Size matters

I'm reading my notes for genetic disorders, and I come across this: dentatorubralpallidoluysian atrophy.*

Dentatorubralpallidoluysian.

It's caused by a trinucleotide repeat expansion. Though it seems as though the disease name itself was expanded. I mean seriously. Seriously?

Even Google thinks its the longest word ever - "do you mean Dentatorubral pallidoluysian?"

I have no words. Or rather, I have one ridiculously long word that is completely meaningless to me.

*Quick Wiki and Google searches yielded no results, so if someone could break that down for me and let me know exactly what is wasting away, I'd be greatly appreciative.

UPDATE. Read all about it here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dentatorubropallidoluysian_atrophy. Thanks Lisa!

Lazy girls

So I got the boy a DVR for the monthiversary. And now there's a big giant dent in the couch where my butt has been for the past 16 hours.

I love TV so much, it's kinda pathetic.

(Is it bad that I'm taping so many things, I'm even recording The View? Granted, it's only set to record Hot Topics, because some of the things that Elisabeth says are too funny to miss.)

Keep their heads ringin'

A med student's away message: I stamped the word 'goodyear' on my forehead, because my brain is so tired.

Survivor

Yes. I am red. And my men are clearly doomed. What can I say? I'm a lover, not a fighter. Also, I never played war games of any kind when I was little. That would go against all the Saturday morning cartoons' teachings! Yeah, My Little Pony and Care Bears - colorful mascots of doing good and being kind. Those were the days.

But in my defense, I will have you know that I still had my #1 guy who could potentially kill off ALL of his men, if I played my cards right. And by cards, I mean, my only other player. Never mind that I would never be able to capture his flag because it's hidden in a vast field of bombs. The point is, I still had my Marshal whereas his was killed off early in the game by a lowly SPY. I'm not bitter, I just don't know how to play Stratego.

Not pictured: Martin's cheat sheet, where he marked where every single piece was, and consequently, was very deftly able to avoid my ill-placed bombs.

Californication

It's true that Californians have a terrible sense of geography, so I thought this map was hilarious. Thank goodness for going to school in Chicago because I now know the states surrounding Lake Michigan. For the most part.

Cooties

I got to school a little early today (and by that, I mean I forgot that class started at nine), so I decided to head to Starbucks to get a coffee and do a little bit of studying.

So I'm sitting there, minding my own business, when this middle-aged guy comes over and sits down across from me even though there are a million open chairs around us. I glance up and flash him a quick smile and a g'morning before turning back to my books, because that is the proper thing to do. Then it starts.

"Ko ni chi wa?"

"...what?" I reply. Partly because I'm not sure if he's just spouting word salad at me or if he really truly is trying to have a conversation with me in broken Japanese.

"Oh no. Not your language? Well then. Ni how mah. Onion? Where are you from?"

"California," I reply, a little taken aback.

"No, I mean your country of origin."

"Um, Taiwan."

He then spouts more Mandarin that is either too advanced or too accented for me to understand, and so I let him know that I don't speak the language.

"Oh, it means 'do you have a dollar?'" he says, "You know, that's all that matters over there. Money, money, money. They're always asking you for some. It's worse than the homeless bums on the corner. That's how I learned how to speak Mandarin. I just picked it up."

"Oh?" I say, not quite sure how else to respond. Because frankly, I'm appalled and indignant, and I so want to tell him that knowing how to say two phrases in Mandarin does not qualify as "learning how to speak Mandarin." (Side rant - why does this only happen to Asians? You don't hear about a Mediterranean guy being approached by people saying "Arrivederci! Opa! Mamma mia!" while flailing theirs arms and hands about. No, but people go up to an Asian person every so often, clasp their hands together and bow, and chirp in an annoyingly high voice, "KNEE HOW" or "SHAY SHAY KNEE." Frankly, I find it a little racist. End rant.)

"Yeah, I know how to speak Japanese and Korean too. Oh and Filipino."

I start ignoring him, so realizing that I'm not awed by the things coming out of his mouth, he walks away to go harass a nurse.

"Nurse, nurse! I have dog jaw!" he exclaims, seemingly in pain.

The nurse, or hospital staff in scrubs, is a compassionate person, and asks him what's wrong.

"Feel my jaw! It's dog jaw!!"

She moves to palpate his jawline, and just as she does, he barks and bites her hand.

"Hahahaha, get it? Dog jaw! Ha ha ha!!!!"

Um, psych? Did you lose a patient from your wards? Because he's in the coffee shop.

Seriously, what a strange morning!

SOS

I am the worst med student ever. No, forget that. I'm the worst person ever.

So, the law school atrium has the most beautiful set of stairs going up to the second floor library. And I'm sitting right next to the staircase on the second floor. Having lunch and catching up on my celebrity gossip blogs.

Then, all of a sudden, someone shrieks. Followed by a couple of loud and echoing bumps.

This someone slipped and fell down the concrete stairs in her rush to get to class (and exam) on time.

Immediately, everyone sprang up to see if she was okay. And the people closest to her on the ground floor ran over to see if she was hurt. She was still conscious, her ankle hurt pretty bad, but she was okay, she replied.

Don't move! said one of her rescuers as she tried to shift herself into a more modest position. In his mind, it was much better to pull a Britney than exacerbate a possibly broken neck. Another classmate rushed to the administration office to get help.

Five minutes later, and everyone was still milling about, hanging over the stairwell, wondering if they were going to call an ambulance to come get her, when the hospital was less than a block away.

And that's the thing. Everyone was just standing about, anxiously awaiting to see if she was okay. No one laughed. No one talked. And no one wanted to be the first person to walk away from the scene.

Except me. I figured, they had sent for help. And there was honestly nothing that I could possibly do. So I was to first to turn away. I went back to my table and resumed eating my lunch.

And now I feel terribly guilty for leaving. And terribly stupid for not knowing the first thing to do in this situation. How do you assess for a broken neck? Is there anything that I should have done? Is there anything I could have done?

I can't believe I was to first to walk away. I wonder if this makes me compassion deficient?