As part of my nutrition course I had to make a food diary documenting what and how much I've been eating over a three day period. Although my food intake can vary largely from day to day, the overall average is that I'm only getting about 70% of what my body needs in terms of energy expenditure. Hmmm...could that be why I feel sleepy all the time? More food = more energy? What a brilliant concept, I must explore this further.
Actually, this exercise is quite good for me. It shows that I'm not getting enough of the vitamins that I need. I get a lot of potassium though, for one reason or another. Not nearly enough fibers. I have a high cholesterol and high sodium diet. I wish there was a Chinese version of this somewhere, because I would like my parents to try to document their daily intake to see where they are deficient. The site is a big pain to navigate, but if you are diligent, it actually is worth the trouble (so few things are these days...)
My Pyramid Tracker
Try it for yourself starting tomorrow! Don't be like me, accosted on the streets of Philly by some psycho because he thought he could bully some clinically undernourished waif who doesn't like food. Yes yes, I will get over this, eventually.
Friday, September 21, 2007
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Chinatown Clinic
Today I went to volunteer at this clinic down in Chinatown. It's a solid operation run by volunteer students and doctors. The doctor who has been running this for the last 10 years is most probably a saint, but one that can be decidedly grouchy if he wants to be. I was placed in the "pharmacy" with these second year students.
My job was to play errand girl, I would take the medicine and give them to the patients. Often the job entailed such difficulties such as reading the label out loud to the patient, like "take this once a day." I'm sure I mispronounced quite a few names though. I smile to seem less threatening, it doesn't always come naturally. I think I have something wrong with my personality. I wish I was the bubbly girl who always exude natural warmth and friendliness, but alas.
Anyway, I had a good time. A couple of my classmates went with me and it was like that first episode of Grey's Anatomy, a bunch of newbies all thrown into this medical setting together and half the time, they look at each other wondering what the heck they were supposed to be doing. It was fun in that sort of communal spirit, because we were all in it together and all somewhat lost and clueless.
My job was to play errand girl, I would take the medicine and give them to the patients. Often the job entailed such difficulties such as reading the label out loud to the patient, like "take this once a day." I'm sure I mispronounced quite a few names though. I smile to seem less threatening, it doesn't always come naturally. I think I have something wrong with my personality. I wish I was the bubbly girl who always exude natural warmth and friendliness, but alas.
Anyway, I had a good time. A couple of my classmates went with me and it was like that first episode of Grey's Anatomy, a bunch of newbies all thrown into this medical setting together and half the time, they look at each other wondering what the heck they were supposed to be doing. It was fun in that sort of communal spirit, because we were all in it together and all somewhat lost and clueless.
Four hours on the back
I just spent four hours studying, restudying, alternatingly drooling (read: sleeping) on my anatomy books. I have all told, about five different books opened as I hopscotched from one book to another. The target of my intense study? The back.
The more I study this gross anatomy stuff, the more impressed I am with the intricate designs that make up the human body. The back of the average human is sheathed in layer upon layer of muscles, some traversing diagonally right, some shooting up diagonally left, most of the muscles are paired, that is, you have a right and left version of the same muscle. Actually maybe all - I've yet to identify a muscle that is the lone ranger. Each muscle is there for a different purpose or function. Now the average couch potatoe (aka moi) do not take anywhere even remotely close to enough advantage of all his core muscles. But if you observe a dancer in action, you can bet that all those extensors and flexors are working hard to allow that dancer to create such beauty with her body movements.
Anyhoo, I shall retire for the evening and leave you to contemplate on the magnificence of such objects as semispinalis capitis, rhomboid majors, and my personal favorites: serratus posterior inferior and serratus posterior superior. Those good old profs of yore who made up these anatomical terms certainly didn't have economy of letters in mind at that time.
The more I study this gross anatomy stuff, the more impressed I am with the intricate designs that make up the human body. The back of the average human is sheathed in layer upon layer of muscles, some traversing diagonally right, some shooting up diagonally left, most of the muscles are paired, that is, you have a right and left version of the same muscle. Actually maybe all - I've yet to identify a muscle that is the lone ranger. Each muscle is there for a different purpose or function. Now the average couch potatoe (aka moi) do not take anywhere even remotely close to enough advantage of all his core muscles. But if you observe a dancer in action, you can bet that all those extensors and flexors are working hard to allow that dancer to create such beauty with her body movements.
Anyhoo, I shall retire for the evening and leave you to contemplate on the magnificence of such objects as semispinalis capitis, rhomboid majors, and my personal favorites: serratus posterior inferior and serratus posterior superior. Those good old profs of yore who made up these anatomical terms certainly didn't have economy of letters in mind at that time.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
My Cadaver Story
From day one we’ve been harped on about professionalism. Well today was gross anatomy lab day 1 and we were going to be introduced to our cadaver and I was determined to be no less than 120% professional.
Our group assembled uncertainly around B5, our assigned table. On it lay a body covered under a white sheet. We peered at the form curiously and then at each other hesitantly, I think none of us were too eager to unveil what was beneath quite just yet.
Finally the professor’s clear directive rang out. “Remove the white sheet.” We complied. I looked curiously at the body and the first thing I wondered was, “what gender?” I looked first at the chest. It was flat, with protruding nipples. I thought, “oh, so it is probably male.” But then I looked further down and saw the absence of signifying organs and then I readjusted my logical reasoning. “oh, it is a rather thin female.”
A few kids looked over at our body, made the “yuck face” as they stared in morbid fascination at the green spots that had arisen on certain parts of our body. They smirked and said, “this one has mold.” I thought it was rather obnoxious of them, though I reasoned they were in part dealing with their own nervousness. I was already feeling connected to the body as well as somewhat protective.
The professor asked us to cut the plastic bag from the body. I grabbed the scissors and started zipping down the middle. My brisk business-like gestures belie my own hidden tremulous feelings. I was, truth be told, probably hyperventilating subconsciously because I was taking care to not inhale through my nose. When I got to the area near her face, I felt for a moment how surreal it really was. I was an inch from a dead person and all I cared about was the rather technical and mundane issue of removing her from the plastic body bag, just as if I were removing artichokes from a plastic bag recently purchased at Pathmark.
At some point not too long after, I got a chance to, or rather, I forced myself to look at the face of the body and see her as who she once was. She was a thin old lady, with a rather petite, symmetrical and comely face. I imagine that in life, she was one of those people who made you feel better just by her very presence. At that moment, my nervousness or repressed tremors subsided and I felt instead a quiet that came over me. I thought of her bravery in making this decision and I thought of how we have, by chance, by destiny, whatever you would like to call it, come to be linked in this very special and very intimate way. At that moment, I said a little prayer of gratitude for her and I also prayed to God for both strength and humility in the coming months. The best thing I can do for her is to honor her body and to learn what I am meant to learn, in a diligent, respectful, careful way, one stroke, one day at a time.
Our group assembled uncertainly around B5, our assigned table. On it lay a body covered under a white sheet. We peered at the form curiously and then at each other hesitantly, I think none of us were too eager to unveil what was beneath quite just yet.
Finally the professor’s clear directive rang out. “Remove the white sheet.” We complied. I looked curiously at the body and the first thing I wondered was, “what gender?” I looked first at the chest. It was flat, with protruding nipples. I thought, “oh, so it is probably male.” But then I looked further down and saw the absence of signifying organs and then I readjusted my logical reasoning. “oh, it is a rather thin female.”
A few kids looked over at our body, made the “yuck face” as they stared in morbid fascination at the green spots that had arisen on certain parts of our body. They smirked and said, “this one has mold.” I thought it was rather obnoxious of them, though I reasoned they were in part dealing with their own nervousness. I was already feeling connected to the body as well as somewhat protective.
The professor asked us to cut the plastic bag from the body. I grabbed the scissors and started zipping down the middle. My brisk business-like gestures belie my own hidden tremulous feelings. I was, truth be told, probably hyperventilating subconsciously because I was taking care to not inhale through my nose. When I got to the area near her face, I felt for a moment how surreal it really was. I was an inch from a dead person and all I cared about was the rather technical and mundane issue of removing her from the plastic body bag, just as if I were removing artichokes from a plastic bag recently purchased at Pathmark.
At some point not too long after, I got a chance to, or rather, I forced myself to look at the face of the body and see her as who she once was. She was a thin old lady, with a rather petite, symmetrical and comely face. I imagine that in life, she was one of those people who made you feel better just by her very presence. At that moment, my nervousness or repressed tremors subsided and I felt instead a quiet that came over me. I thought of her bravery in making this decision and I thought of how we have, by chance, by destiny, whatever you would like to call it, come to be linked in this very special and very intimate way. At that moment, I said a little prayer of gratitude for her and I also prayed to God for both strength and humility in the coming months. The best thing I can do for her is to honor her body and to learn what I am meant to learn, in a diligent, respectful, careful way, one stroke, one day at a time.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
A long blog after a long hiatus
Morning: I went to a brunch titled Soul of Medicine. It was a pretty good event for physicians and medical students alike, all meeting and greeting, mingling and chowing. The food was good -- would have been even better hot, but as I went there late, I can only surmise with wistfulness. Some brave souls stood up before a crowd of 100 or more and begin telling their stories of doctor-patient interactions. One of the most moving of which was when a doctor shared about the time a group of patients banded together to try to save a failing hospital, testifying to the importance that this hospital and its doctors have played in their collective lives over the last 50 or so years. I listened and inwardly, I felt both gladdened and a bit saddened. The purpose of this brunch I suppose is to try and give cynical, tired doctors a morale boost and to give medical students space in which to grow their idealism again. Even amidst the chicken soup buffet, I found myself wondering, how will I manage to hold on to this idealistic, even naive desire to "help" others throughout my career, one that is sure to be full of ups and downs?
So my day started out pretty nicely overall and I left the brunch, if not exactly glowing with newfound idealism and skipping on clouds of noble dreams, I at least walked away satisfied that there are still doctors out there who really do care. I then spent an uneventful hour at the local Starbucks, unsuccessfully trying to cram in facts of spinal cord anatomy and the metabolism of glucose, two very diverse subjects, but all required and force-fed to your average med student.
I decided to take a break around this time and meandered to the local Borders bookstore to check out their goodies. It was also at this time that your not-so-intrepid heroine meets a potential serial killer. =(
So I was just moseying around when out of the blue, this middle-aged man with a metallic front tooth flashes his gnarly face in front of me and hisses, "Food and the body, they make a VERY NICE combination." To be honest, I was like, "WHAT????" I was too startled to even respond at first. My first intuitive gesture was to snap my head back like 2 feet to avoid any contact with this putrid specimen. I just stared at him in bewilderment, but to cover my confusion and because I'm Asian (when in doubt, smile politely - it's been inculcated into me) I just smiled politely and what I hope to be dismissively and walked away, like FAR away.
Later as I thought about this comment some more, I began to be more and more annoyed. This guy was insinuating that I have some sort of eating disorder, perhaps anorexia or bulemia, because he checked out my physique (probably simultaneously in a lurid and disapproving way) and decided that I was too skinny to be eating healthily. There was that little voice that rose up in me in protest whenever something injust has occurred and I smacked myself because I should have hissed right back at him, "Oh don't worry, I eat plenty, you dumbfuck" We all know it's wrong for a person to go to an obese person and tell them to eat less. It's insensitive and degrading. But what happens when it's the other way around? I've been singled out just because some shithead can't tell the difference between a healthy slender body from a clinically malnourished one. The asshole put a damper in my mood right then and there. But it got worse, or your N-S-I heroine just got more paranoid, I don't know which.
So anyway I went to the first floor to pay for my books, and lo! the schmuck was right behind me. I nonchalantly looked away but I was tense and braced for fight or flight. Flight - pretty easy, I'll just run to the nearest bookstore security guard and tell them to save me. Fight - I will be armed and prepared to scream at him if he comes near at me again to make some other invasive and inappropriate remark. Wasn't sure which, but I was set for either. But nothing dramatic happened. He seemed to be avoiding me too in his own right and not coming too close. I went to pay for my books and he did too. But then I noticed a curious thing. I told myself that I will not leave the bookstore before him. I would leave after him so that I have a good vantage point and not the other way around. This guy must have had some ideas of accosting me outside the bookstore, because he literally began to dawdle and wait around. He did everything he could to dawdle, he stared at some posters, he checked his watch, etc etc. Meanwhile I was standing a few feet from him, putting my books into my bag and pondering my next move. I smirked to myself and thought, "Oh NO you don't. I AM THE QUEEN OF DAWDLING. Let's see who can play this game longer." But on the other hand, I was caught between wondering if I'm just insane or he really is waiting for me to leave the bookstore too. So eventually the cat and mouse game came to a head and he left the bookstore, but he didn't LEAVE, he just stood outside the bookstore, biding his time. At this point, I decided that I wasn't going to leave the bookstore so I whipped out my cell phone and decided to call my parents. I thought, A, I could easily spend another 30-40 minutes on the phone talking to my mom if I have to or B, at the very least, I can tell my Mom what this evil creepy man looks like should it come to that.
So after about 10 minutes on the phone, I left the bookstore and he seemed to have disappeared to find his next victim and I went promptly to Five Guys and stuffed myself with a double cheeseburger topped with onions and mushroom. I thought I deserved it after the stressful ordeal I've just been through. And let me tell you, don't underestimate the power endorphins that can be released from the simple ingesting of saturated grease. Then I left Five Guys, if not deliriously happy, at least restored in my natural equilibrium and state of mind.
So my day started out pretty nicely overall and I left the brunch, if not exactly glowing with newfound idealism and skipping on clouds of noble dreams, I at least walked away satisfied that there are still doctors out there who really do care. I then spent an uneventful hour at the local Starbucks, unsuccessfully trying to cram in facts of spinal cord anatomy and the metabolism of glucose, two very diverse subjects, but all required and force-fed to your average med student.
I decided to take a break around this time and meandered to the local Borders bookstore to check out their goodies. It was also at this time that your not-so-intrepid heroine meets a potential serial killer. =(
So I was just moseying around when out of the blue, this middle-aged man with a metallic front tooth flashes his gnarly face in front of me and hisses, "Food and the body, they make a VERY NICE combination." To be honest, I was like, "WHAT????" I was too startled to even respond at first. My first intuitive gesture was to snap my head back like 2 feet to avoid any contact with this putrid specimen. I just stared at him in bewilderment, but to cover my confusion and because I'm Asian (when in doubt, smile politely - it's been inculcated into me) I just smiled politely and what I hope to be dismissively and walked away, like FAR away.
Later as I thought about this comment some more, I began to be more and more annoyed. This guy was insinuating that I have some sort of eating disorder, perhaps anorexia or bulemia, because he checked out my physique (probably simultaneously in a lurid and disapproving way) and decided that I was too skinny to be eating healthily. There was that little voice that rose up in me in protest whenever something injust has occurred and I smacked myself because I should have hissed right back at him, "Oh don't worry, I eat plenty, you dumbfuck" We all know it's wrong for a person to go to an obese person and tell them to eat less. It's insensitive and degrading. But what happens when it's the other way around? I've been singled out just because some shithead can't tell the difference between a healthy slender body from a clinically malnourished one. The asshole put a damper in my mood right then and there. But it got worse, or your N-S-I heroine just got more paranoid, I don't know which.
So anyway I went to the first floor to pay for my books, and lo! the schmuck was right behind me. I nonchalantly looked away but I was tense and braced for fight or flight. Flight - pretty easy, I'll just run to the nearest bookstore security guard and tell them to save me. Fight - I will be armed and prepared to scream at him if he comes near at me again to make some other invasive and inappropriate remark. Wasn't sure which, but I was set for either. But nothing dramatic happened. He seemed to be avoiding me too in his own right and not coming too close. I went to pay for my books and he did too. But then I noticed a curious thing. I told myself that I will not leave the bookstore before him. I would leave after him so that I have a good vantage point and not the other way around. This guy must have had some ideas of accosting me outside the bookstore, because he literally began to dawdle and wait around. He did everything he could to dawdle, he stared at some posters, he checked his watch, etc etc. Meanwhile I was standing a few feet from him, putting my books into my bag and pondering my next move. I smirked to myself and thought, "Oh NO you don't. I AM THE QUEEN OF DAWDLING. Let's see who can play this game longer." But on the other hand, I was caught between wondering if I'm just insane or he really is waiting for me to leave the bookstore too. So eventually the cat and mouse game came to a head and he left the bookstore, but he didn't LEAVE, he just stood outside the bookstore, biding his time. At this point, I decided that I wasn't going to leave the bookstore so I whipped out my cell phone and decided to call my parents. I thought, A, I could easily spend another 30-40 minutes on the phone talking to my mom if I have to or B, at the very least, I can tell my Mom what this evil creepy man looks like should it come to that.
So after about 10 minutes on the phone, I left the bookstore and he seemed to have disappeared to find his next victim and I went promptly to Five Guys and stuffed myself with a double cheeseburger topped with onions and mushroom. I thought I deserved it after the stressful ordeal I've just been through. And let me tell you, don't underestimate the power endorphins that can be released from the simple ingesting of saturated grease. Then I left Five Guys, if not deliriously happy, at least restored in my natural equilibrium and state of mind.
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