Figures that it's Christmas Eve before I get half a second to myself on the computer. As it is I don't have a lot of time...we're going to a Christmas Eve service tonight, for the first time in I-don't-even-know-how-long. Usually we go over to my mother's best friend's house for dinner on this night, but she's in Texas visiting her son and daughter-in-law this holiday, so...church. The eternal backup plan. (No, I'm actually looking forward to it.)
Since exams ended on Thursday (and THOSE are now but a distant memory) I've been busy with lots of fun things. Julie and I were at a Sarah Slean concert on the 21st. Sarah is so lovely live -- she makes all kinds of weird, dreamy, funny comments and has a great rapport with the audience. And she played some new songs from her forthcoming album, which were gorgeous. I also saw Sweeney Todd, and was actually fairly impressed with Johnny Depp's singing voice. :D I thought it was a great time. A bloody, macabre, over-the-top, unsettling great time. I've also been catching up with friends from undergrad and high school, in addition to a trip to the theatre with my parents. All in all I don't think I've been home for more than a few hours (except to sleep).
In all of this I haven't had much time to get sad or depressed, even though I normally catch the holiday blues at this season. I'm cooking tomorrow, which should keep me busy...other than that, Christmas has snuck up on me, somehow, and I should be able to get through it without even realizing that it's really here. I'm not sure how appropriate that is as an approach to Christmas. But there you go.
In closing, I leave you with a taste of my mother's own particular brand of whimsical thought. I have Kyasuriin's and my betta fish, Spike, at home for the holidays. However, I forgot to bring home his food (even though feeding him is the entire reason I brought him home in the first place). Wen I told my mom this, the conversation went something like this: Mom: "Oh no! And all the stores are closed now! We'll have to go out FIRST THING tomorrow and buy more food." Me: "I'll be at the mall later anyway...I'll just pick it up then." Mom: "I know, but the poor thing will be hungry." Me: "All I'm saying is, he's been left over weekends plenty of times, and been fine." Mom: "Yes, Susan, but...it's Christmas, and he's a guest in our home!"
My mother, the very heart and soul of hospitality. Even to fish.
A merry Christmas and happy holidays to one and all!
-I must have been nuts, going to medical school. What was I thinking? I forgot one of my key cardinal flaws when I signed up: I'm the type of person who likes to be the smartest person around. Now I'm not even the smartest person in an empty classroom -- the extreme mental genius of other people in my class seems to remain after they've left, as a kind of psychic shadow.
-I'm a little too chill about how little I know about everything. I'm hoping that I'll be more motivated to learn things next year, when what I know or don't know actually has an impact on people. People other than me. I don't know why screwing MYSELF over isn't enough of an impetus to study.
-The computer room, where I've been spending most of my days lately, is a fun little mecca of studying and procrastination. People come and go, to and from food, the study room, the lounge, home, or other classrooms. The same faces tend to show up again and again. Right now, the popular procrastination tool is Facebook Scrabbulous games. I don't have this application as I don't trust these dodgy little Facebook accessories, but I know all about how it works. One of my classmates in particular tends to play it quite loudly, with the entire room, whether they want to participate or not: "Is GLIM a word? GLIM? Anyone? What do you think? Hm, I'll look it up in the dictionary. OH, it's NOT. That's too bad. Hm, how many points would it have gotten me? Oh, 15, that's not so great anyway. What else can I do...?"
Other things I've learned about and discussed while studying here in just the past day: the existence, organization, history, and ethical question of NAMBLA; Anne Geddes and the fact that her stuff is really kinda creepy; the 1993 Canadian federal election, particularly the infamous Conservative smear campaign focusing (allegedly) on Liberal leader Jean Chretien's facial nerve palsy; Wikipedia as the repository of all human knowledge; the fact that Rembrandt had stereo blindness. Ok, maybe not so much about genitourinary anatomy. But that's ok.
-I really want to make these cookies: Minty Chocolate Christmas Cookies. But I suspect that that's too much procrastination, even for me.
-I'm going to see Golden Compass tonight, so I'd better get back to studying.
-But not before I post this YouTube video, which is awesome:
Frankly, as far as I'm concerned, cardiology and new age healing are on about the same plane. A cardiologist saying to me "Listen! Just there, at the left sternal border! It's very subtle, but you can hear it. Just tune in...let it unfold to your ear...you'll hear it, it's there!" is about the same as a psychic saying "Ah, yes, I can see it clearly. Your aura is pulsing blue and gold. It's lovely. Just spend some more time getting in touch with your inner eye and you'll see it! It's there!" It's not that I necessarily doubt either practitioner. I just can't sense what they're sensing, and I'm pretty sure that I never will.
The thing is, as a med student, I'm supposed to think cardiology is the acme of cool, even if I don't plan to go into it. I'm supposed to swoon at the thought of hearing a mid-systolic click and go into raptures at the barest hint of an S3 sound. I have a hard time mustering the required enthusiasm, and I'm pretty sure my preceptors can tell. But I'd be lying if I said I could hear anything special with that expensive stethoscope toy of mine.
And either all my classmates have far more acumen than I do, or they're stretching the truth a little too....
Being paid money for something I've written* is the accomplishment of which I'm proudest, out of the past year and a half. Nothing I've done in medical school comes close.
I'm so lame. I sit around and I feel disillusioned with school. I make a big deal out of refusing to study and refusing to work because "none of it matters". But in favour of what? Nothing useful. If I'm proudest of becoming a paid writer this year, you'd think I'd spend more time BEING A WRITER.
But there's no point in dwelling. One can't really force these things. I, for one, find writing works best for me when I'm supposed to be doing something else. So, thank you impending exams: you've successfully ended the 4-and-a-half-month-long cold war between me and my blog.
~isolde
(*written thing can be found in the November 20th edition of The Medical Post, in the Spirit of Medicine section. The Medical Post is available online, but you have to sign up. To my knowledge, it doesn't cost anything to do this.)
Here you have the random thoughts of Isolde. Isolde is: -somewhat surprised at being a medical student -not going to let her right brain atrophy without a fight -living in an actual apartment for the first time -happily dating Answerboy -prone to ramble -a reader and a would-be writer -completely nonsensical sometimes -very glad you're here
