Computer Clutz

My procrastinating nature reached its zenith with our laptop.

For months, an omnious warning sign comes up the screen everytime I turn the laptop on and its battery won't charge so running on plug-in power only. Since I'm the free and stay-at-home one for the last few months, I was charged with the task of getting it fixed. So months have gone by, I still hadn't done anything about it. "Call Dell", "Fix computer", etc. have had regular appearances on my to-do lists. My days would start with good intentions, but alas, something always come up or I pull-out the good old excuse, "I'll do it tomorrow." Today, I woke up and realized I couldn't live with myself any longer until this problem gets fixed.

As soon as I started, I knew why I had dreaded so long to do this. I logged onto http://www.dell.com/, and attempted to chat with a technical support geek (sorry, person). I got stumped by the first question: "What is your operating system? Windows Vista or others?" I don't know. . .then the conversation went on to about power AC adapters. hmm, what's that, I wondered?? It was a terribly feeling, not knowing what the heck is going on. Finally, I talked to a nice fellow in India who told me the power AC adapter needs to be replaced and since the laptop is still under warranty, I should get one in the mail in the next two days. Oh, thank God, it was easy as a phone call. And now I know the power AC adapter is just the black plug-in cord that connects my laptop to the wall. Why didn't they just say so??!

"Wisdom" from the Web

Here are some memorable quotes I found on the internet. My corresponding numbered responses are at the end.

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1. “Worse. The way we used to train physicians is that you worked all the time. You were on call all the time. Medicine was holy work—a calling. It was a privilege and an honor—you should sacrifice everything. Everything else came second. It didn’t matter if you didn’t eat during the day, it didn’t matter if you didn’t sleep. Now, the thinking is, if people don’t sleep they make mistakes, and if they make mistakes it’s bad for the hospital. So residents are being taught medicine as a career choice as opposed to a profession, a calling. They’re being taught as shift workers, which I think is a huge problem. When that clock hits a certain time, they have to leave the hospital.”
--An anonymous physician’s answer to the question: Is doctor training better or worse than it used to be?

2. “Absolutely. Patients get these gowns that hardly cover half the body. And the chairs are not comfortable. At the sickest point in their life, they’re sharing a bathroom with strangers.”
--Another anonymous physician’s answer to the question: People complain that hospitals are dehumanizing. True?

3. “I single-handedly destroyed an ecosystem that year.”
--an intern speaking of the amount of paper he used during internship.

4. "When you don't know something, didn't check it, or forgot -- admit it. Never, ever, ever, ever say it was "normal" or "fine". This is the cardinal sin during internship. If you do this and are caught (and trust me, you will be caught somewhere along the line), your trust/reliability will be blown and it is very difficult to get it back. High school, college, and medical school are all about hiding what you don't know. Internship is all about showing those you are working with what you don't know so they can teach you. This is very difficult since you are out of practice. "
-A physician's advice for the intern

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My responses, numbered for above:

1. I don't agree with this physician at all. Why would anyone think a stressed out physician who's getting a divorce and on the verge of a drinking problem would make a better physician? That's not a stereotype but rather an accurate description of WAY too many docs. I plan to be a doctor who (*shock*) sleeps and eats reasonably well, and yes, I actually plan to follow the very recommendations I give my patients, namely, eat healthy, exercise regularly, and decrease stress. Okay, maybe I won't be a super housekeeper and might even become a recluse in the social scene, but I plan to take care of myself during residency, dammit! And I won't feel guilty about it!

2. and 3. These two quotes are uncannily true and funny.

4. *Nodding* in agreement. Amen to that advice.

Let's Talk Shop

Last night, I drove to UPS and fetched my shoes. They are clogs, really, Dansko brand. Many medical students and other medical professions swear by them for their comfort during those long hospital shifts. I like them because they go with scrubs during call nights but they also go with regular professional pants on the days I need to wear clinical attire without the bother of uncomfortable heels. I bought two pairs, black and a reddish-brown color. They are normally $120/pair but I found a super deal at www.clogscentral.com for $98/pair plus free gift and free shipping. So far, I've been trying them on around the apartment. They are a little higher heeled than I thought "comfy" shoes would be, but hey, any boost to my height is appreciated. Hubby thought they were funny-looking, yes, they do have a bit of clownishness to them, but they are all the rave in the hospitals.

Another bit of shopping news, I went to the first day of Victoria Secret's Semi-Annual Sale yesterday. I was just 30 minutes short of being the first customers to pick at the circular troughs of bras and panties. By the nature of staying home, I can be in the know of such things as semi-annual sales, etc. Usually, I chance up VS's semi-annual sale towards the middle and end when all the good stuff is gone. But actually, I didn't end up spending hundreds of dollars at VS like I feared. Ha, their real "secret" is that their bras aren't always better, in my opinion. I have a Hanes bra equally comfy and much more reasonably priced. Also, the panties there are on sale for $3.99 to $7.50 per one?! Umm, no thanks, I'll buy mine bulk at Target. I just can't imagine spending $4 per panty?! Okay, okay, that's just me and maybe one day I'll promote myself to VS panty status, but right now I'm happy with who I am. I did buy four nice bras at VS, though.

Curls and Pearls

This is one of those stories that is funny after it happened but not while it was happening. I was out most of the day, and asked hubby to stay home and be on the lookout for a UPS package for me. I had ordered two pairs of shoes online and was eagerly awiting their arrival today. This afternoon, after a day-ful of errands, I was driving home and got a call from hubby. He anxiously informed me that a "incompetent" UPS delivery guy had failed to knock and simply posted the delivery note on our door. Aggg, I thought to myself, you were home all day and you managed to miss my package??

"Hmm, let me get this straight: a UPS guy that doesn't knock. . .you mean, he just wanted to come back tomorrow and try again? Or maybe, he loved my shoes so much, he decided to keep them? Or maybe, his knocking fingers are injured?!" I said back to hubby.

"Yeah, I think there's a consipiracy. It's about job security, this way the UPS people keep busy and won't lose their jobs." said my hubby.

Okay, I have to say I laughed about it later, but man, I wished I have my shoes!

Another "disagreement" we have is over Oprah: I adore her, and hubby doesn't. But that's one disagreement we can live with. But seriously, she's great, it's not that I watch her regularly. . .yeah, seem to always be somewhere else between 4-5pm. But she was on today while I did the laundry and I noticed her hair. I soooo love her hair! All those luscious curls! Yeah, yeah, it's probably a wig or extensions, but its beautiful so hooray to the power of fake! I, myself, was not given natural curls, so thanks much to Charles Nestle, the inventor of the perm.

Oprah in curls.

My own puny curls. The stylist in Taiwan had purposely left the top part unpermed to look natural and she thined my hair prior to perming, too to avoid the puffiness. But one day, I shall have a full-head of rich curls that will parallel that of Shirley Temple and Oprah!
(This pic taken by hubby for the intern roster at Methodist)

Lastly, notice how both Oprah and I wore pearls. In my opinion, every girl should own a string of pearls, such a pretty, feminine, and timeless accesory they are. They don't have to be real, mine are not, but Oprah's probably is. She's Oprah, after all.

The Big Day

The Big Day is coming. Preparations for it have been ongoing for many many weeks, years, really. After all, life will not be the same again and she needed to prepare herself mentally and physically. There were many many shopping trips buying loads of new clothes. “We all have to wear something.” she consoled herself at the money that’s spent. She readied her home in numerous ways, buying a new dark curtin instead of the sheer ones they had. This promotes restful sleep, she reasoned. She even stocked up on items like toilet paper and detergent, just in case they run out and she can’t steal a moment away to buy them.

She thought of the new responsibility that’s dawning upon her. She’s stepping into a new role, one that she’s never been in before, all the preparation in the world aren’t quite enough, but a role that she has to be ready for anyways. She thinks of all the sleepless nights that come with being a caretaker. There is still so much to learn, everyday will be something new and different. Those thoughts are equally exciting and scary to her right now.

Recently, she got together with a couple of friends in her same shoes. They had gone to classes together, swapped advices, and partied together in the days before the Big Day. This night, they shared pictures of their big overseas trips with each other over fruit tart dessert. Mel and Omar had gone to Europe for three weeks, while she and her husband had gone to Asia during that same time. There were many happy memories and funny stories that accompanied the pictures. “Ahh,” they all signed afterwards. They all knew it would be many many years until they would have that much time to take trips like that again. They talked and reminiced to almost midnight, knowing that there’s nothing to do the next day except for sleeping in. But those days are to be over soon.

“What day do you have to go to the hospital?” She asked of her friend.

“On Monday. I can’t believe how early I’ll have to wake up from now on.” Mel said.
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So, what is the Big Day? While it’s NOT the arrival of a new baby, the first day as a medical resident in many ways is similar to becoming a new mother. The tremenduous responsibility, the sacrifices, big and small, sleepless nights, fatigue, lack of personal time, and all the new knowledge. Yes, motherhood and resident-hood are both overwhelming. No, I’m not saying that having a child and having a new job is the same thing, but just very similar in their demands. I draw this comparison because of the many female friends around me that are new mothers or soon-to-bes. There are even a small minority of students I know that are welcoming BOTH new roles of being new parents and new physicians at the same time. As much as I want kids and moan at my delayed motherhood, I don’t envy those colleagues. One day I shall have both, kids and career, but now it would be almost impossible to me.

One of the couples in our Bible study group just announced they are nine-weeks pregnant. Their happy news is only overshadowed by the fact that she’s having hyperemesis gravidarum. She’s overcome with nausea and vomiting all day-long. I feel bad for her that she can’t enjoy her pregnancy right now, but only see and feel the dark side of things. With the announcement of K & J’s pregnancy, Paul and I are now the only childless couple in the group. Yes, there are the questions, “so when’s your turn?” I feel a little miffed at having to explain to them time and again that we can’t really have a baby while I’m in residency. I will soon be the only working woman in the group as the only other working mom is quitting her job. I suppose I feel a little jealous, not at the pregnancy but at the fact how everyone rushes in to give her advices and share their experiences. We talked for hours about how much coffee per day is allowed during pregnancy, why eating pineapple is contraindicated is Chinese medicine, how long it takes to lose the baby weight afterwards, how to combat morning sickness, etc. Well, I wish the ladies would come to my aid and tell me how I can keep my home clean while working all week or easy recipes I can manange on a weeknight or how to maintain my marriage while under stress at work. I suppose I felt rather alone last night at Bible study.

Apparently, I am practicing what is known as “delayed motherhood.” I didn’t know there’s a name to it, certainly didn’t plan on it, but here I am, one of those women in modern times choosing “delaying motherhood.” I don’t like to be labeled, but I can’t argue its appropriateness. Sometimes, I think of all the girlfriends of mine that are stay-at-home pregnant women and moms. It seems I’ve strayed so far compared to them. My body reminds me of my ticking clock each month as I lose more eggs, eggs that I’ll never get back, eggs that mark my decreasing fertility. I feel a little sad and anxious. Then, I spend time with my fellow female doctor friends, and realize I’m not alone. I called Malini this past week, and we talked about buying new scrubs and comfortable shoes for the hospital, our upcoming ACLS (advanced cardiac life support) training, etc. I’m so grateful she’s with me at residency. While I don’t have Chrisitian mentors in the medical field, but I do have some really good medical friends to share and vent.

Everything will be okay. There’s a time and season for everything under the sun, the Bible says, and my time is not yet here for motherhood. Meanwhile, I have my own Big Day to prepare for. There are no congratulatory hugs or baby showers, but it’s no less signifcant and life-changing for me.

Insomniac Thoughts

As I watched (with my newly minted LASIKed eyes) my bedside clock beams out “4:41am”, I knew I had drank some seriously strong coffee this evening. I simply can’t fall asleep! The coffee was in an effort to sound my approval for the latest study showing that coffee drinkers have less cancer. You know how when you can’t fall sleep, every physical discomfort is magnified ten-fold? My head turned and tossed and all but protested to the cumbersome goggle I have to wear in bed post-LASIK. My body heat was all but unbearable because the customary ceiling fan had to be turned off also due to post-LASIK instructions (my eyes will dry out, said the doc). Funny, hubby had Starbucks Espresso and a can of COKE, but he seems to be unperturbed in his slumber! My caffeine-driven insomnia would have been perfect for one of those on-call nights I’ll be doing in the soon future. “The ER has another new admit at 4am? No problem!” I would be energized, feeling chirper, ready to go . . .if only I was on call tonight.

Another tale-tell sign of insomnia is when your mind can’t be shut off, there are thoughts racing through my head like horses on a race track. I was thinking about the wrong things I said during Bible study tonight (I can be such a loud blabber mouth) and my future in medicine. I was also thinking that if I ever have another blog, maybe a private and personal as in my-eyes-only blog, I would name it “Journey to Heaven.” Isn’t that what life is all about to a Christian, our journey to heaven, the much awaited eventual destination? Once I heard a person say that our short life on earth is just a preparation for eternity. I don’t know if I totally accept that statement, but it is how I would like to think of and live my life. The people I meet, the ones I befriend, the man I marry, the strangers I encounter, the children I raise, the patients I treat, the family I love. . .they are all part of this journey that leads me back home, to God. Through the laughter, the tears, the frowns, the smiles, and the anger, the sadness, the jealousy, the joy. . .through the weddings, the funerals, the graduations, the birthdays, the quarrels, the vacations, the rainstorms. . .all the emotions and occasions of life are all slow, small, and sure steps to that one eventuality we will all face one day, death and standing before God.

I had some lofty thoughts of finding a new church family close to our new home. Not just a “church”, which sounds like any other place of establishment I frequent, like a hair salon or grocery store. No, a “church family” implies that I would get plugged in, as they say, I would know people who calls me during the week and hugs me on Sundays. I would volunteer in an area of ministry and have prayer partners. But reality is not so lofty. Actually, I would be working six days a weeks, and my day off not always Sunday but different every week, and I’ll be on call every fifth day. So, if I find a church, but don’t show my face, I’m guessing the “family” part of “church family” won’t really happen. Should I even find a church? Should I just focus my time on the Christian friends I have in my current small-group family-based Bible study?

If I was to be more honest and think deeper, which I apparently have plenty of time to do now, the truth is that once residency gets started, my schedule gets rolling and regimented, likely I won’t even be pondering these questions of church searching and spirtual journeying. I just won’t have the time, I know myself under stress.

I think about my life in medicine, and the specialty of internal medicine I am now bound to. The great arena that is internal medicine, sometimes referred to simply as “medicine.” It’s so encompassing, unlimited by organ systems and disease types. Except for obstetrics and gynecology and pediatric conditions, internal medicine covers everything else that might plague the human body. I don’t think I can just ignore the medical aspect of the female reproductive system and kids from now on, because as a female and mother-to-be, these topics are inherent to who I am. Professionally, however, I won’t be bothered with gyn and peds, so to speak. “Professional,” that’s what I am now. Before, I have been a professional student for many many years, but now I’m just a professional. Yes, I am looking forwarding to being a doctor. With gratitude and excitement, to be sure, but I’m not facing the future with full embrace, but with tender reservations. My heart is at home, but I’ve given myself to a profession.

I read through my resident contract for the first time today, it’s still a little unreal to me, to be paid for what I do. Me?! I’m 27 years old, and I’ve never been paid for anything I do except part-time minimum wage jobs. Well, technically, it’s a stipend, as the contract calls it, but it’s more money than I’ve ever seen attached to my name. I’ll be the bread earner for our small family of two no less since hubby will be quitting his job and reverting to full-time student status next week. I worry, just a healthy amount, about our finances. We’ll make do, after all, we have no plans of buying new cars or planning another wedding in the near future like we did the last couple of years. This is just temporary, my being the sole money maker. I am glad that hubby is pursuing his dreams. We bought a study desk for him in the spare bedroom, which can now be legally called a study room and I see things coming together for him.

So, how can I be a sojourner to heaven in light of all this? Do I continue to be a distracted sojourner? Will my prayers be just fleeting thoughts while on the road to and from work? Will my Chrisitiany be just a label to my identity? Will God be that distant figure in my head?

"If You Can Read This, SMILE"

I have never been a tomboy, never. I was never the girl that climbed trees, caught frogs, or played Nintendo with the boys. This brings up a question, why is that all the girl heroines in the books I read as a child were always portrayed as tomboys as if being a girl and a tomboy is the only natural combination to be? The typical girl heroine was tall and lanky who cared less about what she wore and was always getting in trouble because of her sense of adventure or competitiveness with the boys. That was not me, I was short, curvy and girly to a fault. I would have been completely happy to stay at home, play with my toy kitchen set or play house with my dolls. If I was a character in my childhood books, I would have been the nemesis, you know, the spoiled and snobby cousin of the main heroine. But I was not spoiled nor snobby, but the girly girl was never portrayed in an positive light in those books. But that’s all the age-appropriate reading material an Asian girl could get her hands on in Arkansas public libraries in the 90’s. My theory is that the authors of that generation were in the midst of the feminist movement and they wanted to encourage girls to consider themselves equal with the guys and to know that our options are not limited to the home only but include careers and everything else in the men’s world. So back to me, I remember crying when my mother cut my long hair to a short bob. I have early memories of myself drawing designs of girls dresses and playing the hair on my Barbie for hours. My father, while not feminist-minded, didn’t have a son as I’m his only child, discouraged those girly tendencies and directed me towards more intellectual pursuits. So alas, I grew up role-playing teacher and student and buried my head in books.

But a girl will always be a girl. . . I had my LASIK surgery today! I always wondered why I needed glasses in the first place as neither one of my parents wore them. I started wearing glasses in the sixth grade. Oh gosh I still shudder at the thought of those huge pink plastic framed thing that I picked out for myself at Pearl Vision. What was I thinking?! In high school, contact lenses came to save the day until they became too uncomfortable. Hubby took the plunge and had LASIK last June and it took me a year to finally decide on it. This past year, my glasses have become my constant accessory and how I’ve come to deplore them! Yes, I’m excited about not having to reach for my glasses every morning, and not perpetually sliding my glasses back on my non-existent nose bridge, but the most exciting part for me after LASIK is the new freedom to be more girly! In Asia, I don’t remember seeing a single fashionable girl with glasses and believe me, I people-watched a lot! I attest to the fact that there are no outfit in my closet that looks good with glasses. The very thought of wearing glasses discourages me from putting on make-up or wearing a stylish shirt. You might as well put a bag over my head. It’s as if someone stripped me of my femininity when I put those specs on. I know that might sound extreme, but that’s how I’ve felt. Is that vain? I know I’m already married, so it’s not about impressing others, it’s really about how I feel about myself. I think it’s every girl’s perogative to do whatever it takes within her means to make herself look good and thus feel good about herself. For me today, that was LASIK.

So, I was lying there on a comfy back-tilted operating chair and the words, “If you can read this, SMILE, ” previously unreadable by me, came into focus on the ceiling and I knew it was over! Yes, the results were that instantaneous. I wouldn’t say it’s not a bit frightening to have your eyes propped open by retractors and tape and smelling burned cornea no less, but overall, it was a nearly painless 10 minute experience. I felt a burning and gritty feeling for a few hours afterwards which required shut eyes and a nap, but apparently I’m over it because I’m now typing completely comfortably right now. Knowing me and my skin problems, I worry that I might have complications after LASIK, like keloids growing out of my eyes! Okay, that won’t happen I know, but epithelial regrowth can, on rare occasions, and can lead to blindness requiring corneal transplant and all that good Dr. House stuff. I did visit my dermatologist and another ophthalmologist just to make sure my skin conditions do not preclude me from LASIK. But in case I end up blind, hubby has promised to take care of me for the rest of my life, and with time, I think he’ll even get use to scooping Kitty’s litter box, so for that, I can smile.

It had me at "hello"

One of the things I brought back from Asia is lust for this bag! It's a Louis Vuitton Speedy 30 Classic. It had me at "hello,". . . okay, the bag didn't say "hello" but you know what I mean. LV brand bags are ubiquitous in Asia, atleast in Taiwan and Japan. Even the men sport these stylish LV accessories. What is also ubiquitous is the counterfeit (euphemistically called "replicas") LV bags in Asia.

I really really want one! It's the best bag ever, it would go with everything, from frompy summer sandles to an elegant winter coat. And of course it would never ever go out of style. So, you think with all those fashion sensible reasons on top of the fact that I just had the occasion of my graduation and a vow of never asking for another birthday present again until I'm 40, I should indulge myself with this bag? Yes, of course!!. . .except for the fact that this is a $600 bag (the real deal, mind you) safely tucked away on a shelf at Neiman Marcus just 10 minutes away from my aparment. Yes, it would be as simple as getting in my car and swiping my credit card. . . but, but, I realized I'm just not that person, yet, the no-guilt-all-pleasure girl that could indulge in a $600 bag. . .oh, but how I wish sometimes I was that person. . .already. Hmm, perhaps a "replica" then, that would run in the $200 range, but what a moral line I'd have to cross and there's images of dark alleys and shady guys . . . I guess I'll just wait 'til the day I can feel good about buying the real McCoy with all its full-priced glory. Perhaps that day will be when I find my first real job out of residency or when hubby finds his new job after his PhD or when we've finally shed our student staus or the day we no longer have student loans. . .or, or, maybe one day soon, I'll just succumb to my lust and buy this bag and never look back . . .

Good night, sweet beauty!

Graduation

Senior Awards Banquet. Paul, me, Omar, and Mel.

This is a good shot of my curly-do. *click to enlarge* I have a soft spot for curly hair ever since in early high-school days when I woke up at the crack of dawn to cajole my arrow straight- hair into curls with a curly iron before the school bus came to my door.

Day of graduation with Malini, my soon-to-be co-resident at Methodist.

With Mom after graduation on Saturday.
I learned that color green on the black gown is meant for physicians while a dark blue is the color for Ph.Ds, light pastel/baby blue is for education, and a royal purple is for J.D.s.

A Long Hiatus.

Pictures first, words later.

Hubby and I on the beach at Penghu island, off of Taiwan. Yes, my hair is that short now, except, it's curly, Shirley Temple-style (a.k.a. I went for the perm a few days later.)

My brother-in-law, David.

The whole family at Penghu.

Paul and I at Asakusa in Tokyo, this was where our hotel was. See my Smurf feet? Atleast the Birkenstocks kept me comfortable even if I was ultra-unfashionable in a very style-conscious Tokyo.

Our first night and first meal in Tokyo, tempura!

One of my favorite photos: hubby in jeans among a sea of black-suited Japs.

Yes, I've been gone for a long time. . .not just from blogging, but from the country. We returned recently from our 3 week trip to Japan and Taiwan which was just fantastic! I hesitated to blog for a long time after I returned, I just didn't have the desire anymore in the face of a zillion things to do in my mind. But I unexpectedly cut my finger while cooking so no dish-washing for me tonight! Sooo, while hubby's doing dish duty, here I am.

First off, I spend a few tiring days finishing up our moving process. Note to self: make MORE use of those brawny and very capable movers next time! I was definitely trying to do too much myself. Now, I'm in search of some furniture to fill out my bigger apartment. And sadly, the US post office managed to lose our three weeks of mail while we were gone! It was just too confusing for those postal people to arrange to hold our mail, change our address, and forward our mail all at the same time. I got a call from the hospital saying that the contract they are trying to send me got returned to them! Now I'm going postal trying to chase down our mail!! And yes, I'm also trying to schedule a LASIK surgery, wisdom teeth surgery, and cook, clean, shop, and play with the cat all at the same time. Speaking of Kitty, she was very well taken care of by Kimberly, our catsitter. She's had her bumpy moments with all the moving, beinig left alone, and a new apartment. We've transformed her into a full-time indoor-only cat. She needs frequent TLC and regular periods of active play and seems to be doing okay. Did I mention I graduated this past Saturday?

Some memorable moments of our trip:

1. Walking tours of Tokyo with Robert and Lieu.

2. Finding what must have been the only cherry tree with blossoms left in Tokyo! We had just missed the cherry blossoms season.

3. Waking up at 5am to visit the Tsukiji Fish Market and having the best sushi ever for breakfast.

4. People-watching: the very beautiful and stylish Japanese girls/women. You won't catch even one without their high heels and LV handbags. As for me, I wore my Birkenstocks everywhere, and yes, I looked like I had Smurf feet.

5. Meeting my mother-in-law. I didn't know what to expect, hubby hasn't seen her for 15 years. Well, she was super! She cooked lobsters and crabs for us, made fresh fruit juices in the mornings, took me to get my hair cut and styled, and just all in all endeared herself to me. And when I came back, she sent me some Korean mini-series DVDs that I've come to love in Taiwan. It's not that the things she did for me that were meaningful, but it was her thoughtfulness that touched me. I have never met her before, but she opened up to me and loved me right away. . .here was me, not able to call her "ma" and not pushing myself even a bit, I was waiting, waiting to see if I could or would love her. . .

6. Visiting Penghu island with the whole family: a day at sea, getting sunburned because not one of us managed to remember sunscreen, eating sashimi on the boat, sleeping in hammocks after lunch, and devouring a whole bushel of oysters at night.

Okay, there were "bad" memories, too. I was ruthlessly bitten by mosquitos one night at a relative's condo. The next day, one of my arm was covered with red bumps that drew me much sympathetic attention which unfortunately didn't help with the itchinig. The unpredictable showers in Taiwan. More than once, I was in the middle of a shower when the hot water decided to cease coming. This was one of the reasons I decided to cut my long hair to a bob. Finally, the terrible motion sickness I experienced while coming down the winding roads from Alishan. I think I vowed to myself many many times that I am never leaving America again. However, perhaps like giving birth, the memories later are much sweeter than any "pain" I endured at the time.