He Means Well, But Fails In Execution

Yeah I think I need to change this blog's title to "Things I'm Too Uptight to Admit On My Other Blog". That's pretty much its purpose. With that said, here are some pearls.

I get self-conscious when hugging people I know or can guess have implants. I'm always afraid I'm going to pop them. I pull back. Also, just in general, when hugging people it's good not to just go smashing right into their boobs. I find this helps keep you out of harm's way.

My hands sweat a lot in the summer, not so much in the winter. I wonder why this is. It can't be just the heat because I stay in A/C or heated areas a lot. Just, word to the wise, if you're a chick and you want to have me gallop down your love-trail, wait til the winter time - I sweat way less.

Increasingly I have these fantasies of leaving Medical School and trying my hand at other things (things that include Mandy Moore). These are just fantasies for two reasons: (a) I owe >$70k, leaving all other career opportunities sorely lacking (b) I'm pretty sure I want to be a really good doctor. It's the "pretty good" part that ignites the fantasies. Being a "pretty good" doctor seems to take a lot of work and a lot of time - time I could be spending doing other more enjoyable, less meaningful things - like sleeping for instance, or lying around, or watching daytime TV. Of course, that all sounds great, but I'll bet doing it day in and day out would get old. Like reading mommy blogs.

It seems to me impossible to judge whether you'll like medicine at all after the first two years of school. It seems like I won't be able to accurately judge until the third year's rotations. That seems a little late to be making that decision. Oh well. Se la vis.

Yesterday I read Becca's blog about her experience at Southwestern and I got to thinking about how different our two schools are. Her experience with actually clinical patients is new and exciting and fresh, and based upon a somewhat deep knowledge base, whereas mine was exciting and fresh when I had no knowledge, and now it seems old hat to interview people, take histories, do physicals, examine genitals, poke unknowingly at breasts and penii. It's also strange the amount of joy she seems to derive from being stuck in the middle of her class, in her words. I'm stuck in the middle of mine, and I feel so... aloof. Like I want so much to break ahead, but I know the steps required to get me there will make me horribly uncomfortable and alienated from the "me" I've known all these years. It's sick.