Spanish eyes

Martin's off gallivanting around Spain for 2 weeks as his one last hurrah before starting residency. I've been so envious from all the descriptions of the food he's eating, the places he's seeing, and the people he's meeting. He's been seeing works of art! People watching in historical plazas! Eating ostrich burgers! Me? I've seen hernia repairs and cholecystectomies. And by seen, I mean whatever I can manage to peek at while I'm retracting and holding things out of the way for the surgeon to work in a itty bitty 1-inch hole.

Spain or gallbladders? Yeah, I think Martin wins. I think he's definitely having a better time than me. So much fun, I was positive he had completely forgotten all about me and was running around with the wild women of Spain.

And then he sent me this:

(madrid)

And then, 2 days later, sent me this:

(seville)

Aww, I wish I were there too! But I guess this will have to do - can't wait to see where he takes sketchbook me next.

Mmm, whatcha say

M burger.

I know it doesn't look like much, but you'd be wrong, my friend. So wrong. I'm convinced they mix crack into the patties or something, because I'm addicted. This stuff is so so good.

M burger's the new burger joint that opened up right next to the hospital. But it's gourmet - because it shares its kitchen with tru restaurant. Or at least, that's what I tell myself to feel better about eating there ALL THE TIME. And no, that's not even an exaggeration; because it's cheaper (and yummier) than the hospital's cafeteria, I find myself going there for lunch most days. And have gained an obscene amount of weight in return, but I digress.

I've been there so often, I've had everything on the regular menu...

...and the secret menu.

Yes, this place is so hip, it's got its own special menu so that the regular customers don't get bored.

I don't know whether to be proud or embarrassed that I'm a regular.
---

Regular menu

• hamburger
• cheeseburger
• m burger (bacon, cheese, secret sauce*)
• nurse betty (no meat, huge slice of tomato, onions, lettuce, pickles, most delicious guacamole in the world)
• all-natural chicken sandwich
• french fries
• chopped chicken salad
• shakes (chocolate, vanilla, strawberry)
• drinks (coke, diet coke, sprite, root beer, fresh squeezed lemonade, homemade peach iced tea)

SECRET menu

• hurt burger: m burger + bbq sauce, green chilies (comes in 3 different levels of spiciness - I went with #2 [medium] and it was pretty mild even for super weaksauce me)
• dr. betty: nurse betty + beef patty
  
• the student: buns + cheese
• secret shake of the month - april's was butterscotch, may's is blue strawberry

* I'm pretty sure the secret sauce is just spicy thousand island. But they should change it to delicious sauce, because that's what it is!

Shut up and drive

Think Asian women are terrible drivers?



THINK AGAIN.

Yeah, I might have watched this like a million times. And let me tell you, even on the millionth viewing, that little girl is still pretty freaking amazing.

Nothin' on you

Ultimate failure on surgery = not being able to close one stupid 1cm incision, while your resident closes 7 other significantly larger incisions and then watches you as you continuously fail to make your needle come out at the exact corner.

That x 5 operations = my day on surgery today.

I'm sorry sir, I just don't know how to work a needle driver. What's this addison thingy when I could be using a much more intuitive straight needle and thimble?

Lady Marmalade

Today was my first day on general surgery.

And yesterday I didn't sleep a wink.

I kept having dreams about tying knots that wouldn't tie. And getting asked crazy anatomy questions in foreign languages. And locking my clothes in my locker and then finding out that I'm in the wrong hospital. Apparently merely going to school naked was too inconsequential for my brain.

Anyways, so I got to the hospital nice and early before the sun came up today. Opened and closed my locker successfully. Put on scrubs. And then I went and met my team. Who were awesome, just like all my other past teams. And then I went to go meet my attending in the OR. Who just happened to have given us a lecture on Friday. And pimped us all to death on acute abdominal issues.

I was shaking in my boots. (And by boots, I mean surgical booties.)

ME
Hi Dr. Stout? I'm Michelle, and I'll be in your OR today.

DR. STOUT
Oh okay. Well, this can either be lots of fun for you...or not. It all depends on one question.

ME
Are you about to ask me what I want to be when I grow up?

DR. STOUT
Haha, no. What are your top 5 movies of all time?

ME
Um. Roman Holiday is my ultimate favorite.

DR. STOUT
Ah, Audrey Hepburn fan, eh? Okay, you pass muster. Today will be a good day for you.

And then he didn't ask me a single pimp question!! It was more relaxing than I could have possibly thought possible. All I did was retract, cut sutures, and then retract some more. It was fabulous.

And then my retractor slipped. And I yelped as I watched my retractor fall out of place, messing up the surgical field. Instinctively, I apologized.

ME
Oops! Sorry!

DR. STOUT
Michelle, you never say oops in the operating room.

ME
[waiting to be berated on my terrible retracting skills]

DR. STOUT
Saying oops in the operating room? It's like herpes in a whorehouse. Everyone knows it happens, but it's bad for business to advertise it. Especially when the patient is merely sedated, and not under general anesthesia...

I have a feeling this month is going to be eons better than the last. But then again, my ENT attending set the bar so low, he buried it into the ground.

This is the song that never ends

MARTIN
Oh I know that kid - he wrote a piece in the AOA magazine. It was about turning off gchat and it was just really well-written. Actually, he kinda writes like you!

ME
Oh, so you mean he wrote hatred and vitriol.

---

I'm well aware that my blogs recently have been dark and unhappy and venom-filled towards certain people in power. So to rectify that, here's a video that has absolutely nothing to do with medicine. It's just all kinds of awesome, so it must be shared. Hit play and prepare for a total musical laugh-fest.



I've watched it now 3 times straight, and I still crack up every time I hear that verse from Barbie Girl.

(Video stolen from Martin, who got it from his friend Eddie, who saw it on The Huffington Post, and I won't ask why such a manly man is reading a celebrity gossip mag.)

Gotta get thru this

Thanks to Elinor for sending me this:



Seriously. This is how I feel every day.

I am better than dog crap. I am better than dog crap. I am better than dog crap.

I'm hopeful that if I say it enough times, I'll actually start believing it.

Gives you hell

Sorry for the radio silence the past couple of weeks, but I'm on my surgery clerkship and you know what they say: if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all.

Blink blink.

Well, I'm about to say a lot of not-nice things, but what else is a blog for, right? So here goes. I have absolutely hated every single moment of my ENT outpatient rotation.

I know, I know - hate is a strong word. But, hand to God, that's how I feel.

The patients are nice, sure. They usually always are. But these are patients with allergies and chronic sinus infections. And so, it's not particularly exciting. Because you could argue that even if your attending is absolutely the meanest surgeon on earth, at least knowing that you're doing something good for your patients, that you're affecting their lives for the better, that it would be worth all the put downs and the sarcasm.

You see, my ENT attending just has this way of saying things to me that make me feel completely incompetent and useless.

But the patients come to clinic with these chronic allergies and these deviated septums, and I can find out all I want about their history and how long they've had seasonal allergies, and all the past antibiotic regimens they've been on...but 9 times out of 10, my ENT attending will come in and tell the patient that based purely on their CT scan, it's clear they need surgery. Period. And I just can't get excited about fixing people's deviated septums, when I'm not actually doing anything for the process.

And the way he says it to the patient makes the patient think that they've completely wasted their time talking to me about all their problems, when it's SO CLEAR on the imaging that surgery is the only option.

It got to the point that I saw a repeat clinic patient today, and the patient flatly told me that she didn't want to talk to me. Because I wasted her time last week, and all she wanted was to talk to the real doctor.

Thanks Dr. Attending sir, for making the patient feel like I'm a useless piece of crap that actually slows down your clinic, when in reality, it's because you spend 50% of your time sitting in the back room reading about baseball stats on ESPN.

But the worst is when he just looks at me and tells me, in more or so words, that I'm a complete idiot. For not knowing the proper medical terminology for "mucus-y crap in her nose," or for not knowing what a perforated septum looks like, or for not knowing to ask about recent sky diving. I'm sorry, sir. I haven't gone through 5 years of residency and then more years of NOSE fellowship, so no, I don't know what a perforated septum looks like grossly. Especially since I don't have your special scopes and headlights when I'm doing my quick physical exam. And also, if you want me to ask about specific things, tell me in the beginning, please. I had no idea that this seemingly rather boring librarian, whom you've known for years now, goes sky diving on a pretty regular recreational basis. I am just meeting her for the first time, after all.

Ugh.

Tomorrow is my last day of ENT clinic. And I really couldn't be any happier. So long, Dr. ENT Attending. Take comfort in knowing that you are the absolute worst attending I have ever had. You don't teach, you don't inspire, and you will NOT be getting a very good evaluation from me. You might call it passive aggressive, but I just call it truthful.

Hello, I love you

Two years and still going strong.

You oughta know

Over the past couple of weeks, I've come to the realization that I'm 99.9% positive that I'm not going into pediatrics.

So today, I finally decided to tell my pediatrics advisor.

And after I agonized for two hours over what to say in my email, going into extreme detail of how I thought she was a fantastic role model, a great educator, and a fabulous mentor, I came to the realization that I was breaking up with her.

I was writing an "it's me, not you" email.

It was kinda awkward trying to find the right tone, the right thing to say, as I tried to tell her - who is also coincidentally my clerkship director (aka the person who determines my pediatrics grade) - that while I had completely enjoyed my pediatrics rotation, I hadn't fallen in love. I liked it. I didn't love it.

And I didn't know how to tell her that I had found something new. The emotions I felt on ob/gyn were the emotions I was expecting to feel for peds. For peds, I slept on the 6am shuttle ride, because it was so hard for me to wake up at 5am. For ob/gyn, I would wake up before my 4:30am alarm even went off - that's how much raw happiness and excitement I felt going to labor and deliver some patients. I didn't know how to tell her that I'd much rather read about preeclampsia ad nauseum than RSV bronchitis.

I didn't know how to tell her that while I had thought I would always be a pediatrician, that future no longer made me excited. It was now more of a backup, a safe choice. After all, it's a three year residency, far more respectable than psychiatry, and family friendly. But something changed. I changed. And I just can't see myself in general pediatrics any more. I want more excitement in my life than just ear infections and asthma.

So I did my usual word vomit in an email thing. Told her I thought she was great. In fact, I told her she was the reason why I continued to consider pediatrics for far longer than I probably should have. I mean honestly, I probably could have told you in late January that peds just wasn't for me. Yet, seeing how much she loved her job, how great she was with her patients, and how wonderful she was at teaching the med students, made me wonder if I could have that future too. She was my future personified.

But the past couple of weeks have made me realize that she is great at her job, great with her patients, and great at teaching, because she LOVES pediatrics. And that's not me. I love kids, but I don't love pediatrics.

I hope we can still be friends.

Two is better than one

If you haven't filled out your Census 2010 form yet, no worries! You can still send it in!!

Be counted! Fill it out and turn it in! No postage required.

Sounds like life to me

There's a scene from Friends where Rachel and Phoebe are talking about Monica and Chandler getting married. And Rachel says that she's super duper happy for them. And Phoebe readily agrees. And they smile silently for about 30 seconds. And then Rachel interjects that she's like 99% happy and only 1% jealous. And Phoebe agrees. And they smile and nod to themselves. And then Phoebe notes that it might be more like 90% happy and 10% jealous. And then Rachel goes ahead and says it's more like 70-30, but who's counting? And then the audience laughs.

Because we know that Rachel and Phoebe love Monica and Chandler. And they're jealous, but only because they want what Monica and Chandler have.

If I were being honest, I'd admit that I'd been dreading this year's Match Day. Because on that Match Day, I was going to find out just exactly how far away Martin would be moving away from me.

I knew he would go somewhere in his top 5. Top 3 even. I knew that he wouldn't be relegated to his sixth choice. Which just so happens to be here in Chicago. With me.

No, he's going to USC. Which is a fantastic place and a fantastic program. He's going to the land of sunshine and happiness. And he's super excited.

I should be super excited for Martin. After all, he's getting a new car. Looking for a new apartment. Furnishing that new apartment with grown-up furniture. Making new facebook friends who are surely soon to be neurosurgery best buddies. Going on a last hurrah through Spain before he's [laproscopically] elbow-deep in brains.

He's moving on to a new chapter in his life, and those pages are yearning for adventure.

Like I said, I should be super excited for Martin. And 99.9% of me is excited for him. But the little 0.1% that eats at me and makes me feel like I'm a terrible girlfriend, is that he's doing it all without me. (Or 90-10. Or 70-30. Depending on the day. And whether I'm feeling more like Rachel or Phoebe. But I digress.)

With every day that he mentions more new things he wants to do, more new things he plans on doing independently, the more I feel as though I'm slowly being phased out of his life. I am a part of that last chapter in his life. The chapter that's ending in T-45 days.

I don't know why I'm feeling this way. When J and Lisa graduated last year, I was nostalgic, sure - but mainly excited for what their new life entailed. I should be feeling the exact same way for Martin, right?

I guess I'm scared of the unknown. Our relationship is perfect right now, and moving half a continent away from each other is a huge giant change. Me, I'm resistant to change. After all, when things are perfect, why screw it up?

But things have to change. He's moving, whether I like it or not. I just need to suck it up and do really well on everything I've got left so that I have a shot at following him to this mythical place of sunshine and happiness and everything nice. I just have to have faith that this change isn't going to do anything but make our relationship better.

I just can't help feeling like I'm stalled on the side of the road. And he's flying by in the fast lane, with his fancy new car, starting his fancy new job, with his fancy new job title: neurosurgery resident. And all I want is to be sitting next to him in his fancy new car, starting my very own fancy new job, with my own fancy new job title: ob/gyn/psych/peds resident.

I wish I were inked already somehow into his fancy new life chapter. After all, I'm a girl who likes plans. Specifically, being a part of plans. Because plans make a girl feel special. Plans make a girl feel wanted.