Piles of Paper and Mountains of Gratitude

Can you tell that it's my mini-vacation right now (break between summer and fall quarter, and relatively few shifts at work), and I actually have time to do things like blog? And sleep, and read, and hike, and breathe? Yeah, it's awesome. Today, I decided to do something not especially fun or crazy or festive, but highly necessary, namely organize the insanity that is my desk. Seriously, why do I have so much stuff? Especially so many papers? What are they? Where did they come from? Why did I ever think that keeping 90% of them was even remotely a good idea? I've been working on it for over two hours and still have barely made a dent.

But anyway . . . that's not the point. The point is . . .

While cleaning, I found two lovely letters from friends that I'd forgotten I had. I read through them again, and was freshly touched by them. One was a Christmas card, and one was a just-because letter, and both were full of kind words and affection. Both letters made reference to me someday becoming a "world-famous doctor," which meant a lot to me. To be honest, I'm sure I'll never be world famous, and I'll be perfectly happy just to be a clinically skilled doctor who makes a real difference to her patients and is pleasant to work with as a colleague. But it is absolutely wonderful to be reminded that people who are important to me believe I can accomplish my goals. There's so many days when I don't believe it myself -- the days I screw up, oversleep, don't study enough, don't score high enough, don't feel like I'm trying hard enough, etc . . . that hearing (well, reading, actually) someone else say, unprompted, that they think I can do this, just makes me so happy.

And it's not just the two people who wrote those letters, either. I have so many people in my life who believe in me and support me, and I am so grateful for that.

Thank you for your faith in me, guys. I will do my best to never disappoint you.

*Hugs*

Free Knife with Purchase, or, Beatrice and Chloe go to Wallace Falls

One of my goals for this summer is to go on as many hiking/camping/Anderson Island trips as I can. I feel like even after living in the Northwest for nearly three years, I haven't taken advantage of the many outdoorsy opportunities available. I love hiking, I just never seem to have/make time. But anyway, in the spirit of that, Chloe and I headed out to Wallace Falls today, piloted by the dubiously trusty Rufus, who mercifully handled the journey very well.

It was a pretty drive, and not that long, although we did add on a little extra time when we decided to assume we knew better than the Mapquest directions, and also did not stop to consider that "First Street" is actually one of the most common street names in America, and there might in fact be more than one. Yeah, that was cool. But what was even cooler was when we were passing through the thriving metropolis of Startup, Washington, and we saw a sign for a garage sale advertising "Free Knife With Purchase." We were laughing too hard and driving too fast to stop and take a photo, but personally it was my favorite part of the trip.

We had another adventure finding parking . . . Wallace Falls is a popular spot and we got there past noon, so the parking lot was full, but a cheerful park ranger informed me that I could park on the side of the road past a certain point. But because there is no justice in the world, all the nice, flat possible parking spaces were marked with giant "No Parking" signs, and once I got to the okay-to-park zone, the theme seemed to be "enjoy parking here in this ditch!" We ended up with the car tilted at what felt like a 90-degree angle (but probably wasn't, since, you know, that's not physically possible) and with me having to actively climb out of the car, but Chloe basically falling out.

Anyway, after our driving and parking adventures, we had a really nice hike. I learned about a lot of Northwesty animals that I didn't know about before: corn snakes, almond bugs, banana slugs. And the waterfalls were beautiful! It was definitely a reminder to me of how not burly I am; we hiked a total of 2.1 miles each way, and it was rated as "moderate difficulty" in my hiking book, but I was definitely red and sweaty and totally worn out by the time we reached the waterfall. Well, it's just a good reason to go on more hikes and increase my burliness level!

"I can't solve the world's problems . . . but if you've got broken people, you put them back together. That just makes sense to me."

I saw the movie Living in Emergency, about Doctors without Borders today, and it was as excellent as I had guessed it would be. I first became aware of the movie yesterday, while driving home from Trader Joe's with Chloe. We drove past the Neptune, and the sign outside had the movie's full title, Living in Emergency: Stories of Doctors without Borders. Being the complete and utter medical dork that I am, I got all excited and pointed and said "Hey Chloe, look! Look at that!!" I may have literally stopped the car. I believe her response was something like "That's awesome . . . uh, the light's green."

Anyway, today the delightful Flannery agreed to go see it with me. It's a documentary that follows four doctors to Liberia and the Congo on their missions with MSF. There's some really amazing footage, from a medical point of view; one patient featured is this woman with a hernia so huge it literally looks like a second abdomen. Some of the medical footage is really intense, if you have issues with blood I definitely wouldn't recommend it; there's one scene where you actually watch a leg amputation, and another where you see close-up as the doctors trim off infected portions of a bowel and then put the rest back in the abdomen.

I think for me, the most interesting part of the movie was seeing how the four doctors dealt so differently with what they were faced with on their missions. One was this young guy, probably not too far out of residency, who had been placed in charge of a 40-bed hospital out in the middle of nowhere and was clearly just falling apart. One is a veteran, who's done a bunch of missions, and says from the beginning of the movie that this is going to be his last one. Another was this older guy who had practiced for 20+ years before starting work with MSF, and was on his first mission but seemed to be really thriving. And the fourth one was this French doctor who was just badass. Seriously, I want to be this woman when I grow up.

Anyway, the movie made me think about how I've been getting steadily more and more attracted to the idea of working in a rural area without many resources, how even though I've always said I want to be a pediatrician, I've been thinking about doing family practice with OB, and maybe getting double boarded in ER medicine, so I can work in an area like that. And I really think I want to try to do at least one mission with MSF in my life. I'm not sure what it is about it that I feel so drawn to. I think part of it is the idea of helping people who really, truly need help and would not be getting it if I weren't there. I think that's most of it. But then of course, there's also a more selfish level. When I went to Ephrata for HCASB this year, there were four doctors in the whole town, who saw patients in clinic and covered the ER. Those four guys run the show in that little town, and every day they get to see and do things that no single doctor, especially not a family practice doctor, in a big city is going to get to do. Something about that, about getting to be in charge and autonomous like that, really appeals to me. I mentioned that to one of the docs I work with once, and he smiled and said "Let's see if you still feel that way when it's you on the line . . . it's a lot different when you're not just watching." And he has a point. I have no idea if I'm cut out for that kind of work, especially the MSF part of it. I have no idea how much I can handle, or really even what I can handle. But, somehow, I know that I really want to find out.

" . . . and therefore, never send to know for whom bell tolls; it tolls for thee."

The above is from John Donne's Meditation XVII, which is one of my favorite poems (do "meditations" count as poems? I don't even know.) ever. I thought of it today as I was reading this article, about the tens of thousands of orphans left by the earthquake in Haiti, in addition to the 380,000 orphans the country already had before the earthquake. That's, at the very least, estimating very conservatively, 400,000 children without parents or homes. I was sitting at Noah's Bagels eating my lunch today thinking about a) how mindblowing a number that is, and b) how those children are the world's responsibility now; that even though this tragedy happened in a country that might be far away from our safe, privileged lives in Seattle or wherever else, it is everyone's moral obligation to take ownership of it and do what they can to help. Also, I was wishing I had a huge house and a ton of money and could take in at least a few kids myself.

I do know that at some point, when I am ready to have my own kids, I want to adopt them. I know I want to be a mom (although not for several years!) and I think that saving a child from unsafe, unfair circumstances is one of the greatest good deeds anyone could perform. Doing good while also getting a chance to do something I really want seems like kind of the ultimate win-win situation.

Photo from: http://hosted.ap.org/photos/A/af50da05-26cf-47df-9976-c7a1295a7b08-big.jpg

Seattle/Oly Saturday

This Saturday was truly fantastic! I had the day completely off . . . no school, no work, no babysitting gigs, nothing. I decided the ideal way to celebrate would be getting up at 6am to go get my tires replaced. Yep, I sure know how to party. Actually, I just wanted to make sure I had time to get the tires replaced AND go to brunch with Kristine and Megan AND get down to Olympia in a timely fashion. It actually wasn't so bad . . . I dropped the Rufus (yeah, my car is named Rufus) off and spent a couple hours wandering around chilly, sleepy Ballard (I get Rufus's maintenance done at the Ballard Firestone . . . FYI, they've always done a really good job and I highly recommend them). Here's a couple of things I saw during my wanderings:

The Ballard Sip and Ship: A coffee house/post office. It wasn't open, but it looked really cute, so I googled it just now. Apparently, they serve Batdorf and Bronson coffee/espresso, as well as sandwiches and pastries, and also run a full-service post office and sell cards, gift wrap, and knicknacks. I've never heard of anything like that before; I will definitely be checking it out soon!

Carnegie's, a restaurant/bar in an old Carnegie Library building. So cool! I am definitely going there sometime!

So anyway, my original plan for my walk was to end up in Cafe Besalu, but it was too far and I was too cold, so I ended up popping into a Tully's instead. I had some coffee and hung out for awhile, and just as I was finishing my coffee Firestone called to tell me my tires were done, so I headed back, got the car, and went to meet Megan and Kristine for brunch!

We drove to Belltown and went to the Bang Bang cafe. It was excellent! Tasty, healthy, inexpensive breakfast burritios, lots of vegetarian options, but some meat stuff, too, if you're into that, and good coffee. We met the owner (well, Megan and I met her; Kristine already had), and she was really nice and friendly. Plus, it's just cool to go into a restuarant and the owner's right there, taking orders and making drinks just like the rest of the staff. Plus, she remembered Kristine on sight, which is pretty impressive considering the amount of people she must see every day.

After brunch I took off for Olympia, and spend a cozy, rainy afternoon with my aunt and cousin at RC Ridge. I've been going to RC ridge since I was a kid, but I still have trouble describing exactly what it is to people. So there's this married couple, two really awesome people, and quite a long time ago they built this big treehouse type thing in the woods in Olympia. The husband takes photographs in his studio in the basement (it's where we've gotten all our family pictures done since I was little). Upstairs, there's homemade rootbeer, soup, and other delicious goodies. There's also a shop with beautiful jewelry and other treasures, and wonderful company and conversation. The wife (I don't know if she'd like me sharing their names on the internet so I'll just call her "The Goddess" since she jokes that her husband's the boss, but she's the goddess) is like the ultimate hostess . . . she introduces everyone to everyone else, makes everyone feel comfortable, welcome, and loved, and organizes crafts/parties/treasure hunts from time to time. RC ridge isn't open to the public; it's just friends, and friends bring their friends, etc. Most of the time when we go there we don't get pictures done or buy anything, we just hang out. Today, everyone was doing collage valentines -- making collages from magazines and putting them on little doilies which the Goddess then hung on the windows. It was so much fun . . . they are lovely people and I was so glad I got to see them today.

After RC Ridge came a deliciously fattening Red Robin dinner and then I drove home. Now I'm sleepy, and happy, and not especially excited about a day of studying and work tomorrow . . . today was like a mini-vacation, and I'm not sure I'm ready for it to be done.

A Possibly Very Exciting New Plan

Tonight, I went to the HCASB participant information session, to speak about my experiences as a participant last year. I was in a hurry to get in there, speak briefly, and get out . . . I was hungry, had been busy all day, and had a fair amount of studying left to do. When I heard that a representative from Teach For America was coming to speak at the end of the meeting, I groaned inwardly. There was no polite way I could sneak out early, it was too small a room, but I had no interest in sitting around and listening to somebody talk about something that had no relevance to me. Sure, I've seen the 3838238290 signs that TFA puts up around the UW campus periodically, and I'd sometimes even thought "Hey, if I wasn't going to medical school, that'd be pretty cool. But I am going to medical school, which is 75 times cooler." Basically, TFA recruits college graduates, trains them, and sends them into low-income, underachieving public schools to teach for two years. They publish a lot of stuff about the huge disparity between low-income and high-income schools, as well as the disparities between the futures of the students at those schools. I'd always thought it sounded like a great, well-intentioned program, but, as I said, something that simply wasn't relevant to me or my plans. But a combination of the presentation this guy gave tonight and just the wheels turning in my head changed my mind.

This guy specifically talked about Teach for America as an option for aspiring doctors. He spent two years working for TFA, and is now starting medical school in the fall. He talked about how a lot medical schools are partners with TFA, and will offer a two-year deferment (they accept you, and hold the spot for you for two years) while you work for TFA.

It wasn't that his presentation was mind-blowingly amazing or anything; he talked for a maximum of five minutes (which was good, because, although I was actually interested, I was still hungry). It was just that he pointed out a couple of things I hadn't heard before, and those couple things got me thinking.

I used to be absolutely terrified of the idea of not being in school. I think I thought that if I veered off the direct path toward my goal for even a minute, I'd somehow lose momentum and never get there. I'd become a different person, I'd forget how to study, I'd become less smart . . . yeah, it really didn't make sense. Last school year, for financial reasons, I had to become an in-state student, which meant taking two quarters part time and then one quarter off. Shockingly, I did not come back stupider, quite the opposite actually. I didn't do anything extraordinary that year, mostly I just worked a lot. But I learned, lived, and grew, and had just as many valuable experiences to show for that year as I would have if I'd spent it in school, maybe even more.

So anyway, now I'm picturing myself done with medical school, or maybe in clinical rotations, seeing my first patients. I will (hopefully), be clinically skilled and well-qualified to treat them. But people need more than that from their doctor. Empathy? Well, I'll try, that's for sure. But how much will I really know about the communities they come from or the circumstances they face? How much will I really know about anything that wasn't published in a textbook I had to read? Maybe some . . . I like to think I have slightly more life experience than my average peer. But that still isn't much. But now, say I had spent two years working with children from the same type of community where I want to practice medicine? Meeting their families, hearing their stories, learning what their lives were like and what issues they dealt with on a daily basis?

If I spent two years working for Teach for America, I'd be 25 when I started med school instead of 23. There was a time when that would have seemed like a huge deal to me, but it just doesn't now. I'll be spending a gazillion years in med school and residency anyway before I'm a full-fledged doctor, what's another two? I wouldn't lose anything. And I might gain knowledge that made me more able to relate to my patients, to better understand what they need, how to reach them, how to explain things to them, etc., etc. I might be a better doctor if I do this, and that in itself would make it 100% worthwhile. Also, not the most important issue, but TFA teachers make approximately $47,000 per year. That's not a fortune, but it would mean I actually started medical school with some savings, instead of virtually none. It might mean I wouldn't have to join the military to pay for medical school. Spending two years helping children who truly need help sounds a lot better than selling myself to the military just so I can enter my chosen career. After all, the reason I want to be a pediatrician in underserved communities, the reason I even decided to become a doctor, is that I want to dedicate my life to helping people who really need my help . . .

. . . I have no idea if I will actually pursue this or not, but it's an option that is on the table that wasn't before tonight. I love having options! I am so grateful for my youth and for the privileges that have been generously given to me . . . so grateful that I have choices, and that I have time to make them. :)

Photos from: http://lobellovida.files.wordpress.com/2009/05/pediatrician.jpg and http://www.educator.com/news/wp-content/uploads/2008/10/teach-for-america.png

"When we were that young, we invented the world, no one could tell us a thing . . . "

. . . that quote is from Audrey Niffenegger's Her Fearful Symmetry, which I read over winter break. I read like crazy over the break; for the most part, I don't let myself read for pleasure when school's in session, since once I get really into a book, I often literally cannot stop myself from reading until it's done, no matter what time it is or how much homework and studying I have to do. So on breaks, I make up for lost time and read whenever I can; I believe I finished three books over winter break this year!

Anyway, Audrey Niffenegger also wrote the very popular Time Traveller's Wife, which was made into a movie. For those of you who've read The Time Traveller's Wife, Her Fearful Symmetry is VERY different, but, in my opinion, every bit as good. The Time Traveller's Wife deals with the supernatural to a degree, but the main focus is on the romance between the two main characters. Her Fearful Symmetry is a classic ghost story. The estranged aunt of two 21-year-old identical twins, Julia and Valentina, dies and leaves them her flat in London. The twins move into the flat, discover that it is haunted, and the plot sort of takes of from there. I

I really enjoyed this book; it combines the whole "classic ghost story" motif with really well-developed characters and a very clever plot, with a crazy twist near the end. Also, in my opinion, it's a huge testament to Niffenegger's skill as a writer that she can write two very different but equally excellent books. Interestingly, this book was not as popular as The Time Traveller's Wife. I didn't hear any rave reviews on it, I just stumbled upon it while browsing in Barnes and Noble. The hardback copies were 50% off and there were several left; it clearly was not a major seller, which confuses me, because her first book was so popular that I would have thought people would buy this just because it had her name on it. In any case, I would recommend it to anybody, with the caveat that if you're expecting another The Time Traveller's Wife, you're going to be disappointed. If you're just expecting a very well-written novel-plus-ghost-story, though, you will probably have as much fun with this book as I did!

Good Week :)

First of all, I fail at updating regularly. But I've had a really fantastic week and I wanted to gush about it over the internet a little.

Probably the best thing that happened this week was that I got a really good grade on my first physics exam . . . to be honest, it was one of the best science grades I've gotten in college. I usually try not to be a huge grade-bragger, mostly because the stuff I tend to get really brag-worthy grades in is stuff that comes easily to me (foreign languages, writing papers, the parts of science I happen to really "get" just by hearing about them the first time, etc.). Usually, in my pre-med classes, I feel like I'm busting my ass just to stay enough ahead of the curve to come out with a decent grade. But for this test, I worked really hard, invested a lot of time, and it payed off. And that makes me really happy.

Secondly, I found out this week that the scribe company I work for (my ER job) is starting a pilot program at First Hill, one of the Swedish campuses in Seattle. They're sending a few scribes over there to work with doctors and hopefully convince them that they want to pay to use scribes regularly, and I get to go! I'm really excited, and hopefully I will successfully impress the doctor . . . maybe I'll bake him brownies or something? Baking brownies is kind of my fallback plan for any situation that arises in my life.

Thirdly, I got a car! A 1993 burgundy Ford Taurus, that I have named Rufus. Rufus's two main virtues are that he runs, and that he was cheap. His main deficits are that his windshield is badly cracked (but even if you add in what it'll cost to get that fixed, he was still cheap), that he has leather interior (I don't believe in leather), and that the guy who owned him before me was apparently not a big fan of respiratory health, so he smells like cigarette smoke. But I drive with the window down, and I'm getting the interior cleaned ASAP, which will hopefully resolve that issue. I am so happy to have a car! Can we talk about taking the bus to the ER in Issaquah? And back? After 10:00 at night? Actually, never mind, let's not.

Tomorrow, Rufus and I are leaving for the Lake Quinault Lodge for the weekend, because my Aunt Marion and her fiance Mark are getting married on Saturday! They're getting married in the rainforest (yes, Washington has a rainforest, because we are rad), and everyone's dressing up in the theme of "Woodland Magic." I'm pretty excited. I'll post pictures when I get back.

Also, fall, especially in Seattle, especially on the UW campus, is gorgeous. That is all.

Photo from biggarphotography.com

Besalu Deliciousness

I went to Cafe Besalu, in Ballard, today, for the first time in a really long while. I'd forgotten how much I love it! My quasi-uncle Andy (he was actually my mother's best friend, they knew each other since high school, but he's like family), introduced me to it right after I moved to Seattle. He's been going there since they opened, so he knows the owner and a lot of the staff. The owner's name is James, he has a philosophy degree (random), and he's super nice. Anyway, Besalu has great coffee and DELICIOUS pastry. I had a blueberry danish today, and I also really love their ginger biscuits and nectarine tart . . . everything there is amazing. So go! They're closed for the next two weeks because James and his wife are going on vacation, but normally they're open Wednesday-Sunday from 7am-3pm. There's sometimes a really line, but it's well worth it, and also they're right next to the Java Bean, which also has really good coffee and shorter lines, so some people buy Java Bean coffee while they wait in line for Besalu (which has better coffee and infinitely better pastry).

"And what would happen to me, may I ask, if I loved all the children I said goodbye to?" (Mary Poppins)

I was thinking a lot about that quote today. It was the last day for many of the children in the prekindergarten class I've worked in almost every day for almost a year. I've gotten really, really attached to some of the kids, and it was hard for me to tell them goodbye. I think it was hard in a way for some of the kids, too, but they handled it the way five-year-olds handle a lot of things . . . by acting goofy and overexcited. One little girl spent the whole afternoon running away from me, jokingly refusing to give me a hug, acting like a little spaz when I tried to take a picture with her . . . and then right before her dad took her home for the day, she came and wrapped herself around my legs and said "Goodbye forever, Beatrice." I came very, very close to crying. I also came very, very close to making her father sign a legal contract that he would have me over to babysit, ("This is my phone number, here's my email. Call anytime. Seriously!"). The other time I almost cried was when I was giving a goodbye hug to a little boy I really love, and I guess my eyes were already welling up, cause he looked confused and said "Why does it look like you're going to cry?" Um, because you're adorable and I'm going to miss you like crazy, that's why!!

Another quote I've been thinking a lot about today:

"Never tell a young person that anything cannot be done. God may have been waiting centuries for someone ignorant enough of the impossible to do that very thing." ~G.M. Trevelyan

Animal Dreams by Barbara Kingsolver

I just finished this book; actually, I'm pretty sure it's been one of the major factors, second only to post-work exhaustion, that has kept me from unpacking at my new place over this past week. I loved it! It's earned a permanent spot on my bookshelf and on my "favorites" list. There is not a single person I wouldn't recommend it to.

The book is told, mostly from the point of view of Codi Noline, a woman in her thirties with an unconventional past, who is very uncertain of what she wants in life. The book begins when her younger sister, Hallie, from whom she has been inseparable since birth, moves to Nicaragua to do humanitarian work. After her sister leaves, Codi moves back to her hometown in rural Arizona to visit/set up care for her father, who has recently been diagnosed with Alzheimer's. Her father was a doctor and a single parent -- their mother died when they were little -- and he was always stern and distant. She didn't keep in touch with him in adulthood, so it's awkward for her to go back and see him now. Furthermore, when she arrives in Grace, her hometown, she discovers it's on the brink of an environmental crisis.

. . . that's really all the plot information I can share without giving too much away. I could never be a professional book reviewer. I always find it impossible to really describe why I think a certain book is good. I'm a Comparative Literature major, I can analyze books from here to next Christmas, but I can't seem to adequately describe why certain books tug on my heartstrings in ways that make me love them. I'll settle for sharing some of my favorite quotes from Animal Dreams:

"It's what you do that makes your soul, not the other way around."

"God, why does a mortal man have children? It is senseless to love anything this much."


"'Why do you suppose the poets talk about hearts?' he asked me suddenly. 'When they discuss emotional damage? The tissue of hearts is as tough as a shoe. Did you ever sew up hearts?'
"I shook my head. 'No, but I've watched. I know what you mean.' The walls of a heart are thick and strong, and the surgeons use heavy needles. It takes a good bit of strength, but it pulls together neatly. As much as anything, it's like binding a book.
"'The seat of human emotion should be the liver,' Doc Homer said. 'That would be an appropriate metaphor: we don't hold love in our hearts, we hold it in our livers.'
"I understand exactly. Once in ER I saw a woman who'd been stabbed everywhere, most severely in the liver. It's an organ with the consistency of layer upon layer of wet Kleenex. Every attempt at repair just opens new holes that tear and bleed. You try to close the wound with fresh wounds, and you try and you try and you don't give up until there's nothing left."


Incidentally, two other Kingsolver books that I really enjoyed are The Poisonwood Bible and The Bean Trees.

My fabulous day in Pike Place Market

On Saturday, the lovely Megan and I headed down to Pike Place Market to enjoy Seattle in the sunshine (when that happens, you take advantage of it!). We had a great time, and hit up some really cool places, so I thought I'd share some photos:

"Sisters," where we had lunch. This place rocks! It's in Post Alley, and it's a pretty tiny place, like most places in Post Alley, but man, their tomato and mozzarella paninis are excellent! Plus, it's an open cafe . . . there's basically no front wall or window; if you're sitting at the counter, you're practically outside. There are actual tables outside, too, which is where Megan and I sat, and what with being on a cobblestone street, and having a street performer not five feet from us, we both agreed that it felt a little like being in Europe. And hey, who doesn't love a chance to pretend they're in Europe


After lunch, we grabbed some iced coffee at Local Color. It's Megan's favorite coffee place, and would be one of mine, except I don't like it that their 120z beverage only contains one shot (I feel like every espresso drink should have at least two shots in it, but that may be just me). Aside from that, though, it is truly excellent. Good coffee, if you pay the extra 55 cents or whatever for the extra shot, and lots of pretty quality art by local artists on the walls, often Seattle-themed. I've never once gone in there and not felt compelled to hang around and check out all the pictures, and have more than once considered buying something (never have, though).


We went to this little bookstore in the downstairs part of the market . . . I wanted to live there! I couldn't find a sign to take a picture of, and actually didn't know what it was called until just recently: it's the Lionheart Bookstore. It has lots of used and new books at really good prices; I got a copy of Animal Dreams by Barbara Kingsolver in perfect condition for $7.50. They sell a lot of the Dover Thrift Editions of the classics; they're all around $3.00 NEW, which is pretty rocking in my opinion. And the guy who was behind the counter when we were there (I think he must be the owner) is friendly and hilarious. He calls out random things to you while you're shopping, like quotes from the books you're looking at, or, in my case, when I was looking at a journal "Young lady, that journal has a secret pocket!" The way he said it cracked both Megan and me up. But anyway, since I couldn't find a good sign to photograph, I just photographed the front of the store. And yes, that is the children's classic Everyone Poops in the window. We debated buying it and reading it to Megan's class of prekindergarteners . . . that wouldn't cause a full-scale riot of five-year-old giggling or anything.

We got some ice cream, sat by the water, and watched the boats.


And on our way out we stopped to watch these guys . . . my favorite street performers EVER. These guys are amazing; I see them almost every time I go to the market. They're an a cappella group called A Moment in Time, and they sing oldies songs like "My Girl" and "Somebody to Lean On" and they usually attact a pretty sizeable crowd.


So the moral of the story is that every day should be a sunny Saturday in Seattle spent wandering the market with an awesome friend :).

Happy Birthday, Aaron!

Last Thursday, several of my co-worker friends and I gathered at the Ram to celebrate the continued existence of the amazing Aaron Miller!


Aaron in his birthday regalia.


Yes, the Ram serves a kind of beer called the Buttface, and I find that hysterical because my inner four-year-old is alive and well. That is all.

Anderson Island and Cute Furry Animals

So this trip literally happened more than two months ago (the date of this post is an approximation, I can't even remember exactly when we went), but I was looking through photos and decided to post some from my first visit of the year to Anderson Island. My family owns a little cabin there that's one of my favorite places in the world; you may have heard me talk about it. For you geographically-minded people out there, Anderson Island is the southernmost island in Puget sound, it's technically part of Pierce County, it's about 20 minutes by ferry ride from Steilacoom, and it's very close to McNeil Island, where the prison is (now there's a charming recommendation . . . Anderson Island's very safe, though, no worries).


On the ferry ride over.


This is the one grocery store on the island, where we stopped for some supplies. We also stepped into the nursery that's next door, where we met the adorable little guy pictured below . . .


Cocoa Mo!!!!!! He belongs to the lady who owns the Anderson Island Nursery, and he's basically the dictionary definition of adorable.

Then we went to the cabin!



We still use kerosene lamps in the main cabin; it doesn't have electricity because my grandfather wanted it to stay rustic and historical. The annex in back of the main cabin does have electricity. Oh, and the painting in the back was done by my Aunt Marion; it's of driftwood on the beach.


Here's the beautiful, rocky beach, the kind of beach I think you only find in Washington.


Before I headed back to Seattle, I went to my Uncle Neil and Aunt Jamie's house and met their new litter of foster kittens! They do this thing where you adopt a pregnant cat, house her while she has her kittens, keep the kittens until they're old enough to be adopted, and then Mama and babies go back to the shelter, and hopefully (knock on wood) to good homes. This was their second litter, and it was basically all I could do not to adopt every single one of them on the spot.

Good news and bad news

I really want to finish blogging about my HCASB trip, but I'm still waiting for an uninterrupted hour or so where I can sit down and write another really long post, so I can actually go into detail about it. However, I feel the events of today merit a brief interruption to the regularly scheduled HCASB-recap programming:

I lost my wallet about . . . three weeks ago, I think. I searched valiantly for it for a few days. My friend Kristine turned her apartment upside down, since there was a possibility that I might have left it there. But no luck. So, after swearing profusely for awhile, I froze my debit and credit cards, ordered a new driver's license, and generally set about getting stuff replaced. I was set for a long pain in the ass process; there was so much stuff in that wallet! My health insurance card, my Husky card, my library card, my Seattle Art Museum membership card . . . you name it, it was probably in there. Then this morning, Kristine texts me to tell me that she was cleaning her apartment this weekend and found my wallet behind her bookshelf, wedged between some books and the wall! How it got there, I have no idea. But I am thrilled that I won't have to get all that crap replaced now. I went to work thanking God for little miracles like that and thinking that it was going to be a fabulous day.

. . . Apparently the universe or God or whatever decided I did not deserve a stand-alone small miracle and took it upon Itself to even things out for me. As some of you probably know, my aunt lives in California and lets me stay in her house and drive her car rent-free. Well, she emailed me today saying she had gotten a letter today from the Seattle Photo Enforcement Program. Apparently, I got caught on candid camera running a red light on March 12th at 10:48pm, and because the car is registered to my aunt, they issued the ticket to her. If it was my car, my ticket, etc., I would have been irritated, but just taken care of it. But this is her car, and she's being generous enough to let me borrow it, and I put her driving record and her insurance premiums in jeopardy. So in addition to being irritated, I feel guilty and embarrassed. Fortunately, it won't be a part of her driving record and will be processed as a parking infraction. She's sending it to me so I can pay it. I sent her a profusely apologetic email.

I'm pretty sure I remember when this happened, oddly enough. I don't remember the date, but I know that one night a few weeks ago, I was driving home from Kristine's and came to the big intersection of 45th Street and 35th Ave (right near the Tully's and the Safeway by U-Village) just as the light was turning yellow. It was late, there was no one around, so I just gunned through it. The light was definitely red by the time I made it to the other side . . . I had underestimated how long it would take me to actually get across the intersection. The weird part was that as I was crossing, I saw/heard something flash. I thought "I hope that isn't a traffic camera, because technically I just ran that light." I guess it was a traffic camera.

I am really irritated, though. It was late at night, there was no one around, I put nobody in danger (not even myself). I didn't even flat-out run the light (I never do that). I just cut it too close on a yellow light. If it had been a real live cop instead of a camera, I probably wouldn't have gotten a ticket.

Oh, as a side note, would you like to guess how much I now owe the city of Seattle?

$124. One hundred and twenty-four American dollars. For running a light at 11:00 at night when no one was around.

FUCK.

HCASB

Greetings from Yakima! I wasn't sure if I was going to have the internet here, but it would appear that I do, which is pretty cool.

I'm here for Health Care Alternative Spring Break (HCASB), which is a student-run program at the UW to get pre-health students interested in rural healthcare. They send teams of students out to rural/underserved communities in eastern Washington where they stay with local families or at churches, shadow doctors/dentists/health professionals in their chosen fields, and learn about what it's like to practice medicine in a rural/underserved area.

My team is four people, all girls. Our team leader is Erin, a fifth-year senior who's graduating this year and has already gotten into med school. Then there's Catherine, who's a pre-med sophomore, like me, and Stephanie, who's a pre-pharmacy freshman from Taiwan. Oh, and there's me :).

We left the UW campus on Sunday afternoon in a rental car provided by HCASB. It only took a couple of hours to get to Yakima. The drive in itself was kind of an experience for me, since I've never been to eastern Washington before. I'm a straight-shot DC-to-Seattle transplant, so really, aside from Seattle and Olympia, I don't know Washington that well. I was amazed at how much the scenery changed after we went over the pass. Basically, it's like the primary color of the landscape changes from green to brown. On one side of the mountains you've got these seemingly never-ending forests of pine trees, and then you cross the mountains and you're practically in the freaking desert! Any longtime Washingtonian who's reading this will probably laugh at my ignorance, but it still kind of boggles my mind.

Anyway, we made it to Yakima in a couple of hours, drove around for a bit and got the lay of the land, met up with the other Yakima team and got some dinner, then went to our homestays (Catherine and I are staying in one house, Erin and Stephanie are staying in another). My host family, the Jennings, are so nice. The husband, Ron, is a pharmacist at the clinic where we're all shadowing (Steph is actually spending almost all of her time shadowing him, since she's pre-pharm), and the wife, Jeri, is a registered dietician who works mostly with patients on dialysis. They have really cute pets: Jammer the black lab, Boomer the pug-like mutt of indeterminate ancestry, and Duncan the gray-and-white kitty.

We're all shadowing at Yakima Neighborhood Health Services. When I got my assignment, I was a little bummed that I didn't get to go to some teeny-tiny, middle-of-nowhere town, just because that's something I've never experienced before and I'm all about trying new things. But I now realize that the upside of going to a slightly larger town like Yakima is that I get to shadow at a place like YNHS, which is a pretty big clinic, so I get to see a variety of different things. They have internists, pediatricians, family practicioners, an OB clinic, a pharmacy, a dental clinic, a WIC program (which provides information on breastfeeding, etc. to new mothers), a walk-in clinic, and a clinic for the homeless. I'm going to get to shadow at least once in most of those areas during my stay here. I'm pretty psyched.

Our schedules are divided up so that we're all separated and each of us is paired with one professional in the morning, and one in the afternoon. This morning, I shadowed Kelli, a nurse practicioner who works in the homeless clinic. I think the most striking part about that was seeing how important it was to most of those patients just to have someone to talk to, even for fifteen minutes (the allotted time for appointments there) about what's going on in their lives right now. I suppose this is true for a lot of people who go to the doctor, but many of the people I saw today don't have a circle of family, friends, etc. They don't often get asked "What's going on with you today?" or the equivalent, especially by someone who really wants to know the answer. Oh, the OTHER most striking part of the homeless clinic was the somewhat mentally-off-kilter guy who heard that I was from the University of Washington and decided instantly that I must be a doctor (he decided this despite Kelli clearly stating that I was a student). Of course, this guy also said that his job was "tracking various patterns around the state for the betterment of all of us" so I suppose deciding that I'm a doctor is not the least rational of his thoughts. Anyway, he started telling me all about how he wanted me to "pull strings" with my "connections" to get him in to see a doctor at the UW Medical Center (psshhh, I would be hard put to get myself in to see a doctor at UWMC). At the end of the appointment, Kelli told him she was going to leave and would be right back with his prescriptions, and he said "Leave me with her. I have a lot more that I need to tell her!" Fortunately for me, Kelli said "Sorry, she needs to stay with me today," and we left. I guess the poor guy thinks I'm the worst doctor ever.

In the afternoon, I shadowed Dr. Prier, a pediatrician, which basically just re-affirmed my belief that I want to be a pediatrician. I saw a lot of physicals, a few cold/flu/sick stomach/sore throat visits, and one obesity consult with a little girl who was seriously overweight. The doc said that obesity in kids is one of the main problems she encounters in her average day, and that thus far neither she nor any of her colleagues have been too successful in reversing the trend among their patients. One interesting thing about working with her was that all the patients she saw today were Spanish-speaking (at least the parents were. Most of the kids spoke English pretty well). I never took Spanish, and could not carry on a conversation in it to save my life, but I was pretty surprised at how much I can understand, just from context and cognates. I really want to learn Spanish now, though, it seems like it's really important. I mean, the clinic has translators, but it seemed like the fact that Dr. Prier knew Spanish and was able to go without a translator just added this whole new level of trust between her and her patients. My favorite visit of the day was a mom with two little girls, ages four and two, who were both there for their physicals. When the two-year-old was getting her physical, the four-year-old was being kind of disruptive, trying to get mom's attention while Dr. Prier was trying to explain something, climbing on things, etc, so I gave her my notepad to draw on (it helped that I happened to have a purple pen today). She talked to me in a mixture of English and Spanish, and I talked to her a little bit in English, but mostly just nodding, smiling, and hand gestures. She said something to me in Spanish that mom overheard, and mom said to her (I understood the Spanish but I won't try to write it here cause I'd butcher it), "She doesn't speak Spanish, you know." The little girl looked very indignant and said "Yes, she does!" We all burst out laughing, because I hadn't said a single word in Spanish since we'd walked into the room, and had been talking to the little girl only in English, but she was so positive I could speak Spanish. Lol kids are awesome.

We finished clinic at 5:30ish and went home, where Jeri fixed us delicious soft tacos. We've just been chilling out, and I'll probably be in bed before 10:30. I could so get used to this whole early-bedtime, eight-hours-of-sleep, normal-workday-hours type deal, but I guess I'd better not if I want to be a doctor. Anyway, I shadow in the OB clinic tomorrow. I've never done that before, so that should be exciting.

Wisdom Teeth

I had my wisdom teeth out yesterday. Despite the fact that anything involving large sharp objects in your mouth is kind of a bummer, and having four wisdom teeth, three of which are impacted, removed, is anything but fun, I was kind of intrigued going into surgery yesterday. It was the first time I've ever had any remotely significant medical procedure done, because I've been very lucky my whole life, and the wanna-be-doctor part of me was curious. But perhaps more interesting than the surgery was what happened in the waiting room before I went in . . .

My grandmother drove me to the oral surgeon's office. Now, just as a disclaimer, I love my grandmother dearly; she's a sweet lady, and has done a lot for me my whole life, including taking great care of me the past couple of days. But sometimes, her grasp on reality is not as tight as might be ideal. This isn't an age thing either, just her personality. But anyway, we were chilling in the waiting room and this young woman walked in with an adorable little baby and sat down near us. Grandmother and I both love babies, so we started making small talk, and then the baby was hungry and the mom went to the corner of the room to nurse her, so Grandmother started telling me about her "spiritual experience" of the other day (she has these at a somewhat alarming frequency). Apparently, she was sleeping on the couch in her living room and woke up suddenly, and saw a "light-black man" in a business suit standing right in front of her, and then he disappeared. For anyone who doesn't know my grandmother, this might seem a little disturbing, but it's actually one of the tamer stories she's told me in recent years. I just said something along the lines of "Oh, really, well, um . . . mmhmm" or something equally brilliant.
By now our waiting room friend was done nursing her baby and popped into the conversation with, "Wow! It was your guardian angel."
Just what my grandmother needed, I thought, someone to egg her on.
"I think it was Barack Obama!" my grandmother said (she's a big Obama fan). "I think he's watching out for me."
Yes, grandmother, I thought. Barack Obama is chilling in your living room while you're sleeping. Also, please, God, when I can I go back to the surgery room and get away from this meeting of the insane minds?
"Well," said the woman to my grandmother, "you believe in the Bible, don't you?"
"Not literally," said my grandmother, "but I think it's a very wise book."
"Well, in Revalations, they say that angels are sent to those who are vessels of salvation."
Whoever comes to take me out of this room will be my vessel of salvation, I thought.
My grandmother looked absolutely fascinated, "Oh, wow!" she said.
"At least you're not seeing the shadows," said the woman. "Those are the ones you have to rebuke."
"Oh, yes," said my grandmother, like this made all the sense in the world.
What? What?! What?!?! I had never been so eager for general anesthesia in my life.

Fortunately, pretty soon after that they called me back to the room, where they had me rinse my mouth out and then got me all set up to go under. The tech put oxygen on my nose, an EKG on my chest/stomach, and an O2 sat moniter on my finger. Then the doctor came in and started an IV in my arm. The last thing I remember is his asking me "Are you starting to feel the medicine yet?" and my saying "I think so, a little bit." After that I was out. I woke up alone in the room, feeling like I'd had the best nap ever. I soon discovered I was still totally numb; my talking, smiling, etc. was far from up to par. Throughout the day I gradually got the feeling back in my upper lip and tongue, but my bottom lip/chin/jaw were still completely numb. The first time I had any pain was when I woke up this morning. It's not so bad, but the Ibu-profin hasn't helped, so I may take one of my painkillers, soon, because, frankly, I'm a little curious to see what they feel like ;).

Overall, this wasn't bad though, compared to the horror stories I've heard from some people. I'll be back at work tomorrow, for sure.

My New Job

This week, I started doing clinical training for my new job (in addition to Bright Horizons) as a medical scribe at an ER near Seattle. The word "scribe" makes it sound like my job should involve a large and fancy quill pen, but alas, it does not (how sweet would that be, seriously?). What a scribe does is follow a doctor around over the course of one of their shifts and do most of their charting for them. The goal of this is to minimize the amount of time the docs have to spend on paperwork and maximize the amount of face-to-face time they can have with their patients (e.g., a doctor who has a scribe can actually sit and listen to a patient's explanation of what's wrong, when their symptoms started, etc., rather than clacking away at the computer the whole time so they don't forget any information that might be important later. I get to clack away at the computer instead).

It's going pretty well, so far. Before I started I was warned that it could be a very fast-paced, hectic job, but clearly the people who warned me about that have never taught preschool. I'm still kind of intimidated by the doctors, not gonna lie. During one of my training shifts, this one doctor called me "Bernice" the entire time, and I couldn't even bring myself to correct him, which was highly amusing to the girl who was training me. I just figured as long as I was making a good impression he could call me whatever he wanted. It's really cool to see the different doctors with their patients, though. In particular, the doctor who calls me Bernice has an amazing bedside manner with kids. He can literally get a screaming, justifiably pissed-off two-year-old with an ear infection to stop crying and sit calmly while he looks in their ears. He does all the regular tricks, like shining the light in his own ears first, so they can see it doesn't hurt, but I've seen other doctors do that without the same effect. It's mostly just something in his personality, or tone of voice, or something else; I don't know what. Talk about a useful skill for a would-be pediatrician . . . if I learn one thing doing this job, I want it to be how he does that.

I like writing HPIs (history of present illness); it's kind of fun jotting down all the random things that a patient says and then trying to form it all into a succinct but informative, professional-sounding summary of why this person is in the ER. And sometimes the reasons are pretty hilarious, which sounds really insensitive, but if you are going to do something like punch a tree and then come to the hospital because the hand you punched the tree with hurts, then I am sorry, but my sensitivity for you is going to be in short supply. That was the funniest thing I've seen in my three shifts at the ER; this dude hurt his hand punching a tree (he was okay, it wasn't broken or anything, I'd feel slightly bad making fun of a guy with a broken hand). I was standing in the room listening to the doctor interviewing the patient and trying not to laugh. I greatly enjoyed writing the sentence "Insert Name Here is an x-year old male who presents with contusion-abrasions and pain in the left hand following a physical altercation with a tree."

Sixteen Things I Want to Do Before I Die

. . . the alternative title of this post is: "I So Desperately Want to Avoid Studying for My Chemistry Exam that I am Horribly Unprepared for and Will Most Likely Fail That I am Finding Every Excuse on the Planet to Keep Myself from Putting my Ass in Gear and Getting to Work."

Anyways, given that I've not yet even reached the ripe old age of twenty, I don't think about my impending death very often. But every now and then I do, and I wonder what it would take to enable me to go quietly and contentedly to face whatever comes next knowing that I'd lived my life fully and well. So, in the interest of turning that line of thinking into something fun rather than just something morbid, I decided to make a list of things I wanted to do before I die. I wanted to do twenty-seven things, because that's my favorite number, but I could only come up with sixteen. Some are big things, and some are little, random things. Now, once again, I'm not even twenty yet, so this is by no means a final draft. It'll probably change. It'll probably change a lot. But here it is:

1. Become a doctor

2. Spend at least a year living in a foreign country.

3. Learn at least one foreign language fluently.

4. Ride in a hot air balloon.

5. Drive cross-country.

6. Have some writing of mine published somewhere of significance. A medical journal, magazine, newspaper, whatever. This is kind of a subjective goal; it's hard to really define "significance" but I suppose I'll recognize it when I've done it.

7. Get married (and stay married, happily).

8. Have a child (or, even better, children).

9. Become a good cook.

10. Be at my ideal body weight.

11. Participate in some big athletic event (e.g. a triathalon or the Seattle-to-Portland bike ride).

12. Have a blog that lots of people read. Quite a goal for the girl whose blog currently has one follower (yay Megan)! :)

13. Become an organized person.

14. Save someone's life. Again, this a subjective goal. I don't have to be the one holding the paddles yelling "Clear!" while intense television drama music plays in the background or whatever. But I'd like to know that I gave someone a chance to live who didn't have one otherwise. Obviously, this doesn't mean I'm in favor of people being sick or in danger . . . I'm not. But, for the foreseeable future, people are going to get sick, and people are going to be in danger, and I'd just like to know I've played a vital role in helping people in that situation.

15. Own at least one cat and at least one dog, not necessarily at the same time.

16. Teach my own class of something. Anything, really.

. . . and I think that's it. Have a good night, everyone, and wish me luck on my test tomorrow.

Even blogger isn't safe from memes, apparently

This sounds like it might be fun:

1) Go to "Pictures" on your computer.
2) Go to your sixth folder.
3) Find your sixth picture and post it with an explanation.





This is a picture of my friend Daisy. It's from November 1st, 2008, when she cooked our group of friends a big spaghetti dinner with pumpkin pie for dessert. It was a fun evening, and I think this is a really good picture of her.

You're supposed to tag people to do this after you, but I say whoever wants to do it, just go for it! :)