So... yeah. Been a while. I'm in third year now, which is so much better than the first to years it's scary. I LOVE BEING A THIRD YEAR!!! I get to see patients! I get to play doctor. I have delivered a baby without dropping it! AWESOME!!

I've done Medicine (cool) and Psych (a little scary) and now I'm on OBGYN which I absolutely ADORE. Trauma surgery is looking a little slim now, as I really really really love delivering babies. I have to say, my love of delivering babies extends primarily to "Push!" -- *baby's head pops out -- suction -- clamp/cut cord -- toss baby to nurse -- suture tears*, but that's okay. I've sworn off patients below the age of 18, but since most of these babies are born before or at 40 weeks, technically they are negative in age, so I don't have to break my oath. Except when the mother is less than 18y/o, which does happen. A lot. We deal with pelvic exams, antepartum, peripartum and postpartum mothers, and I'm loving every minute of it. I'll be finished with my three weeks of OB tomorrow, and then I'm on the GYN service for three weeks, which deals with pelvic exams, vaginal bleeding, and cancer (on the whole, much more depressing than OB) but has a lot more surgery to it. I will miss OB terribly. Only thing I won't miss about this rotation is getting up at 4am and getting off work at 6pm, grabbing dinner, trying to study, and then going to bed by 9p. My body isn't handling it well, and I haven't seen daylight in weeks, it seems.

Other than that, Christmas was great, was fine, and I'm looking forward to next Christmas. Stay tuned...

Ever since finishing the Boards, not a night goes by that I don't dream about missing classes. But it's a regression of sorts. In my dreams, I know that I'm a medical student, I know I'm on break, yet somehow, to supposedly get ahead before 3rd year, I am back in high school of all places, taking Latin, math, and something else. And, of course, I am failing these classes because I keep forgetting to go to them, so I'm stuck doing last minute papers or studying for tests for high school classes in a high school that I didn't even go to. The funny thing is, I realize this high school can't be GSGIS because it demands so much less of me than GSGIS did.

Last night, I dreamed that I had to finish assignments for some high school class, then I talked myself out of it because (in my dream) I thought I was dreaming about class anxiety because of Boards. But then (in my dream) I realized that my class anxiety was real, that I did have to go to class and explain my absences and beg to drop out of the summer classes I was taking, and explain to the principal that I was suffering from post-Boards stress and that I shouldn't be taking these classes anyway. And the thought occurred to me: why am I stressing about high school class grades, when not even my college grades go on my medical school records?

Then I woke up. For real. And every morning, I have to reorient myself to time, date, and the fact that I am indeed on vacation and am NOT I repeat NOT taking classes till July 23rd. It's harder than you think.

But at least I'm sleeping, right? I haven't gotten a good night's sleep in ages till this week. Stupid Boards.

I've started playing a video game with Aaron. Yeah, I know, right? I thought I hated video games that involved more than shooting ducks or making blocks fall to cancel out rows. I don't like dying in my games.

But anyway, we've started playing Champions of Norrath or something like that. He's the muscle melee guy, and I'm the archer elf thing. I'm getting better at shooting, too. We complement each other well. He goes in first and starts beating the crap out of orks, and I stay behind and (try to) shoot at them from a distance to kill them. Which means, he gets all the gold they're carrying because I'm shooting them from so far away. But that's okay, because he uses it to buy me jewelry. Of POWER! It's fun, and beating the crap out of orks of doom is therapeutic after a long day of beating the crap out of my brain with the pharmacology of doom.

I'm reading sci-fi and playing video games now. I think I'm well on my way to becoming the geek I've always wanted to be! YAY!!

And he buys me jewelry. Of POWER. *grins* Oh, and he gave me a gem to put in my boots to make my armor better because, even though he could have used it for himself, he wanted me to be safe.

He loves me. *grins*

Not updated much, but what's new, except the year.

Recently, things having happened since my last update.

-- Realized I'm not coping well with medical school and life, so I went back on my anti-depressants. Prozac boosted my last two test scores by 10 points each.
(*Note: I love the boy, and he has been a great source of comfort, but even he couldn't pull me out of my funk, which is stress-related)

-- Rode with Tuckahoe Volunteer Rescue Squad on both Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve. Christmas Eve started with a DOA. Got progressively better.

-- Went to Illinois to visit Aaron's family from Jan 26th - 31st. 13hrs each way in the car. Got lots of knitting done, and listened to show tunes.

-- Rode with TVRS January 1st, where man gets assaulted in his 3rd floor apartment then dropped straight down the well between the stairs. Face smashed, hemothorax, two skull fractures, and bleeding in the brain. Not sure he's coming off the ventilator. Get pissed off at squad leader for making "jokes" at the expense of two women he treated in Richmond, in essence blaming them for their fates (one was doused in gasoline and set on fire by her "boyfriend" (consequently died); another had her hands chopped off with an axe and her trachea smashed with the blunt end of said axe by her "boyfriend"). Walked out of the squad early shaking with rage.

-- Drove back to Illinois on January 6th for Aaron's grandmother's funeral. 16hrs up. Only met her once before, but it was memorable, and she was quite the sweetheart.

-- January 8th, morning of Aaron's grandmother's funeral, get a call from my mom. My grandfather has died. Attend funeral for Aaron's grandmother, get back in the car the following day, drive BACK to VA. Attend my grandfather's funeral on January 11th.

-- completely lackidasical for the past two weeks. Missed first week of school for funerals, then just... didn't care for a while. Studying cardio. Make fun in class (when I go) by quietly adding a "dun-dun-DUUUNNNNN" after every mention of "sudden death" made by a professor.

-- January 25th, dropped off my grandfather's suits at CARITAS for the homeless men to use, and find out a beloved member of our church has quite suddenly died. Attended visitation, but couldn't make the funeral.

-- Exam this Friday. Looking forward to the weekend, where a lot of NOTHING will happen.

I thought I'd post my thoughts on Dumbledore.

For those of you who haven't heard, JK Rowling outed Dumbledore at Carnegie Hall a few weeks ago. And I don't appreciate it.

Now, don't get huffy: y'all know I love and respect the LGTBetc population, and am a huge proponent of gay rights, equality, etc. But Dumbledore's homosexuality just doesn't seem to serve a purpose. He never outs himself in the books, which kinda makes the whole retroactive outing seem a little shady. Instead of seeing him as a strong, gay role model throughout the books, outing him after his death when he gives no indication of being gay make it seem like he was hiding it, or ashamed of his sexual orientation. And it also makes me wonder if she did it just to further ostracize those that already despise HP because of religious beliefs, which just makes me disappointed if that's the case.

I just don't understand why it was necessary to out him -- if it was just a flippant comment or something she planned and never told anyone for whatever reason. But why not just let him die in piece? Why bother? It just doesn't make sense, serve a purpose, or drive the plot in any way, and while it would have been nice to see a strong gay character in HP, I don't think outing Dumbledore after his death was the right choice.

Firstly, I just wanted to say that I knitted so hard the other day, I poked a hole in my finger. Seriously. I separated two of the ridges on my left index finger and created a hole partially through the epidermis. I'm that hardcore about knitting.

Secondly, I hate cancer. Of all of the parasites, diseases, and badness in the world, cancer scares the crap out of me. Some people see the beauty of how it is created and how it mutates, but it's painful and ugly to me, and I don't want to learn about it. *pouts* Even the blood smears and marrow samples are ugly -- a novice can tell the difference between pretty tissue and freakish, ugly, out of control tumor. Too bad I have a test on it tomorrow. *sigh* It will be over soon.

Thirdly, after tomorrow's morning test, I'm getting in my car and driving to West Virginia to go white water rafting with some schoolmates in the Wilderness Medical Society. Seriously, we have one of those. I'm SO EXCITED!! There's going to be a festival on Saturday with blue-grass music and arts and crafts, and on the way up I can go to Tamarack, which is this artist colony that Aaron and I went to on the way back from Illinois. It has a lot of really cool handmade things -- blown glass, wood carvings, YARN, etc. And pear wine! And Sunday morning we go white water rafting and get wet!! YAY!!

And THEN, I come home and moonlightalice and wellgull will be here and we will eat, drink, and be merry!! SO EXCITED FOR THIS WEEKEND!! Now I just have to get through my test...

The walk from my school building to the gym takes me past the ambulatory (same-day) care center and Nelson Clinic. I saw a girl today wheeled out in a wheelchair as I was passing by. Her right leg was no more than a stump at mid-calf, and she was wearing an ARMY t-shirt.

Maybe she was in the war, maybe she wasn't, but she can't be any older than me. And it made me sad that there are people no older than me, and some younger, who will live the rest of their lives with debilitating effects of the Iraqi war such as amputations, PTSD, chronic illnesses, etc.

Even seeing the news and reading articles in the papers and magazines never made the consequences of the war hit home until today.

After a long, LONG morning of the bacteria that cause sexual disease (yay Syphallis!), we had the fear of god hammered into us by our administrator. Topic of discussion? Residencies. Read: the rest of my life.

Highlights of the afternoon:
1) By third year, you should find a career path that you cannot live without. It doesn't matter if you were only in that rotation for three weeks.
2) Once you choose a residency, you're kinda stuck. I mean, you could start over again if you don't like it after a few years, but it will mean that much more schooling, as you have to start all over again. Never mind that you owe $200K to the bank, and starting over will mean that much more time you have to spend paying your loans. Don't even think about leaving the profession. Again, $200K in debt, and you get paid crap as a resident (~$30-$35K for 80hr weeks.)
3) If you're a mediocre student, you have little hope of getting into a competitive residency, but... *sigh* ...miracles have been known to happen.
4) If you match and you're unhappy with your match, tough cookie. You shouldn't have listed the school (which actually, is very true). If you tell them you don't want to go, you'll be blacklisted from the match process eternally. (Matching is the computer process by which they pair every med student with their school across the country. Some restrictions may apply).
5) If you DON'T match, woe unto you! You scramble for a position with an unfilled residency. They will put you in a room with a fax machine, a computer, two phones (one for outgoing calls and one for incoming calls) and a friend (to answer the incoming calls), and you will call and interview with every residency that has an unfilled slot until you find one that will take you.

Again, I ask myself, with deepening unease.... is this life REALLY what I want?

...you've convinced yourself you have a disease. Yes, my friends, today I convinced myself I had cancer. Malignant melanoma, to be exact.

I'm taking pathology right now (the study of when things go wrong in your body -- an anatomical view), and we've spent a few days looking at various and sundry neoplasms (cancers). And today, in a cursory explanation of the blotchy black and brown kidney that my prof was holding, she explained how to tell if a mole (made brown by melanoma, the same stuff that put black splotches on the kidney) is malignant. And of course, my mole fit the profile exactly.

Soooooo.... after class, I went up to pick her brain about what exactly should I look for in a cancerous mole, trying to play it cool. And then, when she could tell by the horrified look on my face that something was bothering me, I breached MAJOR MD-prof/med-student etiquette and had her take a look at it. And she said I should get it looked at to be sure, but she thought it looked pretty benign to her.

Now I feel stupid. But she's a really cool lady, and she said that if every med student didn't go to Student Health Services at least 4-5 times a year for self-diagnoses (from Malignant Melanoma to Peruvian Jungle Fever), she'd be shocked. So... I guess I've started my second year off right after all.