Ahh, another day, another rotation down. Done with Medicine, which was surprisingly my favorite rotation so far despite not having the sick hours of Psychiatry. Anywho, I fucked up the test and will be lucky to end up with a high-pass, and therefore I don't care enough to write much here today.
Instead, here's some Akshay-Approved entertainment. Enjoy bitches:
Street Fighter: The Later Years (Greatest show ever.)
Episode 1:
http://www.collegehumor.com/video:1711287
Episode 2:
http://www.collegehumor.com/video:1727058
Episode 3:
http://www.collegehumor.com/video:1732680
Episode 4:
http://www.collegehumor.com/video:1774305
Episode 5:
http://www.collegehumor.com/video:1781561
Episode 6:
http://www.collegehumor.com/video:1790841
Super Mario Bros: The Later Years
http://www.collegehumor.com/video:1757486
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Thursday, September 27, 2007
The Boobs-to-Brains Ratio
Listen up, kiddies. Every now and then I'm gonna drop some knowledge on yo' ass. I don't mean how to stop bleeding and intubate a dying patient, any doctor can teach you that. No, I mean those unchangeable rules and universal truths that govern our Akshay-Approved world.
Today: the boobs-to-brains ratio.
Ladies, this is basically a lesson for you, so listen up. Women have a lot of characteristics that we men (and some women, God bless them) really like. Among the top 2 for me are boobs and brains. Tits and wits. Racks and....well, you get the idea. I love a smart girl who can actually carry a conversation about something deeper than the latest Gossip Girl episode...someone who can have a heated debate, think abstractly, and be creative. In a nutshell, someone I don't constantly have to dumb myself down for. On the other hand, I love a girl with a good, firm pair of love-jugs.
Now then, the ratio.
Have you ever wondered why we get letter grades in school? Not "outstanding," or "needs improvement," or something that would actually make sense, but "B." Really, what the fuck does "B" tell you?
At the same time, shirts cum in "small," "medium," and "large." Makes sense. Womens' dresses cum in "size 2," "size 6," "size 14." Still basically makes sense. Bras? "Yeah babe, those tits need a C." What the fuck does C mean?
Those of you with the kind of brains I like are probably seeing where this is going. You gotta have SOMETHING going for you, ladies. Either be bright or be busty. This system was set up so you know how smart you need to be and how hard you need to study: your grades need to be greater or equal to your bra size.
Have A-cup boobs? Cute. But you better be worth talking to, as well. Still stuck on the second page of "See Spot Run"? No problem, as long as you rack would get me safely to shore after a shipwreck. It's really that simple. A-cuppers need a straight-"A" average, B-cups need to get a "B" average, and so on.
For all you visual learners:
This girl needs to grow up to be a doctor:
This cutie just needs straight B's, she can be a teacher:
This beauty can clean tables at a restaurant:
Finally, this girl can grow up to BE a table at a restaurant. Or a chair. It really doesn't matter. If she can just work on breathing without dying, that'd be plenty.
Today: the boobs-to-brains ratio.
Ladies, this is basically a lesson for you, so listen up. Women have a lot of characteristics that we men (and some women, God bless them) really like. Among the top 2 for me are boobs and brains. Tits and wits. Racks and....well, you get the idea. I love a smart girl who can actually carry a conversation about something deeper than the latest Gossip Girl episode...someone who can have a heated debate, think abstractly, and be creative. In a nutshell, someone I don't constantly have to dumb myself down for. On the other hand, I love a girl with a good, firm pair of love-jugs.
Now then, the ratio.
Have you ever wondered why we get letter grades in school? Not "outstanding," or "needs improvement," or something that would actually make sense, but "B." Really, what the fuck does "B" tell you?
At the same time, shirts cum in "small," "medium," and "large." Makes sense. Womens' dresses cum in "size 2," "size 6," "size 14." Still basically makes sense. Bras? "Yeah babe, those tits need a C." What the fuck does C mean?
Those of you with the kind of brains I like are probably seeing where this is going. You gotta have SOMETHING going for you, ladies. Either be bright or be busty. This system was set up so you know how smart you need to be and how hard you need to study: your grades need to be greater or equal to your bra size.
Have A-cup boobs? Cute. But you better be worth talking to, as well. Still stuck on the second page of "See Spot Run"? No problem, as long as you rack would get me safely to shore after a shipwreck. It's really that simple. A-cuppers need a straight-"A" average, B-cups need to get a "B" average, and so on.
For all you visual learners:
This girl needs to grow up to be a doctor:
This cutie just needs straight B's, she can be a teacher:
This beauty can clean tables at a restaurant:
Finally, this girl can grow up to BE a table at a restaurant. Or a chair. It really doesn't matter. If she can just work on breathing without dying, that'd be plenty.
For all you girls out there who only date "ass-men," the concept is the same, either have the curves to stimulate our eyes or the craniums to stimulate our minds. Now, if you have BOTH...if you're walking around with a head full of knowledge and a shirt full of breast, holla at ya' boy.
But I urge you, don't be "that flat, dumb girl." Nobody likes her.Monday, July 2, 2007
OB-HAVE
Well folks, it's been a while since the last update, but that's what happens when you go from skipping easy 6-hour classes to required 13-14 hour workdays. I miss 1st year.
In any case, the rumors are true: I'm officially a 3rd-year medical student! (Well, until NBME reminds me that I failed the Boards.) And yes, they let me rip out placentas, cut off pieces of hemorrhoids, and give pap smears. Apparently my reputation doesn't precede me...suckers.
In all surrsness, I'd make a pretty good OBGYN. I've done tons of pap smears and vaginal exams, and TWICE a patient has told me that I was "very gentle" or "did a great job," unsolicited. And you wanna talk breast exams? I found a hard lymph node today! At the end of the day, my preceptor told me I do better breast exams than she does. Cum on now, you can't throw a shark in water and expect it to drown. Titties is what I DO.
I'm a modest man, however, and I'm not tryin' to brag just to brag. I'm just letting all you ladies out there know that I take women's health very seriously and so if you ever want an at-home check-up or a lesson on how to correctly perform self-breast-exams, I'd be more than happy to lend a strictly professional hand. Or two.
Of course, I'm still ME, so 3rd year hasn't been all flying colors. Some examples:
-On my 1st day:
Pleasantly surprised to find all the residents very nice and helpful, I politely asked an attending (who was sitting at the nurse's station doing nothing) what a certain abbreviation in a chart meant. She replied, ever so politely:
"Oh, sorry, I don't usually wear my ID out. (Pulls ID out of her shirt). My name's Dr. *****, I'm an attending. That's ***** over there (points to a resident), she's a resident and she can answer any questions you have."
At this point I was a lil shocked, but before I could mutter "Umm, thanks", she went on:
"It's ok tho, people are always mixing me up w/ other people at this hospital. I've never been mistaken for her before (referring to the resident), but I guess it could happen."
Wow. Thank you, bitch.
-In the OR:
Apparently the "sterile field" only extends from your shoulders to your waist. An electric cauterizing knife hung off the patient, about a foot above the floor. Using the cord, I lift it up to put it back on the surgical tray. As I'm about to place it:
Surgeon: "Whoa! Stop!" I stop and drop the knife.
"Back away from the body." I take a step back.
"Far away." I take another step back.
"That's it, you're done. Scrub out." Fuck.
-During gyn-oncology clinic:
I'm checking for tumors, performing my third ever recto-vaginal exam. This means, in common parlance, that I have my index finger in a woman's vagina and my middle finger in her anus. As I finish inserting my middle finger all the way in, I feel a large, hard mass.
"Holy shit," I think, "this lady has a huge colonic tumor! How did it get this big without being noticed on some medical exam?"
Because, Doogie Howser, this "tumor" is nothing more than a dried-up piece of shit. Holy shit, indeed.
This is gonna be a looooong year....
In any case, the rumors are true: I'm officially a 3rd-year medical student! (Well, until NBME reminds me that I failed the Boards.) And yes, they let me rip out placentas, cut off pieces of hemorrhoids, and give pap smears. Apparently my reputation doesn't precede me...suckers.
In all surrsness, I'd make a pretty good OBGYN. I've done tons of pap smears and vaginal exams, and TWICE a patient has told me that I was "very gentle" or "did a great job," unsolicited. And you wanna talk breast exams? I found a hard lymph node today! At the end of the day, my preceptor told me I do better breast exams than she does. Cum on now, you can't throw a shark in water and expect it to drown. Titties is what I DO.
I'm a modest man, however, and I'm not tryin' to brag just to brag. I'm just letting all you ladies out there know that I take women's health very seriously and so if you ever want an at-home check-up or a lesson on how to correctly perform self-breast-exams, I'd be more than happy to lend a strictly professional hand. Or two.
Of course, I'm still ME, so 3rd year hasn't been all flying colors. Some examples:
-On my 1st day:
Pleasantly surprised to find all the residents very nice and helpful, I politely asked an attending (who was sitting at the nurse's station doing nothing) what a certain abbreviation in a chart meant. She replied, ever so politely:
"Oh, sorry, I don't usually wear my ID out. (Pulls ID out of her shirt). My name's Dr. *****, I'm an attending. That's ***** over there (points to a resident), she's a resident and she can answer any questions you have."
At this point I was a lil shocked, but before I could mutter "Umm, thanks", she went on:
"It's ok tho, people are always mixing me up w/ other people at this hospital. I've never been mistaken for her before (referring to the resident), but I guess it could happen."
Wow. Thank you, bitch.
-In the OR:
Apparently the "sterile field" only extends from your shoulders to your waist. An electric cauterizing knife hung off the patient, about a foot above the floor. Using the cord, I lift it up to put it back on the surgical tray. As I'm about to place it:
Surgeon: "Whoa! Stop!" I stop and drop the knife.
"Back away from the body." I take a step back.
"Far away." I take another step back.
"That's it, you're done. Scrub out." Fuck.
-During gyn-oncology clinic:
I'm checking for tumors, performing my third ever recto-vaginal exam. This means, in common parlance, that I have my index finger in a woman's vagina and my middle finger in her anus. As I finish inserting my middle finger all the way in, I feel a large, hard mass.
"Holy shit," I think, "this lady has a huge colonic tumor! How did it get this big without being noticed on some medical exam?"
Because, Doogie Howser, this "tumor" is nothing more than a dried-up piece of shit. Holy shit, indeed.
This is gonna be a looooong year....
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Why am I so damn far behi- ...oh, right.
Boards studying is in full-swing and, as the name implies, I'm bored out of my mind. So, as much as I just wanna finish getting thru First Aid once (for the love of God), it's time for a blog-update. Feel like wasting some time, too? Leave me a comment here. It makes me feel all warm & gooey inside...my pants.
Seeing as I haven't had a drink or any fun for what feels like an eternity (over a week, at least!), I feel the need to continue re-living my uber-fun spring break. I might as well get the most out of it, considering it's one of the reasons I'm this far behind every other med student in the world in terms of Boards studying. (The other reason is that my reading skills are on par w/ a comatose dyslexic.)
So, being that we don't have the nightlife of NY, we're forced to be pretty creative fucks down in San Diego. On my 2nd night, we decided to play beer-pong, only like ping-pong. Beer-ping-pong, anyone?
If u've ever been next in line for a beer-pong table, u know how frustratingly long a game can go when both teams are shooting as if they're trying, by any means necessary, to avoid hitting a cup. (Holla at yo' boy, Brianne!) Well, now multiply THAT by the fact that accuracy drops past 0% when u're using ping-pong paddles, & u'll understand why we felt we needed to speed the game up by the end of it. So, it suddenly became a 7-person, 4-balls-in-play, cardboard-paddles-work-too, manic free-for-all.
Why on earth we thought getting that many drunkards involved would actually speed the game up is beyond me. In any case, afterwards I decided to take a ghetto-version of trip to ghetto-Tijuana, so I had my boys pour vodka and rum down my throat. Someone blow a whistle!
Mmm, I can taste the lovely combo now....tastes like losing about 20 points on the Step 1...
Of course, no SD trip of mine would be cumplete w/out a visit to Islands!
The next day, we enjoyed another Akshay-Approved classic: drunk bowling. Man, even tho I always had to set it up, and it always felt like ppl were doing me a favor by going, I really miss the drunk bowlings we used to do in NY. Some of the greatest times were during bowling, like when I hit a score-monitor w/ a bowling ball, and who could forget, "Rohit vs. the Machine!". I might have to upload those vids when i have time.
We also took a group-pic of all the kings of 1109. People often don't understand our reverence for 1109...it's sorta like the '60's folks, we have pictures we'll never be able to show & memories we'll never be able to properly explain from that magical time & place, u just sorta had to be there to get it.
Speaking of kings, when Bro & I are in town u KNOW a game of King's Cup is goin' down. We rounded up the cards & burrs and had a jolly-good time. After sitting on the sidelines and watching us get drunk every night for 4 days, my boy Sonny (who had given up alcohol for Lent) realized even Jesus would have been playing if he'd been there and so he joined in the festivities. Good call, Sonny. Easter was only 2 days away, anyways.
And the "King's Cup" was a metal pot, just to add some class to the mix:
"Drink up, Phan! No, u're not done yet...keep drinking!" *Sigh*, friendship at its best.
So by the end of the night, 1 kid got pseudo-gang-raped, 1 kid broke his Lent, and 1 kid ended up puking all over a car, the road, and the carpet. Something tells me I'm gonna be a great doctor one day.
Seeing as I haven't had a drink or any fun for what feels like an eternity (over a week, at least!), I feel the need to continue re-living my uber-fun spring break. I might as well get the most out of it, considering it's one of the reasons I'm this far behind every other med student in the world in terms of Boards studying. (The other reason is that my reading skills are on par w/ a comatose dyslexic.)
So, being that we don't have the nightlife of NY, we're forced to be pretty creative fucks down in San Diego. On my 2nd night, we decided to play beer-pong, only like ping-pong. Beer-ping-pong, anyone?
If u've ever been next in line for a beer-pong table, u know how frustratingly long a game can go when both teams are shooting as if they're trying, by any means necessary, to avoid hitting a cup. (Holla at yo' boy, Brianne!) Well, now multiply THAT by the fact that accuracy drops past 0% when u're using ping-pong paddles, & u'll understand why we felt we needed to speed the game up by the end of it. So, it suddenly became a 7-person, 4-balls-in-play, cardboard-paddles-work-too, manic free-for-all.
Why on earth we thought getting that many drunkards involved would actually speed the game up is beyond me. In any case, afterwards I decided to take a ghetto-version of trip to ghetto-Tijuana, so I had my boys pour vodka and rum down my throat. Someone blow a whistle!
Mmm, I can taste the lovely combo now....tastes like losing about 20 points on the Step 1...
Of course, no SD trip of mine would be cumplete w/out a visit to Islands!
The next day, we enjoyed another Akshay-Approved classic: drunk bowling. Man, even tho I always had to set it up, and it always felt like ppl were doing me a favor by going, I really miss the drunk bowlings we used to do in NY. Some of the greatest times were during bowling, like when I hit a score-monitor w/ a bowling ball, and who could forget, "Rohit vs. the Machine!". I might have to upload those vids when i have time.
We also took a group-pic of all the kings of 1109. People often don't understand our reverence for 1109...it's sorta like the '60's folks, we have pictures we'll never be able to show & memories we'll never be able to properly explain from that magical time & place, u just sorta had to be there to get it.
Speaking of kings, when Bro & I are in town u KNOW a game of King's Cup is goin' down. We rounded up the cards & burrs and had a jolly-good time. After sitting on the sidelines and watching us get drunk every night for 4 days, my boy Sonny (who had given up alcohol for Lent) realized even Jesus would have been playing if he'd been there and so he joined in the festivities. Good call, Sonny. Easter was only 2 days away, anyways.
And the "King's Cup" was a metal pot, just to add some class to the mix:
"Drink up, Phan! No, u're not done yet...keep drinking!" *Sigh*, friendship at its best.
So by the end of the night, 1 kid got pseudo-gang-raped, 1 kid broke his Lent, and 1 kid ended up puking all over a car, the road, and the carpet. Something tells me I'm gonna be a great doctor one day.
Tuesday, May 1, 2007
Fools & nuggets
Well, I'm halfway thru my last-ever set of exams...for classes taught in a classroom. But my last-ever set of exams, period? Not even clizzose.
When ppl in other fields think of the medical profession, many think "Yea, it seems hard getting into med school, then you have to take a bunch of tests, but then u cum out being a doctor." That is true, in only the loosest sense. When students apply to med school, they don't always realize what they're signing up for. A life of hoops, my friend...a life of hoops. Now start jumping.
I'll walk u thru it. 1st, to get into med school you need to take an exam (MCAT), fill out apps, get letters of rec, and interview. Then u get in (whoo-hoo!).
Med school's a 4-year program (for most of us, at least), w/ the 1st 2 years being taught in classes and the 2nd 2 years being tautght in the hospitals. Our 2nd year of med school is cumming to a close this week. We had a general "diagnosing test" last Friday, a test on the Musculo-skeletal system yesterday (which, for some reason, I thought was harder than most ppl I've talked to), tomorrow is a test on Hematology, and Friday will be the last test of Microbiology & Infectious Disease. The names of the subjects change, but really it's just the same exact cycle for 2 years...skip classes, take the exam. Good riddance.
But, after that? Well, there's the mac-daddy big-swinging USMLE Step 1 exam, aka "the Boards." And then? Next year we take brutally hard "Shelf Exams" (don't ask me why they're called that) after each rotation in a hospital.
Then? We get to RE-apply to get into a residency program...this means sending in apps, letters of rec, and interviewing...just like we did to get into Med School in the 1st place! Now we have to do it to get OUT? Son of a bitch...
As u can guess, it isn't over then, either. I didn't mention the Step 2 exams, and a year after med school there's still the Step 3 exam. Wanna further specialize (called a "fellowship")? Start applying to programs AGAIN. U get the idea...
And yea, u're a "doctor" during residency, but u get paid like u work at American Eagle (sorry, Keif...love u!). Then, when u're finally 31 years old (if u went straight into med school after college...NOT the norm), when all ur college friends have had houses and cars & have been clubbing for years now, when u have a ball-n-chain by ur side (& prolly even some mini-ball-n-chains biting at ur ankles), u make ur first real paycheck and arent' someone's bitch. Congratulations, doctor...have fun spending that money on diapers & down-payments. And since the average work-week for docs is about 50-60 hrs a week, "free time" = "sleep time." U baller, u.
My points, if I have any? Being a doc is NEVER primarily about the money. There's more cash to be made, a lot quicker, in other fields like finance & law. Remember, u're broke till u're 30. For some, it's about prestige. For some, it's about helping ppl. For some, job security. For most, it's a mix of these things. Finally, NEVER go into medicince primarily for the bitches. Lemme repeat: BROKE TILL U'RE 30.
It's a good thing I'm a simple man w/ simple pleasures. Case in point, my 3rd day of spring break. I get into sweet-(adopted)-home San Diego, meet up w/ 2 of my brothers-from-another-mother, and we rush to the most important event of the week in SD: McDonald's $1 6-piece Tuesdays! Cheers, bitches:
That's all me and Bwo right thurr:
Then it's time for vodka shots & Boone's Farm. Ahh yeah...San Diego livin'...
When ppl in other fields think of the medical profession, many think "Yea, it seems hard getting into med school, then you have to take a bunch of tests, but then u cum out being a doctor." That is true, in only the loosest sense. When students apply to med school, they don't always realize what they're signing up for. A life of hoops, my friend...a life of hoops. Now start jumping.
I'll walk u thru it. 1st, to get into med school you need to take an exam (MCAT), fill out apps, get letters of rec, and interview. Then u get in (whoo-hoo!).
Med school's a 4-year program (for most of us, at least), w/ the 1st 2 years being taught in classes and the 2nd 2 years being tautght in the hospitals. Our 2nd year of med school is cumming to a close this week. We had a general "diagnosing test" last Friday, a test on the Musculo-skeletal system yesterday (which, for some reason, I thought was harder than most ppl I've talked to), tomorrow is a test on Hematology, and Friday will be the last test of Microbiology & Infectious Disease. The names of the subjects change, but really it's just the same exact cycle for 2 years...skip classes, take the exam. Good riddance.
But, after that? Well, there's the mac-daddy big-swinging USMLE Step 1 exam, aka "the Boards." And then? Next year we take brutally hard "Shelf Exams" (don't ask me why they're called that) after each rotation in a hospital.
Then? We get to RE-apply to get into a residency program...this means sending in apps, letters of rec, and interviewing...just like we did to get into Med School in the 1st place! Now we have to do it to get OUT? Son of a bitch...
As u can guess, it isn't over then, either. I didn't mention the Step 2 exams, and a year after med school there's still the Step 3 exam. Wanna further specialize (called a "fellowship")? Start applying to programs AGAIN. U get the idea...
And yea, u're a "doctor" during residency, but u get paid like u work at American Eagle (sorry, Keif...love u!). Then, when u're finally 31 years old (if u went straight into med school after college...NOT the norm), when all ur college friends have had houses and cars & have been clubbing for years now, when u have a ball-n-chain by ur side (& prolly even some mini-ball-n-chains biting at ur ankles), u make ur first real paycheck and arent' someone's bitch. Congratulations, doctor...have fun spending that money on diapers & down-payments. And since the average work-week for docs is about 50-60 hrs a week, "free time" = "sleep time." U baller, u.
My points, if I have any? Being a doc is NEVER primarily about the money. There's more cash to be made, a lot quicker, in other fields like finance & law. Remember, u're broke till u're 30. For some, it's about prestige. For some, it's about helping ppl. For some, job security. For most, it's a mix of these things. Finally, NEVER go into medicince primarily for the bitches. Lemme repeat: BROKE TILL U'RE 30.
It's a good thing I'm a simple man w/ simple pleasures. Case in point, my 3rd day of spring break. I get into sweet-(adopted)-home San Diego, meet up w/ 2 of my brothers-from-another-mother, and we rush to the most important event of the week in SD: McDonald's $1 6-piece Tuesdays! Cheers, bitches:
That's all me and Bwo right thurr:
Then it's time for vodka shots & Boone's Farm. Ahh yeah...San Diego livin'...
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Anemia can wait
After reading the word "iron" for the 75th time on this page & almost passing out on the borrowed Heme book, I decided it was time for a lil blogging break. I gotta say, one thing I've noticed in med school (one of the many things, I guess), "smart people" often do not understand the power of being concise. I honestly think most of our lectures here could fit on one page if professors were just willing to leave out the "fluff" (ie: their own research) & get to the punchline. Anyways...
As promised, I'm going to start posting my AWESOME spring break (aka Passover break, according to my school), one day at a time. Why was it so awesome, u ask? I didn't go to a foreign country, climb a mountain, or wrestle an anaconda (unless u count my "alone time," I guess). But I'm a med student, and I also DIDN'T STUDY. And I was drunk most of the time, w/ my best friends. What can I say? I'm a simple man w/ simple pleasures.
Spring break started out with a 2-days/1-night trip to Philadelphia, PA with Shirley. Neither of us had seen Philly, or even knew anything about it, and we figured it was an East-Coast city worth hitting up while we had the opportunity. We were a little concerned that 2 days wouldn't be enough time to see the city in its entirety...Haha! Anyone who's been to Philly knows why I'm laughing at that statement.
I'm not trying to hate at all, I liked Philly, but objectively speaking, Philly is about the size of rich man's backyard. Or a fat woman's backside. U get the idea...it's small. At least the part of Philly worth visiting. It was good in the sense that we didn't need to worry about transportation (everything was within walking distance), but we also "ran out of Philly" half way thru the 2nd day.
It turns out, Philly is a kind of old city, as American cities go. There's still some pretty cool architecture up from a long time ago....prolly at least the 70's:
One thing I really liked was that Philly had quite a few grassy squares cut into the otherwise metropolitan city. They were like super-mini-central parks, and definitely seemed like mellow places to get drunk on nice days:
We hit up all the historical sites like Washington Square, Independence Hall (apparently the Declaration of Independence was signed there), and, of course, the Liberty Bell...which was way smaller and uglier than I expected. But I guess that's the media's fault, not the Bell's.
Ok, Shirley & I are fat-asses and everyone knows the real reason we visited Philly: Cheesesteaks. We weren't able to try any of the "famous" cheesesteak places like Pat's or Geno's cus they're apparently not interested in taking tourists' money and are located a bit away from everything else. Luckily, every cart on the street sold them &, yes, I got mine with Cheeze-Whiz. Gettin' whizzy wit it:
By midway thru day #2, we pretty much started feeling like this:
Overall, I'm glad I visited Philly, I had fun and I checked it off of my list. I don't really see any reason to visit again now that I've seen the historical sites. Other than those, it really doesn't have anything that NYC doesn't have a lot more of. I guess what I'm trying to say is, "Nah-nah nah-nah, our city's better than yours!"
As promised, I'm going to start posting my AWESOME spring break (aka Passover break, according to my school), one day at a time. Why was it so awesome, u ask? I didn't go to a foreign country, climb a mountain, or wrestle an anaconda (unless u count my "alone time," I guess). But I'm a med student, and I also DIDN'T STUDY. And I was drunk most of the time, w/ my best friends. What can I say? I'm a simple man w/ simple pleasures.
Spring break started out with a 2-days/1-night trip to Philadelphia, PA with Shirley. Neither of us had seen Philly, or even knew anything about it, and we figured it was an East-Coast city worth hitting up while we had the opportunity. We were a little concerned that 2 days wouldn't be enough time to see the city in its entirety...Haha! Anyone who's been to Philly knows why I'm laughing at that statement.
I'm not trying to hate at all, I liked Philly, but objectively speaking, Philly is about the size of rich man's backyard. Or a fat woman's backside. U get the idea...it's small. At least the part of Philly worth visiting. It was good in the sense that we didn't need to worry about transportation (everything was within walking distance), but we also "ran out of Philly" half way thru the 2nd day.
It turns out, Philly is a kind of old city, as American cities go. There's still some pretty cool architecture up from a long time ago....prolly at least the 70's:
One thing I really liked was that Philly had quite a few grassy squares cut into the otherwise metropolitan city. They were like super-mini-central parks, and definitely seemed like mellow places to get drunk on nice days:
We hit up all the historical sites like Washington Square, Independence Hall (apparently the Declaration of Independence was signed there), and, of course, the Liberty Bell...which was way smaller and uglier than I expected. But I guess that's the media's fault, not the Bell's.
Ok, Shirley & I are fat-asses and everyone knows the real reason we visited Philly: Cheesesteaks. We weren't able to try any of the "famous" cheesesteak places like Pat's or Geno's cus they're apparently not interested in taking tourists' money and are located a bit away from everything else. Luckily, every cart on the street sold them &, yes, I got mine with Cheeze-Whiz. Gettin' whizzy wit it:
By midway thru day #2, we pretty much started feeling like this:
Overall, I'm glad I visited Philly, I had fun and I checked it off of my list. I don't really see any reason to visit again now that I've seen the historical sites. Other than those, it really doesn't have anything that NYC doesn't have a lot more of. I guess what I'm trying to say is, "Nah-nah nah-nah, our city's better than yours!"
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Technical difficulties
I dunno why all the images on my blog suddenly became lil red x's. Kinda sucks though. I fixed the Grindhouse pic, but I'll have to get to the IV pics later, thanx for the patients. I mean patience. Damn med school.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Back to reality!
Man, spring break 2007 is over, and what a spring break it was. Over the next week or so, I'll post some of my spring break adventures here if u're interested, but needless to say, I'm not exactly jizzing-my-pants-excited to be back in the med school grind. Not to make it seem like I'm cumplaining or unhappy, I've always loved my med school/Bronx life.
But, damn, taking 10 days off of life was GOOD.
In cumpletely unrelated news, there's been a potentially HUGE step forward in the realm of treating Type 1 diabetes, using stem cells of course, check it out here: http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/life_and_style/health/article1637528.ece
In other not-really-news, I didn't get a chance to hit up "Grindhouse" over break, so holla at me if ur down. I think it's one of those movies that will really affect your soul, like Forrest Gump or Resident Evil.
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
This won't hurt at all...
The morning after a big night of drinking, which included everything from beer-pong to car-bombs, Aza & I were feeling...how do you say....like shit. Theoretically, the majority of hangover symptoms are simply due to dehydration, so, as young "doctors", we knew the solution: fluid replacement therapy!
We'd taken a bunch of needles, IV bags, etc. from the last blood-draw workshop, and wasted no time in using them.
I set up one in Aza first. We had to use a latex glove as a tourniquet (the 1 thing we forgot to jack):
A minimal amount of bleeding, and the line was secure:
I cleaned up the extra blood and Aza was feeling less hungover in no time (go placebo effect!):
Next, it was my turn. Aza did it like a pro:
But for some reason, the IV wouldn't drip:
Hmm, must have gone all the way thru the vein:
Aza put it in 1 more time, and nectar of the Gods began flowing perfectly. I cleaned up the extra blood, and felt great knowing I finally learned something useful in my 1st 2 years of med school:
We'd taken a bunch of needles, IV bags, etc. from the last blood-draw workshop, and wasted no time in using them.
I set up one in Aza first. We had to use a latex glove as a tourniquet (the 1 thing we forgot to jack):
A minimal amount of bleeding, and the line was secure:
I cleaned up the extra blood and Aza was feeling less hungover in no time (go placebo effect!):
Next, it was my turn. Aza did it like a pro:
But for some reason, the IV wouldn't drip:
Hmm, must have gone all the way thru the vein:
Aza put it in 1 more time, and nectar of the Gods began flowing perfectly. I cleaned up the extra blood, and felt great knowing I finally learned something useful in my 1st 2 years of med school:
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