Cadaver Ball 2004 at Quillen is officially history and was a great success. I must admit, I didn't know med. students could lighten up so much and have fun. Candace, Loan, and I met up with some of the boys at Cheddar's for some food before the festivities began. Service was slow and we almost didn't make it in time to see the skits the M2s performed. Following Seth and Heather, I think I only broke 5 traffic rules trying to get there, but we made it right on time.
It was great to see everyone all dressed and dolled up, away from the usual scrubs/T-shirt/jeans look. The skits were absolutely hilarious. I'd recount some of the more humorous moments like the impression of Dr.Linville's idea of physical exam, a typical Dr.Rary lecture, etc., but I'm afraid the humor would be lost on those non-Quillen students. Let's just say the M2's gave us a hard act to follow.
The night was spent on the dance floor (not with "Frank" as you might think by the title but with some other worthy boys ;o)), trying to get my shelter shy classmate to strut her stuff, and just generally socializing and having a good time not talking about HBGB and what's in the lower region of the body. All in all, it was a foot-stomping, belly-shaking (from laughter), jolly good time (hmm, kinda sounds like a hoe-down).
Tomorrow, it's back to the T-shirt and scrubs and studying Anatomy. At least a girl can have her fun being "Cinderella" every once in awhile. Only 3 months til "Back to Books".
Pictures to come soon.
PS: To all of you who seemed to have dropped off the face of the earth, leave me a comment to let me know how you're doing and to let me know I haven't totally lost contact with everyone who doesn't have an "MD" after their name. Nite!!!
10.30.2004
10.26.2004
Words of Wisdom
Whew! Another week has gone by. They sure know how to keep us busy here. My morning started at 7am with breakfast with the Dean (a group meeting, I'm not that special) and is just now ending at 10pm though it may be later seeing as I still need to study some more. I can't believe it's already October and 1/16 of my time in med. school has already passed. I've learned alot over the past few months including a wide vocabulary of useful and sometimes amusing words. I'll share with you 10 of my favorite new additions (you can go look them up) either amusing for the complexity used to describe something simple or the amusing sound as it rolls off the tongue. In no particular order:
Right decubitus
Micrognathia
Gubernaculum
Salpingo pharyngeus
Raschischisis
Ataxia Telangiectasia
Nuchal
Anastomosis
Sternocleidomastoid
Sphygmomanometer
Consider yourself a more informed and educated individual. Long day tomorrow so I'd better get some shut-eye. I'll leave you with this encouraging verse that we read last night at medical school girls' Bible study last night:
Isaiah 48:17
T-3 days 'til Cadaver Ball!
Right decubitus
Micrognathia
Gubernaculum
Salpingo pharyngeus
Raschischisis
Ataxia Telangiectasia
Nuchal
Anastomosis
Sternocleidomastoid
Sphygmomanometer
Consider yourself a more informed and educated individual. Long day tomorrow so I'd better get some shut-eye. I'll leave you with this encouraging verse that we read last night at medical school girls' Bible study last night:
Isaiah 48:17
T-3 days 'til Cadaver Ball!
10.20.2004
Homeless
There's nothing like the view of a sunset in Northeast Tennessee, the scarlet colored leaves accentuated by the rose and azure hues of the sky, to complement a loss in intermural football. Hey, it wasn't totally our fault, they only let us play our 7 players against the other team's 8 (I don't think I ever will understand the rules of co-ed football).
Oh well, at least the hour of exercise might assist me in getting into shape for next week's Cadaver Ball. Before you think I've lost my mind or think "Frank" and I are going somewhere on a date, let me explain. It's a tradition here at Quillen for the M2s to throw the M1s a formal every fall, a faculty roast of sorts where the M2s make fun of us and the professors, play music and just have a jolly good time taking the night off from studying. I told "Frank" I wasn't taking him so he's a little bent out of shape at the moment after hearing this. I know, we med. school nerds have an odd sense of humor.
Fall Break was a much needed respite from the stresses of school. It was nice just to have a weekend to do nothing and sit around the house and be lazy. Things had changed somewhat in my hometown, Smyrna. The old farmhouse (my grandmother's) that stood next to our house and the woods had been torn down and in its place stood an empty field ready to house the next building of school-aged punks...err...elementary school children and a wonderful powerline complements of TVA. Though I enjoyed my time there with my parents, it didn't feel like home because of the changes and the fact that most of my friends have moved away. So then I went to Knoxville, my second home so to speak, but it, too, was not as I had remembered it. My brief time in med. school had erased my carefree undergrad attitude and had given me a new appreciation of how much free time I used to have as an undergrad. Though hanging out with old friends was great and enjoyable, it didn't feel like home either. Last night, I traveled back to Johnson City, the least of the three towns that feel like home. I suppose this place never will have the "homey" atmosphere that Smyrna and Knoxville have; I don't expect deep roots to form here due to my lack of time to put forth the effort to do so. Then I got an email from one of my friends in Central America. Some might consider Central America my summer home, and indeed it seems like it is becoming that way. Yet, because of the cultural differences and ties I have here in the States I suppose it too will never become "home". With these thoughts in mind, I have come to the conclusion that I am "homeless" yet I'm content with this thought. My real home hopefully lies somewhere where all my friends from all these places will be together. I suppose that's why God has given us eternity, to have time to become reacquainted with everyone who has touched our lives and to meet those wonderful souls whom we never had the chance to meet here on earth. To use the old saying, my home is where my heart is, ie spread across states and countries in the form of many dear friendships and memories.
Time to go study embryology and clean the apartment. I may not have a "home" but I sure do have dishes and a house to clean. Anyone know of a good maid?
Oh well, at least the hour of exercise might assist me in getting into shape for next week's Cadaver Ball. Before you think I've lost my mind or think "Frank" and I are going somewhere on a date, let me explain. It's a tradition here at Quillen for the M2s to throw the M1s a formal every fall, a faculty roast of sorts where the M2s make fun of us and the professors, play music and just have a jolly good time taking the night off from studying. I told "Frank" I wasn't taking him so he's a little bent out of shape at the moment after hearing this. I know, we med. school nerds have an odd sense of humor.
Fall Break was a much needed respite from the stresses of school. It was nice just to have a weekend to do nothing and sit around the house and be lazy. Things had changed somewhat in my hometown, Smyrna. The old farmhouse (my grandmother's) that stood next to our house and the woods had been torn down and in its place stood an empty field ready to house the next building of school-aged punks...err...elementary school children and a wonderful powerline complements of TVA. Though I enjoyed my time there with my parents, it didn't feel like home because of the changes and the fact that most of my friends have moved away. So then I went to Knoxville, my second home so to speak, but it, too, was not as I had remembered it. My brief time in med. school had erased my carefree undergrad attitude and had given me a new appreciation of how much free time I used to have as an undergrad. Though hanging out with old friends was great and enjoyable, it didn't feel like home either. Last night, I traveled back to Johnson City, the least of the three towns that feel like home. I suppose this place never will have the "homey" atmosphere that Smyrna and Knoxville have; I don't expect deep roots to form here due to my lack of time to put forth the effort to do so. Then I got an email from one of my friends in Central America. Some might consider Central America my summer home, and indeed it seems like it is becoming that way. Yet, because of the cultural differences and ties I have here in the States I suppose it too will never become "home". With these thoughts in mind, I have come to the conclusion that I am "homeless" yet I'm content with this thought. My real home hopefully lies somewhere where all my friends from all these places will be together. I suppose that's why God has given us eternity, to have time to become reacquainted with everyone who has touched our lives and to meet those wonderful souls whom we never had the chance to meet here on earth. To use the old saying, my home is where my heart is, ie spread across states and countries in the form of many dear friendships and memories.
Time to go study embryology and clean the apartment. I may not have a "home" but I sure do have dishes and a house to clean. Anyone know of a good maid?
10.13.2004
Pedal Pusher Seeks Instruction
After the test on Monday (of which I was quite proud of my grade), I was definitely needing some well-deserved R&R. Not having class on Tuesday, only a seminar on "Cultural Competency" which I would have preferred to have clepped out of, my fellow and culturally competent classmate Hannah (who's lived most of her life as an MK in Africa) and I decided that we would go enjoy the fall weather. Since both of us were the recipients of generous loanings of bicycles by our thoughtful friends, we decided it would be fun to explore nearby Buffalo Mountain on bike. We met at Quillen and loaded up the bikes on the back of Hannah's car. The physchiatry residents, who had just finished their grand rounds that morning and were walking back to the hospital, cast envious gazes in our direction as they wished they were back in their first year of medical school and had plenty of free time to enjoy the fall weather.
Despite being neophytes at this whole sport they call "mountain biking," we were confident in our abilities to tackle any incline. I mean how hard could it be to pedal up a path? Well, we were mistaken. We should have realized the trip was doomed when we got the call from our other classmate, Kristen, early that morning saying that she had forgotten that her bike wasn't equipped with the right tires and she would have to bail on us. Then when we got there, Hannah realized that perhaps she should have put more air in her tires. Our friend Matt, a hardcore biker and outdoorsman had told us to take the trail on the left. However, the trail on the left looked more like a hiking trail and unsuitable for mountain biking. So, we decided to take the trail marked for ATVs since it was wider and less covered with tree roots.
With its washouts and 45% grade incline (ok so maybe it wasn't that steep), we found ourselves not so much mountain biking as walking our bikes up the mountain. After about a mile or two of these, Hannah and I decided that perhaps there is more to mountain biking tan pedal pushing and that maybe we should leave the Black Diamond level "hill" and find a more appropriate Bunny Slope upon which to test our skills. When we finally reached the bottom after many speedy descents and hasty dismounts to walk the bikes, we looked around and didn't see any other trails. We didn't just want to go home and waste the $5 donation we had made to the National Park Service for our 15 minute stay. Luckily, there was an old access road across the street. Hopping on our bikes, we road across the road and started up the gravel path. With a more gentle incline, we found little difficulty in biking up and down it for thirty minutes, Hannah's tires barely holding on.
Needless to say, we concluded that perhaps paths are better on foot, perhaps there is something more to biking than just pedal-pushing, and that perhaps we'd better try a few more spinning classes before planning another outdoor two-wheeled excursion.
Tomorrow's Rural Track day in Rogersville and Friday I'm headed back to Smyrna for Fall Break, my first time since moving here. Lots of traveling and all by car and foot. The semester has flown and I've enjoyed it, but thank goodness for fall break. Time to go study, the learning never ends.
Despite being neophytes at this whole sport they call "mountain biking," we were confident in our abilities to tackle any incline. I mean how hard could it be to pedal up a path? Well, we were mistaken. We should have realized the trip was doomed when we got the call from our other classmate, Kristen, early that morning saying that she had forgotten that her bike wasn't equipped with the right tires and she would have to bail on us. Then when we got there, Hannah realized that perhaps she should have put more air in her tires. Our friend Matt, a hardcore biker and outdoorsman had told us to take the trail on the left. However, the trail on the left looked more like a hiking trail and unsuitable for mountain biking. So, we decided to take the trail marked for ATVs since it was wider and less covered with tree roots.
With its washouts and 45% grade incline (ok so maybe it wasn't that steep), we found ourselves not so much mountain biking as walking our bikes up the mountain. After about a mile or two of these, Hannah and I decided that perhaps there is more to mountain biking tan pedal pushing and that maybe we should leave the Black Diamond level "hill" and find a more appropriate Bunny Slope upon which to test our skills. When we finally reached the bottom after many speedy descents and hasty dismounts to walk the bikes, we looked around and didn't see any other trails. We didn't just want to go home and waste the $5 donation we had made to the National Park Service for our 15 minute stay. Luckily, there was an old access road across the street. Hopping on our bikes, we road across the road and started up the gravel path. With a more gentle incline, we found little difficulty in biking up and down it for thirty minutes, Hannah's tires barely holding on.
Needless to say, we concluded that perhaps paths are better on foot, perhaps there is something more to biking than just pedal-pushing, and that perhaps we'd better try a few more spinning classes before planning another outdoor two-wheeled excursion.
Tomorrow's Rural Track day in Rogersville and Friday I'm headed back to Smyrna for Fall Break, my first time since moving here. Lots of traveling and all by car and foot. The semester has flown and I've enjoyed it, but thank goodness for fall break. Time to go study, the learning never ends.
10.11.2004
Upon the Mountain
Charlie's Bunion, April 2004 (photo courtesy of Justin Acuff) 
"He who forms mountains...and treads on the high places of the earth,
the Lord God of hosts is His name. " Amos 4:13
If you've ever spent any time with me at all, you know I have a fondness for the wilderness, particularly the mountains. Many of you, being sympathetic to my whims, have left your warm sheets on a Saturday morning to accompany me on a random adventure in the Smokies. I can't say why I have a predilection for spending time in the wilderness. My parents have never understood it, especially after an attempted hike to the Chimneys ended 5 hours later after they refused to believe my 100th encouraging statement of, "I think we're almost to the top." Perhaps it is because of the aforementioned verse; there seems to be something about spending time at a lofty height that gives one a sense of being closer to the presence of God. Even those who don't consider themselves "spiritual" or "religious" admit to having a seemingly spiritual experience when peering down from a ridge to view the expanse of leafy boughs below. Despite the sweat, the burn of muscles, the shortness of breath that one experiences to reach the summit, the view is always worth the effort. How can one not having a feeling of satisfaction being surrounded by God's creation and looking out on to all that He has made?
This time of year is especially rewarding as the trees exhibit a delectable palette of ochres, crimsons, and sepias, tinged with evergreens. Though I had a test today, I couldn't pass the opportunity to spend an hour on Buffalo Mountain this past Friday afternoon. The leaves have begun to turn here in Johnson City, only whetting my appetite for a walk through the Smokies. I have to say moving away from the Smokies is one of the sacrifices of medical school. I'm thankful fall break is next week and that I'll have the opportunity to venture once again to my "playground" of sorts next Tuesday. Yep, I'm like a little kid. Forget the TV and high-tech toys, just put me in the mountains and leave me there for a few hours. I'll find plenty of ways to amuse myself, whether it be ''naming" the native flora (purple and white are my favorite species), misguiding my poor friends down a "path less taken" or trying to traverse a "shallow" stream crossing.
These hikes have lead me to many beautiful outlooks, only accessible after miles on foot and far more spectacular than any drive-in parkway "scenic overlook". Sometimes I think as Christians we expect God to grant us the mountain top experiences with only the effort of pulling up our car and jumping out for a few snap shots. Yet, to get to the real views, those untainted by man-made objects, those glimpses into the vestibule of heaven and God's portfolio of creation, takes effort and preparation. It takes strength and endurance, having the physical fitness and the right gear with you to make it to the top. Lack of either of these will put one in a bind and unable to reach the goal (and believe me I've been in both situations). Yet, I know myself especially, we often scream to God "Put me back upon the mountain top!" but we are unwilling to undergo the discipline and training needed to reach that mountain top. Hours spent mindlessly spinning my legs on the elliptical machines or sweating it out in body sculpting class may not be my ideal of fun, but it's necessary to stay and shape to do the things I really enjoy. Likewise, disciplining ourselves in areas such as prayer, service, and study may not be the most enjoyable at times; however, they are necessary components to reach that which God has set before us.
For now, I'll be content to stay in the gym and the confines of the M1 classroom and dream about next week's cool, crisp mountain air and the smell of freshly fallen leaves and how I'm going to summit the next mountain God puts in my life.
This time of year is especially rewarding as the trees exhibit a delectable palette of ochres, crimsons, and sepias, tinged with evergreens. Though I had a test today, I couldn't pass the opportunity to spend an hour on Buffalo Mountain this past Friday afternoon. The leaves have begun to turn here in Johnson City, only whetting my appetite for a walk through the Smokies. I have to say moving away from the Smokies is one of the sacrifices of medical school. I'm thankful fall break is next week and that I'll have the opportunity to venture once again to my "playground" of sorts next Tuesday. Yep, I'm like a little kid. Forget the TV and high-tech toys, just put me in the mountains and leave me there for a few hours. I'll find plenty of ways to amuse myself, whether it be ''naming" the native flora (purple and white are my favorite species), misguiding my poor friends down a "path less taken" or trying to traverse a "shallow" stream crossing.
These hikes have lead me to many beautiful outlooks, only accessible after miles on foot and far more spectacular than any drive-in parkway "scenic overlook". Sometimes I think as Christians we expect God to grant us the mountain top experiences with only the effort of pulling up our car and jumping out for a few snap shots. Yet, to get to the real views, those untainted by man-made objects, those glimpses into the vestibule of heaven and God's portfolio of creation, takes effort and preparation. It takes strength and endurance, having the physical fitness and the right gear with you to make it to the top. Lack of either of these will put one in a bind and unable to reach the goal (and believe me I've been in both situations). Yet, I know myself especially, we often scream to God "Put me back upon the mountain top!" but we are unwilling to undergo the discipline and training needed to reach that mountain top. Hours spent mindlessly spinning my legs on the elliptical machines or sweating it out in body sculpting class may not be my ideal of fun, but it's necessary to stay and shape to do the things I really enjoy. Likewise, disciplining ourselves in areas such as prayer, service, and study may not be the most enjoyable at times; however, they are necessary components to reach that which God has set before us.
For now, I'll be content to stay in the gym and the confines of the M1 classroom and dream about next week's cool, crisp mountain air and the smell of freshly fallen leaves and how I'm going to summit the next mountain God puts in my life.
10.04.2004
Life on Rocky Top
Nicoll and I showing our GameDay Spirit
I debated on making this post one of my usual, serious reflective pieces or something a little more light and humorous. Seeing as how it's quite late at night (or early in the morning) and knowing that I'm typically characterized for being more goofy than somber at this hour, I think I'll put in something a little on the lighter side. That being said, on with the post....
I know you might be wondering, why is a medical student up in the wee hours of the morning when they have class at 8am? You see, I had the misfortune of travelling back to Knoxville this weekend where I was reintroduced to what life is like as an undergrad. Sadly, I think the influences of those of so lucky, full of free time, undergraduates overcame my responsible, professional nature that typifies my persona of the model med. student. While my oh-so studious peers were confined to visions of Netter's Atlas pages and dates with their Anatomy Lab Partners, I was observing another wonderful weekend in Big Orange Land.
Besides getting to spend time with the best little sister and best big sister a girl could want (Nicoll and Mer) and trying not to get into too much trouble, I decided to compile a list of "Thou Shalt Nots" for those unfamiliar as to how Tennessee Culture works on a game day weekend:
(In no particular order)
1. Thou shalt not wear any colors besides orange or white (note Nicoll and I demostrating proper UT attire on Saturdays in October). Lime green or the opponent's colors are unacceptable.
2. Thou shalt not use the late starting time of the game as an excuse for more time to raise your blood alcohol level
3. Thou shalt not be a guest of gracious UT hosts and then proceed to shout "War Eagle!!" on the premises of their humble abode
4. Thou shalt not turn around and offer your fellow UT fan peanuts only to tell them that they need to eat them because their throat is sore from "talking too much" throughout the game.
5.Thou shalt not refrain from the clapping of hands and the screaming of "Woo!" when encouraging songs about moonshine and women are played to spur your team on to victory
6. Thou shalt not use the traffic jam after the game as an excuse to violate every traffic law ever written
7.Thou shalt not get up in the middle of halftime, thinking that food is more important than watching the "Pride of the Southland" and the dance ministry team
and finally (who said there had to be ten of these?)...
8.Thou shalt not work for ESPN GameDay and then kick Smokey off the set for disliking your predictions
What can I say? Once a Vol, always a Vol.
Good Ol' Rocky Top (woo!), Rocky Top Tennessee!
I debated on making this post one of my usual, serious reflective pieces or something a little more light and humorous. Seeing as how it's quite late at night (or early in the morning) and knowing that I'm typically characterized for being more goofy than somber at this hour, I think I'll put in something a little on the lighter side. That being said, on with the post....
I know you might be wondering, why is a medical student up in the wee hours of the morning when they have class at 8am? You see, I had the misfortune of travelling back to Knoxville this weekend where I was reintroduced to what life is like as an undergrad. Sadly, I think the influences of those of so lucky, full of free time, undergraduates overcame my responsible, professional nature that typifies my persona of the model med. student. While my oh-so studious peers were confined to visions of Netter's Atlas pages and dates with their Anatomy Lab Partners, I was observing another wonderful weekend in Big Orange Land.
Besides getting to spend time with the best little sister and best big sister a girl could want (Nicoll and Mer) and trying not to get into too much trouble, I decided to compile a list of "Thou Shalt Nots" for those unfamiliar as to how Tennessee Culture works on a game day weekend:
(In no particular order)
1. Thou shalt not wear any colors besides orange or white (note Nicoll and I demostrating proper UT attire on Saturdays in October). Lime green or the opponent's colors are unacceptable.
2. Thou shalt not use the late starting time of the game as an excuse for more time to raise your blood alcohol level
3. Thou shalt not be a guest of gracious UT hosts and then proceed to shout "War Eagle!!" on the premises of their humble abode
4. Thou shalt not turn around and offer your fellow UT fan peanuts only to tell them that they need to eat them because their throat is sore from "talking too much" throughout the game.
5.Thou shalt not refrain from the clapping of hands and the screaming of "Woo!" when encouraging songs about moonshine and women are played to spur your team on to victory
6. Thou shalt not use the traffic jam after the game as an excuse to violate every traffic law ever written
7.Thou shalt not get up in the middle of halftime, thinking that food is more important than watching the "Pride of the Southland" and the dance ministry team
and finally (who said there had to be ten of these?)...
8.Thou shalt not work for ESPN GameDay and then kick Smokey off the set for disliking your predictions
What can I say? Once a Vol, always a Vol.
Good Ol' Rocky Top (woo!), Rocky Top Tennessee!
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