Two good films

I saw "The Kids are Alright" the other day with Jason. The story is about a lesbian couple who raised two kids by in vitro fertilzation with an anonymous donor. Each woman had a child with the same donor. Things get interesting 18 years later when the donor shows up at their door and attempts to become a part of the family. I won't go into too much detail, as while I did enjoy the film, I'm more excited and eager to present the next film I just recently saw.

"The Secret in their eyes" by Argentinean director Juan Jose Campanella is a true masterpiece! The story is set in modern day Argentina through initially, the eyes of a retired court investigator. The film very fluidly however, brings us back 25 years to when the story actually begins, with the brutal murder of a beautiful young woman. Benjamin Esposito, played by Ricardo Darin (why haven't I known about this man before??) is a marvel to watch, he is somehow able to convey great emotional richness while saying precious little. His best friend and hapless alcoholic takes a comedic turn and turns in a fine performance, delivering some of the funniest lines in the film. The female lead is also wonderful to watch. Honestly, I can't gush enough about the acting superlatives so I'll just leave it at that, tremendous acting. Done!

But the story! The story was itself a fourth major player in the ball game. It's a crime novella, a mystery, an unwinding tale that leads us deeper and deeper, with fresh surprises at multiple turns. Even when you think the mystery is solved, you soon realize that the journey is only half way there, there was still more deliciousness awaiting!

Okay now I'm starting to babble like an Argentinean, all exclamation points and excited passion. The story as I was saying started off as a remininscing of sorts, as a man gnaws and chews on a case that's tormented him for 25+ years. A teacher and newly married, was raped and murdered, and at first, the murder was pinned on some hapless innocents. Based on some paltry evidence, the investigators nonetheless find the true perpetrator very quickly. (Here, it requires a bit of the stretch on your imagination, but play along, you will be richly rewarded) The story evolves beyond just the identity of the culprit, it also centered on the unfulfilled and unspoken passion between the two main characters, the husband of the young wife and how he dealt with the tragedy, and also Esposito's good friend. So what I liked so much about the story is how all these elements interplay and are richly woven together.

I can't say enough good things about the cinematography of the film too, it's shot in lush, richly hued tones which colors the film (literally) in a dramatic fashion, in line with the backdrop of the story development. I also enjoy the multiple ways in which the camera approaches its subjects, very creative and often unsettling ways, but it brings an arresting visual element to the film.

Anyway, I learned afterwards that the film won the Academy Award for best International Film of 2010. I'm not surprised, it deserved this accolade in spades. In 2010 I've had the pleasure of seeing many good films, but this one definitely will stay with me for some time to come.

Orlando, Fl

Hello from Orlando! I've been vegging in my hotel room all afternoon. Since I decided not to get a rental, and since a quick look outside my window offered a nice but somewhat forbidding view of the downtown area, I explored the world from bed, or otherwise known as internet browsing. I didn't feel like going to an amusement park all by myself (hopefully for obvious reasons) and I didn't feel like whiling time at the local mall.

So far I think my impressions of Orlando is, it's a pleasant touristy city. That's it. The fact that there are all these awesome amusement parks in the vicinity deters me more than attracts me as good place to train. It just seems like it would be hard to be taken seriously in a place like this. I wonder if the doctors here also put on a dinner and a show for the price of one hospital admission? In their defense though, this one hospital I passed by on the way to the hotel is drop dead gorgeous. Shiny metallic building gleaming and towering in the sun, admidst clusters of palm trees. Really the hospital out of TV shows. I think it's called Orlando Regional Medical Center or something like that, and I was a tad disappointed it wasn't where I'll be interviewing tomorrow.

Dinner tonight was a lonely affair, but at least it was on the program! I had shrimp scampi, the shrimp was super fresh. I have to say, I haven't had one bad seafood dish in Florida so far, in all the times I've been in Florida, mind you.

Alright, well tomorrow is interview day and I hope it won't be too painful. In the meantime, I need to kill some more time between now and bedtime.

Adios!

Lazy Sunday

Today was a much needed day of R&R. However I did wake up bright and early at 7 AM, after an attack of the insomnia monster. What did I do to capture the glorious essence of all this available free time on my hands? I went straight to my computer and plunker down to browse aimlessly for the next several hours. So well, exercising at the gym didn't happen today. But it's just as well, since I'm developing the beginning of a cold and I hope it goes away before my air travel tomorrow.

Jason and I went to Chinatown and brought back a whole bunch of goodies. Honey bbq pork is on the menu tonight, as well as a bunch of pork fat laden baked pastries. I just realized that this coming week, I'll be gone for a good 5/6 of the time, so it's really not necessarily to stock up on groceries. Whenever I'm not here, Jason usually doesn't cook either.

I attempted to start a project I've long wanted to do. I had wanted to digitalize our old family pictures for posterity's sakes. I got as far as 8 pictures scanned and uploaded. However, as I haven't figured out a way to make them the format I want (jpeg) you can say the technical difficulties are kind of running the project to the ground. I don't foresee going very far with this until I figure out the issue.

To end this exciting post, we're going to watch the film "The Kids are Alright" Typical Jason, he refuses to tell me anything about it before we watch it. I guess I'll share more when I'm done with it!

Tootaloo!

Rusty brain needs tune-up

Hello folks! I'm back and roaring to go! I've hit an all time low in terms of blog posts this past year. And let's see if I can make up some of that in the tail end of 2010.

Today was an oddly serendipitous return to blogging. I was just bored and searching for something to do, anything to do, really. And I stumbled upon Jason's old blog which I promptly began to read to much amusement and mirth. Talk about blast from the past. Jason hasn't touched it in years. And sadly, neither have I. But it was really interesting to read what he wrote back in the day and having the hindsight of knowing what happened to at least one of his "housemates." What a weird wacky world we do live in!

So Yoming and Dave came to visit us in Philadelphia today. It was lovely. We went to El Vez, a Mexican place down the street. I personally love their corn soup with scallop, but I also figured out today that, that's about all I really like about that restaurant. Too bad, next time they come, we'll try to find a more exciting culinary experience. On a different note, we got into a rather scintillating discussion about how we would personally teach our future children. I became rather emotional, admittedly, on the subject of the need to treat both son and daughter equally. I think Y&D were probably surprised, but this is an issue quite near and dear to my heart. I never feel or believe that I am a hard-core feminist espousing militant indoctrinations of female empowerment. On the other hand, I do truly believe that this world still sells many, if not most, of its women short. And while I get that it's the "reality" of the world, it neither has to be, nor does it have be perpetuated by females themselves.

Yes, as a future physician, I'm well aware of the actual physical differences between males and females. But my stance has never been that women and men are absolutely the same, only that in certain biopsychosocial areas, there ought to be one standard yardstick to abide by. Therefore, I remain firm in my belief that I do not need to nor should I treat my children differently solely based on gender difference. That is ultimately doing a disservice to my future daughter, as well as conveying the message that I condone and implicitly approve the double standard applied to women of our society.

Okay done, I can get off my soapbox now! Anyway, the rest of their visit was whiled away in idle pleasantries. Jason and Dave got into playing Streetfighter on a super natty (read: old) nintendo set. It was only borderline entertaining to watch them go at it, I'll admit, not a huge fan of being a videogame groupie. Still was very happy to see my two favorite people from nyc and happier still they trekked all the way to the City of Brotherly Stinkhole to visit us. That's true friendship, eh folks?

And another one for the road...

From my attending, a naturally very funny man. I just had to share this!

Attending: This is what we have to say to the patient. "Sir, the BAD news is we don't know what is going on with you. The WORSE news is, even if we did, we wouldn't be able to do anything for you. The GOOD news is, the weather this weekend is going to be fabulous. The BEST news is, I'm taking my family to Busch Gardens this weekend!"

The secret to being just a little happier

Actually, like most other articles out there about being happy, or finding happiness, this post will probably be fairly chock full of cliches. I know that I've yet to come up with any truly revolutionary way to discover new and everlasting happiness in life. And there are methods which while I suspect will ultimately bear fruit down the road, I've yet to commit myself fully to, i.e. living a truly spiritual life.

In any case, enough jibber jabber. Let me share one simple but profound maxim that I've personally experienced. This is in the course of my third year medical school career thus far. It's been truly an emotional roller coaster for me, folks. I'm the type that absorbs my experiences, without necessarily a visceral reaction at the time of, but it seeps into my psyche, it fills my dreams at night, it comes out in ways that surprise me (the emotional aftershocks, or the reactions to events, etc)

Sometimes I do the horrible thing of holding on to it, gnawing at it for days, puzzling over it. Sometimes I do successfully dump it out of my mind, like so much garbage. It truly varies, depending on how personal the event gets.

But a recurrent pattern this year so far has been, I get mopey and down in the dumps when I focus too much on my insecurities. When I think of how much more of Harrisons I've YET to read, retain and understand and consolidate into my long term fund of knowledge. When the attending asks me yet another question where I'm like a deer caught in the headlights and my only recourse is to smile sheepishly and say I don't know. When I kick myself figuratively and sometimes almost literally when I failed to check something on a patient that I shouldn't have missed. When I wonder if everyone that I meet secretly thinks I have an IQ of 70 and wondered how I ended up in medical school.

It doesn't help that I feel like I might secretly be a misanthrope and I'm still in denial. That would be the ultimate joke. What is a misanthrope doing in medical school? You don't even LIKE people, why would you want a career of dealing with them? (incidentally, I once got "beach bum" as my ideal job on some prospective career survey) It's not that I don't like people per se. It's just that I find myself struggling often with very critical and angry thoughts (inside of course, and never showing on my naturally masked facies) Thoughts like "why can't these people grow up? Why can't they take a look in the mirror and realize the problem is THEM, and not everyone else? Why can't they take responsibility for their own lives instead of feeling like it's their God given right to be catered to and taken care of like a baby? I've had even worse thoughts, but I'll refrain in case you all think I'm a monster.

So two things have made me very unhappy this year. My insecurity in my fund of knowledge and my deficient or scant sense of compassion to many of the patients I've come across. It's not everyone of course. If I feel a patient is genuine, I'm all heart and Hallmark central. But those times are few and far between.

However...to this strong and potent toxin of insecurity and absolute denegration of self is a rising, surging strong and potent counterbalance. Those are the times when I soak up the knowledge of those around me. When I get excited because I'm starting to see the bigger picture of how doctors ought to approach each and every patient, and how to figure out the right way to help them. When the methodology is reinforced in my mind, and all that is left is to configure all the random facts floating around in my head so that they fall neatly into the puzzle. Yes, it's like completing a puzzle and the satisfaction of seeing the bigger pictures. Everyday, I'm realizing how the stuff we were learning back in the first two years DO matter. How biochemistry matters, how anatomy matters, how pharm matters. It's amazing to me when a doctor effortlessly criss-crosses among all these various disciplines and tie together all the knowledge from each field. I'm beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel and medicine is actually starting to make more sense to me now. When I think, to help a patient is my duty as a future doctor, whether or not I personally like the guy is irrelevant, but that I can use my skills and expertise to help because it is the right thing to do.

So, how is this the secret to being just a little happier? Well...in conclusion, if I just learn finally to stop focusing so much on myself, and more on the medicine, the care of patients, the integration of all the knowledge fields, I ought to be one damn happy person.

Dogville

Maybe it was because I let myself identify too deeply with the main character. Maybe it was because we were both female and at many times in my life, I have felt helpless and rather at the mercy of beings more powerful than myself. In any case, I was surprised that I had such a strong visceral emotional response to this movie. At the times when the protagonist is brutalized, subjected to the lowest of degradations, I felt myself gripping my knees and protesting in horror. It's strange really...that such an unassuming film, at least in the beginning, has the ability to build up such a crushing momentum.

Unfortunately, the film also troubled me deeply at the end of it. It lingered, it stayed, it insisted on staying there to make me continue to puzzle over the human condition. Maybe people would be confused at my puzzlement. Pick a side already. Humans are good. Humans are evil. Decide what would be your world view, your paradigm. This film certainly makes a strong case for the latter. It brings to mind a biblical parable. I believe it was the story of Sodom and Gomorrah, where God decided to smite the town for the evil that was within. To purify through destruction. And one man pleaded and bargained with God to not destroy the town if only, if only 20 good people could be found. No No, if only 10. No no, if only 5. As a child, I thought this was rather a ridiculous situation, and wondered why God kept relenting. Perhaps as a child, I had thought this was to show God's mercifulness and grace. But now, I see that God knew all along that there was not even 10 good and righteous souls could be found in that town. How could he not?

The end of Dogville was somewhat similar, a cleansing takes place and it was good. I watched it with satisfaction, with not the least bit of horror or sadness or pity for the dogvillians. But even as it satisfied me as a film watcher, I had to admit, it made me question deeply what it means for anyone to pass judgement.

Damn, it's too late and I'm sleepy, so I feel I'm only semi-coherent about my thoughts about this film. It's such a powerful piece and it gets under your skin (how could it not?) and it stings very deeply. I wish I could let it go, because I feel I've been tainted somewhat in my view of humanity now, and while I always wished to believe in the good of humanity, now I feel there is only suspicion and mistrust and self-doubt.

A black cloud

Today I woke up in a dark dark mood. It colored my world grey and dreary. It was a cloudy day outside, but the black cloud followed me indoors, relentless. One of the veteran doctors at the practice had broken his hip the previous weekend. Being an "Attending" he couldn't possbly have easy nice patients like a 4 month old well child check. Nope, he's got the 65 year old patient with multiple chronic illnesses, something wrong in each geographical location of the body. The same type of patient every 15 minutes, I should add. And I was assigned to him, or at least, his patients.

I mustered what energy I could dredge up and tried to be cordial enough to the first patient. Soon after that visit, my patience already began to wear thin, through no fault of the first patient at all. But then followed a trail of patients all belonging to the one category: Uncontrolled diabetes, uncontrolled hypertension, multiple somatic complaints of either joint pain or stomach pain (take your pick) and childish petulance, poor compliance with medication, and very bitchy attitudes. To top it off, each and every patient had repulsive feet, with nails long disfigured and discolored by fungal infection. But since each patient had DM, I dutifully did the monofilament test on each and every patient, expertly hiding my disgust behind a smooth mask of pure professionalism.

Don't get me wrong. I have a very high tolerance of blood and gore and all things nasty about the human body. I am not fazed too easily. It only behooves me to have to be so intimate with certain people who I find, from a purely personality standpoint, utterly annoying. So their fungus infected toes notwithstanding, it's more their personalities that were rubbing me wrong all day long.

Inside I wondered to myself. Did I really want to go into geriatrics? What happened to my bleeding heart for the elderly? For that matter, what happened to my overall enthusiasm for family medicine? Two weeks ago, I was crowing about the possibility of having found my field! Yikes, is that what I was in for, for the rest of my working life?? Picking up the feet of obese annoying patients with realy gross feet, as I do my best to maintain my empathy? I'm only a junior medical student and already, I feel jadedness creeping in.

Sometimes I want to tell these jabbering patients to shut up for a little and to listen and then I fantasize that I would say, "Patient, please, stop talking. Stop whining. Stop acting like a child. Help US help YOU. Take your medication, educate yourselves better on your illnesses and stop being your own worst enemy. Exercise! Eat right! Stop acting like you're entitled to some miracle medical intervention when you aren't picking up your end of the bargain. Take charge of your own life, grow up. Because you're headed in a bad place and you really have no one to blame but yourself, though you'd LIKE to think you had absolutely nothing to do with it."

Anyway, what a spiel huh? I know I know, as a doctor, I ought to develop more compassion and empathy, please trust me when I say this, I do realize and I'm still trying very hard to maintain it. But to quote a line from Grey's Anatomy, today I'm having a real bad case of the "dark and twisties" and my twisty thoughts have led me down this path.

Okay, now that's it's off my chest, maybe I can wake up tomorrow with a more rosy-colored lens.

One of those days

wherein a series of unfortunate events befell our hapless heroine as she sets out for her first day of family med...

What was originally supposed to be a 24 minute drive turned into a nightmarish, head smacking against dashboard in frustration two hour and 15 minute ordeal. Jason had called me in the morning to inform me that I-76 was really jammed up. So what to do? I thought cleverly, never fear, GPS is here! But wouldn't you know it? I sat in the car for 10 minutes trying to get the GPS to work and feeling stupid when it just won't register that it's in PHILADELPHIA. I kept thinking I must be doing something wrong, when in fact, it was just the GPS being lazy and not wanting to report to duty. Since I knew no other way to get to this particular hospital, I resigned myself to the bumper to bumper traffic of the jammed interstate.

Then...while I proceeded to go on the interstate, the GPS woke up, realized it was in Philly and began directing me to my site. I was overjoyed, my friends! I quickly put into place the directions of avoiding the freeway and took an alternate route. I thought surely now, I can circumvent the monstrous traffic and navigate my way through local roads easily and breezily....or NOT.

Very soon, I found myself in a single lane road that appears to stretch to infinity, and despite never seeing signs for construction, repair, or catastrophic accidents, everyone is travelling at the hair raising speed of 0-10 mph. I just couldn't fathom the reason for the traffic!! I hated myself for entertaining the brief fantasy that it was indeed some major accident up front, so at least there is a CAUSE and REASON at the root of my suffering. By this time, I was running quite late and it being the first day of my rotation and all, I thought grimly of the evaluation I would receive. "Student reported late on her very first day. Shows lack of professional dedication to duties and personal sense of responsibility." Yes, my thoughts turned black, my friends, and a tad melodramatic, as I tend to do.

So after further delays, including having to wait for a freight train to pass, and additional detours when one of the roads was completely sealed and yet another road just ended for no good reason, I began to wonder if God wanted to keep me away from my site for some mysterious divine reason. In any case, I finally dragged my stressed and haggard self to the site, hungry (skipped breakfast) and in pain (my butt was starting to hurt from being in one position for two hours), and still tried my best to put on a bright smile to greet my new coworkers.

My first patient case went relatively uneventfully. I mostly watched, since I didn't feel comfortable sticking 18 guage needles in people's knee joints yet. When I got to my second patient, a cute 1 month old boy here for a well child visit, it all hit me at once. Things began to swim in front of my eyes. I feebly told the doctor that I was feeling a little lightheaded and she told me to sit down right away. So here I was in the patient room, and suddenly I felt like I had turned into the patient, the sickly one. I sat down, and felt nauseous, and feverish and with chills all at once. I ran to the bathroom, but owing to the fact that I had no breakfast, I only hacked up air, very miserably. Just before I ran to the bathroom, I remembered seeing three puzzled faces looking at me, the mother and her son and her little daughter. And I also remember feeling a bit concerned that I might get the baby sick if I was coming down with something, though I knew it was more likely just my blood sugar dipping too low. I also remember I was feeling too sick to care too much also.

In any case, I decided to go home early because I felt like under the circumstances, I seriously doubt I would do much effective learning. I also felt like, though the macho thing to do was to stick it out, dizzy and in pain as I had felt, I didn't see any point in such show of bravado. In the long run, I thought it would be kinder to my body to just come home and rest it off. And so I did. I came home, ate lunch, took a long delicious nap and woke up feeling a million bucks.

Tomorrow is another day and will bring its share of challenges, for sure, but I've definitely had my fill of stressors for today!

I'm back!!!

I definitely took a looong hiatus from blog writing didn't I? And I used to enjoy this ever so much, so in the interest of bringing back something I enjoy, I've resolved to begin anew.

So lots happened in the last 9 months! I encountered and slayed the Step 1 Beast in June!! Well, maybe "slayed" is a bit of an overkill. I somehow managed to sneak by it, is how I really see that. And the big nasty troll somehow did not squish me to smithereens in the process. Sigh of relief.

I began my foray into the third year of medical school, aka junior clerkships and I started my clerkship with psychiatry. With few exceptions, I have actually thoroughly enjoyed myself at the rotation and really got into learning about the biopsychosocial aspects of the patients' lives. Most of the patients were sad sad sad. There was no question about it. Their lives were absolutely derailed by their psychiatric illnesses and other comorbidities. Still while I admittedly on occasion do feel a little critical, thinking to myself "why can't you pull it together already?" my overall sentiment towards these patients run more along the lines of "There but for the grace of God go I."

Now I'm on OB and finishing up in a week. It's been an interesting rollercoaster ride. One week I'm convinced I hate OB and I'm never ever ever going to go near a pregnant woman about to deliver ever again. Then the next week, I get to see really cool procedures or just even a really nicely done C-section by one of the hospital's coolest Ob-gyns and I'm smitten with the possibilities. Most of the Ob-gyn residents I've posed the question "Why OB?" gave me the answer that they liked the mixture of medical and surgical. And it's true, there is definitely a lot more hands-on procedures to be done as well as medical management. In that context, I can see why it's an attractive field. But I'm still struggling with my own inner convictions of where my true strengths lie. And whether or not I want to limit my patient population to only women.

Anyway, thankfully I have a little more time to chew on this dilemma but I shall soon settle on something I'm sure.

In other news - my good friend Viola got married last week! It was a rambunctious wedding chock full of entertainment and food and games and laughter and merriment all around. It was your typical Chinese banquet. That said, I also had a little interesting anecdote from that wedding. I caught the bouquet on the second toss, after it fell limply to the floor on the first try. Then later, Jason caught the garter among the single guys. How cool or how lame is that? You can decide. But then Jason had to do a funky dance to put the garter on me and I have to give him some credit, because he really pulled out some moves. I don't think I've ever seen him move like that, I hope it was caught on DVD. Kiss! Honey. It was one of my personal highlights at the wedding.

Alrighty, that was a whirlwind of words upon words. I'll be more concise next time, but it's so nice to be working the keyboard again, over a breakfast of fruits and a pomegranate green tea. A lovely morning and now off to hit the books!

A successful day

Today was one of those days when I didn't get in my own way. Yes, the day started off a little bumpy, but I am so glad I didn't let the setback set me back too much. I woke up at 9, a lot later than I had told myself I would, but for some reason, I just kept sleeping and sleeping beyond the alarm. Anyway, I got up and quickly began to dive into my studies. I listened to over 6 hours of pharmacology. Then I decided to be the good samaritan and took out the garbage in my apt. The reason I felt like a good samaritan is because I've been doing more than my fair share of the household chores at home but I had three choices, 1. confront my roommate 2. be passive aggressive by refusing to take out the trash and letting it pile up or 3. just take it out. I chose option 3 and secured my peace of mind. I guess confrontation is always an option, but I hate making things awkward over petty issues.

Then I went to...gasp...work out! After my workout, I went to a stress reduction session and enjoyed it thoroughly. Then after that, I studied at the library for an hour. This today was pretty much close to my ideal day for a medical student. I was on top of my work and I didn't slack too much. And now I'm relaxing in front of the TV for an hour or two, which I felt like I actually earned, so I don't feel bad about it either.

It's a constant struggle for me to stay on top of my game, but today at least, my motto was "yes I can"

Obama - 44th President of the USA

Yesterday morning, I woke up and practically skipped my way to the polls while listening to Korean Drama soundtrack music. I don't know if it was the chance to get out of my oven baked apartment, the chance to breathe in the fresh air of East Falls, or simply the opportunity to cast my vote for the 44th president of the United States, but for that brief duration, my mood was oddly good. Actually, I was fairly confident of an Obama win based on all those polls leading up to the election day. One can argue one way or another about the reliability of the polls and I know for a fact that many Americans and Obama diehard fans probably lost a good deal of sleep previously as they worried about the election. Maybe medical school has induced in me a very singular mindset, insular, coccooned, everything revolves around my exams and my grades. I didn't feel like I had extra time or energy wringing my hands worrying about the "fate of the nation" when in reality, all I had within my control is to cast my vote and then let history unfold for itself.

Still last night, despite my pretty cavalier attitude towards the politics and the elections, I was oddly stirred when President (can I call him that now?) Obama gave his acceptance speech in Chicago. Many in the crowds were moved to tears, I guess I can only attribute to Obama's power of personality. There was something about his countenance, so calm, so determined and yet so wholesome still, that it does inspire trust and at the very least, hope. And as he stood on the stage waving, with his family in tow, music playing in the background - isn't it always the music? -- I too uttered a prayer that America will now see better days to come. If for nothing else, I sincerely hope President Obama lives up to the hype and start rebuilding a country where its citizens can lose its long standing feeling of cynicism, jadedness and recapture that lost feeling, something close to, I'd say, pride.

Latest happenings

The last few days passed by in a whirlwind. Saturday I went to New York City and spent the day in lower East side Manhattan. I had become "country mouse" in my extended absence from NYC and I was amazed at the number of people shoving past me during the course of the day. Still I was ecstatic to be back in the city, you see, my erstwhile nostalgia for NYC was revived greatly by a recent exposure to Sex and the City, the movie, which I had watched only the night before. In any case, I was there to visit a friend and I was also there to do a little window shopping for home decor, as it was a time of transition for me, with my old roommate moving out and my new roommate moving in, all crammed packed into this weekend. So I had a grand old time time the city, it was nice to be away from Philadelphia and school.

Sunday, I woke bright and early, refreshed from a sleep that was almost comatose in its depth. (The traveling on Saturday and all the bright noise of NYC wore me out) Soon enough, I found myself pitching in to help my roommate move out. It was a funny dilemma when we had to maneuver a full size IKEA bed frame out our narrow doorway. We were like the three stooges and altogether, we carried the bedframe in and out of the doorway four different times in an effort to find the perfect angle. After many attempts, (perseverance won out here) we were able to just squeeze the bedframe out the door, not without some collateral damage to both the door and the bed, unfortunately. After that huge obstacle, everything else seemed like a piece of cake and we moved everything else out duly for the next hour and a half. The most incredibly annoying thing then occurred. When my roommate's friend was about to drive off, the truck battery went dead!! Then proceeded a series of going to Pepboys to find the jumper cables, oh no, it was too dead for the jumper cables to work their magic, then it was back to the store, to get a brand new battery. All in all, I stayed largely out of the drama, because I was meanwhile in my now empty apartment, putting together the table set from IKEA, haphazardly I might add. I had run out of steam and found it difficult to bolt in the screws and here I relied on my feminine wiles and a little sweet cajoling to get my wonderful boyfriend to finish the task. Really, he's such a darling, couldn't have done it all without him. So if you reading this, just know your help was very much appreciated, sweetums. =)

Shortly after my old roommate left, my new roommate popped in on the scene. It was literally, out with the old, in with the new in the brief time span of like 2 minutes gap. Very interesting and maybe that's why I'm finding it difficult to adjust a little. Before I even had time to get used to the idea of living with a different person, that person shows up and replaced my old roommate. It's all good though, it's just a matter of adjustment, kind of like a jet lag for roommate transitions.

So here I am, on a school day, somewhat in a semi-funk and not motivated to study. It's about getting into the groove and I know once I get on track, I'll be fine. What I should really look into is making an effort to do a cleaning process, that will probably be most helpful at this point.

Okay, just wanted to write a little and I hope to become a more constant blogger from now on, because it's a good way to exercise some creativity and it records, however subjectively, the events of my life as it unfolds. Thirdly, I've been reading these awesome and inspirational blogs that others have written. Of course, this blog is just a little personal avenue for me to rant and rave and prattle, but I find the idea of starting a blog that can help inspire others a very appealing one. But as I also learned recently (or relearned), I shouldn't bite off more than I can chew so I should probably first take an honest look at my current capacity and be careful not to exceed my abilities.

Tata for now!

Little Children

I stumbled on this film tonight by a stroke of good luck. It starred Kate Winslet, Jennifer Connelly and Patrick Wilson. I've only been exposed to Patrick Wilson since Angels in America, except for the fact that he has a receding hairline, he has an exceptionally Adonis-like face, the epitome of Western male beauty, almost, almost. But regardless, I was more captivated not by the looks of these stars, but by the storyline and the acting.

The scene stealer however would have to be Jackie Earle Haley, of whom I've never personally seen before, but in this particular movie, plays a sex offender, an adult male with serious psycho-sexual issues. I was blown away by the ending of the film, actually. It was heartbreaking, it was stunning, it was tragic on the level of the best of those Greek dramas.

The film's title "Little Children" is brilliant, as it offers a satirical reading on the film's characters, most of whom are ostensibly adults yet behave in ways that makes it clear that they are still very much, children.

I suppose I ought to provide a movie synopsis like any faithful fifth grader giving a book report, but I don't really want to. All I want to say (or gush) is that this film stirred something deep within me. I've always been of the mindset that there is nothing more repulsive and reviling than a man who has to expose himself in public, or do dirty things to little children. I guess I failed to consider that these are sick individuals who are probably aware of their problems, but have not been able to overcome them, as humans often are apt to do. I fail to see them in a more humanistic light. Though I admit, it's difficult for me to draw that line. I do think though that next time I want to pass tall judgments on anyone, I should take a second or so to rein myself in and see if I can adjust my thinking to become a better human being.

My sublime day in Philly

Yesterday, I arrived at a doctor’s office all spic and span in my little white coat, ready to play doctor. I was to be thrusted into the role of neophyte trainee for the next eight hours but to my surprise, I enjoyed the experience immensely. We saw a total of 7 or 8 women that day, each coming in with their unique problems and requests, but in my romanticized view perhaps, all were seeking a momentary solace in the doctor’s office from the pain and stresses of their everyday lives.

If I had to pinpoint what was so fun exactly about the experience, it is hard to pinpoint. I appreciated the trust and confidentiality that these women automatically offer up and the momentary glimpse into each of their lives. The doctor I shadowed is whip-smark, fast-talking and compassionate female practitioner. She reminds me of an old time cowboy, but instead of sharpshooting from her hips with smoking pistols, she dashes razor sharp beams from her eyes as she appraises you while her mouth goes off at 90 miles per minute, barely keeping up I’m sure with the rate of her neurons firing off the thoughts. To say I’m impressed by her intelligence would be an understatement. However I’m more impressed with the degree and dedication of her personal philosophy to the betterment of women, broadly and on an individual level.

She also put me to work too. I had to take histories of patients and then write up summaries. On occasion, I took blood pressure and looked up people’s noses. I made some glaring mistakes too. For instance, one patient who had just been in an auto accident comes in the second day and I failed to ask her one of the most basic questions anyone should ask of an automobile accident. Can anyone guess? It’s “Were you wearing a seatbelt?” I am definitely not a detail-oriented person, but hey, I’m working on it!

So at the end of the day, and it was a long one too, I walked away tired but happy, satisfied that I put in a good day’s work and that I was too busy the entire time to focus on my own pitiful problems or age old anxieties. But wait! My day was not even over. God had more pleasantries in store for me

In the evening, I went to this church in Philadelphia, dedicated to advancing the causes for the homeless, among its many philanthropic arms. I was to sit in on a focus group composed mainly of homeless men and discuss their opinions on health and what healthcare means to them individually. My word, I was in for a real treat. As fast as I could write (my job was to observe and record the contents of the focus group), I was dashing off 100 words/min as these people very passionately articulated their feelings about health and the state of healthcare in America today. One woman, the only one in the group, was particularly well spoken and commanded a real presence. She had a lot of really vindictive things to say about doctors. It was truly eye-opening. I felt that as a doctor in training, I am so fortunate to be hearing all this now, so that I can learn how to become a better physician when I do start practicing. The lady railed at everything from the physician not truly caring, the physician only interested in forming a nice, easily understandable picture in his/her mind, and the physician not respecting or seeing the patient as a true human being. She said doctors don’t look her in the eye, they can’t seem to even bring themselves to touch them on a human to human level, to showing caring in an unspoken way and to reserve their judgements, biases, self-perceived level of superiority and education. Such a disgrace! I can easily see many doctors behaving exactly as she had described.

Of course there are flip sides to the coin too. Many doctors are overworked and fatigued, whatever compassion they had as they entered medical school, bright eyed in that squirrelly manner has long since dimmed as they encounter the system for what it is. And a lot of physicians probably get disheartened once they realize how little of a difference they can truly make in a person’s health, when you take into account the whole person perspective, healthcare being so much more than just popping in a pill and downing it with water, in a timely manner.

So well, obviously this is not exactly going to be easy to sum up in a few short sentences. The issues brought up were complex and at times heart breaking. But after it was over, I reflected on how privileged I was, to be given a glimpse, (yet again), an intimate glimpse, in fact, to these people’s minds, thoughts, lives and personal, deeply personal stories. I’ve been reflecting for some time now on how everything is interconnected and everyone is connected to everyone else, but I felt that yesterday, by some divine force or grace, I was shown in a very powerful and real way how that is true. We are indeed all together in this. So to borrow a rather cheesy line from the show “Lost”, we either “live together, or we die alone.” And that can be interpreted on many many levels.

Dreaming of Bale

Had a fantastic dream last night, not so much in the content, but in the feelings that it aroused in me. I dreamt that I was Madonna’s adopted daughter, so I had money to spare. But more importantly, I was married to Christian Bale! And Christian Bale was talking to me about something, related to being careful, and he had this awful awful haircut with long jagged bangs. I looked at him as he was nagging me, and I affectionately swept his bangs to the side of his face to give him a more clean cut look. He smiles at me and I swooned terribly. I think that was the euphoric moment when I fell I love with him, in this obsessive way and was truly delighted to know that he was mine.

As for me, I was this awfully prissy girl, rich, spoiled, I had a ton of shoes and I didn’t seem to have a good handle on my life. Then Bale went missing, or he left, I wasn’t clear what happened, suffice to say, he disappeared from my line of sight. Then I had this project of looking through his old movies for “clues” and even the prospect of staring at him for hours on the screen delighted me and I was eager to begin.

Now, by this time, I had already awoken several times. But the dream had such a fascinating allure to me, that I kept insistently going back to sleep and as well as going back to the dream. So this was one of those times when I had fallen back into the dream, there was a bit of a disconnect, but the sequence went as follows.

I was trying to navigate my way around a building, with lots of tall steps and security. Doors were locked but I had the keys. I was at this one door and I knew this other man was coming up behind me and he was vaguely threatening. Perhaps I just didn’t want to talk to him. I fumbled with the keys, finally putting the key in the lock and opened the door. But I had to climb really high to get through the door and that delayed me further. I knew the man was closing in on me and truly, I didn’t know what threat he represented. But somehow I made it through the door and had it shut behind me. And I was relieved.

Next I encountered these ridiculous shoes, two of whom were falling apart, and I had to try a third one. It was plastic, with fur, it had blue and pink patterns, I guess I thought they looked awesome.

Next I was with a receptionist and I was struggling to grab a bag of money. Then I guess it dawned on me that I had money to burn as Madonna’s relative, and I threw the bag of money down and said, “what do I need money for?” The girl laughed too, in agreement and I shook my head and went out of the office.

Finally I met my man again. And I knew that if I had just a few minutes of alone time with him, I would make him fall irrevocably in love with me. I can’t be sure if he was Christian Bale still, but my level of delight at having him is such that I think he must have been Bale in my mind. Truly, I don’t remember being this obsessed with a movie star in quite some time.

Randy Pausch dies at age 47

Actually I apologize for making that somber announcement the title of this post, though I think it will be more of an attention grabber. The truth is, I don't intend to focus on his death at all, in the same way that Prof. Randy Pausch never did, even when he was in the active process of dying.

His last lecture, which has reached millions of people across the world, gave us all an opportunity to do a fascinating character study on this individual. He represents, in my mind, all that is best about America. This is not America of the 2000's, dark, somber, struggling with foreclosures and at the back of everyone's mind, the war in the Middle East, the perpetual terrible prospect of another terrorist hijacking haunting the corridors of every major airport security. No, he represents America at a simpler, happier time. What decade that is supposed to be beats me. Maybe it's more of an idea of America that he represents, but even so, that faint, delicate idea is enough, more than enough to change some people's lives forever.

Prof Pausch espouses creativity and individuality and tenacity to overcome hardships, but not in those tiresome nagging old words, repetitively droned into the children of America. We all know or think we know that it's a good thing to be those qualities. Dr. Pausch shows us a way, teaching by example, in effect. Make no mistake, there is no one way about things. HIs way will most definitely not be my way. Still, I can grasp to some limited extent, how wonderful it's all worked out for him and it wasn't necessarily any magic formula. It's all those cliches we've heard one too many times, but instead of being dismissive, he somehow made those cliches the foundation and structure of his life.

So this is my dedication to this sincere and impressive man and to another who preceded him, another favorite professor of mine, Dr. Morrie Schwartz, both had the tremendous burden of teaching and sharing their experiences in life, while in the process of dying. My hat's off to both you men.

Angels in America

I've only just recently picked up this HBO miniseries from the library to peruse in my spare time. I found the series surprising on multiple levels but ultimately, delightful.

First of all, I did not realize this was going to be about homosexuality. I am by no means anti-homosexuality, my surprise is due to the fact that one does not usually see this topic treated in greater depth within the mainstream fare, besides the token gay hairdresser dotting the cinematic landscape. Of course I have much to learn about the gay culture. For instance, the other day, I was informed of what the term "down low" meant, of which I had hitherto never been aware of its double entendre.

But back to the subject at hand - Angels in America is essentially a play that was adapted to film and it is somewhat evident in the way the film is directed that it is still very conscious of its play roots. I don't know if I can explain it adequately, but a lot of the scenes still have a stagey feel, and one can get most of the dramatic impact from viewing the scene from one perspective only. The characters do a fair share of moving around, but the camera was not as nimble.

That is all well and good, because in my opinion, the two most delightful qualities about this work are a> its dialogue between the characters and b> the sheer melodramatic weight that it brings forth at key moments in time. It was damned funny too, at certain moments, as when Roy Cohn (played by Al Pacino) fakes his death to one up a gloating dead nemesis ghost who is very likely conjured in his imagination. The acting was great, stellar, magnificent by all its cast, but I thought the words, those words, are truly brilliant and of a class that I've not encountered in a while in any movie or play.

So many times throughout the film, I was rapt, thinking, "That's amazing! Why have I never thought to phrase things like that?" I suppose it's the egomaniac in me speaking, always wishing I could spit out brilliant phrases as casually as breathing, but it's also my genuine appreciation for literary prowess, of which Tony Kushner displayed to full glory in this masterpiece.

I would be in remiss if I don't actually try to give a summary of this story (spoiler alert), for those who happen to read this post. So few visit these days, so perhaps it doesn't even matter. sniff... Okay, enough self-pitying for now. So, the story is as follows. A gay Jewish man finds out his lover, a beautiful WASP, descended from a grand and noble lineage, has AIDS. He is horrified, understandably so, and struggled to be there for him. In a parallel story, a young Mormon lawyer married and living in NYC, struggles with his own hidden sexual identity and ultimately decides to confront it openly. His wife, with a history of abuse at home, is now a grown woman with emotional issues and is addicted to Valium. She has also perhaps been long aware of her husband's lack of desire for her and struggled to come to terms with the truth as well. The third story is of an aging Jewish lawyer, very vitriolic and hateful but still formidable. He also comes down with AIDS. The three stories, at first seemingly disconnected, intertwined ultimately in a very satisfying way.

The great thing is, all these people with their significant issues and problems and angst managed to not come across as a drag, a bore, a party pooper, or just plain depressing. Even at their worst, there is something delightful in the way they try to reason their way out of their miseries and bumble and stumble about, lost, confused, talking to imaginary friends.

It's poignant, it's touching, it's funny and it's sad, but the story triumphantly paints a picture of real human beings, not postcard characters, flat and glossy.

I am thankful of being reminded yet again what happens when several major talents (literary, dramatic, production and packaging) intersect successfully at a point in space, the result? An explosion of fireworks that gave birth to a story that will forever have at least one devoted and captivated fan from yours truly.

Taiwan, my homeland

Every now and then I get a stab of sharp nostalgia for my homeland, a place half constructed out of my own unfulfilled fantasies and half from real experiences. For instance when I listen to the radio station online Voice of Taipei, Mandarin voices accented in that distinctive Taiwanese way fill the air and flood my eardrums. Simultaneously, feelings of homesickness would wash over me. Homesickness? My home is here, what exactly am I yearning for?

I think this is my primordial memory. I was born there after all, and was listening to voices like that since from the womb. From the age of 0 to 5 too, that was my entire universe. Moving to America was not nearly as traumatic as it might have been for many other immigrant children precisely because I was still so young and also because I was always coccooned safely within my family. Nonetheless, I am beginning to suspect that this displacement was still fairly traumatic on some subconscious level.

It's also true of course that the grass is greener on the other side of the pasture. While I am here in the US, I experience the good and the bad. Whereas when I think of Taiwan, my lovely Taipei, all I can recall are such things like sumptious night market delicacies, beautiful gossamer bakeries, bright and inviting department stores filled to the brim with cute outfits, even the ever familiar and to me, near and dear to my heart, the hawkings of the local vendors.

Knowing all this however does not dampen my longing to visit and stay once again, in the country of my birth.

All by myself in the library

I have an urge to break out into a dirge and sing "All by myself" as I sit by my lonely self in the library in the dead of the night. Well friends, I guess I really asked for it though. I've been slacking on neuroscience and the exam is in 28 hours, so I am slogging through 2 weeks of medical school neuro material in 48 hours.

Actually on a brighter side, it's nice and quiet and bright and I can do almost anything I want in this big old room, that always seemed so tiny by day.

Yawn, I AM getting a little tired...but I am determined to stay here til 5:30 AM. That's when it's light out and it's "safe" to venture out again. Hehe, I know I'm being silly but I've already decided on staying and studying to this hour and so I shall.

Excuse me while I began my little operetta to myself...