Pictures (of wedding and Kitty)

There are few events more enjoyable than a wedding. I've regretted the several weddings we were unable to attend this past year due to school, weather, work, travel, graduation, etc. Here's one we were able to attend in Arkansas, James and Melinda's wedding last Saturday.

We are both very cheeky (full cheeks), no?




With the happy couple.



Here is Kitty enjoying a movie. . .it was "Because I Said So."

Borrrrrrrrrinnngg. . .that or I'm just an old cat who needs her sleep.

Ahh, this elective month is great . . .I'm actually getting paid to read EKGs with the cardiologists.

Perspectives

"You can always have your way if your have enough ways."

--Unknown


"If all our misfortunes were laid in one heap whence everyone must take an equal portion, most people would be contented to take their own and depart."

--Socrates


How's that to chew on, or better yet, to ruminate over?

A Look-Back on July

So here’s what’s been going with me. I finished my first month of wards medicine. It’s been a hard month. The excitement and general love of my job did sustain me, though. That doesn’t mean I didn’t complain to hubby quite a bit. Being on call and without sleep for 24 hours is the hardest because I find myself barely able to function or care at the end. By the time I reach home at end of call, I all but collapse and feel like I have the flu every time. It turns out my fellow interns had a tough time of it, too. Many of us have been working over 80 hours per week, which is the limit set by the ACGME. We had a meeting with the program director and she promptly decided to change our schedule. For reasons that are political, we are still having the 30-hour calls Q 5 days but on the days we are not on call, we can go home early, so instead of 12-hour work days on non-call days, it’ll be more manageable at 8-10 hour days.

Now, I’m on cardiology for the month of August. The cardiologists are great, quick to teach and easy-going. I’m enjoying it, so far. This month is suppose to be our “break” with no calls and every weekend off! The other intern who’s on this rotation with me is 10 weeks pregnant. It was an unexpected pregnancy and she’s dealing with nausea and fatigue. I really do sympathize with her. What surprises me, no, astounds me, is that she only plans to take 1 month off for her baby so she doesn’t have to be behind schedule and extend her residency. Yes, it can be done, but as for me, I would want to be solely mommy for a longer time.

On the flipside, I’m experimenting with wearing more fun yet professional clothes to work. I wore this black capri pants with high-heeled sandals on Friday. I actually did okay with walking on high heels all day! The cardiologist we were working with took one look at my shoes and said “hmm, fancy.” He was also the one commented on my “Tiffany” bracelet and “Coach” handbag. Yes, I had on a bracelet and carried a handbag but they were no where close to their descriptors. Hmm, try Target’s and Kohl’s. He was just teasing, I know. No, I’m not the only doctor that wears high heels in the hospital, and yes, this cardiologist likes to tease everyone.

All that aside, I have wanted to get a nice, presentable leather handbag for a long time. I have pretty much given up on having a Louis Vuitton bag. Nor am I aiming for a Coach or Chanel, just something nicer and pricier than what I’m use to. Hubby has promised to venture the mall with me tomorrow and look for a handbag for me. That is a big concession on his part, seeing he doesn’t like to go to the mall for anything!

Other news, Kitty is sick. She’s been vomiting, not eating, and losing weight. I took her to the vet and it turns out she has hyperthyroidism which means she’s at least 10 years old. We are giving her medicine twice a day for the hyperthyroidism. She has stopped vomiting and is eating more. I have given up on the high-quality hard-to-find cat food for her because she would rather starve than eat her old food. But she loves canned Friskies and Fancy Feast from the supermarket which is half the price of her old food anyways!

And finally, a shout out to hubby. He’s simply been great this past month. What would I have done without his support, home-cooked meals, foot messages, evening walks, etc?

People.

Today I learned what truly makes me love my job. People. People like Mr.H and Mrs.A, whom I saw in clinic today. On the flipside, there are people that make me feel the opposite about my profession.

“I’m going to be 83 soon and God hasn’t taken me yet, I guess he just doesn’t have room up there for me yet.” Said Mr. H, who has had his big share of medical problems in his long years including a brain tumor that was removed in open brain surgery.

Full of stories that could only come with years of life, Mr.H said, “After my brain surgery, there would be people that look at me on the streets, sometimes they don’t say anything but I know they are curious and want to ask me what happened to my head and why I have a the scar. I’d say to them, ‘my brain was too big and the doc had to take some out!’ ” Ha ha, I thought that was so funny. I wasn’t following up on his brain surgery today but rather his diabetes, hypertension, etc. He is what we call a very compliant patient, takes his meds and follows up with all his docs, and entertains the staff when he comes to visit the clinic, no less.

Another patient was a woman I first met in the ER and admitted to the hospital. She knew she had diabetes a year ago but decided not to get any treatment. In fact, she hasn’t seen a doctor in over a year. Her blood sugar in the ER was through the roof. We stabilized her and on her day of discharge I gave her my lecture on the importance of getting her diabetes managed by seeing a doctor regularly. “Since you don’t have a PCP (primary care physician), you can come to see me in the clinic.” I told her. As I said this, I hoped she would follow up, but with the population we see in the hospital, I knew it’s a slim chance. But today in clinic, I recognized her name immediately on the schedule. She proudly reported she’s been taking all the medicine I gave her and even came with a pen and notepad to jot down changes I made to her medicines. Mrs.A is on the reserved side and her expression is rather flat most of the time, but today I knew she cared about her health and was ready to do what’s right for herself.

Those two patients are bright examples of what makes me love my job. They take control of their own health and are in partnership with their doctors. When I encounter people like that, I don’t mind taking that extra step or coming early and stay late in the hospital for them. The patients are in the driver’s seat, I can only give them directions. It’s up to them to get themselves from point A to point B, where they should be. Sometimes, it’s that very point that makes medicine so hard and makes me wonder if I would have gone into medicine 8 years ago knowing what I know now. Take Mr. D.

Mr.D was the last patient that I admitted on a 32 hour call (from 8am on Sunday to 4pm on Monday). I haven’t had dinner, didn’t have breakfast the next morning, and of course no sleep. On top of that, I had all the nervousness of trying my hand at placing my first central line on a patient in the ICU that night. Before that, a patient of mine coded and after 40 minutes of CPR, drugs, and shocks, the patient expired. The whole family was there, crying and bawling, the chaplain came, we told them we did everything we could. It’s was a bad night. Then came Mr.D at 3am, a 40-something homeless cocaine abuser who had abused his heart all the way into failure. He was barely alert enough to answer my questions. I thought, “If it weren’t for you, mister, I would be getting a couple hours of much needed sleep right now instead of trying to talk to you.” I was genuinely miffed, but I took care of him the best my groggy brain and hands would allow me. What’s more upsetting is this fact: Mr. A, this relatively young guy who has no other health problems except for cocaine-induced heart failure gets hundreds of thousands of dollars in procedures and treatment, free, because he’s penniless and all the while another patient of mine who’s responsible and has a job doesn’t get the same life-saving heart catherization that Mr. D received all because she happens to work and makes a little too much to qualify for government assistance but not enough to pay for the procedure. She is saving up her money for a heart cath while Mr.D will likely go back on the street tomorrow and shoot cocaine and abuse his heart. Okay, it begs the question, where does Mr.D get his money for his drug habit?! Yes, this is the kind of system that I learned that our country has, the system that I work under. “Unfair” doesn’t seem to begin to cover it.

All in all, I choose to focus on lovely people like my two patients in the clinic. They show me that I am working 80-plus-hour weeks, sleep deprived, and bone-tired for good reasons. At least most of the time.

A Grand Ol' Day. . .

. . .is having a day off, taking a walk with hubby in cool breeze to Central Market and buying some yummy bread pudding. . .

(New) Facts of (My) Life.

1. Eight-hour work days are my short/part-time days. Those days are rare.

2. If I don't write it down, it doesn't get done. I've become a religious list-maker.

3. There is such a thing as being too busy to eat. . .or to answer other calls of nature.

4. Holidays are not an entitlement, it's a privilege. . .a privilege I didn't have for Fourth of July, nor will have for Thanksgiving and Christmas. That goes for weekends and nights, too.

5. I love my job, so far.

6. Patients don't get well on medicine alone. Only half of my job is about knowing why a patient is sick and what treatment he/she needs. The other half is social medicine: figuring out what medicine a patient can or can't afford, calling family members to check that they are ready for their loved one to come home, making sure patients get home health or nursing home care after discharge, etc.

Random Blurb

The day starts out with good intentions: I'd put on mascara, and my pointy-toed pumps that go clikety-clack down the hospital halls. By end of the day, the white coat weighted down by PDA, stethscope, books, papers, pens, cell phone, and pager feels like a potato sack on my back. My cute heels have become little torture chambers for my feet. Worst of all, I come home and realize my face has turned greasy in 13 hours and the mascara has made a panda of me!

Yes, tomorrow I go without (embellished) lashes and I wear my Dansko (funny) clogs.

Sometimes You Win, Sometimes You Lose

*Warning: Sarcasm and Whining ahead*
(but sprinkled with optimism)

I’ve got some good news and some bad news. I found out yesterday that I passed the clinical exam that I took in Philly 12 weeks ago!! Yeah, it took them long enough to let me know! I was all but convinced that I had failed, but anyways, moving on to the bad news:(.

Today was the first day of our short orientation at our hospital before our start date of Sunday, July 1st. Umm, what about church?! Church, what church?! Yeah, that’s not happening. Anyways, that’s NOT why I have bad news. It turns out that the call schedule has been totally revamped since I’ve rotated and interviewed at Methodist. Instead of the split call method of day call and night call which makes each intern have night call once every 10 days, now it’s only night calls, Q5! (Q5=every five days) That means we have a 30-hour shift from 8pm to 2pm (the next day) every 5 days. For example, my month of July schedule shows that I’m on call (30-hour shift) SIX times with 4 days off. The reason for the change is that this is the more traditional internal medicine call schedule and previously the interns were too swamped on their shorter calls so now the work is more spread out over a longer call. Hmm, during my interview, the speech was “we really work hard while we’re at the hospital, but we have more time off compared to other programs.” Now I'm hearing, “there’s too much work to be done, so we are doubling your night calls, which is the normal IM schedule at most programs anyways.”

Yes, I should not be such a complainer . . . but I will anyways because I want to vent. Both M (my good friend/co-intern) both lamented over the fact that one of the major reasons we chose this hospital was because of its nice call schedule. (I was in my 'all-about-work-life- balance' phase). To have that changed on us on the first day of our orientation is just, well, upsetting and disappointing!! When you are married and have a home, it’s ever so important to maximize your time with your loved one, and it frankly makes me angry to think that it's taken away. But you know what hubby said at the news? “Oh, that’s good news; you’re getting longer and better training.” No, I didn’t physically harm him, but I did flash a very dirty look while thinking, ha ha, that means more scooping Kitty’s litterbox for you while I’m spending my nights at the hospital!

Okay, *deep breath*, I'm done. I still love the hospital, it was good to be back there, like good memories rushing back to my head. I met some of the other interns, a nice bunch, I think. In the end, it’s all about sacrifices and dedication, and I’m ready. I just had to vent a little, you see.

One more piece of good news because I want to end this on a good note. I’ve been meaning to write about Blacky, the lovable stray I took care of months ago. Joyce, the amazing cat rescue lady, found him a forever home! Actually, I’ve known for weeks now but just haven’t written about it. I received an e-mail from Blacky’s new owners and they just love him to death. Joyce finally surmised that Blacky was a victim of animal abuse because of his scars. Also, his new owners continue to call him by my last name, but he’ll always be Blacky to me. The story just warms my heart everytime I think about it. Blacky was headed to euthanasia but by God's lucky timing, he went to Joyce, his guardian angel, instead. Yeah, in this life, you really do win sometimes, and lose sometimes and I think I’ve own more than I’ve lost.

A Game of Deceit

This game is a well received passtime that many cat owners know. We chanced upon it recently: the game of the cat chasing a laser pointer light. I bought a laser light alignment thingie for hanging wall pictures and it has since doubled as Kitty’s favorite toy. She loves to chase that red light anywhere, up the wall and furniture, zig zags across the carpet. Her speed and prey instincts really come through. It’s good exercise for an indoor cat as she dashes, jumps, and pounces. As a bonus, we often participate in the game with squeals of laughter.

Lately, however, my overthinking mind has made it not so funny. I observe my cat as she goes after the red light with such seriousness, her large unblinking eyes, her erect ears, and her anxious tail swiping side to side as her body crouches ready to make a move. I don’t know what she thinks, but she certainly seems to give it her all in both mental concentration and physical prowess as she tries to take hold and take down that red light. But she doesn’t know that it’s not a tangible thing and it’s game she’s lost from the beginning. Is she frustrated and confused that the object of her chase is always elusive and intangible? Is it us humans having a good time at her expense? Am I being deceitful to my cat?

I’m not going to stop playing the game with Kitty as long as she’ll have it, but I just have these unanswered questions. . .

Home Sweet Home

I just got back from my parents’ place this evening. I spent a few wonderful days at my parents’ home doing what I usually do when I’m home: eat and eat, watch Animal Planet on their big screen TV, laze around on their cushy leather sofa, visit Laurel, take walks with my mom, and all in all, relax. But it is sure nice to be back at my home, too even though we are sans the big TV with cable and wooded neighborhood. I’ve missed Kitty and hubby.

With an overabundant garden and their health consciousness, my parents are practically vegetarians. Have you ever eaten a meal where you chew and chew until your teeth and jaw gets tired but your stomach is not quite yet filled? That’s how I feel when I eat with my parents. Don’t get me wrong, I love their veggie diet! I ate leek dumplings, cucumber salad, raw tomatoes ripe from the vine, stir-fried squashes, and etc. all courtesy of their garden.

Also, thanks to mom, my collection of dress pants has all been shortened to the right length. My in-between leg lengths get me everytime. The petite size pants are usually just a tad too short for heels and the regular size too long. So I have to buy the regular ones and get them deftly shortened by mom or I wear the petite ones and risk being uncool looking.

My other highlight was having brunch with my dear friend Laurel, just the two of us. I don’t remember the last time I spent time with Laurel without a baby or two at her hip. Yes, she has two of the cutest boys in the world, Benji and Zac, but it is nice to have her all to myself, too.

My parents dropped me off half-way in Oklahoma where Paul picked me up. Yeah, it’s weird how I’m 27 years old and my parents and husband doesn’t agree to let me drive a 5-hour trip alone. Somehow I have a reputation of being an “unsafe driver” with them and I’ve never even given them a reason to think that way! I’ve never had a major accident and only a few minors ones that were never my fault. Okay, I had a well-deserved speeding ticket once but my Dad doesn’t even have wind of that. If anything, I’m a safer driver now after that defensive driving course I was forced to take. Anyways, I suppose when family get used to one way of looking at you, their viewpoint don’t easily change.

Hubby has been very productive while I was gone. He installed a working fire alarm, bought a carbon minoxide alarm, back-uped our trip pictures on a CD and even bought me a taser gun! These are all things I’d never think of. Yes, I know how to buy window curtins just the right color and length and I match up wall hangings together very nicely, but a carbon minoxide alarm would never enter my mind. This is why God made men and women and I’m grateful. What I’m most proud of is that he’s been dutifully scooping Kitty’s litterbox everynight which is usually my job and my job alone. This is no small fate for a man who can gag at the thought of something gross.

Back home, hubby and I ate at my new favorite Asian restaurant tonight, Bistro’s in Richardson. Yep, you bet I filled my newly cleansed gut with trans fatty fried food, yum!