Pontificum Scriblerus

I think I may have hit rock bottom Sunday. Of course, medical education is brutal, exploitative, masochistic - but I've always said, despite the negatives, it's totally worth it! Then, this weekend rolled around, at the end of which, for the first time, I seriously thought: I quit. It was an absolute ass storm. A repeated assault, lubeless. And just when I thought it was over, just when I was fluffing my pillow, they called me back in. I cried in the car, and threatened my husband that I'm quitting. Then I begged him to let me quit. Then, realizing that really, I can't quit, I just cried. I mean, what's left to do but cry when you FEEL gray hair growing and your face getting gaunter and gaunter? I'm too fucking old for this, I'm too grown up to be someone's bitch. To be brutalized and have my time stolen in order to take care of people who don't want to be taken care of. Who are looking to sue me. Who think they're doing me a favor by being my pa...

I post a lot of stuff about medicine and the medical profession, so, it occurred to me, that maybe when I bitch about how my world sucks, perhaps whatever readers I have can't relate because they don't understand this world. I wanted to write about how a hospital is organized and how things work within the system, and I wanted a diagram of the medical hierarchy - there is a hilarious representation somewhere that I wanted to show people. Instead, I came upon a blog entry by someone I don't know describing exactly what I wanted to describe, even using the same words. I read it and chuckled to myself, and tried to click on the writer's profile to see who it was - and found that this person had another blog . This one seemed like the person was no longer a resident, but an attending now. Then I looked at the date, and realized that the blog was dated 2007, and the first post was from 2004!! Funny, how things just don't change. Granted, this guy (or girl) clearly plagi...

Early on in the medical education you realize that you're going to go one of two ways: you're either Surgical or you're Medical. I'm using capitals here because they're more than just words; they represent a higher order of one's makeup, personality, work ethic, and human relations-wise. Surgical means you like discreet problem you can fix, get in, get out, be done with it; the patient says thank you, and you say see you later. You concentrate on one problem, and unless you subspecialize in something more cerebral, like transplant, you don't bother seeing the patient as a whole. You certainly don't bother with social issues like nursing homes, and most definitely avoid pontifications and indecisive trepidations. Surgeons get together at 5am so they can round on the floors, and then avoid the floors at all costs hiding out in the dungeons of the OR. They hire floormonkeys to work it upstairs: PAs, NPs, and interns. Past a certain point in your career, you...

Not sorry. Did we know he was gonna grow up to be my superman? Looking at this picture, I'm thinking, maybe a little boy isn't so bad either....

I'm sorry.

I'm on season 3 of Entourage, and I have a serious she-rection for Adrian Grenier. And I'm not ashamed. How can you not...

I was watching Comedy Central, and came upon a rerun of the Colbert Report. <a href="http://www.colbertnation.com/" target="_blank">The Colbert Report: Nixmas Tree Trimming - Kevin Bacon</a> The Colbert Report: Nixmas Tree Trimming - Kevin Bacon A couple of things. 1. Did Kevin Bacon always have such a deep manly voice? 2. Is Kevin Bacon looking a little piqued? He's awful pale, and his sharp cheek bones are practically skeleton like! 3. Why did Kevin Bacon go brunette and emo on us? He was much better with a Goyish cowlick. That is all.

Last Friday, we were carpooling to work at around 7 am. It had rained all night, and was promising to be a "yucky" day, and I only use that expressive word on very special occasions. All of a sudden, right on the town line between towns X and Y, the wet trees became icy trees. At the same time, my husband got a phone call from a co-worker who tells him that the power was out in the entire plant, and there will be a shutdown. Once I talked him into not dropping me off in the middle of the road, I allowed myself to unleash moderate amounts of envy at his unexpected day off. But that was just the beginning of a wonderous day, weekend, week. I was rushing that morning because I had a transplant meeting to go to, and it's serious business, especially for me, who suffers from chronic retardiness; everyone shows up super-on-time, and the thing starts on the dot - so imagine my surprise when I get there, punctually for once, and the room is empty. People are trickling in, e...

As much as I can promise myself that I won't allow my job to change my lifestyle and give up the things I like, after a while, it's inevitable, like death or taxes. I find that the longer I work, the more rooms in my house start to get ignored. The first room to go was the basement gym. When we were moving in, I was ecstatic, because even though I had to rescind my fancy shmancy gym membership downtown, there was a small, but complete, gym in the building. I conjectured that if I had trouble making it to the fancy gym because it's so far away from home, the small home gym would be the perfect solution, and money saver. Turns out, it wasn't the distance. Traversing the hallway to the fitness area turned out to be as much of a job as taking the T into town. The second room to bite the dust was the kitchen. Last year, I had all this time, so much, in fact, that I went as far as to take cooking lessons. I was totally into trying new things: I learned to make a Tarte Tatin, ...

I had a French cruller on Saturday for the first time in what, 10 years probably? and it was SOOO good... Melt in your mouth, let's get outta here before I get another one good. It got me thinking about all the other things I've tried to convince myself I hate. Successes: 1) Chinese food Complete and utter failures, resulting in guilty binges: 1) Pizza 2) Donuts 3) Cheap chocolate 4) Milk shakes 5) Burgers (oh, god, burgers) And things I hate but try to convince myself I love: 1) The gym And things I love and know I love: 1) My bed!! It's 9:30, way way past my bedtime.

I have a patient in the intensive care unit who's in with severe complications of alcoholism and on the brink of death. The ICU doctors told me that when they need to reach his father, the healthcare proxy, they have to call him because he doesn't come in. When they do call him, they have to phone in at a BAR! They call, and the barkeep picks up, just like on the Simpsons, passes the phone, and then they talk to the dad. And he then makes medical decisions. And for a little scatological humor... We've got another patient on the brink of death with C. Difficile, a terrible opportunistic infection of the gut. It happens when normal gut flora is wiped out by an antibiotic, and this bacteria overgrows and causes badness in the intestines. He's not responding to treatment. The next step?? STOOL transplant! Yup. They find a willing donor, usually a medical student who hasn't been around hospitals too much, take the... donation... and deliver it via nasogastric tube!!! I w...

I finally understand the 3/4 sleeve coat and why it was invented: for SF weather! I observe beautiful scenery and appreciate its uniqueness and opposite-ness from New England. I meet up with childhood friends all grown up, and find kindred spirits never die, but might become Republican. I stalk many little children, these two especially. I realize my own calf muscle weakness after scaling SF hills. I take in the Pacific, which is anything but pacified. I spend a week without eating meat - just didn't feel like it - and trying small plates and much wine both in the city and out. I meet Boston friends and we make good on California-nia knows how to party.

Once in a while, I meet an innocent ignoramus who'll ask me with a straight face: "do they celebrate Thanksgiving in Russia?" I usually reply, "Well, it's a holiday celebrating the Pilgrims arriving in America, so, no." Russians celebrate Thanksgiving here, though. I'd say that for most, it's the one big holiday with which all have developed a connection, even the skeptical ones, like my parents. It's actually become my absolute favorite holiday, even better than New Year and my birthday (past a certain age, birthday just... lose their festivity). Our first Thanksgiving here was... It needs backdrop. Back in Russia, we lived in what would here be a 1 bedroom apartment: mom, dad, myself, grandma, and grandma's sister. My mom postulates that she never felt like the three of us were ever an independent family unit until we left Russia, and she's probably right. We arrived to Boston in April 1990 as part of the late 80s early 90s wave of immi...

Please pardon my cheesiness with the title of this post. "Sur" in Russian is short for surrealism, and that is what I am referring to, not the actual beautiful region of Northern California. I'm just saying. SF seems surreal for several reasons. It's very East Coastish in the sense that it's a walking city, it has broad streets and tall buildings, but on the other hand, there are palm trees; it has a plethora of small businesses and mom and pop stores; it has all purpose bars and establishments like Europe; it has mountains in the background in either direciton, like Bilbao; and it's perpetually September here as far as I'm concerned, so the incongruity of Christmas trees and displays and ice skating in the square is... that's right, surreal. I was here last fifteen fucking years ago. That's also surreal; I was a real person then, with opinions and dramas. I remember that vacation very well, as I flew cross country on my own - after having missed a...

Today, I learned that there is such a thing as too much wine. I guess I knew that already, but it was reaffirmed today. Napa valley is gorgeous; I've never seen anything like it and I cannot believe it's America. And wine tasting was fun - for the first 3 wineries. Then, my tongue turned purple, and my tummy just turned. Unbelievably, we ordered more wine at dinner - it's like I just don't wanna listen to my body - at which point, I had premonitions of regurgitation. I think I'm done with wine for the rest of the trip, unfortunately. Oh - and I didn't see Sandra Oh anywhere, although I did have persistent visions of that guy from Sideways sticking it to the chubby waitress and then running nekked down the street with some near-frontal nudity. Or at least, twilight dangling in plain view. And I refused to drink Merlot.t

I remember when I was about 4, I was taken on my first aeroplane ride, from St Petersburg to Sochi. It was super fun. And I liked to fly: you suddenly get 6-8 hours for yourself to think, read, do nothing, with an excellent excuse. So, I don't understand, when did traveling become such a tremendous pain in the arse?? I don't remember the last time I enjoyed an airport experience at all! Yesterday, we boarded the plane, and things looked promising: in a full flight, we seemed to have been granted the only empty seat as the middle of our threesome. That's where the goodness ended, though. Imagine: doors shut, and the plane starts taxying, and all of sudden screeches to halt and backs up. 3 flight attendants race to the back of the plane - actually, about 3 rows behind us. I'm all, OMGeeee, is someone sick?? I'm like totally a doctor, maybe I should help! Hubby held me down. He's very pragmatic: Don't even think about it until they ask. Anyway, turned out, it w...

I have always had a love hate relationship with the T. On the one hand, I really hate driving; on the other hand, the T is like a crotchety old man who's always on the fritz and fails me constantly. But the good thing about taking the T was the fact that I got to spend at least 20 minutes a day outside. Although, of course, this is a double edged sword, because sure, it's lovely to stroll to the T on a sunny September afternoon, but imagine a pitch black February morning... The fall is my absolute favorite time of the year, when it's not too hot, not too cold; flexible fashions, bright colors, that amazing scent of rainy leaves permeating the air, all these things make me happy. But now that I'm driving everywhere, and spend most of my day in a dreary hospital without access to natural light, I didn't even notice the beautiful fall weather, and wasn't aware of how it switched from fall to freezing. Yesterday I made the trip back out to my old place of work in th...

When I get home from work - and I've said this before - the kitchen is a daunting prospect. The responsibility of dinner looms in the not-so-far distance. I'm always looking for something that won't take me away from my must-see-TV and my must-lie-down couch. Plus, I'm always looking to get some vegetation into our carnivorous diet, and that's difficult when your life partner won't eat them if he can see them. This recipe is an oldie but a goodie; I remember it from childhood, when I also hated vegetables. I ate these, though. Zucchini Pancakes About 2 zucchinis, grated -I have a food processor with a grating attachment. makes things deliciously easy 2 scallions, chopped 1/4-1/2 cup flour 1 or 2 eggs a good tumble of feta cheese crumbles a handful mint, chopped a handful of basil, chopped oil for cooking sour cream for eating 1) Wrap the grated zucchinis in a paper towel, and squeeze as much water out of them as possible. You can do this twice. You want them dry...

This is excellent if you want to waste some time, love fashion, crave shopping, but hate malls and spending money. Hours upon hours of fun. http://www.polyvore.com

It's entirely possible that aliens have invaded my body and mind. Less than a year ago, I was still dreaming of a loft downtown, a life without a car, crowds and pavement. Now, I suddenly find myself trawling Boston.com's real estate section for houses set on no less than an acre of land. I don't understand this: I hate where I live in the burbs right now! You only have to look at the post below. Malls, highways, paucity of sidewalks - all elicit derision and patronization. Of course, we live with all the inconveniences of the burbs, and none of the conveniences, ie yard... room.... privacy... "You're growing up," I've been told. But why is suburban living any more grown up than city living? I've picked out a few places already. http://re.boston.com/sales/View_Ulisting.asp?lid=4905-70824845 http://re.boston.com/sales/View_Ulisting.asp?lid=2190-70817166 http://re.boston.com/sales/View_Ulisting.asp?lid=2191-70597110 http://re.boston.com/sales/View_U...

I spent all day at home, unprecedentedly, so by 6 pm I was stir crazy. Let's do something, coffee, drink, anything! We had a choice of about 5 Chinese/Japanese/Sushi restaurants, or TGIF or Olive Garden. So freaking depressing. So we went to - where else - the mall. I feel like a freaking 1980s valley girl: Wanna go to The Mall? It was kinda nice. There was a fountain, and some birch trees, and I fully enjoyed a cappuchino at the Nordstrom cafe. But still, the mall?? It's like I live in the real America now or something. I drive down the long road from home to work, and I pass 4 CVSs, and 3 Wallgreens (across the street from each other), 2 Borders, 2 Stop and Shops, 2 Trader Joes, at least 3 McDonalds, and countless Dunkin' Donut. At least no one can fault us for inconsistency.

This here is probably the only picture I have of all three of us together. This is circa 1999, little bro is recently born, I'm 20, and sister is 13. I don't know if you can tell, but we all happen to have identical noses, eyes, and mouths (although my sister's eyes are blue-green). It's pretty amazing. Hence the title of this post, which happens to be a play on words: Eugene, You-gene... Please ignore the unfortunate shadows on the wall that make both of us look like coneheads. Really, the only one who looks good in this picture is the baby. And that's another interesting thing about this picture. This is probably the only time in my life, and I know this is very hard to believe, but, it's probably the only time I was ever in such proximity to a baby, and allowed to hold one. Seriously. I'm thinking back. There was one other instance, that I can't really live down, when, at age 11, I held my neighbor's baby daughter, then laid her on the cou...

Today, my education experience consisted of a morning in transplant clinic. One patient, a 36 year old man had a living related donor transplant, from his sister. That means his sister had a chunk of her liver removed and engrafted into the patient. I thought, wow, now that's selflessness. Then I thought, but he's her brother! What would I do in her situation? Truth is, I don't know. I grew up as an only child in my household. It's not fair to say that I don't have any siblings, because I do, 1 half-sister, 1 half-brother, and 1 step-brother, from previous-slash-second marriages, none of whom ever lived with me. And actually, out of the people of my "generation," ie, generation 0.5 Russian immigrants, I only know a handful who have siblings. One of my friends had 2 siblings, and that was unheard of. Her mother had special privileges as a "Hero-mother." My bff has a brother, and their relationship is too complicated to understand. Hubby has a brot...

Let's talk about PMS. I have been having, you know, "cycles," and PMS for almost 20 years; plus, I'm a physician. So how is it possible that it surprises me every time? EVERY time? It's always like... Gosh, Why do I feel so shitty/tired/sad/irritable/emotional (circle one or more)? I just don't get it... And then... Pow! Ooooohhhhh... Now I get it.

It's really late at night - well, for me, anyway, since I've become lame - and I'm having an attack of graphomania. This happens, and it must be dealt with. However, difficulties arise when I have nothing interesting to say. Plus, it's so late, I can't make the effort to truly develop a thought and express it eloquently. So, I'm gonna drop this idea off here, and perhaps, I'll expand on it later. We were talking last night about whether or not we'll have a Christmas tree in our house when we have kids. Now, the backdrop here gets a little confusing and involved. I'm a Jew - there's no denying it. He's a Catholic - albeit, a non-practicing Church disapproving one. Neither one of us really practices, but try to put our background in the corner, and both get flushedly defensive. However, to throw another monkey into the soup, I'm a Russian Jew. This means that in addition to having basically no religion after being raised by skeptical parent...

I'm so freaking sick of talking about the election!! Also sick of all the viral videos about the election, even the funny ones. But this one is really funny.

Halloween is one of those holidays that has a triple age distribution as far as enjoying the holiday goes. The little kids get the first peak, up until the age of what, 12? Trick or treating, candy, all that. Then, college kids get the second peak, girls dress up slutty, and everyone gets drunk. The third peak comes when you've got little kids of your own, and Halloween becomes a family affair. I was driving today and was surprised to see trick or treaters all over the street - even in my dumpy neighborhood!! I wish I was a little kid who'd dress up.... Or knew someone who had little kids who dress up... Or lived near some kids that dress up... Or had some kids that dress up.... Or got dressed up myself... Instead, I went home and thought of Halloweens of yore. The irony of this picture is, at the time it was taken, I happened to be working at a state institution, running the prison ward. Therefore, my costume is quite true to life - well, except the short shorts and high heele...

Ever since I started working in hospitals, I noted how nurses in places tend to be the same age and have similar names. It's either Cathy (sometimes, Kathy), Donna or Patricia. I always figured, if you stand in the middle of a floor, and say "Cathy!" really loud, 3 nurses will turn around - and probably 1 speech therapist. The other day, I was trying to make my way through the extraordinarily poorly designed and over-crowded nurses' station on the 6th floor, when I found myself blocked by a wall of man: two surgical interns, Ike and Gil, were in my path. They're each about 6 feet 7 inches, hugely muscular (Ike's arm is my thigh, but with muscle), bald, very black, and wearing the same exact blue scrubs and blue surgical caps. Making my way past them, I ended up right between them, and said, "Jeez, you guys are so tall, I'm craning and straining my neck just to look at you!" In my head I thought, "I should make a wish." They answered, al...

Hubby is in distress today - understandably - a close coworker has passed away. He was diagnosed with some sort of tumor, then developed pneumonia, and died very quickly. He probably did everything right: ate the right things, exercised. He worked hard, saving for a happy old age. He was 48 years old. He had little kids. He played golf just last week. On the other hand, here I am, with a service full of people who've done nothing but abuse themselves with alcohol and drugs, but are now priority number 1 for us. I'm not suggesting that there are some who deserve to live more than others. But....

I have no words. http://www.boston.com/news/local/articles/2008/10/28/uzi_recoils_questions_echo/?rss_id=Boston+Globe+--+Front+Page

I don't know in what sort of left-handed vortex I am trapped, but I definitely think I'm close to the twighlight zone. After morning rounds today, instead of incessant screeching of pleasant alert # 2, I was surrounded by near-deafening silence. I did all my dictations and revisions, and was still bored. My afternoon procedures were canceled, and not a single new cirrhotic showed up today. I took a little desk nap, in the tradition of my research year hiatus. I tinkled around gmail, but my friends have real jobs, so my usual chatting buddies weren't available. My favorite shopping sites are blocked by websense. My mind was starting to get inundated by melancholy thoughts. I actually resorted to reading a text book, but absorbed none of the text. This is so freaking weird, am I gonna get into a car accident on the way home? (spit spit spit, knock knock knock)

Did anyone know this? : Advocates: RI Becoming a Haven for Prostitution Last Edited: Sunday, 26 Oct 2008, 1:08 PM EDT Created: Sunday, 26 Oct 2008, 1:08 PM EDT PROVIDENCE, R.I. (AP) -- Brothels are booming in Rhode Island. Advocates say the state, one of only two that considers prostitution legal as long as it occurs indoors between consenting adults, is becoming a haven for those forcing women into prostitution. Melanie Shapiro of the Rhode Island Coalition Against Human Trafficking, said Rhode Island used to have just a handful of brothels. Today there are 28. Donna Hughes, a University of Rhode Island professor studying international sex trafficking told The Providence Journal the state is becoming the sex trafficking capital of the Northeast. While sex trafficking is a federal crime, there are few prosecutions because women are too afraid to testify against the men who forced them into prostitution. ------ Information from: The Providence Journal, http://www.projo.com/ Copyright 2...

Okay, people. When Prince wanted to be known as a random symbol, we understood. When Puff Daddy became Puffy and then P Diddy, we dealt with it. But this has gone TOO FAR!! http://music.yahoo.com/read/news/61803020 Made my name into a porn star! And named an album after it?! And what's with changing names anyway? From now on, I wanna be known as SexyMama1978. With the number. It's my alternate personality that allows me to be... whatever!

In the wake of a discussion with a superior on how I can do better, and amidst the expectatory fever of the days before my "TALK" with the division chief on Wednesday, my mind has clearly come undone and is acting out. Last night, I dreamt that I had a liver tranpsplant. Directly into my right side. There was a bruise, but it was going away. In my dream, I run my fingers over the numb skin of the scar, and muse about the miracles of medicne. The scar is vertical instead of oblique, the way it would be in real life. All this month I was telling my patients: You cannot drink any more. Not even a sip. Not even from someone else's drink. Not even a non alcoholic beer. In my dream, I drink a glass of wine with dinner. First, it's red wine. Then it's a glass of champagne. Then, awash with fear and anxiety, I obssess about it. In cold sweat, tell myself, it's just a little, it won't be bad. (but what if it is) If no one knows, it didn't happen. (but what if I...

Accidents do happen. Take me, for example. I got here by accident. Managed to slide under the door into med school, cruised through residency, pretended to do research... But here is where, I think, they're going to expose me as the fraud that I am. I've been summoned to the principal's office - reasons unknown to me. I've never been "TALKED TO" (imagine air quotes) before. The secretary, instead of encouragement, smiles, embarrassed, and says she has no idea with this meeting is about. Translation: you're about to get reemed... PLUS I'm scheduled to present in front of surgeons and attendings and other fellows while on service. In about 15 mintues. I'm a hivey freaking mess.

Roses are red Violets are blue My house is a jungle And it smells like one, too. Every day I've been walking in and taken aback by the overwhelming smell of lilies, and whatever other tropical flowers... Makes me sneeze - and smile!! Such gorgeous bouquets... I wish I had a bigger house. Thanks, fellas!

My friend Deepa is so cool! Last year she met David Sedaris and he laughed at her dirty humor!! Imagine my excitement when she rang me and suggested I go with her to this year's series - I'd appreciate it more than her husband - and it would be the first time we'd see each other in 5 months! (Goddamned suburbs) I was coming up with witty things to say all day. XXXXX!!! Fail!!! We went up smiling stupidly like little girls about to ask a boy out, and couldn't think of anything better to say than "It was just my birthday." He said, "And how old did you turn?" And we made it a million times worse by answering "How old do you think?" Ugh. Lame-o. We didn't interest Mr Sedaris in the least, not even for 20 seconds. He was so done with us. He signed our books, and even before he was finished he was already looking towards the snaking line for the next [hopefully] more interesting fan. To add insult to injury, when told that I was n...

This picture does not justice to how handsome dad is.

An uppreciated piece of trivia about me is that I know how to properly sear a scallop. I was taught by a chef via casual conversation - but I filed it away, and susequently tried it at home and it worked. Scallops are almost as easy and fast to make as shrimp, and so make for an excellent weeknight dinner with some white wine, maybe steamed veggies, rice... So, courtesy my past acquaintance, here's how I'd do it. Weeknight Properly Seared Scallops 1) The scallops must be purchased from a fish monger - ideally; if this is not possible, ask the guy at the fish counter to make sure that the scallops are "dry," AKA diver's scallops. This means that they are not soaked in any kind of solution prior to retail, as most others are, which takes away from the taste and texture, and alters the way the scallops cook. 2) The pan you use should NOT have a non-stick covering on it. This is because you need a chemical reaction, called the Maillard reaction, to happen when you sea...

What an excellent piece of fluff internet journalism! http://www.thesun.co.uk/sol/homepage/woman/article1784065.ece First off, what the hell does this have to do with the recession? Is everything now required to be tied to the recession, even sex? Is the only reason to engage in sex these days the fact that we have no money to shop? Secondly, if one sets out to give sexual advice, one should be knowledgeable enough not to start spouting off truistic banalities we've all heard before, the ones that have been stenciled into rubber stamps by Cosmo and Co., are used daily by talk show hosts, and encourage us to be powerful independent females who don't need to smoke. Four secrets of amazing sex?! "Maintain a level of passion with your partner?" That's a secret? "Concentrate on your senses?" And, of course, 5 easy steps to a new you in bed. Achieve orgasmic results, fast. Step 1, overcome your insecurities, forget your jiggly thighs, and you're all set. ...

I'm not wearing one. I HATE Mondays.

This weekend, my BFF finally made an honest man out of her BF. Two weeks ago, she was here for final preparations, and it happened to come out that I tend to cry at weddings. This simple fact caused so much uproar and incredulity, that I was partially offended: why is it so surprising? Is it because I'm such a heartless bi-atch that I am dead inside and nothing gets to me? To show all the people out there who believe that I have no soul, I dedicate this entire post to the wedding. Here we have the beautiful bride-to-be in her gorgeous hotel suite (bigger than her actual living quarters), sporting bridal bunny ears provided by the mother-in-law to be. We had a small gathering of 2 mother hens, 2 regular hens, some little chickens, and 1 gay guy in the hotel the night before - champagne flowed and dirty jokes were made. Right after, I spent the night in bed with the bride, and we spasmed together all night long. Actually, I spasmed - apparently, I have seizures in my sleep - hence, t...

I've said it before, and it remains true, that as soon as I start working, I stop cooking. But a family of two healthy adults can't survive on bologna and cereal, so tough times call for tough measures, and throughout the years, we've discovered more than acceptable substitutes for cooking. I know that plenty of people have the same problem - and takeout pizza does nothing for one's waistline, so, I thought I'd share our non-cooking secrets. Non-Cooking Cooking: Whole Foods rotisserie chicken and mashed potatoes -It costs $10 for the chicken, which is not that much more than to actually buy a chicken and roast it - minus all the trouble and waiting -It's juicy and delicious -It feeds 2 people for 2 days IKEA Rosti -It's a fried potato pancake -takes no time to make whatsoever -You can pile stuff on top (cheese, ham, eggs, spinach, tomatoes, anything you want) and make a large meal out of 2-3 of them IKEA Swedish Meatballs -I don't want it to look like I ...

Not exactly, but I wanted the gist of the great Lennon song... Where exactly has this year gone? What have we done during this time? Sigh. At least we still have the Muppets.

During residency these days, the only true overnight call is in the ICU. But it's serious: every third night in the hospital, working 20 hrs, maybe an hour or two of sleep, and then almost always a full 8 hours the next day. You gotta stay for rounds, and then finish your work: pre round from 6-8, 8-12 rounds, 12-2 finish up stuff. Anyway, the post call feeling is so awful, it's like an illness. So, we came up with a pathognomonic constellation of symptoms. Behold, the Post call triad: 1) Somnolence 2) Flatulence 3) Inability to handle secretions After a while, it developed into a pentad: 1) Somnolence 2) Flatulence 3) Inability to handle secretions 4) Slurred speech 5) Priapism (where appropriate) I'm almost glad to discover the consistency of the syndrome, seeing as it occurs during at home pager call as well. Almost glad. Almost.

You know that feeling when you realized you fucked up? The one where your heart drops to the floor, you feel faint, and get blurry vision? Immediately followed by a surge of incredible anxiety? And also, you know how when a really nice person is upset with you, it's 10 times worse than a mean person? And how no one really gives a shit about excuses or reasons for why you fucked up? On the other hand. Whose fault is it that I'm so exhausted that I pass out, and cannot wake up to the sound of the pager?? FOUR times?? ME!! The one who wakes up when the wind blows! Now working on getting the groveling, apologetic, guilty look off my face. Shape up, doctor!!

If you think about it, the tree is an amazing creature. As a tree grows and ages, it becomes more and more difficult to deliver water to the top from the roots, thereby setting an upper limit to its height. Eventually, distal limbs become too "expensive" to support, and stop developing; this is why the topmost branches are the smallest. Despite the deficit, the tree is still able to put a new ring around its trunk every year. The paradox is in that the taller the tree gets, the more difficult it is to support itself, the less new branches it grows, and therefore, the less new leaves to carry on respiration that it needs to conduct photosynthesis to produce said support. The trunk rings do get thinner and thinner with each passing year, but eventually, they cannot get any thinner - and distal branches sacrifice themselves and die off. To stay alive, a tree has to be small, and grow slowly. It's either an ecological system of checks and balances, or a perpetual limbo create...