Tear my heart open

Last night's loss to Tennessee ripped me to pieces. I have not been that frustrated about a UK loss since the basketball team fell to Marquette (and Dwayne Wade) in the Elite 8 of the 2003 NCAA Tournament. The common denominator in those games: I thought we were going to win. No, I was convinced we were going to win. Even though our football team was on a 24 year losing streak to those white trash hicks from Knoxville, I believed this was the year it was finally going to end. We were playing for everything in this game - a 2nd place finish in the SEC East, a senior day win against our bitter rivals, and a chance to play in a New Years Day (ie respectable) bowl game. We were coming off a huge win at Georgia last week. It seemed as if all the stars were lining up for us. And then what do we do? Our "Head coach in waiting" calls an absolutely atrocious call on 3rd and 9 with 35 seconds left in regulation, putting the game in the hands of a true freshman quarterback who was playing the worst half of football of his life. We have one of the best athletes in the country on our team with Cobb, and we don't even include him on the play. What a JOKE. As soon as we settled for that field goal to tie it up, I knew the game was over. UK football won't go anywhere if Barnhart really does leave this team to Joker Phillips.

I don't know why I let myself get so emotionally involved in UK football, because it always leaves me in disappointment. I need to stick to expecting the worst and being pleasantly surprised if we happen to win. That approach is much better on my health, both mental and physical. I am already wrapped up emotionally in UK basketball, I can't handle much more. And neither can my poor boyfriend, who has to take the brunt of my frustration.



PS - I find it ironic that both of my schools (UK and A&M) play their rivals on Thanksgiving weekend every year, both opponents are "UT", and both wear a disgusting shade of orange (burnt orange for the t-sips and construction worker orange for the Vols). It does not leave me a happy girl when both teams lose to these orange clad freaks, which unfortunately is usually the case. :(

Weekend in Paradise: My Dream Home

The day the super hero pooped on my front porch.

Halloween has always been one of those holidays that just didn't do anything for me. It's not that I don't like holidays, because I do, I absolutely love Thanksgiving and Christmas. But it seems like everyone these days lives for Halloween. It has become the most popular holiday of my generation. I am not here to discuss the spiritual aspects of Halloween, because that is not the reason for my distaste. I personally do not think it is heathen to let your kids dress up and go trick-or-treating, or for adults to put on a costume and go have a good time at a party. I've been known to do that myself a time or two. But there is one pervading theme at the end of all my Halloween experiences - it's just not that fun. Maybe it's because I've never had the perfect costume, or maybe because I hate going out only to find some of my friends dressed up like sluts for the sake of a "costume". Who knows, all this bitterness could be due to the fact that my favorite childhood pet, Chadwick, was killed by my rambunctious teenage neighbors at their Halloween party simply because they saw a black cat walking down the street and they decided it'd be funny to throw him to his death in the neighborhood pool. Whatever the case, I am just not too keen about Halloween.

This Halloween provided yet another reason for me to find the holiday annoying. On Friday, October 30, I had taken my cumulative final examination for my Immunity and Infectious Disease class. Having never studied for anything so hard in my life, I was absolutely exhausted and beat by the time the weekend of freedom arrived. While most college students were gearing up to go out for all the Halloween festivities, I was winding down and getting ready to catch some much needed Z's.

Ed and I had watched a semi-scary movie on TV earlier that evening, and while I was somewhat scared from it, I convinced myself that it was just a stupid movie and that I'd be fine. Ed tucked me into bed and then left my apartment to go back to his place. A little before 3 am I woke up suddenly. Not knowing what caused me to do this, I figured I must have been having a dream. As I rolled over to try to fall back asleep I heard a noise. Now let me first say that I live in an apartment complex full of undergrad students, so it is always loud. I think normally I would have shrugged off the noise, but due to being on edge because of the scary movie I'd watched, I immediately picked up my phone and called Ed. I was afraid I would wake him up, but of course my night owl was still wide awake. I explained to him I heard something and he told me to not worry, he'd come over to check it out. FYI, he lives about 5 minutes from my apartment.

I hung up with him and once again rolled over to try to fall asleep, but then I heard the noise again, and this time it was louder. I turned on my bedroom lights, thinking that if someone was really out there and they saw that someone was inside, they'd panic and leave. Well the noises only started getting louder, and then I heard yelling. I opened up my bedroom door and looked down the hall and realized that the noise was coming from my front door. Someone was messing with the door knob. I immediately went to my bedroom, opened up my back window in case I needed an escape, grabbed a wood plank for protection, and called Ed again to let him know that someone was trying to get inside. He at first told me to calm down and that no one was really there, but then I walked up to the door and looked in the peep hole and sure enough saw a guy standing there messing with the door handle. I then screamed to Ed on the phone, "No, I am not making this up, I am staring at a guy right now!!!" Well that blew my cover with the intruder, and he started to yell at me. "Let me in! I hear you! LET ME IN!" Not knowing what to do, I figured I couldn't just ignore him since he knew I was in there, so I answered in a deep voice (trying to sound like a man, which was an absolute failure), "GO AWAY! GET THE HELL AWAY FROM MY DOOR!" I felt bad for throwing the H word in there, but I needed to sound intimidating. I started beating the door and telling him to stop messing with me or else I'd call the cops. He laughed at me, which only made me more mad, and kept screaming to let him in.

After my verbal exchange with the intruder and physical exchange with the door (which probably lasted all of 10 seconds but felt like an eternity), I called 911. I explained the dilemna and the dispatcher told me that cops were on their way. She then asked me for details of what the guy looked like. "6 foot white male, about 20 years old" I answered. "What's he wearing?," she asked. I looked out the peep hole again to see. "A green sweatshirt, red cape, and no pants." Trying to hold back her laughter, the dispatcher told me she'd stay on the line with me as long as I needed or until the cops got there. I figured that it would be a good idea in case the guy got in, but then came the awkward silence. What do you talk to a 911 dispatcher about when you are waiting for a guy to break into your house? So I made some small talk. "If this guy gets into my apartment, am I allowed to hit him with my bat? Can I bash his head in?" She did not know how to respond to that, so after fumbling around for words, she said that I was allowed to protect myself if he did in fact get into my apartment. That made me feel better. I then let the lady know that my boyfriend was also on his way over to my apartment, so that the cops wouldn't beat him up if they happened to see him first.

Finally, I heard Ed run around the corner. My first thought was "Thank you Lord", but before that thought came to completion, a new thought emerged - what if Ed entered his "protective boyfriend that has way too many years of Army Special Forces training and can kill someone with one swift movement" mode? Fortunately, the stench of the gentleman intruder stopped Ed dead in his tracks. Ed would not get within 6 feet of him. The guy had pooped his pants, wadded them up and thrown them against my door, and was standing there in his underwear (not boxers, but undies) with poop all over his body. Ed told him to get away, and the guy kept saying that he wasn't going any where, this was his friend's apartment. Once Ed realized that this guy wasn't trying to break in or rape me, and that he was just completely wasted and high and had no idea where he was, he calmed down a bit. Ed tried to reason with the guy that he was in the wrong place, but the superhero was not going to budge.

The cops showed up shortly after, running to my front door from both angles so that the guy couldn't escape if he tried. But then all 3 of them did the same thing Ed did....sprinted all heroically around the corner then STOPPED within 6 feet. "What is that smell?!?," one of the cops yelled. Apparently it was atrocious; I never got a whiff of it. No one wanted to touch the guy, but the cops realized that he needed to be handcuffed and taken in. After finding a pair of gloves, one of the cops cuffed him. The guy mouthed off to the cop, so he tightened the cuffs another notch and threw the guy against the wall. It was beautiful. For the first time in my life, I liked the Po-Po.

I never got to thank the cops. I guess they didn't want to go through the trouble of filing a report, so they didn't even come talk to me. They did their job and left, which I was perfectly fine with. I had been all strong and put together during the whole ordeal, but when I finally got to see Ed afterwards, I fell into his arms and lost it, bawling my eyes out. I am such a girl.

I don't think there will be any long term consequences of this encounter with the pooping superhero intruder, but you never know. I do have a bruised fist from pounding the door, and I am still a little jittery at nights, but I expect a full recovery.

Until next Halloween....

Just call me Tim.

I wrote a blog not too long ago about how my competitiveness has dwindled since starting medical school. I sincerely believed this to be true when I put it down for the world to see, but I now must recant that statement. I am just as crazy competitive as I used to be, it's just that academia did not provide the proper platform to display it. Apparently all I need is a sports field...

Intramural flag football started up this month, and I signed up to play for the Microtubulies, the co-ed team comprised of my fellow 2nd year classmates. This was the same team I played with last year that lost in the Class A finals. We were winning with 2 minutes left and then choked and lost by 2 points. Not that I am bitter or anything. I also unwillingly signed up out for our class's all girl's team, the Snarfs, because they were desperate for more numbers. When enough people guilt-tripped me about dashing their dreams of getting to play if I didn't play, I gave in and reluctantly showed up to the first game. Sure enough, the Snarfs have been my favorite team to play with this season. Playing with girls really is more fun because everyone is so excited when we do anything right. Constant cheering and high-fiving is great for morale.

All was fine and dandy until we showed up to play the 3rd year medical student's team. The 2nd years had an exam the next day so we all knew we should skip the game to study, but how could we miss the chance to play our friends and supposedly the "best" team in the league? Eight girls showed up (exactly how many you need to field a team), but unfortunately everyone (including me) was completely exhausted and distracted. We played poorly the first half which was mostly our fault (read: I threw 3 interceptions), but more-so, the refs were out to get us the entire game. I won't go into it, but it was the most pathetic display of refereeing I had ever seen. They had to be getting something under the table. It got the point where half of our team was laughing at every call, and the other half cursing (plus, mix a few tears in as well to get the whole picture). I went up to the refs multiple times and yelled in their faces, dissing not only their play-calling abilities, but their personal lives. It was not one of my high points. I am somewhat surprised I didn't get thrown out. On top of that, the girls we played, who typically are our friends and peers off the field (some of which come to my bible study), were as obnoxious as could be. They played dirty, cheated whenever possible, and tried to hurt us when the refs weren't watching (which was most of the time.) I still can't look some of them in the face.

We ended up winning on a crazy last second touchdown, but I was still so frustrated with the refs and the opponent that I couldn't enjoy the victory. I ingenuously applauded the other team's effort as I disdainfully shook their hands, and then stormed off the field. Upon returning home, I showered and attempted to calm down so I could focus on my studies again, but my efforts proved unsuccessful, so I gave up and went to bed. I laid in bed until 3 am that night, replaying the game in my head and the mistakes I made. I kept trying to remind myself that we won, but it didn't help. I had not been that upset about anything since losing to t.u. in the last game of my college soccer career.

Luckily this week's opponent was not nearly as talented, and we coasted to an easy victory. My team was not nearly as emotionally involved this time, but the sorority chicks we played were not too happy with our domination, particularly when it came to me. "Someone do a chromosome test on #14, because there is no way she's a girl!," I heard after scoring my first touchdown. After the 2nd TD, one girl blurted out, "I didn't realize we had to play Tim Tebow tonight!," which of course got a huge reaction from the crowd (20 people), so the rest of the game their coaches kept screaming "watch Tebow.....get Tebow!!" I've never been a huge fan of Tebow because of all the media hype he gets, but I now have a new-found affinity and appreciation for Florida's QB.

Playoffs start next week. Hopefully I bring home two IM championships, or else things could get ugly. My competitiveness has been locked up for too long, and now that it has been released, there's no turning back. It's go time baby.

All Hail Mr. Nobel Peace Prize Winner

I was going to attempt to write a witty article about the farce that just occurred with B.O. being awarded this year's Nobel Peace Prize, but I think I will just let other people do the honor (I'm not that great of a writer any way.) It's not like I have anything new to add to the table. I think everyone agrees that it was unmerited.

A compilation of various articles and comments about the Norwegian Nobel Committee's decision:

How to Win the Nobel Peace

Prize In 12 Days

Let’s take a look at the president’s first 12 days in the White House according to his public schedule to see what he did to deserve a Nobel Peace Prize.

Editor's Note: Although President Obama had only been in office for 12 days before the nominations for this year's Nobel Peace prize closed the entire process actually takes a full year. According to the official Nobel Prize Web site invitation letters are sent out in September. Every year, the Norwegian Nobel Committee sends out thousands of letters inviting a qualified and select number of people to submit their nominations for the Nobel Peace Prize. The deadline to submit nominations is February 1. -- Two hundred five names were submitted for the 2009 Nobel Peace Prize, 33 of which are organizations. A short list of nominees is prepared in February and March. The short list is subject to adviser review from March until August. At the beginning of October, the Nobel Committee chooses the Nobel Peace Prize Laureates through a majority vote. The decision is final and without appeal. The names of the Nobel Peace Prize Laureates are then announced."

Barack Obama won the Nobel Peace Prize this morning. Over the last decade the only requirement to win the prize was that the nominee had to be critical of George W. Bush (see Al Gore, Mohamed El Baradei and Jimmy Carter).

President Obama has broken new ground here. Nominations for potential winners of the 2009 Nobel Peace Prize ended on February 1. The president took office only 12 days earlier on January 20.

Let’s take a look at the president’s first 12 days in the White House according to his public schedule to see what he did to deserve a Nobel Peace Prize:

January 20: Sworn in as president. Went to a parade. Partied.

January 21: Asked bureaucrats to re-write guidelines for information requests. Held an “open house” party at the White House.

January 22: Signed Executive Orders: Executive Branch workers to take ethics pledge; re-affirmed Army Field Manual techniques for interrogations; expressed desire to close Gitmo (how’s that working out?)

January 23: Ordered the release of federal funding to pay for abortions in foreign countries. Lunch with Joe Biden; met with Tim Geithner.

January 24: Budget meeting with economic team.

January 25: Skipped church.

January 26: Gave speech about jobs and energy. Met with Hillary Clinton. Attended Geithner's swearing in ceremony.

January 27: Met with Republicans. Spoke at a clock tower in Ohio.

January 28: Economic meetings in the morning, met with Defense secretary in the afternoon.

January 29: Signed Ledbetter Bill overturning Supreme Court decision on lawsuits over wages. Party in the State Room. Met with Biden.

January 30: Met economic advisers. Gave speech on Middle Class Working Families Task Force. Met with senior enlisted military officials.

January 31: Took the day off.

February 1: Skipped church. Threw a Super Bowl party.

So there you have it. The short path to the Nobel Peace Prize: Party, go to meetings, skip church, release federal funding to pay for abortions in foreign countries, party some more.

Good grief.

Article by Tommy De Seno, FOXNews.com

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The following are from my friend's status updates on Facebook:

~Scoff all you like, sir. Just remember that during that time Obama managed not only to move into the White House, but also to adopt a puppy. The man is a multi-tasking saint.

~Bill Clinton should be the most upset today.

~This award has become a joke. It lost credibility with me when Al Gore nearly won it for "fighting global warming", despite consuming more energy then most. He did "invent" the internet though...not. The fact that he won does not surprise me. Hitler gave great speeches too, so let's posthumously just give him one if that is the only qualification.

~the Nobel Committee ought to know that we've made wonderful advances in treating premature laureation.

~I used to get participation trophies in little league.

~hasn't any one heard of PRE-season MVP?!!?

~I gave all of my patients meds on time yesterday and cleaned up vomit off the floor....... can I get a Nobel Peace Prize??

~(by the editor of 12th Man Magazine): Dear Pulitzer Prize Commitee, I have a great idea for a magazine story I'd like to write. It will unite people of all colors and creeds and change the world. I haven't written an outline yet, don't have any main characters or plot line...s developed, and I likely will actually never write it, but I'd like you to consider me for this year's Pulitzer Prize. Thanks.

~I'm pretty sure it's because he has 'a dream'....I, too, believe in peace and love...and also read a mean teleprompter. I think I deserve the Nobel Peace Prize!

~Kanye West: "Yo, Obama, I'm really happy for you, I'ma let you finish, but Al Gore won one of the best Nobel Peace Prizes of all time."

Big Blue Sadness

With all the hoopla surrounding UK Basketball, I was hoping to get in on a pair of tickets to this year's Big Blue Madness, the first official practice of the year. Thousands of people camped out at Memorial Coliseum all last week so that they could be the first in line to get their tickets come Saturday morning, but I did not think that was necessary. I would just have my men (Dad and Ed) get up at 5:55 am that morning and get online to buy them via Ticketmaster. That way they get a good night's rest in a warm bed, and not have to worry about the crazy tents and frigid weather. Much to my dismay, neither my father nor my beau-hunk were able to get tickets. Rumor has it that they sold out online in 2 minutes. I've even heard 14 seconds, but who knows. Needless to say, I doubt Ticketmaster has ever had 14,000 tickets sell out to an event between 6-6:02 am. That's Kentucky Basketball for you.

I should have been dedicated enough to get up at 6 am to try on the computer myself, but I really didn't think it'd matter. All the die-hards would be camping out, and the rest of the Big Blue Nation would just get around to buying the tickets online whenever they woke up Saturday morning. Well obviously I was wrong. I know tons of people who woke up that morning to come up empty handed, just like we did. Had I known this would have been the case, I would have definitely camped out. I'm fairly certain everyone who camped out was awarded 2 tickets. I could have endured one cold, sleepless night in order to get the chance to see my Wildcats storm Rupp Arena on October 16th. Heck, Calipari and the rest of the players were even out there hanging out with the fans, serving them food, playing corn hole, and throwing a football around. What was I thinking????? Grrrrr.

Shoulda, woulda, coulda.

Yeehaw!!!

I done got me a cowboy!

A Change of Luck

I have become accustomed to not having things go my way over the past year, and I never thought much of it - I didn't pity myself or lose sleep over it because there is no such thing as luck any way. I got what I deserved. But now, as of late, I have been treading in unfamiliar waters. I have experienced the other side of luck, and dear Lord, I never want to go back.

My first test of the year was in Immunology. Immunity has always been one of those vague words that I never really grasped or understood. B cells, T cells, macrophages, neutrophils...I couldn't tell one from the other, much less their function. Then out of nowhere, I get a 73/75 on the examination (the class average was something like a 63/75). WHAT?! And then to top it off, the professor ended up accepting 2 answers (ie both "b" and "d") on 3 of the questions on the test, 2 of which happened to be the ones I missed, which put me at 75/75. But oh, I am not done. He decided to completely throw out one of the questions because it was poorly written, but if you got it right in the first place, he would not punish you, so that puts me at a 75/74 on the test. How does that happen?! Unbelievable luck, I tell you!

I was trying to think back to when this change of luck began, and I believe I have placed my finger on it: somewhere on the road between Seville and Madrid. The source: my iPod. Pressing the "shuffle" tab on your iPod is always a big risk. You never know what music the melody gods will choose for you that day, especially when your library encompasses everything from Coldplay to Casting Crowns to Chris Brown to classical music. That day, every song that was played brought a smile to my face.

I have an uncanny ability to remember songs. Not necessarily by their lyrics, or the artist, but often by the context that I first heard it. Almost every song in my music library has a story to go with it, and if you are ever with me on a road trip, you won't get more than 5 minutes of silence because every new song that comes on will be followed by an anecdote. But on that warm sunny day in Spain, I just sat back, listened to the iPod do its magic, and pondered all the memories that flooded my mind. Fortunately for you, I wrote down the songs afterward so that I could share these memories with you. iPod shuffle doesn't get much better than this.

• "Me and Mrs. Jones" by Michael Buble - The spring of 2008 will go down as one of my favorite periods of time ever. That semester was my last of undergrad, I had no more college soccer obligations, and had already been accepted into medical school. Life was good, and much of that was due to Dr. Jerry Tsai, my biochemistry professor. I had the opportunity of getting to know him well over those few months, and one day in his office we were joking about my lack of a love life (not in a creepy way, I promise), and he boldly stated that I would know the person I was supposed to be with when I got serenaded with "Me and Mrs. Jones." I had never heard the song so I went home and downloaded it, and was shocked to hear it was about an affair. Nonetheless, it was a good memory, but it has not happened yet. (Don't get any ideas, Ed.)
• "Beautiful Day" by U2 - Every time I hear this song I think of Spencer Green. I blogged about him in the past, so I won't waste your time here again, but this was the song he chose to be played at his funeral when they showed the slide show of his life. Surprisingly, this is a happy memory, because of the fact that he was able to bring so much glory to the Kingdom during his short 23 years on this earth.
• "One by One" by Enya - Two words come to mind when I hear any song by Enya: Diana Davis, with whom I had the privilege of living with one year of college. That girl would blast this music while she worked on her honors thesis (about how Wal-Mart is the root of all evil...don't get me started on that). The only time Diana didn't have Enya blaring in the background was when she took the time to watch CNN and then come into my room and bash poor ole President Bush and everything Republican. While she intimidated me the first couple of months we lived together, I learned to love her fiery political side because she made me start thinking about why I believed what I did.
• "Fidelity" by Regina Spektor - This was one of the songs that was on the CD that a certain someone made for me. This was probably the most awkward memory of my life.
• "Out of My League" by Stephen Speaks - Mike McGuire let me borrow his Stephen Speaks CD my first semester at A&M, and my roommate Alex and I would lay in my bed with this song blaring on repeat, both in tears wishing that we had someone in our lives that would think this about us. Wow.
• "Indescribable" by Chris Tomlin - Sarah Foster Gray and I became huge fans of Chris Tomlin after going to the Passion Conference during our junior year. When Tomlin came to A&M a few months later, SJ was dead set on going to his concert. She bought both of our tickets and even got a t-shirt for me. I had a good time, but she seemed so much more into it than me. I was starting to think it was because she was a better Christian than me, but then a few weeks later she spilled the beans. She was absolutely convinced that Chris Tomlin was the man she was supposed to marry. She had even written him a personal letter to tell him how much he inspired her. Much to her dismay (at the time), he never responded. Luckily, Sarah did end up getting her knight in shining armor, but his name was Kent, not Chris.

So thank you, iPod, for the change in fortune. I owe ya.

Writer's block

It's been a while. Sorry about that. Between summer vacation, where I boycotted doing anything that required any effort, and the beginning of second year, where I got sucked back into the all-consuming world of immunology, I somehow managed to not blog for over a month. I promise not to leave you hanging like this again. I fear I may lose all readership if I don't continually post, but then I remember that my blog isn't that exciting in the first place, so I snap back to the reality that no one really cares that I didn't blog once during August. I digress.

When one does not post an entry for an extended period of time, one starts to feel immense pressure for the next post. It has to be a hit, a real stinger, something to make up for your extended period of absence. So when something minute and infinitesimal comes up that one might blog about in a normal situation, one pushes it to the side in hopes of coming across the the big fish later. In the mean time, the readers are left starving. Give them the little fish, I proclaim. Little fish are better than no fish!

So that is what you will be getting here. I have nothing profound to explain to the world, but if I do not get my fingers warm again by writing about something trivial and insignificant, I may just never blog again. And what a shame that would be. The world deserves better.

Here are some topics that I have considered blogging about, but did not feel the impetus to do so at the time. But quit complaining and just eat the goldfish, ok?!

• I am now working out consistently. I run a 2.5 mile trail and then do abs about 5 times a week. I started doing it because SJ kicked my butt into gear a couple of months ago, making me get out of bed at 7:15am (during summer break, no less) to go run with her. I now go with my main squeeze almost every night, but he runs 3.5 miles in the time it takes me to run 2.5. I will catch him eventually, but I am currently content with my progress.
  
• While most people gain the "Freshman 15" during their undergrad years, I had a delayed onset. The only pounds I gained during my freshman year were due to lifting weights for the first time in my life. Muscle weights more than fat, as I am sure most people know. I gained ~10 lbs of pure, lean muscle that year, and thought I'd never go back. The muscles that used to grace my legs and abdomen, have since deteriorated and turned to flab. I gained my "M1 15" last year, but I am now on track to lose it all, so don't fret.
• I went to Spain for vacation the first week of August, and did not know what to expect. I took French in high school and college, so I knew nothing about the language or culture. I never took a Spanish history class, so I was ignorant of their days of old. Going in with no expectations ended up working out wonderfully. I would have probably been disappointed if I had, because Spanish food really isn't that good, their history is way too complex and not even their own (it's either Roman or Moorish invasion, time and time again), and everything is so expensive. But with that being said, it was beautiful. Perfect weather, unbelievable architecture, and friendly people. Sevilla was the highlight for me, although Granada's Alhambra was also incredible.
• I moved into a new apartment (my 6th residence in 6 years), and the good news is: it doesn't smell!!! But the bad news: my neighbors are extremely loud. The 3 guys above me own Rock Band, and they are very devout in their practicing to be the next star of "America's Got Talent". On top of that, I swear they either do step aerobics or have a dance party every night. I never knew 3 people could make so much noise. My neighbors to the right of me are usually quiet so I don't have much to complain about with them. Although the night they moved in, they decided to christen the place, giving me a front row seat (on the other side of the wall) to the sounds of love-making. It really does sound like the movies.
• I am going to COLLEGE STATION in 3 weekends!!! I finally am making the pilgrimage back to the Holy Land, 16 months after graduating. I get to catch the soccer game vs Portland Friday night, then the football game Saturday vs. Utah State. And Sunday will be spent in Houston with Alex (and hopefully some other friends). I don't know how I am going to fit in Layne's, Mi Cocina, Antonio's, Dixie Chicken, Freebirds, Sweet Eugene's, Rudy's, and Blue Baker into the schedule when I only get 4 meals in Aggieland, but when there is a will, there is a way. I am taking Ed with me, so he will get to experience heaven on earth for the first time. Whoop!
  
• Now that I am a seasoned veteran of medical school, and I know what to expect, I am declaring my goals for this year. I want straight A's (you really would have thought I learned my lesson last year with my multiple B's). I want to get back into shape and wear those size 6 jeans I haven't worn in 2 years. I want to eat in (which means cook) more than I eat out. And lastly, I want to grow in my relationship with the Lord and be a strong leader in CMDA.
• Following suit of every other second year medical student in the country, I am going to start diagnosing myself with random diseases anytime the smallest abnormality presents. Here is my first diagnosis: Post-Traumatic Test Disease (PTTD). This is a disorder that presents after a major examination, where one experiences depression, lack of appetite, and inability to sleep, no matter what the score achieved on the test. Typically symptoms lasts 32-48 hours post-exam experience, and results with a complete lack of productivity and happiness. PTTD is slightly contagious, and unfortunately there is no vaccine to prevent onset of disease or recurrences. The only treatments are watching movies, eating simple sugars, and working out extensively.
  

Thanks for reading, and see you soon. The drought is over.

Needed: Grammar Guru

A few weeks ago, I was browsing through one of my Facebook friend's photo albums (Riley O'Neill), and stumbled upon the pictures he took at his good friend's wedding. One picture, in particular, caught my eye because the caption simply read "the groom and me", but then in the comments section, someone had corrected him, saying it should be "the groom and I". Being the closet confrontationalist that I am, I decided to enter the debate and put my two cents in, supporting Riley's original comment on the picture.

Unfortunately, I already deleted my two comments before I decided to write a blog about it, doing so in order that I would not receive any more notifications from the picture, because clearly nothing good was coming from it. I was only getting frustrated every time I was reminded of the event. But I will re-enter to the best of my ability what I commented so that you will fully understand the debate and situation.

Keegan O'Neill

groom and I

July 4 at 12:58am

Riley O'Neill

thanks mom

July 4 at 3:56am

ELISABETH JONES: No Riley, I think you're right with the "groom and me", because if you left the groom entirely out of the picture, you wouldn't write "I" in the caption. At least that's how I think the rule goes. :)

Keegan O'Neill

nope, groom and i

July 11 at 8:00pm

Riley O'Neill

i have to agree since my mom would correct me all the time on this, hence the "thanks mom" above..

July 11 at 8:31pm

ELISABETH JONES: "I" can only be used as a subject of a sentence, and "me" as an object. and in this picture, there is an implied "This is a picture of" in front of your caption, making you and the groom the direct objects. I'm not trying to be argumentative, just giving my opinion! :)

Brock Kenneth Robert Thulin

hahaha now son, it is "groom and I"

July 13 at 6:01pm

Riley O'Neill

Elisabeth for how smart i know you are you should know this one, its one of those exceptions...

July 13 at 6:11pm

Matt O'Neill

i think its Elisabeth i suppose to have a 'z' , not an 's' ... u might wanna check on that one too while you're at it ;)

5 hours ago

As you can see, the debate ended very tactfully! Personal attacks on something a person has no control over and completely irrelevant to the topic is very mature, and it only makes that person's stance on the debate that much more convincing. In response to Matt's comment: Elisabeth with an "s" is the original way of spelling the Hebrew name in the English language, and is still how the Dutch spell it. It is how the British spelled the name for centuries, which can be seen by opening up any King James Version of the Bible (click here for confirmation). Elizabeth with a "z" is the Americanized version of the name. I'm not arguing one as being better than the other, I'm just explaining my name is not misspelled! Other people who share my unique spelling: Elisabeth Hasselbeck, Elisabeth Elliot, Liz Claiborne.

But back to the point. I have asked 3 people whether "I" or "me" should be used in this situation, and all 3 have said "me". I gave my reasoning above as to why I believe it is "me", but the people arguing for "I" never backed up their claim with a stated rule or example. I searched online this morning for almost an hour trying to find the proper way to use "I" in a picture caption, but could not find a credible source (yahoo answers has no validity in my book). If anyone out there knows the answer, or would like the healthily debate this all-important linguistic enigma, please do so. I really want to know the correct way to caption my Facebook pictures!

But until proven otherwise, I'm sticking with "me".

Me? Uncultured?

Yesterday my beau hunk got off of work early at Ft. Knox so he decided to drive up to Lexington to spend a few hours with me before driving back that night. What a doll. We decided to have a quiet night in at his place, so we headed to Yu Yu Asian Market to buy some goods, in hopes of concocting the ultimate Asian meal. After selecting the perfect tofu, spices, and dumplings, we went to the check out lane. Not surprisingly, I got distracted by the assortments of Asian candies nearby. My eye was drawn to a small 6 oz bottle of Korean Ginseng Drink. I don't really know what ginseng is, but it seems to be in a lot of health drinks, so I figured it couldn't hurt. Plus, it was Korean, so I figured Ed would know what it is. So I held one up and asked Ed if he wanted it. To my astonishment, he said no. Ed never turns down anything, especially gustatory items, so I asked if he was sure, and he confirmed his answer. I put it away and went on my way, but Ed had a funny look on his face. As we walked out the door, he began laughing then explained to me what had just taken place. Apparently in Asian cultures, that drink is used as an aphrodisiac! When I unabashedly asked him in front of everyone if he wanted the drink, the guy at the checking out started chuckling under his breath. You live, you learn. Apparently you don't have to go to another country to make a cultural mistake! I should have known better, I lived in Taiwan for 2 years (although I was much too young to know the secrets of aphrodisiacs).

At least I made some mean Mapo Tofu last night. :)

Finding the positive

I learned an incredible amount of information this past year, more than I thought humanly possible. I must also admit that most of it has left my long term memory bank, but I am sure it will come back quickly when I start studying for boards next summer (this is my new optimistic side). One of the greatest things I learned was about myself: I am most definitely not perfect. Now, now...don't freak out on me...I never thought that I was actually perfect, but I did have a pretty high self-esteem...you know, Aggie soccer babe, good grades, great friends, All-American accolades...a fairly fabulous life. Then as much of you know from my numerous self-defeating, ranting blogs over the past 11 months, I was greatly humbled this year. I had to get used to the B average, to not being the best at everything I do, to not being in shape and have a rockin' bod, and had to learn how to set lower goals and standards. While you may think that is pathetic of me, it had to be done for my sanity. I would have been miserable if I had not learned to find joy and satisfaction in a B.

But the point of this blog post is not to be self-deprecating. I want to talk about the positive aspects of being mediocre. I played soccer for the first time last night in 8 months. I stepped on the field with low expectations, and didn't even live up to those. I am in horrible shape. I have lost my quick first step. And let's not even talk about my first touch. It really was a pathetic display of athleticism (which someone pointed out by saying "I thought you were a D1 athlete?" after I whiffed the ball). Surprisingly, I walked off the field afterwards like nothing had happened. After 11 months of being brutally beaten by med school (particularly biochem), I am so used to be a loser and being mediocre that my crazy competitiveness has gone. Out the window. Vanquished. I never thought it would happen, but it has. And praise the Lord, because my competitiveness was just a wee bit over the top.

I have now reached a healthy level of aggression, and I am that much wiser because of it. And you can trust me, because I'm 1/4 of a doctor. :)

J&K+8

Big whoppin surprise with the outcome of last night's show.  Everyone and their mom knew they were going to get a divorce.  I don't understand why everyone is so shocked by this news...it really has been coming for a while, and the show did not try to twist the facts in any way to make us think otherwise.  I do understand though why people are upset by it.  Here is a couple that claimed to be Christians (even had a family "mission statement" which stated their top priority as loving and honoring God and telling others about God's love).  Ironically, Jon and Kate "renewed" their vows to one another a mere 9 months ago in Hawaii, with the title of that episode being "For Better or Worse."  HA!  Kate stated on that episode that renewing their vows in front of the kids was really important because while "not all mommies and daddies stay together, and even though we've told them a million times, we wanted to show that we will always be together".  How quickly things change.  

I am mad about this divorce for multiple reasons:

1) It most definitely is NOT what is best for the kids, like Jon and Kate were both claiming in last night's episode.  What would be best would be for them to stay together.  Duh.

2) The hypocrisy of the J&K just eats me away.  No one is perfect, and I am sure marriage is hard (obviously I have no experience here), but it seems like they didn't even try to make things better.  Ever heard of marriage counseling?  

3) The TV show needs to end (and I say this reluctantly because I am a big fan of those little kids, especially Alexis and Aaden), but it is ruining their family.  I completely blame the downfall of their marriage on the money.  It truly is the root of all evil.  I believe if Jon was still working and was the bread winner for the family, no matter how meager that income was, then Jon and Kate would still be together.  Jon lost his identity when he became the stay at home dad.  And at that same time, Kate started writing her books and traveling the country doing all her media gigs, leaving him in the dust.  God didn't create men to play second fiddle like that.  Men are supposed to the leader of the household, and not the punching bag that Kate made him out to be.  She was as rude and demeaning as any wife could be to her husband.  With that being said, I am not completely blaming Kate.  Jon shouldn't have gone out clubbing with those girls back in February, even if he wasn't cheating on Kate sexually (which I don't think he did), he was emotionally.  

4) These poor kids are going to have to deal with this traumatic experience for the rest of their lives, not only because divorce scars them emotionally, but because it's on tape.  Every little second of it.  Oh, and don't forget about all the millions of newspapers, magazines, and blogs that have written about it too.

Enough ranting for one day.  Signing out.

Confession

"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.  It has been 24 years since my last confession."

I lied to a homeless man this past weekend, at a Christian Medical and Dental Association function of all places.  We were having a BBQ at a local park and the man came up asking for some water.  We willingly obliged and then offered him food since we had more than enough.  He took that as an invitation to sit at our picnic tables for the next 2 hours and eat to his heart's content (which we were perfectly fine with).  But near the end when we started to clean up, he started sweet talking some of the girls.  As I handed a full plate of food to him, he asked me if I was married.  Innocent enough question, I suppose.  But I immediately went into panic mode and responded, "Yeah, I belong that that kid over there" and pointed to Ed.  At first I thought it was no big deal, answering that way for my own protection.  But then the guilt started setting in, and my conscience attacked me.  A lie is a lie, no matter what the situation.  I was trying to validate my sin by claiming my safety was compromised, but in reality, me answering, "no not yet, but I am lucky enough to be dating that handsome guy over there" would have done the same trick, and I would be guilt-free right now. 

"So Father, how many Hail Mary's do I owe you?"

Out of the Loop

I have now been back in Kentucky for over a year now.  At times my heart longs for A&M.  Well, most of the time actually.  And while I know I'll always be an Aggie, it's harder feeling part of the family when you are 1000 miles away.  With the physical distance from Aggieland and the time consumption by medical school, keeping up with the ins and outs of what is going on at my beloved university proves to be a challenge.  So I am calling on my fellow Aggie readers to help keep me in the loop here.  What is going on with Dr. Murano stepping down as president?  All I know is that she retired suddenly for "the good of the university" and that everyone is saying that Gov. Rick Perry controls Texas A&M.  

Explanation please.

Also, if there is anything else going on down there that I need to know about, please inform me.  I was hoping to work A&M soccer camps this summer, but it looks like the numbers are down due to the economy, so they won't need me.  Who knows how long it will be until I make it back down there.  :(

I would like to take some time to congratulate A&M's golf and women's and men's track teams for their 3 National Championships earned in the last 2 weeks.  WHOOP!  I also want to give former Aggie pitcher Kirkland Rivers a shout out.  He got moved up to the Astros Single A team, the Lexington Legends, a few weeks ago and I got to go see him pitch the other day.  Always fun to see Ags in the pros!  And hopefully this means his girl, Amber Gnatzig, will be up to visit him (and me) shortly!

Luck?

I got a call this afternoon that my brother, Andrew, had been in a bad accident on I-65, on his way home from college.  My mom quickly told me that he was fine, but for that split second before I heard the good news, I panicked.  It's amazing what your mind can come up with in such a short time period. I immediately imagined my brother laying in an Emergency Room bed, hooked up to a ventilator, grasping onto life with everything that he could, and completely alone, no one next to him to love on him. Fortunately, this was not the case.  He was not injured, and no one else was either.  The police were called and everything went as smoothly as possible.  His accident occurred about an hour north of where Matthew & Elizabeth live in Indiana, so Matthew drove up to get him and is bringing him down to Lexington tonight, which was their plan anyway since the family is celebrating Mother's Day tomorrow.

I talked to Andrew briefly on the phone and he sounds fine...much better than I would be if I was in his shoes.  He said he was "lucky" for surviving the accident, seeing as he was on an overpass and was minding his own business before someone pulled right in front of him and he swerved to try to miss them, and instead hit the median on the bridge, bounced off of that one and went across the two lanes to hit the other guard rail.  The car was totaled, and we probably won't get any money from the insurance company for it since it was an old car with a ton of miles on it, but it's hard to focus on something like that when you consider what else could have happened.  

That being said, I don't think Andrew was "lucky".

Demigod

Either this is the second coming or he is the Anti-Christ.  It's as if he can do no wrong - everything he touches turns to gold; honored and respected, yet feared; loved by the media; completely adored and worshiped by his followers, and irrationally despised by his enemies.  He seems to be perfect.

Who is this I talk about?  (Please don't tell me Obama came to mind).  It's none other than Coach Calipari.  How can a single man come in and completely change the direction of a basketball team 180 degrees around?  How can one man single handedly lift an entire state's mood?  How can he recruit the nation's best to come play at a school that didn't make the NCAA's last year?  How can he, in one month's time, get the #1 recruiting class in the nation?  How can he gain almost 20,000 followers on twitter in one week?  How can he convince a 5 star PG recruit (Bledsoe) to come be second fiddle to another 5 star PG and even higher ranked potential teammate (Wall)?  HOW?

It just flat out doesn't make sense!  It seems impossible.  But I guess with Coach Cal, impossible is nothing.

Welcome to UK, Eric Bledsoe.  Glad you joined the Cats.  It's time to get "sh!t right" in Lexington.  Now let's get you in some speech classes.

Spontaneous Road Trip

This past week was Spring Break #2 for me and my fellow M1 classmates.  We had endured the hardships of Neuro and were rewarded Wednesday - Friday off before tackling the beginning of the end of our first year medical school adventures: the Physiology block.   For the previous two months, I had planned on going to Chicago to visit my brother Andrew (aka mandyroo) who goes to school at Wheaton, and then go downtown to soak in the big city life.  My dreams came to a screeching halt about two weeks ago when I received the following message from my brother, and I quote: 

"Life is full of regret, and today, I must regret to inform you that I simply don't think you visiting me is going to work.  I am simply overrun with work and haven't the time.  Sorry."

My first thought was shock, because what kind of 21 year old male talks like that, but then I realized the gravity of what just occurred.  I no longer had anything exciting to do for my mini-break!  I figured I shouldn't complain about this, seeing as I did get the Spring Break #1 of a lifetime at Disney World.  Also, weighing in the fact that I needed to do a lot of busy work for my PCM class, maybe it wasn't the end of the world that I'd be "stuck" at home for a few days.  

Fast forward two weeks.  I had my finals last Monday and Tuesday.  I spent the next two days lounging around town, watching movies, eating, sleeping, hitting up Sam's Club, and hanging with the boy and fam (note: NOT doing PCM assignments).  I was having a decent enough time, then all of a sudden on Thursday evening I got the itch to travel, and no matter where I scratched, it wouldn't go away.  I convinced Ed (didn't take much) to start looking for cheap flights online.  We spent about an hour trying to find deals, and unfortunately the only thing we could find that was decently priced was to Orlando, but we had been there, done that 2 months prior.  So we axed the flight idea.  I started to sulk, but then Ed proposed just driving up to Chicago and doing our own thing, not even seeing Andrew, since it was obvious he was too busy.  I thought that sounded ludicrous, to go all that way and not see my brother, so I called Andrew up and asked if he would want to meet up with us, if only for a meal, if we decided to go.  He sounded very frustrated, but agreed to go to dinner with us, "but only for an hour".  I found out post-trip that he had actually called my mom and told her how mad he was that we were coming up.  He was incredibly too busy and stressed to entertain us on one of our whimsical adventures.  We Joneses never lack passion.  (I would feel bad about bothering him, but you'll see why I'm not later on in the post.)

Ed and I quickly packed our bags and got on the road that night.  We stayed with my other brother, Matthew, in Indy that evening, then got up and drove the rest of the way on Friday morning.  It was raining and kinda chilly afternoon, which turned out to be a blessing in disguise because not too many people were downtown that day.  We went shopping (spent too much money), found the bean (or whatever that sculpture thing is in the middle of downtown), took tons of pictures, and went to the art museum.  That night we ate dinner at Berghoff's - a German pub and supposedly the oldest restaurant in Chicago.  Then we went to our hotel and I passed out around 9:30 pm.  (Don't worry, Ed and I got separate rooms.)

Saturday's highlights were going to the Cub's game, sitting in traffic, listening to the Derby on the radio, eating some deep dish pizza, and seeing Wolverine.  We ended up spending about 4 hours with Andrew (which I would like to think was on his own accord), so I guess he wasn't as busy as he had thought.  Hmmmm, sounds like he gets way more stressed out about things than he should, just like his sister.  :)

We drove back to Lexington on Sunday, but Ed dropped me off in Indy to meet up with my mom so we could babysit Mary Beth (who by the way turned 1 last week!).  We hung out with the little pumpkin for about 6 hours while Matthew and Elizabeth studied for their finals, then mama and I came on home. 

A few things I took from the experience:

-Being spontaneous is fun, especially when you have a boyfriend who spoils you like crazy!

-Music is good for the soul, especially "The Rose" by Bette Midler.  It should be sung passionately and often.

-Watching a 1 year old sing  "Happy, Happy" as she dances is the cutest thing I've ever seen.  Makes me want to drop out of school and start procreating.

-I despise toll roads.

-I've developed a temper in the last year.  Don't know if it was instigated by the stresses of medical school, or if my eyes were just recently opened to the fact that I have always been like that. Either way, I'm working on it.

-Indiana is boring.  They need some mountains.  Or horse farms.

-Cubs fans are insane.  

-People spend heinous amounts of money on food at sporting events - hog dog ($4.25), medium coke ($4.50), beer ($6.25), bag of peanuts ($4), nachos ($5).  Also, giving a 9 month old a hot dog is not a good idea.  They WILL choke on it.

-iPhones take great pictures.

-I only like to see the famous paintings at art museums.  If it's not by Monet, Manet, Renoir, Picasso, or Van Gogh, then put it in a back corner.  Thanks.

-Parking for 7 hours downtown costs $35.  Really?  

-Twittering Coach Calipari provides me way too much joy.

-I definitely ain't no city girl.

-Men can multitask, however much they like to claim otherwise.  Case and point: Ed watches movies on his portable DVD player....while he's driving.  

Just another day in medical school

I cried for an hour straight today, going through multiple tissues, soaking them completely with tears and the snot that always accompanies a good cry.  Why you ask?  Today's topic in class was dying, grief, and loss.  I even knew it was coming.  We had to read a big journal article on grief and watch a movie (203 Days) before coming to class to be prepared for the discussion. But I was not expecting the emotions that ensued.  

Every Thursday afternoon I have a 2 hour class that is called PCM (Patient Centered Medicine).  It's basically a course where we learn how to be a doctor, without all the science stuff getting in the way.  They teach us how to interview, take a history, and build that trusting relationship with your patients.  We play pretend doctor, interviewing standardized patients in front of the other 7 members of our group.  Then when it's done, we get critiqued by our teacher and classmates, usually on how we could have been more sympathetic.  "You could have leaned in more towards the patient.  She was obviously in distress and needed to see you actually cared," one classmate says.  "You should have explored her feelings about her dog's death more. Maybe that was why she was turning to alcohol", another chimes in. 

Inside I'm screaming, "NO, this "patient" is not in distress!  It's not a real patient!"  Instead, I just nod in acquiescence.  "You're right.  I was so worried about getting through the Review of Systems and Chief Complaint that I didn't give her time to truly express herself.  Completely my fault.  I'll try to ask more open-ended questions next time."  Not really, it had already been 25 minutes since I'd started the interview.  I'd heard everything from her kids' nicks and bruises to her mother's travels through Europe, all of which having nothing to do with her back pain.  It was time to wrap things up.  In a perfect world, a physician could spend 30-45 minutes on each patient, diving into the intricate details of their lives.  But that's not reality.  Hospitals can't afford that.  Physicians typically only get 15 minutes for each patient, usually only having time to hear the Chief Complaint, do a brief physical, then make the diagnosis and discuss treatment plans.  If the doc took the hour long appointments that our PCM class is essentially teaching us to do, then either the patients have to be charged an arm and a leg (the equivalent of 4 appointments) or hospitals would go out of business before you could say dentatorubrothalamic.  

Anyway, today's particular PCM class was not spent interviewing patients.  Instead we were being taught the stages of grief and how to cope with the death of a loved one.  Obviously death is a natural and inevitable stage of life, but it's one that most physicians have to deal with more frequently than the lay man.  Before class, I assumed the purpose of the lesson was to teach us how to help our future patients as they are dying and how to comfort the family during that difficult time, which is very useful for us to learn.  But it turned more into a sob fest where we just heard story after story of heartbreaking deaths.  First we had to go around the circle and tell a personal story of a time we were confronted with death, and how we handled it.  The girl sitting next me, and one of my better friends I've made here at UK, was forced into a situation that she was obviously not comfortable in.  Her brother died when she was 14 in a fatal car accident.  He was 20 years old.  It's not something she ever talks about, so she just briefly mentioned it and then put her head down in silence.  Another person talked about the last moments spent at his father's death bed, and how he had to choose whether or not to put him on oxygen or let him go.  He chose the latter.  It was painful to say the least.  At this moment I was starting to feel my heart race and my body was overcome with chills.  I could tell I was not emotionally stable and tears were going to start flowing if anything else remotely sad was said.  

Well it wasn't over.  We spent the next hour watching various documentaries on death and grief.  One was about a woman in her early 60's dying of ovarian cancer.  They videotaped her last Mother's Day at home with the whole family, her last appointment at the hospital where the doctor told her it was probably the last time she'd be there before her death, and her husband choking up as he tried to talk about what life will be like when she's gone.  We saw the tears stream down her face as she talked about her fears of dying in pain.  Another story was about a child with CF who was about to die at the tender age of 14.  She was drawing a picture of rainbows and angels and then laboriously whispered about how she knows she has a guardian angel with her, ready to fly her off to heaven.  She said she was not afraid of dying, just afraid of how her parents will cope with it after she's gone.  Meanwhile her father talked about his regrets of how he raised her, ignoring the fact that she was dying, and not talking about the important things in life with her.  And finally, we watched a mother talk about getting over the death of her 6 year old daughter - the rage she felt towards the physician who broke the news to her, the physical manifestations of her emotional distress, and the pleas to God about how unfair it was.

Needless to say, I bawled.  I couldn't even hide it.  I kept trying to distract myself by getting out my iPhone and reading USA Today, or checking my email and Facebook countless times, but no matter how hard I tried to shut it out, I kept hearing the stories and sobs in the background.  I attempted to hold it together and not let anyone see the tears forming in my eyes, but once I reached into my purse for the first kleenex, the class knew, and oddly I was ok with that.  Anyone who was still questioning whether or not I was blowing my nose because of a cold or because I was crying had their question answered when the lights were turned on.  I can't even pretend to hide it - my face screams that I've been crying with its puffy, red eyes (which stay like that for hours).

I left class today mystified.  Why had I been so affected by those movies?  Most of the other people in the class didn't react the way I did.  The only other person that cried was my friend who had lost her brother 8 years prior, and obviously her tears were merited.  My immediate thoughts were that I am weak and hypersensitive.  I then spent about 17 seconds questioning whether or not medicine was the right occupation for me to be entering if I can't handle death.  Finally I snapped back to reality and decided that I should probably just avoid going into oncology, geriatrics, or palliative medicine.  I'd be a complete wreck every day.  Life is precious.  I can't even fathom having to tell a patient that they only have a few more days left, or going into the waiting room to tell the family that they need to say their final goodbyes.  It takes a strong person to do that type of work, and that is most definitely not me.

I can't decide if it is a good thing or bad thing that I am such a cry baby.  The right side of my brain wants to hold onto that impressionability, since so much of medicine is not just treating a disease, but a patient's emotions and total well-being.  Plus, most of the public's dismay with the health care system is its lack of sensitivity.  They think physicians are just robots who don't care about the person they are treating.  But the left hemisphere then tells me that I need to toughen up and learn to deal with it better so that I will be able to give the best possible medical care, not clouded by my own emotional weakness.  As you've seen on Grey's Anatomy, it's not good to get emotionally involved with a patient...you may end up cutting an LVAD wire in attempts to perversely "help" the patient.  Dramatic example, but you get the point.  

It's a fine line for physicians to walk: finding a way to sincerely care for the patient and gain their trust, but not get too involved. I have yet to figure this one out.  I suppose I have plenty of time to learn.  

Do You Know Him?

I've seen this a few times now, but I get chills every time. So simple, yet so true.

I hope everyone had a good Easter! He is Risen!

Another one bites the dust

Well, she did it folks.  Sarah Foster tied the knot this past weekend.  Another one of the good ones was snagged up and is no longer on the market.  I'm sure men all across the world are mourning the loss of this one.  I know my brother is.  Andrew, you blew it when you had the chance.  She even asked to be your prom date.

Slowly, one by one, all of my friends are marrying off, growing up, and becoming responsible adults.  And I'm left here, as a perpetual student, stuck in never-never land.  I sometimes feel like I'm never going to mature and never going to have a real job (well at least not for 8 years).  Luckily, I'm ok with that.  Good thing!  That'd be awkward.  Although I should note that I have caught the bouquet at the last two weddings I've attended.  Some probably think it's because I'm dying to get married.  They obviously don't know me well, or else they'd understand that it's  just my competitive nature.  If there's a contest, I'm all in.  :)

Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Gray!  Love y'all!  

Caliparty?

Ever since Gillispie's removal as UK's head coach 3 days ago, rumors have been rampant about who our next coach would be.  Many speculated Travis Ford, since AD Mitch Barnhart was stressing the importance of having someone who truly understood and appreciated what UK basketball is all about.  Ford played point guard for the Wildcats during the early 90's under Pitino and was one of the key figures in building the program to what it became in the late 90's (2 National Championships and a Runner-up in 3 years).  Others were screaming for Donovan because he too would be returning to somewhere he knew and respected as having been a former assistant coach here in Lexington.  Both of those seemed poor choices to me.  Ford is too young and inexperienced.  Maybe another decade from now I will consider him a forerunner for this position, but he needs to get some more games under his belt.  I also heard he has some off-court issues that sound a lot like BCG.  Not good.  Donovan has the celebrity factor.  He's a big name, having won 2 recent National Championships at UF, and he has the "it" factor - clean cut, handsome, and witty.  And we've all seen how good of a recruiter he is.  But I still didn't want him.  His stock has significantly declined in the last two years, having only made the NIT.  Why bring in someone who isn't even getting their team to the Big Dance?  Still others were throwing around the names of Jay Wright, Tom Izzo, Rick Pitino (gasp!), or Thad Matta.  My responses to those (in order): nope, no more up-and-comings; boring basketball; yeah right/sick; not proven enough.  

John Calipari's name was also in the mix, but people kept insisting that he has it perfect at UM.  Winning season after winning season.  The gem of Memphis sports - not competing with football.  He's the "King of Memphis" - the most popular guy in town.  Recently signed a contract making him one of the highest paid coaches of all time.  It just didn't make sense for him to go.  Well that was the media talking.  

We Kentuckians see the big picture.  We know that UK is the winningest program of all time.  That we have 7 National Championships, 43 SEC championships, the greatest fan base out there, and an unbelievably storied tradition (The Fabulous Five, Rupp's Runts, the Miracle in Mardi Gras, The Untouchables, the Comeback Cats).  We all know and appreciate this.  We've produced the likes of Pat Riley, Kyle Macy, John Pelphrey, Richie Farmer, Jamal Mashburn, Antoine Walker, Tayshaun Prince, and Rajon Rondo).  The rest of the country apparently sees us as "has-beens".  Let me tell you, we are still there, we have just had some bad luck recently. 

Today news came out that Coach Cal also sees UK like the Big Blue Nation does, which is a breath of fresh air since Billy Clyde seemed to never grasp the grandiose "culture" of Kentucky Basketball.  Calipari was quoted as telling his UM players that "Kentucky is the Notre Dame of college basketball" and that he couldn't let this offer from Lexington go without giving it some serious thought.  Some reports said that players left the meeting this morning convinced that he was leaving them, while others said that they were confident he'd return.  All day today people were celebrating that we had landed Calipari.  While it seems likely that he will be coming, with both parties confirming that they have expressed a mutual interest and are talking numbers for the contract, nothing is set in stone yet.  Rumors are that Calipari could be getting upwards of $6 million per year.  (Economic recession my butt.)

Apparently Memphis boosters are proposing counter offer after counter offer to Calipari, trying to entice him to stay.  But I've seen reports that he has turned those down, saying it's not about the money.  People are freaking out here in Lexington that he was meeting with the UM administration this afternoon, worried that he may change his mind.  But apparently he was only sitting down with them to give suggestions as to who they should hire to replace him.  Who knows if that's true, but if it is, that's awfully nice of him!  :)

I'm not ready to throw all my eggs in one basket and celebrate.  I think it's pre-mature.  And after having been burned a few years back during the UK/LSU football game, I'm not gonna fall for it again.  Cats, it ain't over til the fat lady sings.  Not until I see Calipari in a UK tie shaking the hand of Mitch Barnhart in front of thousands of crazy fans here in Lexington will I finally celebrate.  And the possibility that he may bring his top recruits (Henry who has a clause to get out of his LOI, Cousins who hasn't signed yet, and Wall who is still undecided) with him makes it even more exciting.  If that were the case, I truly believe UK would be in contention for a National Championship next year.  Look at this possible line-up (very unlikely to happen, but I can dream):

Starting 5:

     John Wall

     Xavier Henry

     Jodie Meeks

     DeMarcus Cousins

     Patrick Patterson

Bench:

(players that would probably start anywhere else in the country):

     Daniel Orton

     Darius Miller

     Jon Hood

(players that started or played significant time this year):

     Perry Stevenson

     Michael Porter

     Kevin Galloway

     Ramon Harris

     DeAndre Liggins

    

Hello Kentucky, there's a team.  If this happens (or anything close to it), the Commonwealth of Kentucky will definitely be throwing a CALIPARTY until the season starts!  And I think it's merited.  

Now we just have to make it official.  Please Barnhart, rope him in!