Happy New Year

2013: Odd to realize that when I think back over this year all I remember is how blessed I've been.  With gratitude I'd like to keep the holiday simple this year and just say how Great is our God!



Romans 1:16
For I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ: for it is the power of God unto salvation to every one that believeth; to the Jew first, and also to the Greek.

 

Wish you all a happy and prosperous New Year!

God's Blessings

Hasta!

Merry Christmas.

Little Drummer Boy

Come they told me
A new born King to see
Our finest gifts we bring
To lay before the king
So to honor Him
When we come

Little baby
I am a poor boy too
I have no gift to bring
That's fit to give our King
Shall I play for you
On my drum

Mary nodded
The ox and lamb kept time
I played my drum for Him
I played my best for Him
The He smiled at me
Me and my drum

Christmas is here.  Snuck up on me it did.  And now that it’s found me, I guess further attempts at hiding would be futile.  Up until now I had plenty to keep me distracted, but now there’s nothing between me and the cold fact that I come empty handed this year.  

I heard the statement the other day that anthropologically speaking, gifts are a way of asserting dominance in a group.   I would have disregarded that statement as pish-posh previously, as I would always have been able to amply participate in the giving end.  But what happens if you can’t give? What happens when on the right of you they give myrrh and on the left they give gold, and you, you hang your head in shame for you have nothing to give.  

This has been a common method of teaching that Jesus has been using with me this year, perhaps the past couple of years.  I’ve had the sometimes painful privilege of walking in a wide variety of shoes.  Shoes that I thought just weren’t my style in any way, shape or form. I realize now that subconsciously I had harbored stereotyped prejudices that made me dismiss some shoes as ones I would never wear myself.  People I thought I loved, said I could love as Jesus loves, was not an actual love but a condescending do-good fulfillment of my role as a “Christian.” 

There are many more miles I have yet to walk in these shoes, and perhaps many different shoe changes to come in the near future.  Only God knows. But to commit to continue walking is all I can do. For blisters heal.  And with that comes understanding, empathy, love and what I can only pray for, perhaps a bit of wisdom.

So the Little Drummer Boy.  I would venture to say all can relate when standing before the gift of Salvation in the form of the baby Jesus.  A gift no human being can repay.  God simply has me standing in a different pair of shoes this year which gives me a different perspective on just exactly what it means to be indebted and unable to repay.  But what did the Drummer Boy do? Did he hide his small drum ashamed when standing next to myrrh and gold? No. He brought all he had and offered it in its entirety.   

He played his drum for Him.   He played his best for Him.   Pa rum pa pum pum.

Rereading this I’m afraid it’s much more serious than I intended, especially for a Christmas posting.  I guess all that’s left to say is...

Merry Christmas from the bottom of my heart.

Hasta!

Estoy acurrucandome con mi sobrino.

Had the question to top all interview questions today.

"How much would you pay someone to wash all the windows in Montana?"

Apparently though it was a common question asked of the interviewees because throughout the day whenever meeting someone new they'd ask, "So, you cleaned the windows in Montana yet?"

Hasta!

Estoy sin pasadores.

I look like I've just changed in an airport bathroom stall for the second time in two days.  Doesn't help the look that Wichita TSA had me take the bobby pins out of my hair going through security.  eeeeh!  Feeling about as bad as I look.  Blah!

Got into Wichita late last night.  Had been a long day, and I was soooo thankful that I was almost to a bed.  Honestly 'sleep' was taking up the majority of what thought process I was still capable of making.  So between the transport options Wichita offers at 11:30pm of taxi, or rental or taxi...I went with the quickest option of taxi.

And now, less than 24 hours later, I'm back at the airport again.  One of the residents I interacted with today volunteered to drive me back to the airport.  God bless her!!  She took me on a detour on the way kind of showing off some of the Wichita highlights.  hehehe!  #Wichitawesome! (sorry, couldn't help it.  One of the residents I interviewed with dropped that fabulous nugget of cheese.  That kind of hometown pride just demands to be acknowledged! ;)

Hasta!

Estoy entrevistando con programas varios.

I guess I typically slack off blogging while I'm in Illinois.  But I wake up this morning in Miami.  For a few days at least I'm walking around barefoot and my toes aren't frozen.  I'm here for business...technically.  But, planned a few extra days in the trip to stay with some long time best friends Kristina and Sirish Mulpura.  I don't know if it's Sirish's South Indian culture or Kristina's sweet disposition, or really just the combo of the two that makes their heart for hospitality overwhelming.  They keep telling me "you're on vacation, relax, lay by the pool, etc..."  and to tell you the truth I hadn't exactly come here with that mindset, but...they're starting to convince me otherwise! ;)

 

Kristina & I

 

Once again in the shade so we could take the sunglasses off!

 

Kristina and Sirish

 

Through the palm trees in the center of the photo is the downtown Miami skyline.

 

A closer look at the downtown Miami skyline without the palm trees, pero con los abuelitos! :) (but with the grandparents! :)

Welcome to Miami! 

Hasta!

Estoy comiendo donas.

I'm heading West tomorrow.  Been awhile since I've seen the prairelands of the Midwest.  Long enough that the last time I drove home the trees looked as they do now.  The cold was as it is now.
Trying to tie up all the lose ends before I leave.  A little bit more planning than usual needed for this trip, a trip that has trips within it.  Did you know that the US postal service only holds mail for a maximum of 30 consecutive days? I hope nothing important arrives in my mail box over the rest of this week...cause it'll sit there for quite awhile if it does.  Going to be away from New York until January, and it's a little weird saying goodbye to people at work and neighbors, etc and wishing them a Happy Thanksgiving, a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year all in one breath. But this whole year has been on the surreal side anyways, so I guess I should be past the weirdness that life can throw at us.

Got a picture with my officemates, Juan and Alex, before leaving today. 

L to R: Alex, me, Juan.  And yes, they really are that much taller than me! :) Alex will be heading back to Spain in about a week, so was the only final farewell of all the goodbyes.  These guys have been a surprise blessing during my time at WMC. Working with them, learning from them, and being able to call them my friends.

The stereo has gone caput in my car just this last week.  At first I was worried about having a lack of soundtrack for my roadtrip. But then I decided to empty my mp3 player and resync it. Problem solved. Roadtrip soundtrack? check!!

Now if I could just get myself to do the whole packing thing I could maybe be good to go! ;)

Hasta!
 

Estoy empezando ya cansada.

New England took a turn for the bitter cold today.  Thankful Saturday was sunny and bright! Marcy B. and Amanda V. had driven from CT late Friday night.  And after catching a few winks we rose with the sun Saturday morning to make an early train into the city!

 So that's how the Rockfeller Tree gets decorated!

 Greenacre Park.  Sadly the waterfall was no longer running. But mysterious men disappearing into cement walls?????? I'd say still proved to be a stop well worth it!

After seeking for and finding Greenacre Park we caught the subway Downtown and went in search of the Wall Street Public Courtyard!

 We found it!  (If you care to, feel free to zoom in on my fabulous friends! ;)

 Brooklyn Bridge Walkway!  Marcy maintaining the center of the center! :)

 We struggled a bit trying to get a shot on the Brooklen Bridge without other people behind us, or where our heads weren't blocking the Downtown skyline.

A random lady offered to take a picture for us!

 

 Ummmmm, thank you?

Catching an early afternoon train back so we could get on the road and back to CT in time for a farewell dinner/singing. What can I say about this train ride? Selfies? wigs? rope? A mad dash for the exit, pushing each other up the aisle, diving for the train platform as the door is closing...literally....smacked elbow to prove it!  De-training at its most epicness!

Hasta!

Estoy limpiando la casa.

Pulling out of the parking lot at the hospital this evening, I turned the radio all the way up.  It was just one of those kind of evenings.  I wanted to drive fast.  Bad luck. Very bad luck. Construction on my route was supposed to end at 3pm....."supposed to end", because it definitely was still in progress, bottlenecking rush-hour traffic and backing it up for miles of stop-n-go.  Sigh.  I don't know who had the worse luck.  The construction workers, stuck on the job (for probably some really frustrating reason) hours past shut down time.  Or the rest of us trying to go North on 9A after work.  Finally making my way to the actual area of construction, I was struck by something rather funny.  And when I say 'struck' I mean 'slap in the face'. And when I say 'funny' I mean 'eye roll + snort'.  While all the workers were just standing around, there was one guy still working.  He was the sign holder.  He was there with the stop/slow sign motioning each car on through with a wave of his hand.  Really my friend?  After over an hour of going seemingly nowhere, I now need your okay to press the gas peddle? Forgive my rudeness my friend, but I respond to that slap in the face with an eye roll and snort.  Those last 4 miles home were probably a bit more on the excessive side of fast.

Going to be having my second over-night guests visiting tomorrow night, so I did half the cleaning this evening.  I turned my music up loud and serenaded my poor unsuspecting neighbors while scrubbing the toilet bowl.  I hope my usual quietness makes them more on the forgiving side.  After awhile Apt 5 started playing his guitar.  I pretended he was joining in and playing along. Instead of trying to drown me out! ;)

Got another quote for you from one of my officemates.
JMV: "Are you trying to decodificate me?"  (a.k.a. Can you make sense of what I'm saying?)

Hasta!

Yo estoy avergonzada.

Over the past week or so, I've had a couple experiences of positive reinforcement.  For example, finding out I passed my test is one such experience.  And,I've felt a little weird about it.  I'm not used to it.  Over the past couple of years, there hasn't exactly been a whole lot of external positive reinforcement for me to work with.  Even now in "interview season" I get a steady flow of daily rejections from programs.  It's about 1-2 rejections a day.  Can one get used to rejection?  I'd venture to say, desensitized at least.  When it becomes the usual, just another fact of life.  You learn to instead focus on the steady beat of eagles wings.  So then when you get some physical feedback that says, 'hey good job there!', or 'hey someone liked what you did there!'  I was feeling rather wary of just why I'd get so much suddenly.  I actually took a short time out this morning at the hospital to have a heart to heart with God.  To let Him know that I needed to be brought back down quick as I was in danger of getting a big head.  And I chuckled to myself getting back to the work at hand because I knew what was bound to happen sooner or later, and I was curious to find out just exactly how He would do it.
If I had guessed how it would happen, I would have guessed Dr. A.  And I would have been right.  There was a research meeting this afternoon, for which I'd had to quickly put together an abstract for one of my projects.  When the conversation of the meeting turned to focus on the project, Dr. A picked up my abstract expressing, "What the #*!@#$%^!* is this!"  You could hear a pin drop. Slowly all eyes turned to stare at me. And instantaneously I could feel the burn all the way to the tips of my ears.  Ooooo boy was he Ticked. Off.  Picking up papers and throwing them on the ground, cussing up a storm and everything.  He hadn't actually read my abstract, but I hadn't put any numbers in it, which he could see by glancing at it.  Now, I have many many many numbers in the data that I've collected and reviewed.  So much so that the tables I've organized them in are really rather large.  And in keeping an abstract to one page I opted to leave them out.  So, there's no numbers in the abstract.  So, he threw a fit right there in the meeting.  And all one can do is sit and let it blow over.  But hey, nothing like a heaping helping of public humiliation to deflate one's ego right?  Plus, I've learned a lesson.  Never give anything to Dr. A unless it has numbers in it. 

Hasta!

Yo estoy trabajando.

My officemate asked me why I'm so smiley lately.  I responded I didn't think of myself as any more different than normal.  His response: "No you are.  You were sad two weeks ago."  I played it off, denied it.  But honestly, I can tell you exactly what he was referring to.

I was feeling incredibly pointless two weeks ago.
Project 1: We're waiting to hear if it's accepted.  So nothing to do at the moment.
Project 2: We're waiting for the IRB to be approved so we can expand the patient search and complete the data extraction.
Project 3: I'm waiting, been waiting, will probably continue to wait for my access to the specific program to be granted so I can actually analyze the data that is sitting in the office on CDs.  Soooooooo frustrating this bureaucratic red tape.  The work is right there in front of me and I can't touch it.
Project 4: We're waiting for organization.  It's over 100 years of data to comb through.  Just how is this going to be accomplished?
Project 5: So this was technically the only project that I could accomplish anything on.  However this is the vaguest of all the projects.  I've been working on this since June.  Will probably be working on it until I leave, whenever that is.  But if anything ever results of this research in matters of publication or benefiting the medical community, it will at minimum be at least a year from now if not more.  Most likely when I'm gone.  And all of this work I've done will be handed off to someone else, revised and then another name put on it. So......I was asking myself, just why exactly am I spending time and effort on this?

I reiterate. I was feeling incredibly pointless.  My work was not proving to be productive.  No one was being helped. There was just no clear reason, why or purpose.  And feeling as such, Colossians 3:23 was just not coming easily.  And this.  This was making me sad.


I know Jesus is reason, why and purpose enough to work heartily no matter how productive or helpful the work is.  I knew this, and really gave myself the daily pep talk, but I still struggled.  We all struggle sometimes.
So the next time the work isn't as productive, maybe that's when our 'Good morning' to someone in the hallway, or a smile to a coworker is the most important.  When we need to remember that our work which doesn't leave a papertrail is more important than the work that does.

 Hasta!

Colossians 3:23 And whatsoever ye do, do it heartily, as to the Lord, and not unto men;

Yo estoy hablando en español????????

There's three of us in the office now.  Alex just came from Spain Wednesday night.  So Fridays have apparently been declared Spanish days in which within the office we speak 100% Spanish.  We lasted a whole two minutes before Juan pronounced 'lluvia' as 'shoba' prompting an argument about how Spanish is properly pronounced.  This argument existed primarily between 'Argentina' and 'Spain', because the one thing they could agree on was that 'Mexican' Spanish was the worst. 
The Spanish language is a very emotional language.  Emotion and feeling is so much easier to express in Spanish than English.  So you can imagine how awkward someone would feel walking into a room to fax something and a Spanish argument is in progress.  Even though it's just a friendly argument, to the English ear it sounds like they're about ready to resort to blows.  They picked up on that eventually and would pause when someone would come in, only to resume once they had left again.  Of course the argument was all in vain.  In the end the Argentinian still says 'sho' and the Spaniard 'yo'.  And me, well, I'm very happy to stay a Mexicana!!!!!


This reminds me of a really good video making fun of the differences between different Spanishes.  :) "Que dificil es hablar el espanol" (How difficult it is to speak Spanish.)



Hasta!

Yo estoy preguntandome.

I finally, and very excitedly I might add, was able to go back into the city last Saturday.  Met with Vero.  Then later in the day met up with Christine.

 I sat up against the wall at Grand Central Terminal.  I had my book open as if I was reading, but no words are needed in a hub like Grand Central where so many stories are coming to an intersection.  Running to catch a train...why are they late? where are they going?  A family speaking French....vacation? why in October?  She almost got ran over, even though the workers were honking....has the constant soundtrack of New York desensitized her? What is she reading?

 

We discussed opinions on when to give money on the street versus not to give.  The man with a rope and a bucket of soapy water, making amorphous bubbles three times the size of the little ones running around after them shrieking with pure childlike joy?  The old man floating melodies from a saxophone? 

He climbed right up there.  Right up on top of Alice's head.  :)

 

We hurriedly crowded onto the subway in attempts to grab a seat.  I wanted to hug the unkempt homeless man I found myself next too.  For no other reason than I was happy to be sharing part of my day with him.
  

While perusing the work of Christopher Wool at the Guggenheim I was struck by how thickly Art and Psychology are intertwined.  An artist's regression is applauded and described as "a surge of euphoric energy and a violent visual expletive" (see above). 
 

We stayed till they kicked us out!

I wonder if this city would have given me the same energy had I come at a different stage of my life.  I wonder if subconsciously I've choosen to romanticize how I view the city because I'm holding onto the hope of possibilites that such a place offers.  For where there are people, there is collaboration, there is possibility.  I wonder such things.  And then I smile.  For I know had I come at a different time.....it'd be no different.

"In New York,
Concrete jungle where dreams are made of,
There's nothing you can't do,
Now you're in New York,
These streets will make you feel brand new,
The lights will inspire you,
Let's hear it for New York, New York, New York"
Alicia Keys - Empire State of Mind


Hasta!

Yo estoy boba.

I'm not sure if I've mentioned Dr. Marini before.  Perhaps the most brillant man I've ever met.  He's one of the Trauma surgeons/Critical Care Intensivists here at WMC.  I'm working on one project with him.  Best thing about his brilliance is that it is accompanied by a love of teaching.  He goes on teaching point tangents often.  No complaint here.  Only problem he has is expressing himself in a way the rest of us can understand.  For example, just this morning....

Dr. Marini:  "If this is orange, and this is orange, and this is apple.  Then you have oranges over apple minus one.  And this tells us that there is increased right ventricular afterload."

Nice try Dr. M, but somewhere between the fruit salad and the afterload....ya lost me.

My officemate, Juan, sometimes confuses his English.  Same as I do in Spanish.  There was a good one today that had me laughing.  Thought I'd share:
JMV:  "You afraid me!" (a.k.a. You scared me!)

Hasta!

Yo estoy cambiando una llanta.

Another day.  Another flat tire. 

Got to the parking lot yesterday after leaving the hospital to find a nicely flat left rear tire.  So thankful it was left as, right, would have gone unnoticed.  I debated a whole 30 seconds about maybe making it to a gas station to fill it up and thus not have to actually put the donut on.  But a second good look at the tire, and I was 'good grief'ing myself for giving way to the idea in the first place.  The poor tire looked like a popped balloon. So I pulled out my tools and the donut, and set about changing the tire.

One lady commented while passing by that she was so shocked I was doing that.  Not even her husband knew how to change a tire.  Made me feel a tad better about my incredibly limited knowledge of car care.

But then this was followed by a medical student stopping after an 'uneventful' day in the hospital as he called it.  He asked if I needed some help.  I responded truthfully that No, it was okay. I was good.  The look I got in response to that was along the lines of 'yeaaaaah riiiiiiight, sure.'  And then he proceeded to help me anyways.  So I stood back, and I'll admit, it definitely went faster with his help.  But at the end I made some comment about tightening the tire once it's back on the ground again, and he gave me a look of surprise saying something along the lines of 'so you do know what you're doing!'  *Facepalm*  Do I even want to know how ridiculous I apparently must have looked trying to change that tire?  No, No I don't think I do.

Hasta!

Yo tengo 28 años.

I had thought I'd post something on my actual birthday (Oct 16), but I came out of the testing center yesterday and my brain was flat-lining.

Leaving at the end of today it was more like the dizzing oscillation of a sine wave, but hey...at least it was waving.  I felt like someone had put me in the washer on a high spin cycle, and walking to my car afterwards found myself asking, "What just happened?"

Prometric testing centers need to consider installing punching bags at their offices.  I'm sure I'd not be the only one to make use of it after something like that. 

That being said, this is something I wrote to myself Tuesday night (Oct 15).  "If I let myself think about it, I know I'm not ready to take this test.  But at the same time I also know that it's time to do so.  Whatever happens I will praise Jesus!" 
It was time.  He's indulged me long enough, and needs my focus to be elsewhere now.  

So 28 years....  I'll admit it, perhaps a little out of breath finishing this lap.  A little wear and tear starting to show in the form of wrinkles and white hairs.  But wait for it..... wait for it.... there, second wind kicking in!  ;)  We're good to to go!

And what do I think I've learned in 28 years?

1) Jesus.  Lord and Savior.  Friend and Constant Companion.  Author and Finisher of Love.  Whether I believe or not, whether you believe or not, does not change the fact that he was, is and always will be the Only True God.

2) Time does not stop.  The future will eventually be the past. 

3) Impatience is perhaps the most futile of human emotions.  Proved useless by the simple constant passage of time itself. (Disclaimer: A lesson I've learned and yet know that I still struggle with impatience more than I probably even realize.)

3) Rock-bottom is merely the next step.

4) People.  Love people.  They are the reason and why Jesus has you where you are.

I could keep going I suppose, but really a lesson I've learned is that these mere 28 years isn't enough to claim experience or knowledge on anything. I see my older brothers and sisters in a light of renewed respect, that they've lived 80 plus years of this thing called life. Whew!! Wow!!  For anyone turning 90 and we all want to throw a party/open-house for you, please just smile and let us.  You give us courage and hope.  90 years are worth celebrating.  And you are worth celebrating for having lived them.

So let's get this 29th year underway!! And as many many more as You need, dear Lord.  They are yours.




Hasta!

Yo estoy irme de excursion.

The hunt for distractions found me down by the river today!

Hasta!

Yo estoy tratando de distraerme.

I heard someone say this the other day.
"I was thinking, wouldn't it be so cool if there was a 'Spotify' for books!  And then I realized.....there's libraries."

If you love libraries raise your hands and say Blue Kangaroo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I've spent quite a bit of time at the library over the past week.  It got me out of my apartment and helped keep my productivity up.  Didn't work quite as well today.  I think I spent more time twiddling my thumbs, bouncing my knee and chewing my lip than I did successfully reading two complete sentences together. 

I stuck it out for awhile, kept trying.  Eventually gave up and returned home.  A bag of popcorn, two apples and a handful of lemon drops later....and now I'm just trying to scrounge up distractions.  Enter blogging.....


Hasta!

Yo estoy pintando.

As the days are getting shorter, the day is now just dawning as I drive to the hospital in the morning.  Pretty soon it'll be still dark.  The other day the hues of dawn mixed with the array of colored trees, which was then muted by the misting fog rising from the Hudson River in the coolness of the morning.  The color God had painted that morning was really just quite uniquely wonderful. I could not recall ever seeing a dawn quite like it before, and honestly don't ever expect to again.  It left me thinking how thankful I am to not be a painter.  Any attempt to recreate such perfectness would end in frustrated crumpled up pieces of paper.  But since I'm not a painter.  I just got to sit back and enjoy.  Praise Jesus!

Hasta!

He's One!!

This Little Bear turns One today!!!

Aunt Christy loves you Peter Bear!!