An Ode to Brussels Sprouts

I've been on a real cooking spree lately.  The problem with that is that I am quickly tiring of my side dishes.  You can only eat so much broccoli, spinach, or side salad.  I got adventurous this week when I saw some fresh brussels sprouts at the grocery.  Ed said that his mom used to make them when he was growing up and they were one of his favorite veggies.  I was hesitant, mostly because I remember hating them as a child, but also because I've never made them from "scratch" before.  But I figured hey, I'll give it a shot.  Maybe my taste has matured since I last ate them, which was circa 2003, when I moved out of my parent's house.  My mom made us Jones kids suffer at the dinner table about twice a year when she'd serve them.  I hated walking into the kitchen and having that sulfurous smell smack me in the face, knowing it was going to be a long night before I finally got the courage to eat them and be dismissed.  To make matters worse, my mom would make us drink milk for dinner.  Milk + Brussels Sprouts.  Sick!  And then to top it off, the icing on the cake, my mom never made my dad eat his brussels sprouts.  She'd always put them on his plate, but he'd ignore them and she wouldn't say a word.  I couldn't wait til the day I was a grown up and got to choose what I ate!  Luckily, we had a crazy cat growing up that lived for brussels sprouts night.  When mom wasn't looking, we'd "accidentally" drop one on the ground and our cat would run over and go to town with it.  And once she'd gotten the taste of one, she spent the rest of the dinner trying to jump on the table to steal them off our plates.  It was awesome.

After about an hour of online recipe searching, I decided on what looked like the best way to make them.  Every recipe I read emphasized the importance of not over-cooking them because that is what caused the sulfurous smell to be released.  I was encouraged.  Maybe there was hope for this vegetable after all.  I boiled them in 1/2 inch water for 7 minutes (recipe called for 8 minutes), then threw them into some butter and garlic and let them sizzle for a few minutes.  They smelled heavenly.  Ed kept remarking how great the kitchen smelled.  I was genuinely excited.  This was about to be breakthrough.  I had sworn off brussels sprouts from my diet for the last 8 years. 

Alas, they were just as bad as I had remembered.  The outer layers that had gotten soaked in butter and garlic were pretty tasty, but those inner layers were as bitter and nasty as ever.  Ed, being the sweet heart that he is, acted like he was enjoying them for the first few.  He even threw in a "mmmmmm...delicious!" remark.  By the third one, I was almost gagging.  I told him it was ok, he didn't have to lie, and he slowly let his guard down and agreed that they were repulsive.  We then argued on who had to eat the rest of them since we don't like to waste food.  Luckily, Ed suggested putting some hot sauce on them to mask the flavor, and it worked!  They weren't half bad after that.  Thank goodness I served a delicious pot roast and fruit salad along with those brussels sprouts, or else it would have been my worst failure yet as a wife.

Needless to say, I am not going to make my poor husband or kids suffer through a meal with brussels sprouts.  It's inhumane - cat food, I tell you.  Unfortunately, this just leaves me right where I was before - in dire need of new vegetable side dishes.  Please, help a young wife out!  :)

Momentary Escape

It seems rare these days that I have time to sit and do nothing.  I'm not saying that my schedule is busier than the average person, it's just that if I have a few hours off, I usually entertain myself with movies, eating, or friends/family.   It seems about once or twice a year I find myself alone for an extended period of time, bored of watching TV, having already completed chores that need to be done, and I have time to reflect.

Ed is on psychiatry call at the hospital tonight, and I just spent the last 2 hours cleaning our room (yes, it was that messy).  So, what do I do when I finally sit down to relax?...get on Facebook of course.  Instead of reading the latest status updates, or stalking some friends, I decided to look through some of my old photo albums.  You wouldn't think that would be exciting, considering I have all those pictures saved on my computer, and I was the one that posted them in the first place.  But tonight there was no agenda, no hustle or bustle, so I let my mind take a stroll down memory lane.  Before I knew it, my heart started aching.  Literally, I felt an emotional squeezing sensation in my chest.  Then my stomach started getting hyperactive.  Before I knew it, I was tearing up.  Here I am, sitting on my couch in the dark, all alone, with a computer on my lap, crying.

Why, you ask?  I have no idea. Which is why I decided to blog about it.  Maybe putting something down on paper would clear it up.  So from where did the emotions arise?  Are they happy or sad tears?  I think both.

Happy tears because I look back at all the incredible times I had growing into the woman I am today.  All the fun-loving, energetic, smart, talented people that I have come in contact with throughout my adult life.  I got to travel all over the world with my AIA soccer girls.  I was in the best shape of my life, battling my heart out on the field every Friday night and Sunday afternoon.  I was so proud every time I put on my jersey with either Kentucky or Texas A&M on the front.  Joyfully, I remember how I protected my heart and my body, saving it for my husband.  Happy tears pouring out, each symbolizing a different way I have been blessed with my experiences and friendships.

Sad tears for all the regrets.  Heartache for lost opportunities to share my faith with people I was with every day, but was too afraid they would think I was a freak if I showed them who I really was.  So many of the pictures I look back at from my UK undergraduate days, I can see how much I longed to be accepted.  It brings back the memories of always thinking I wasn't as pretty as my friends or as cool as my teammates.  Also, grief for not keeping up with the friends, especially those at A&M.  People that I love just as much today as when I was with them daily 3+ years ago, but don't talk to nearly as much as I know I should.

Most of all, I believe I cry because I know I can't recreate those times again.  As much as I want to go back to College Station and meet up with my best friends and create new memories, it won't be the same as when we were really in the moment.  I'll never be an Aggie soccer babe again.  I'll never have the hard rock abs and killer legs.  I'll never be single and free to do what I want, when I want.  I'll never get to have that first time "ah ha" moment when my faith became real.  I can't help but ponder, did I really take full advantage of that time in my life?

Where does that leave me now?  Tonight.  June 10, 2011.  I'm now very happily married, less than a year from becoming a doctor.  I have a wonderful home, a supporting family living in the same city, my health, and a future that is beautifully uncertain.  I'm filled with hope for how God will use me - as a wife, mother, physician, and friend.  Will I be moving half way around the world to Hawaii this time next year?  Or maybe I'll be going back to God's country, Texas?   Who knows?  But I do know that in a few years from now, I'll look back at my time during medical school and shed tears of joy and sorrow, much like tonight when I long for my undergraduate days.

My heart is full.  :)

Yet another one bites the dust.

My beautiful Maid of Honor from my wedding last summer, Alexandra, has officially tied the knot.  I had the privilege of being her Matron of Honor this past weekend in Houston.  Our friendship means the world to me.  We've only known each other for 6 years, and 3 of those have been spent 1000+ miles apart, but nothing can separate our souls.  I'm the jock, she's the sorority chick...and we just click.  Love you so much, Alex.  You were a stunning bride.

The wedding was AWESOME...great food, beautiful flowers, fantastic band.  A perfect evening.  Congrats again, Alex and Chris!  Hope you're having fun in St. Lucia!!!

"We got Kentucky back."

Cats beat UNC 76 - 69 tonight in the East Regional Final.  

I'm still way too excited to string together two thoughts, so all I'm gonna say is GO BIG BLUE!  It's such a thrill being a UK student while all this is going on.  Campus is going crazy.  Cops are everywhere.  I only wish I could go with my family to the Final Four next weekend, but I'll be cheering my behind off from here in Lexington.  Thanks, Jorts, for giving us the "Kentucky" back that we all know and love.   And it feels oh so sweet to do this by beating Ohio State and UNC.

Final Four bound, baby!  Houston, watch out! 


LOVE this team.

Happy Things

Home-cooked meals.

UK basketball wins.

Weddings.

Picking fresh veggies and flowers from the garden.

Adorable nieces.

Approaching College Station, TX on Highway 6, blaring the Aggie war hymn with the windows down, warm air in your face.

Smell of freshly cut grass.

Quiet evenings in with the hubby.

Post work-out highs.

Thinking about how cute my mixed kids are going to be.

Freckles.

Sunsets.

And of course, Disney World - The Happiest Place on Earth.




These are a few of my favorite things.

Thanks, but no thanks

I'm on my Emergency Medicine rotation right now and my lack of experience and confidence is biting me in the tail.  Unlike our other rotations during third year, we are not assigned to a particular resident or attending physician who is to mentor, teach, and tell us what to do.  I am completely on my own when I show up to the ER.  I can do whatever I want whenever I want it.  Freedom.  Some thrive off of this (ie my husband).  Others struggle (me).  We have a list of things we have to get done during this short rotation, such as starting IVs, placing a foley and NG tube, doing a stint and laceration repair, etc.  But there is no one there to make sure I get it done.  It's up to me, which means I have to steal it away from one of the residents.  I am not nearly aggressive enough to get in on the good stuff.

Confession: I am a third year medical student who has never put in an IV.  We spend so much time book learning and do not get nearly enough hands on education.

Yesterday I decided I needed to "man" up and just do it.  I went up to one of the EMS guys and asked him to show me how to place an IV on the next patient that comes in and then let me do it from then on.  He was very accepting and was excited about teaching me, so after showing me on the first patient, he grabbed me to take me to the next room where it was my turn to try.  I walked into a room with him to find a neurotic 45 year old man that had interesting views on life, and we were his audience for the moment.  He explained to me how he doesn't trust MDs, only DOs.  Army nurses are the only nurses that know how to place an IV because they are taught in stressful situations.  He then told me how he never lets attractive doctors near him because they only got where they are because of their looks, not their brains.  He then looks straight at me and says, "Yeah, so that means you better not touch me."  Ummm, thanks for the complement, kind of.

I botched my next opportunity on a guy that was screaming bloody murder as I tried to stick him.  Luckily the nurse messed up twice after me (well, luckily for my ego, not for the patient) and another nurse had to come in and give it a try.  My confidence was down to zero at this point, but the EMS guys came to the rescue.  They let me practice on them.  Yes, that's right, they sacrificed their own bodies for a scared little med student who had no idea what she was doing.  I am forever grateful.

Today I was assigned to Fire Station #1 in Lexington for an EMS ride-a-long.  Once again, the paramedics were awesome and let me do whatever I wanted.  I didn't get to stick the first patient we picked up because she was having seizures and was mentally handicapped plus had CP, so not the easiest thing in the world.  But the second patient was perfect.  A young, mostly healthy woman who was having abdominal pain.  Easy stick opportunity.  That is, until mama hopped in the back of the ambulance with us.  When the medic explained to the patient that I was a medical student and would love to try to start the IV, she was cool about it.  As I moved into position to start, the mom whispered to the Major on board, "She's suffering enough, I don't think we should make her suffer any more."  "Huh?" he responds.  "I'd really rather the medical student not touch my daughter."  That wasn't awkward at all.

And then to end the day, the Chief of the station came up to me and started chit chatting.  After about 5 minutes, he asks what program I am with.  I tell him I'm a 3rd year medical student on my ER rotation, and he looks at me funny and says, "What?  A medical student?!  How old are you?"  "26, sir.  Why, how old did you think I am?"  "19, tops."  In some ways I guess that's a complement, but at the same time, I wish I looked a little more mature.  No wonder people don't want me sticking them.  I wouldn't want a 19 year old poking me with a needle either.

Stereotypes

Since entering the medical profession I have learned there is a lot of competition and, dare I say, contempt amongst physicians.  I had no idea until I started clinicals this year and have had the opportunity to see physicians bash each other time and time again.  Here are a few examples of what I've learned.  Note: these are NOT my stereotypes, but ones that definitely exist.  I do not agree with many of them, and there obviously are exceptions to the rule, but they are pretty amusing.

1. Pediatricians hate surgeons.  In their minds, surgeons exist only to torture their little, precious patients and are the real enemy, not the disease.

2. Cardiologists think they are God's gift to mankind.

3. Surgeons think OB/Gyn physicians are butchers.  They get so little surgical training compared to a surgery residency, there is no way they could do a good job.

4. Everybody hates Dermatologists because they work ~30 hours a week, have no call, work no weekends, and make 4x as much as the average physician.

5. Neurologists are obnoxious. 

6. If you like people and have an ounce of personality, then you don't go into Anesthesiology, Radiology, Pathology, or Emergency Medicine.  Basically, you don't do the "shift work" fields of medicine.

7. It's Emergency Medicine versus the world.  I have to say this is the strongest rivalry in medicine.  I have had at least 5 different physicians in different fields ask me what I am going into, and then respond, "Oh thank God, not Emergency Medicine."

8. Family physicians are the stupid people who can't get into any other field.

9. Psychiatrists are lazy.

10.  Internal medicine doctors think surgeons don't know how to think.  They are nothing but a good pair of hands who have mastered a skill, and their brains bring nothing to the intellectual table.  Surgeons think internal medicine doctors never do anything, they just sit there all day wasting people's time and resources by taking days to diagnose pneumonia, only after ordering a battery of tests to rule out the most crazy diseases in the world.