Pontificum Scriblerus

Ignore the above "pun" as the ramblings of a very tired test-taker who has had it with the very word "boards." What I was trying to convey by using such a terrible play on words is that taking the GI boards was torture. However, it is over - for now. I walked out of that indescript building on Devonshire Street thinking, okay, THIS is when they all will surely find out that I have been faking it all along. As I posted on FB for all to see: for 40% of the questions, all the answers looked right. 40% none of them looked right; 5% were about nutrition - and anything with the word "selenium" in it was taking a hit for the team. For the last 15%, I just simply had no clue and picked "a." The next day, when I rejoined reality, I had some crazy amount of patients to see, and faked them ALL out by getting it done. It was the same building where I took the medicine boards a mere 4 years earlier. Has it really been 4 years? That's a really long ...

My family and I packed up our belongings and moved for the 9th time in the last decade. So, after a brief happy period living where I always thought I'd live, I've moved progressively further away with each uprooting. We had an F town, then half hour west past the boroughs, and now, I'm in absolute no man's land! It's not quite the Cape, it's not quite Rhode Island, it's past the South Shore... It's the hole inbetween. Furthermore, I have landed squarely in the woods. I mean, there is a veritable jungle outside my door. The house we got is this little box-like cottage with windows all around, which, by the way, was especially fun last Sunday during hurricane Irene. Enclosed in our little box, watching the trees bend, and the backyard get littered with what used to be mighty branches, I felt like Dorothy, whose little trailer was about to be blown off to Oz. Incidentally, we were in the hurricane hotspot of the heaviest power outages and largest a...

So, incidentally, Munchkin turned one. It was about a month ago that this happened. And I still really can't believe it. It is completely and totally cliche to say this, but, oh my god, where did the year go?? I mean, forgive me, but cliches do come from somewhere; they come from things that happen over and over. And no matter how many people told me, over and over, that time flies by, and that they grow up too fast, I still cannot believe HOW fast! I had a squealy little meatball, and over the last year, he has matured into an intelligent, fully functioning, very opinionated infant - toddler, now! - with likes, dislikes, and a distinct personality. For example, when he was about 7 weeks old, my mom and I dressed him up in a little red suit and took him out to Zaftig's. I put a little red sox hat on him, because it matched his red jumper, and I'm one of those crazy moms who matches her infant's clothes to, like, his receiving blanket. (life is better when esthetic...

I have a cold. Actually, this is the mother of all colds. We've met before - at least twice this year - but I was under the impression that the mother of all colds takes a vacation during the summer months. I guess I was incorrect. What happened was, we went to a party this weekend. Well - no, first, there was an insane heat wave, and air conditioners took over the world. Then, there was a party. I got all dressed up in a fuscia cocktail dress and espadrilles, did my hair, and put on the fancy perfume. I don't even remember the last time I did this, so I was pretty excited to recall that I have a fun-loving, let's -get-out-of-the-house side. I had probably about 3 glasses of sangria, which was probably enough to put me over the edge and make me do some embarrassing things, like laugh really loud and make inappropriate commentary about perfectly innocent strangers. And, of course, immune system-wise, the sangria almost surely made susceptible to legionella's eage...

It's July 15th - originally, before baby, I would have been 15 days old as a full-fledged gastroenterologist, my fellowship having ended. I keep thinking about the same time 4 years ago, when residency was ending, and comparing it to now. Back then, it felt like the world was ending, and now, I'm sort of just... floating along. Relieved, almost. I was also talking to someone this week, and I exclaimed at one point: Man, I miss being a resident. And the other person said, Wow, that is a really sad statement. But it's true, residency was fun. Fellowship, on the other hand, has sucked. So, this led me to think and compare and contrast some more, and try to figure out exactly what has made this so bad, hard work and personalities notwithstanding. There are just so many things. First of all, as a resident, I solidly felt backed up by the attendings. We had their trust and benefit of the doubt, no matter the issue, be it a crazy ER attending trying to admit everyone, an unreasona...

My husband is one of those people who naturally assumes control of everything in the situation around him. He gets it from his mother. It's a nurturing quality that stems from his desire to take care of everything, especially his loved ones, but that is inevitably embellished with his natural tendency towards compulsiveness. The compulsive side of this instinct of his sometimes drives me nuts. It also drives me nuts that his desire take care verges on the absurd: "When you go to the bank, don't forget your bank card." "I will pack the car for you, but I will put the things you need to remove immediately on the seats, and the rest in the trunk I will remove when I get home, so don't worry about it." Stuff like that. It leads me to answer with haughty comments, such as "You know, I survived before you, and I would survive without you!" However. My track record would lead one to believe otherwise. A few months ago, hubby traveled off to Sp...

Leaves fall, lights dim, mice die. Why try when I know No- vember brings failure? A swatch of sky and rain. How you throw dirt over a sinking feeling! The sun, a magic number, arbitrarily looms in the distance... The clock is ticking, wasting time, what harvest will I reap? How foolish! It's dark, where am I, how did I come to be here? Don't know. Will I stay?

Everyone should read this article in detail. http://www.nytimes.com/2011/06/12/opinion/12sibert.html Opinion Don’t Quit This Day Job By KAREN S. SIBERT Published: June 11, 2011 For female doctors, the decision to go part time isn’t just personal; it has consequences for patients and the public. Afterwards, should read http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/wont-hurt-bit/201106/the-mommy-wars-medical-edition. The bottom line is this: the top article's writer, a female anesthesiologist from California, asserts that the fact that female physicians are choosing to work part-time is hurting patients and the economy, and has a negative impact overall on a societal level. She plainly suggests that women need to choose between being a doctor or being a mother, and that both is not possible. The bottom article writes an intelligent response. I applaud Dr. Au, the latter writer, for keeping her wits about her enough to write an eloquent response, when the only thing I could say after I read Dr...

There is diaper smell everywhere. EVERYWHERE. Toys, little sock balls, yesterday's pajamas and boxes of wipes trip me up when I try to go to the bathroom at night or make my coffee in the morning. Tiny fingerprints and banana boogers on my computer screen. Cheerios crunching on the floor with each step. Gates and clips that are not only baby-proof but also Sasha-proof. Freshly folded laundry dumped out and strewn about. Hundreds of fingerpaint art pieces on the fridge, above the fireplace, in every drawer.

I blinked, and suddenly, the entire month of May disappeared, and I have not written a word for this blog. It seems my creative energies are directed elsewhere. To the same place most of my energies are directed these days - the baby. So, May is gone, and with it, several things have turned. For example, I just did my very last weekend call as a fellow. That's it. No mas. All the blood, and the sweat, and the tears... Also, today I got out one of my old 34D size bras. While hefty by most standards, after two years of unthinkable top-heaviness, I felt so small, almost athletic, basically, flat chested! I was ready to fly, lifted upwards toward the sun by my suddenly light breasts. Well - "suddenly" is, of course, far from accurate, as I have been dwindling my nursing for months, unable to give it up completely. It's because the baby uses me as a human pacifier, and being an attention junkie, and addicted to unconditional adoration, I've been loving it. Ex...

How I Met Your Mother is actually a great show. It's funny because technically, the guys on that show are older than Friends were when they started, and yet, when I watch Friends, I still see them as sophisticated grownups living in New York, and when I watch How I Met Your Mother, I totally relate and see them as peers... Frames of reference change, I suppose. The thing common to both (other than the whole young singles/couples living in NYC and hanging out at the same watering hole day after day thing) is that they have great quotables. My Gmail status has said "Miss Chnandler Bong" on it for a week, and I consistently repeat to myself: "You've been Bamboozled! You're gonna be a terrible mother!!" How I Met Your Mother had a great quotable concept last week: "The Graduation Goggles." That's like when you hate summer camp (or high school, an example used in the show), you wish for the entire 8 weeks that you could just go home, but tha...

Can't think of a goshdarn thing to write about... Except this, which I've been thinking about literally every single night because it's so funny. So, Munchkin, like, HATES getting dressed and undressed. I mean, you would think I was torturing him, the way he wails when I am putting on his little onesies, or whatnot, each morning. The same thing happens every night when I put on his footie pajamas. And the absolute pitiful show he puts on when I try to decorate his head with any kind of head-dress? Securing the velcro under his chin is just absolutely contraindicated! Let me tell you, it's not just some softie protests; the kid sobs with tears, turns red in the face and everything. Booohoohoohoo... And I ask myself: why do babies hate getting dressed? Then I remember. Very vaguely. But definitely present somewhere in the recesses of my memory. Someone dressing me. And the absolute horrible feeling of having a shirt upside down on your head with the buttons pressi...

So, ok, yes, I got a fancy shmancy job. Although I am quite looking forward to having an office with a door and a desk, I am also starting to despair. And not just because I have about 5 months of training left and I feel no readier to practice than a year ago. (just today, my cecal intubation rate was about 50%, and I had to ask my buddy for advice on managing a routine situation with a vaccine...) I'm in despair because I don't know if I'll be happy living Down There. I've always looked at this fellowship and this three-year relocation as temporary, with the endpoint being moving back to Boston, or the Metro West. In fact, I wanted to live in an N-town, where I grew up, or even a W-town if I could stand the waspiness. When I started to look for jobs, though, I realized that apparently, the Boston area practices have hired all they needed to hire about 2 years ago, and now, no one was looking. Well - that's not quite true. Some were looking for people who wou...

Europe vs. USA. It's not a real battle, not even really an argument. It's more like a comparison, or a tug of war, or like a friendly competition, in the spirit of New York vs Boston and St. Petersburg vs. Moscow. I feel like they patronize us like an older, wiser, more experienced sibling. In turn, we contend that we know better and do even better, like a teenage smartass, while at the same time, harboring some deep and painful insecurities. Of course, that insecurity might just be me. When I travel to Europe, I get jealous of the way the live: seemingly, so much more relaxed, not to mention the free healthcare, education, the 5 weeks of vacation and the paid maternity leave. Also, the sidewalk cafes, the delicious bread and coffee, the public transportation and the Puritan tradition-free ... everything. Conversely, when I meet Europeans here, I always feel a little bit apologetic about how things are here. I'm halfway to guilty regarding making my husband move from...

We went for sushi today. We were out for only a couple of hours, and yet, there was a myriad of things I couldn't believe that I can list. First of all, the place was in this strip mall. And the strip mall is apparently a hub of activity because there were people everywhere. And apparently, you had to have a reservation for dinner at this strip mall sushi place. Can you believe that? Me neither. Secondly, while waiting for a table, we were sitting down next to a large group, and part of that group was a young lady, about my age. Munchkin became completely enthralled with her. Absolutely fascinated. He just kept staring at her and half smiling in awe. Then, he waved. That was the first time he waved ever. He's never waved at me. Or at daddy. Or at his teachers. But yes at this girl. And he then proceeded to wave at her 4 more times. Can you believe he waves now? And can you believe he waved at some random girl? Third, the idee fixe du jour is where we are goin...

I've been walking past these posted fliers for weeks. Only yesterday did I stop and read one, and I just had to share. They hang on the walls and doors of the endoscopy department. Line 1: Colorectal Cancer awareness benefit This line makes sense because we are the GI and endoscopy department, which is where one would go to either detect, diagnose or treat colorectal cancer. Line 2: at Leo's Ristorante This also makes sense, because it's a local venue that is both big and nice enough to host an event such as this. Line 3: Come support colorectal cancer awareness! Good, remind people why they're reading the poster to begin with. Line 4: Drinks served at 6 Self explanatory, and convenient: late enough so that people can make it from work, and yet, early enough so that people can go to work the next day. Line 5 (and this is where it gets interesting): Followed by a talk on... "Sex and the History of Prostitution" ?? Why does this benefit colorectal cancer and wh...

I wish it still took so little to get so happy.

When I wrote my personal statement for my residency application, I just sat down and jotted down what I was thinking. It went along with what the statement was about. I wrote about how important decisions shouldn't be agonizing, but rather, a natural next step in the smooth flow of life. Or something along those lines. I mentioned the decision to go to medical school, my then recent marriage, and choosing a specialty. Does it follow, then, that these natural next steps aren't a cause for celebration, because they're so smooth and natural? When I got the letter that I got into medical school, I was by myself in the mail room at my university. I looked at the letter. Looked around for someone to tell. Then I folded the letter and stuffed it into my bag. My mother brought champagne home that night, but I didn't drink it. And I got annoyed when people congratulated me for it. (feeling kind of guilty about it, to be quite honest, because I think I was rude to this on...