I mean, okay, it's never really over. I remember our first acid-base lecture and thinking, "Chemistry?! What am I, a scientist?" But as fast as your can swing your bean-shaped organ in circles by its ureter, the "hardest" part of Cardio/Renal/Pulm was el fin. I quote hardest because, well, everything is hard to me.
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| I wish nephrology was this organized. |
I realize it's been about 4 weeks (HOW) since my last post. Which, as you know, translates to about .025 seconds of perceived time in medical school. I'll give you the Reader's Digest (does that even exist anymore? I feel old) version of the last 28 days.
1)I passed Cardio Part 2! Miracle of Miracles.
2)I passed Renal (barely)! Miracle of Miracle of Miracles.
3)I turned 25! Anti-miracle.
Much of these festivities revolved around eating to excess, which of course is pretty easy for me to do. I haven't found a place in proximity that's a whole lot better than Chabaa for Thai, although Circles in Northern Liberties is probably home to the hottest green curry I've ever had in my entire life. Seriously, the last time I was there, I kept unintentionally lacrimating and couldn't finish it because I felt like the inside of my mouth was on fire. It was so amazing.
4)In a moment of crisis and need for self-validation, I signed up for my first (regulated) USAT Sprint Triathlon, The Johnson & Johnson TriRock in Philly on June 21st. I've done those ridiculously unorganized and fun ones put on by moms and dads from Parks and Recreation departments, but in the advent of turning a quarter century and also being super mediocre at school, I decided to fill the void by registering for something where I can actually be remotely competitive at. I know, it sounds terrible and really self-gratifying. But it's true! Sometimes you need to affirm you don't suck at a lot of things. I definitely don't suck at swimming or running (biking, unfortunately, I anticipate mass injury), so it will be nice to be at the top of a performance distribution for once. God, I'm terrible. DON'T EVER THINK LIKE THIS.
5)I went a little over the top with seeking tests of athleticism and endurance. I also signed up for the Philadelphia Marathon in November.
Which is not a first for me. It's been over a year since my last marathon, and this will be my fourth. However, it was immediately after I pressed "process my nonrefundable, nontransferable 110 dollar payment" that I realized this marathon is in....November. Like fall. Like potentially snow weather. So there's that.
6).....and then I signed up for the Wissahicken Trail Classic on June 7th, the day after our CRP exam. Then I checked my Citibank charges and decided that would probably be the last race for awhile.
Since you probably don't live under a rock, I'm sure you've seen how nice and sunny it has been outside. It's crazy! There were TWO WHOLE DAYS where our weather paralleled LA's (I check compulsively because I get a lot of "The east coast is always soooooo cold" haterisms from my Southern California friends).
It's fitting, then, that I make a shameless plug here for getting checked for skin cancer. I don't do this to indoctrinate you or because I think I know anything remotely about cancer or derm, but because, hey, it's super important. My family has a history of malignant melanoma and being biracial from the world's whitest mama and the world's darkest hispanic father left me with a pretty busy complexion of freckles everyyyyyyywhere. I was getting OMT a few weeks ago when Dr. Noto Bell noticed an irregular mole on my hip (I've had it since I was a baby), but she remarked the borders and color were slightly heterogenous and probably warranted a visit to the Derm.
I feel like dermatology visits are probably really easy to blow off. I mean, I've done it my entire life. Perhaps because it seems superfluous, you really only think about them nowadays as your dealers of botox, maybe because your insurance is the worst like mine and costs you 60 dollars of a copay (!@#!@%$!@#), or maybe just because you don't want to know if you have skin cancer. Whatever the reason, if you're a older man or a young-adult female, your risk is particularly high.
Aside: The full-body screening for skin cancer is just that....full body. Head to toe and everything in between. Don't be too freaked out when your doctor starts vocalizing all the benign nevi on your butt to the medical scribe who stands right there as you're pretty much as naked as you'll ever be around people you just met 2 minutes ago.
Another fun fact/aside: According to Dr. Parish MD, JD, the most common place for malignant moles/skin cancer in women (mainly because they go undetected) are the inner thighs and soles of the feet. For men, the back is particularly common. So go once, get it over with, and slap on sunscreen. It will make you feel accomplished for the day.
Lately, I've been trying to get more acquainted with this city that is my transient (maybe permanent?) home. It's pretty difficult to do sans car, and hopefully that will change next when I finally have a set of wheels that don't constitute a road bike. Much like my everyday initiative, I've made my impetus for getting out of the house finding better places to eat. I'm still saddened by the fact that the east coast in general lacks Boba.
That said, last night Molly, her boyfriend, ancillary friend, and myself went to a Speakeasy. In Los Angeles, my favorite place to go was the Edison. The cocktails were way to expensive, the dress code was unusually meticulous, and the bathroom was way over the top. But dang, it was so cool. It was very prohibition-era, high ceilings with lots of metal welding architecture juxtaposed next to ornate lighting, and cocktails with names so long you just pointed and said: "that one." I'm pretty terrible at visual recounts so behold for yourself, The Edison:
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| The Edison: main lobby |
Here's some photos to illustrate our night, as they definitely provide a more accurate account than I could after a few Gin-Mint Mules (<-why are these so good?)
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| Courtesy: BBC Travel |
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| Ew...adorable people. |
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| Beer in your ear. |
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| Obviously we are very mature. |
Apart from ongoing preparation for our final Pulm exam, my next week's goal entails finding a Cronut that has the potential for instant-Diabetes. I have a feeling immediate chest-pain post-indulgence is probably a good marker for how great it is. I'm still a cronut virgin, and I hear Swiss Haus has ridiculously delicious croissant-donut hybrids. Count me in.
On a final note, it's Mother's Day! Call the mother in your life and tell her thank you for putting up with all your crap. Tell her thank you for making you eat your veggies, for making you feel better when you were an idiot and did something you weren't supposed to and hurt yourself, or for her unconditional love, even when it was tough love. Even if the mother in your life is your Dad, or your Grandparent, or whomever. My mom is pretty amazing. She lives in East Texas, and I only see her about once a year. She is a Registered Nurse, and a great one, which is something she pursued when I was a toddler and probably as needy as ever. She taught me how to do my taxes when I was 16, how to change a tire (something I've watched her do in a grocery parking lot a few times; it's intense), how to be a good person to others, and how to be grateful for the opportunities, time, and resources you earn and are given. She was a single parent, technically, but in my mind she was really two parents! I'm proud of her and hope she's proud of me. Thanks mom, for all you do!
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| I got it from my mama, making pixie cuts cool since 1987. |
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