 6th decade. And since I may decide to become a dermatologist it only seems logical.

No cute photos of our kids until I get that camera! And then, no promises since said kids don't exactly exist yet. Ah well.