"In a way, you can learn everything you need to know from watching Sesame Street as a kid - like always play nice, always try your hardest, and even, it's okay to cry." - Scrubs, "My ABC's"

Taking a little break from the blog to focus on trying my hardest.

Just to see you smile

My dad loves sending me emails. Usually it's shop talk - things about plane tickets and bank account balances. Oftentimes, he sends me words of encouragement - if I don't think I can study any more, he'll email me to let me know that he believes in my ability to survive on only three hours of sleep. But every now and then, he'll send me something he thought was funny. Note in that last sentence I said, "he thought." My dad is often five years behind the times, but he's like a child in a candy shop and always so pleased with his internet jokes, that I can't help but smile too.

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From: Daddy
Date: 8/14/08
Subject: FW: This kid is good
To: Michelle

Check out the crazy student solves these math problems! Ha ha ha!

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Yes. Ladies and gentleman, this is my father. He has quintessential dad humor. And if you've heard my jokes, now you know where I get my terrible sense of humor from.

Anyways, that was a long story to set you up for just a little email my dad sent me. I thought it very amusing. Humor in bailouts and medicine? Yes, apparently it's possible.

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From: Daddy
Date: 2/22/09
Subject: FW: Here's how the medical community sees the bailout
To: Michelle

Physicians' Opinion of Financial Bail Out Package

Allergists voted to scratch it, but the Dermatologists advised not to make any rash moves. The Gastroenterologists had sort of a gut feeling about it, but the Neurologists thought the administration had a lot of nerve. Obstetricians felt they were all laboring under a misconception. Ophthalmologists considered the idea shortsighted. Pathologists yelled, "Over my dead body!" while the Pediatricians said, 'Oh, grow up!" The Psychiatrists thought the whole idea was madness, while the Radiologists could see right through it. The Surgeons decided to wash their hands of the whole thing. The Internists thought it was a bitter pill to swallow, and the Plastic Surgeons said, "This puts a whole new face on the matter." The Podiatrists thought it was a step forward, but the Urologists were pissed off at the whole idea. The Anesthesiologists thought the whole idea was a gas, and the Cardiologists didn't have the heart to say no. In the end, the Proctologists won out, leaving the entire decision up to the assholes in Washington.

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Truly, madly, deeply

Martin's on night float this week, and I'm still feeling sick from whatever illness it is that I have, so I didn't go to lecture today. Which fortuitously meant that I was home when Martin came by in the morning, bleary-eyed from being awake for 36 hours after delivering THREE babies on his very first day of obstetrics.

(No, he didn't con any mothers into naming their baby girls after me. I asked.)

But he did drop by the florist's to pick up the most gorgeous bouquet of flowers for me. And they smell absolutely amazing.

I must admit that I laughed when I saw his card. Because I'm easily amused. But quite honestly, I'm not sure if I laughed because of his so-called joke, or because he was so pleased with himself. His smug "I'm so funny but also really tired" look was to die for.

Beating my heart

I went to bed last night with a giant headache. I didn't feel all too well, and the boyfriend very bluntly (but lovingly, I'm sure) told me that I looked pale and honestly, well, not too good. I'd popped two Tylenol and then tried to read my notes on cardiomyopathies, but after twenty minutes, my headache was still raging unabated. So ultimately, I decided that sleeping my illness off was far more important than being able to differentiate between hypertrophic, dilated, and restrictive.

Throughout the night, I would wake up in a pool of sweat, fall back asleep, and then twenty minutes later, wake up and realize that I was uncontrollably shivering. No, it wasn't a case of finicky Chicago weather or the boyfriend stealing the blankets. It was just me. At one point, I couldn't sleep any more because I was so uncomfortable, so I just stared at the clock. 2:05AM. 2:06AM. 2:07AM. Tick tock tick tock tick tock. It's amazing how loud my clocks were. How had I never been bothered by them before?

The boy had placed a liter of water on my side table, and I had promised to drink up if I woke up in the middle of the night. So I sat there, sipping at it. And then, out of nowhere, a huge wave of nausea washed over me. And so I ran to my bathroom to sit in front of my toilet for a little bit, thanking the heavens that I had cleaned it just the weekend before.

I eventually got too cold - one of those chills episodes again - so I slinked back into bed, my heart racing the whole time. I could physically feel my heart thumping against my ribcage, and the more I thought about it, the faster my heart rate got. Call it medical student syndrome or whatnot, but I was convinced that this was sudden cardiac death and I only had one hour left to live.

I woke up four hours later, totally and completely fine.

So what was wrong with me? I had chills, hot flashes, palpitations, nausea, and a sense of impending doom. No fever.

I'm pretty sure it was just my psyche freaking out about how behind I am, as it's far more likely I was having a panic attack, not a heart attack. And I am very very behind, what with all the fun I've been having. Too much fun, and definitely not enough studying. So here's the plan of action for the rest of the week: studying and eating bunny food (just in case my arteries were trying to tell me something).

Wordplay

I love puns! And this one combines my love for old-school 90's ballads with politics. Check out the 18-second punniness below.

Leave the light on

I just got a 2009 State of the School address email from our school's dean.

Dear Colleague,

I would like to cordially invite the students, faculty, staff, and our clinical affiliates to attend the 2009 State of the School address.

This past year was highlighted by significant success in all our focus areas: research, education, and service to our community. It also marked the beginning of an exciting and ambitious plan, in partnership with our clinical affiliates, to become one of the country's preeminent academic medical centers.

More recently, the downturn in our economy and financial markets has challenged us to review our financial health and plan carefully for the future. The good news is that our financial position relative to our peer institutions remains fairly strong.

This is a sample of the topics I plan to address on February 25th. I hope you will be able to join me.

I'm so glad that our exorbitant med school tuition is going somewhere. In fact, as long as we can hold on to the "most expensive Chicagoland medical school" title, I think we're all going to make it through. It also deeply reassures me that you had the foresight to increase our tuition 7-10% every single year for the past decade. I only wish you had told the rest of us that the economy was going to go down the crapper.

Loss for words

Sesame Street spoofing Law and Order:SVU.



Dude, who would have thought that Sesame Street would bring the funnies better than SNL?? This is awesome. I love the puppets. And the chung chung-ing.

Stop and stare

I was walking home the other day, enjoying the gorgeous weather and the fact that the roads weren't completely covered in snow and ice with a nice pair of strappy heels. And then, up ahead a block or so, I saw my friend Neil. Now, I hadn't seen him in what seemed like ages, so I started to pick up my pace, thinking that I could give him a running hug, or at least the biggest scare of his life.

So I'm running after my friend Neil, with my heels announcing my imminent arrival...

Click. Clack. Click. Clack. CLICK CLACK CLICK CLACK CLICK CLACK.

I was running by this time, and then once I was about ten feet away from Neil, I realized that it actually wasn't Neil at all, and so I came to a screeching halt.

Realizing that Not-Neil had clearly heard me running and then come to an abrupt stop right behind him, I hurriedly dug out my phone so that I could pretend to be oddly intrigued by my nonexistent text message when he turned around. And yes, turn around, he did.

Because honestly, what else are you supposed to do in that situation? I had thought to keep on running by him, but when would I stop? At the grocery store? A random hotel lobby, perhaps? But I was wearing heels, and getting progressively short of breath, so I opted for the abrupt stop and the obvious stare-at-phone-for-no-reason-at-all maneuver.

I need to make an appointment with an ophthalmologist. Seriously.

Also, I need to stop assuming that Neil has the only red and gray North Face jacket in the world.

Syrup and honey

A ghost of a chance

There's been a lot of talk of The Future in recent days. Fourth year med school friends have all finished interviewing, and are now deciding their final rank lists. Third year med school friends all now have a pretty good grip on what they want to do for the rest of their lives. And for me and my fellow second year classmates, well, we have that gigantic test coming up in a couple of months.

This is usually where I would start panic-attacking in prose about said test, but I'm gonna take a little breather and skip over that part.

[Inhale deeply, grab a brown bag and hyperventilate.]

Now, why is this exam so important? After all Michelle, you pretty much know what specialty you want to go into. So why does it matter where you end up, as long as you're doing what you love?

Because it matters.

And here's where I let you in on a little known secret. I tell people that I want to go back to California. It is my dream to go back back to Cali Cali, where the sun is always shining and the people are always smiling.

That's already a pretty big dream. California.

That's why I never tell anyone that I would be beyond happy to end up in New York too.

It doesn't make any sense, really. The weather is terrible, the sun's blocked out by buildings, and no one smiles. But I spent one glorious week there, and fell in love.

(see the rest of the I LEGO N.Y. series here)

California is already too much to dream for. To wish for New York too would just be greedy.

So there it is. Can't think it, really. Can't wish it, really. Gotta just bottle it up and throw it in the ocean. Or Lake Michigan.

Besides, I don't time to fantasize about where I'm gonna be in a little over two years. I've got that big test coming up, and this girl's gotta focus. It's just me, and a big pile of books.

Delayed devotion

LISA
Hey, you coming to the Super Bowl party?

JEFF
Yeah. Are we rooting for Arizona?

LISA
Why would we root for Arizona?!

JEFF
Because that's where Michelle was born?

LISA
Dude! I was born in Pittsburgh! Nice knowing which friend you're more loyal to...

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Funny thing is, I was rooting for the Steelers this whole time because Lisa told me to. So now I feel obligated to watch tonight (even though I have a test tomorrow) and root for the underdogs. GO CARDINALS!