Down the road a bit

Today I checked the mail and found a glossy alumni magazine from my highschool...As I turned the pages looking for familiar faces I realized that my 20 year reunion for highschool will correlate (hopefully) with my graduation from Medical School. It made me think of a letter we wrote to ourselves in highschool that was meant to be delivered after 10 years..and maybe there was another for 20 years later. I remember some of what I wrote, but I am sure that much of it would surprise me now. I am both humbled by and grateful for this late arrival in med school. The adventures, jobs and friendships I could not have predicted sometimes hold my attention. On other days I think of all I have left undone, unfulfilled expectations I have for life, for myself.
I am glad there is no mail on Sundays.

Sew Sleepy

 Tough to sleep tonight even though I am tired.  It could be the street-vendor taco I had for lunch, or maybe it is the back-ache from sewing.

Well, I am glad I did that suture practice clinic a few months back. It came in useful today for a fellow with multiple facial and scalp lacerations.  They needed more hands on board sewing him back up, and he was not the most serious trauma in the small ER.  So I could keep suturing him up, while other staff members rushed to another patient brought in by ambulance, who coded right there.   Two hours of leaning over a hospital bed, two of us at once suturing, sometimes three. and there was more left to do.

I heard the Code behind me go from deathly silence, to the beep, beep, beep of  steady heart rhythm, to the patient crying on the bed from behind the bag mask.  Sobbing, grateful to be alive.  And we kept sewing. And the patient with the lacerations was relieved and so were we all because we were all in that room together.  The doctors with the patient who coded were laughing, that joyous laugh, and saying, man, don't cry you  are alive, you were spared.

And I think we all thought about what we were grateful for, and the patient still covered in black dried blood and fresh oozing red blood under my needle asked if his parents knew he was there and if he could go home, and wash and change. I think the shock was wearing off, but I also think that hope and gratitude are contagious, and right there, in that room, we had just seen a dead man come back to life, and a guy who seemed cut to pieces slowly put back together.  Makes me pretty damn grateful just thinking about it.

Dog in Disguise

 My dog, dressed up as the Saltillo tile floor. Clever. He also does great impressions of a dingo.  

I wish I had some sheep (or chickens, or ducks) for him to herd because he is smart and clearly wants a job .  And I know from our childhood Collie "Gus" that some breeds can herd anything..including the aforementioned and kids too.

And it makes me wonder about breeds of people...(NO, emphatically, NOT what you are thinking in terms of race) I am thinking of something more subtle that has to do with personality etc.  I guess these inventories we are taking right now to figure out our future medical specialty has me thinking about natural leanings and skills v. training and absolute choice.

I am definitely a 'mixed breed' in the personality/medical specialty leanings area....making those inventories one thing one day and another the next!  

Dingo today, Shepherd tomorrow...

Old York

  I loved my years in York, England.  I took this picture one spring/summertime there. It is near two particularly wonderful places....

A French restaurant called "The Blue Bicycle" where every meal was perfect...and it only made it more delicious to know that a few decades prior, the 'dishes' on the menu were of the feminine variety,  and other articles of interest were smuggled up from the water below.

The other is an old half-timbered hall that, among other things, held a concert of live Tango music and dancing...by candle light.   yes, the candles were melting with the music, ah!  

Shades of Grey

White is my favorite color, even though people tell me it isn't a color.  Grey is my favorite color of cat. And Red is the only color for a really wonderful blanket...you know it is warm just by looking at it.

Any day in Medical School that allows time for considering favorite colors is a wonderful day.

Actually, any day in life, for that matter that includes such great things as homemade tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches made by fabulous housemates is a kind of holiday.

Happy favorite color, tomato soup and grilled cheese day to you all!

Art is a Lie...

.....that shows us the Truth.       -Picasso

Free Range

Cycling on Arivaca Rd, a small town on the way to Nogales.  People here have horses, or goats or cows or dogs.  The road signs warn cyclists to slow down for the cattle guards, and tell everyone with a picture of a cow and the words 'free range' that you may be surprised at what wanders into the road around the next bend.  

I was reading an article in the New York Times this morning about how if you literally sit inside a boxed space versus sitting outside of that space you will be more creative (think outside the box), the same goes if you are allowed to gesture with both hands rather than just one when considering different viewpoints (on the other hand).   I have read similar studies done before about walking and talking/thinking versus sitting still...the obvious is true - when you move, your thoughts have free range.

I grew up in a small town and spent a lot of time barefoot and building forts and playing in the hills behind our house. Maybe the lack of a neighborhood, straight streets and playgrounds helps to explain why I never understood the term 'thinking inside the box'.  What box? I thought. How do people get into this box and what do they think about in there?  It is still a  mystery for me.  All I know for sure is after a day of class, I crave fresh air and space, and I study better with a good view of the mountains in the distance.