Sometimes I do stupid stuff

As a brilliantly ironic contrast to the post directly below, I was riding my bike yesterday to go pick up my truck, when I suddenly felt my back tire lose traction and begin to skid this way and that. I was already pulling off to the side, but had little control and subsequently hit a curb and went flying off. No injuries were incurred.

I was going so fast because I was racing against the clock to get to the transmission shop before they closed. The transmission shop is about 5 miles from my house, and I had no intention of walking all the way home empty-handed, so I started running... to the wrong address. Breathless, I called the shop and asked for directions. A mere 10 blocks to the north they were, so I started running again. Fortunately, the guy on the other end of the line said he would wait for me to get there. Clary's Transmission: I salute you.

To add to the further irony, it took a $2 part to fix my transmission, but the total bill for diagnostics, shop time and replacing the fluids was well in the 3 digit range. It's moments like these that make the moments below that much sweeter.

Sometimes I do cool stuff

For the full walkthrough of the trip, please see Dave Brown's account of the Kaleetan Peak summit. In brief, it was an awesome trip, although the snow was less-than-desirable at times. The picture is from the descent from Kaleetan Peak (close to the Alpental ski resort) as we passed through Malakwa Pass. I was really freakin' sore the next day, but moments like this make it all worthwhile:

My To-Do List of Blogdom

My blog (who I will henceforth refer to as "Harvey") has underlying goals to which it aspires and meets to varying degrees depending on the author's energy level and creativity:

• P - Provoke thought
• I - Inspire
  
• B - Be funny
• I - Illuminate my world to the masses

Harvey does a better job of this when there are interesting things going on in my life. Unfortunately, many of the interesting things are not suitable for publication because they may evoke unintended reactions in those who observe Harvey. To achieve PIBI today, Harvey will wax upon the subject of "What Ross Did Today."

Still being tired, from getting up at hours suitable only for roosters and yuppies, and sore, from putting 2,500 feet of elevation on my legs, I slept in. My truck has been having reversing difficulties. The mechanic informed me that the problem could be two things which differ mostly by a decimal place or two in the bill. Upon PIBI analysis: Not challenging, inspiring, maybe slightly funny, but mostly illuminatory.

Most of my day, I spent at The Blue Dog Kitchen, attempting to study, but I ended up planning Spring Break and buying 3 books:

• Rod Machado's Private Pilot Handbook: The Ultimate Private Pilot Book
• Gleim's 2008 Private Pilot Written Exam Guide
• The Hipster Handbook

I'm getting excited about Spring Break, but will not allow Harvey to speak of such plans until they are official. Hopefully, part of it will entail studying for ground school and then starting my flight training this summer. P-, I-, B-, I+

This blog is failing to do little more than tell you about my day and plans.

And actually, I'm going to be late meeting Ted at the rock gym if I try to add anything inspirational or provocative. I am henceforth abandoning the PIBI system and will now stop referring to my blog as "Harvey."

What a random entry.

Priorities

We had an interesting discussion in class today revolving around the idea of a system of financial compensation for excellence in providing health care. We had a lengthy discourse on the "fight for justice" paradigm, this idea that if I've EARNED something, I'd better get what I've earned. Everyone was squabbling about how to insure that no one who didn't deserve their reward got it.

In one of my more abrasive moments, I challenged our class to aspire to more than merely working for the payday, but to be motivated by altruism and sacrificial giving. We must renew our minds now so that when confronted with a choice, we naturally react by nature of our virtue. I got a mixed response, varying between those demanding that a lucrative salary was a great reason to be a physician and those who were visibly stirred to think that there is something more to life than "getting their just desserts."

It really made me reflect on authenticity and honesty with one's self. It's a question I've asked myself before and will ask many times again: If I really believe what I say I believe, what practical choices will I make?

If I say I care most about loving my patients, I won't care about how well I'm compensated so long as I earn enough to continue to love my patients.

If I say I care most about getting what I deserve, I will do everything I can to protect and promote myself and do nothing that hinders me getting mine.

Just expressing the first of those dichotomous viewpoints brings over me a rush of peace and Godly wisdom, the principle of freely giving because I have freely received. The second reeks of futility, greed and frustration, characterized by a life lived surrounded by others, but alone.

It took some encouragement from one of my dear friends to get the ball rolling in class today, further confirming the importance of community in my life. I wasn't sure it would go over too well, and with some, it didn't. However, as class ended, several of my classmates approached me with gratitude for expressing what needed a voice.

We are surrounded by a great number of allies, no matter what our position, who will encourage and support us if only we will rise to the occasion.

Reminiscing

I've spent the last 30 minutes or so reading over some of my old posts. I could almost taste the curry in Siem Riep, feel the bites of the bed bugs in Phnom Penh and see the smiles of my friends as we lounged at Amok. A long night of laying on a wooden mat contrasts sharply with the luxurious bed that I will sleep in tonight. Dreams of 50 cent noodle plates and glasses of Angkor beer give way to $10 burgers and $4 pints.

A 90 dollar CT for a dying child and a 180 dollar coat for an outdoor enthusiast.

A day of mending deformed faces and a day of listening to the mechanisms of the intrinsic clotting pathway.

A 3 hour bus ride to a fishing village to work in a clinic and a morning listening to a patient tell her story.

An endless day by the bedside of my best friend and an endless night absorbing pages upon pages.

Life measured by constant surprises and unknown horizons and life predictable, yet imposing.

Undecipherable foreign jabber and complex guarded conversation.

The green, the stone, the sea and the green, the clouds, the buildings.

Dust blown in my face by the countless sea of motos and wind blown in my face as I navigate the city.

Poverty at every turn and the homeless with their empty stares.

Clambering orphans with incessant chatter and the people of cell phones, oblivious to the world.

A seat on a bus, bound for the horizon and a seat on a bus, bound for downtown.

A borrowed computer, barely responsive and borrowed internet, efficient and impatient.

Captures of a life lived. Parades of the past and possibilities for the future.

Sentiments of sacrifice. Joy at the return to haphazard paradise.

A Trip to the ER

I realized today that I've told this story multiple times in person, but have neglected to inform the world at large of my exploits, so here goes.

It all started in our PBL group (that is, Problem Based Learning) when we got a case centering around a "curbside" consult which is medicalese for professional courtesy, or more simply put, free health care because you happen to be in the club. The issue was raised: is this case centered in reality, or is it merely pop fiction that docs can get free care from other docs. I took that issue home as a "learning objective."

My learning objective took me to Smallville Hospital ER [names have been changed to protect the victims]. I cased the joint. Up front was an administrative assistant, who are usually pretty sharp and able to keep the riffraff from getting to the docs. I almost knocked on the back entrance so a janitor I had spied would let me in, but figured she might sound the alarm. Then it came to me: the security guard. A venerable spot in the defenses.

"Excuse me sir, I'm a second year medical student and I need to speak with an ER doc. Is there any way you could let me in?"

After a little finagling, I was past the first obstacle.

A complication! The security guard didn't just let me into the ER to wander about aimlessly, but escorted me to the physicians' desk. As I stood there awkwardly, he explained that I had a question for one of the ER docs. I willed him to go away, but he was impervious to my mind control. So I suspiciously leaned down with my back to the guard, only to be met with a startling,
"Is this a personal health question?"

from the ER doc of choice. Yikes! I wasn't the first with this idea. Not one to be perturbed, I pressed on.

"Kind of. I've actually been fasting for several days and I'm worried about my ketone levels causing kidney damage. Is there any way I could get a urine dipstick."

Here's the shocking part. Without a pause:

"Can you do it yourself?"

Not a "Get out of here kid." No hint of "Your behavior is completely out of line." And definitely no nod toward security to dispose of me properly.

My response: "Sure!" And the doc: "Let's get you a dipstick."

Now my assignment was to find out if a medical professional could actually get lab tests done without being an official patient, so my work was done. I sheepishly explained that I didn't actually need the test and mumbled something about it being an assignment for a class before I took my nervous, sweaty self off the premises. I don't think the doc was too impressed with my covert op skills, but neither seemed too put off at my imposition on his time (for which I expressed my gratitude).

Is this a sad commentary on our medical system? Nah, I think it's pretty cool that we haven't become so bureaucratic as to totally abandon professional courtesy. Medicine seems like a pretty tight-knit group at times.

I'm so in.