A Cookie Story

I wanted to make Christmas cookies.  Emily wanted to help decorate.  Surprisingly, so did Nic and Ferdinand.  It quickly went from normal to...pick an adjective.  Not your typical Christmas cookies.  And not entirely politically correct.

I started out making nice, normal-looking snowmen.

 I even tried to accommodate some of my many Jewish friends at Einstein (many of them laughed when they saw these).

Emily went for some more...unconventional colors.

Then Ferdinand came and made caricatures of some of our friends...including Emily (far left) and himself (far right).

 There weren't that many undecorated cookies left.

 Seconds after I warned Nic that they'd soon be all done, he knocked on the door.  And he made a nerdy supernova star (which I appreciated).

Then things got much more, um, creative.  The following scenes are meant to be stories.

 A hungry (not evil, claims Nic) lumberjack successfully hunts a moose in the enchanted Christmas forest.

 Next, we jump to the Bronx, where a shooting has occurred by a man in a trench coat on Pelham Parkway.

Quick, call 911!  Otherwise he'll bleed to death! 

 A first-year medical student, feeling cool but completely useless in his white coat, looks on apprehensively as the attending physician quickly listens for a heartbeat.  The villain runs to the cover of Pelham Bay Park, hoping to evade the authorities.

The Bronx police are seasoned veterans, and the criminal has no chance.  Justice is served.

...and the rest will just have to be eaten.

Ireland Broke My Rib

In Ireland, I happened to pick up a bug and come down with a cold.  It was like a typical cold -- fatigue, sore throat, headache, enlarged anterior cervical nodes, runny nose -- except that the cough was worse than normal.  It wasn't a mild-and-will-go-away-in-a-week cough.  It wasn't an annoying-itch-in-your-throat cough.  It was a drowning-in-your-own-secretions cough.  (Gross, I know.  Sorry.)  If I didn't sleep sitting up, I would soon be practically falling out of the bed, curled unintentionally into a coughing fit of a ball because my abdominals were tightened to the point that my chest was nearly touching my stomach.  I've never had this bad of a cough in my life, not even when I had whooping cough.

I felt bad for the guy that had to sit next to me on the plane.  If I could make it 5 minutes without coughing, I considered it a miracle.  I sucked my way through an entire bag of Jakemans Throat and Chest "Soothing Menthol Sweets" (the British version of cough drops, unfortunately with quite a strong anise flavor) in less than a day.  When I got back to the Bronx, I finished off my bag of Robitussin cough drops, then stole some of my roommate's Ricola drops until I could make it to the store to get my own.  I tried NyQuil and DayQuil, to no avail.

Almost a week after getting sick, my right lower ribs began hurting when I coughed.  Sore, annoying, but livable.  Two days later, as I was studying in Manhattan (still coughing), it suddenly got worse.  Much worse.  I coughed, and it felt as if something had popped; my ribs gave me excruciating pain.  I didn't know what to do.  What could it be?  Muscles?  Ribs?  Liver?  Gallbladder?  I had no idea, except that it hurt.  I walked to the Beth Israel ER, where the doctors were incredibly nice to me (I told them I was a med student).  Without doing much more than a simple feel around the area, they diagnosed it as a muscular issue, so they simply prescribed me some extra-strength Motrin and shooed me out the door.

A week later, I had my follow-up appointment.  By then, it still hurt, but it was different.  When I pressed on my rib, it clicked.  Click.  Pop.  Click.  (Ow.)  Diagnosis: cracked rib.  From coughing.  Treatment: nothing.  Let it heal on its own for 6 weeks.  When people hear cracked rib, they become concerned.  When they hear it's from coughing, they laugh.  And then they ask me, the girl who goes through a half-gallon of milk, several cups of yogurt, and ounces and ounces of cheese in a week, if I have a calcium deficiency.  Don't be silly.  But also -- for now -- don't touch my rib.

Ireland: Tour and the End

My last full day in Ireland was our Cliffs of Moher tour, which included much more than just the cliffs.  Despite it snowing the previous night, and despite a heavy fog over Galway, we were blessed with beautiful, clear weather for our tour.  Pictures tell it best.

 Beautiful countryside of the Burren

The Burren is known for its vast limestone fields 

The Cliffs of Moher in shadow 

An ancient grave 

As the afternoon wore on, the clouds began to come back. 

During the tour, we became friends with Rachel from Australia. 

The tour ended the same way it began: in heavy fog.

That night, we went to Mass at the Galway cathedral.  Before it began, the priest came over to chat with us, asking where we were from.  Then he asked me if I would like to light the Advent candle, as it was the first Sunday of Advent.  Of course, I said yes!  I was so honored to light the first candle in Galway; what a blessing.  The next day, I had to leave the beautiful country.  My last view of Galway was of the snow-covered countryside, as it had snowed again that night.  I was sad to leave.  Ireland was beautiful, welcoming, and I could have stayed for days and days and days.

Unexpected, but beautiful, snow

Ireland: Branching Out (but Only a Little)

The next day, we did a bit more exploring.  Evan and I walked to and from Spiddal, taking time to stop at several different spots.  We had pizza at a tiny shop owned by an Italian.  We walked onto the pier to gaze at the eerily "floating" Aran Islands.  We browsed the tiny craft stores in search of a hat for me (it was cold!).  We even stopped in a pharmacy to look for an ACE bandage, since my foot was, with no explanation, extremely painful.

Delicious, authentic Italian pizza -- in Ireland! 

The reflection of the sun on the water made the Aran Islands look as if they were floating.

The rest of the afternoon, we lazed around the cottage.  Bobby was cooking a feast, since J.P. was coming over for dinner.  During the preparation, it began snowing big, slushy, wet flakes, which we enjoyed for a few minutes before going back inside because it was too wet.  Eventually, the table was set, the meal was cooked, the water was poured, but J.P. wasn't there yet.  Thirty minutes late, we heard a knock on the door, followed by a shouted, "Let me in!  It's f*ing cold out here!"  When I opened the door, J.P. walked in, his arms barely managing to hold 4 bottles of wine.  I guess it's good to be friends with the bartender.

Cheese makes everything more delicious.

Dinner was delicious, and the company was entertaining.  We convinced J.P. to come to the Galway pubs with us.  This turned out to be the best accomplishment of the night, because we ended up splitting off from the larger group, with just 4 of us going to J.P.'s favorite places with him.  I'm convinced that he knows all of the pub owners (as well as a good proportion of the workers) in Galway.  He kept us well supplied with Guinness throughout the night, as well as pizza.  One of the funniest moments of the night was when he decided that we needed another pizza at Monroe's.  Instead of waiting for someone to come and take our order, he simply got up, went behind the bar, and walked into the kitchen.  A few minutes later, we had a steaming hot pizza in front of us.

Galway at night -- it was snowing now and again throughout the evening.

Guinness at Monroe's

The next day, we were supposed to go on the Cliffs of Moher tour, but Evan's alarm didn't go off, so we missed the bus.  Whoops.  We made the best of the day by going into Galway, shopping around, having pasties, and seeing the new Harry Potter film.  That night, we went to Hughes's, the students' favorite Spiddal pub.  The local residents were playing traditional music in the corner.  I thought I was in heaven.  That was the one thing I knew that I wanted to do when I was in Ireland: go to a local pub with local musicians playing traditional music.  It was even better than I could have ever expected.

Christmas shoppers in Galway

Ireland: The Local Scene

My friends are beginning to question my tendency to vacation in places that are colder than where I live.  All I can say is it's not my fault that I'm only willing to travel if I can mooch off of the people who live there.  Obviously, that's a lie, but traveling certainly becomes more convenient if you have a friend or relative who can show you around, making it unnecessary to actually do any planning for yourself.  That's how I ended up spending Thanksgiving visiting Evan in Ireland.

Green...just as expected

The first 2 days were all about staying close to "home."  Evan and the rest of his classmates spent their semester living at the Park Lodge Hotel, close to Spiddal (which is near Galway).  On my first day there, Evan gave me no time to rest, but I suppose I can't complain because it helped me adjust to the new time zone.  As soon as I had dropped off my things, we went on a long walk around the local area.  First we explored "the Shire," which seemed to be a long-abandoned village full of ruined houses, stone fences, and friendly animals.

Barbed wire is overrated.  Stone fences are the way to go.

We had no idea where the dog came from, but it was extremely friendly. 

Oh look, a horse!

Next we walked down to the water of Galway Bay and navigated the rocks as far out into the water as we could without getting wet.  The sun was setting, and we could see the Aran Islands just on the horizon.  That night, I met many of Evan's friends at the hotel's pub, where I also met the much-famed bartender John Paul Foyle, or J.P., as he was fondly known by all of the college students.  J.P. didn't mind the irreverent college kids requesting carbombs or playing loud America-touting music; in fact, he seemed to think it was funny.

Almost sunset over Galway Bay

The next day was Thanksgiving, and it was another day spent almost entirely at the Park Lodge Hotel.  In the afternoon, many of us spent a few cold (but fun) hours at the local hurling pitch playing American football.  As luck had it, my foot was giving me a whole lot of unexpected pain, so I sat on the side with a few of the others and watched, cheered, and took pictures.  Warming up by the gas fireplace afterwards was a much-appreciated comfort.

I'm sure everyone thought we were crazy Americans.

Thanksgiving dinner was fantastic as well.  With many years of experience, the Park Lodge has really learned how to do the American Thanksgiving meal well.  I was astounded when the turkey was brought out.  Someone told us that it was over 20 kg, and I would certainly believe it.  It was put best by Rory, the group's favorite taxi driver, who was sitting at our table: "Now that's a f*ing turkey!"  After the meal, and after we had recovered at least a bit of our strength, J.P. once again opened the hotel pub.  Nights with J.P. were becoming a theme, and would continue at least one more night...

Fun and Misery Rarely Go Together

But they did on Saturday.  This weekend, I ran in the Tri-State Tough Mudder in Englishtown, New Jersey, with 9 other classmates from Einstein.  This is the same race series as the one that I ran in May (in Pennsylvania) with 4 other classmates.  This time, everything about it was several levels higher on the intensity scale.

One: We made a whole weekend out of it.  We rented a cabin in New Jersey for the weekend.  We had 13 of us sleeping in, essentially, a glorified mobile home.  That's all right, there was plenty of space.  Also, we got to use the hot tub, grill, and fire pit, so it was a whole lot of fun.

Birthday party at the cabin!

Two: We  brought spectators with us.  A few of our classmates (who weren't quite sure if they were up for the challenge of the Mudder) nevertheless came and supported us through it.  That's why I have so many great photos from the race.  (I didn't take them, obviously.)

Our loyal fans

Three: We had matching "uniforms."  Kind of.  We all wore our red Einstein scrub tops from anatomy last year, in some shape or form.  We figured, why not ruin them with mud?  They're already ruined with formaldehyde.  No big loss.  Plus, we looked awesome all in red together.

Pre-mud

Four: There were twice as many of us this time.  The 5 of us from last time, plus 5 more adventurous types, ran the 12-mile, 19-obstacle race.  The proportion of crazy people in Einstein's class of 2013 is increasing precipitously.

And yes, I do mean crazy.  When Daniel asked to borrow me for a second, I thought he wanted to do partner stretches.  I was wrong.

Five: We stayed together as a team.  Now, we could have split up and gone at our own, individual paces, but we made the decision to stay together.  We helped each other out, cheered each other on, tackled each other in the mud, and intimidated the competition.  (Actually, that's a lie.  Pretty much everyone who was running the race was running it for pure fun.)

Teamwork was a great decision.

Six: It was COLD.  For November, I suppose, it was actually quite warm - high 40s/low 50s, sunny, but a bit breezy.  Sure, that's fine running weather normally, but for this race...no.  The minute we got wet, the comfort was over, and that was within the first 2 miles.

Trying to stay warm, pre-race

Seven: We were in the water and mud MUCH longer than last time, and the water, if you hadn't guessed, was COLD.  The first 15-foot plunge knocked the wind out of me; my lungs were not prepared for the freezing lake below, which we then had to wade across in shoulder-level water.  My skin was so cold that it felt as if it were burning.  Bobbing under the barrels gave me the worst ice-cream headache of my life.  After getting out for a minute, we had to get right back in and swim across again.  Shoes don't propel well, so I had to rely on my arms, which, by the time I was almost across, were hardly working because the muscles were so cold.  I had never been that cold in my life.

That's not a warm lake that we had to swim across.

Eight:  There was SO much more mud than last time, which was great!  We tackled each other in it, threw it at each other, tripped in it, were covered in it.  Unfortunately, it was only marginally warmer than the lake, and we were never really dry after that first plunge.  While waiting to attempt to sprint up the impossibly slick mud mountain, we were standing still in the open breeze for close to 10 mud-soaked minutes, and THAT was then the coldest I had ever been in my life.

The coldest I've ever been was at this moment.

Nine: The race itself was more intense.  It was nearly twice as long (12 miles vs. 7 miles last May), and the obstacles were similar but harder, and there was actually a mystery obstacle this time: running through dangling, electrified wires.  Don't worry, the sign before the wires warned people with pacemakers or epilepsy to skip it.  I only received a few small shocks, but my taller classmates were tripping over themselves as the unexpected electricity coursed through them.  Afterwards, we couldn't breathe from laughing so hard.

In sight of the finish line

Ten: We finished together, triumphantly and as a team.  We felt as though we'd never be warm again, but within a few hours of fires, car heaters, blankets, showers, and hot tubs, we had warded off the hypothermia.

Muddy, freezing, and happy

Miserable?  Parts.  Particularly the parts when we were in the water, or wet and standing still in the breeze.  Challenging?  Without a doubt.  Before Saturday, I had never run 12 consecutive miles.  My knees and hips took a beating, and I'm still sore even 3 days later, but I feel proud of all of us for running the race.  Fun?  Not even a question.  The entire weekend - even, arguably, those miserable moments - was an incredibly enjoyable experience with my friends.  When's the next Tough Mudder?  Sign me up!

National Rep - Who, Me?

The weekend after my Halloween adventures with Rachel in D.C., I found myself traveling to D.C. yet again.  This time, it was on Einstein's dime, and it was decidedly more official.  Fellow classmate and student council member, Utibe, and I left after our Thursday classes to fly (yes, fly) to the capitol.  By completely strange but fortunate circumstances, we had recently become Einstein's representatives on the Organization of Student Representatives (OSR) of the Association of American Medical Colleges (AAMC - the organization responsible for the MCAT, medical school applications, and the residency match, among other things), and we were traveling to D.C. to participate in the OSR portion of the AAMC annual meeting.

One school out of hundreds...well, more like hundred.

I'm sure it all sounds incredibly dry and boring, but let me assure you that it was not.  Without a doubt, it has been the highlight of my academic career at Einstein so far.  I had the chance to meet student representatives from other medical schools across the country.  I was able to learn about the enormous variety of educational initiatives and technologies at other schools.  I learned about the biggest challenges facing students across the country as well as the proposals being made to counter them.  I learned about the proposed changes and committee work on revising the MCAT and the medical school application process, as well as the changes ready to be implemented to make the residency Match and "Scramble" more organized and less nightmarish for fourth-year medical students.  On top of all of that, I heard a fantastic speech by the keynote speaker, Malcolm Gladwell, who used his phenomenal storytelling skills to get across the simple yet powerful message about the importance of humility in leadership.

We found a pure chocolate replica of the Einstein memorial.  Awesome!

And I participated in the elections of OSR leadership.  And I gave advice to pre-med college students.  And I had dinner with Einstein's Dean of Education.  And I made great new friends and contacts with other OSR reps.  And Utibe and I tried very hard (but ultimately failed) to use the full allotment of meal money from Einstein.  It was an incredible weekend.  I learned so much about medical education.  I'm excited to continue to serve on the OSR; hopefully we will be able to continue to go to these meetings.  I never really thought about academic medicine before, but I've discovered its excitement and appeal.  When I was telling some friends back at Einstein about my experience and how much it excited me, I was pleasantly surprised when one said, "Oh my gosh...you're totally going to be the Dean of a medical school someday."  Hmm...never thought about it before...but maybe when I'm ready to retire from the Air Force, it's something to consider...?

Fear and/or Sanity

A recap of my Halloween weekend in D.C.

Rachel and I dressed up for the Stewart/Colbert rally. 

By the time we got there, it was already incredibly crowded.  We couldn't see the stage from where we were standing.  We had this (somewhat obstructed) view of one of the big screens, though. 

Some people decided to get a better view from the top of an ambulance.  (How, exactly, is this legal??) 

This guy had a better idea.  Probably the best view from near us.  I have to admit I was slightly jealous. 

Some people had some hilarious signs. 

Love the irony 

This one, though, was my favorite.

After the rally was over, we simply stood and watched the crowd leave the Mall.  It was this crowded for at least 30 minutes.  And imagine...this is only one tiny portion of the crowd from the Mall.

After the crowds had (relatively) dispersed, we went back to take a look at the stage. 

And we asked someone to take a photo of us with my camera.  I lost count of how many people stopped us to take pictures with their cameras. 

Taking advantage of my politically themed costume, we had fun taking photos around the city. 

A fantastic day.