Manic monday

I tried to be a good person today. Key word being "tried."

Today, on my mad dash to school, I saw a doctor crossing the street in front of me. Illegally. So as he tried to outrun the multitude of taxis and buses coming down the street, I watched helplessly as he dropped his hospital badge.

"Sir! Sir!! Excuse me! Sir!! You dropped your badge!!" I yelled, like a crazy woman.

But with all the traffic now in between us, he didn't hear me. Instead, he took off for the hospital, minus one very important ID badge.

So as I crossed the street, I picked it up. Frank Dorian, M.D. Surgery fellow.

I ran after him, trying to make up the now 3 blocks between us. It didn't help that I was in uncomfortable heels, and carrying half a dozen things - stethoscope, white coat, reflex hammer, computer, phone. Like I said, I was running behind that morning.

I swear I walk pretty quickly, but he must have been sprinting, because slowly but surely, the gap between us got wider and wider.

By this time, I realized there was no way I would catch him. And I started to freak out. If I took it to class and then gave it to him later (at noon), would it be okay? He's a surgeon! He needs his badge to access his ORs! Maybe he can send one of his hapless med student lemmings to come get it from me. It was almost insane how much I was over-analyzing the situation and trying to figure out what would have the best outcome. I almost felt like I had to make sure his badge ended up in the right hands. Dr. Dorian's hands, preferably.

So my good Samaritan heart decided to drop off his badge with the baristas at the hospital's Starbucks, and then I would page him from class to let him know where to find it. That way I would only be five minutes late to class, and he could still get his badge as soon as he wanted.

What else could be better?

Then, as I was making my way to the hospital, I ran into my friend J, bleary-eyed and tired, who was heading home after a long night on call.

So long story short, J was a good person today. I merely tried to be. But hey, at least I got to class on time.

Long night

Overheard in the hospital lobby...

M3 post-call
Neurosurgery is terrible man! They're mean to you, AND they don't let you do anything! I mean, every single day, they drain all the happiness out of me...at the very least they could let me write a note right? But no. I could sell my soul to the devil and STILL not be allowed to do anything.

Another M3 student also post-call
Yeah dude. My attending mentioned the other day that the neurosurgery department is a little harsh.

First M3
A LITTLE harsh?!?!!?

Second M3
Well, it was a general surgeon saying it.

First M3
Oh yeah?

Second M3
Yeah, I told him I had specialty next, and that it was neurosurgery. And he just kinda shook his head at me...

First M3
Man, you know it's really bad when the other surgeons start pitying you.

That's amore

Last year, my friend Matt and I would have Donut Days. These fabulous celebrations always fell on the school day right before the dreaded TEST DAY. (Cue dun dun dun music here.) We'd send each other cryptic emails ("the eagle has landed! the eagle has landed!") and meet on various dark and empty street corners at seven in the morning to head to our local Dunkin Donuts.

Donut days were the highlight of each and every unit.

So my next test is coming up. And my body knows it. Because it's craving donuts like nobody's business. And seriously, it's everywhere! I turn on the TV, and there's Giada making her tiny, but delicious-looking Italian donuts on Food Network. I'll switch over to regular cable and Rachel Ray will be hawking donut holes for a commercial.

Donuts donuts everywhere! Except, sadly, in my belly.

I'm also craving fried chicken. Fried chicken and donuts. Random aside, anyone else see that Bonnie Hunt talk show where this chef combined Krispy Kreme donuts with fried chicken? You'd think it'd be everything you have ever wanted, but her face after tasting it implied that it was anything but. (Go to people.com and look for the September 10th They Said What video - it's entitled "Not everything tastes better fried," which I think is absolutely blasphemous.)

So anyways. Just wanted to tell you that my body is really craving some plain old deep fried goodness.

Ice ice baby

Pop, coke, or soda? Now you know - although my roommate makes a convincing argument that a mere 120,464 responses for the entire nation isn't all that much. "Maybe it was like, the two people from my county who say 'coke' who were surveyed." See, she's convinced that Florida isn't associated with the good ol' dirty South and all of its colloquialisms.

Not that it matters. In our apartment, we just ask for a Sunkist.

Yellow submarine

I bought a new highlighter for the start of immunology.  A mere twelve lectures in, and it's already running out of ink.  This is just a hunch, but I'm thinking it might be because I highlight every single word on the page. 

I don't know what to highlight when everything seems important!

Pon de replay

So here I go again. Today was my second first day of second year.

It's supposed to be exciting.  Adventurous, even.  I get to meet two hundred brand new people. My next best friend could be sitting right next to me, and this day - this first day of class - will be a story we'll tell our babies about over and over.

But it's not.  Not in the least.  Instead it's scary and alienating.  Because I'm one of the few strangers in this class. Everyone else has had a whole year of PBL sessions and ethics small groups to get to know each other and cultivate friends-forever-ships.  Everyone knows everyone else's name.  Everyone has designated sit-in-the-library-cubicle-next-to-me buddies.  And their bar-hopping, dance-happy friends are sitting bleary-eyed right next to them, large Dunkin Donuts' coffees in hand.

But they're just faces to me.  Unknown faces.  Beautiful yes, but intimidating as hell.

Today, I walked into that classroom, already full of chattering friends inquiring about summer breaks, summer loves, and even some summer research. I grabbed the first empty seat I saw, and being the big dorky nerd that I am, I pulled out my notes and computer, and carefully aligned my highlighter and pens in straight parallel lines, since I had nothing else to do. I never felt more alone in my whole life.

My coffeeshop study buddies and fellow lawnmower dancers are saving lives in the hospital, far far away from the terrors of classroom learning.

So here I go again. Time to make some brand-new friends and find new study buddies.  I know it's going to work out - it has to, right? But do me a favor and cross everything you've got for me.  

I got one facebook friend request today.  So that's a start.

He said she said

On my way to school today, I saw the cutest elderly couple about to cross the street.  They were both around five feet tall and she gingerly held onto his arm and walking stick, shuffling and taking five little steps for each of his larger ones.

They started crossing the street with only seven seconds remaining on the countdown. 

"Hold tight to me Sarah!"

"No way mister.  You're walking into traffic!"

"We can make it across! You're going to be late!"

"I'd rather be late for my appointment than early to my grave!"