Latin Americitis

9 days: just enough time to get to know a place and its people and to miss them when you have to leave.
I think every time I leave Central America, I leave a larger piece of my heart behind. The past 9 days were an unexpected blessing of finally seeing a part of a dream realized as I attended to my very first patient as an aspiring physician, my attending being a room away for those emergency consults due to frequent lapses in medical knowledge. It was a blessing to affirm that the past 2 years tucked away in the dungeon of Stanton Gerber Hall were not spent in vain and that facts such as Sturge-Weber syndrome is characterized by a port-wine stain, a left supraclavicular lymph node is indicative of metastasis of gastric cancer, and exopthalmos is one of the three characteristics of Grave's Disease are all important and relevant. Yet, even though I have already assimilated an incredible amount of information, this week taught me I still have even more to learn and the next two years will not be trivial.
It was a wonderful opportunity to be able to spend over a week with some amazing brothers and sisters in Christ, both from Nicaragua and the United States. I think one of the strongest evidences for Christianity is the transformation of lives, the life of a California gang member transformed to that of a strong Christian servant of his Christian family, the life of a shy angry girl now filled with joy and enthusiam at the thought of serving God's precious children. That's what I love about my Christian family-we come from such a diverse background and collection of talents yet God finds a way to use each and every one of us. Whether we can teach, heal, sew, preach, or simply smile and let someone know they are loved, we each have our role in supporting our Christian family in their strengths and in their weaknesses.
Serving abroad isn't about the pictures you take or the souveneirs you purchased. It isn't about the exotic places you visited or the foods you sampled. It's about the people. It's about remembering what those two wooden beams symbolize and reminding yourself of why you've dedicated your life to serving the man who hung from them. It's about getting in touch with that part of your soul which is obscured by the materialism and frantic lifestyle led in the United States.
Instead of the per usual quote, I leave you with a few special moments from the past week:



Benny Baker from Mision para Cristo told me I'd never forget them because I saw my first patient in Nicaragua. He's right. How many people have a picture of the first patient they ever saw?



With this view, who needs a rental cabin in the Smokies?



What else can I say? Simply precious.

A Repost of Sorts

Reflections from the Mission Field: Guatemala 2005

There are those special people in your life whose friendship endures throughout the years, even though the calls grow few and the letters less numerous. With these people you can pick up with right where you left off, as if no time had passed, and you wonder why you lost contact with them in the first place. While in Guatemala, I became reacquainted with such a friend. His name is Jesus.
At one point or another in our life we met Jesus for the first time. We were awed by the mercy and love he showed us. We wanted to give our lives totally to him and his cause and tell the entire world about what he has done for us. Yet, as the years pass we lose our desire to share the “good news” because we’ve forgotten exactly what the “good news” is that we wanted to share. Our relationship with our Savior gets replaced by our doctrines, rituals, traditions, and cultural beliefs. Sometimes the very things we do in his name, our service and projects, become the face of Christ instead of Christ himself. We serve but we forget exactly who it is for which we are serving. In my many years of living for my Savior, my image of him had dimmed to a poor reflection like that in a cloudy mirror. Little did I know that three weeks in Guatemala would be spent not only being reacquainted with my dear brothers and sisters in Christ there, but with my Savior as well.
Once in Honduras on a mission trip, as part of our nightly devotional we were asked to share where we saw Jesus that day. I saw Jesus at work everyday in Guatemala as he reminded me of what a wonderful Savior he is to me:

I saw Jesus touched with compassion when two men led their lame friend in to be seen by Jesus and how He lovingly told him to get up and walk. (Luke 5:18,20,24)

I saw Him reach out to the man who was drowning in his alcoholism and submerse him in something to drink that would never leave him thirsty. (John 4:14)



Even though we could do nothing but pray for her, I saw Jesus gently take the disfigured hand of an elderly Quiche woman broken from the hardships of life. I saw him heal her hand, replace sight to her cataract-blinded eyes, and give strength to her weary body. (Luke 13:12)

I saw Jesus gently explain to the lady with terminal liver cancer that though her life here on earth was about to end, that He had a much better one prepared for her in the life to come. (John 14:1-2)



I saw Jesus take up the burdens of those heavy laden with the struggles of life and walk beside them on the way. (Matthew 11:28-30)

I saw Jesus sitting on a mountain top looking at all the wonderful things His Father had made on this Earth and preaching the good news to all who would listen. (Matthew 5:1-2)

I saw Jesus walk to the forgotten corners of the world, to the villages of Quiché, and I saw him have compassion on those “precious and pure” people, sheep who were looking for their Shepherd. (Mark 6:34)

I may have had to say goodbye to some dearly-missed friends in Guatemala, but I came home with my best friend, Jesus.

More Randomness

Sorry. A month spent in absolute assimilation of every scrap of medical trivia known to mankind leads to a post-exam rush of imaginative thinking.

1.Facebook: Yes, I have fallen victim to the evils of digital communication. I imagine one day, our children will look back and ask, "Mommy, you mean you actually met up and talked to your friends WITHOUT using a computer?" Face-to-face contact. Soon to be a sought-after relic. Another thing about Facebook: why does it seem that everyone has to put a bottle in their picture? Does having your photograph with Mr.Jack Daniels or his cousin Bud automatically raise your status in society or your level of sophistication?
Yet another thing: Why do people feel obliged to post every aspect of their life on Facebook? Do I really care what your favorite movies are and do I really want to see 67 pictures of last year's spring break and your pet dog Rufus? Isn't it supposed to be a means to keep in touch with people so that you know how to contact them when you actually want to find out those things in person over a cup of Puerto Rican coffee and a Krispy Kreme chocolate sprinkle donut (organic of course ;-))?

2.Medical terms. Of course I couldn't blog without relating my post to medicine. I have come to learn that physicians are so intelligent that they quickly become bored with using ordinary terms to describe a situation. Instead, they invent new terminology, most of it an attempt to revive the dead Latin language. Example:
A 48yo wm and his spouse were traveling on the interstate. Being somewhat convoluted in nature, they were unaware when they reached the bifurcation of the interstate and soon found themselves in an MVA with the vehicle in a left decubitus position.
Translation: Jim and Jane were traveling on the interstate. Being somewhat curvy in nature [the interstate], they were unaware when they reached the point where the interstate split and soon found themselves in an MVA with the vehicle on its left side.
or
Doctor, I seem to have an erythematous, verrucous mass on my buccal mucosa. It's pruritic and I've also noticed the concomitant symptom of nocturnal epistaxis.
Translation: Doc I have this red warty thing on the side of my mouth. It itches and I've also noticed that my nose seems to bleed at night when I have this.

3.Short Term Mission Trips: Why does it seem that everyone who spends a week in a foreign country suddenly becomes an expert in foreign policy and the culture of that country? Please, if you travel abroad, refrain from making hasty generalizations about the people of that nations. You wouldn't desire people from other nations calling all Americans "fat, lazy, complaining, couch potatoes" would you? Then please don't say 50% of Hondurans live in tiny wooden shacks with dirt floors and compare the workmanship to something your grandchild might build for fun on a camping trip. Also, please don't say "We are so blessed here in the US," as if God's blessing doesn't extend to those in developing nations just because it's not in a monetary form. Doesn't the Bible actually say "woe to the rich" and "blessed are the poor?" Some of the "richest" people I've ever met owned practically nothing and some of the "poorest" people I've ever met seemingly had all their material wants fulfilled.

4.Marital Status: Why does it seem that the defining characteristic of someone in the 20-30 age bracket is their marital status? And why do people hastily assume that just because you haven't moved up the ranks to the mini-van/cradle roll bracket, like all your peers from high school, that you are eagerly awaiting rescue from your status of "singleness?" And why must people assume that just because you're single and female means that anyone who is single and male is sure to be an instantaneous and perfect match for you?

5.Being Female and Being a Medical Student: If I am asked one more time after telling someone I'm in medical school "So are you going to be a doctor or a nurse?" I'm going to start a national campaign for women's rights and join the feminist movement. I'm absolutely sure that this question would not be asked of me were I of the male gender. Yes, there are many wonderful female nurses in this world; however, I am not one of them nor are 50% of my classmates. I have not spent the past two years of my life pouring over the TCA cycle and memorizing Dr.Musich's insane list of transcription factors to be called a nurse. What's my usual answer to this question? A sweet smile and the reply, "I'm going to be a doctor."

You Can Call Me "M" and Other Randomness

(the "D" comes in two years).

I still can't believe I'm halfway through my medical education. When I awoke this morning, I almost felt guilty for not studying. No memorizing the innumerable side effects of phenytoin, no constructing crazy acronyms or diagrams to remember which viruses have + RNA and which ones have - RNA, and no late night rendevous with Mr.Netter or Dr.Brown's notes.
I'm free.
No longer is my life quantified and organized by when the next pharmacology exam is or whether or not I know every minute detail about the pathology of alcoholism.

In less than a month, I'll change to being just another beeper-wearing, stethoscope-toting neophyte, lost somewhere in the halls of JCMC. Sometimes I still can't fathom the thought that I'm in medical school. That shy, little girl from Smyrna is going to be a doctor? Nah... You must be talking about the wrong person.

So it's good to be back in Smyrna for a few weeks. Good to pretend to be just a normal, average member of society, whatever that means. Good to not have to use the excuse of "I have to study" to miss social engagements and to engage in mindless activities like going to the movies without having the nagging thought of twenty more pages of notes to review before the next day. It's nice to have a change of pace from the frenzied life of a medical student to that of a student on summer break.

I have to say, every time I travel from Johnson City to Smyrna, I'm entertained by people's personal expression in the form of bumper stickers. My latest favorites are:

"My other car is a pair of boots"

"I love my wife"

"God is not a Republican....nor a Democrat"

Be careful of what you wish for. When I was a child, I told my parents that I really wanted a pony. I told my grandmother that she should give up some of her land to build a school so I could ride my (then) nonexistent pony to the (then) nonexistent school. It's strange how those seemingly important yet trite wishes have a way of coming true. My wish for a pony was fulfilled when I was fourteen, and now my wish for a school has been fulfilled. Unfortunately, my pony is now at the pony retirement home, and I'm too old to go to school.

It's funny how one can grow attached to a piece of land. It was never my land to begin with yet I was always allowed free reign to traverse its fields, as long as I didn't step on the new crop of corn or frighten the cows. It was my personal retreat, whether it be to run to grandma's house to receive comfort from a troubled day at school or time spent by the pond watching the reflection of the clouds on the water's surface. And now? All those memories are just memories. The fields with cattle and corn are a flattened plot of dusty earth. In place of corn stalks are steel beams bearing the mark of the structures of higher education for the next generation. And the lady who I told to give up her land so that I could ride my pony to school is no longer here to see the school for which she gave her land. But I suppose that's life. Change is inevitable but it's never easy to change. I think Alan Jackson aptly sums up my current sentiments:

"If my dear old dog never got old

If the family farm never got sold

Another bad joke never got told

That'd be alright"

So thanks for all your prayers, thoughts, support, blog readings, etc...It's been a crazy journey the past few years and I'm sure it will be another crazy two years to come. Vamos a ver!

Hip Hip Hooray!!!!

There was a girl who took a test and Step 1 was it's name (o)
S-T-E-P 1!
S-T-E-P 1!
S-T-E-P 1!
She took it and now she is done!!

(that's to the tune of "Bingo" in case you couldn't guess)

Yes...it's official...call me "M3" and never show me a Step 1 book again. More lucid thoughts to come once I recover from the mental fog of a day's worth of clicking bubbles on a computer screen....I'm so glad it's finally summer...