(Warning, this is like the boringest update in the world. Seriously, you’d be better off if you go look at the articles about Jessica Simpson becoming a Baywatch babe. Really. Because that’s entertainment!)

Life is good. I don’t think I’ve written that in a while. Makes a nice change. 🙂

I’ve been really busy. As I said, the boring kind of busy, but it’s been nice. I finished my genetics rotation (did I even mention that I was doing a genetics rotation), which was really enjoyable. At one time, that was the career that I was thinking about, becoming a pediatric geneticist. And while it was fun, it was nice discovering that that wasn’t the career for me. Good thing–that would not have been a nice discovery to make right before I started my residency in a completely different field.

The past two weeks I’ve been working on my “PCP”, my last paper/research project that I have to do to graduate. I’ve changed my project three times, but this last one I’ve been really excited about, and there’s a chance that I’ll get published with it (the biggest motivator to get a student to do something–lure them with promise of seeing their name in an obscure journal). The best part is that I’m actually working with Chris on it–it was a project that one of his public health professors had suggested that he do and when I was complaining that all of my ideas were fizzling into nothing, he was good enough to let me join in. It’s been a blast working with him again–it’s like we’re back in second year, the good old times. We work really well together, always have, and things between us are finally, finally getting back to normal. We’re talking about everything and laughing and, well, having my friend back makes me very happy. We had tea today, at my favorite tea shop, and worked on our papers–and when we get bored, switched and worked on each others. 🙂 It was a great afternoon, until he got a ticket on his car, but otherwise, I couldn’t have asked for a better way to spend a snowy afternoon.

It’s still hard to grasp that I’m graduating in six weeks. Six weeks. It really hasn’t hit me, mostly because I’ve been in this “go go go” mode and just seem to be going from one short-term goal to the next. This week, it’s finishing this questionnaire, writing a proposal so that it’ll be approved for administration. Next week is starting of classes again (ugh. All day long too), learning wilderness survival (hmm, maybe that was the class that I needed to take before my safaris!) and personal doctor’s appointments. The next week is more certification for residency.

And then comes the weeks that I’ve been dreading. I think I’m going to have to have surgery before the end of this month. I’ve been pushing it off, but my shoulder has been giving me problems and I don’t think it will last through all five years of residency. I hate this, the fact that I have spent virutally every bit of vacation since starting college having surgery, but I’d rather not face the alternative. One day, one day, the surgeries will be over and I can quit collecting scars like postal stamps. That would be nice.

Ellie and I have started on our Letter Game! I’m so excited. I got the task of writing the first letter, and therefore creating the characters and the world that our game would take place in. Of course, I had to pick a time that I know next to nothing about–the Celtic world, around 500-600 CE. So if anybody out there happens to be an expert, let me know. 🙂 Google can only tell me so much.

It snowed here. About a foot up in the foothills, 5-6 inches in the valley. I knew it was going to happen. My beautiful magnolia blossoms had just opened and looked so pretty and pink–which was a sure sign that a freeze was coming. It’s happened every year, every year. The poor things just don’t do well in this climate. I love spring storms though, they’re probably my favorites. The snow is wet, with huge flakes and love the contrasts of colors and white. It’s not quite as cold and one can hold on to the promise of warmth much easier than in the dead of February.

I think I’ve pretty much decided to hold off buying a house until after I move and get settled in Milwaukee a little. I don’t know the area very well (i.e. at all), and I want to not feel rushed in my decision on the house–it’s a huge commitment and I want to be happy with my place. Plus, with surgery, I won’t be able to drive for several weeks and that makes house-hunting difficult. So, I’m looking for an apartment instead, one with a month-to-month lease, and after a few months, I’ll make the decision then.

I’m sitting here watching them award Steve Martin win the 2005 Mark Twain prize. It’s actually pretty humerous. I can’t say that I’ve really considered myself a huge Steve Martin fan, but I gotta hand it to the guy–thirty years in the business and he’s still going strong.

I’ve rambled long enough and probably should get to bed. 🙂 Night all.

There will be a real post too soon, I promise (no, I’m not avoiding LJ like last week, I just got super busy. And unfortunately, it’s the boring kind of super busy that wouldn’t be the slightest bit interesting to read about). But until then:

Snagged from eponine119:

Rec-Go-Round: Rec me ONE story you’ve written that you’re proud of, any fandom, any genre, here on my LJ.

Then go forth and ask the same in yours.

I’ve been wanting to do more writing recently, more short stories and drabbles. It’s been so long since I took a pen to paper. When I was in Kenya, I was so determined to finish Like Never Before that I wrote for two afternoons, transferring crumpled paper of many edits to computer, writing two new scenes. It was great, I was on a roll, things were progressing, and I was going to come home and surprise everybody–not that I think anybody has missed my story, it would have mostly been for my satisfaction. I saved it on my memory stick and when I turned on my computer the next morning, somehow the stick had gotten corrupted and I lost everything. My sister has the same brand and it died two weeks later, so we think it’s some error with the stick itself, but I lost all motivation again. I hope it comes back.

I’ve missed the creative outlet that writing provides, the satisfaction that came from getting just the right word and turn of phrase. I keep thinking about trying to tackle some original short stories or essays (you may have noticed some of the attempts in my journal entries, to make them sound a little more like prose rather than ramblings. I have no idea how well I’m succeeding–this entry would not be an example, btw). Especially since I heard that Brooke was writing a children’s story, which knowing her will be completely wonderful and witty and alive, since that’s how she writes naturally, and Michelle’s been corresponding with a friend, a la “Sorcery and Cecelia”. But I don’t have the time or the ideas at this point. Okay, I shouldn’t use time as an excuse, since Atul Gawande wrote Complications as a surgery resident, snatching 15-30 minutes away from precious sleep, and I have a ton more free time than that right now. (BTW, that’s the best book on the practice and culture of medicine I’ve ever read. I highly recommend it, even to those who have no medical knowledge at all. It’s a fantastic, enthralling read).

No, for me, the real hiccup is the creative side. I can’t seem to come up with a single original idea. Every time I attempt to invent characters or plots, they feel like pale ripoffs of every single author I’ve ever read. That is the reason that I love fanfiction so much–the characters are there with preformed motives, personalities, behaviors, etc and the trick is to write your own story within those boundaries. It’s difficult, yes, to stay in character, but I like the challenge combined with the ease. However, I really love the opportunity presented with the minor characters–people that we might have names and looks for, but everything else is a blank slate. Why I can invent personalities and mannerisms in this case and can’t with OF is beyond me.

Anyway. As I said. I’ve been wanting to write. Gilmore Girls has passed beyond inspiration. Even with the lure of Jess coming back for one more eppy hasn’t been enough to light the fire (maybe that will change come April). And I’m really wanting to try something new.

So. The sum up is that I found a prompt community called 7spells for Harry Potter fiction. It’s only seven stories which is much more manageable than the fanfic100 communities and I like the prompts, and even more amazing, there was a character pairing not taken that I thought I could actually maybe write something about.

Behind the cut is my master list for writing Harry Potter/Luna Lovegood. I’m rather excited, actually. I had so hoped that Luna would become a bigger character after she proved herself in the 5th book and was disappointed in the sixth book. I loved her scenes, she was hilarious, but it was lacking in substance–she was just the humorous situation generator. Where was the whole “Hermione and Luna balance Harry” plotline? Or the mystical “life after death” connection.

Erm. I’ll stop now. I’ll be posting the stories to my journal, since communities have a tendency to disappear and I don’t want to lose anything, but you have no obligation to read anything. Promise. 🙂

Harry/Luna challenge stories

The problem with taking some time away from your blog (without actually saying that you are taking some time away) is that you can’t just jump in and fill in with the conclusions of what’s been going on. For example, I had been going to start this entry saying that “I’m doing better now” and realized that since I’ve only had one vagueish entry in the last two weeks, you have no idea that I was doing “poorly.”

I hadn’t meant to take this break. I went through a little bit of a writer’s block and then when I wanted to write, I was way too emotional to write anything halfway resembling coherency.

It’s been a hard week. I’ve been figuring out all of these financial things (and I HATE dealing with money. Honestly, I wish we all would just convert to a system where we bartered with crayons), such as reconsolidating my loans (again), finding out my credit report, finding out how much of a house I could afford. I had a presentation on Wednesday that of course took much more time than I thought it would (but it went well, so yay!) and had all of the responsibilities of the end-of-the-rotation stuff to complete. I had to sign my initial contract for MCW, and I’m also supposed to send them my schedule by the beginning of next week. 8 months of hospitals wards. Three weeks of vacation and only two can be taken together. Do I need to take off an entire week for Sam’s wedding or can I arrange the few days off? Do I want to spread them equally over the year, so that every three months or so, I’ll have a week to look forward too–or have two weeks together where I could actually do something? Et cetera. Et cetera. And so forth.

And then Chris and I started arguing. No, argue is too strong of a word–I can’t come up with any kind of definition for what it was. He said some things, a little more biting and sarcastic and mean, which I didn’t pick up on at first, because they were more mild than some of what he’s said in the past few times I’ve been with him. And he called and apologized after I left. Which should have made things better, but they didn’t, because it just made me realize everything that was wrong with us. I mean, I forgave him completely, but before all of this, he never said anything mean to me. If he teased me, it was good natured and I knew it–there was never that ribbon of malice that seems to tinge the conversations now. Not to mention this whole not speaking about Melissa thing–I thought I was being the good friend by giving him space to talk to me about it when he was ready. Turns out, he is talking to another one of our friends–and hanging out with her when he’s telling me that he has no time to do anything. Me–very jealous. Very hurt.

So, that’s what sent me into my week long depression. But I’m better now. I finished most everything on my “MUST. DO. NOW.” list, which relieved the stress, managed not to think about things that I could fix, and got some sleep. And Chris and I worked out this afternoon (20 pound stationary front rows, baby! I’m improving!) and while we didn’t talk about that fight–things were better between us, back to normal. He actually talked about Melissa and his feelings about what’s going on. I was so relieved that when he hugged me goodbye, I almost started crying. Yep, I’m an emotional wuss. I think that has been thoroughly established here by now.

The jealousy thing is getting a little better too. I’m still hurt that while I thought she was a friend of both of us, I’m getting left out of things, but I’m not having the stabbing thoughts that I’m getting replaced and will be Last Year’s Model long before the move to Wisconsin happens. And that’s a much better feeling.

So anway, I’m winding down on medical school. I have six weeks left–2 weeks of research/paper writing, two weeks of class (I’ll be also taking a Wilderness Medicine class then and will be able to tell you how to treat that snake bite!), and then 2 more weeks of the research/paper. That’s it. The research thing is kinda worrying me — I’ve known about it for months and have been trying to brainstorm what I could do without much luck, and I want to get everything done in two weeks, so that I can have surgery during the last two. That would be the perfect timing, so I could be fully recovered by the time residency starts. I see my doc on the 10th of April–I should know better then how I can fit everything together.

I’m taking a “Basic Life Support” class tomorrow (I need “Advanced Life” for residency and you have to have the basic first). It’s rather amusing that I’ve gone through all of medical school and never been formally trained on CPR or anything–I mean, I know it, but I’ve never had to pass it off and become certified, until now. Melissa’s taking the class as well–it’s the first time that I will have seen her since the New Year’s. I have no idea what to say to her. Not a one.

Always nice to discover another personal weakness.

What makes it worse is that it really is over NOTHING. Nothing. But I feel supplanted, which makes me panic that that I’ll be replaced before you can say Milwaukee and that makes everything worse. Compounding the feelings of inadequacy, is the knowledge that I’m boring the socks off of every person in my vicinity. “We keep having the same conversation over and over.” Thanks, just what I needed to hear.

I’m woeful and angsty and really just using this to vent vaguely. But that’s the purpose of a journal, ain’t it?

The late night gab-fest had turned from silly to serious as we fought sleep. Perhaps it was I who began fretting about the inevitable change as we curled up on the couch. She, one of my dearest friends, was leaving very soon and I wouldn’t see her for more than a year and a half. Time had crept in and our idyllic college days, where we had all romped and discovered a second childhood, were coming to an end.

“I hate growing up and becoming an adult.”

“We may be older, but we are not grown-ups yet. That requires bigger steps.”

“Such as?”

“Marriage.”

“Laura and James are married and they’re not adults yet–they’re just more like permanent roommates.”

“Okay. Maybe not marriage. But kids do.”

“Oh, yeah. Kids make you an adult.”

Together, we made our list. Kids, definitely. Buying a house. Buying a car that cost more than $500. Have a career. And, as we stared down at the sofa that we had “rescued” from the side of the road, we added one last thing to the list: purchasing a new, real couch. That would be the things that changed us from irrepressible youth to Responsible Adults.

The years have slipped by from that conversation, seven years by my calculation. Liz went away, came back, and lived with me for another two years. My friends all married, had kids, purchased houses, cars, and yes, new sofas, and I was left behind, still lurking on that cusp of being a grown-up. I remained single, in a small apartment with roommates, and my couch, with its hard wooden sides, was replaced with one with softer, smaller arms but a torn seat that had to be supported with books. As that one gave way, it too was replaced with a worn, but matching sofa and love seat (an improvement!), graciously donated by Chris. Still not quite classified as the real grownup purchase.

That is all about to change. I contacted a realtor today to discuss purchasing a house in Milwaukee. In a few weeks, if all goes well, I’ll be a home owner. A few weeks after that, I’ll have a degree and a new title. I’ll have a real job, a career where I’ll be responsible for the welfare of all the patients under my charge.

It’s official. I am now an Adult. A Grown-up. At 27 years, it’s probably about time.

But I don’t think I’m getting rid of my secondhand sofas yet. I’m not ready to be that old.

During my two weeks on Neurosurgery last year, I walked into the operating room and discovered that the trauma patient that everybody had been talking about in rounds was somebody that I knew extremely well, from my hometown of 250 people. She was one of my mom’s good friends and her granddaughter is one of the few people that I count as a friend from high school. She had been in an accident and had broken her back. Needless to say, that surgery is one of my most memorable–and not in a good way.

Because I was on service, I had the opportunity to visit with her on a daily basis, until she was moved to the rehab ward. Most of the time, I didn’t do much more than hold her hand while she slept and even that was hard. I wanted to do so much more and was powerless. I couldn’t offer words of encouragement–we as her care team had no idea if she would get any movement back, no idea how much surgery she’d require, no idea when the pain would start to dissapate–and even though I wanted to say everything was going to be okay, I couldn’t. She’s had a hard recovery. She can walk now with the assistance of a walker, but it is very tiring and the numbness has never left her legs. She fights with depression on a daily basis now, wondering why she survived. It’s hard watching her go through this trial–this once happy, vibrant lady.

All this has been in my head this week as my friend lies in the hospital for a very similar reason. I haven’t been up to see him yet, partially to give him time to heal, partially to give myself time. Becuase, and I hope this doesn’t sound selfish, although I don’t have any idea how hard it is for the person who ahs been through a traumatic event, it’s difficult being the relative/friend and finding the right words of support. As I’ve mentioned before, I have gotten to the point that I can relate to patients and share in their grief–but when it affects someone I know, I become useless again.

He’s doing a little better in terms of his spirits. We held a meeting on Tuesday to try to come up with ways to help with his medical costs, personal needs, and to help find ways for him to finish school. I’m now on a committee trying to come up with fundraising ideas–something that, as always, has turned out to be more difficult than intended. We had thought that we would pull all of our frequent flyer miles together to get his family here–but Delta airlines is a business and is charging $50 to transfer the miles–plus 50 cents for every mile, and they won’t waive it. We’ve gotten the local media available.

Anyway, I really do appreciate the words of support that you all have offered. I thought some of you might be interested in reading some of the articles that have appeared in the local newspaper.
http://www.sltrib.com/utah/ci_3583898
http://deseretnews.com/dn/view/0,1249,635190427,00.html
http://umed.med.utah.edu/ms4/gael/Gael%20letter.doc

And I know none of you know him at all, but if you wanted to donate something to his cause, email me and we can talk. 🙂 No pressure really.

I’ll do another post later about things going on in my life (and there are a few things), but I’m pretty bad at updating on things I’ve written about in the past and thought this might be of interest.

There are some people who just brighten your life the instant they walk into the room.

Gael, one of my classmates, is one of them. He always used to hug me when he saw me, and I, who thrive on hugs, often sought him out when I was having a bad day. He irritated me several times, that’s true–I didn’t like his condensending attitude towards women (you could forgive him some of it since he was very French) and working with him on rounds could be challenging, but he was my friend. Depending on when you asked him, he was going to be an Orthopedic Surgeon, an Ophthalmologist and most recently, a Neurologist like me. He had big amibitions and the gutsy charm to get what he wanted.

I just found out that he was in a snowboarding competition yesterday. There was an accident and he transected his spinal cord. He is paralysed from the waist down and will most likely never walk again. The neurologist-to-be is now in the neuro critical care unit, will undergo surgery tomorrow and will struggle to regain even a semblance of what his life had been like.

He’s not wanting visitors for the next few days, so the challenge of figuring out words and action of comfort can be mused over and thought out, but this has certainly put a stop to my “woe is me” little pity parties I’ve thrown myself these past couple of weeks. There’s nothing like a bit of perspective–I just wish that it hadn’t come at the expense of my friend.

I went out to dinner tonight with Chris. At a fancy restaurant. {everybody oohs}. In fact, it was so fancy that I:

A. Did my hair in curls. It looked slightly freakish, but with mousse and holding gel, I got it tamed to something resembling waves.

B. Put on makeup. An accomplishment.

C. Wore contacts. The late night stayups watching M*A*S*H and X-Files have not been nice to my eyes.

D. Pressed my dress pants. Okay, they were extremely wrinkly and I would have been mortified to step out of the house in them, but wow!

All in all, a rather amazing and different experience for me. It was fun, getting the opportunity to dress up. {everyone ahhhs at Pretty!Julia} Chris, gentleman that he was, helped me into my coat and held the door for me. He was not so gentlemanly that he offered to pay the whole bill, however. 😛

We had a great time, talking again about traveling and international experience and long term career goals and dating. I mentioned my current love interest, where he raised the valid point of “are you sure it’s dating that he’s not interested in, or not dating you?” which made me frown a bit and took me back. He didn’t mean it as a insult, I think, but I’m not sure that I really want to think about that.

I think he’s backing out on our Mexico trip. Well, not so much the trip as he would still be doing it, but me doing it with him. “I think it might become a family trip” was the proffered excuse. I’m hurt about it, I really am. I mean, geez, I knew it wasn’t going to be just me and him – we’d kill each other in two days and hello, do you think I want to have the fulltime job of distracting him from remembering that if things hadn’t gone badly, he would be getting MARRIED at that spot, on that day? I knew that it was his parents and brother and SIL going down and that it would be me hanging out with them and that was going to be cool–I like all of them from the few times that I’ve met them. It was going to be our last trip, our last hoorah. He leaves for Asia the day after my graduation, and I’ll be gone before he gets back. We’ve never travelled together, ever and I saw it as one of those “never again” opportunities that he’s always telling me to seize.

I just… I’ve been struggling with a lot of self-esteem issues recently, exacerbated by the fact that I’m bored and actually have time to think about these things, but I’m really not liking myself very much right now. And this just feels like another slap of rejection, a poorly veiled excuse where he really means “yeah, Julia, I just don’t want you there”. I’m feeling very vulnerable and knowing that I’m leaving–I get panicky that this is a great excuse for him to just slip out of my life. I was really looking forward to this trip. I thought he was too.

You would think that after all of this time, I would be getting used to rejection. I just hadn’t expected it from him.

I probably should actually use this thing to update on my life.

The sad thing is that nothing is going on right now. I came home from Kenya in the middle of the rotation blocks, so have had nothing to do. It’s been nice having a break, really and I find ways to use my time, but it doesn’t lend to a lot to talk about. I had intended on taking a literature class that sounds fascinating: “The Doctor-Patient Relationship Through Literature” and had actually signed up for it, but it started before I came home and with the President’s Holiday, they decided that I couldn’t get credit for only going to 4 days of class. Worse is the fact that I can’t drop it, since the rotation already started, so I’m actually getting a failing grade. For something that I wanted to do. It doesn’t matter–I’m matched and I’ll still be graduating just fine, but it’s a little on the frustrating side.

So, I’m starting a new rotation today… or at least I’m supposed to. Registered the end of last week, didn’t hear about any details (where and what time to meet, etc), which made me a little worried, but I am a slacker right now and didn’t follow up with it until this morning. Found one phone number, it was wrong. I was interviewing potential medical students this morning, so after that finished, I finally tracked down the right number–only to discover that they had been expecting me in clinic at 8 this morning. It’s always nice giving such a good impression on the first day.

The good news is that I got ahold of the attending with whom I will be working and clinic is over for the morning and she’s out of town tomorrow, so I’m not starting until Wednesday. Sweet! And it sounds like that there are many people working in the clinics which will spread the workload and make things a little easier. I’ve definitely hit the “end of the year” slump in motivation and just want to do enough to get me graduated and that’s it.

I have been spending the week developing my culinary skills. My friend got a cook book (Rachel Ray’s 365: No Repeats – a New York Times bestseller, I’ll have you know) for Christmas and insisted I buy one as well, so we could try different recipes and share our successes. So, I’ve made Rosemary Orange Pork Chops with Lemoned Asparagus, Basil and Spinach Chicken Burgers, and last time Pesto Mustard Chicken, which was very yummy. They’re supposed to take only a half hour to make–but I’m a slow chopper and I forget the recipe and so am constantly consulting it, so it ends up taking more like an hour or more. It’s been okay; I’ve had nothing better to do. Today, I think I’m try the Bacon and Egg Stuffed bread. I really love cooking with fresh herbs, though; believe me, I could gush for hours about the wonderfulness that is fresh cilantro. That’s one thing that I’ve decided about my new place–while I don’t want a garden, it must have place where I can grow a few herb plants (I think I could probably manage to remember to water them). I get absolutely giddy at just the thought of having my own rosemary to pick!

I really should clean my room. I tackled the living room and kitchen when I came home, but the room is a disaster and I haven’t wanted to touch it. Last night, however, I knocked over a box of potpourri and this morning, printing off applicant information set up a Goldberg pandemonium that only worsened the general state of things.

I decided to go through and collect all of the various icons that I’ve been practicing on over the last several months. (Why I’m doing this and not sleeping I don’t know–especially since I start my new rotation tomorrow and have no idea where I’m supposed to go).

I had started out making Olympic icons this year, and realized shortly that the icons that I really wanted to make were of skaters of the past. Unfortunately, all of the pictures that I could find of such skaters were of very poor quality, so these few were a bloody pain to make. And, yes, I realize that the Olympics are over, but I’m a nostalgic kind of person. If there is an interest, I have a few more pictures of the skaters that I could try to manipulate into something.

Quite a few are variations of each other–different coloring that is much more subtle once they are uploaded, different wording. Most of these are the product of late night emperimentation. You’ve been warned.

If you like any, could you let me know? Just an idea of what’s working, what should be avoided at all costs would be nice. 😀

Olympics (18 – including variations. 3 Sasha Cohen (inspired by behrbemine devotion), 3 Sergei Grinkov/Ekaterina Gordeeva, 3 Jamie Sale/David Pelletier, 6 Torvill/Dean, 1 Torino Olympic logo, 2 SLC Olympics (the best of all Olympics!!))
Olympics

I missed out on my chance to try for the iTunes billionth giveaway. I thought they still have 25,000 songs to go–I refreshed the countdown page, and it was over. 🙁

To rub salt in the wounds, iTunes then sent me my bill of the $37 that I had spent to just get one of the sub-prizes with no luck. I suppose I must console myself with the great music. I did end up sticking to mostly tried and true–I found some Loreena McKennitt songs (and since I felt guilty because all of the music that I have of hers is from CDs borrowed from the library, I had to get the few that I don’t have), Rob Thomas, and Vienna Teng.

It’s still disappointing. I was having such nice dreams of the 20″ iMac, surrounded by black and white iPods…

There have been funny moments associated with all of this that I must share. But first a bit of a background.

Flashback to the first year of med school. The reason Chris and I became friends was because he was in a friendship with a classmate named Candice, who developed a crush on him and told him so, just about the time when he started dating Melissa. Obviously, he didn’t reciprocate the feelings (and told her that frankly), and she had problems dealing with it. One of the problems was that they were study partners, and after that Candice felt uncomfortable studying with just him. So, she befriended me, and clueless little me was dragged into the entire mess. I had NO idea what I was getting into, I was just gleeful that I finally had friends (that’s not to say I didn’t have buddies in med school and study partners, I just wasn’t particularly close to anybody until then).

Chris made me laugh, I amused him as well, and before long, we were friends. That friendship deepened over the summer over emails, (he was in Ghana and I was recuperating from surgery) while the friendship between him and Candice completely withered. Candice and I were good while he was away–she came over and read Harry Potter (#5) aloud to me because my eyes couldn’t focus properly after the surgery (due to the anesthesia), but when he came back…well, it got ugly fast. The next semester consisted of me trying to be the glue between the two of them, Candice’s jealousy over the time I spent with Chris, etc. etc. Ironically, she’s the one that introduced me to LJ (Vindictive!Me wants to give out her LJ so you can read the entire saga over there. But I won’t. Because I’m good that way–the higher road and all of that) and a comment that I made on a post was what completely destroyed whatever remained of our friendship, while Chris defended me gallantly and has been my best friend since.

Since then, I could count on my hands the number of words that we’ve exchanged–and there’s been even less said between her and Chris. Candice doesn’t acknowledge our presence at all. The first few months really hurt, but I haven’t really minded or even thought about it much since then. I’m comfortable with knowing that I tried everything within my power to make that friendship work, and she was a very negative influence in my life and if I had stuck by her, I would have gotten the worse end of the deal.

So. To the present. Through a very rapid gossip chain, she found out that the wedding was off. And she called him. To tell him that she was very sorry and that if he ever needed to talk, she would love to go out for coffee and just talk.

ROFL! Wow, she didn’t take much time to try to slip in for some rebound lovin’, did she! I started giggling hysterically during the story and have been unable to resist ribbing Chris about how unforgettable he is.

I should give her the benefit of the doubt, that she was just trying to be friendly and supportive with no ulterior motives, but after three years of not talking, did she honestly think that he would just open up to her?? And seriously, three years on a crush where the guy told you to your face that he wasn’t interested, is even masochistic by my standards! Sheesh, give it up!

Part of me, the not-so-forgiving side that I don’t usually show people, has been seething at her mere suggestion that he didn’t have anybody to confide in. Um, hello? What do you think I’ve been? *stabs* Die, fiend! Chris has assured me that if he does need to talk, he’ll be calling me and not Candice. Am much relieved. Very glad that I came back in time to save him from resorting to desperation. *grin*

I’m trying to avoid going to bed for just a while longer, so that I might sleep all night long, so hence another post. I think having a computer connection and being back to my lovely Flower iMac has made me a posting fiend. 🙂 Four whole posts in one day! I’m insane!

I’ve been rather introspective due to everything that has been happening. As first year medical students, we took a class called “Physical Diagnosis” (it’s the class that I helped teach this past December), where you learn to do a physical exam, but more importantly, you learn how to conduct an interview and how to talk to patients (which really uses different communication skills than just carrying on between two friends or acquaintances). One of the first lessons was how important physical touch and sympathy were to establishing the rapport and caring between the patient and doctor–that illness affects us all and to be able to show concern is the best way to develop the relationship. At the end of the week, we had to perform an interview with standardized patient. I still remember the patient I had — an older woman, coming in to get some sleeping pills, where I discovered that her husband had died only a few weeks previously. I remember sitting there, trying to think of something to say, wondering how you could comfort somebody with such an acute loss, and feeling like an absolute failure.

I’m not sure that it has gotten easier since then. I’ve gotten better at placing my hand on a knee, leaning forward, holding patients’ hands after they found out that they might have cancer or some other horrible diagnosis, but the right words to say still seem to stick in my mouth. “I’m sorry” seems trite (and half the time followed up with “it’s not your fault”, which aggravates me to the point of grinding teeth.) At least the sympathy, which felt so fake during the first year (oh yeah, they were ACTORS. It was fake), is real and sincere now, and I care very deeply about my patients and all of their problems, but it doesn’t change that uncomfortable feeling of intruding.

I think I’m worse with my friends. That’s not to say that I’m a fairweather friend who disappears with the first sign of trouble, but that I feel like an absolute idiot in trying to comfort. It’s strange too; everybody seems to know how to comfort me, but that might be because I’m pretty simple that way–hug me tight, let me cry and rant, and I’m good to go. Honestly, I think this is the one area where having a male friend is more difficult, because I communicate my sympathies and pain at their heartache through touch, and Chris is not a touchy kind of guy.

I’ve been trying to be the best friend I can be through all of this, but it’s been hard. I distracted him with two hours of looking at pictures (“Lions. And more lions. And look, another picture of lions.”) and discussion of his trip to Thailand and our trip to Mexico (!!! – I was worried when I suggested tagging along, but he seems as excited by the idea as I am. And it will be our last time together for who knows how long.), but the conversation still seemed to wind back to the unmentionable, and I felt so lost as to what to say. I feel so much for him, but I can never find the words for it.

So a question… what are some of the best methods/words that you’ve found to comfort a friend? And in times of personal loss, what are some things that others have done/said that have made things if not better, then tolerable? I know that some of you have gone through incredibly hard times, and I’d really love some advice on how to be a better sympathizer and friend.

I love winter. I do. I get all excited over the possibility of walking in a snowstorm (much better than driving in one), or sitting wrapped in my fuzzy robe with a cup of cocoa in my hands. I even like the cold, if my feet are warm, which is a good thing, considering how the weather in Wisconsin is going to be brutal (you had to show those pictures, mrschimpf, didn’t you?). And honestly, I don’t really like summer — I hate being hot and I feel like I waste most of my energy moping around, whining about the heat.

That being said – the cold and snow here is not agreeing with my summer adjusted self. The skin of the sole of my feet have split (right across the blisters I developed from walking around Amsterdam, I might add) and I’m having a very difficult time walking. I can’t seem to get my feet warm, regardless of the number of socks I’ve put on and the toasty rice bag from the microwave seems to lose its heat the moment I take it from the microwave.

*sniff* I miss Africa…

And this is the first time that I’ve missed watching the Olympics. I haven’t even turned them on, since I missed most of the 16 days. I still have tapes at my parents home of the 1994 Olympics and after experiencing the Olympics here just four years ago, it’s a bit of a loss not being glued to the screen, admiring the athletes of their skill and grace that I completely lack.

I rarely do memes, but when you get one that is just so accurate… well, I couldn’t resist.

(And yes, I’m posting a ton today. I’ve been away from fast internet for a month! Deal. 😉 )

I’m not doing very well with the timing of the purchasing of music, if the on-line counter is anything to go by. I’m either under or over by at least 2000 songs. And since I’ve purchased more than $30 of music, I think this could turn pretty dangerous. There’s a reason that I don’t gamble!

After years of sleep deprivation and learning to fall asleep whenever I can (thank you med school!), I scoffed at the idea that I would be affected by jet-lag. My transition to Kenya time (which is in the same time zone as Moscow, Russia. How amazing is that??) was so smooth–I took my Ambien and slept like a log. I had a few days of some mild sleepiness for a few hours, but it passed very quickly.

I crashed mentally, absolutely exhausted, at around 5 pm yesterday (around 3 am in Kenya) and it was all I could do to keep myself awake until 10 (of course, I then got involved in checking my email so I didn’t actually go to bed until 11–addicted? moi?)… and woke up promptly at 5. The funny thing, is that the times really aren’t corresponding to my sleep cycle in Africa, so I’m not sure what’s happening.

I’ve been spending the morning surfing iTunes, because I’m bound and determined to be at least one of the 100,000 download winners (http://www.apple.com/itunes/1billion/) and since I only found out about it this morning, I have only a few chances left. I’m now the proud owner of the “Rob Thomas – iTunes Originals Album” and have been swooning listening to Rob talk about making sweet music all morning. I own 114 songs sung by Rob in one band or another. That tops Eva Cassidy (84), Loreena McKennitt (63), Fisher (61), and Carbon Leaf (51). Rob is not the most populous artist on my playlist, however. At 162 songs, Alan Parsons takes that award. 🙂

I have been out of the music world for quite some time, and I’m running out of ideas of songs to purchase (not to mention money). Suggestions of songs that I must, must have? New or old, it doesn’t matter. I just want a chance at a black nano!

Today, I was close to consumed by a Lion. Most improper for a Lady to end her Life.

Luckily, some Very Brave and Couragous locals helped assist in fending off the Deadly Beast. My Shoes, alas, have seen Better Days and I fear will never recover.*

🙂

I leave the continent of Africa in approximately 3 hours. It is truly depressing to see my time here come to a close. I feel like I’ve been here a lifetime and yet, there’s still so much that I want to see. Especially here in South Africa. Six days down here in South Africa was much too short and I’ve vowed, someday, to return.

To my dear friends, shirerain, melancthe and claidheamhmor, thank you so much for the hospitality, warmth and welcome that you have given me. I have never enjoyed days more than I have the few that I’ve been here. It has been such a wonderful time and I really, sincerely hope that one day, you can travel to the US and I can show you as great of a time.

{{{HUGS}}}

*details and pictures will be forthcoming when I return to American soil.*