Archive for March, 2010

Food vs Study

March 29, 2010

Food eaten:

2 x wholemeal toast with baked beans

+ sliver of vegan butter

soy blueberry yoghurt.

Cup of tea.

Half of last nights mushroom stroganoff, rice, green peas, zucchini + snowpeas

Small reward of handful of potato chips in a portion controlled bowl

Soy strawberry yoghurt.

Small bowl of grapes.

Small bowl of watermelon chunks.

Large handful of potato chips.

Hot chocolate

Fruit pole snack fruit thingy

Handful of rockmelon chunks

Another cup of tea.

Orange juice

Microwaved leftover indian with chopped up tomato (added from guilt induced by watching Biggest loser)

Remainder of watermelon chunks eaten out of container

Remainder of rockmelon eaten out of container

Stray grapes eaten off carpet

Piece of freshly baked chocolate cake with sliver large dollop of vegan butter

Smaller piece of chocolate cake.

Spoonfuls of chocolate icing pooling at bottom of cake plate.

Remainder of potato chips from packet

Vegan mayonnaise sandwich.

Scoops of chocolate icing. With fingers.

Large glass of merlot.

Study completed:

One case.

Maybe

March 28, 2010


Considering moving south.
40 minutes south.
It would cut the trip home to see my family in half.
It would make the trip to uni 20 x longer
It would, however, make little difference to the 16,000km trip to the in-laws.

A quieter area.
More trees.
Closer to the beach.
Less concrete.
Less smoking bogans hanging around busstops
Won’t miss walking through their exhalations in order to buy groceries.

Will missbeing <4km from nearly every friend I’ve made here.

Next year I may be able to study at the hospital down south.

Dutch boy is applying for a course at the university down there.

It’s a little gamble.

I may not get into that hospital.

But I might.

Is it worth the travelling 40 minutes up and down the coast for the remainder of this year?

I haven’t lived more than walking distance away from work or uni in…

Six years.

I read some article in the SMH about the benefits of living and working in the same community.

I’d hated wasting >2 hours travelling to and from school.

I was never going to do that again.

Yet here we are.
Considering moving south.

The first of many procrastinations…

March 25, 2010

Me vs Study Week III

March 25, 2010

It is upon us.

The eve of study week.

I know because:

  • my floor is papered with pictures of people-insides.
  • our conversations consist of: “Darling, um, can you just…”  “leave the study area? Yes, already going”.
  • I’m blogging more, social-networking more + GOING TO THE GYM MORE.
  • I have a uniform (comfy jeans + 3 cotton shirts on rotation, as opposed to SWI’s black tights + grey jumper-of-knowledge + SWII’s Underwear-of-Heatwave)
  • the librarian knows my name. I know this because she used it when she requested I leave because they were trying to close…

In saying that, I did have a delightful study break when my Mum, niece  + brother visited today. Mum, bro + I had great time. Niece had ridiculously great time. Because when you’re 17 months old everything is ridiculously great.

Its ridiculously great because your day consists of smooshing chocolate cake into things, dancing, playing in parks, blowing kisses to strangers without getting arrested, squealing + making random siren noises, smashing icecream into your eyebrows + flinging noodles at people in restaurants.

I’d like to drop out of uni to be a toddler, please?

Advertising meets Medicine

March 24, 2010

EARLY HOURS OF MORNING, TRENDY BAR.

Trendy Ad friend from previous life: OH MY GOD! you had to do a GENITAL EXAM ON A REAL PERSON?

Me: Yeah! It was awesome. It’s just so great that people donate their time to be patients, you know? We couldn’t learn otherwis…*cut off*

TAFFPL: Ew. I just think it’s really weird that there is this whole subset of the population who are deemed “doctors” and people just, like, go to them and take their pants off and show them their sores and stuff.

Me: *blinks*

TAFFPL: It really freaks me out.

Me: Doctors, as a concept, freak you out?

TAFFPL: Totally.

Me: *blinks*

TAFFPL: *blinks*

Me: So how IS {insert trendy ad agency}?

TAFFPL (visibly relaxes now that horrible topic is behind us): Oh, it’s amazing! I’m working with accounts on this awesome campaign at the moment for {insert fast food chain}. It’s so satisfying to be able to make a real difference to the client. You know?

Me: oh yeah. I really, uh, miss that.

AMSA + impending doom

March 24, 2010

I’ve just registered for AMSA Convention. Waiting anxiously for my email to say “Yes, totally come and relieve yourself of all your funds”. I wasn’t interested last year because I thought it would be an orgy of drinking.
Which, funnily enough, is the exact reason why I’ve registered this year*.

The hope of an alcohol fueled week + interesting lectures is getting me through the next two weeks. Exams are looming. I’m accustomed to the inadequate feeling that has been sitting uncomfortably in my stomach. GIT, Endo + Repro went by so quickly. It’s hard to believe that we’re nearly in our first study week, while the first years aren’t even finished their first block. I look at their board during PBL and get flashbacks. It doesn’t seem that long ago and yet I struggle to remember any of the processes they’re studying. Integration block (where we remember all the stuff from the last two years) is going to be so hard. So hardy hard hard. But lets take another sip of our $3.99 wine, shall we and pretend its not going to happen?

In other news, after spending the weekend with my 17 month old niece I now think in Dr Suess verse.

I do not like green eggs and exams.

I do not like them, Sam-I-am.

*apart from it being in Hobart, where a good friend lives. And being extremely interested in the academic program. Aaaand the fact that I have a huge crush on Charlie Teo…

Bare chested

March 15, 2010


Lately I’ve been mesmerised by the bouncing breasts of women in the street. Young women. Old women. Fat women. Skinny women. Living where I do, they’re usually all quite prominent. If you catch me staring, sighing wistfully…it’s not what you think.

I have a scar on my chest.
It is not brave.
It does not remind me of a battle from which I came through better on the other side.
It is not stern reminder of the time I cheated death with a melanoma.

It sits between my 3rd intercostals as a 2cm x 0.5cm reddish flat reminder of that time  a few months ago when I went to a GP who removed the small inflamed pea-sized keratin cyst that had been ‘annoying’ me.

How’s that for an awesome conversation starter?
“Hey, cool scar!”
“Yeah I had an inflamed keratin cyst and it had to be removed. So…um…I got it removed. Yeah.”
“Oh”

I didn’t occur to me that I would have a scar, or how I would react. In a stupid self indulgent way I feel like I can now identify a little more with patients worried about scarring. Sure, mine is not classified as ‘disfiguring’ but it prevents me from wearing 70% of my previous wardrobe. It has me staring lustfully at other women’s breasts in shopping centres thinking “that 85 yr old is rocking her cleavage *sigh*”

I’m a little ashamed at how much of my identity was apparently linked to my percieved ability to wear low cut tops. I’m ashamed at how much of my thought-time has been taken up by wondering if people can notice I’m wearing foundation on my chest, if I do venture out in something that bares below the angle of Louis.

I’m ashamed, especially since this week we’re looking at breast pathology. So, one day, we’ll be able to differentiate carcinomas, benign tumours and mastitis etcetera. We’ll treat women who are dealing with the loss of a whole breast, both or worse. Women who would trade their metastatic disease in an instant for a measly little scar.

Robbin’s sure does know how to bring you down to earth.

Just keep swimming…

March 9, 2010

I went here again. After vowing I wouldn’t. But this time it was awesome. Probably because I was one of the more, um, enthusiastic campers this year. Maybe it was the anticipation of a night of inebriation. A night that I thought of surprisingly often during the week leading up to it, thinking “Yes, right now you are lugging three bags full of notes, a computer, your lunch AND dinner and don’t look like coming home before 9pm but…there is a alcohol-induced relaxation in four sleeps.”

I am now that someone who looks longingly forward to getting drunk. Having just looked at treating alcohol-dependance I’m aware that’s one big step in an interesting direction. I now understand my friend,who, when he started med 6 six ago, tried to explain that when you work so hard, you have to play hard. And fast. To get the maximum out of that allocated night.

My study routine has been more serious this year. More midnight oil. More caffeine. More stationary involved. There are scissors, glue sticks, coloured pens, sticky tab things and multiple books. I’m just barely keeping my head above the surface of the information tidal wave by grasping onto this ridiculous amount of stationary. It’s keeping me afloat.

I am slightly behind but I know I can make it up if I study all this weekend. Something I wouldn’t even contemplate last year, but now is just a given. The work has to be done. So it will be done. The end.

My bachelor-of-arts-habits just won’t cut it with Med. The long afternoon reading sessions curled up with a novel and a tea. Weekends of recipes that came with cooking times of days, not minutes. Ringing friends to go do something, anything, anywhere because “I’m bored”. Whole “days off”. These concepts just won’t fit inside this new year. They didn’t fit last year, no matter how hard I tried to make them.

Reading blogs for 10 minutes. Sitting on the sun-drenched balcony for a quick breakfast. Tea in the library. Meals of dip + bread + fruit. Packets in my locker. Supplements. Calling a neglected friend whilst walking to or from uni, or waiting for lunch to heat up in the common room microwave. Afternoons off. Sleeping.

These might just do.

For now.