I want to get a handle on this material. I want to understand. I want to get into a groove and have something make sense. Be good at something. I’m so… lost.

Everyone has these struggles, trying to find their place, searching for meaning and a sense of self. I just never imagined I’d be this close to 30 and so ill-defined. And arbitrary. The worst part is thinking I get it one day and realizing I don’t the next. It’s not like I have no insight.

I’m pretty good at discerning the problem. The fix… is a little more difficult.

The good news is that if I make it through this doctor school thing, I might be good at making the diagnosis, and the treatment will, in most cases, be some formula. Anyone have a pill for getting me through the basic sciences so I can get there?

This will be brief. I have to go study. Specifically, I need to leave the area of the LRC in which I am sitting because I have no clue what the people around me are talking about, and I should.

Speaking of entertaining, I had my check-up ultrasounds this morning. When the very nice tech had done her part, the radiologist came in and did a quick scan, turning the monitor toward me and pointing out all the basics. He encouraged a radiology elective later. It was quite awesome. As I have said before, I am very impressed with MD Anderson. It’s like a fairy tale land where absolutely everyone is a shining example of kindness.

My appointment was well-timed, even though I have no recollection of making the appointment. (And actually I only did the scans and bloodwork today; I had to reschedule the doctor part for a day when I don’t have class.) I left there and went to my anatomy clinical correlate: obstetrics. What I caught of it was quite interesting, and he talked about ovarian cancer. He said there have been no advancements in the detection of it since the pelvic exam, and that if you get a diagnosis of metastatic ovarian cancer, you better get your affairs in order. Mine wasn’t metastatic, of course, but I did get the heebies.

At lunch time a nephrologist spoke at our internal medicine meeting. If I were in this to make an ass-ton of money, I’d have my specialty all lined up, from what he said anyway. In the afternoon I practiced the abdominal exam with a standardized patient. That’s always fun and very helpful.

I came home a little earlier than usual these days to a sweet and happy Zoe and a tasty crock pot roast by Julie. As far as I know Zoe didn’t fuss all evening.

Tonight I’m feeling quite lucky and grateful. That’s a good mood to be in before reading a few lectures and tucking in to bed.

I finally got a tutor. My classmates are so smart and very helpful, but it isn’t their job to teach me. I’m slow. I need extra help. I shouldn’t be weighing my friends down - they could be rock stars. So I accessed the tutors that the school provides at no additional cost to us. This way I won’t be spending so much time trying to figure out why my classmates get it and why I don’t. Anything beyond what specific processes they’re doing that I’m not should not be of concern to me. I need to put those thoughts out of my mind and focus on understanding the material.

I met with my tutor today for all classes but biochem (I have a different one for that). She was really great and seemed to confirm that I’m on track for this block. We met in the library. I haven’t frequented the library proper much since school started since we have the LRC, but it was nice to be amongst the book smell and all the lifetimes of knowledge while I took in a comparatively small amount of material.

With a productive tutoring session under my belt, a plan for studying all the material for the next few weeks, and a standardized patient tomorrow (abdomen exam), I’m pretty excited about this week. Now if Zoe will just go to bed we can get this party started. And by party I mean going to sleep myself.

One of my favorite assignments was at CapRock Communications. I’m not sure I ever could say with any certainty what it is that the company does, and for a time I think they were defunct, but don’t quote me. That’s the beauty of temp work: I really have no obligation to know what they do. My employer was Dicker Staffing, I followed the rules and worked earnestly wherever I was, and in general I think it was a symbiotic relationship for everyone involved.

My job was to answer phones. If you’ve ever seen Office Space (and if you haven’t, why not, and how do you face every day?) and noticed the girl answering the phones for corporate accounts payable, you know what I did. Instead of “CorporateaccountspayableNinaspeaking…JUST a MOH-ment!” I said, “CapRock Communications, how may I help you?” approximately 800 times per day. (At Eckerd I had time to say, “Thank you for calling Eckerd Pharmacy. This is Blake. How my I help you?”)

You might think this would be boring. It totally wasn’t. They required a break 10 minutes of every hour, and I always relieved someone doing some other job at lunch time. The economy was better then, and I was there to make life easier.

There was a lady in the room with me answering phones, too. She liked to listen to 107.5 The Oasis, Smooth Jazz. I’ve thought of Patricia often and I’m grateful that she introduced me to this station, though as sometimes happens in radio*, it has gone away. Still, every time I hear Al Green, Marvin Gaye, Roberta Flack, anything Motown, I think of how I might have missed out big time without her influence.

I mean that is some great music. So many artists are sampling from or remaking it. And these kids today don’t even know.

*Remember when 94.5 was The Edge, and now it’s 102.1, which was Q102 before JackFM? And 94.9 was Y95? And 99.1 Z-Rock? And how 97.1 KEGL went away and now it’s back? And how now I live in Houston so I should probably stop following DFW stations?

Also, we need more pictures together - how do I have so few?

As her birthday falls during NaBloPoMo, I hope she won’t mind if I digress for the purpose of a post, and because if I get sappy in person she hates it.

I knew Rachel and I would be friends on the first day of the pre-entry program. We chatted from the get-go, and when we merged two groups together (after breaking up for tours or something), I was just about to ask her how her day was going, when she asked me how mine was going.

Rachel is a driving force in my education and a solid friend who both recognizes and tolerates my true crazy. Where else would I get my Northern expression exposure? My favorites: pop (for soda), bag (pronounced “beeag”), and bun (for roll, or any bread you eat on the side of a meal).

For this birthday girl I went to a bar, so you know she’s special.

There has been no other vomit since last night. Zoe was her usual charming self, even playing peekaboo with our interviewee guest this evening. I spent a whole 10 minutes at the interview social tonight when I went to retrieve said guest. Yay me.

I have a lot to say. Today we had a Global Health Initiative lecture on malnutrition and other problems affecting children around the world. Major bum out. I mean major. It made me want to hug Zoe and never let her go. I’m so thankful that she does not know such things. At the same time, I want to hold all those kids and fix it for them. My heart hurts for them. The pediatrician who spoke said a few times that there’s ONE child in the world. I think that’s true, and especially once you’re a parent. I know that I will use my career to be part of the solution to these problems. That’s the good news. I can help a little bit some day. In the mean time, I feel pretty ineffective and helpless.

It makes me think about why it is that we’re here and they’re there, and not just in any particular geographic location. Kids in this country are born every day. Some go home to capable parents who can feed and love them and keep them safe, while others go to an environment to face atrocities most of us never even imagine. And that’s here. In other countries - war, true poverty, disease, hunger… I’ll never know what puts them there and why. There is no satisfactory answer. Only that it has to change.

There are stages I go through (and probably true for many people), much like grief, when I visit the world’s problems in thought - shock (They’re LIVING LIKE THIS?!), anger (How could this happen? Who is responsible?!), bargaining (Maybe I can adopt all those kids, send money, build a hospital or school…), and extreme sadness. Eventually I get busy enough to be distracted and become complacent, because let’s face it - otherwise I’m a big Debbie Downer, and I’m essentially shaking tiny fists at the Universe. But I will not reach acceptance. There can be no acceptance.

This should serve as a reminder for me to talk about my philosophy about the differences in thought that forms attitudes toward social policy… It’s too late tonight.

The verdict? Not all baked snack crackers are created equal.

I found the nearly full box on my desk when I got home last night, a big circled “F” written in Sharpie on the front. How bad can they be? I asked. The expiration date is May 2009. I sampled one.

At first bite, they’re crispy, salty, a little less cheesy than Cheez-It, but not entirely unpleasant. Give it about 10 seconds. Then it becomes apparent that you’re experiencing first hand a failed attempt to make off-brand Play-Doh edible. The aftertaste is horrendous. I mean truly awful. I’m pretty sure it’s the worst thing I’ve ever eaten.

As I write this, Joel is staging a hilarious photoshoot. I imagine Market Pantry had a different expectation for their product’s placement.