It's a Small World

The link to my med. school pics wasn't working well so I decided to post a few below.

On another note, I'm realizing that I still have the gift (or curse as it may be) of not being able to go anywhere without running into someone I know. It was bad enough in high school that one of my friends and I had a game to see who would encounter the most previously-known people on our outing. Each encounter was worth a point, and the person with the most points won. Today was no different. I was at Opry Mills mall hanging out with a friend from UT. Not expecting to know anyone in the vast sea of bargain hunters, not only did I run across two old friends from UT, but I also saw a couple I knew from Honduras who were vacationing in the US. What are the odds of that? It appears that my game has reached an international level. I suppose it's a small world after all.

Michele +4
everyone else ???

It's a Party!

The Saturday before Finals Week, some of my Rural Track comrades and I took a study break and celebrated the end of the semester with a little shindig at my place. It was a nice litte respite complete with homemade salsa, turtle brownies, and Kristen's grandmother's Christmas tree cheese spreader.

Cadaver Ball Pics

All Dressed Up with Somewhere to Go

Loan, me, Candace, and Kelly wait at Cheddars to be seated. Who said med. school girls were boring, geeky nerds?

Before Cadaver Ball at Cheddars


See, we med. students don't always wear scrubs and white coats and study all the time. Occasionally we find an excuse to don something a little more "festive" and go out and have a good time roasting the Quillen faculty and attempting to convince Loan to dance.

They're Up

The long-awaited med school photos are finally here. Check them out at:

http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/michelegourley/album?.dir=d386&.src=
ph&store=&prodid=&.done=http%3a//pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/michelegourley/my_photos

Everyone Has a Story to Tell

My pet cow Angela


Since everyone abhors Christmas trees, Santa Claus, and reindeer, I thought I'd start a new tradition of having a "Christmas cow" (hey it has to be halfway religious since baby Jesus was born in a stable). Just kidding. I'll get to the meaning of this picture in a minute.
I hope you all are enjoying this wonderful Christmas day. To me it's actually more like the day after Christmas since our big Christmas celebration is on Christmas Eve. Every December 24th my dad's side of the family gathers to eat lots of food, enjoy each other's company, and to celebrate Christmas. When I was younger, this time symbolized a time to sit at the "little kids" table at dinner, out of harm's way and away from anything breakable. It also was a time to fight over who got to play "Santa" and hand out presents and a time to show off our wonderful piano skills by plunking out "Jolly Old St.Nicholas" 5 million times on the ancient, out-of-tune piano that sat in my grandparents' living room. After all was said and done, my dad's four siblings, seven cousins, and I returned to our respective homes to sleep, our heads filled with dreams of snow and Santa.
This Christmas Eve, my grandparents' house being nothing but a pile of rubble, we gathered at my aunt's to celebrate Christmas. Though much older and weaned from my piano plunking, I was still banished to the "little kids" table for dinner along with my seven cousins. Having enough stuff, my focus has shifted from what's under the tree to the people sitting around it. One of the things I like most about Christmas (Eve), is being able to catch up on the lives of my relatives and all the stories that are swapped of my aunts and uncles, grandparents, and the "Good Ole Days." Last night was no different. Being an avid scrapbooker, my aunt had recently scrapbooked our family history, starting with my great-grandparents and ending with her childhood. I listened with interest as each page of pictures evoked stories of my grandfather and grandmother and their children. Each story brought the pictures to life, and I realized that these stories contribute to who I am today. The pictures of the herd of cows my grandparents owned standing in snow and the fish tale-like stories of how my dad and his siblings had to "go out and chop the foot-thick ice off the pond in 50 below temperatures" are the reason for the picture shown above of my pet cow (a great-granddaughter of the frost-covered cows in the picture) and me. So as we sat around the fake-log fire sipping hot apple cider and reminiscing, I learned that each person has a story to share and each picture has a story and it is those stories that define who we are today. If you get a chance, grab a mug of cider, sit down, grab some old photos, and take time to swap stories. Maybe if med school doesn't work out, I'll just go around to nursing homes and homeless shelters and listen to stories.
Anyways, I'm off to try out my new "kicks" and burn some Christmas calories on the treadmill downstairs. Have a Merry Christmas!!!

An Ode to My First Patient

I've officially finished my first semester of med. school and what a semester it has been! It has been the most demanding 4 months of my life: mentally, physically, and emotionally. I've entered a world that few, if I even, understand. A world that deals with the human body and embraces the workings of the soul. I would sum it up in a few short words, but I can't. The next few days will be spent in my own attempt at trying to assimilate and digest all that my mind and body have consumed since that first week of school in August.
The following was read by one of my lab partners at our cadaver memorial service honoring "Frank," my first patient. I couldn't have expressed it any better. Enjoy the insight into my new life and what I've experienced:

Two Lives (an ode to Frank)

by Andrew J. Lipman

Sometimes we wanted to know your name, but we gave you one.
I guess that means that you almost had two identities, really two lives:
One with your family, the other with your students.
Many will want to speak about your tremendous gift--and it is.
Others will want to extol the virtues of studying the human body.
I want to share with you some of my transgressions.
I would be lying if I said I always came to class...
Lying if I said at all times I kept you covered to protect your dignity...
Remiss if I did not mention that you made me nervous sometimes,
especially at the beginning of our relationship...
Did I sometimes fail to respect you as much as I should have? yes...
Was I ever angry with you? yes... Sometimes you hid things from me.
My teachers call that missing points on tests.
I call it not paying attention to you.
But, despite these transgressions, you won.
You did what you set out to do when you gave me your body.
William Carlos Williams said that
"in surgery, man sees what God never meant him to see."
His point is that very few of us have such a privilege.
I think it's the same with anatomy. Now, I can't go back.
I will always know what a human heart looks like. It's almost reflexive:
someone says an anatomic term and I can close my eyes and see it--in fact, I see yours.
But I guess I'm most amazed by your total trust in strangers.
There are so few examples of this trust to guide us anymore.
I think it would be presumptuous to think you trusted me, personally, because I could have been anyone.
Instead, you gave completely of yourself to all,
in hopes of teaching us a lesson about trust.
You have set a precedent with me. I've had my first intense relationship with a patient.
And that was you.

Deep Thoughts with Michele

I gave you a warning with the title; this may be a long one but one I've been wanting to write for awhile...

I'll admit it. I usually have trouble paying attention in church. After sitting for hours in class listening to professors throughout the week, it's hard for my mind not to make the same association with the preacher in the pulpit and zone out after a few minutes. However, a few Sundays ago, I think God must have told the preacher to script a sermon especially for me. The sermon was entitled, "According to Mark: Jesus' Preparation" Now I don't know about you , but I guess I never actually sat down and thought that Jesus would ever have to prepare for his minstry. He was God's son; therefore, I suppose the assumption was made on my part that he knew everything and had everything he needed to do everything. Yet, as was pointed out in the sermon, Christ "learned obedience" and "grew in wisdom". If you think about it, God's son was on earth for 30 years doing nothing that we would consider significant had it been any other person (how many of us give accolades to our local furniture repairman?) for 3 years of service. On the other hand, Christ spent 30 years preparing himself for his purpose here on earth.

I have to confess, I've missed this point the past few months ie in order to do that which is God's purpose for us we have to under go the necessary preparation that will equip us for that purpose. Behind me sits my marimba, collecting dust from little use. I'll admit; at one time I was good at playing the marimba and on my way to performing at a professional level. I'll also admit that this didn't come by accident or "great talent". I would spend hours upon hours in the practice room working on a line of music for an audition or perfecting three or four notes until they conveyed that which I heard in my mind. I still know all of those songs and the nuances I worked so hard to perfect, but you would be sorely disappointed if I were to perform those same works for you today. It's not that I don't know the music; it's that I haven't spent any time practicing lately. It takes lots of preparation to perfect the final product, and constant practice to maintain that which we have learned.
In having the strong desire and vision to fulfill that which God has placed before me, I have forgotten the amount of preparation that must come beforehand. In trying to find my way out of the ill-fitting sweater (see previous post from a long time ago ;-)), I have whined and complained about the very door God has opened for me. And in looking back and reflecting on my first semester of medical school, I realize that God doesn't always supply us with ease and contentment. Rather, he puts us through that which will prepare us, not sparing his son of 40 days in the wilderness, Ezekiel of the death of his wife, or Job of everything he had. I have come to realize that striving to be a perfect Christian is not striving to be a perfect person. Instead it is striving to be completely in tune with God's will and saying "here am I" to every situation He places before you and being open to whatever discipline and preparation he requires of you.

That being said, I can now say that I officially survived my first semester of medical school (ok tomorrow after I say goodbye to Frank and take my Anatomy shelf). I didn't fail out, not even close, and I'm looking foward to the next two weeks of doing anything but medicine. I've learned more than I ever knew, and I'm looking foward to what next semester holds. No sad, sad violins and no why me's--only joyful obedience in pursuing that which is God's purpose (you guys feel free to hold me to that).

Where in the World am I?

Or should I say will be? I've been thinking about this upcoming summer alot lately (yes I know I should be studying). It'll be my last free summer for quite some time and I'd like to take advantage of that. I could go back to Central America and do mission work, but then I could also do that for 2-3 months my 4th year when I actually know more about medicine and what I'm doing. I could also go to Nigeria for 3 weeks on a medical missions trip with Dr.Farrar and work at the hospital there. Then there's always the "backpacking Europe" trip I promised myself I'd do in college that I never did. I wouldn't mind seeing more of the world since it seems like each part I go to, God teaches me a new lesson about the people He's created.

Decisions, decisions....I was never good at making them.

Any suggestions or offers of companionship on my sojourn to wherever (the sky's the limit) would be greatly appreciated.

Back to studying. 1 final down (let's just say I kicked cadaver booty) and 2 to go!

*Randomness*

So I lied a little and said I wasn't going to post. I'm sitting here in the computer lab at Stanton Gerber taking a study break. I guess it's a sign that you should go home and go to sleep after you walk out of the little X-Ray/MRI room in lab to find that there's no one there but you, the cadavers, and the freshly-cut cross sections. It freaked me out a little.
Christmas: so I decided to have a little shindig for my Rural Track friends this coming Saturday. It's really just an excuse for me to play Martha Stewart and go shopping for things to decorate my apartment with for Christmas. Let's just say I'm not allowed to go to Kmart by myself anymore. After an hour of purusing the aisles (I don't think I spelled puruse right), I left with half a hundred dollars worth of stuff (grant it, some of that was groceries). I personally don't have too much of a problem with Christmas as long as it's not stressful and people aren't fighting over materialistic things. I kinda like the holiday because it's an excuse for everyone to come together. People fly in from all over the country just to be around each other for this special day. I like seeing people I know; therefore, I like Christmas.
Quillen: I love Quillen. It's been a rough semester but I wouldn't trade it for the world. I love the people here; everyone from the dean to the janitors all chip in to do their part. My classmates are wonderful; I don't know how I would have gotten by without them. Downside? Going to med school and moving to the middle of nowhere gives you the feeling that you've discombobulated yourself from your former life. You don't have time to visit your old friends and no one wants to come to the middle of hickville Tennessee (no offense NE Tennesseans) to visit you.
Cycling: My new hobby. It must be cool b/c Dr.Kwas the head honcho of Anatomy joins me regularly for cycling class.
Don't ever go on Saturday.
1. The guy who teaches it is a masochist and the whole class consists of sprints or a 7 minute "climb" up the steepest hill you've ever ridden.
2. He works out to weird music. I'm sorry but Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata, 80's pop, and Indian chant music do not mix well for a spinning class.
11:30pm: Yeah, I think I'd better go study some more.

Feel free to comment away. Procrastination is a beautiful thing as long as you've already done your required studying.

"Don't it always seem to go, that you don't know what you've got til it's gone. They paved paradise and put up a parking lot." -some 60's hippie chick and Counting Crows

Look I'm Famous!

http://com.etsu.edu/default.asp?V_DOC_ID=1758

ok not really. I've come to the realization that the next two weeks are going to be as opposite of fun as possible. The key words are going to be stressed, studying, and sleeping (ok so maybe just the first two). Ahh, how I long for the days of undergrad when I could say "I have sooo much homework and studying to do for finals!" when really I could go catch the double feature at the drive-in two days before the exam, make 5am runs to Waffle house the morning of after staying up all night cramming, and still ace the class. Ain't gonna happen this time. Bye bye world until Dec 18th.

If you wanna talk to your over-stressed, under-relaxed med school nerd friend or think it'd be cool to hang out with her during the measly two weeks she gets for break, send her an email at michelegourley@yahoo.com or call her at 615-300-you know the rest...

I'm not checking my blog (or anyone's for that matter) until after exams so if you want to get in touch you're going to have to use the above mentioned methods or come see me in the least-visited town of Tennessee (JC) or Smyrna. Cheers and bask in your many hours of freedom of being an undergrad!

Time for class. Break's over.

Romans 12 and other inspiring thoughts that I'll write about when I get a chance.

It's Their Own Fault

I wasn't planning on posting anymore until after finals, but in honor of AIDS Awareness Day and how I feel about it, I had to write a few lines. The title of the blog is often quoted by many when asked about the victims of AIDS. Since the epidemic began its spread through sinful acts, many, especially Christians, associate everyone affected by the disease as a blatant heathen, deserving of the consequence of AIDS. However, how do you pass that same judgement on a child born with AIDS, a woman who contracted AIDS through her unfaithful husband (the biggest risk factor is S. Africa is being a married woman), or a grandmother who now suffers from the disease by caring for her HIV positive daughter's sores? It's a travesty that we condemn more readily than we understand.
I'm sure many of you are thinking, "This will never affect me; why should I care?" Colin Powell states that AIDS is the world's "biggest weapon of mass destruction," and it has already lowered the life expectancy in many countries of Africa to less than 40 years of age. Much of the workforce in these countries will soon be wiped out, leaving countless orphans and a continent of instability and devastation.
Though rigorous and complex, one can provide treatment for an AIDS patient for a mere $150 a year. That's about 1% of the income of someone at the poverty line here in the United States. One percent. Those drugs could provide 10 more years of life to allow a father to raise his children or a mother to be a mother and not leave her 15 year old daughter an orphan and caretaker of the entire family. Think about it.

In the meantime, I urge you to visit the following websites and support the effort to stop this tragic epidemic.

http://www.theonecampaign.org

http://46664.tiscali.com

Hope you guys have a wonderful holiday season and don't ever forget how blessed you are.

BloG oN VacaTioN

"Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. "- Matthew 6:19

It was kinda nice to take a walk around the farm this weekend. Although every building on the premise was razed, the house, the barn, and even the old tractor shed, it brought a sense of peace and closure that I've been seeking for almost a year. The rubble of the structures that represented the passing of one of the cornerstones of my life will soon be replaced by highly-modern uniform edifices promoting the education of your future children. As my dog and I traversed the acres of once-grazed pastures and scouted the rubble of wood and rocks and weather-rusted farm implements, the verse above kept appearing in my mind. So many of us value the temporary. Almost every item of the rubble was once valued by someone whether it be the builders of the house 200 years ago or my horse who greeted me many frosty mornings from his stall in the barn. Yet, all these things are gone now. However, each of these items have left an impression on many and left me with many wonderful memories. More importantly is the impact of which the occupants and owners of these items left on me, and I realize that treasures are not to be found among the pile of rubble, now only valued by men with metal detectors, that was part of what I once called "home." Rather, enduring treasure is found in relationships with those we love and that which leads to eternity, ultimately, the cross. (I think heaven was made for eternity so we'll have time to get to know everyone there).

So as I think of what I want for Christmas, I can only come up with a simple request. I don't want the latest must-have that will be come the most recent has-been in a few months. I don't want to participate in the feast of materialism that descends upon our society at this time of year. What I want for Christmas is to spend time with those who God has blessed me with knowing for my precious time here on Earth. If you're in the middle TN area between 12/19-1/2 or passing along I-81 sometime between now and then, feel free to give me a call or email me and we'll try get together sometime.

In regards to the title of this blog, I'm taking a blogging hiatus for the next few weeks (with maybe a few short posts of verses and such) to concentrate on my upcoming exams, the end of the semester, and all that God has shown me the past few months. I will still be checking it from time to time so feel free to leave me a comment or drop me a message.

I Love Y'all and Good Luck with Exams!!

What's Your MP?

(before reading see disclaimer at bottom)

Current color: Fuschia
Current song: Start the Commotion
Current mood: Goofball

Seeing as how I'm in a half silly/giddy mood (too much time on the elliptical can do that), I thought I'd address the serious subject of MP. If you don't know what MP stands for you're:

a. too young
b. not around enough little old ladies at church
c. not eligible anymore

Calculating one's MP is a time consuming and complicated process involving at least two years of upper level math or a crash course in statistics. However, knowing one's MP is helpful with things such as determining the size of an apartment to rent, how many fluffy white cats one should buy, or what church one should attend. This being said, I've calculated my MP to be -2 (0 being neutral, neither advantageous nor disadvantageous). Many factors such as the ones below were taken into consideration.

1.Location. This is a very important factor when calculating MP. In fact, my MP dropped two points when I moved to Johnson City (not so many fish in the sea to speak). Where you eventually want to live also is a factor. Since I want to move to a hut in the middle of Central America, my MP dropped to -4. If you live in Knoxville add 3 to your MP.
2. Career. Another important consideration. Since women in med. school is viewed differently by different people, it is a neutral factor in the calculation of my MP. +/-5
3.Personality. Another one of the Big 3 in calculating MP. If you're charming, witty, and intelligent such as myself then add 6. If people would rather play with the cardboard box their PlayStation came in than spend an hour with you, then subtract 4.
4.Christian. A big player in my book. +20
5. Hobbies. The saying "opposites attract" isn't entirely true. +1 for every interesting thing about you (yes collecting pickle jars counts).
6. Personal Hygiene. Some might title this "attractiveness" but in order to not sound more shallow than I already am, I'm focusing on hygiene instead. Partake in daily showering and grooming habits? +2 Too much perfume or makeup? -2
7.Health. You gotta live long enough to realize your MP (aka don't keel over from eating too many McCardboard burgers). Committed to keeping fit? +1
8. Español. Since our nation is fast becoming an amalgam of Hispanics and "Americans," knowing another language is helpful and also comes in handy if you plan on moving to a hut in the middle of Central America. +1 if you like to speak other languages. -1 if your friends groan because you insist on talking to them as if they understood every language you do.
9.Puppies and/or borrowed babies. Since some of my friends seems to think that having these items while out in public enhances your MP, add 2 if you utilize these items to attract others.
10. Age. I suppose I haven't quite reached old-fogeydom yet. Not an old fogey? +3

Simple enough, eh? Not quite. Confounding factors of place and date of birth, genetic anomalies, pronuncionation of the plural form of "you," if you're featured on Mer's "e-harmony" blog, and whether or not the dog you owned when you were 5 liked tomato soup must all be taken into consideration. This leads me to have a score of -2. Bring on the fluffy white cats and hardwood floors! ;o)

What's Your MP?


Disclaimer: The author takes no responsibility for the writings of this blog or anything taken seriously from it. She attributes all thoughts and poor attempts at humor to too much caffeine, endorphins, and "Frank" No white cats were mistreated in the writing of this blog.

A Tribute to Tim

It's hard to believe it's been five years, but now you're immortalized in stone with all the other heroic Aggies on the stack that night. Thanks for the wonderful memories from GSS and for teaching me that it's not the petty things in life that matter but how your life affects others.

(In memory of Tim Kerlee, Jr.)

http://www.utexas.edu/spotlight/2004/bonfire_memorial041118.html

The Devaluation of American Society...

...or why we need antique shops.

Once a month after spending a Thursday afternoon in Rogersville, my classmate Elizabeth and I volunteer at a free Christian clinic in Church Hill, Tennessee. Since our day in Rogersville ends around 4pm and the clinic doesn't open until 6pm, we have ample time to do things besides study. It just so happen that there is a large antique store next to the clinic and a bakery and deli across the parking lot. Now most of you might consider an antique store a "Junk Shop." I on the other hand find these as a great reflection of our society, a one-stop shopping place of American history you might say, and are a great necessity to our society.
Outside this particular shop are a variety of farm implements Inside one can find anything from 1963 issues of Life magazine and National Geographic to Victorian-era furniture and Art Deco spring-necked cat statues. The one thing you won't find, however, is a plethera of items from the last 20 years (except maybe an occasional lime green-headed Troll doll or a dust-covered Beanie Baby). Of course, you say, it's only been twenty years and these things aren't antiques. I'm convinced, rather, that you won't find these items because nothing in our society is meant to last anymore. You see, what makes an antique an antique is the value it holds, the feeling of nostalgia it brings to the owner, and the permanence of a memory from the past it renders.
Unfortunately, for the past twenty years or so, our society has been sliding down a slippery slope of depreciation of anything lasting. We have in effect become a disposable people. If you look in the antique shop, all the dishes were made of high quality china or other unbreakable materials. Even the lunchboxes were made of sturdy aluminum or tin. Today's equivalents? Paper plates and plastic bags. I don't think you'll find those in an antique shop anytime soon. We have become a society of "Cheap and Easy" of the "Here and Now." We buy the latest fad only to throw it away. We no longer need the "company china" because we no longer have time to prepare a meal and have company. We buy the latest fashion in bulk only to toss it to Goodwill at the next season of clothing. Working the good earth and eating its harvest has been replaced by a greasy bag of McCardboard Fries. Even our very substance, the relationships we share, are disposable. A ring symbolizes forever as much as that hula-girl themed bamboo screen hanging in booth #29 symbolizes beauty. If something doesn't suit our whims we toss it, sell it, move it, or replace it. Nothing is rare, special, or valued for we live in a society of the mass-marketed, over-produced, and plastered-on-the wall-everywhere advertisements. Our society is such a rat race of over-scheduled lives that we don't even have the time to contemplate the demise and devaluation of our society.
The next time you drive by an antique shop, before you write it off as a house of junk, remember all the nostalgia it holds and remember how it symbolizes an era when people actually had time to appreciate the beauty of a potter's craft, a well-made childhood toy, a Sunday afternoon dinner with friends, or the simple enjoyment of life itself. For now, will have to content ourselves with the cast-aways hidden among the thousands of antique shops across America.
Excuse me, I think it's time to go buy that hand-made quilt from booth #17 and the gaudy 60's vintage bright orange pyrex pitcher. Happy Antique Hunting!

All I Ever Need to Know...

...is that I'll never know everything.
It's been 3 1/2 months since I started school here at Quillen and what a 3 1/2 months it's been! Med school has taught me a lot of things. I've learned:

I'm not going to fail out of med school (at least not yet), and I'm never going to know everything about medicine. It's a continual process of learning.

Once you move away, the places and people you left will never be the same. Each new direction of our life gives us a new perspective on the paths we've already traveled.

Time is a precious commodity and the lack of it gives us a new appreciation for the mundane: a tree clothed in autumn color, the sun rise, a quick phone call from friends and family.

The complexity and beauty that exists within each one of us and how masterfully designed our bodies are.

That each of us possesses our own anomalies and genetic defects. It's what we do with them and how we view others with this realization that makes a difference.

There are a lot of bad physicians out there and there also some very compassionate and caring ones who realize the power of the white coat is the power to change a life.

That at those times in our lifes when we ask God for strength is when he burdens us so that we must come to our knees and acknowledge that He is our only source of strength.

Just like I'll never practice medicine perfectly, I will never be a perfect Christian. Just like I have physical defects, I have spiritual ones as well. I'm just thankful that the One who is Perfect has grace that will cover and heal both.

Health is a multi-faceted entity that is a conglomeration of physical, spiritual, and emotional components and often it is more within the power of the person than the physician to achieve a balance between the three.

Discpline is not something gained; rather, it is earned through experience and effort.

And finally....

I've learned that it's better to take the aluminum cap off the container of soup BEFORE putting it in the microwave. :o)

Flashback!!

"Los Guatemaltecos"


So I was listening to the local Sunday night Latin hour on the radio when "El Za Za Za" came on the radio. Those of you MET people know this brings back many fond memories of rides on the big white van and all those fun memories we made spending time as Gringos in Guate.
Anyways, I don't really have anything to say this week nor time to say anything. Just thought I'd write about what "El Za Za Za" means to me and post a nostalgic picture. Which reminds me that it's only six more months til I can head south again.

So...this is your blog. Leave an opinion about whatever strikes your fancy, the immigration of Latin Americans to this country, what you think about people like me who want to go live in a 3rd world country and listen to crazy Latin music, doctors, medical students, whatever. It's your blog and your chance to post (even if you never have). Either sign in with your name or post anonymously. Otherwise, this blog is going to get pretty lonely.

Hasta luego chavos y chavas!

Finding Fun on a Friday Night

So I was going to post this earlier this week, but with all the studying for my Ab/Pelvis test and my inherent laziness this past weekend, it's being posted today. Friday's fun-finding adventure all started when I decided to open up the local paper in my attempts to put off studying. In it there was an ad for "Festival of Seasons" a local Christmas craft fair/fundraiser for Milligan College. I know, you're thinking, "ooh a craft fair" but you have to understand that this was not just any craft fair. Not only were there going to be all kinds of useless baubles and trinkets and other things to satiate our materialistic society, on Friday night there was to be live jazz music and free coffee and desserts.
Convinced that this was better than doing the usual Friday-night study routine, I recruited two of my classmates, Hannah and Kyoo (pronounced Kee-O), to come with me. Armed with our $5 admission fee and loan money in pocket, the three of us not-dressed-in-scrubs dazzling divas set off on a shopping adventure. We should have known things would get interesting when the lady at the door turned out to be one of our standardized patients. Trying to refrain from asking her questions such as, "So how does that make you feel?" and from listening to her lungs we just paid our admission fee and received our tickets. She kindly directed us upstairs where room upon room of creative flair awaited our book-sore eyes. We immediately realized that the upscale prices of this craft fair were not in line with our poor med student budget. So we contented ourselves to "oohing" and "aahhing" over the ret patent purses, flamboyant jewelry and sampling the delectable culinary masterpieces that graced the Christmas gift baskets for a low $29.99. Kyoo and I even ran into some of the distinguished members of the "Red-Hat" club. I'm determined to join this club when I get older (thanks, Lindsey for your inspiration that day in Charleston). Basically, it allows an older female to wear outrageous jewelry, big gaudy hats, and act in an ecentric manner. I hope you don't have to be married to join or else my idea of the accompanying fluffy white cat and hardwood floor apartment won't fit the picture.
Shopping sprees always lead to hungry bellies as well as hungry wallets, so we went for coffee and desserts. I must say the selection was quite interesting. Hannah went for the "Blueberry Crisp" coffee while I opted for the "Butterfinger Delight" flavor (whatever happened to just plain caf and decaf?). Needless to say, Butterfingers and blueberries are meant for desserts and should not be mixed with hot beverages. Even so, we still had an enjoyable time listening to the jazz trio as Kyoo and I remenisced about the days when we had the time to participate in such ensembles. Our wallets almost stayed full until our dollar bills made a break for it when we hit the pottery room. You see, I have a fondness for homemade crafty things, a fondness usually supressed by my more rational mind telling me that it's just another knick-knack to sit on my shelf. However, when this crafty, homemade thing is not only crafty but functional, it's hard to say no to my escape-happy money. To make a long story short, three pieces of pottery went home with the three med school divas.
While I was trying to make up my indecisive mind as to which piece of pottery should grace my cabinet shelf, our comrade and uniquely dressed friend Daniel called us to see if we wanted to go to a downtown art exhibit. Unaware that Johnson City was even hip enough to have something like an art exhibit, much less a showing on a Friday night, I was eager to see what was in store. We arrived to a collection of galleries housing local artists' (ie mostly ETSU students) latest works. I must say I'm no art critic but some of the stuff on the wall was not exactly what I would call art. Example: A 4x6 picture hung in a creative matte that amounted to a picture of a gravel mud puddle outside a roadside flea market. Price? $79.00 Even better, two galleries down the street I found almost the same picture but this time for the bargain of $49 (must be some kind of mud-puddle picture trend). I would like to find out if the pictures ever sold. If so, I'm putting my entire collection of random pictures in interesting mattes and financing my med. school education selling "art." The other curious thing was that seemingly every artist was dressed in black, black shoes, black shirt, black-dyed hair. One would assume that such creative people would use that same creativity in their attire. I suppose all their inspiration is consumed in contriving new ideas for art such as taking pictures of grey mud puddles.
Overall, I have to say I was impressed that this little conservative Northeast Tennessee town could contain so much culture on a Friday night. Too bad the Anatomy Lab can't be as exciting. Maybe Kyoo, Hannah and I should have bought some of those pieces of "art."

A Vision Renewed

My nene: Jose


It is at those times in our life when the light begins to fade and our vision dims that God sends a glimmer of light, a star to light our way, in the form of individuals whose integrity and resolute determination to achieve that task which has been given them inspires all. Such was the case for me today in the form of Dr.Towlan at the CMDA’s monthly luncheon at Quillen. Once a medical student, he went into medical school with the desire to serve in Africa. Almost a quarter of a century later, he stood in front of me and my colleagues recounting 15 years of memories and a richly-lived life of service as a medical missionary.
What a travesty it is that the majority of our population will never experience such a life. Barraged by thousands of images each day promoting our American deities of “Affluence” and “Academia,” many attempt to satiate the God-shaped chasm in their lives by paying homage to these through materialism and knowledge. What the dollar can’t satisfy, we satisfy by our pride in the number of degrees we hold or the knowledge that at least we know more about Michigan water snakes’ kinesiology than our neighbor; therefore, giving our lives meaning and an immortal quality through our contribution to some soon-to-be-outdated textbook. How sad, too, that some robe themselves with the title of “Christian,” living in a squalor of ignorant piety and spending time debating moot issues of doctrine and forgetting to ascribe to the actual meaning of the Bible such as loving the homeless strung-out guy that sits on the marble church steps every morning or showing compassion to the elderly babushka on the cold streets of Russia.
As Dr.Towlan recounted story after story of the relationships he had formed through his medical service, my mind wandered from the cold, blanched classroom to the warm, verdant scenes of Guatemala and Honduras and to all the memories inscribed on my heart such as the one above, a 5 year old who shared a home and his life with me this past summer in Guatemala. Cognizant of the realization that I could pursue a career here in the States for six digit + income, Dr.Towlan’s talk reminded me of my real purpose here, to serve my fellow man and to impart on him the hope which has bestowed on me a life richly blessed in memories, relationships, and glimpses of true humanity which many will never open their eyes to see.
While some of my colleagues may attempt to shovel the material of their titles and salaries into that God-shaped chasm, I will fill mine with the perfect shaped God and rejoice in the delight He gives me through compassion-shaped windows that display all of His wonderfully made creations, my patients and fellow man. So I may never have a hospital ward and a staff to wait on me hand and foot nor the salary to buy that cozy little hut in Maui, but I will have a lifetime full of priceless memories and experience and a wealth of knowledge and contentment in knowing that my life was lived with purpose.

"I Wanna Dance with Somebody"

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!!!

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!

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?

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.

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.

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!

Small Town Doc

Nothing like traveling to a small town in Tennessee complete with, blue flame-painted Jettas, guys celebrating their girl's birthday at Wendys, and signs advertising a "Hog Trade" every third week. As you can tell, it was Rural Track day. Today we were each assigned a different doctor to shadow for the morning. Though I've only been in med school for two months, I'm amazed at the amount of knowledge I've already accumulated. Two months ago, I wouldn't have noticed much about my preceptor's practice of medicine, but today I found myself critiquing his interaction with the patients, his manner of using the diagnostic equipment, and his thoroughness of exam. Medicine is an art, each doctor finding his own way to prepare the impromptu script thrown at him with every entrance into the exam room. It was a good way to reemphasize my reason for being here. Our first patient had Bell's Palsy (a defect of one of the cranial nerves). It made me realize that all my studying of Anatomy isn't in vain, and that it will be of use to me. Though not an incredibly small town, Rogersville is small enough where the doc knows Jane's dad who's the head of the Lions club and also treats her son who's going to the local community college. You could say the family doc is almost like the local gossip or Dear Abby, knowing almost everything about everyone in the town.
Still lacking in hours for the service learning component of my Psychology class, I stopped by the Church Hill clinic again to volunteer my services as a translator. Though we didn't have as many patients, it was still a rewarding experience as I conversed with some of the local Mexicans and met some people devoted to the cause of healing not only the physical but the spiritual as well.
Well, I should probably get some sleep. Like today, tomorrow promises to be another long day as I head to Knoxville for the weekend. It will be good to see everyone again and live "normally" for a weekend..well...maybe with a little studying.

An Epiphany

"C'mon Michele, you can do it," I kept telling myself. I was almost up the hill and my heart was pounding, body warm and sweat pouring; a contrast to the cool, crisp Autumn air around me and the breeze blowing past. "Alright! Sit it back down and take the resistance down to about a level 5" Sigh...I snapped back to reality to realize I was not hiking up some steep hill in the Smokies; rather, my feet were strapped to the pedals of a spinning bike and I was staring out the window onto a gloomy Johnson City day. I'm not a huge fan of cold weather (I'm glad God hasn't called me to be a missionary in Alaska), but I have to admit, the new coolness that pervades the mornings is somewhat refreshing. It brings back many fond memories of bonfires, hayrides, crackling leaves, smells of apple cider and all the other wonderful warm and cozy things of Fall. Maybe I'll get to enjoy some of those things this semester.
Overall, it's been a good day. I had an epiphany about my study habits in relation to Anatomy. I think I've finally pulled myself out of the undergrad mentality of "I don't want to learn this because I'm never going to use this information again so I'm just going to cram enough of it in my brain to do well on the test". So if I can just convince myself to succumb to nerdiness and think studying is the most fun thing in the world, then I think I'll do alright. We celebrated my friend Loan's birthday last night and it almost felt like a normal night of sitting around eating dinner with friends and watching TV until someone flipped it to some Medical/Health channel and we all started "ooing" and "aahhing" over the cool surgeries the docs were performing. Gotta love going to school with a bunch of medical school nerds :o).
Speaking of...it's time to hit the books again with my new improved study techniques. All play and no study means Michele can't go to Knoxville this weekend to hang out with friends and family.

The Macedonian Call

Wow! What a refreshing weekend it's been! I didn't realize how much I needed a redirection of my focus until Saturday. The seminar was a time of inspiration and encouragement as I listened to story after story of how God had called people with all types of talents and backgrounds to serve Him and how He had worked through their lives to impact the lives of so many others. It was great to meet Dr.Farrar and his wife and to hear their countless stories about living in Nigeria. They are definitely a source of inspiration, having kept their eyes on God and their hands serving Him for 50 years together, over 30 of that in medical missions. I can only hope that God will allow me to serve like them (though it looks like it may be solo, but I've got way to much else on my plate to worry about such things) and for as long.
Needless to say, though I've spent all day today studying HDBG, my mind has been thousands of miles away in lands where people haven't heard the gospel and the message of hope that it brings and where people are dying for a lack of basic health care. The Spirit touched me at the seminar yesterday, and I'll be praying to see where I'm led for more preparation next summer. Though I could hop on a plane tomorrow without a qualm, I understand how much more effective I can be in my service in a few years. If Christ took 30 years in preparation for His ministry, surely 26-29 years can't be too bad. In the meantime, like Isaiah in Isaiah 6, Here Am I, if I can't go right now, at least I can prepare myself between now and then and try to share the gospel here (after all there are more Christians in Africa now than the US).
It's getting late so I'd better wrap up my studying and pray that God blesses me with a clear mind tomorrow during my test!

Mr.Gorlin, Would You Like GASELA with That?

Girls' Night: Me, Aleisha, Nicoll, Mer, Anacharlene




There's nothing more that will get your adrenaline going than hanging 20-30ft in the air by your fingers and toes on little molded pieces of fiberglass, relying on a few pieces of webbing and rope and the goodwill of your belayer. Hannah and I decided to go relieve a little post-test stress Tuesday afternoon by rockclimbing at the gym. It was a stress-relieving and humbling experience as I realized how pitiful my forearm strength is. Oh well...at least it gave the testosterone-ladened belayers a good laugh after we left I'm sure.
I think I'm going to survive med. school on silly little acronyms, pneumonics, and goofy little drawings (hence the oddly titled post). Then when I get out of med school, I'm going to publish a book with all my silly little study aids and use the proceeds to pay off my loans (hey, I'd buy a copy). Yeah, that's about the only hope I have of cramming over a semester's worth of material into my head for this Monday's test.
Other than having a mountain of studying to do and no time to do it, things are going well. My cousin is coming in tomorrow with Dr.Farrar and the Medical Missions Seminar is this weekend. Though I'll probably have to study through half of it, I'm excited. I've actually been given the privilege of speaking on behalf of Health Talents International about the MET program. It's my hope that others will be motivated to try it out and that it will lead them to want to do mission work. The seminar itself will be a nice refresher for me and a reminder of exactly why I'm here torturing myself with long nights of studying embryology, anatomy, genetics, everything else you could possibly cram into 27 hours of classes, etc..
Well, I'd better go remove my Anatomy study aids and books from the living room so my cousin doesn't freak out tomorrow when he comes. TTFN!

Stepping up on the Soap Box: Some Reflections

If variety is the spice of life, then I have to say that mine has been at least at a jalapeño level the past few years with all the little winding paths God has taken me. The Lopez family sent me an email today, wondering if I was ok and whether or not I had been near the hurricane and letting me know I was still in their thoughts and prayers and that their two children still asked about me. Though I only knew them for two months last summer and a few weeks this summer, they are like my second family. It's amazing how such a bond could be formed that a couple from another culture would still be emailing me over a year later to see if I had fared the bad weather. I think that's one of the things I enjoy most about serving our Lord, the richness of life He has blessed me with. I love the fact that God gives us a Christian family and blesses us with relationships that run just as deep, if not deeper, than our blood roots.
I think often times we forget this and instead identify ourselves by X label on the door of our church. I wish people would just know me by "Christian" instead of "that girl that goes to the church that doesn't have instruments," and I wish others and people at church wouldn't identify the church by such a trivial detail such as a stringed piece of wood or a lack thereof. Instead, I wish people would comment about a church full of believers, worshipping like those in Acts 2, not with some flashy, feel-good services but rather as a family who supports one another, relying solely on God's Word, and where each member uses their God-given talents to the benefit of others. I think sometimes we forget this familial aspect when trying to be a Christian and think that it's just about doing our good deed. Yet, if we don't build relationships while "doing good deeds" and enjoy the blessing that God gives us of these relationships, what are our good deeds except un-paid labor and what puts "spice" in our lives?
Ok...I realize I've just written a sermon so I'll step down from the pulpit now.
I suppose an update needs to be given on the situation this past weekend in Pigeon Forge. Well, I didn't know the girl from Honduras but we did have people in common. About my age, she taught me an important lesson. Before worship began, she asked the preacher to pray for her because she felt badly about some things that had happened the week before, and she didn't want to take the Lord's Supper with that guilt on her shoulders. It made me stop and think about how often I take the Lord's Supper for granted and how much do I seriously examine myself and my thoughts before taking it.
Well, it's sunny outside, class is done for the week (though not my studying), and it's Friday afternoon which means it's time for Ultimate Frisbee. Cheers to all of you who've added "spice" to my life!

Viva Knoxvegas

Boomsday on the River


Nothing like spending a weekend in Knoxvegas. How can one describe it? The smell of combustion as the city spends lots of well-earned tax dollars to entertain its citizens with an impressive display of fireworks. But that's ok because the strong smell of alcohol everywhere is probably what brought in the tax dollars in the first place. I mean what's a UT football game weekend without thousands of good ol' Tennesseeans supporting their state with a little Jack Daniels and seeing who can get drunk the earliest? (the city is highly in favor of this since they just lowered the legal time to sell alcohol on Sundays from noon to 10am in honor of this weekend's game). And who can forget the sight as the whole town paints itself orange and white..everything from cars to window displays to that funny looking rubber mask the guy sitting two rows away from me was wearing. Except there was this one lady who thought it'd be cool to where light green pants instead of orange. Now maybe if she were a guy and colorblind I might could forgive here but come on....you just CAN'T where anything but orange or white on gameday. I mean its just blashphemy to not where the most hideous color on earth even if you are sitting up in the double letters like I was, closer to Mt.Leconte than Shield-Watkins Field (though I'm very grateful for being given those tickets). Why pay half of your paycheck to the VASF for season tickets and then NOT wear orange? I never thought I'd say I missed hearing Rocky Top but it was somewhat of a welcome sound to my ears...even after I'd heard it for like the 40th time. And since we beat UNLV, I didn't mind it too much when the whole crowd decided to yell "cow-poopie" on the crazy blind refs. You gotta love the enthusiam of the TN culture. We love our sports and ain't nobody gonna make a bad call on our boys out there on da field. Between some hardcore ice cream eating at girls' night (you can't have a girls' night without a gallon of MooseTracks and spoons for all) and all the munchies and cookouts at the CSC, I think my belly has extended to the size of the GoodYear blimp.
Yep...definitely a great weekend of fun, friends, and fellowship. Time to get back to the books and being a "serious" student.

"Rocky Top you'll always be home sweet home to me. Good Ole Rocky Top. Rocky Top Tennessee!"

God's Little Surprises

I love it how God puts little pieces and fibers from different people's lives together to form a thread of opportunity. My phone doesn't get reception inside of Stanton-Gerber and I was literally about 10 feet from the door when it rang. No one ever calls me so I was kinda excited and wondering who in the world would be calling me at 10am. To make a long story short, it was the preacher from the Pigeon Forge Church of Christ telling me that there was a lady who just moved there from Honduras and who doesn't speak English. He was looking for a translator and it just so happens that I'm headed to that part of TN this weekend and just so happens that I've been to Honduras and there's a 90% chance that either I've been to the church she's from or I know someone that goes there. So...I'll be going there Sunday morning to translate the service and Bible study class for her. So it'd be more fun to go to church at Laurel and eat potluck lunch afterwards, but you can't turn down an opportunity that God has placed in front of you like that. That's what I think alot of Christians miss out on. We wonder why God isn't working in big ways in our lives, but we fail to acknowledge and act upon all the little opportunities he places before us.
On the bright side, I did pass my Anatomy test and can now focus on learning about the Head and Neck which starts tomorrow. It's going to be really weird in lab. Before, I've been able to distance myself somewhat and tell myself it's not really a person. I think it's going to be pretty hard to do that tomorrow when "He" is staring me in the face, that intricate God-created being.

So the thought for the day? Look for those little "random" moments God places before you, those times when the Spirit moves within you, urging you to step out on that limb and do something you think might be illogical, irrational, but something totally satisfying for you know that it's God's Will. That's what life is all about: savoring those God-given opportunites to serve Him according to His purpose.

Street Musician Seeks Work

Ever feel like you've studied and studied for something and when you take the test you could have done just as well going in there blind knowing nothing about the subject? Yeah...the past four hours of my life were just spent like that. So be looking for me playing on your local street corner soon because I think I just failed my thorax exam. Oh well, how was I supposed to know the relationship of the azygos vein to the greater splanchnic nerve at TV 9 or what that tiny nerve fiber pinned in a mass of something innervates? I just hope the powers that be are gracious in grading our tests this afternoon.

Yeah, it hasn't been too great of a week so far. The problem when you move somewhere new is that you have to leave the old behind. I really miss my friends and church families back in ktwown and home. I just haven't found the same up here. I went to the JC version of the CSC last night for a devo. I don't know if it was just the attitude of the group at that moment or what but the atmosphere just seemed immature and spiritually unfocused instead of the encouragement and strengthening I was hoping I'd find. On the other hand, one of the guys in my study group showed me a really encouraging verse last night on our study break. I like the Message's version of it (from Psalm 94): "When I was upset and beside myself, you calmed me down and cheered me up....God became my hideout, God was my high mountain retreat."
I can't wait til this weekend, FREE of studying, filled with spending time with old friends and hopefully a little Big Orange football (once a Vol always a Vol). Knoxvegas here I come!

Well, I'd better get back to class. It's definitely going to be a windows rolled down listening to 80's mix CD, burning off some post test stress in spinning class, venting with the girls kinda day.

Health Freaks and Geeks

Thank goodness the gym finally opened up this week!!! It's been nice to start back into a regular exercise routine. I think half of the med. school was there when it opened on Monday (as if we don't see each other enough already). There are benefits to going to school with other people interested in health and in healing people. For the most part they all eat pretty healthy which I'm hoping will rub off on me and curb me of some bad eating habits I picked up in college and help me take off my freshman...err...college 15. I think Johnson City as a whole has got to be the most exercise crazy town I've ever lived in. People are always running around the campus and at the VA park and bike racks seem to abound.
I felt like I was in Central America last night. To put in some more service hours for my psych class I volunteered at a Christian-based free health care clinic near Kingsport, translating and shadowing the doctor. Half of our clientele were Hispanic and I had the cutest little 4yr old girl and her mother and siblings for patients. I felt like I was back at Clinic Amicus running a typical day with one of the brigade docs and letting my patients know that God loves them. I'm so glad I have the blessing and ability to be able to serve in that way, though I think I benefitted from the experience more than my clients did.
Well, I should probably appreciating this time and be sleeping instead of typing to myself. Buenas noches!!!

Random Post Test Thoughts

I made it through my second test-ok my first HDBG test which stands for an conglomeration of random facts, pathways, and embryology all crammed into one course whose notes already fill a 1.5" binder.
This has definitely been a week of answered prayers (I know it's only Monday). It started last night with a trip to the migrant workers' camp where they have a free bi-weekly clinic. It was refreshing to be immersed in the Latin culture again but strange to work in a non-Christian pro-bono clinic. I mean what's the point of preserving a body if you do nothing to help preserve the soul?
While some of my peers were out celebrating a night free of studying hanging out at the bar, I decided to go see what the med. students girls' Bible study was all about, another blessing. I think sometimes we don't realize how much we need daily spiritual strengthening. Ultimately that comes from constantly making an effort to be in God's presence but at the same time, our brothers and sisters in Christ are there to edify and encourage us. What a wonderful feeling it was to sit and pray with my sisters in Christ. I am learning that calling yourself Christian isn't so much about religion, a Sunday social club ritual that gives you another label to wear. Rather, it is about a constant walk in God's footsteps along the path He has laid out for you, realizing that He is the one that directs your steps to the ultimate destination and realizing that it is a matter of blinidly trusting Him in all situations to continue to lead you.

The Heart of the Matter

Sunday Afternoon Drive

So I got to play doctor today right? Actually, it's called Intro to Phys Exam which is a really cool class that utilizes standardized patients to help teach us neophytes the proper way to conduct a physical exam. Today was chest and lung exam day which meant that a local cardiothoracic surgeon (how's that for a cool title?) was present to help us with any questions we might have and explain proper technique, etc. He also was present in lab; it was "dissect the heart" day. Anatomy lab has to be one of the weirdest and most intriguing experiences I've had in my academic career. I mean...if anyone else was doing what we are doing, they'd call them crazy and lock them away. It's almost inevitable that I have to distance myself from my cadaver and try to think of only the academics of what I'm doing; yet at the same time, I don't want to completely forget that he was once a person like me who had feelings, thoughts, emotions, and a family. I suppose that's the dichotomous nature of medicine and the conundrum of physicians worldwide. How do you keep the humanity of your patient in mind without letting that same humanity cloud the academic components of anatomy, pathology, etc. that are essential in the patient's treatment?
Things are starting to settle into place in most areas of my life though I'm still often plagued with the feeling that I've stuck my head in a shirt and am searching for the sleeve holes. Oh well, I'll eventually find my niche. Life's a journey so I guess part of that journey is finding out where is lost and where is where you're supposed to be.
An answered prayer is this coming Sunday's migrant worker clinic at a nearby farm that employs about 250 immigrant workers. I can't wait to get back to serving and to the Latin culture. Life without some regular component of service makes me feel like some type of "social club Sunday potluck dinner" kind of Christian. I'll be helping out translating and maybe helping with some health survey work or presenting health-related skits to those of the community. It'll be like MET, except I'm in rural East Tennessee. I think I'm also going to assist the new Medical Spanish class elective they're having at QCOM Friday afternoons. I'd love it if my peers could learn Spanish too. It's such a needed skill here and seemingly everywhere in the States. Whoever thought I'd get to use my Spanish here?
The last few weeks have been some of the most academically, mentally, and spiritually challenging for me that I've experienced so far in my life. Worth it? Oh yeah. I love it here.

Wondering what that lovely mountain landscape is? It's called part of the AT near Roan Mountain. There are benefits to living 1/2 hour from the Appalachian Mountains, and yes med. students do have time to get out and have fun every once in a while :o)

A is for Anatomy

My version of playing Ultimate Frisbee with all the other MSs (UF Pros): Run alot, act like you know what you're doing, and pray that no one actually throws you the frisbee.
I can't believe I just finished my second week of med school. It flew by and was a lot better than last week. We all got the "big test" over with in Anatomy on Wednesday and everything went really well for me. Too bad it only counts 5% of the total grade. I'm really enjoying that class, even lab. Yeah, I know I'm a nerd. I think I'm more worried about BioStats than anything right now. Did I ever mention how much I don't like math? I just keep telling myself, "three more weeks of it and then I get to do cool stuff in Rogersville with Rural Track."
I think my apartment is going to smell like garlic bread sticks for awhile. While studying Monday night, some of us were complaining about how we don't like to eat by ourselves. The result of that conversation led to a wonderful concoction of baked ziti, bread sticks, glazed carrots, and peach cobbler at my apartment last night. We didn't get as much studying done as we had hoped, but we ate well. Plus, I got to show off my humble abode, very impressive. Actually, with all the interest group meetings, I think I can manage to cut my food budget in half; that or I'm going to have to start working out twice as much.
I really like my class and we're all starting to click now that we realize that we're not going to fail out of med. school and that we can do the work. The one thing I do miss is all my Christian friends. I guess I've been spoiled the past few years with always being surrounded by good Christian examples. Though I've made friends at church here, they don't go to class with me everyday. I guess this will be a test of faith over the next few years since many opportunities to compromise my values and to let my faith become stagnant exist.
Looks like tomorrow will be filled with studying and conquering HDBG. Sunday I'm taking a break after church and going hiking somewhere (yeah I've already convinced a few of the M1s to come with me on my random adventures in the woods). I think the Olympics are on now. Maybe I can watch them, assuming they're on one of the four channels I have (why get cable when I'm never home to watch it?). Ahh. the life of a med. student; I'm looking foward to sleep tonight and no 8am classes tomorrow.

As I sat on the dock of Dr.Shambra's dock, my belly full with homemade burgers and fresh veggies from the garden, watching the sun go down as the sound of a poor imitation of Jimmy Buffet eminated from the local marina pub, I finally felt relaxed for the first time last week. Yes, it was definitely a week of change; I've learned that change always brings growing pains. Saturday, after spending the morning studying, I took a much needed break and strolled around the grounds of the spacious VA park located in front of the COM. The VA used to be a place for the "old soldiers to come and die". Funny how now people such as myself are learning how to make others live. Yet as I study, I realize that in four years I will still be just as helpless when it comes to curing mankind as I am now. I will still be limited by the same imperfections of humanity of those who I am supposed to cure.
It's a futile practice really, the imperfect trying to perfect the imperfect, a real "blind leading the blind" so to speak, but like Christianity that doesn't mean I should give up in pursuit of perfection. Rather, like being a Christian, I should try toward that perfection but realize that it is only God that can ultimately grant that perfection, that "cure". The more I study the human body, the more I admire the perfectly designed complexity, the fine engineering as each part works together with the conjunction of thousands of other parts in perfect union to operate what we call person. I don't understand how anyone could look upon such fine craftmanship and order and say this stemmed from chaos.
The M2s gave us a "practice" practical part of the exam tonight. Let me just say that just as none of us are equal on the outside, neither are none of us equal on the inside. It wasn't bad, and I think I'm well-prepared for any innervations, insertions, motions, etc. that may appear on the test. As each day passes, I get to know my peers better and enjoy this thing they call "med. school" I realize that some of them will never see past the dollar and job of medicine. For the rest, I hope to share with them all that I have been shown through my experiences, the art, beauty, and joy of serving our fellow man.
I leave you with the lyrics to Chris Rice's latest song which I had the privilege to hear for the first time the other day. It has to be one of the best pieces of advice I could give someone:

Carry your candle run to the darkness

Seek out the helpless confused and torn

Hold out your candle for all to see it

Take your candle and go light your world

What It's Really Like

My Home : Stanton Gerber Hall

Well, I can say almost made it through my first week of medical school. No one said med school is easy; they're right. This has to have been one of the longest weeks of my life. Was it really just four days ago that I knew absolutely nothing about the back or cadavers or what it's really like to "go to med school"?
I've studied more this past week then I ever did last semester. My typical day starts around 6:30 in order to be prepared and in my seat at 8am for class. Then it's lunchtime around noon and more class until 3 or 4pm. If I'm lucky I can go home then and spend a few hours eating dinner and working out unless my group and I didn't finish our dissection and have to go back to the lab. Then it's back to the books for a few more hours before I finally call it a night only to get up and do it again.
Someone once told me that part of learning medicine is like learning a language. I think they're right. I mean how often do you hear words like semispinalis capitus and conus medullaris and the dorsal scapular nerve innervates the levator spinae? Yeah, if I could just know what half of what I read meant, I think I'd be doing ok. Netter's atlas pages are permenantly etched on my mind (I hope at least until Wednesday). I think the two key words for me over the next two years are balance and discipline.
It's going to be hard work, but it's not all drudgery. Yesterday I had my first patient. Ok...so he was a standardized patient paid to let us practice vital signs on him, but he was still a patient. In my white coat and all dressed up th my new instruments in hand, I felt like a little girl playing doctor :o). Tomorrow night, my advisor is taking myself and her other advisees out to her house on the lake for dinner.
Tonight I took the time to attend CMDA's (Christian Medical and Dental Association) barbeque. It was nice to spend time with some of the older students and know that it's possible to make it through your first year, and that there are Christian doctors out there. I'm looking foward to a speaker they're having next month, the author of one of my favorite books, Jesus M.D. . I can already tell that it will be a constant struggle to not let the academic side of medicine overwhelm me so that it quenches my spiritual fervor and zeal that led me to this career in the first place. I ask for your prayers on this and for my first test coming up this Wednesday.
Well, I should probably go spend some time with old Mr.Netter. Sometimes I wonder if I can really do this or if I've gotten myself in over my head. Guess I'll find out next Wednesday. Until then...