Tuesday, August 18, 2009

40 Lashes

My dad chastised me for not writing in my blog. "I check it every day Al, and you don't post!"

You'll have to excuse me. I'm getting married Saturday. I'm going to diverge from the usual topic to list a few reasons why I haven't posted.

See, despite the fact that I have a few mannish qualities (like my head and shoe size), when it comes to wedding planning, I still have the lady's role in it. Meaning, I have to do everything. Not that I don't have great support. My mom and future mother-in-law are on top of their games right now. My groom is understandably excited to get married to me, and is trying his bestest to help.

Something more learned women know, and that I am just figuring out, is that when it comes to details, especially wedding details, most men are as helpful as a three thumbs in a harmonica showdown. You don't need thumbs to play the harmonica Al. I know.

An example:
My groom, sampling truffles at another friend's wedding: Wow, these are really good! What a great idea!

Me, choking on my third truffle: You do know this is what I spent four hours making this week...right? I talked to you several times on the phone while I was doing it? These are our wedding favors. You know, the chocolate at each table like I described in excruciating detail?

Groomsy: Really? I didn't know what you meant when you said "favors".

Me, incredulously: Where do you GO when we talk?

Tonight I learned that this might be a gender specific trait. Here's another specific conversation from this very evening, 4 days from my wedding:

Me (while listening to strings and piano play Pachelbel's Canon in D): Wow, I am so glad that I'm going to have strings and piano playing this!

My Father: Where? At your wedding?

Me: No Dad, in the shower tomorrow morning. I thought it would add a little excitement to an otherwise boring routine.

Granted, I don't hold my dad responsible for knowing all the details of the wedding. And I've stopped hoping that my groom will know them either. I'm only griping because I wanted to sign up for the Today Show Throws a Wedding gig. Just give me a dress and tell me where to show up.

Wait, I think something else like that exists in nature. It's called being a guy.

I'm really excited about the wedding. I love to tease my fiance, but he is a wonderful guy and we're gonna have a big fun party to celebrate!

Saturday, August 8, 2009

The Fine Art of Making a Good Impresssion

I am currently doing a visiting medical student rotation at a school where I hope to do a residency. In your fourth year you can do up to 4 four-week rotations at outside institutions in the hopes that you'll make such a good impression that they will want to hire you for residency.

I was originally supposed to do radiology research at this school, and had arranged it six months prior to my supposed start date. Unfortunately, the doctor I was going to research with had a heart attack. So there went that.

One of the risks you take when doing an outside rotation is that you will at some point make an ass of yourself and they will see your true colors before they hire you. This is especially dangerous for me. Plus, every time you go to an outside institution, it has its own flavor and culture. I happen to be at a rival school where apparently no one is accepted into medical school until they can prove they are completely devoid of a sense of humor. At least the ones in radiology. Blech.

Yesterday I was sitting in a lecture given by a grandfatherly man whose voice and enunciation has long been reduced to a pleasantly low completely unintelligible rumble. I was pondering the mysteries of life, like how I moved across the state to live with my fiance a few weeks ago, my residency application, my wedding in two weeks, you know, minor stuff, when through the fog I made out a few words: "Does this make sense? You look perplexed. You, there in the front row."

Of course I was the only idiot who sat in the front row. I had every intention of paying rapt attention when I sat there. I just thought the lecture was going to be given by someone with teeth. I didn't want to say yes because then he'd talk more than the hour and fifteen minutes he'd gone already, and I couldn't even vaguely grasp at anything intelligent to say (I was that far in La-La Land), so as usual I said the first thing that came to my head.

"Nope...I think that's just my face."

Judging from the snorts and shoulder-shaking behind me, the rest of the class thought that was a fantastic reply. The lecturer just looked at me, then shrugged his shoulders. But he didn't ask me anything else the rest of the time, leaving me to my thoughts.

"Nice recovery" one of the family med students said as we left. "I don't know what happens to me sometimes." I replied. "Hey, you were off the hook the rest of the lecture; he didn't want to insult your face! I think I'm going to use that line myself!".

I'm glad we learned something in that lecture.

Monday, August 3, 2009

Happy Birthday!

My birthday was last Wednesday. I spent the morning looking at people's butts.

Not like the day where I watched people poo on camera. Nope, that morning I walked in to what was supposed to be the neuro room, minding my own business, and up on the screen was a KUB (old term for x-ray that evaluates the Kidneys, Ureters, and Bladder, though none of those things show up on a plain film) with a very strange addition to the normal anatomy.

"Guess what fruit that is?" the resident asked. Ummm, it's round...a peach? Nope, he said, a peach wouldn't survive that. Forgive me for being so ignorant. "It's an orange!!" another resident guessed. Yup. It sure was. The apple was a lot easier to pick out.

The whole morning was spent with each resident in the reading room pulling up their favorite hilarious cases of people inappropriately playing hide-and-seek with various orifices while the rest of us alternately ooo'ed and aaah'ed and tried to guess what we saw. It was like a game of shadow puppets. Except I felt kinda dirty.

This is starting to become a theme in Radiology. I really need to find a reading room with more ladies.

PS: I found this pic on a blog. It's an electric toothbrush. Whatever happened to a good old-fashioned vibrator?