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.