Pontificum Scriblerus

Okay, so today we grew some cojones and allowed ourselves a slight peek into the luxury of pharma sponsored lives - insofar as current ethical guidelines allow, of course. IE, we went to a sponsored drink event at the rooftop poolside bar at a swanky hotel here in town. It was very nice - but that's not what this is about. Let me preface this by saying that I met a med school friend at the conference; we're the same age. He's now got 2 little girls, and his wife stays home with them. Nope, no babies for me yet, I told him. His response: "Awww, that's too bad, parenthood is the best. [pause] It's absolutely impossible for women [doctors] though. I don't know how they do it." Cue uncomfortable laugh and lump in my throat... Sometime later, back at the swanky hotel... Perched on a barstool, with a lemon drop martini, we eyed the public, club jackets galore, cocktail dresses, high heels, glasses, even a hawaiian shirt or two, with the purpose of trying to ...

As an internist, I am a full fledged member of the community, board certified, practicing, and all. As a gastroenterologist, I've only just been allowed a glimpse so far, more to come as of July 1st. Getting my toes wet at the meeting this year is turning into an interesting sociology experiment. How do you get 10,000 people into one place and get them to wear the same back pack... There were 2,800 people signed up for the coursework part of the convention; most, I'd say around 65%, were aging white guys with huge foreheads. 10% were aging non-white guys with huge foreheads, mostly Indian and Asian. Another 10% were aging women that look like they've got something to prove. 10% were being hip and still hanging on to smatterings of youth, and about 5% were guys and girls still in training. The guys looked like part of a fraternity. The girls had very definitive jawlines. Can't be easy working with the frat brothers and the foreheads. And there was me. Developing my jawli...

On this trip to sunny Cali, I can't count how many times I've exclaimed, "This is like being in another country!" What with stucco, romantic beaches, palm trees and smells of the tropics in the air... Now we've arrived in San Diego, and had a chance to take a little stroll. Feeling right at home. First impressions: San Diego is for people who love the East Coast, and want to live it, but in 90 degree weather. Red brick houses, fire escapes, and streets paved with the same red brick, bar after bar after bar, hoards of young people out having fun on a Friday - on FOOT! - all screams Philly in July. Or Boston in July, really. We even saw an abnormal number of Red Sox and Celtics gear. But could a snobby New Englander really live here... Stay tuned!

Pale and translucent northeneres, we made our way to the beach in sunny Cali. Standing in a massive parking lot, trying to figure out how to put the top up in our Sea Bring convertible, while hoards of homeless people play the bongos in Venice beach, felt mildly surreal, but at the same time entirely congruous. Paradoxically. So it was no surprise or oddity whatsoever when a drawling voice coming from a giant truck asked us: "Do y'all know how to git to Hunnington Beach?" Ever helpful, we fumble with maps and guidebooks. The truck voice says, "We're from Texis." "We're from Boston." "You sound lack it." "You sound Texan!" A little more fumbling, this time with GPS. The voice says, "Are there bars in Hunnington? There are only 3 bars here!" When asked how many he needs, the voice answers, "Just wuuun, but if it's geewd!" The truck roars off. I realize I'm wearing a T shirt with an American f...

We've already discussed how I was a curious little kid - I mean, if I were a cat, I'd be dead before I hit age 10 - so, appropriately, when I was about 3 or 4 years old, I quizzed my mom on the origin of the species, with the proverbial, "Mom, where do babies come from?" I even remember that we were walking to catch a bus. Mom was (and is) a creative soul. She said, "Babies happen when a man and a woman love each other." Nice save, mom. Not exactly a lie, depending on how you define "love," yet, avoids revealing gory details of baby making. Satisfactory answer - one I spread about the sandbox. "My mom says..." When I was about 6, perhaps showing my future interests in all things physiological, I inquired as to exactly HOW babies come? As in, where do they actually come FROM? Out of WHERE? I think at this point we were at a beach? Maybe changing room? She said, "Mommies carry around the babies in their tummy, and then, when it's t...