Yo estoy en la cupula.

Lucia is the chief surgical resident from Spain that I mentioned a few posts ago.  Today was her last day at WMC.  We kind of became buds over the past couple of weeks.  Next month she's rotating through Transplant Surgery at a hospital in Manhattan. 

Back in June I made the extra effort to renew my NYMC id.  Thankfully I was able to do so.  So I still am parking over at the medical college.  It's a longish walk back and forth from the hospital and the medical college, but I don't mind it.  Especially if it means I get free parking!!!!  I took this picture from my car today.  Just cuz! :)

Hasta!

Yo estoy un tesoro.

Last night I tried writing a few anecdotes of recent events.  But I'd read back over what was written and there was a sharp undertone present maybe even a touch of cynicism. I'd try rewritting or rewording but couldn't get rid of it.  Granted I recognize that what I say in my head is not always how it sounds to someone else.  But this time I did not want to take the chance that someone else could hear the cynicism I was trying to cover up.  So I shut down the computer and went to bed without posting anything. 

I knew that if I was to say something it's always best to be honest.  Trying to word something in a way to cover up what you're really trying to say may fool yourself....but no one else.  And honestly, I knew where the sharp undertone was coming from.

Satan never leaves a believer alone.  He's always there with some temptation, some lie, some doubt to throw at us.  And for the past couple of weeks he's been trying to convince me that it's okay for me to feel sorry for myself.  It made me so mad.  I know I have no reason to feel sorry for myself, but I'm assuming that a part of me was giving into him because he kept up with the gnawing thought.  And it was coming through in my daily life.  A poor service I've been to my Lord and Savior lately.  I was hiding in a bathroom for pete's sake!!  I was in effect thinking only of me, of myself.

So enough already.  God is good always.  God is love always.  And where I am right now is where I am to serve.  Not when tomorrow comes.  Not after my test.  Not after the next bend in the river.  But right now and everyday thereafter.

The following song came on Pandora just now, and I thought it appropriate. "My Own Little World" by: Matthew West

....
Father, break my heart for what breaks Yours
Give me open hands and open doors
Put Your light in my eyes and let me see
That my own little world is not about me
....


So, I'm sorry there's no anecdotes this time.   But I figured, I'd better stop giving into this feeling-sorry-for-myself nonsense sooner rather than later, before I find myself hiding in the janitor's closet or something!

Have a wonderful week!

Hasta!

Yo estoy escondida.

What would you have done?

I found myself hiding in the bathroom at work the other day.  Was I being a coward?  Maybe.  Was it unnecessary?  Maybe. 

 One particular doctor at the hospital is of the most unique kind.  I don't know a single soul who can say they know him and can follow that statement by saying that they would enjoy his company.  Two of the projects I'm working on are for him.  A draft of one project was submitted on Monday.  Tuesday he proceeds to tell me that it is completely wrong, that we don't understand anything of what he wants.  He continues on his rant to give us new guidelines.  Confusing thing about these "new guidelines" is that they are basically what we had just submitted.  So....we don't know if he just hadn't actually looked at what we submitted.  Or....if he did look, liked what direction we were taking, so had to turn it around so that it was his original idea.  Twisted you think?  but like I said...of the most unique kind.  I would consider myself so far lucky, as he hasn't actually yelled at me yet.  But I'm starting to get the feeling of walking on thin ice as I'm approaching 2 months and leaving that grace period of being "new". When I leave my office I actually walk right past his door.  There is a bathroom there, but I typically walk down the hall a bit to the next one, not sure if he'd be okay with the idea of someone else using "his" bathroom. And that's where I found myself.  A door slams shut and then he starts talking "at" his secretary in his usual manner, and I waited.  I waited until I heard him leave the building.  And then emerged.  His secretary, who had seen me originally enter, tried not to laugh.  But neither of us could help it and in the end we both laughed.  She didn't blame me.  No one would blame me.  I've seen people turn around walk in the opposite direction when he's approaching. 
But....would Jesus have hidden in the bathroom?  I think not.

If I learn anything this year, I pray it has to do with overcoming cowardice.  With survival.  With loving everyone equal.  With.....the list can go on and on.  I have a lot to learn.

Hasta!

Yo estoy cansada.

I'm tired. I think I could lay down on my bed and wake up tomorrow morning.  And yet the clock says 6:30.  Can I really keep my eyes open to study 4 more hours I wonder?

And so I procrastinate.  I'm not gonna learn anything like this.  But sometimes the brain just shuts down and I have to give it a chance to recharge.  
....at least that's what I tell myself.

One story:
This morning when I got down to medical records, I had the typical 'hello' 'how are you' verbal exchange with Maureen (another regular down in med records).  She ended the exchange by telling me "they're in rare form today!"  'They' being the medical record employees.  And 'rare form' being that the random conversations we are privileged to overhear while sitting at our table were on a whole other level of random today!  Example: The other day someone from Pathology kept calling looking for a dead body. #1  How do you lose a dead body?!?!  (That was my thinking)  and #2 If you do manage to somehow lose said body...why are you calling Health Information.  No bodies here.  Maybe try the morgue!?!?! (Paraphrasing the employee who answered their many phone calls)

One picture:

Sammy sits outside my door sometimes.  I'm surmising that the previous tenant was much more welcoming than I am to Sammy.  I'd love to let Sammy in.  But one thought is stopping me.  What if apt 1 wonders where he is, and goes on a rampage thinking that someone has shot his cat!?!?!?!   So I keep the door closed.

Hasta!

Yo estoy regociandome.

Sunday evening I pulled up to the Deerhaunt and all of my neighbors were gone.  It hit me as kind of sad. 

At the hospital, Lucia is a visiting surgical chief resident from Spain!  Get to use some espanish now and then!

I got home today, and walked into the apartment to a distinct unpleasant odor.  Kind of like the faint smell of urine.  Two minutes latter, apartment 5 got home and stopped by to inform me that yesterday two dead skunks were discovered under his apartment.  He just wanted to let me know in case I could still smell it and I wouldn't be wondering.  I thanked him very much!

I want to give a shout out to one Heidi B.  She designed the footprint favicon you can see by my blog title in the page tab!!  She's pretty cool.  Helps keep me humble to ask her about her latest web design projects, etc.  I try not to get lost, but inevitably clarification must be provided.

Hasta!

Yo estoy caliente.

I couldn't do it.  As much as I'd like to think I'm tough; that I can handle it.  I had to give up.  Over the past couple of days the warmth has repeatedly succeeded in wrapping me up and putting me to sleep.  Not even caffeine can combat an impending heat coma when you start to head bob. 

I'd like to blame it on winter.  I've readjusted.  Now I can't handle 90 degrees.  Sad. Sad.  But there's a burning thought I have that makes me start to wonder if something is wrong.  That it's more than just cold intolerance and heat intolerance.  But rather a pathological inability to self temperature regulate.  I'd be sitting in my apartment, and noticing the temperature rising.  My skin would start to burn like I had a fever or something.  But I wouldn't start to sweat.   It got to the point that I knew I should be sweating, and wishing that I would just so that I could turn the fan on myself and cool down.   But no.  Instead I'd just fall asleep. 

So like I said, I gave up.  I'm a wimp.  There's a heat advisory in New York this weekend.  I packed up and came to CT, and air conditioning.  Granted now I'm cold, but that's what blankets are for!  At least I'll be able to study without falling asleep.

In other news, I'm trying to ignore the fact that it's July.  ERAS opened July 1. (electronic residency application service - I'm guessing that's what it means).  And I didn't even realize it until July 2.  A year ago I was on the ball, ready to go!  I was online July 1 registering, eager for what lay ahead.  But all that did was succeed in making it a very very long year.  And to be honest, I'm not all that eager to jump back into it again.  Sigh!  I'll get around to it...eventually.  Yayyyyyyyyyy! (trying to psych myself up.....it's not working.)

Hasta!

Yo estoy ensenando.

I thought I'd eventually get the hang of this research thing.  It's been a whole month and yet I drive to the hospital every morning not having a clue what I'm going to be doing that day.  Keeps things interesting!

On Friday, Dr. Blood had me sit in while he "interviewed" a med student who wants to help with research.  Then this morning after M&M (morbidity&mortality) Dr. Blood had to leave for the day so gave me the student's phone number telling me to meet up with him and tell him what to do.  "Sure, Dr. Blood!  No problem!"  I did not go on to remind him that there has yet been anyone to actually tell me what to do.  Eventually met up with the student in medical records and got him started.  And a bit of a rough start it was.  Every two seconds he was asking me another question.  I'll admit it, I started losing patience.  But caught myself, and chided myself remembering that I too would have appreciated someone to whom I could have asked questions on my first chart as well.

The front clerk in med records is super helpful, and today I needed to solicit some of his help.  Unfortunately, I started the conversation with..."I have a message for you from Dr. Blood."  He busted up laughing.  Whoops!   And that's why Dr. Blood introduces himself as Vinny to everyone.

One of the projects I'm working on is looking at penetrating cardiac injuries.  Today I came across the second case in the study of a nail gun to the left chest.  Really people?!?! a nail gun?!?!  Both had been suicide attempts.  One patient was incarcerated and so I can understand a nail gun being his only option.  But the other one?!?!  There's hand guns, shotguns, daggers, carving knives.  There's even swords out there.  But this guy takes the effort to put multiple nails in his chest, none of course creating the intended result.  If you can find the strength to do something like that, then you're stronger than you think, and I just don't understand why you even attempted in the first place.

Hasta!