Student ID and other adventures

it's a sign that you've been in the medical school building too much when you go to grab your school ID card to swipe to get in your front door at home.

[right now i'm listening to wierd trombone music: "U-tangia"--crazy organ with wailin' bone in the twilight zone. http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/B0000016KC see sample track #9]

last saturday I went to the Oregon Symphony--it was awesome! they have student tix for $10 an hr before the concert. I tried to get someone to come with me to no avail, so I decided to go anyways and just as I was at the ticket counter pulling out my student ID this older lady at the ticket counter was trying to give a ticket to the cashier and turned to me and said, "you wouldn't happen to be a student would you?"
"Well yes I am," I said holdling up my ID badge for some reason.
"Here you go, but you'll have to sit by me" and she slapped a ticket into my hands. Her son wasn't able to go at the last minute, and she wanted to donate the ticket to a student. What perfect timing, and it was an awesome seat, right on the floor level midway back (a $53 ticket!). The concert was fabulous--it had been a long time since I had been to the symphony. So CLASSICAL MUSIC + GENEROSITY = a great evening.

[followed by trombone in agony with motorcycle noises "Concerto For Trombone And Orchestra (Motorbike Concerto): Fifth Movement: Finale]

This week in gross lab...it's been well, on the very interesting but awkward at times. Enough said since any more details might be distasteful. We're also learning how to do parts of the physical exam--we listened to lungs and hearts this week, which is a little hard to get used to in small groups since we have to practice on our peers. But it's cool that we're beginning to learn all this stuff. Key word--ALL. There is so much to learn! But I love it.

Holding life in your hands

This week we had our first anatomy test--whew! I was very happy with my scores too, which is good, and our lab table actually got 1 pt extra credit for doing a good job dissecting (we were quite amazed).

On Tuesday we began our new region of the body which I'm sure will hold many suprises in it (thorax and abdomen). This week in particular we focused on the lungs and heart. The night before our dissection of the heart I had this awe-striking feeling that I was going to be holding the life-center and what we call the seat of our emotions (even though physiologically it's somewhere in the brain) in my hands. And I did--it was so fascinating. I had dissected a pig-heart in high school which was very cool, but this--playing heart surgeon basically--was crazy. Our Father has made us fearfully and wonderfully. I mean, that little fist-sized pump has to last you at least 60 beats/min EVERY minute EVERY hour EVERY day EVERY year of your life. That is one machine made to last. It's the first organ to be formed and functional--you have a primitive circulatory system/heart at 20 days after conception!! If that isn't amazing...I don't know what is.

One thing I noticed about myself this week was having the "I do" syndrome. What I mean is that when the visiting heart surgeons were in lab helping with dissections (and they seemed eager to start cutting) I felt this rush to want to put my hands in it like a little kid and say, "No, I DO." I wanted to be the one cutting, not watching, which can be a dangerous desire when you don't know what you're really doing. Maybe you know what I mean: sometimes when you ask for help you want guidance, not someone to do it for you because you're learning (though there are some situations where it's opposite). Of course, I didn't say that to the surgeons--they graciously offered us their time for free and I was happy they were there. I could just tell that some of them really wanted in on the action too which I understand!

So the mailman has to try to stuff my mail through the door old-school style (a slit) and it always makes lots of noise. Yesterday it startled me out of a nap in the recliner, and today it got me again--but what a wonderful suprise! My mom has been sending me notes of encouragement (and misplaced mail) and goodies. I think it's a record--3 mailings in one week! Mom and Dad just bought me a couple CDs from a worship group at their church--yay! (Thanks you guys...)

Which brings me to other wierd noises that wake me up. Like how at 5am the sprinklers in the front sidewalk go off outside my room window "sphish-chk-chk-chk". Or the extremely loud bus that stops and rolls by and spews toxic fumes "VaROOOMM". Nonetheless, I am very glad I have the apartment I do--and I'm sure my neighbors don't always appreciate the wierd trombone sounds coming from my apartment...

When they don't give you a fork, get creative

This week was a little roller coaster-ish, but I learned some valuable lessons like what to do if a takeout place doesn't give you a fork and that in Christ we're never alone even though it sometimes feels like it. So if you read my last entry, I was feeling kind of isolated in my med school small group which talks about issues in clinical practice. Well--it happened again this week that I would have opportunity to raise my hand again and speak a word for Christ. I don't know why I've had so many opportunities so far, I just figure God has a reason for me being here. It reminds me of this passage in 1 Peter which I recently heard in a sermon about the trial of our faith being like gold going through the fire and coming out purer. But I also had a chance to talk with one of my new friends about Jesus over lunch--in a relational way, meaning that I was able to listen and ask questions and not feel like I had to punch the gospel in one fell swoop. Rather, I felt that perhaps God has been pursuing her (like He does to us all), and that I could return to the prayer of "Lord, help me to enter into what you are already doing in this person's life" that I have tried but often forgotten to pray and put into practice.

Which brings me to another subject. I went to a church recently and talked with someone about looking for a Christian community within medical school. With that, this person went into schpeel of stern warning of the dangers of "college" and college "Christian" groups to the "real" faith, and forming friendships with nonChristians and non-likeminded Christians, and I knew in some degree what he was talking about because people can get messed up and confused with all that's out there. But I piped in about how my experience at college had been the opposite--that I had grown so much in my faith through it and how important it was to form relationships with people both Christians and non Christians. I think what really got me was when he said that the point of the Gospel was "to bring people to the doctrine."
"It's to bring people to relationship with Jesus" I quickly said.
"Well, that IS the doctrine. Belief in Jesus' teachings is what we bring them to--repentance, forgiveness, deliverance..."
"But it's a relationship..." and with that I knew that we weren't on the same wavelength. I realize that I was talking to a real Christian man and I do agree that we have to believe in Jesus to be saved. But it just went to show me how easy it is to reduce Christianity to a set of bullet points rather than a live and active relationship with Jesus. Christianity can be the kind where sharing the gospel is more like getting someone to sign a contract of beliefs than introducing a Person to them. Which is EXACTLY what I was trying to tell my friend this week--that it wasn't so much about following rules (although that comes out of a relationship with Christ) but that it was about a RELATIONSHIP with Jesus.

So enough with the diatribe. On a lighter note...
I had an adventure today after I went to church at a place called "Imago Dei." On a side note, the church reminded me a lot of UCF--even the pastor had a gottee like Greg our campus pastor (well, not quite like it. Greg has a gotee long enough to braid and this guy didn't). So I have a rice cooker, and this last week I made a traditional Chinese egg and tomato dish, but it still didn't taste like the real thing (maybe I was missing some ginger?). When I eat rice, I like to eat with chopsticks even though most people use forks (ever notice that Chinese restaurants will give you a fork unless you ASK for chopsticks?). It makes it seem more Chinese. So here's the funny thing. Today I went with a friend to a Chinese restaurant and as we left I said, "Zaijian"-- the lady at the counter laughed, asked me if I spoke Chinese (which I replied with "very little"), and we talked for a little bit about where I had been in China and where she was from (Guangdong). I love talking to Chinese people about China--they always seem to smile and are happy that you would care to travel there. So then we left to take our food to eat at a nearby park. But when we got there we realized they hadn't given us ANY forks or chopsticks or napkins! We didn't want to go back and we couldn't eat it with our fingers very well. This necessitated being creative. I then picked up some sticks off the ground (there were plenty!) and I used mine as chopsticks! My friend didn't know how to use chopsticks so he just took one stick and stabbed his meat. Go figure.

Say "CHEESE"

What a weekend! The family came up on Saturday night to my apartment and crashed--all 5 + 1 of them. It was so fun and ridiculous--people sprawled all over the floor, the door wide open with the screen shut to keep the air flowage, 7:1= people:bathroom. Of course us girls had to get in our chit-chat in whispers so Mom and Dad could get some rest. On Sunday the family (minus Derek who visited a friend) journeyed out west to Tillamook and on to Oceanside to hang out at the beach. At Tillamook we went to the cheese factory, of course, mostly for the samples of cheese and other goodies. And there were a lot of people with the same idea! We had a rousing pizza lunch and drove out to Cape Meares where there's a cool lighthouse you can go up in and the "Octopus Tree". Dad was so thrilled that we were visiting places of his childhood. We girls had fun taking goofy pictures (most close-ups of our eyeballs) and enjoying the views. At the beach we took naps and Dad had the courage and stamina to charge the frigid ocean waters and boogie board. Of course, we also to travel through the rock tunnel that goes through the cliff to another little beach. There were these little holes in the wall to the outside, big enough for your arm. So when we came out, us girls came first with Dad and mom behind--a perfect opportunity to scare them silly by sticking my arm in the hole from the outside and grabbing them as they went past. Except they didn't come! So I ended up sticking my arm in this hole for probably 15 min, waiting patiently (or not!) while other people passed through with curious looks. Finally I nabbed them unexpectedly as they came past. Mom freaked. SCORE!
We drove home rockin out to Steven Curtis Chapman's "Great Adventure" and grabbed some dinner fixin's to bring home. About a half hour after they left to drive back up north, I got a call from Jess that "the adventure continues"--they had gotten a flat tire in the left lane of the freeway! And the van had been so full with stuff that Dad had to unload just to deal with it. Thank the Lord that they made it to safety to fix the tire and that a state trooper was able to help them out.

Did you know how much lives in your armpit?

Well, it's been a week since I've posted so here goes...

This week in classes we learned about the axillary fossa a.ka. armpit and all the essential structures that live there e.g. brachial plexus (containing the nerves that move your arm and hands), major arteries and veins, and lots o' fat. We also began to dissect the arm--this may seem strange, but when we uncovered the hands and had to move them around, it really disturbed me, probably because, like our faces, they animate us--we talk with them, touch with them, besides all the things we do with them. I'm beginning to see the cadaver more as a person--at first it was a coping mechanism to only focus on the mechanics of the task, but now as I look at other cadavers, I begin to see their stories from the inside out: the women with masectomies or implants, the sternal wires from those with open heart surgery, the broken rib from doing chest compressions.

We also began our clinical course this week--"Principles of Clinical Medicine" which will teach us our basic clinical skills and bring up issues of ethics, the healthcare system, life and dying, etc. This week we had a panel of docs tell us about the patient-physician relationship, including a story of a JW woman who refused a blood transfusion. Afterwards, in our small group discussion, the facilitator asked whether any of us had religious beliefs that prevented us from receiving certain kinds of healthcare. Although I was a bit suprised that he would outright ask that question, I raised my hand and said that my beliefs wouldn't allow abortion, certain stem cell procedures, or physician-assisted sucicide. Though I wish I was more eloquent in how I said it, I was suprised also that no one else volunteered their beliefs--a few said what they grew up as (Catholic or Jewish), but no one claimed them as their own beliefs. A few people who were in a previous small group with me had already been exposed to the importance of faith to me. I really hope that people are not forming quick stereotypes--but what else could I do? I couldn't deny my faith by staying silent. It reminds me of my interview for this school--I had a discussion with my interviewer of my faith and told him plainly that I had firm beliefs and valued integrity and my faith, but was also happy and willing to listen and dialogue with others from different belief systems or none at all. I had no idea that this statement would be tested so soon.

Another interesting tidbit is that in the readings they included the Oath of Maimonides "Prayer for the Physician" (year 1135-1204) and in the World Medical Association Declaration of Geneva the words include, "I will maintain the utmost respect for human life, from the time of conception". However, when we took the oath of Geneva--we did not have the italic words included. Curious...