Eat, Sleep, run/lift, Study, Repeat

Cthulu vs the weather

2012-01-21T10:14:00.002-05:00

I seem to be coming into conflict with forces I largely cannot control lately (ie. large roach hoardes). This time it was the formidable call schedule as well as the weather. Unfortunately, in this driving snow storm I am on call for the entire weekend.

My day already started off on the wrong note. Within seconds after leaving my apartment, I realized I had locked myself out. This may be the first time in easily 7 years that I have done this. In any other situation, I would have gone to work and called the super later to let me back in. This time however was different. My key to the call room was on that key ring. I thought back to when I was in college and locked myself out and the hilarity that ensued. I broke open my window of my apartment and climbed in. Actually, I initially opened the window of the apartment next door by accident and caught a girl in a state of undress accidentally. Looks like this was going to be round 2 of self-burglary.

I committed burglary on my own apartment. I slipped off my jacket, pried open my window and climbed in. My keys were sitting on the kitchen counter and I slipped out the front door. I pray that nobody saw me breaking and entering and realized how insecure my windows are. I may have to lock them now. I already am cursing the fact that I am working all weekend instead of sleeping late and doing my customary baking of cookies or muffins when it snows. I am not looking forward to the parade of homeless drunks who undoubtedly will be waiting in the ER trying to get out of the cold for a few days.

At least I will not be on medicine for 4 months after this rotation. I will be filling in all of the other FP rotations. Until next time, everyone stay safe.

Cthulu vs the call room roaches, New Year's too

2012-01-02T13:40:00.003-05:00

Looks like it is time for another "Cthulu vs" post. Since moving to Brooklyn all those years ago, I have begun my never-ending war against all of insect-kind. Since then it seems as though I am a magnet for roaches and big ones. When I first saw them in my old Brooklyn apartment, I wondered if relatives of mine snuck in at night. They were big, ugly and made my skin crawl the same way. As I learned my last night on call in my hospital, my call room is infested with these magnificent bastards.

It was approaching midnight and I was sipping on Red Bull when it happened. It was a shape I saw out of the corner of my eye. I recognized it from its sheer speed, just like in my Brooklyn days. I did not think, I just reacted. I grabbed the nearest heavy object, in this case a ream of paper and threw it onto my new unwanted visitor. "Die you fat, ugly bastard!!" came out of my mouth before I even remembered I was saying it to nobody. I jumped onto the ream of paper to insure the death of my new un-friend. When I took the paper off the floor, I was shocked to see he was still alive. Before I could react, he ran under a desk and up the wall onto the ceiling. He now evaded the grasp of even the tentacles of the almighty Cthulu. I called maintenance.

Me: Hi there is a roach on my ceiling that I can't reach. It resembles some of my cousins. It is big and ugly.

Janitor: You want me to knock him off the ceiling?

Me: Yes!! Make sure he can't get back up there too. Have you seen these in other places here?

Janitor: Yeah, place is crawling with them.

After a small struggle with Rufus the water bug, he was knocked off the ceiling and executed. "Keep the change you filthy animal" was my next one-liner. Luckily, my shift had no other acute events and I left that morning. I needed to rest up for a party on a boat.

I was surprised by a friend and was pointed in the general direction of a boat for New Year's. It was a new experience for me and I wanted to try it at least once. What made it more interesting was the company I was in for this escapade. It was mostly French people. It made me almost regret taking Spanish in high school instead of French. Of course, the only other time I said the same thing was when I did go to Paris. I have learned the French require a subtlety which I never possessed. Nevertheless, it was fun to be on the Hudson to watch the fireworks with my Jack and Coke in hand. In a compliment to France, they do know how to party.

This year will be more fun than the last few. For an introvert, I have done well. I have managed to carve out a nice life since I came back to the east coast. I still do require my "recharge time" as any other introvert does though. I am already making changes for the better. My old computer speakers are being replaced with JBL creature speakers. In the defense of my old Creative Cambridge speakers -- they were 11 years old and now a solder in the plug went bad. I also plan on running more miles and racing more since I have time again. Of course until I find a date who is interesting and not thoroughly insane, I am sure a few of those posts will pop up as well.

My Christmas Story

2011-12-27T21:19:00.002-05:00

As all of you know, Christmas is a great time for Jews. It is when we partake in a number of customs such as eating Chinese food and seeing a movie. There is however, another tradition which I partook in. Every year there is a huge party downtown run by Jews on Christmas (translation: meat market). It was another experience I have added to this growing collection of posts.

There were a number of things which I got out of being there. I ran into a few friends from med school, although I had been expecting to run into people I knew. I identified a number from their online dating profiles. Not always was that wanted. The club I went to was down in the meat packing district. I had been there before and there were no major surprises that way. There were also a number of Jack and gingers consumed. Since the trend has been ongoing for a few posts now, here is a bulleted list outlining things I learned from that night.

Many girls' offline selves are as vapid and dull as their online selves (obviously).

I apparently resemble Steve Jobs. If only my bank account resembled his as well.

Dave Matthews Band always irritated me. His fans on the other hand, are the equivalent of 1000 ball bearings hitting 1000 metal trash can lids.

My theory on number of cats owned and insanity as a logarithmic curve was proven over and over.

My place as a doctor was re-affirmed

In addition to not allowing my 2 weeks of night shifts slow down my avalanche of dates, I have also been writing again on guitar. I "went back to school" in a manner of speaking. I had been working hard on good fingerstyle classical technique and now it shows. I have finally been able to sound refined, but add enough dirt to know the riff is a heavy riff. It used to be I either sounded too refined or too harsh. I also have been re-united with my old 1968 Fender Bandmaster amp. I think some paint peeled off my walls when I first used it. It makes my pedal board come to life as well as my custom Ibanez, Kingsford. I will have to get a capacitor replaced eventually when I am interested in using the amp's built-in vibrato again. Once night float ends in a few days, I will be scouting around for a half-marathon to run in as I am close to half marathon shape now.

Online dating fails

2011-12-04T18:52:00.002-05:00

I am aware the title is a display of horrifically incorrect grammar (should be failures). I am also aware that dating is a topic ripe on my mind. I was inspired again after a recent conversation with an applicant for my inner dating sanctum. She is the inspiration for this title. That conversation will be documented in its full hilarity later. I have only given hints of what makes me tick, a guide to the inner workings of Cthulu. Here is how to be inducted into the cult of Cthulu (be selected as a date).

I do not have many criteria for qualifying, but here are a few major and minor criteria. Failure to fulfill both major criteria will result in disqualification. Failure to fulfill 3 minor criteria will result in warning and likely disqualification. In plain English, chances are slim at that point, but they will be given a chance.

Major Criteria

Weigh less than me (seems to be a challenge these days to be 140 or less)

Do not be clingy

Minor Criteria

Do not be a pet coddler (see previous post on pet coddling)

Do not be vegetarian

Do not be boring

Play an instrument

Have an interest in physical fitness

Now onto my online dating fail. A girl had contacted me online, she did meet my initial major criteria. Red flags raised already was she had made the first move. Generally, that is a sign of desperation. After a 2 hour long phone conversation however, she played herself right of the game.

Applicant: I am a huge animal lover

Me: Really?

Applicant: I just get so upset when I see animals on TV get slaughtered. They get tortured. I became a vegetarian 3 months ago because of it. I actually cried when I saw a special on MTV on it.

My brain: We raise animals for food. I see animals and wonder what is standing between me and eating them. Also, MTV is obviously overflowing with intellectualism. You are now obviously mentally aged at 16.

Me: So out of curiosity, if these animals are not raised for food, what do you propose be done with them?

Applicant: They should just be allowed to frolic out in the woods

My brain: Mental age 6

Me: I tend to see animals and wonder whether or not to use an orange glaze or maybe hot paprika.

Applicant: That's horrible.

Me: That's tasty

Applicant: I was so upset when I went to petco this week and they told me they would have to put this cat down if it wasn't sold.
I cried.

Me: I hope you understand I in no way, shape or form relate to any of this. If I wanted a pet, I would just get roomates.

My brain: So she has violated a major criteria by being clingy and is an animal lover, vegetarian and pet coddler. She also owns more cats (3) than should be allowed to continue to purport to be sane. She appears to relate better to animals than humans. Next time I want to see her face is her getting arrested on TV at a PETA rally.

Thanksgiving fun

2011-11-22T19:35:00.002-05:00

Well hello again. I know it has been some time since the last post. It seems as though my lessons on the female species were well received and I do thank my audience for that. I will be switching gears this post. As usual, I have been caught up in many extracurricular activities. I am getting a tour of where I live through running and other means.

Since I have had this newfound free time, I have been making good use of it. It has been beneficial cutting my work hours down from nearly 100 a week to 60. I have been stepping my mileage up and am in preparation to run my first half marathon. It has been good to get adequate rest every night. I have not looked back nearly 6 months later after coming home from California. I am experiencing weather again.

I have had much happen over this month, but not much of it is appropriate for this blog. I have had some adventures and I wil have to find the appropriate format for their presentation. Also, happy Thanksgiving.

Lessons on the female species part 2 and other pearls

2011-10-28T21:37:00.003-04:00

Looks like the last one did not generate hate mail. I am glad there are some sane, reasonably intelligent members left of the human race. I am still giving ample warning that this post may still generate hate mail. It seems as though my lessons on the female species is a well which is not close to being tapped. I still have a few more pearls to impart on everyone. For now I am through with pets, but plenty of other subjects to talk about. Next on the agenda is online dating.

I had an online dating experiment before I went to medical school. Ironically, it netted me an apartment, but few if any quality dates. This brings me to the current experiment. At the urging of a friend, I restarted my online dating experiment. I was running short on good blogging material and now I have some free time on my hands. I now will share my observations.

Not everyone resembles their profile pictures. The camera apparently takes off a few pounds. I had thought that was the opposite. At least in one case that may have meant an army of photographers snapping away.

I have been able to recognize so many girls around the city from their online dating profile pictures.

Teachers == deathly dull

Actresses == rich parents supporting them

Hipsters == would not touch even if they were deloused

Small talk is worse than hemorrhoids, hemorrhoids eventually end

Girls can be more socially awkward than anyone gives them credit for

I do have more pearls to offer, but I will save those for now. I will however, update everyone on my thoughts on where I live. Jersey City so far has been interesting and I have been taking in what it has to offer. Hoboken, its close neighbor also has been invaded. Hoboken is actually not a haven of guidos. Instead, I realize now it is the home of the Bros. These are frat boys who are now 30, but have not outgrown the Bro life. It has only reinforced what I had thought of them when I was in college. I see them often in my gym, usually having a Bro-out bench pressing. Luckily, I wear my ultimate Bro repellent, the death metal t-shirt. I may bench press much less than them, but nobody else has that much space there to themselves except me. I have yet to take in the bar scene in Hoboken, but I would imagine it would be amusing. I wonder who would win in a drunken bar brawl, guidos, Bros or hipsters. The Bro-down to end all Bro-downs has yet to occur.

Before I end this post, I do have some observations to share on Halloween.

There has never been anyone dressed as an insecure skank. I am sure this is not a hard costume to assemble

For all the hipsters who live in my area, I am unable to tell whether or not they are in costume, so for them it must just be Friday

Nobody has ever answered the door when trick or treaters come and said "trick", slapped them with a glove filled with ball bearings and then run off screaming "you'll never take me alive!!!"

At least one of these bullet points may be fictional

Lessons on the female species

2011-10-22T15:01:00.004-04:00

After a little prodding, I have decided not to directly write about some of my extracurricular activities. Instead I will write about many of the lessons I learned from said activities. It still amuses me and as we speak I am doing my best to concentrate on writing and not laughing hysterically. This post will likely anger many. I am looking forward to hate mail.

Let me start this portion off by explaining that in no way, shape or form am I a pet person. I found that if I wanted something who demanded attention and I had to clean up after, was much easier to have a roomate. I learned about many girls and their pets during my jaunt so far.

"Must love dogs"

You will be competing with my ill-behaved dog for my affections.

"I have the cutest <insert small dog breed>"

I am a pet coddler

This is never cute

My children will be helicopter parented to death

Not to worry cat owners, I have not left you out either.

Other miscellaneous observations:

Clinical psych == insane

Social worker == insane

Vegetarian == really insane

This is all for now. I do have more observations as well as funny stories. Right now I am searching for a proper forum to post those. I do want to preserve others' dignity.

Birthdaypocalypse

2011-10-17T18:49:00.002-04:00

The title is part of my extrovert education (extrovercation?). I normally do not make a huge fuss about my birthday, but this year is different. It marks me turning old. Maybe this why I have been so tired lately, even though I have been working practically half the hours I had been used to. I do know the real reason actually, it is nothing related to work. It is entirely extracurricular. It is a continuation of the same experiment I had through my last 2 years of med school, since now I have the time to start it back up. No none of you get to learn my real age. What would the fun be in that? Then there would be less mystery.

My party was still a small affair. Considering the amount of Jager consumed, noone would guess that however..... We headed out for one of my favorite west villiage spots. Of course there were no-shows there, but it did not get in the way of a good time. Ultimately, when I headed home I ran into someone clearly high on either cocaine or meth. They were down on the ground and of course video footage was taken. Us doctors have our strange senses of humor.

The weekend as a whole marked me finally getting some much needed rest after working 12 days in a row. It made me realize how much all these extracurricular activities were taking out of me. I am truly an introvert's introvert. Now I am recharged and ready for more. It reminds me of when I first started lifting weights. It hurt at first but then after some time it began feeling good even when it hurt. This will eventually energize me instead of draining my endurance as well as patience.

I am sorry for my lack of posts lately and the brevity of this one, but while as usual I have been busy, there is also plenty I do not feel appropriate to report on this blog. Not to worry, it has been an interesting month......

Late 9/11 posting

2011-09-15T21:52:00.003-04:00

Hi everyone. I do not feel the need to explain the lack of posts lately, as everyone already knows the answer. I do want to briefly talk about the 10th anniversary of 9/11. This day is one of a lot of tragedy and pain. I mark it as the 10th anniversary of my transformation and beginning of tremendous personal growth.

On 4am that day, I was in an ER because of pain I can only describe as being stabbed in the back with broken glass. I had a rash which originally I had thought was poison ivy as I had been in the woods earlier that day. It turned out it was shingles. I understand that on the scale of illnesses, it was minor but painful. The important part though was the pain. It was unlike anything I ever had experienced. It forced me to think of many things which I never wanted to confront. The ER doctor gave me percocet and I slept through a national tragedy.

I woke up hours later in an empty dorm and rushed out trying to make my last class of the day. I was not going to let a little shingles and opioids deter me from class. Campus was empty with no explanation. I thought it was a bad dream. I ran into someone who was walking around campus and asked what had been happened. I was shocked by the response. It took a number of days through my percocet induced haze to piece together everything. The event that happened in that ER however was still indelibly etched in my brain.

I confronted a huge fear I had when I was in that pain. I realized up until that point, I had disappointed myself and everyone around me. I needed to make things right. Up until then, I had no direction and placed no expectations on myself. From that moment forward came a transformation in every aspect of life. I attacked it with a ferocity never seen before. My grades skyrocketed and I became much more focussed in every other aspect as well. I give my prayers and thanks to the families of all the victims of 9/11, but it holds a deeper meaning for me too. It was the beginning of my new life.

Hurricanepocalypse aka They oversold this one

2011-08-29T21:12:00.007-04:00

Hi everyone. I think everyone has begun to associate natural "disasters" with one thing: blog posts. This now comes about a week after a thoroughly un-scary earthquake. I had heard rumors a few days preceding Hurricane Irene that over the weekend a hurricane was coming through our area. I never believe the rumor mill and certainly I investigate all outrageous claims such as those. After a brief search, I confirmed the rumors were correct, a hurricane was coming. I knew not to panic, after all I used to go running in one of the most dangerous parts of America late at night. I realized that as long as I took a few simple precautions and did not panic, I was going to survive this.

The first thing I did was look at my call schedule. Only my luck produces scenarios such as these; I was on call all weekend. My grand plan of getting some beer, snacks, a few books and watching movies until the power died were dashed. Now my head was filled with scenarios straight from my last jaunt in California. Instead of gunshots I pictured some of our many average intelligence (read as extraordinarily dumb) patients coming to our ER impaled by tree limbs or electrocuted. The media, who obviously were having a slow news week, really attempted to cause mass hysteria. At least this was what I was able to piece together from watching a few minutes of CNN in a patient's room. It did not cause me to panic, but I did still evaluate my survival supplies. I had my large mag light as well as plenty of batteries, my fridge had plenty of food in it, I had plenty of canned goods. I could even do some cooking even if the power went out, as long as the gas was still working.

I then went for my pre-hurricane run on Friday. It was the calm before an extremely anticlimactic storm. I did what anyone else with common sense did after my run, I made hot sauce. Actually, I made schug (pronounced z'chuck), easy to make Yemenite hot sauce. A few hot peppers, a few cloves of garlic, some coriander, some cumin and olive oil and easily done in a blender.

Chemical warfarelicious

Now that my condiment collection was complete, as well a potential weapon against looters, I went to sleep. The next morning was fairly anticlimactic. I arrived at the hospital and everyone was in a state of panic. I myself did not know whether or not I would be evacuated from my apartment. I ground through my day fairly uneventfully until mid afternoon. That was when the rain started. At first it was light, but then it picked up in intensity. According to the Weather Channel, the storm was still hurricane status but weakening. I then learned I was going to be evacuated. I quickly went home and got supplies. I got some spare clothes, my large mag light and small clip knife. I also took a massive feed bag worth of food, including the last few corn muffins I had made.

Some preparation done for the lamest natural disaster since Sex and the City

I stayed the first night until late since I had a critical patient whom I could not abandon. Finally, I went to another resident's apartment near the hospital and crashed on her couch. By that time, the rain was heavy, but not intimidating. I fell asleep in a daze. The next morning, I woke up expecting to see scenes of destruction. Surprisingly all that had happened was more rain. The rain was still heavy and I was soaked completely after walking only 1 block. The hospital had made their emergency preparations as well. I noticed the ceiling was leaking in places. I think all this rain did was indicate the roof was in severe disrepair.

Ready as ever for hurricanepocalypse.

My day in the hospital was actually not eventful at all. On the bright side, there was food available in the cafeteria for free. The power did go down for 10 hours of my 12 hour shift though. The hospital was on backup generators for most of the day. It was a good thing I had the foresight to bring my giant mag light. The down time did allow for many pictures of some flooding.

Surprisingly after the rain stopped, most of this was cleaned up quickly

After my day mercifully ended, I went home to inspect the damage. As predicted, all that really happened were many flooded basements. My apartment was exactly the way I left it. I peeled off my scrubs and settled down to a nice long shower. I am sure many of my readers are asking "Would you like a medal?" with sarcastic sneers. To answer that: yes I would like a medal, so there. I had not showered for almost 2 days and felt slimy. I settled down to a large, well deserved dinner and then cracked open a post-hurricane beer for the disaster that never was.

Here's to you Irene, you disappointed me like so many other women

I survived earthquakocalypse

2011-08-23T21:32:00.004-04:00

Hi everyone. I survived the big one. Now when do I get to loot? For those of us not living in a fortified bunker like Qadhaffi, there was an earthquake in the greater NY area which had an epicenter in Virginia. I had thought I was getting an attack of vertigo. The building I was in was moving while I was standing still. After that excitement for the day finished, I realized I had not written a post in a while. I now present you the most delicious scourge of humanity: baked goods.

I had a notion in my mind I would make an olive oil cake. This is somewhat similar to a pound cake, only it uses ~~a buttload ass load~~ a ton of olive oil. This of course makes it smell nice and taste so rich it should not be legal. I was pressed into making it sooner than I would have liked by one of my co-residents, but it still turned out well. Unfortunately, since my camera's battery had been dead, most of the cake making was not recorded.

Some powdered sugar and consider yourselves pwnzed

I also decided to make corn muffins. This is largely because the other recipe called for corn meal. I only needed 1/4 of a cup and now I was stuck with 2 pounds of it. Since I do not have a pet chicken to feed it to, I decided to make myself some snacks/breakfast food. The recipe was easy. I found it in my old fallback: a cook book I owned since I was 14. It has the oil stains to prove good use.

When do these cool off? They need to be eaten by my mouth.

So damned impatient

Pre-muffin anticipation building

All hail the awesomeness of my recipe book!!

My ongoing war between me and insectkind has not ended apparently. I saw a new unwanted visitor in my apartment. His name, surprisingly was not Barak Obama. The newest water bug to grace me with its presence is even bigger and uglier than the last. He reminded me of a smaller version of Sara Jessica Parker. I saw him dart out from under my fridge. I am amazed with their speed. I did not even get the time to get my can of raid before he disappeared. The next day I armed myself with roach gel and boric acid. My apartment, just like the one I kept in Brooklyn, is now contaminated with enough insecticide to kill an army of roaches. I hope not to post another picture like the last one I posted. Maybe I can bargain with this one and exchange baked goods.

I am hardXXXcore

2011-08-08T22:26:00.001-04:00

As the title suggests, I reached one of those critical times that I wanted to put on a show of force. I had been roped into running in a mud run. These are novelty races which while usually not being long on distance, are filled with obstacles. While I write "novelty" these are not for anyone unprepared (read as out of shape). Maybe what should have been concerning was the last minute email that I received which said to wear gloves and socks above the ankle to prevent rope burn.

Race day arrived. I am normally never up early on a weekend except for 2 reasons and one of them is money. The race itself was at the world famous Raceway Park (of hilarious chipmunk voiced commercial fame). It promised a run through a muddy motorcross track, among other challenges. I met up with the rest of my team and we signed in. The race crew were extremely disorganized and nobody could find the bag check area. After my own fruitless search, I settled on locking my bag in my car and hiding my keys under a wheel well.

Now onto focussing my mind on running. I had signed up for a 9:00 start with the rest of my team. I lined up as the time was called for, but noticed noone from my team was there. I decided they would just have to catch up later. The gun went off and off I went.

We started off on a race track. The melted tar and rubber made my feet stick to the ground and tore pieces of my soles off. A half mile later and I was still running on the track. I was beginning to get into my running groove. I started wondering where the obstacles were. We then veered off the track into the woods and found... Water!! I did not sign up for this. One by one we all jumped into what appeared to be a lake of algae and mud. Shoes became a liability as they made me too bouyant. I flailed away with my crawl stroke and was barely making progress. I reached the other side of the lake and my lungs burned. I could not even cough. I started running again once I crawled through a sewer pipe at the bank of the lake. A quarter of a mile later, I was met by a 15 foot platform and had to hoist myself up using a rope. More water, just what I signed up for. My heart at this point felt like it was going to explode. I was already waterlogged and dirty. Kersplash. Off I went back into the drink after jumping off the platform. The new challenge was swimming under barrels which were wrapped in barbed wire. My lungs resigned themselves to being in permanent pain at this point and stopped complaining to me.

I reached the other side of the lake without incident and took off running again. The new challenge was vaulting over sewer pipes of increasing sizes. Now my calves were starting to cramp. It was only a bit over 1 mile. One quarter of a mile later, I found myself carefully balancing myself on a log and crossing a mud pit 15 feet below me. I then crawled through mud under more barbed wire. Now my arms were beginning to complain. Luckily there was another quarter of a mile run to torture my legs and give my arms and shoulders a rest. I then encountered 3 walls of increasing heights to vault. The 7 foot wall was easy to clear, the 9 foot one was fairly challenging and the 12 foot one caused my entire body to cramp. The next challenge were metal bars I had to vault to the top of and slide down on my back.

At this point my lungs had turned in their walking papers. My calves were at their breaking points as well. It had only been 2 miles. I was wondering how my teammates were doing. They were not runners and did not exercise on a regular basis. I noticed that even when I was able to run, it was never straight and never on solid ground. I trudged through a soggy motorcross track where I was sprayed with sprinklers. I climbed a ladder onto a slide where I was pitched into more mud. I then went to crawl under more barbed wire. Halfway through, I felt white lightning through my skull. I went face-first into the mud. The stream of curses was impressive. I stopped and then looked around me. This barbed wire is electrified and there are dangling wires randomly throughout. I dug myself deeper into the mud. Slowly I advanced. I still managed to get shocked on the calf. It caused it to spasm nicely. Flintstones chewable morphine was the only thought on my mind now. It made the climb over a few walls of nets and run through more mud pits more bearable.

Once I finally crossed the finish line, I was rope burned on my arms and ankles. I was covered in mud and realized I ran the entire race with water in my ear that had never come out. I looked for the shower stations to hose off and of course they were not where the race organizers said they were and I had to search for a while. After hosing off and changing, I met the rest of my team an hour later. It turned out they walked the entire course. Well at least I have a t-shirt.

Back from zombieland

2011-08-03T21:48:00.003-04:00

Hi everyone, I do remember this blog exists. I had been on a day/night cycle altering ride also known as night float. Now I am reteaching my body to sleep at night. I remember the last time I did night float. It was for a solid month and was easily as disorienting. I had been thankful at the time for it however, since it got me away from Doucheville, CT. This time, it was a welcome escape from doing 24 hour call. Both times, I used it as my chance to catch up on a few years of pop culture. The first time, I watched every episode of Dexter to current. This time, it was to watch The Walking Dead, as well as catch up on 3 years worth of movies I would have never seen, except maybe on a rainy day when they went on TV years later.

My review of The Walking Dead can be summed up in one word: amazing. I will have to watch this show they way I watched Dexter though: a season at a sitting. I think my heart would not be able to take the time between episodes or even commercials. I was lucky I was able to do that again this time. My new hospital also is fairly quiet at night, except when the ER decides to give me soft admissions as usual.

I finally also won my battle with Bobby the water bug. He resurfaced a few days after my first attempt at killing him was not successful. I had mentioned that he was not going to pay rent. He reappeared under my coffee table. This time I was prepared. I reached for my trusty can of Raid and went to work. I managed to flush him out by spraying under the coffee table. He scuttled around my new pedal board. "Away from the merchandise" I yelled, totally cognizant that it was 2am at the time. I used liberal amounts of raid to drive him away from my valuables. Now I had him dead in my sights. "I can do this all day!!" I snarled. I scored a direct hit this time. He still managed to run under my couch before having the good sense to flip over and die.

Let this be a message to all lower life forms who do not pay rent

Overall, I am loving life now that I am back on the east coast again. I am away from all the things about California I hated and more importantly near my friends again. Signing off for now.

Cthulu vs his apartment part 2

2011-07-12T17:11:00.002-04:00

When I last left off, I had detailed how my drain to my tub had caused me innumerable problems. That problem has since been resolved as of last post. Now however, I have developed a new problem. His name is Bobby, his interests include: crawling, getting stuck in things and picking through garbage. He is my new unwanted pet/roomate (the differences can sometimes be negligible) water bug. I asume that because of the recent rain he wandered in from the sewer. If he paid rent I would allow him to stay, but since I cannot interpret antennae twitching into English, he needed to go. I reached for my can of Raid. I then realized I had no can of Raid so I needed to think quickly. I grabbed my Tilex spray. Once shot and it does not go down. I sprayed it again and it still does not go down. I begin wondering how this is possible; Tilex is pure bleach. This should be frying his little roach nervous system. Finally after the third shot, he ran into a corner and was never heard from again. This was only the beginning of my night.

I went to the city and met up with a number of friends. There was some imbibing of beverages of a refreshing nature and I was caught mugging for a few cameras. On my way out, I had remarked to a friend how I had seen a transsexual patient that day, but they had not had their penis mutilated yet. It had caused a small amount of distress. Of course since this is my luck, there is a transsexual who happened to be listening. Correction: a transsexual who could play offensive line for the Jets who was listening. They of course took offense at the key words "penis mutilation". The ensuing conversation went as such.

T: You know I'm a trans-gendered individual

Me: Uhh ok.

My brain: Would you like a gold star?

T: I did not get my penis mutilated. I got an operation which made me this way. It is offensive to us trans-gendered individuals to hear things like that. If your penis was in a wood chipper then it would be mutilated vs us who voluntarily get surgery. I also like girls, which is a whole other discussion.

Me: Sorry to hear that. Thank you for clearing that up. This is now the 3rd most awkward moment of my life. Good job.

My brain: So obviously he/she/it is having second thoughts on having his penis mutilated, hence spending so much time on the subject. I never knew meta- lesbians existed. If someone is crazy enough to get their penis cut off voluntarily, they obviously are crazy enough to fight over this. Anyway, this was why I found people in San Francisco so weird.

Luckily at this point, my friend smartly created a diversion and we escaped.

My night did not end yet though. After getting back to Jersey, I began my walk back from the train. Along the way I saw a Snickers bar dangling from a string at chest level. My first inclination was to grab at the chocolate. No, I am too smart for that. I decided. I instead looked up and found a pack of hipsters at the other end of the string on a roof, snickering. I did the only thing a red blooded New Yorker could do. I gave them the finger. Actually, I also stared at them until they began to look uncomfortable and then gave them the finger again. I am betting I am a YouTube star now.

Cthulu vs his apartment

2011-07-10T15:22:00.004-04:00

I have not written a "Cthulu takes on" post in quite a while. Now the timing seems right. My shower drain had not worked right since I had moved in and after a few weeks I began to become fed up. My building does not have a full time super and any repair requests have to go through the management company. This makes any repairs take double the time to happen. I decided to take matters into my own hands.

I got a snake and some industrial strength solvent at Home Depot. I think for the amount of things purchased from there, I need to buy stock in them. I started to snake out my drain and pulled out a substantial amount of hair. I began realizing that the former occupant of my apartment may have been this guy

I was not going to let some large hairy beast or girl's hair beat me (sometimes there is no difference)

After pulling out that large plug of hair I thought I had fixed the problem; until I attempted to flush the drain. It still did not run. Time to bring out the big guns. I poured a substantial amount of solvent into the drain. Let me explain that this was pure potassium hydroxide. This will dissolve anything once alive. What bubbled out of the drain made a stain in a toilet seem innocuous. Still no luck on freeing up the drain . Undaunted I poured still more solvent in. Finally an hour later my drain runs smoothly again. As I take in the sites and sounds of nature while writing this, I contemplate how to use the new pedal board I assembled.

Back on the air

2011-06-26T22:47:00.002-04:00

Hi everyone. I had been without internet for a small period of time. As anyone may imagine, I had been busy as well. First off, I am ecstatic to be back in the land where bagel means bagel and not came off a conveyer belt. I am still not 100% done setting up my new place, but a few small odds and ends and it will be done. I am also getting settled in at my new job.

I have my preliminary observations from being around the Jersey City area. First off, it is extremely easy to get into the city. The PATH trains were painless and cheap to use. The fact that my apartment is a short walk away is also a huge plus. Work is also really close to my place. Since I have free parking at the hospital, I park my car there during the day and avoid all the pesky alternate side rules that Jersey City is infamous for. Driving around Jersey City itself is notoriously difficult, everywhere is filled with traffic. My new gym is in Hoboken. The spray tans abound there. I had forgotten how amusing guidos can be.

I had forgotten all about these noble creatures.

I have to spare most gory details of my California horror stories, but most around me have gotten the idea that it may not be as it seems out there. My conclusion (read as final indictment) on the state of California is as such. Most have a conception from the movies of LA and San Francisco being nice places. This is true, they are. What they are unaware of is how spread out everything is in that state. There are miles of nothingness surrounding both and it is a messy, bullet-riddled jungle. The town I lived in was one of many just like it. In California people do not think much of driving a few hours each day. It was something I was unused to. Also rye bread did not exist. This reason alone is enough to have the state condemned. Living in daily fear of my neighbors was also something I was not used to. I made sure my presence where I lived was barely felt. There is still much subtext which I do not feel appropriate to posting, but I will just write how the passive-aggressivity was largely unappreciated. Plus all the white trash that the state was founded on will not be missed.

A few steps to freedom

2011-06-01T21:01:00.007-04:00

Obligatory prison sentence update: 8 days to go. I am now a few steps away to freedom. As of yesterday, my apartment was crammed into a shipping container and soon will be shipped back east. I really feel as though I am escaping ahead of an impending tsunami because of this insanity. I may soon change my opinion and reinstate SF as the most evil place in the universe, maybe except for the island of Ryl'Yeh. To clue anyone in: at least one of those 2 places is fictional.

In order to maximise my last days at work, I have been put on call 3 times in the next 8 days. It will be exhausting, but at least I know there is an end point. This will be the last time I ever take 24 hour call (really here it is about 30 hours). I laugh because once I leave, I cannot be replaced. My employment there was a temporary increase in the number of residents the program was allowed and once I go that slot does not stay open. This will create a shorthanded situation in a place which already had been shorthanded even with me. Blame yourselves people.

On a happier note, I am really excited to come back east. This is similar to what happened in It's a beautiful Life. I got to see firsthand what happened when I was removed from my friends and family. I also experienced the effects of it on me. At least I did get to see a lot of SF that if I had been an ordinary tourist, I would have never seen. I have my "personal guide" who I met there to thank for that. Those sort of experiences can never be taken away, especially since some of them are stored as some of the gigabytes of pictures I have. I am excited for the fact that I will suddenly have more free time again. No more cramming in a workout, reading, then have what amounts to a short nap only to repeat the same thing the next day. I will have time to develop an actual life again as well as have all the hobbies I enjoyed.

I want this to complete my setup:

This amp will be my distortion channel. My vintage 1968 Fender Bandmaster will be the clean. My signal will run into an Ibanez chorus pedal, Danelectro flanger and then into a RAT distortion (mostly used as a volume boost). This setup will be room shaking. It is reminiscent of early 80s Van Halen's sound. This is among one of many projects I am planning. I am still in the process of figuring out what new hobby to add. Soon my car will be shipped and then all that will be left for me is to get on a plane and fly back.

End of sentence, end of an era

2011-05-22T15:33:00.002-04:00

It is now less than a week until my worldly possessions are once again packed into a shipping container and sent 3000 miles away. Actually, this go-around I will be returning lighter. The tri-state area has been put on notice to hand in terms of surrender to me in 2 weeks. I am reachable fairly easily by light rail and PATH train if the selected representatives do not have cars.

On a more serious note, I have gotten rid of a lot unusable, unneeded and otherwise old things which would not be worth sending back. It is less eerie this time to see my property boxed and piled in my living room. Maybe it is because I am going back to more familiar surroundings. I have been getting a perfunctory stream of goodbyes already. I know most of them really do not mean it. I smile and thank them anyway. At this point I am just happy to leave. I have learned many things while out on the west coast or more specifically in Detroit, CA.

That horrible smell really was because we were downwind from both a dog food and rendering plant

There is no such thing as a good party which did not involve live ammo

No matter how many drugs you think a u-tox will turn up positive, there will be more and not the ones you were expecting

Hemorrhoids in prisoners are not caused by what everyone thinks they are caused by

Reading on a college level is a liability

Berkeley, not San Francisco is the source of all evil in the world

There is no bad time to mix chainsaws and alcohol

No matter what they tell you , anyone in a bar wearing a corset never has good intentions

This time, I am looking forward to moving. I will be overjoyed to be near my family again. I will be ecstatic to be in the awesome presence that is Dunkin Donuts. I am amazed that as ghetto as Detroit, CA is, there is a Starbucks on every block. I am sure I will stay in touch with a few of the people in my soon to be former hospital, but for the most part I am happy to be rid of them. I am beginning to see from what surrounds me that "average" is really a nice way of saying stupid. Mike Judge was entirely right in his movie "Idiocracy". Things may not be much different back east, but at least I will be able to put my life back together. Hopefully there will be another post or 2 before I fly away. 18 Days to go.

Pre-move madness

2011-05-06T19:04:00.002-04:00

Friends, cronies, hangers on and anyone else who may be reading this: the time has finally arrived. I will begin packing. I have arranged for my shipping container, flight has been booked. I have finally seen the end. There are only 34 days left to my sentence.

To that end, the process of throwing out more garbage will begin. I will also finally need to arrange things with the car transporter. My time here has been a serious eye-opener. I did not truly understand how sheltered I was. Now I realize I had never been exposed to how "the other half" lives. In their eyes I am a money grubbing, power hungry monster. People here have no true understanding of how hard doctors truly work. They also do not understand that this status is not unattainable. They just need to work hard instead of complaining how "the man" prevents them from advancing in society. Ralph Waldo Emmerson may have been many things (bigot, racist) but he did understand this.

I also did not have any real understanding of the amount of antisemitism which still exists in this country. I realize we were founded on tolerance, but as I have witnessed, this is not ever put into practice. I see people sometimes in the supermarket with swastikas on them. I wonder at times whether or not they have actually met anyone Jewish. On top of that, the administration where I work has many Arabs. Although noone will outwardly say anything, there is definitely an antisemitic undercurrent.

All in all, I am extremely happy to say my goodbyes to Detroit, CA. More importantly, my family is extremely happy to welcome me back home. I always manage to have adventures, though most of the time not intentionally. This will be yet another crazy tale to be told on an east side rooftop looking out over the Hudson with glass of vodka in hand.

Winding down finally

2011-05-01T19:39:00.000-04:00

I have resurfaced again. I am sure that everyone must realize I must have been busy. I have been busy making arrangements to get my move finalized. At this point; I have a flight arranged, I have a shipping container arranged and soon will have the car transporter arranged. I even managed to take in more of the bay area.

I am finding more and more that people where I work are realizing that life without me next year will be more difficult. They see it more and more on the days that I am off. I found it amusing when one of the nurses who I am 100% positive not a month ago bitterly complained about me asked me about travel tips around the NY area. Now suddenly I am getting cheerleaders, but only months too late. At least I survived Passover. In order to receive credit for the year, I was required to not use any of my vacation time until the end of the year. This meant I had to spend Passover in Detroit, CA instead of with my family. I now have a full understanding of what Jews living in Arab countries such as Egypt and Syria went through. The only positive was that I was near some amazing used record stores for record store day. I had a nice bounty of old Candiria's and Misfits' back catalogue by the end of the day.

I also had to send my minions of evil out to find me a new apartment. Before I go any further, I need to explain that evil minions can be found fairly cheaply on Craigslist. Continuing on, they found me a swanky new place which is fairly close to the city. Actually, this is the closest I ever have been. I will be a 15 minute train ride away. I am beginning to see a return to normalcy. I can take public transportation to work again.

In my remaining time on the west coast, I am taking in all that I can. I am enjoying some of the many foodie type places. I think I will feel really jaded once I go back east. The coffee out here is amazing. Really, any restaurant I have been in has been nothing short of spectacular. They make anywhere in NY I have eaten at look chintsy. Everything is expertly plated, flavors are perfectly balanced. It is the equivalent of having the band Dream Theater make a meal, everything is perfect. I also managed a tour of Berkeley. I needed to see it at least once before running off. It was exactly what I thought it would be. It was similar to Vassar or Skidmore only 100 times more liberal. Maybe this was just my east coast sensibilities speaking. It was still a fun time because of the company I was with. I am sure I will have an update or 2 in between now and my move.

San Fran Adventures

2011-04-16T16:36:00.005-04:00

First off, here is the prison sentence update: 54 days to go. I am actually beginning to have some mixed feelings about leaving California. Feelings? I know I picked a bad time to remember I had them. I am beginning to discover more about SF now. It feels as though I am on a reprieve from prison every time I can get out there. I had been deprived of good food, good coffee. Women!! Everything changes whenever I go there. My mood instantly improves, I can feel the black cloud which has been plaguing me for years lifting. I had felt the same way when I had been living in Brooklyn. My motives are pretty simple and my mood improves when I get access to a few simple items.

This trip to SF featured a visit to Alcatraz. I am sure most readers will ask why. I certainly see enough prisoners during the course of my day to day activities that to visit a jail seems redundant. This prison however does feature plenty of history. Al Capone died there of syphilis. There also was a famous prison riot which the Marines had to assist in putting down. The tour began of course at the piers on a ferry. After a windy, choppy boat ride I arrived at the island. I was greeted by this sign.

This sign was in acceptance of American Indians protesting the government.

The prison itself was guided, by a self guided audio tour. The narrator was a former prison guard from there. Now that I have met my share of correctional officers, I realized he was authentic with his style of language. When he said to turn left or right, I listened. The prison itself reminded me that most of my humor lately seems to come from inside prisons. Passing by the showers reminded me of my many prison patients with hemorrhoids. If only I could hold a class for the prisoners I see every day with hemorrhoids. It would be entitled, "Soap, your hand and you. How to hold onto the soap".

This is the birthplace of prison hemorrhoids

The other parts of the tour were equally fascinating. I toured the cells, the isolation rooms and the "hole" all with the help of my audio guide. At the end I even got a replica tin convict cup. At times I feel like one. This SF trip was also without Med Student Dude (we will miss ye), but my company this time was equally good, maybe even better.

The isolation cells where the most dangerous, unruly prisoners were kept. Ironically they were the roomiest in the entire prison

My day ended of course with some positively decadent food and even more decadent coffee. This is some of what is contributing to my mixed feelings. My consolation is that Blue Bottle is open in Brooklyn. If the one there is anything as good as the one in SF, I will be happy. I also discovered the Japanese coffee siphon pot here. I will not get one while in CA, but once I get to NY I need one.

Now I will begin to set in motion all of my various move plans. Arrangements need to be made for a shipping container, car transporter and plane tickets need to be bought. Until next time.

Purim

2011-03-26T19:04:00.003-04:00

First off, let me give the obligatory prison sentence update. 78 days left. As for the rest of this post, let me talk about Purim. For those who are uninitiated, this a holiday Jews celebrate to commemorate how we were nearly destroyed during the time of the Persian empire by antisemitism. To celebrate, we dress in costumes and retell the story (the Megilla). For those who want to simplify it, this is Jewish Halloween. Since I had the time off at that time, I was able to go to SF and celebrate.

Going to SF is always a happy time for me. It allows me to spend some time away from the white trash surrounding me. It also allows me to do what always amused me in Brooklyn, make fun of hipsters. Anyone in NY who thinks Brooklyn has a problem has not been out here. Granted, SF has always been a place filled with leftist whackos, but it is more of a magnet for "creative", "progressive" people who want to sell organic, fair trade wares which only 8 year olds who have been paid a fair wage have made.

I set out on a miserable, rainy night and sloshed down the highway until I arrived. I had not really met any members of SF's Jewish community until that point who had not hopelessly outclassed me. I kept wondering what a Jewish doctor from Long Island was supposed to do. Ultimately I found what I wanted, Jews who do not wish the destruction of the State of Israel (rarity in these parts) and while being somewhat strange were interesting. This filled a void that my former med student sidekick left. He was dropped from the rotation due to what I believe was rabid antisemitism. He had been a breath of fresh air to me as much as I had been to him, though for entirely different reasons.

It was a memorable party, maybe just because I had a reason to celebrate more than anything else. I met some interesting people there to say the least. Surprisingly many east coast transplants were among them, even 1 or 2 from the part of Queens I grew up in. This is probably why I was suddenly able to communicate well with this bunch. It seems to follow the pattern I have had; anytime I finally find a good group of friends, I have to leave. I still may run into my old med student sidekick, his med school does have sites on the east coast too. After the party and a few numbers exchanged, I went back home for once satisfied. Maybe I am human after all. My perpetually foul mood must have been lifting if I made a decidedly decadent breakfast the next day. I had not made my own waffles in some time. I am getting my old swagger back. I will leave you with a picture of the aforementioned breakfast now. I am feeling like myself again for the first time in years.

My breakfast > Your pitiful breakfast

Prison sentence update

2011-03-18T23:18:00.001-04:00

87 days to go.

Cthulu's SF adventure

2011-03-14T17:05:00.006-04:00

The golden weekend as it is known in the medical residency community, is something to be treasured. This is when someone gets a full weekend off, a true rarity. I had mine roughly a week ago, but needed time to catch up on "life issues" (really just that I had been on call and had more roughness). After the rough call I had only a few days prior, I decided I needed to return to civilization. I arranged a trip to San Francisco. I took my newfound med student sidekick with me. He seemed lonely and I felt genuine sympathy. Record that one in your books for any of the barely literate peons who read this. I have felt a genuine emotion. After what was a light Friday and a restful night, I ran 7 miles and packed my car.

After taking a refreshing walk down Fisherman's Wharf, we checked into the motel I had booked. It is difficult from the remote part of California I live in to just go for an afternoon, so an overnight stay is needed. Fisherman's Wharf reminds me of the South Street Seaport, only nicer. Many small shops along the boardwalk as well as seafood restaurants all promising "the best fried fish". It also gave a great view of Alcatraz. It reminded me that some of my best entertainment lately seems to come from inside prisons.

Where all the old jail patients came from before it closed

Later after getting settled into the motel, we went out on the town. I had forgotten what decent food was like. I felt like a prisoner out on reprieve. I had forgotten how the women in this part of town are more attractive than anything I had seen in NY. It was sensory overload. After having some really good Indian food, we visited a few different bars. I had forgotten my love for a good cover band until that night. Guinness goes well with a band playing Beatles and Doors covers. It took a little bit to adjust to being surrounded by suddenly attractive-looking women again. I felt like someone who had been in the dark for months and now suddenly exposed to daylight.

Guy in mirror suit reminding a little of the freaks I saw back home

After a fun night out, it was time to tour around time. A stop was made in the Mission. Also Thai food was lunch. I managed to see the most crooked street as well.

Before finally going back I spent a rainy afternoon in Muir Woods with all the redwoods. Who said I hated nature?

Prison sentence update

2011-03-04T10:20:00.000-05:00

100 days to go.

Prison sentence update

2011-02-28T13:33:00.000-05:00

105 days to go.

100th post madness

2011-02-27T17:08:00.002-05:00

Amazing how I have posted my 100th post using this site. What began many years ago as a way of venting a lot of frustration turned into so much more. I still use the same condescending, snarky language but now it has evolved. It also has improved my skills with photoshop. At this point, I know I should have some sort of fanfare, but I was never really in tune with large ceremonies.

I will begin with a day on call in this god-forsaken hell hole of a town I currently live in.

0530 Arrive in the hospital, begin my rounds. Snarl at many nurses. They do not understand I am not open for business until at least 10. I at least do not mask my contempt for them as they have the entire year. I get many "good morning doctors" and huge, bleached smiles. I know they are all fake. I grind through the patients I have been following and write my notes. I then proceed to sleep-walk through rounds. I have officially checked out and it is not even 6:30.

0630 Round with the chief. For the most part he agrees with my plans for all my patients. I just wish our rounds were more efficient than this. We only have 8 patients so it should be much less than an hour to finish them.

0830 It turns out rounds are combined with the other team so they take even longer. Vacations have made us short staffed.

0900 Go to clinic. I take patients 2 at a time and take care of whatever I can do over the phone for everyone on the floor.

1100 Chaos ensues when I am told to drop everything and make arrangements to get a patient bronched. If we had anesthesiologists who did conscious sedation or anesthesia residents this process would be much easier. I guess there is a reason these anesthesiologists work here.

1300 Finally done arranging this patient's bronch. Realize I missed lunch and only now acknowledge I am hungry. I have to go back to clinic though. I grind through clinic patients 2 at a time again.

1500 Clinic is done and I can finally finish my floor work. I continue being paged every 15 minutes. I am happy that so far the only thing which has not happened are some brainless medicine consults. I did not feel like doing their work for them today.

1700 FInally get to eat. Remind myself of how stale the cafeteria food always is, but at least the hospital pays for it. I am beginning to believe that maybe I will get another slow night and I will be able to sleep.

1800 I get called down to the ER because a prison patient has "wound dehiscence". After inspecting his wound, I conclude it is well healing and get into a long argument with the prison doctor that I eventually win. He goes back to jail.

2030 For a few magical hours, I am lulled into a sense of complacency. My pager then went off. It was a call from the ER about a gunshot. Me and my new med student sidekick run down to the ER and find that the ER doctor is actually working him up for isolated orthopedic injury. He has another consult for us though. I loathe the fact that we have no full time urologist. I am stuck working up a scrotal abscess. In the middle of that, I am urgently paged overhead to the ER. "I am in the ER you dumbasses!!" I yell back. Well that got their attention. I am through being nice at this point and these inbred mongoloid idiots will just have to start doing their jobs like they mean it when I am here. Another gunshot just came in as well a car accident. It turns out my gunshot victim was the passenger in the car accident. He was shot 3 times across the upper back so the ER goes into panic mode. They get a chest xray the fastest I have ever seen in this hospital and it is available for me to view almost immediately. That gave me a small sense of normalcy. After determining he was stable enough to be CT scanned, he went through the scanner and luckily the bullets did not hit anything critical. It was time for me to turn my attention to the driver of the car, but then another car accident rolled in. 2 chest tubes and lots of radiologic tests later, I determine he is stable enough for me to finish my work on the remaining few patients in the ER.

0530 Finally out of the ER, I fall asleep for a few minutes face-down on a desk until my pager starts going off every 5 minutes. Nursing must be changing shifts, so now they have their endless stupid questions. I hear some orders read back to me and I have to explain that if it is written they probably need to do it.

0630 Given up on trying to at least get a little rest. I go round on my patients again. This time it is not just my mind which has checked out. That was gone since I walked in yesterday. I stumble through rounds and struggle to stay awake. I finally manage to be out the door by 11:40.

This post was a bit long winded. Sorry for that. I will eventually post my fun times making katsu curry.

Devil in Jersey City

2011-02-22T00:48:00.002-05:00

Finally news!!! I have secured a position for next year on the east coast. This means in a few months I get to do the opposite of what I did to move to the west coast. I get to load all my worldly possessions into a shipping container, put it on a truck and send it back from whence it came. This time however I get to also bring back a car. Henry my Ford, will be following me back home. Of course my friends and family back in NY are overjoyed. I am too. It told me something when Fox's "crime of the week" occurred fairly close to where I live.

I will not miss Detroit, CA. San Francisco was fun to visit whenever I could, but I realize that it was also a hipster mecca. It was Williamsburg on a much larger scale. In plain English, it meant me and my "radical", "backward", "non-progressive" views would not fit in in spite of the "liberal", "open mindedness" of the people. Not having a trust fund also is a strike against me. It seems as though people around me have been nicer since they have found out I am leaving, but it is a dollar short and a day late so to speak.

I am eagerly anticipating moving to Jersey City. I will be seconds away from the west village and there is plenty to do in Jersey City itself. It is tempting to begin sending things eastbound already. People have already laid claims to furniture I intended to leave behind. I am somewhat upset that the Borders I used to study at is closing. It is ironic that this is happening as I get ready to return home and was anticipating using that as my "base of operations" again. I will have to find a new mud hole to study in. So many things to set up. I have not been this happy or excited in a long time.

Your crappy tattoo sucks

2011-02-10T22:14:00.002-05:00

This post has been inspired by my many patients I have seen so far in sunny old Detroit, CA. As anyone not living under a rock and reading this blog knows, I have boundless love for the prisoners and assorted white trash which I treat. Invariably the topic of tattoos would enter conversation. Tattoos: what causes people never to be able to find a real job. I found a few which annoy me more than usual.

Hot rod flames on the forearm

Hey ass-hat!! You will not go any faster with those etched into you. Maybe you will though if you get a racing stripe right down the middle of your face. Just do something else to insure you will never have a real job or be a productive member of society.

Tramp stamp

These were never attractive and especially not on you. You weigh 200 pounds more than alcohol or drugs could possibly compensate for and your face looks like a campfire put out with a screwdriver. Translation: we know you are slutty but no takers.

Chinese lettering

A friend has told me some of these translate into things such as "deadly assassin" . Judging from the looks of you, the only thing you are assassinating is that bag of Oreos. I have a feeling that if they wrote "mongoloid idiot" on you in Chinese you would never know.

Since I am on the topic of my patients again, I wish I could circulate a memo to please not wash their clothes in sweat and cigarette butts. This is all for now, I am counting the days off until I leave this mud hole.

Favorite songs by era

2011-02-09T00:50:00.002-05:00

I have not done anything related to my other passion in a while on this blog. I have not had any music related posts. I will catalogue my favorite songs by "eras" I had been through.

Freshman year as an undergrad: Surfacing by Slipknot

It was an appropriate song at the time. I was flat out enraged when high school was over and I did not even know where to direct it. As a result it went everywhere and there were many late night listens of this song. It really stayed as my favorite until I had my "transformation" during my junior year. That was when I finally found a focus for my uncontrolled rage.

Senior year as an undergrad : Free Fall by In Flames

At this point I was in full swing with my premed classes. I was on a mission. I had also gotten into Swedish death metal in a big way. The rhythmic sounds helped me stay focused while studying. I had said my rage found a focus. My range on guitar got wider, my sound became tighter.

Grad School: She is Beautiful by Andrew W K

Toward the end of my senior year as an undergrad I discovered Andrew W K. He had a lot of the same energy I did but he directed it outwardly and in a positive direction. This as opposed to my smoldering rage which was focused like a laser still. It was beginning to cool off and I had become a bit love sick. As I became painfully optimistic with each date I had which turned bad during this period (there were many), there were a lot of late night listens to this song.

First 2 years of Med school: Earth A.D. the entire Album by the Misfits

This is just one song from there, but it is representative of the return of the focus and rage I had thought were behind me. I was under pressure and competing to keep my head above water. As a result, I listened to faster more jittery things.

Last 2 years of Med school: Brooklyn is Burning: Head Automatica

I had moved to Brooklyn and played this non-stop. I overlooked my roach infested, mouse infested apartment. I had arrived. I worked extremely hard during my rotations which were in the local Brooklyn hospitals, but I also enjoyed the fact that my apartment was near a major subway line. I took full advantage and partied. A lot.

In residency currently I really have no favorite songs. It may be more of a retrospective process and may take until after to determine that. I have to imagine some 80s hardcore being thrown into that mix though. So far things have been...toxic.

My life, the trauma

2011-01-29T21:24:00.002-05:00

I am back yet again with more great stories from Detroit, CA. I am becoming more convinced that these people are getting shot just to mess with me. Actually, my next few stories have nothing to do with gunshots and a lot to do with jail. As you all know, I have a great fondness for prisoners. Actually to quote one of the attendings, "they are people and should not be treated like animals". Obviously he has not realized where his tax dollars are going. Prisoners get HBO. In all fairness, there is not a lot to do in prison: HBO, get shanked, daily anal rape.

One fine day on call, a few catastrophes happened. First was someone run over by a moving truck. I had always read about unstable pelvic fractures in the textbooks. I had not actually seen one until then. Usually if someone has an unstable pelvic fracture, it points to greater traumas elsewhere. The pelvic ring is the strongest structure in the body and to disrupt it requires great force. In this case being run over by a moving truck (ie. the way I feel every day at work) seemed to be force enough. It was the most bizarre physical exam I have performed to date. His perineum (crotch) was actually torn straight down the middle and his rectum obliterated. I knew he was a goner. My chief tried to get him to the operating room after we restored a rhythm after he coded in the ER. It was really no use. Just the thing to get slammed with at 8am.

Just when that headache was finished, they brought in a prisoner who got shanked. I had said there were only 3 things to do in prison. Obviously someone shanked him because he did not have the TV turned to HBO. I probed his wound with my finger and later a q-tip. It appeared there was no violation of his body wall and he had gotten lucky. We took him to CT scan just to be 100% sure. Our crack *cough* crap radiology staff overread the scan and felt there was questionable violation of his body wall. This won him a trip to the OR, getting gutted like a fish to find injuries and after all that they found nothing. It annoyed me that he was now my problem for the next few days. Luckily his course was uneventful and was discharged.

My frustrations peaked when I had to see all the jail outpatients in clinic. I do not understand why they get so many hemorrhoids. I need to hold a class for them on how to hold onto the soap. I had mentioned the daily anal rape was one of their choices of activities. They all seemed so surprised they had them too. Considering they are in prison for any number of offenses, a hemorrhoid should be the last thing they need to worry about.

It seems as though I am back to what I do best: blog angrily while drinking espresso. I am happy however that within the next few months I will be clearing out of Detroit, CA in one form or another. It means no more jail people, no California phonies who smile to my face and think I cause cancer behind my back. In a sense, this year has been rougher than intern year. I am cut off from friends, family and in a part of the country where people are shot on a routine basis. Luckily I do see an end point to this. Even in prison there is an end to every sentence.

Cthulenberg? Cthulenberger?

2011-01-17T21:40:00.002-05:00

Hi everyone, I am back again for another round of fun. Unfortunately for the last month, I have been absorbed in my plans for extrication from Detroit, CA and forgot I had this blog. Of course, a lot has transpired since then. People in my program have found out I have plans to move back to NY. I think it has not dawned on anyone that their own actions are the cause of why I am leaving. A lot of rumors have circulated about the particulars of how, why and where I am going and I have done nothing to stop them. In fact, I have circulated a few myself just to keep the level of confusion high. The bottom line really is that my letter of resignation states I will be gone sometime between now and the end of the year.

Between now and the last post, my plans to move out have taken a step forward but I am not out of the woods yet so to speak. So I now get to share more stories with you. Since my return from the private hospital, I have gotten even more of an indifferent reception than when I started. The nurses never even learned my name from the beginning. They used to call me Cthulenberg or Cthulenberger, as that was the name of another resident in a different department. They used to ask me questions about his patients and vice versa. My only thoughts are that it is good I never learned their names. That would make my anger about this personal. In spite of the fact that I am no longer an intern, I continue to be treated as such. Here is a great example.

Nurse: So the sodium on your patient is 150 Dr Cthulenberg

Me: I'm not him

Nurse: You aren't? *looks skeptical*

My Brain: This retard has been working here for 20 years and she can't get anyone's name straight. I guess this is average for this part of town. She is what happens when you smoke while pregnant.

Me: I am not trying to mess with you, I am Dr Cthulu

Nurse: OHMYGOD I am so embarassed. I just want to crawl into a hole now *turns the shade of a turnip*

My brain: That makes 2 of us.

Me: *stares back for an uncomfortably long period of time and then walks away*

I think now that I know I am leaving, I have dropped the pretense of trying to be nice. They all told me I caused cancer even when I was being nice. Most people in my program sound regretful of the treatment I received from them. I guess they did not know me well. I make changes quickly when I find I am getting abused.

I do realize luckily that there is plenty I will be able to throw out or leave behind for whenever I do move out. I will even be 1 car richer. I do have a wealth of pictures and plenty of stories I can at least talk about away from this blog. Others may have called this jaunt "character building".

Escape from Detroit

2010-12-28T20:21:00.003-05:00

It has been a chaotic few weeks everyone. I watched as my current rotation unraveled in front of my eyes and there was nothing I could do. Before I started I had been given a long lecture on how my technical skills were behind (noted in great detail on my last eval), but this rotation would fix it. I would be finally getting a massive upgrade to my skills was what I was told. This was the biggest lie since Santa Claus.

At first I thought retracting and occasionally closing skin was something temporary until the attendings got to know me. Unfortunately this has persisted, in spite of me proving I have been good with floor management. Obviously, they do not feel compelled to impart any of their knowledge on me. In plain English, so far this year has been largely another waste of time, just like last. I have been spinning my wheels. Couple that with the fact that not only will these attendings not teach, but also expect a more "finished product" to arrive in their private hospital. They will never take the time to teach, but will take plenty of time to complain when something is wrong.

I decided rather than wait to be fired, which was becoming increasingly more obviously the case, I was going to quit. I did not think this would be the ending of my surgical career, but maybe it is for the best. I had a dream and I chased it. This is more than many have done over their lifetimes. More importantly, I do have something I can fall back on. It is disappointing though since anything I have put an honest effort into I have achieved. Granted, it was hinted I was a bit too ethnic for Detroit, CA. Of course, this as subtly hinted to me by the members of the PLO assembled there. They were obviously not accustomed to Jews not of the self-hating variety -- of the few who live in the area.

In a way I am relieved at my decision to quit. I think my program director is as well. I saved him making a decision he obviously did not want to make. I had begun realizing how I did not fit in with anyone at my hospital. They were all boring, nosy people. This could have been since I was an outsider and they were curious or just they had nothing better to do. It immediately raised red flags in my mind. Granted, I was never suited to small town living. I was also one of the only ones who was so far from home. I abandoned a life to come out there. Luckily soon I get to claim my life again. I will go into more detail about this when the time is appropriate. I promise.

Chanuka

2010-12-05T17:54:00.002-05:00

It is that time of year again everyone. That's right, time for Chanuka. This year, instead of celebrating at least part of it in casa de Cthulu, I am out on the west coast. My main fear was that my new city Detroit would erupt in celebratory gunfire. Luckily it has not happened .... yet. It seems as that for every classless act I encounter here, I do something to differentiate my class. This time it was getting a French press. This as I have discovered, is the penultimate tool for making coffee and it is such a simple device. My other Chanuka present was provided for me by my residency. I am in a better hospital now.

I think now I will finally get the massive upgrade to my technical skills which I am in need of. This hospital does many more cases than the one I was in the last 5 months. It will be a huge relief to not have to be around prisoners. This hospital, thankfully has no contract with the jails. It does however cater exclusively to private patients. It is similar to where I was in Doucheville, CT last year, at least in that respect. The patients are certainly better class than what I had seen so far, but in no way upper crust. My main annoyance with my place so far has been home call. This is house arrest where after the hour of 5 I go home and can be called back to the hospital at any time. This could be advantageous some nights when noone calls or I could be called in never leave. In either case, no post-call day. The other problem, is I am now on call every 3rd night like this. I will have to give more updates, but 1 call down, 8 more to go and I am on call New Year's Eve.

As for what I want for Chanuka, that is an expensive and growing list. I will acquire all these when time and money allow. I still follow my rule of doing something fiscally responsible for every fiscally irresponsible act I do. My list has been so far:

~~New watch~~

Road bike

iPad

New Mac

Orange Tiny Terror amp -- either the combo or head and cab

These all will not be acquired at once, but I hope to get them as time and money allow. I also am thinking of my financial future, so things will be saved as I can. I am hesitant however in getting new things, as where I live is high crime and I do not trust the locks on my door. My ~~jail~~ complex is gated, but the gate has been broken for the last month. I have also demonstrated myself how easy it is to jump the fences. The locals have assured me I am in the least dangerous part of town, but my paranoia tells me not to get nice things until I move somewhere better. I still am counting the days off until my sentence ends.

Exploring Detroit, CA

2010-11-26T23:10:00.005-05:00

To start off, we are now off the top 10 most dangerous cities in America list. Camden is back at the top where it rightfully belongs. I am sure if there was a top 20 we would be on it however. I finally took the opportunity, as the title would suggest, to explore my new ~~prison~~ neighborhood. As I learned, there are a number of minor league/bush league sports teams which play here. I suppose when season starts, it will be interesting to see our local ECHL team play. This time the trip to the downtown arena was to see indoor soccer.

Indoor soccer is an interesting entity. It combines rules of soccer and hockey. In theory, it should make for an interesting game. There are boards and glass like hockey, but no checking. There are also line changes like hockey. The execution was hit and miss. Sometimes there are spectacular plays, other times it was sloppy. The most amusing part of the game was the local populace coming to support their local team. By this I mean mostly friends and family of the players. It was white trashalicious. I had always believed nothing got worse than Putnam county (podunk town in upstate NY) until I arrived here. I am having second thoughts about that now. I could get a bagel there which was made properly -- boiled first and then baked. It felt awkward to outclass people by a lot. I have been used to it being the opposite. I think these people would make the residents of Putnam county cringe.

The ghetto soccer mom van; complete with RiMZ y0

At first thought, boards and glass should improve soccer and make me not want to do my taxes during the game. On second thought: fail.

I also got to finally get breakfast at a popular local diner. Picture the diner from Back to the Future in 1955. This diner has not changed since then, including the waitresses. It was a slice of Americana which will be recorded in my mental database. They did make a good omelette and the coffee was great after killing my liver with alcohol the night before. While I do curse my current town and all its inhabitants, it does carry one advantage living here. I can save money.

Unfortunately I was also on call on Thanksgiving. It was bound to happen eventually, but it became more annoying since I am now 2000 miles away from my family. My moment of levity that night was a nurse saying "I drank a glass of wine every month when I was pregnant with my son and he's heckasmart". My thoughts on this gem are as follows. Anyone who says "hecka" needs their food stamps discontinued. Her son could still be quite intelligent, at least compared to the mongoloid idiots who live around me. His whopping 90 IQ would shine in comparison to the local population. Really, there are a number of words noone should ever have in their vocabulary. "Holla" should not exist in anyone's lexicon for any reason, please report any offenders to the local welfare office and have their checks stopped. Anyone using "GTL" needs to be sent to Staten Island and banished from the country permanently. I think my sense of humor is finally back. SIgning off for now.

5 months down

2010-11-11T17:28:00.002-05:00

I am now counting down the days until my ~~sentence~~ residency is over. They number at 3 and a half years. This verbiage at this point is appropriate, since I now have prison patients whom I see on a daily basis. I am truly convinced they are the lowest forms of life. They do provide a contrast to my daily life. As much as I may complain about so many things, I will go into a prison patient's room and realize they are 50 years old and spent half their lives in prison. I had promised more stories and now that I have determined how to write them appropriately; here they are.

One dark, stormy night in Detroit, CA someone came in shot in the pelvis like usual. He was high on meth like usual. I was called by the ER only after they had put him through a full body CAT scan 3 hours after he arrived like usual. He was restless, nervous and kept looking at his watch. My first thought was he may have been the first gangbanger I had seen who actually wore a watch. The next was that he actually knew how to read it. I explained to him he needed to go to the operating room due to the high probability he had internal injuries. This was where things headed south. He immediately balked about surgery. We explained he had little choice in the matter. He then switched to diplomacy.

Gangbanger: You's all good <n-word deleted>

Me: My inherent blackness aside, you need to go to the OR. You may have serious injuries which if you aren't treated, you will die.

Gangbanger: LisT3n y0, thEr's sumTHinG I's gotS t0 do. DOes I haveS t0 tell you?

Me: No

This was where it ended. He kept staring at his watch, signed out AMA and presumably either was shot again and this time with better aim or went home where he died. We also had another prisoner come in with gallstones. He had been shot 6 weeks prior during a prison riot and suffered chest and abdominal injuries. Now he had a large impacted gallstone. He was only 30. I do question what got him shot during a prison riot. There will be more on the jailies, I promise.

Today I am out of ~~jail~~ Detroit, CA again and in civilization. I enjoy passing by the high tension power lines on the highway to Albany II, CA. They remind me I am leaving the ghetto. Next year I get to rotate at the university center there. I am looking forward to it, since I do another rotation in burns. At first I was not sure if I would enjoy burns, but it grew on me. I am seriously considering it as a career. It gives me a goal this year, an end point. It is nice to recharge.

Civilization for Halloween

2010-10-31T17:46:00.003-04:00

This may be a break from my usual angry ranting. I have taken a trip to San Francisco again for the weekend. It may almost pay to rent a crash pad out there a few times a month, since I go as frequently as I can. The more I see of it, the more I realize what I have been missing the last 4 months. I had taken living near a big city my entire life until now for granted. Now I enjoy every opportunity to be out there when I can. I had prided myself on being desensitized to women of all sorts, but I am amazed how in only 4 months of "sensory deprivation" how much of shock this was to my system. Mitigating factors included in this are the fact I have moved to a vastly different part of the country, new job, really an entirely new way of life.

Of course, women in San Francisco are vastly different from anything I have ever encountered. I am still adjusting to this. In New York they tended to be more forthright. Here they are more passive and passive-agressive. It took me at least 2 hours to re-acclimate myself when I got into San Francisco. The sensory overload was numbing, even intimidating at times. It is not called the most in-shape city in America for no reason.

My journey of course started in my home base of Detroit, CA. I was faced with a choice of going to Albany II for what was likely going to be high drama with some of my co-residents, or strike out with a friend for greener territory. It was spontaneous, more spontaneous than anything I had done in quite a while. I had not really done anything like this since my days of partying in Brooklyn until 7am when less parts of me creaked when I wake up and my hair was longer. Newly discovered aging aside, we quickly found a place to crash for the night, quickly packed some clothes and San Francisco-bound we were. Since it was Halloween, of course we had to figure out costumes to fit in.

I have never really made a production out of Halloween. The pragmatic, practical part of me laughs at the mindless extroverts who invest a lot of money in a costume which will just be thrown away. The same part of me sneers at all of the women who view it as a opportunity to dress as slutty versions of things (these are up to and including George Washington -- it is funny since it is true). Of course, the same pragmatism I have complements the ones who took the time effort to be creative and not just wear something store-bought. As part of our hair-brained scheme, I borrowed my friend's white coat and wore it over my usual skintight punk band shirt and tight jeans. I was the rock and roll doctor.

We arrived at our destination and quickly checked into the hotel. On our way out, we noticed many slutty versions of things (no George Washington here, but plenty of cats, cabbies, garbage men). We also ran into a wedding party, made friends quickly with one of the parties involved and parted ways for our adventure. We noticed many fake doctors out there, the difference was I went to a real fake med school unlike them. My first few encounters with the locals were met with resistance. I expected this, just read my short piece above in sensory deprivation. Nevertheless, I was complimented on my originality. My friend went as a strung-out senile-looking Keith Richards (redundant terms, I know). He too was complimented on his originality. Later on in the night, I began to hit pay-dirt. I found the Silk Spectre, began to get report with her, was maneuvering around the 2 obstacles with her but was interrupted and my progress derailed. I need a few more sessions such as that one and I should be back on track.

File photo of the Silk Spectre

Much later, after we discovered the later the night went, the sketchier things became, we turned in. The next day, we crashed the wedding party's brunch. I am beginning to see a return of my party stamina. I had no hangover. Afterwards more exploration of the city took place and we settled down to do some reading. Finally, I drove back as it was beginning to become late and unfortunately I had call the next day to look forward to. I settled down to seared tuna, lifted and put the finishing touches on this blog. I had promised stories, there will be more. I need to "edit for content" before these can be posted.

The rock and roll doctor

Take that you uncivilized wads where I live!! Even in this vacuum of intellectualism, I can still produce a good meal -- seared tuna steak, brown rice, massive salad and toast with bruschetta.

Art Party

2010-10-20T22:45:00.002-04:00

In my newest adventure in civilization (aka San Fran), I went to an underground art party. In my grad school days, I had done similar things in Williamsburg. At that time I was known by a few hipsters as "that guy with a job". Now I ventured into the heart of hipsterdom. I was surprised to discover that San Francisco seems to be the origin of hipsters, not the mid-west.

The party itself was an interesting affair. I saw a few pieces I would have been interested in buying if they were not $1000. There were also a few which Michael Vick should have purchased (pictures of eviscerated dead dogs). I did relearn one thing: vodka and art are a great combination. Really vodka and anything are a good combination, but in this case having my vodka on the rocks made me look sophisticated and refined. I was surprised that these hipsters were more hipsters on the weekend and had tech jobs during the week. This translated to them being slightly less insane at least by San Francisco standards. There were a number of them who were intrigued at my stories from my current hospital. I did not have the heart to tell them where I lived or where the hospital was (my current scum of the universe infested dust bowl about an hour from there). I let them make guesses and agreed with all of them.

It took me a full day to recover from that party. It made me reminisce to my days of partying in Brooklyn until 7am. I was reminded of all my good times back in more civilized parts of the country. Since I am off over the weekend of Halloween, I have a conundrum. Since the death of Peter Steele, my usual activity at that time is gone. I used to see Type O Negative play around then. Luckily, I get to take another trip back to civilization since I am off over that weekend and I hear Halloween in San Francisco is insane. Nobody worry, I know my posts have not been as manic lately. I have more stories which will be shared when I can "edit them for content".

On Bullying

2010-10-10T18:39:00.002-04:00

There have been many reports of teen suicides due to bullying. At first I thought the media was doing its usual job and magnifying things out of proportion. I began to look more closely at the circumstances of their deaths and I began to realize they were treated similarly to my high school treatment. I also found more articles of similar disgusting behavior which was happening even at the level of elementary school. I think now is an appropriate time to speak out as well.

First off, I would like to congratulate the parents of the children who perpetrated such horrible acts on raising such wonderful children. Your inspirations for birth control only convince me that humanity is going to have dark times ahead of it. We no longer accomplish anything intellectual and anyone different is persecuted. I believe of the many problems children face these days -- note that these are 14 year olds, having threatening messages written about them on the internet is about as creepy as it comes. I believe that in addition to punishing the perpetrators of these horrible acts, I believe the parents need to be punished as well. Ultimately all responsibility for their childrens' behavior falls on them. Maybe their parents need to have messages of how they are gay posted about them on the internet and be socially isolated in order to experience the pain the victims experienced.

That being said, for anyone who is currently experiencing similar problems, it does get better. There is life beyond high school. I am a survivor of this type creepiness. I too had threatening messages written to me, received my share of beatings in the halls. There are only 2 methods to survive this: the easy way out is suicide, the other is to get tough. Suicide is the easy way out, in the end it will crush the hearts of anyone who actually did care and anyone involved now will be justified in any name calling or other acts. The only clear path is to get tough. It will be rocky and painful but in the end beneficial. Focus on what will happen beyond high school. Develop hobbies, things which will develop character. Lift weights, this cannot be stressed more, but make sure it is a balanced workout regimen. Make sure to enroll in a college far away if possible. Staying in the same town is an invitation for the same things to happen and moving away will be far more character developing.

As for what to do right now: remember all it is are words, even if posted on the internet. Develop a circle of friends outside school. Show willingness to fight back, noone wants a victim who is not helpless. My last piece of advice is: you will only be a victim if you want to be. This may be the most personal post written thus far.

Officially a Californian

2010-10-05T23:05:00.002-04:00

As the title suggests I am now officially a Californian. My drivers license finally came in the mail. It also marks 3 months since I have been here. I realize the city I live in is not truly California and is more like Detroit. I have concluded that driving around in my new Ford makes me top of the food chain. I occasionally see BMWs but these are always about 10 years old and in poor condition. My patients have been curious about me. They have heard the legends of Jewish doctors and now the finally get to meet one. Actually, it is not only them who are curious, it really is everyone. I had not realized how small my town truly is. I have tried hard to stay anonymous, but it has become increasingly difficult.

I suppose now would be a good time to answer various questions people I work with and around town seem to have:

Just an example of who my average patients are

The FAQ of Cthulu

Is that a pi symbol you have on your chain?

No!! If I liked math that much it would be something much more complicated. I am surprised anyone here can do basic arithmetic.

Your watch, it's so shiney!!

Ask it in the form of a question

What is this "Opeth" on your shirt?

They are a death metal band from Sweden. Now if you excuse me you imbecile, I have some bench pressing to do.

Why are you so rude?

You are mistaking my efficiency and asking you to perform your job in a timely efficient manner for rudeness. God help this hospital when our patient list gets above 10. Noone knows what to do.

Are you a veterinarian?

In a sense yes, but I doubt you understand the subtlety of that. So in the literal sense; no!!!. The fact that I wasted any brain power on that just caused me to have a small stroke. Urgh!! joiu890ujpij

Where did you learn to suture like that?

Brooklyn

Bear in mind the sources of most of these questions are people who may have an 8th grade education at the highest and a smattering of one of the local ~~minimum security prisons~~ colleges. I always thought Suffolk County Community College was the lowest common denominator and clearly they have been outdone.

The good at least is that I have finally settled in and people have warmed up to me. That said: one of the newer people to come by work has been convinced I am extremely "New York". Maybe he is right. I have my big, obnoxious jewelry. I am twitchy, manic, high energy. I suppose this place will be another stop on the road, much like upstate was before everything else. I just need to find a way to move to LA or the Bay Area.

Finally vacation

2010-09-14T00:39:00.003-04:00

It has been a sad, long while since I posted. Miss me? That was a rhetorical question!! I have been on vacation now for the last few days. It has been desperately needed already. I have come back to NY for the holidays, as well as to recharge my batteries. I have already slept more in the last few days than I have the last few months. While, I do appreciate the flood of clinical experience I am finally getting (I am seriously practicing frontier medicine), it has burned me out faster than I expected. I will have to redouble my efforts at increasing my endurance.

Here is what I have done so far. I have finally gotten some overdue shopping done. My wardrobe is now more updated, so now I have some new clothes to go with my new watch.

This just screams authority.

I finally got some new running clothes. I think light blue is my color. I got tired of the blacks and greys and needed a change. Most of my new clothing lately has been much less muted as well. I also got new running shoes and some sorely needed books.

I also revisited some of my old haunts. I started my city trip by driving to Brooklyn from my base camp. I parked by my old building as this actually was the most convenient way of getting to the city, as well as the easiest to find parking in Brooklyn. It is amazing that as much as things there have changed, many things remain the same. I ran into my neighbor from when I lived there and she thinks I never left. I also ran into the homeless guy who used to hassle me for change, certain odors you never forget.

Now that I no longer live here, it is safe to give clues to my former residence.

I then set about going to my second favorite store behind Home Depot, Paragon Sports. They always outdo any running stores I have ever been in. Today was no exception. I found exactly what I wanted and for a reasonable price (shameless plug, I know). I also went to NYU's book store to get a few sorely needed textbooks. Overall, it was quite refreshing being back in civilization. I am happy to get to San Francisco when I can, but I would love to be closer and get there more often. In the mean time, all these trips do is remind me there is an end point. I know I will survive, it is what I do best.

Batteries recharged

2010-08-29T18:57:00.003-04:00

Hi everyone. I am in the middle of wrapping up a well deserved weekend off. Although there is less work in my new hospital, it is more stressful. The patients tend to be more complicated as they are never in perfect health. Most of these complications come from either neglect, meth or both. The latest example of this came from someone who when finally presenting the proper excuse to intubate for being combative, cause a huge sigh of relief as well as applause from everyone in the ER. Amazingly enough, even with heavy sedation she still fought the ventilator and attempted to run away on her unstable ankle.

Her excuse for existing came when she provoked someone in a parked car. He wanted to voice his displeasure with her and in leu of the fact that she had no permanent address could not write her an angry letter. He instead punched her in the face multiple times and had his girlfriend run her foot over with their car. This is when she became my problem late at night in the ER. She was of course high on meth. She appeared much older than her stated age. Of course, nothing really could be verified because she had no ID with her. She also had no teeth. We only found that out after intubating her and finding the dentures after she denied she had them. Our excuse for intubation came after hours of enduring her verbal abuse, she attempted to get up from her gurney and walk out on her open fractured, unstable ankle. I slept 45 minutes that night, but not all in a row.

The next morning I had already given up the on-call pager when a call for miscellaneous object in rectum came. Everyone wants to think of doctors as being mature, professional individuals, but the reality is the opposite sometimes. Of course, the entire surgical team descended on this patient en masse. The x-ray was hilarious, but for the purposes of HIPAA I cannot show it. I had never been happier to leave a hospital.

I went back to San Francisco and it was a huge relief to see people without too many tattoos who also bathed on a regular basis. My quote of the night from the previous call came from a patient. "I shower every day". My brain at that point screamed "You want a goddamned medal?!!!" It was a great relief being re-introduced into society. I now understand why the Deftones denied being from Detroit, CA. I also began to dispel a lot of stereotypes about the west coast, the bay area in particular. While there are plenty of radical leftists there, it is not everyone. Actually, most people are fairly sensible there. Also the women there tend to not have the same attitude problems as the NY ones. Now I just need to find a way to move closer.

Back in civilization

2010-08-15T17:46:00.002-04:00

I survived another week. I have noticed the numbers of jail patients I am seeing has gone up. I am beginning to become convinced that I will seroconvert for TB by the end of the year. I think given more time I will be completely integrated into my new hospital. I am becoming more accepted. In some ways I am experiencing intern year all over again since I am new to this system. Of course, right now I am doing my favorite pastime. I am taking a break from studying, drinking coffee in an undisclosed location, poaching internet and blogging angrily.

The good this week was I received no more cease and desist notices about my hanging eggplant. My simple solution of using a cheap can of spray paint to paint the bright orange bucket black did the trick there. I just assumed that I was adding some color to the otherwise bland-looking space. I am beginning to get used to how sensitive everyone is. Truthfully, I had always read about how soft America has become. I had never believed it until now. I am experiencing firsthand how this country has become jaded, whiney. The prime example of this being my neighbor Gunnery Sgt. Douchenozzle.

I am also beginning to realize what I hate more than white trash; prisoners. I am now truly experiencing the lowest forms of life. In contrast to my former hospital, every one of these people has several underlying medical problems which usually make treatment more complicated than usual. They also generally have psychological and psychiatric issues to work around. I have witnessed things which would make ordinary people cringe. I now question the sanity of anyone who becomes a corrections officer. It is scary to me that someone ministers over these specimens 24 hours a day. My prime example is malingering done by one fine oxygen thief. He gouged 2 gashes in his leg with a paper clip and then put 2 ink tubes from a ball point pen deeply in the wound, then smeared fecal matter inside. He also swallowed 2 ink tubes from a pen. What he really did was gave himself a week in the hospital on my tax money. I will consider it a victory if I get through this free of xanax.

I have decided each week, in order to maintain my sanity that I will drive into either of the cities which surround me. I am beginning to take advantage of my location. I am unused to driving 40 miles at a time with any degree of regularity, but where I am this is apparently normal. It is beginning to work, I am feeling much less isolated. It will also help that next year I will rotating at a big university program in a bigger city for half the year. I am also getting better at taking gallbladders out. Each one there is improvement. At first I struggled to insert laparoscopic ports, now I can do those with ease. I also now know how to use Hassan technique to insuflate the abdomen. Each time I dissect the biliary structures, I improve and now when I separate the gallbladder from the liver, I do not spill bile. This is the same way I learned how to put central lines in. The first few were train wrecks, but each time I improved a little bit. I am also planning my next San Francisco excursion.

San Francisco

2010-08-08T19:55:00.002-04:00

As the title of this post suggests, I will be writing about San Francisco. Before I do that however, I will have to add some comments on my new hospital now that I am one month on the job there. In a sentence: I hate white trash. A good sampling of who comes to me for treatment may be found at peopleofwalmart.com. One quick perusal of this cornucopia of trashiness and sleaze is enough to make anyone buy a lifetime supply of condoms, birth control pills or just lock themselves in a padded room.

A prime example of this was when my management of my complex decided my orange bucket with my eggplant plant was an eyesore. I got a cease and desist notice left at my front door with no explanation other than that I needed to remove my plant. After calling the management, this exchange happened:

Me: Hi, I got a notice on my door to take down my hanging eggplant in a bucket. I have no problems with doing this, I would just like to know why.

Management lady: We consider the bucket an eyesore.

Me: So if it was in a different pot there would be no problem?

Management lady: Yes

Me: I had been wondering, since I see plenty of people with hanging plants. I consider 3/4 of the people you let live here eyesores and this is what you decide to bother me about. Thank you.

Management lady: I am sorry you feel that way.

Me: I'll go change the pot on my plant.

I also had a choice encounter with little miss screams a lot. She was a trauma who came in after a boating accident. With the way she was making noise, everyone assumed a lot was wrong. After doing a full evaluation, she only had 1 broken rib and a few bruises. I think something is in the air here, it is a town full of whiners with no threshold for pain. Of course, in that one's case, it was not helpful that her family was encouraging her. My general complaint about most of the people I see day to day is if they would shower a bit more frequently than once a month.

Now onto my San Francisco experience. Since I had the weekend off, I decided to take a trip to civilization. I needed to see people who were not covered in tatoos, who possibly bathed more often. In that respect, it was a raging success. In many ways the city is similar to NY. There is a lot to do there and one day will not come close to covering it all. I decided to go to Golden Gate park. It seemed like a good starting off point. It was similar to central park, but has a huge art museum in the center of it. The day I went, there was an art fair as well. After taking a stroll through the Japanese tea garden there, I left the park with a small signed print. I then decided to go to Chinatown. It is not as though I have never seen areas like these, but I was told a lot about it. It is smaller than the one I had been used to, but still nice. I went to a tea store and wound up meeting some new people. I got more insight as to how things are run on the west coast. People are much less direct, everyone will always be nice. It is a huge change. I ended my day with banh mi sandwiches at a small hole in the wall.

My new home so far

2010-07-25T16:20:00.004-04:00

It has been roughly a month since I moved to Detroit, California. I have finally gotten my apartment to the point where I am a coffee table short of it being fully finished. I have definitely taken advantage of the space my new place has. I also most certainly appreciate the washer and dryer my place came with. I use the laundry room as my tool shed. In the grand tradition of most californians, I have even planted a few herbs and vegetables. I have a new project: upside down eggplant.

Apparently plants can be grown upside down, especially ones which are vine-like. I picked Japanese eggplants since the fruit are not as big as the regular ones. They are short and round like the bombs on Looney Tunes. I have decided to name my eggplant Yoshi. In addition, I have planted mint, it is already growing like a weed.

As for my actual job: my satisfaction has gone up. I have been learning laparoscopy now. To some degree it is similar to playing video games. It is somewhat like Half Life 2, minus bashing zombies with a crowbar. Instead, it is burning a gallbladder with a hook cautery. I also have been learning how to navigate through the various attendings and residents at my new hospital. Having an ancillary staff which does their job is also extremely helpful. I am still trying to figure out an appropriate forum to write some of the new stories which I have acquired. Life has become much more interesting....

The creation of my upside down eggplant named Yoshi

This is my mint plant: Gus III (unlike other herbs named Gus he's legal)

Life in slow motion

2010-07-18T18:21:00.003-04:00

I am now 2 weeks into my California adventure. I am learning to adjust to the slower pace of life here. In some ways it is refreshing, but I am sure the novelty will wear off. I am learning a fair bit about my new home. I now have prepared a guide for all those back home about the anatomy of California (you may have to enlarge the picture to see properly)

Needless to say I do not live in any place where, hippies or famous people would be. In some ways this is similar to Canada. I am also unused to the amount of space my new apartment has. As a bonus the rent is also half of what I had been used to paying. My new hospital is also a bit slower paced and I need to get used to not having to push people to get results. There tends to be a mutual respect everyone shows each other. This is most unlike where I had come from where I had to perform the jobs of: nursing, phlebotomy, patient escort, x-ray tech and occasionally security. Here, these tasks are performed and my position is respected instead of being continually dumped on.

I have finally been learning how to operate and now am being pushed into gallbladder operations. I get excited to go clinic since any case I book are ones I get to do. That soldier mentality is paying off by me bringing back a large volume of cases. I am also beginning to get a feel for the types of surgeries I like.

Pics of my new place will be posted once it is 100% up and running.

Settling in

2010-07-06T23:07:00.002-04:00

I still do not as of yet have reliable internet. This will be solved soon. I have begun work in my new hospital and it is a huge change. Nurses are helpful, co-residents are helpful and generally everyone is happier. In my 2nd day I did more chest tubes than I had all of last year. The more time I spend in my new job, the more I realize how much of a total farce my previous program had been. The chiefs in my new program are not only intelligent, but skilled and not arrogant. It has been already a huge relief not having to constantly look behind me to make sure noone is trying to stab me in the back.

As for my new town; a few observations there. I noticed more tattoos per capita than anywhere I ever have been. I do assume not everyone I live around are construction workers, plumbers or professional bums. I imagine a few being accountants and lawyers. Also anyone female over age 21 seems to have at least 2 children. This just screams of high class. It also seems that this place is the obesity capital, even people in my gym are fat.

I also have found my newest nemesis. I will call him Sgt. Douche. He is my neighbor and he drives a huge monster truck. He seems to be of the belief that he can cram his tank into the narrow spots they allow us in my new complex to park in. That being said, he seems to think that I need to give him even more space to allow him to park his monstrosity even though my car sits well within the confines of my spot. I had nearly forgotten to mention Sgt. Douche is an ex-marine who borrows most of his dialogue from Randy "Macho Man" Savage. It will make things more interesting. He has not even directly spoken to me about this. Instead he has gone through the management company, who have threatened to tow my car. This is ironic, since I am barely home. I think life is beginning to become interesting again.

I have arrived

2010-06-27T18:08:00.002-04:00

I have begun learning how to live all over again. I arrived in California a few days ago and have begun the process of acquiring essential items to life such as a car, furniture and a place to live. I was surprised how easily these were obtained in my new home. My first observations in the fiefdom of the Governator are that people tend to be much more friendly. Everyone was really helpful once they found out I came from NY. Now I am the owner of a new Ford named Henry the Ford. I also got a lease a one bedroom which still reminds me of a dorm room. It will take some getting used to how apartments are styled. It is still much bigger than any apartment I had in NY and still cheaper even if it is expensive by the standards of where I am living.

As it turns out I will be living in a really high crime part of California, especially in the area of car theft. It is good my car is not flashy and it will be behind an iron fenced in compound for the most part. Maybe this is vestigial NY paranoia. It could be the same reason I am considering carrying mace when I run there. It turns out the city where I will be living is rated as one of the least desirable cities to live in America. Also it has one of the highest crime rates. I now understand why my pay will be so high.

I learned the my responsibilities will be increased beyond that of a typical second year resident. It appears I will be taking senior level calls at times depending on the rotation I will be on. I know I will have to be on the top of my game so to speak. I am comforted by the fact that my co-residents are already supportive of me. It was amusing to hear a shocked yelp when I explained that I had lived in NY for the entirety of my life until now. It is a drastic change from everyone around me being malicious or apathetic. I always commented that all they needed were hobbies and they would stop harassing me. I did not notice the same drama from my co-residents. It is refreshing. I think I finally will be able to concentrate on doing my job and not be so badly distracted like this year.

California, you are hereby served notice. I am here. Prepare to be rocked.

Last chopper out of 'Nam

2010-06-15T15:38:00.002-04:00

After yet another hiccough in my job hunt finally was smoothed over, I am finally preparing to move out. Apparently Hell Hole Hospital will give me a certificate of graduation from there. Luckily I do not have too many possessions to move. After moving 3 times in the last 5 years I have become a professional. I also have finally replaced my digital camera which broke last year. I am optimistic I will have a lot which will be worth taking pictures of.

I am excited as I am due a substantial raise, will have lower rent and live in a nicer city. My co-residents have already told me that on weekends off they crash in nearby San Francisco. I am sure for my first year I will feel like a tourist as there is a lot to see all over the state. I already have plans to go lift weights on muscle beach for the novelty.

I know this should be where I have a final indictment of what went wrong this year. I also am exhausted. I grew tired of fighting the administration, my chiefs, co-residents and life in general this year. I am relieved now that I was finally allowed to be an intern in my last week. I was impressed at my ability to fix 2 hernias by myself. I credit my time as a medical student being assigned to an attending who was the premier authority on them as to how I was able to learn the procedure. The only reason I was even allowed to scrub on the cases was because my chiefs were mysteriously absent. To my credit both were done well. At least my institution apologized to me for the horrible treatment.

See you on the other side.

Escape, finally

2010-05-29T13:28:00.002-04:00

After 2 false starts and months of agonizing frustration I have finally done it. I have officially closed the chapter on the drama of finding a new job. To quickly recap, I had just matched as a surgery resident. I had considered myself lucky as I had escaped the curse of being a DO and went to an allopathic program. This would allow me the ability to apply to allopathic fellowships, a feat which would have been impossible from osteopathic programs. Osteopathic fellowships are few, far between and generally inferior. Now I am embarking on the boldest thing I have ever done. I am leaving the home I have known my whole life and moving west. Until my interview at my new home, I had never been to California. I recall baseball legend Phil Rizzutto calling the state the land of fruits and nuts. So far I like what I see. I am happy to be out of the holding pattern my life took this year now that this major issue is settled.

I had lost faith in the system after I matched. I expected not to be in the OR very much as an intern. What I did not expect was to have cases which were my level taken from me by my chiefs. It made me highly suspicious that they were incompetent as generally chief residents in surgery will usually take the more difficult cases. The few times I was brought in to scrub with them, they did little to prove me wrong. I actually showed one of them how to insert a chemo port. My new institution promises to make me far better skilled. It is not anything other than repetition which anyone needs to become a good surgeon and it was obvious my chiefs never had that. The other tactic which I was subject to this year by others including my chiefs was attempts at psychological intimidation when it was clear their incompetence was exposed. To my credit, I never backed down.

I also learned how to be the master of improvisation. Many times, supplies were either in short supply or just did not exist. I had to use a mosquito clamp (tiny clamp used to remove staples) to insert a chest tube, when mysteriously noone had a proper clamp to do so. It was probably a blessing in disguise I never learned laparoscopy this year as the equipment my hospital had was in general disrepair. The instruments were, bent, graspers had jaws which did not fully close, cauteries which did not work. Simple items such as scissors were usually dull and had never been serviced in years. Normally after a few months of use items such as retractors, scissors and clamps need to be sent to the manufacturer to be serviced and sharpened.

Luckily, my new hospital will be a much less hostile environment. I also will finally just be able to concentrate on performing my job and not on peripheral items such as securing a new position. I was assured that things such as having sutures which hold and more importantly are name branded exist there. This will be an exiting trip, maybe the most exciting I will ever experience.

Changes in my life

2010-05-25T20:24:00.002-04:00

I am taking this opportunity to address changes which are going on in my life which are both drastic and happening alarmingly quickly. I have finally secured a place for me for next year. I will be going to a small community hospital in northern California which has an affiliation with a major university program in the area. They have an excellent reputation for academics in spite of their size, but cater to my working-man's mentality. It will be a change in culture for me which I will welcome. They already are looking to take me with open arms. My tales of using a mosquito clamp (small size clamp) to put in a chest tube (it was instrument usually not up to the task) and dealing with crazier patients than the population of San Quentin opened many eyes. The city which I will be living in is an improved version of Albany, a former residence of mine. Although Albany drove me to drink, I believe the environment will be different. For one, no snow means not confusing vodka for antifreeze. It seems my time spent on the other side of the tracks has enhanced my street cred.

Now what is being set in motion is the process of a cross-country move. I know others who have done this and my transition should be no longer than a week. In the meantime, I have things such as getting the paperwork started for my California state medical license. I also need to inform my friends and say my goodbyes. It will be bittersweet to leave behind the life I made in NY, but I am good at creating opportunities for myself. I am a regular Houdini. I now will be "that guy on the west coast" that everyone seems to have.

I wondered what would be the catalyst to jump-start my energy and now I know. I was beginning to become boring again. My biggest fear in life is becoming boring, ordinary. I know it is an inevitability, one which I keep deferring. I am sure my future children will browse through my old pictures and point and tell me choice phrases such as "lameazoid" (I am assuming 20 years from now speech has gotten techier).

Now I have the motivation to get a new digital camera. This entire year I never was motivated to replace the one which broke in Greece. I did not think much of what was happening around me was worth capturing. Now I have a brand new chapter in life opened. I will have new adventures. This could be the script of a movie. A brand new plan is already unfolding for me.

Time winding down

2010-05-11T19:31:00.002-04:00

Once again, I disappeared down a rabbit hole. I owe noone excuses for it, anyone who has ever read this blog knows the hours I have adopted. Unfortunately there is still no resolution to where I will be spending next summer and beyond. I am confident however that something will be found, noone in these situations walks away with nothing. This is close to repeating a closed chapter of my life.

I had just finished college and I knew I would not be applying to medical school that year. I only had an extremely abstract idea of what I really wanted to accomplish that year. My goal was to strengthen my application, however that was to be arranged. I finished like so many others, no job and only a piece of vellum which stated I spent 4 years drinking in a college town upstate. Of course there was a lot of scrambling around and various odd jobs taken that summer until a more concrete idea was formed and acted upon. Of course the cap to that summer was my decision to get a master's in engineering as well as my first full time job for an employer I still refer to even to this day as Lardass (he actually operated under a number of aliases).

My current situation is far from hopeless. It is continually frustrating, but I know that I will never return to Hell Hole Hospital or to Doucheville, CT. Those two facts alone are worth their weight in gold. I know there is a lot of pressure on my institution to assist with my placement. I have accumulated my share of stories from this year, most institutions of the unique caliber this one is will produce those. I need to find an appropriate way of writing about them so as to not violate things such as HIPAA, as well as my own personal feelings of using actual peoples' names or descriptions in anything I blog about. I feel it is childish to use this blog as a sounding board to slander people anonymously. For me it is much easier to insult someone creatively to their face.

I think some of the reasons I have not been blogging as frequently include: the massive distraction my program closure has brought on my life, an 80+ hour work week which has not allowed some of the former insanity I have experienced and perpetrated to happen. I think I just need to figure out how I want to stir things up again. I have been good at that. I will have more interesting news in the future, that is a promise.

Music roundup

2010-04-21T12:24:00.002-04:00

Since I have some newfound free time, I can finally comment on a few other goings on in my universe. I have *procured* in some way or another a few new records to my collection which has eaten a significant portion of the 5 year old portable hard drive on my desk. I have finally listened to new Fear Factory, Coheed and Cambria and Dillinger Escape Plan.

I was surprised to hear of Fear Factory's continued existence. They had gone through a number of issues with their record label mainly due to low sales and the band had broken up. I even had a pick their bass player threw into the crowd which I was lucky enough to catch. I had heard rumors they had been back in the studio, but thought nothing of it after listening to the last album they made. I was pleasantly surprised by this new one. It sounds like most other Fear Factory records, dark, fast and mechanical. The standout songs include powershifter and fear campaign. Dino Cazares is back in the band and the sound reflects it. He even has a small guitar solo; atypical of Fear Factory. They will never be a band which has a platinum record, but they are at least back to doing what they were successful at.

I also listened to the more progressive side of my tastes. Coheed and Cambria have done it again. Year of the Black Rainbow is another progressive rock masterpiece. They borrow from the more progressive side of their influences and much less from the punk and hardcore. The result is something multi-textured which takes a few listens to appreciate the full flavor. This concept album is the prequel to the rest of Claudio Sanchez's Amory Wars storyline. It is too confusing for someone who is simple such as I am to follow, but the musicianship is undeniable. I was lucky enough to see them live before they were known to anyone and they have come a long way since then.

The last brief review I have is of Dillinger Escape Plan's newest. I had never understood them until I began playing jazz guitar. Their unique sense of rhythm then made sense to me. Their newest continues this tradition. Each song is a roller coaster ride with less throwing up. They lurch, jerk and jar. There are plenty of atonal and chromatic passages as well as jazz style chord solos. It would not be the music I would work out to, but perfect for any other time.

I learned of Peter Steele's death. It is a tragedy for the metal scene in Brooklyn. I was privileged enough to see Type O play at Lamour's which also has been closed for a number of years. I also watched Mariano Rivera close out the world series with him on my birthday when his band played a familiar upstate haunt of mine a long time back. Now that my mind has been out of the hospital for a little while I have been much happier.

Independence day

2010-04-20T14:27:00.004-04:00

I am sure everyone is wondering what the title of the post is for. This would be because today is Israel's independence day. My people's land is 62 years young. Since I finally have some free time, last night I went to celebrate with a few of my other fellow Jews. Yes I know, a surprising nugget of personal information. This could have been easily ascertained if anyone bothered reading previous posts however. I felt it was a personal obligation to support my people. This is the same one which drove me to volunteer on an ambulance in Israel during my time in medical school. I had a skill which not everyone had and an opportunity to give back.

The location I went to featured a number of speakers from the Israeli government, victims of terrorist attacks and local members of government. It reminded me of why I had voted against Obama. Yes a surprising political statement. Actually the Jewish reggae act phrased it perfectly in Hebrew about him. Jewish reggae band? A night of novelties last night. The only thing which would have made the night even more fun would have been Evan Seinfeld busting a few heads. He makes the "bear Jew" from Inglourious Basterds appear well mannered and pleasant.

Since I finally have time off, I can finally catch up on life. It is ironic since the next few weeks will be busier than my time on the surgical floors. I will have to map each hour of my day to insure I get each hour's fullest potential. Ironically much of it will be spent working out my employment for July. At least the certainties are: I will not return to Doucheville, CT and I will not return to Hell Hole Hospital. That being said I have laid out a road map of potential plans. Each one should lead to employment, it just depends in what capacity. My mood has improved just because I finally have a day off for the first time in 35 days. I had been taking Saturday call for 5 weeks in a row. I would have not minded as much if not for the fact that it was extremely uninteresting. Any surgeries needed to be done emergently were ones I was not going to scrub for despite being routine appendixes (appropriate for my level). It is similar to another institution which is close to mine where similar things happen.

I know via one of my various plans I will be employed. I also know just like when I started my crusade to get to this current position, my detractors will be shocked. I have been in this situation before: written off, left for dead, told I was not going to make it. Each time not only have I succeeded but made them all eat their words. This time will be no different.

tap tap Is this thing on?

2010-04-12T19:41:00.002-04:00

I know it has seemed like forever since I last posted. I will not lie and say I have been ignoring this blog. I will instead be truthful and write about how my year has disintegrated in front of me. I suppose I was due for a bad year. I can recall the last one I had in some vivid detail. I was 19, I got shingles the day of September 11,2001. The entire year after I was plagued with one bout of bronchitis and sinusitis after another as well as mysterious, unexplained GI disturbances. I do realize that at that time it was the beginning of a transformation. I had begun a slow emergence from being angry, confused, depressed and purposeless to suddenly finding meaning. I had never placed any expectations on myself until that day and it was that day I decided to take control of my life.

As for this year: it began on a happy note. I had finally accomplished what I set out to do all those years ago; graduate medical school. I had fought hard and managed to get into a competitive specialty. I finally said goodbye to my former punk-ass classmates. I thought of this as a fresh start. I had drive and energy. Then July started. Within 3 days of being in Doucheville, CT, I knew I had to find a way out. My spirits had been crushed that quickly. It seemed as though no matter how hard I tried I could not get a single thing right. I finally screamed "What do you people want from me? A pint of blood?" in total exasperation. At that point, they knew I was already broken and the proverbial sharks smelled blood. My first month post-medical school was met with everyone above me being condescending, arrogant and nasty to me. A younger, hyper-aggressive me would probably have done something ill-advised at that point, but it still was tearing me apart from the inside that I could not fight back. At least I could not fight back in the way I was accustomed to.

Eventually, as I learned more about my co-residents, cracks in the armor appeared. I learned how to make sure they kept their distance. The unexpected then happened, my program was closed by the ACGME. I had already been devising ways to leave my current program, but this seemed to provide me with the perfect escape route. As an orphan resident, my program had to place me somewhere else. I had heard past stories of others who had gone to programs they normally would have not been considered for when situations such as these arose. I still was extremely demoralized as the year progressed. I watched as those above me stole cases which were intern level and did not offer to bring lower level residents to teach them. The cases which I got to do, I was treated at the level of a medical student. I got to occasionally close skin and hold retraction. My morale was crushed every time I went to the operating room. I knew what the residents in different places were doing at my level and it incensed me. My only comfort is that it is still early in my career and next year I can make up for any time lost now.

As for right now, I seem to be in a holding pattern. Every option seems to be exhausted and my position for next year is still in question. It is a depressing idea that everything I worked so hard to accomplish could end. I still do believe that I am guaranteed a place in a program to finish my training, but so far all that has happened has been "hurry up and wait". I will come back with better news, I promise.

My day so far

2010-03-18T16:55:00.001-04:00

Now that I am back to the same position I was back in September, my days are beginning to look the same. I finally had a day off today and I spent a whole morning on the phone. It might not have been the worst scenario in having the other hospital back out of the deal I thought I had with them. They could have been extremely diabolical about my money, my future and my career. They could have easily recorded my salary as one grade and then actually paid me a lower amount. The program director could then have pocketed the difference. They also could have easily told me that "there was no room to make me a resident" and then hired me as a house physician (work as a resident, but not for credit).

Now my major crisis is getting the support of my program director. There is another NY area hospital which closed and their residents seem to have no problem finding places. I am certain this is due to their program director having made a name for himself. Ours, not so much. The good is he is no longer getting in my way, the bad is he is not contributing anything to this process.

Now, as for the rest of my day. So after I wasted who knows how many cell phone minutes trying to find more interested hospitals, I went for a 7 mile run. It was good weather and I sweated a healthy amount. It made the shower once I got home more worth it. Overall, it seems my speed is still pretty good. Aside from a waste of protoplasm driving a BMW trying to run me over, my run was fairly uneventful. I then decided to go to my secret thinking spot. This is where this current post is being written. I needed somewhere to go and recharge. This has historically been the location where I am most productive. It contains all the necessary elements for this to happen; internet signal which I can poach and coffee, strong coffee.

So far though, not too much other thinking is being done. The only thing which it seems I can do is barrel on ahead and make more phone calls. Speaking of which, I happened to find the "Complete idiot's guide" series of books. The title seems pointless. If someone was in fact a complete idiot, they would never know the book existed. Also, most things the guides provide guidance for are things which seem to be common sense for other lesser idiots. This brings me to my next point: Baby Einstein DVDs. These videos are supposed to help everyone's ~~future gas station attendant~~ ~~hell spawn~~ child learn to talk more quickly and read by age 1. It amazes me how many people have fallen for this. Your stupid child will not get any smarter with these DVDs!!!! What may give your little mucus factory a chance would be to read to him, play with him and not drop him in front of a TV!! In conclusion, these, along with Baby Einstein DVDs should not exist.

snarl

2010-03-17T16:00:00.002-04:00

So in a shocking turn of events, the hospital which had agreed in principle to accepting me for next year backed out. This is beginning to put me in a tight situation, but not one which is impossible. The ACGME does still guarantee me a place for next year. They need to find one for me.

To that end I have resumed my phone calls. It is unfortunate that I have to resort to sending mass emails again. It also is unfortunate to not receive any support from our program director. This has "generated many phone calls" in some familiar, famous words. Hopefully the DIO of our parent institution deals with him appropriately and we find places. This has been just one disappointment in a year which has been filled with them.

Finally free

2010-03-10T08:17:00.004-05:00

Forgot I had this thing. My program has been officially closed. This means only one thing: I am free. My deal with the hospital in Brooklyn is in the final stages of being finished, but it has not stopped me from still applying for other jobs. I have learned hospitals == dirty business. I have already interacted with more high level administration this year than I care to ever do for the rest of my life. The good is that our program director has found some hospitals which are interested in taking us. The bad is some of these are in places worse than Doucheville, CT such as North Dakota. I am certain though no matter where I go I will get better training than my current institution.

Maybe if I do stay in surgery, the next place will re-ignite my passion for it. What propelled me into surgery was the fun experience I had when I was a medical student. The back-stabbing and general douchebaggery which is present in my current place was not there. People functioned as a team and worked together. This is as opposed to the residents higher up shirking responsibilities and passing them to people lower down. The mark of the incompetent is to supervise. This makes it appear irrelevant that they may not know what they are doing since the task is now your responsibility. Where I was a medical student, there was not much supervising of anyone. It was understood what everyone's jobs were and slip-ups were dealt with appropriately. Maybe this is the crux of the "chicken or the egg" debate I was having with myself. Which comes first? better professors or better students? I am just assuming whichever new home I have next year will have to be better than here.

New music sucks

2010-02-19T20:49:00.002-05:00

I think everyone is finally due a post which did not contain a rant about my job. This one will be about my other favorite pastime: music. I am not sure what the fuss is over Lady Gaga. Really, I am not sure why anyone likes any of the current acts today. Most new music sucks. Really, I cannot recall anything mainstream which I enjoyed listening to in 15 years. This brings me to the point of my post: Why does everyone like Lady Gaga. "She's so talented" "Such a great song writer". If any of you worthless sacks of donkey manure would wipe the drool off your faces you would realize she is not a musician, she is an entertainer. Musicians spend years struggling to be noticed, play in dingy bars perfecting their songs, get a van and a drug problem.

Allow me to analyze the talentless, makeup caked, former stripper which is Lady Gaga. First off, as anyone knows most pop singers have their voices carefully adjusted in the studio with state of the art pitch correction software. This can make a voice which sounds like a cat in a blender sound amazing with a few clicks of a mouse. All the music is pre-sequenced samples. These are not real instruments, only things which have been stolen from other musicians and then layered together using a more sophisticated version of Garage Band. Performing live, like all other pop stars, she lip synchs.

If I wanted to see a makeup caked troll embarrassing herself in front of an audience, I would watch the Jersey Shore. If I wanted to see someone wearing ridiculous costumes, I may as well buy a ticket to see Marilyn Manson. Somehow he is labelled as "shock rock", while her similar act is labelled as "talent". He also wears ridiculous costumes and has makeup caked on him. People wonder why record sales have been declining over the last decade. It has nothing to do with file sharing software. If there was anything decent being released, people would go buy it. I remember a time that Soundgarden, Nine Inch Nails and even Ozzy Osbourne were on the pop stations. These bands had actual talent. They spent years paying their dues. They were not hand-picked by a producer and then given an elite team of song writers to put words in their mouths and be shills.

Maybe this is just me facing my age and cringing. I had said "metal till I'm 60" many years ago and I am beginning to have second thoughts. Next time possibly another rant on dating.

I float at night

2010-02-09T19:26:00.002-05:00

So this is now a week removed from Doucheville, CT and not enough vodka, Manhattans or Xanax can erase the memories. I forgot about crack nursing staff of my parent institution. I get called now since nurses are too lazy to put in IV's. Also since I am night float this month, I have the 4am ~~violation of my dignity~~ blood draw in the ICU. I am counting the months down until I get to move back to Brooklyn. This certainly will not solve many problems, but it will at least answer the question of what I will be doing for the next few years. It will also help me move closer to solving other "life problems".

So far night float has been not as painful as I imagined it. It helps that I am working with a good resident (one of the few in my ~~hell hole~~ ~~place not fit for humans~~ program). The complete disruption of my day/night cycle has been disorienting. Breakfast has become dinner and dinner has become an afterthought. The good about being night coverage is I do not need to write notes on anyone. The bad are calls to put in central lines at 11pm for things which could wait until morning such as TPN (IV nutrition). At least now however I am assured of not becoming a work hour violation. Due to my suddenly newfound free time, I am also back on a regular guitar practice schedule again. I am hoping to get my project of teaching myself flamenco and jazz guitar back on track. It may give me a few new ideas when I attempt writing music again. This points back to more advantages of being in anesthesia: predictable hours. Soon life will pick itself back up again and then I will have more stories to share, I promise.

Finally out of CT

2010-02-02T16:37:00.002-05:00

I have finally cleared out of CT. It is finally the end of a nightmare which began in July when I was first introduced to the place. I was at the very start of my intern year, I did not know the workings of my program and I was thrust into an unfamiliar situation. For my first month I was bullied and taken advantage of by everyone imaginable out of ignorance. I was forced to live in an insect infested place I would barely classify as a dwelling. I was also pushed into taking extra calls which I later found out I did not have to do. Not to worry, I will get even. I always do.

I actually felt my skills diminishing by the day. I had expected to progress as the year went on and thus far I have been as useful as the med students who preceded me in holding retraction. Our program directors both in NY and there harped on how poor our in-service exam scores were. Ultimately both sides were equally culpable, both by commission and omission. The commission occurring on the NY side by lectures which were either low yield or not relevant at all (ie. lectures on spine surgery). The omission occurring on the CT side by completely ignoring educational activities of any sort and then calling everyone stupid. Note how no solutions have been offered for this problem or our earth-shaking 0% pass rate on surgery boards. If I actually cared about being a surgeon at this point it might make me angry. In a way this reminds me a lot of my former med school. I managed to survive that and prove all my detractors wrong. It makes me happy to have engineered my escape.

Onto happier things. I plan on having a party once my schedule normalizes after I finish this month of night float. I might even begin looking at prices of apartments in Brooklyn. I have already begun reading the recommended textbook before I start. I was told I will be much more autonomous than I am currently so I really need to know what I am doing. It both empowers me and scares me simultaneously. I think the fear is a necessary element in this. At least after this year I will be able to do more of what one of my idols has always said: PARTY HARD.

My little friend on my hip

2010-01-26T19:25:00.003-05:00

This post is going to be dedicated to the one thing which all residents across all medical specialties cringe at the sound of: *beep beep beep*. The pager: the item which unites surgeons with anesthesiologists and ER doctors with pathologists in loathing.

Here is a smattering of things I have been (stupidly) paged about at 3am.

Nurse: I just noticed 3 moles on the patient's back. Can you take a look?

Me: It's 3 in the morning and I am not a dermatologist.

Nurse: But you're a doctor. Can't you just look at it?

Me: I am marginally a doctor and I am hanging up.

Nurse: The patient you ordered D5 1/2 normal saline on is diabetic. You can't give dextrose if she's diabetic right?

Me: Yes you can, especially since we aren't feeding her. Just cover her with a sliding scale (insulin).

Nurse: But she's...

*click*

Nurse: Just wanted to tell you your patient is doing fine.

Me: umm it's 3 in the morning, page when something isn't fine.

As for other news: I am now a few days from vacating the premises in Doucheville, CT. Next step is to begin reading an anesthesia textbook and eventually to begin looking for a new apartment. Soon the results of the site visit my current program underwent in November will be back, but in light of recent events things appear grim. This is exactly as I predicted from the beginning. Luckily I will be on my way back to Brooklyn and hopefully will have more fun adventures there.

Almost forgot to mention my awards

2010-01-08T21:44:00.003-05:00

As all of you know, I have my annual tradition. I give 2 awards to some extremely deserving people each year on January 1. These 2 awards are: The Dull Thud Award for Amazing Achievements in the field of Stupidity and Biggest Douche in the Universe. This year these awards will go to respectively: my B & S list and my douchebag chief. The achievements of these stalwarts are noted as such. My B & S list (belligerent and stupid) are a vapid collection of my coworkers who remind me in so many ways of my former punk-ass med school classmates who used to belittle me for working hard and were extra condescending at all times. The difference now is that they are in positions of power and can allocate the workload. This generally means I will shoulder the blame for their mistakes and be treated in the most abusive manner possible. Your day of reckoning is coming my friends, your ABSITE scores tell volumes.

My douchebag chief earned his award by exceeding the condescending and abusive nature of my B & S list tenfold. He managed to outdo an old boss who I affectionally used to refer to as Lardass in overall douchebaggery. He even managed to outdo last year's winner who I lovingly named Cockengrabbenhausen. His abusive behavior toward me knew no bounds. His creepiness outshined last year's winner by miles. I now know why girls give fake phone numbers after he interrogated me for my home address. Not to worry my friends, he has a long way to climb to throw a brick through the window of the apartment I named which is not even mine. Luckily in his horrible state of health he would not be able to throw a brick more than 2 feet if he could even lift it.

I have learned from both of these winners, being arrogant and abusive is only to compensate for lack of confidence and stupidity. I am happy I am counting the days off until my return to Brooklyn.

Sentence commuted

2010-01-07T17:56:00.002-05:00

So I have begun my ~~sentence~~ rotation in the hell-hole known as rural CT. Actually, I am already a week down and 3 more to go. I have received some good news. ~~My sentence has been commuted~~ I will only spend one month there. Due to some staffing issues at our parent hospital, I will be moved back there to work nights for next month. It also means that according to my schedule, this month is the last I see of CT. I am now really excited to count off the days.

Going back to CT was similar to all the gatherings with my cousins. I have no desire to be there, it is filled with blowhards and the only thing to get the memories out of my head might be a bullet. Also there is really noone there who shares many of my values. It is not as though these are bad people, they just think differently. I am on the cardiothoracic team for this month. It means less patients, but the assistant program director is in charge of most of the patients since he is one 2 CT surgeons in the hospital. It will make for an interesting month. Pray for no Brazilian punks attempting to mug me because of the cold.

I am sure everyone is dying to know what I have been up to for the last number of days. For one, I managed to party on New Year's eve in spite of being on call the next day. Noone could tell I had spent a night of moderately priced fun the next morning during rounds, except for the fact that I smelled like a frenchman. I wound up going to a small, cozy gathering hosted by my favorite med student. She was the first one to rotate with me in July. It carries lots of sentiment to be the first med student to break in a new intern and vice versa. I finally broke the news to her of my plans for next year. I also think my place may have a party or 2 left in it before I finally vacate the premises.

A good night for a celebration

2009-12-25T12:41:00.003-05:00

Now I think is a good time to divulge details of my next few years' plan. I have decided to switch from surgery to anesthesia for a multitude of reasons. I think this will be good for me in that I can have time for a life, family etc. and not feel wasted and burned out. I will be doing this in a busy Brooklyn hospital, which in my grand tradition, I will not name. Now that I have learned that all there is left are a few administrative formalities, I realized the time was right for celebration.

This of course meant going into the city and enduring the reliable Metro North service. My partner in crime and I found ourselves in a small east villiage club/lounge which was filled with various carnival freaks. The sword swallower immediately triggered flashbacks to physiology class and learning about the swallowing mechanism. I even ran into one of my biggest fans there. She was someone who has read this blog in its various forms since I was in medical school. It was a huge morale boost for me. It feels strange to appreciated. I also ran into other close friends who I had not seen in quite some time. After spending some time in the east villiage, we then went cross-town to the meat packing district. The irony there is we ran into the same people again. We all had our vodka/Jameson's/beer and celebrated for all our various reasons.

As for how I reached this point: a lot of hard work (obviously). The minute I learned my current program was being closed, I set out and explored my options for a new home. I took advantage of my time on night float and used the fact that I was available at 1 in the afternoon to contact program directors. Unfortunately 40 programs later, I was receiving the same answers. We would like to add another resident because we are swamped, but the case load is not big enough to support you. So I began trying other fields I was interested in. I tried ortho and got the same answers. At this point I began becoming demoralized on surgery due to the work ethics of everyone around me and various others who had excessive interests in my personal life and goings on. I then began contacting anesthesia programs. There I hit paydirt. I began getting interviews, which luckily happened for the most part during my vacation so I told noone.

At this point, the program which was interested in me required a letter from my current program stating my funding would transfer with me. This is where things became sticky. My hospital is in financial trouble and although doing what was proper and moral would have been to release the funds, they did not. It was at their discretion whether or not to release them and they were not going to -- willingly anyway. First I contacted my program director pleaded with him to let me leave. He fairly forcefully said no. I then called the ACGME. They explained that it was the DIO (designated institutional official) of my parent institution who makes these decisions. I was rotating at my parent institution at the time and decided to stop by his office to inquire as to our status. I had my game plan for him too. If he gave me any answer besides yes I was going to tell him "it will be in the best interests of this institution and its programs to release my funds". Actually, I repeated this phrase 3 times during our conversation. This is legalese for "if you do not do what I say, bad things will happen to you". What he did not understand was that I fully intended on making some "bad things" happen to him. A number of others in my program also had received offers and wanted out as well. We banded together and met again with him. We explained our perspective and he again turned us away. After drafting a letter to send to our governing body with our complaints, him, the CEO of the hospital and program director decided it would be in their "best interests" after all to let us find positions of our choosing. I had gone up against an institution which will be soon bought for $1Billion without the assistance of a lawyer and won. I am finally free. Brooklyn, get ready for me. I am coming home.

Mission Accomplished

2009-12-24T18:42:00.001-05:00

Without divulging very much, I have been accepted in a program in Brooklyn. After this year that is where I will move. That is all.

Jailbreak!!!!!

2009-12-17T16:51:00.000-05:00

We have engineered our escape. More to follow when I can.

What's for dinner

2009-12-06T22:24:00.007-05:00

After spending an ~~energetic~~ unbelievably dull call over Saturday, I decided to expand my cooking repertory. I needed to do something to cheer myself up since Saturday call is just the way to waste a whole weekend and doing it at the hospital where I am currently will drive anyone to suicide. The one nurse I did not want near my patients was in charge of all of them and I was paged every 15 minutes until her shift mercifully ended. Luckily after her, my favorite nurse took over. In between, I had a few mini-meltdowns, as well as playing the roles of: x-ray tech, nurse, phlebotomist, IV access team and security. If only I could get shares of all of their paychecks. I did not have many patients (started with 10 and discharged 3), but they were labor intensive enough to be 30. By the end of my 24 hours I was burned out and enraged, like how my week normally ends. Thusly, my way to stave off interminable rage this weekend: plantains.

Be amazed ~~stalkers~~ ~~peons~~ readers, you are about to take a journey you will soon never forget.

I used my prized heavy 6" heavy chef's knife to cut the skin off a green plantain.

Then I fried them on both sides

I then drained them on a paper towel and used the side of my heavy knife and my trusty fist to flatten them and refry them.

I then also made a burrito with spinach and my own chicken chemical warfare style. It was enough to brighten my mood.

Not to worry, I have plenty of other stories to share. I am just unsure of the proper forum for them. Enjoy the pictures, I know I enjoyed eating the food.

Guitar surgery

2009-11-29T17:41:00.004-05:00

My time in the burn ward in a better hospital has ended. Although I was not the most enamored with the patients or the procedures, the increase in skill level I gained in that short month has been invaluable. Now starting this week it will be back to the ~~hell hole~~ ~~salt mine~~ ~~place where I am not going to be taught anything~~ sunny happy place that is my home institution. I have already devised my exit strategy.

In the mean time I finally had the time and money to make a repair to Blackie, my newest guitar. One of the wires broke from its solder and my screaming hot bridge pickup was no longer working. Off I went to Home Depot to gather my supplies.

Soldering iron, hot glue gun, fine rosin core solder: check

I then plugged into my amp to make sure the repair held. I then covered all solders with a generous amount of hot glue to protect them. Next step: go to Ibanez and order a new back plate to cover it all for good.

I delicately re-soldered the wire back in place

I know it is tough to spot in that mess of spaghetti but my wire has been re-soldered.

My Home Depot trip also yielded me a new Mag Lite. My old one finally gave out after 15 years of service. The replacement is the 3 D battery Daryl Gates LAPD police brutality edition Mag Lite.

The next month will be a serious test of my patience and endurance. My entire B & S list will be there. My phone will be guaranteed to ring non-stop all day every 15 minutes. I will be barraged with pointless stories from one of them on blueberries or maybe a different fruit such as himself. If only they all got hemorrhoids or another disease which involved rectal bleeding. Note how I never once mentioned grueling surgeries or salvos of traumas in the ER. I think if there was actual work to do many of these problems would not exist. Actually I digress; these problems would double my workload. Being "supervised" such as they do is usually the mark of the lazy and incompetent. At least I finished another licensing exam this month, but another exam is on the horizon. I still believe my apartment has a few parties left in it and I intend to test that theory. My next post will likely be from my iPhone, pray for me.

Various stories of different degrees of turpitude

2009-11-14T19:24:00.002-05:00

As all you readers know I ~~am sentenced to go~~ rotate in a small city in Connecticut which I affectionately call Doucheville, CT. There are of course a few stories which happened in the summer I spent there which I am finally in the mood to tell.

For my first 2 weeks of my ~~jail sentence~~ rotation, I commuted from my apartment in NY. I had heard horrible stories of how filthy the resident house was and I was in no mood to stay there. Besides, I was already paying for an apartment so I ought to use it. One day on the drive home, I noticed a few things. The first thing I noticed was a sign on 684 which said deer crossing. The next thing I noticed was a deer jumping out from the shoulder of the road across the front of my Ford Junk Bucket (tm). It clipped my right front fender and suddenly I saw the front of the road in my rear view mirror. I spun out in one more full 360 and ended up in the shoulder of the road. It was a surreal moment where I was not sure if I was even alive. I sat in my car with the engine still running for a few minutes before I felt it was safe to move. I then checked myself for injuries, with none there I proceeded to look at my car. All my car suffered was a small dent to the right fender. With that problem squared away, I then tried to search for the deer. I was not about to let it escape, I wanted to finish the job. Unfortunately the deer was nowhere to be found. I doubt I would have caught it anyway, even though it would have made for better entertainment. I drove home and had 2 shots of Jack before going to sleep. That was strike one against you CT.

Strike 2 occurred only 2 weeks later. I had gone on my run after I finished another miserable day of being talked down to in the hospital when suddenly I heard loud Portuguese behind me. I turned around and 5 dark shapes had begun running behind me. They were starting to gain on me. I realized these dullards wanted to rob me. I was not sure if they realized that unless they wanted my running shorts, I had nothing of value on me. I took another look behind me and took off. I watched each one drop block by block. I turned around, stopped and much like the Roadrunner in all those Looney Toons cartoons I flipped them all off and blasted away into the darkness. They completely ruined the talk I had gotten about the town during my interview for my program. They had said it was "a cute little town". Wrong!! It is a dump just on the other side of state lines which houses some of the lowest forms of life. I also was forced by those above me to live in the roach and silverfish infested resident house for my next month in Doucheville. My mattress was worn-out, unsteady and intermittently insect life crawled out of it. All of us complained repeatedly about the state of the house, but the mess was blamed on us. This must be the administration's cruel intern hazing.

Strike 3 was the collective misery which I experienced in the 2 months there. I felt like I was in jail. I had only a few activities which I could do. I could practice guitar, work out, run, study or work at the hospital. The limited days I had off, I was so tired I could barely move. Unfortunately, I have learned small town America is not going to be for me. Especially when that small town is in the vicinity of other run-down small towns in upstate NY. Since it is in CT however, it a small town, only snootier. Yes CT, I am done with you and your douchey ways.

The ghoulish goulian knife and other tales of the burn ward

2009-11-07T13:49:00.005-05:00

Hi everyone, I have resurfaced like a bad penny again. This month is my outside rotation to my parent hospital in their burn ward. It is a relief because I have a 1 month vacation from people I work with who I have on my B & S list (stands for belligerent and stupid). Being back in the OR again has been great. I have been granted much more autonomy than I have before by the burn fellow. It has been a huge spurt of positive reinforcement so far. This is a contrast to those on my B & S list whose every question asked of me is an indictment of me as well as an expression of their using it to compensate for their incompetence by nit picking. According to the nurses in the ward noone from my program has been sent there in over a year. I wonder why....

The work I have done this month alternates between tragic and downright ghoulish. My patients this month alternate between being the victim of a tragic accident or being clinically insane. They either have been victims of events such as flaming car wrecks, work-related accidents, or have attempted commit suicide by self immolation because Richard Simmons has instructed them. Readers please note, Richard Simmons will not drive most people to suicide, but only cause them to hammer nails under their fingernails.

This week has been a whirlwind of things. I have already done more cases this week than I had in a month of work at my parent hospital. I also have been allowed to do much more in the OR. The burn fellow has had me excise dead, burned skin with a Goulian knife. This is no more than a straight razor. Sometimes the simplest tools are the best. I also have placed and tacked my own skin grafts in place. This can either be done with a stapler or hand-sewn. I have done both (take that B & S, at least half of you morons cannot even one-handed tie). I have also been on top of fluid management of one of our patients and staved him off renal failure. I even managed to save his belly button during the 4 hour marathon surgery when, me the burn fellow and a PA student excised his skin down to the fascia by burning it down with cauteries. Another one of our patients finally succumbed to sepsis and coded. I did say there was plenty of tragedy.

My tools of the trade:

I still have been searching for new work, but my morale has been somewhat restored after meeting with another of my fellow residents who has identical feelings on many things. These include : my B & S list, the state of the hospital in Doucheville, CT and the state of surgery in general. Maybe I just have been working with the wrong people. My personality anyway gears me to working better when I get rewarded and not cursed off all the time. I do not believe anyone needs to see more file photos of ass-hats I work with at this time. I am sure I will post more interesting stories soon, I am working at a real hospital now and not the Mickey Mouse operations I have been in so far.

Burn Ward

2009-10-31T18:39:00.002-04:00

Last night or so freedom until I spend a month in a burn ward. On the bright side this is a vacation from people who have demoralized me. More to follow.

Random musings

2009-10-20T22:26:00.002-04:00

I am still alive, just busy again. Still looking for a new job for next year. I really have nothing I want to broadcast on here about that. Instead of complaining about more condescension from residents above me, or how utterly moronic the nursing staff is I will instead broadcast my random thoughts. This is a well deserved vacation right now.

On spandex: Open letter to the fat lady in the shiny black leggings. Please adjust your contacts or have your prescription changed next time you decide to wear those. You resemble a hippo sprayed in black oil. Also to that guy in the gym wearing the running tights. It appears you are heterosexual. This may make me slightly more comfortable around you, but I do not need to see the outline of your genitalia when I bench press in your general area. Conversely, the 10/10 girl who I keep seeing in my gym can wear as much tight black spandex as she wants while being around me while I bench press.

On guidos: My new neighborhood has more of them than I remember seeing in Brooklyn or Long Island. They are more guido-y, if that is possible. They are entertaining to watch when I work out. They only work in biceps and chest. "Ayy Vinnie Boombots, you only benching 300? Pussy." "Abs? What's that?" It is amusing to see them walking around in skintight Ed Hardy t-shirts in 40 degree weather. They are also fairly amusing to watch protecting their harem of guidettes whenever I have gone out around my new area.

In other news, I have begun already thinning out the contents of my apartment. I am trying to only acquire necessary junk. I know after this year I am moving out of there.

A day in the life, or how I survived Saturday call part 2

2009-09-30T10:45:00.003-04:00

I have not made a "day in the life" type post in a while. I think everyone is due. My life seems to be changing a lot so this is probably appropriate. Everyone remembers the last Saturday call. This one is fairly similar but with more general ass-hattery.

7:00 - Arrive at hospital. My commute is a long 2 blocks. I curse life every step of it.
I get signout from the team from the night and my list of random tasks to do on the day

7:15- 9:00 - My phone rings non-stop with my senior's micromanaging of my morning. I do manage to get work done in between hearing "drop everything and do this" every 15 minutes on my phone. It makes me wonder if this is at the expense of her own work.

9:00 - I am told to drop everything because I will "be taught" to put in a femoral line. By be taught by my senior I mean that I was "supervised" while she unsuccessfully tried to puncture his femoral vein. I then took over and got it on the first try.

11:00 - I am finally finished with my random tasks for the day. I manage to hide and eat lunch.

11:15 - I get another phone call. This time it is to "be shown" how to debride a decubitus ulcer (bed sore). I get told I have the "extra special" task of being talked down to while she nervously picks away at a disgusting piece of rotting flesh with a scissor. Luckily she is paged away for something more important and I can actually make progress with a scalpel.

1:00 - After the ghoulish task of debridement things settle down for a while and I can stud...

1:10 - I get a call by a medicine resident about a hard to pass NG tube. I assume this is the general laziness of the medicine department. They have called me before in the middle of the night to put in IV's.

3:00 - After both me and the chief tried passing this tube for an hour each, we give up. It keeps coming out of the patient's mouth. I am still happy since I have not been "supervised" for a few hours. Maybe she decided to get her work done.

5:00 - Both me and the medical students disappear for a while and I manage to eat dinner and get some studying done. Mysteriously, my phone has not rung for a while.

7:00 - A trauma rolls in. A drugged-out looking woman got mauled by pit bulls. Her story seems inconsistent as it changes a few times. I just assume she did not pay her dealer on time. Really it is none of my concern. I am not in charge of documentation. All I was called in to do was to debride the 40 puncture wounds and suture them.

I take many liters of saline, a large syringe and a bucket to perform this messy task. 40 well washed out wounds later, they are ready to be debrided. Both me and the chief express large blood clots and cut away dead exposed muscle from her many open wounds. I then suture only the biggest wounds, but not totally closed since these are dirty wounds and they have to be left open to drain. The biggest of which was a 3 inch long gash which exposed deeper layers of muscle. Her mother has taken over the supervisory role while I do this and nothing will convince her to leave.

The patient is not too cooperative and I cannot do as thorough a job numbing the wounds since she keeps squirming when I inject her. This causes her to jump a few times when I begin to put in stitches.

12:00 - We finally sift through the trauma and I get dozens of pages from the nurses. Patients are spiking fevers left and right. Someone needs a tylenol. Someone's ass itches. I get paged for random patients who are not mine. I also manage to pass that patient's NG tube. The report on the chest x-ray says "tip of the NG tube is in the stomach". I am money.

2:00 - I begin devising my exit strategy for the next day. I pre-write as much as I can in all the notes for the next day. It is tedious, but I know it will allow me to leave more quickly in the morning.

4:00 - I have to go to the ICU to draw blood on our patients. This is the compromise reached between nursing and us. Instead of the resident in charge of the ICU drawing the blood, or nursing doing it, I get to do it. I use every dirty trick to make it go more quickly. I stick femoral arteries, radial arteries or anything which appears usable. I move quickly in the dark, like a blood stealing ninja and after a half hour I collect all the samples.

5:30 - I rest for an hour and begin seeing all the patients. This goes fairly uneventfully.

7:00 - Now the fireworks begin. Signout starts uneventfully except when I reach one patient on the list which I say I did not see since I was not comfortable writing a note about them. I had not been told much about this patient and it was a consult so I was not in charge. My senior was. I was repeatedly questioned by her why I did not see this patient. I answer only once and then after that ignore her. It drives her insane. Her partner in crime saw an excuse to hurl abuse my way as well. I also answer his questions in 3 words and ignore all other words from his mouth. Luckily the chief is on my side and berates both of them for sloughing work off on me all day and being incompetent. It was like a chorus of harpies.

Are you ass-hats multiplying? (File photo of my 2 ass-hats, similar to the last one eh?)

8:00 - Only 45 minutes later than I expected because of that hiccup. I retreat to my bed and snarl a lot before I go to sleep.

Sinking ships

2009-09-21T16:36:00.003-04:00

Hi everyone. I am back from my coffin, er I mean I am still working night float and am an honorary vampire. As anyone can imagine, I have been busy. I really have no need to explain that any further.

I had promised I would further elaborate on the second "sinking ship" I had been hinting about in previous posts. I have been informed my program is closing. Now I need to find a new place of employment for next year onward. This is not as catastrophic as it sounds however. I am protected by the ACGME (institution which accredits all medical residencies), so I will have a place for next year. It will only be a question of where that may be.

In a way I am happy this house of cards is crumbling. It wrote me my ticket out of Doucheville, CT. Most others in program have begun to realize now what I saw happening a month ago. I will survive. I appear to have that talent.

Cure-all for Sunday call for the next month

2009-09-05T22:16:00.003-04:00

I have half a weekend off all month because of night float. On call for every Sunday and then have to come back at 5 on Monday. Legal? Define legal. Legal is one of those annoying buzzwords people like to put into sentences. "It isn't legal sell that on the street". "It isn't legal put squirrels down someone's pants for the purposes of gambling". To hell with legal I say. Actually, just in reference to my "sinking ship" I keep referring to, this might be a minor infraction.

Anyway, I managed to go to my east Village hideout, have espresso, study in peace and meet this guy.

How is that for a power-packed day? I will be leaking more "sinking ship" saga details as I can, but I do see a light at the end of the tunnel.

Week 1 of night float

2009-09-03T13:45:00.002-04:00

I am back at my parent hospital and out of Doucheville, CT. That is the good news. The bad news is I am on night float. The patient lists are significantly shorter. That is also good news. The bad news is the ancillary staff is lazy enough to make the entire Coney Island Hospital look hard-working and professional. If a patient needs to go to x-ray, we have to take them. If a blood draw needs to get done, we do it. If an IV infiltrates in the middle of the night, let's not talk about that.

I live a vampire-like existence at this point. My sleep cycles have been disturbed to say the least. I also got more details about the "sinking ship" which I posted last about. The first one was discussed at length in a private post for those who have friend access to my livejournal. I will talk about the other one in time, I promise. In the mean time, I can expound on the glories of my parent institution. It is an interesting twist to have a Nextel instead of a pager. Really all it means is that I get pages by audio and it becomes twice as easy to do.

The patients are just like the hospital, fewer of them and apathetic. The problem is the nurses are too and they look to take on the least amount of responsibility. I will get paged because a patient wants a toothbrush at 2am. The problem is they do not take phone orders and I have to come and physically write the order. I will then leave the floor, return to the call room and 10 minutes later I get paged again with another asinine complaint. I have tried to head these complaints off by asking if anyone has any other problems before I leave. Noone does so I go, but I think they are just doing this as a cruel "intern hazing" joke. I will just have to call upon my trusty ghetto hospital survival skills and grind this year out. More on the other sinking ship in time, I promise.

I'm still here

2009-08-31T16:07:00.002-04:00

Just got out of one sinking ship and working on getting off another. More details to follow. Yes I am still alive, just busy as hell. Have a few life issues to re-arrange but I should be better off for it.

Vocabulary

2009-08-07T22:13:00.004-04:00

In my time now as an intern I have realized my life is turning into the book "House of God". Just as that book had its own terminology for patients and other members of the hospital staff.

New Vocabulary

Punt - verb discharge, punt from the hospital

Sips 'n chips - noun diet of ice chips and sips of water

Utter crap - noun every time the ER calls the intern down to drain an abscess

Trauma Alert - noun another old guy who fell down stairs and broke ribs, they are admitted to surgery and just take up space on our list

Purge the list - verb discharge a pile of patients the night before I go on call

Doucheville Cocktail - noun The cocktail of IV rocephin and flagyl (antibiotics) that most patients admitted to us seem to go on.

<name deleted> special - noun The bariatric patients admitted to our service, usually in multiples of 4 or 5.

The flying <name deleted>s - noun a husband and wife team of drunks admitted to us after a car crash. Their last name sounded like an acrobat group.

I am sure more will accumulate as time passes. If only some sort of book could be made out of this....

First month down

2009-08-05T19:57:00.002-04:00

Yes I am still here ~~stalkers~~ readers. I have survived a month in Doucheville, CT. I have finally become immune to my chief's passive-aggressive attempts at provoking me. I blame being in so many inner city hospitals. I learned some bad habits I need to correct. They have been slowly fading too. I started this week on my new team, they are much less uptight. I have also learned more of the fine art of being an intern. I have learned how to keep our patient list under control and have become a lean, mean discharge planning machine. The fewer patients on the list when I am on call == possibly more sleep for me later. I also have learned much better technique from when I was originally shown how to suture. It turns out lefties need to have the needle reversed on the needle holder, so everything I had been doing previously had been backwards, at least for me. It makes one or 2 of my attendings crazy. I am in the 13 percent who are more creative, maybe I am more lucky.

As for the actual city of Doucheville, CT: it is something only horror writer H.P. Lovecraft could have dreamed up. Maybe I am just not used to rural areas. Once I run 1 or 2 miles from the hospital, the sidewalks disappear and the houses become more run-down looking. The people also appear strange to me. I also am much more used to more diversity and more people on the streets. They do seem nice though. One even invited all the interns to pick pears from his pear tree in his yard. Luckily I am only there in "bits" of a few months at a time before going back to NY. One of the other chiefs was right: I sold my soul for 5 years. I can pick it up maybe when this is done. I do have plenty of stories from my first month already, maybe when I am in the right mood I will share a few.

Then and now

2009-07-19T22:28:00.007-04:00

Grad School	Med School	Residency
Partied till 7am with degenerate hipsters	Studied till 7am with degenerating sanity	Drained an abscess at 4am with degenerating skin
Enjoyed great Brooklyn restaurants	Had god-awful Brooklyn hospital cafeteria food	No time to eat
Went to NY Hardcore shows	Experienced hardcore lecturing and other fruitcakery	Get squirted by hardcore pus each abscess I drain
Ran 15 miles a week	Ran 30 miles a week	Struggle to run 30 miles a week and run scut in the hospital
Get reamed out by lazy, ungrateful fatass of a boss	Get reamed out by ungrateful douchey residents	Get reamed out by everyone up to and including janitors
Studied biomedical engineering	Used some of my knowledge to impress people with obscure facts on rotations (fool people into thinking I was smart)	Realize I know nothing

Bell commission my ass

2009-07-18T23:43:00.004-04:00

I am afraid to total the hours worked the last few weeks, I am sure I have gone over 80 each time. That being said I am beginning to get used to the speed at which things need to get done in the hospital. I know our bariatric patients require the least attention and that our patients in step-down require the most. I also have learned how to dictate quickly and concisely. My ghetto hospital survival skills do not need to be used in the hospital I currently work in. I am now acquiring a new set of suburban, white-bread -- the politically correct term is "All-American" -- hospital survival skills. The medical students under me are slowly learning. I even taught another how to tie.

My weeks are a blur of 24 hour calls, being reamed out for reasons sometimes unclear to me and bad food. Nevertheless once the next 5 years are over I know I will be much stronger for it. Surviving is what I am good at. I know my goals and I know exactly what it will take to get them.

Yes I am alive

2009-07-10T17:32:00.005-04:00

I had promised everyone I would write more about my new life. I really would not call this life however. To commute to Douchebagville, CT I need to get up at 3:30 in the morning to arrive for 5am to round. My power tripping second year resident keeps making the time rounds start earlier just to torture me as well as the other intern. Maybe this is part of the hazing process. Getting fed bad food, when the rare chance to eat does arrive, getting told anything I do is somehow inadequate even when I follow instructions and never receiving praise for anything.

Two weeks in and I feel like someone bashed my face in with a manhole cover. I know this rotation was the most difficult one to start with. The hospital has a high turnover rate, but at least the ancillary staff is top of the line. When things get ordered they get done. The patients are generally friendly and not hostile, but there are tons of them.

As an intern I do not expect to scrub into interesting cases, or too many at all. I did get to remove my own lipoma (blob of fat which takes on life of its own) however. I named it Squishy. I also get to fill out mountains of paperwork. It is strange to have medical students whom I can boss around if I so chose to do so. I am so busy however that I barely realize they exist. I feel bad for them when they are up on the floor, they get to watch me fill out paperwork. I have managed to teach at least one of them how to two hand tie. I also already have shown superior knowledge, which of course upsets others on my team. Beta males I say, let them whine. Luckily I only have 2 more weeks and I switch to a less busy team and 4 weeks after that I am out of CT for 6 months.

Intern year 1 week in

2009-07-02T22:07:00.003-04:00

I had promised I would write again and I never forget. I only was delayed. I am no a surgery intern. This means I get to fill out paperwork, get harassed by anyone for any reason and otherwise feel like someone hit me face-first with a manhole cover. It is basically like going to the army. So far I have been holding up well in spite of everything. The commute to my hospital is fairly long, but not terrible if I got out at a normal hour. I also enjoy operating. The moments I have spent in the OR so far remind me of why I am doing this. It was a strange feeling to call for the knife and get it in my hand instead of someone higher up. The first time it happened, I was starstruck. It took the surgeon telling me to stop staring at it and make the incision that jarred me out of my moment. This is the good. The bad is being harassed by attendings, harassed by higher level residents, harassed by social work, even being hassled by housekeeping. Slowly though, things are improving and eventually I will be inducted into the fraternity. Once I am more coherent I will post about the ultra high tech hospital I am rotating at, complete with drug-bot 5000.

My new home

2009-06-19T16:06:00.003-04:00

I am still alive, just really busy. I will post soon about all the changes in my life.

My trip

2009-06-14T11:47:00.004-04:00

Last I left off, I had left Brooklyn and moved to my new ~~prison~~ home for the next 5 years. I also took a trip to Greece and Turkey. Soon I will begin the ambitious process of unpacking. My trip has left me a few shades darker and refreshed. Here is a breakdown of how my trip went.

Athens: I thought that Paris was a dirty city. I was wrong. Athens makes Paris look as though things could be eaten off the floor. There was graffiti everywhere and the streets were filled with garbage. I was in a hotel in the supposedly nice part too. There was really nothing to see in Athens except the Acropolis. My group also went to a taverna the night I spent in Athens for dinner. A taverna for the unintiated has lots of yummy Greek food, wine and Greek dancing. Greek dancing of course entails breaking lots of plates. The waiters looked unsurprised when all the crashes started happening.

I also saw the Acropolis. What impressed me most was the sheer size of it. It must have been spectacular when it was a functioning city. It is also the site that Yanni bored a crowd to death in his home country.

Istanbul: Much cleaner than Athens. I also had already spent a day on the boat attempting to put some color on my ghostly skin. I pitted SPF 50 against the Greek sun. The sun won. I thought that SPF 50 could stop bullets, nevertheless I was undeterred from more tanning on the sun deck. I visited a number of mosques and a bazaar. After bargaining with my former slumlord in Brooklyn, the shopkeepers at the bazaar were amateurs. I managed to come away with a fair load of goods for not too much. The Canadians I ran into along the way were amazed. Then again, to most of them anyone who could beat up Spongebob Squarepants looks tough.

Settling down to some apple tea after a day of bargaining.

Mykonos: This was the first Greek island the cruise stopped at. It is famous for being the island which started a thousand parties. It reminded me that beaches in Europe == bewbs. It also started one of the many dialogues I had with local wildlife.

Me: Hi Mr. Fishie, aren't you so cute.

*snap*

Me: Oww that didn't tickle, that hurt. You bit my calf.

*snap* *snap*

Me: That's a bad Mr. Fishie, don't make me kick you.

These are very cute, but deadly fish

I chased him and his friends for a little while, but they move much better than me in water. I also met one of the local celebrities on the Island. He is a former Italian porn star who is now known as the elephant man of Mykonos. I initially assumed he got the name since he had a good memory, but the reality was that his choice of everyday apparel was a g-string with an elephant's trunk on the front. By that point however my supposedly waterproof digital camera was being erratic so pictures from then forward were hit and miss.

Patmos: Not much to say there. I saw a cave where apparently a Jesus related book was written.

Kusadasi: Here was the ancient city of Ephesus. It was apparently destroyed and rebuilt 3 times. The temple of Diana was built there. At this point all the ruins were starting to look the same so I looked forward to depositing myself on the beach in Rhodes.

Rhodes: This has the largest population of all the Greek Islands. It also has a beach. The beach did not turn out to be the best option for activities that day. It was filled with more eurotrash than any other part of Europe. They were loud, annoying and obnoxious. Also some old Greek lady kept hastling me for change on the beach. Once I left the beach I got some last minute gifts and found an internet cafe to finally check my email.

Crete: I stepped off the boat for an hour.

Santorini: I was supposed to get on a dinghy and sail out to a volcano. Then I was supposed to hike up to the top of the volcano, hike down the other side, get back on the dinghy and swim out to a hot spring. These activities were all canceled due to the prodigious work ethic of the Greek tour guides. Apparently there was a strike. I still managed to have some fun. I got on a donkey to get the top of the cliff that the city sits on. The donkey seemed to have some reservations about me riding him so he stopped in the middle of my trip and stood there. I called him many things including a stupid ass. Yelling at him did not help, neither did kicking him. Finally once he decided he annoyed me enough, he started back up the stairway.

Flight home: Airfrance is an airline I will never use again. The plane was me plus dozens of horrible smelling French people. The stewardesses also barely spoke English. On the plus side, the wine they served was top notch.

Broadcasting from an undisclosed location

2009-06-08T23:36:00.002-04:00

You peons jealous yet? I am currently on some white sandy beaches cruising around the Aegean Sea. I would have posted a picture of one of the many beverages of a refreshing nature I have been having but this terminal has no SD card slot. So I will ask the question again. Are you peons jealous yet?

Cthulu vs the Slumlord -- The Final Battle

2009-06-01T19:05:00.003-04:00

The month of May passed and I could not get anyone to take over my lease. I moved out by necessity since I will be taking a trip soon and that my new residency will take me well away from Brooklyn. I will still have plenty of roach-infested, mouse-infested memories of that hell hole. Luckily lately no new mice have come and I left just in time to kill the first roach of the season.

I left with little ceremony or fanfare. The neighbors of mine who were around congratulated me for standing up to the Slumlord and Drunk-ass Super during my time there. They were easily intimidated by The Slumlord's threats of taking away their section 8. He really had no power at all over them, but they were ignorant and some had questionable immigration status. I took one last look around the building and told myself if I come back to Brooklyn, it will never be this part of town. Park Slope is much nicer and maybe a decade or so from now I may be able to afford to live there. As I left I noticed the bathroom ceiling was beginning to show water damage again. That ceiling can collapse on someone else this time. Much like my leaky ceiling, student loans certainly will collapse anyone's financial status.

Of course the night before I had to have a last fun night on the town. I needed to take one last look around before leaving. I also ran 10 miles from my place over the Manhattan bridge. Long runs in my new place may look more serene, but nothing duplicates starting on one side of the bridge and then ending in Chinatown. Of course The Slumlord needed to have his one last hurrah as well.

Me: Hi, Mr <name deleted> I have vacated my apartment today. I want to offer you $500 in exchange for a release from my lease.

Slumlord: You haven't paid rent for this month and you are still obligated to pay out the rest of the lease.

Me: Mr <name deleted>, I tried to find someone else to take over the lease but it didn't work out. I have not been working the last few months and money is tight. I can give you $500 if you grant me a release from my lease.

Slumlord: Why can't you ask your parents for the money?

Me: My parents have nothing to do with this

Slumlord: <name deleted> is a rich town. Your parents have money right? Ask them for it.

Me: My parents aren't rich. I can give you $500.

Slumlord: I can take $500 and you can give me the rest later.

Me: No, you don't understand. I am only sending that if you can give me a written release from my lease.

Slumlord: You are under a contract and I can get a money judgement against you and ruin your credit.

Me: Sue me. Go ahead. You will address any future inquiries to my lawyer. Have a good day Mr <name deleted>

Ultimately my $500 is safe. My Slumlord is truly insane if he turned down free money. He also has duty to find a new tenant himself, which he clearly did not do. Good luck locating me to be served as well. I will be in an undisclosed location not unlike the ones Dick Cheney used to disappear to. Until then I will be on a beach on an island in Greece.

File photo of the Slumlord

Cthulu vs the Slumlord yet again

2009-05-26T18:54:00.003-04:00

My moveout plan seems to have hit a little snag. The Slumlord will not just let me walk from the last few months of my lease. He demands I find someone to take my lease over. He even magnanimously said he would try and find someone himself. I did have a number of others see my place and a couple even said they wanted to take the lease. My slumlord is determined to make my life miserable even to the end. He soured the deal for the first one who came by when he said he would not replace my old dilapidated sink for her. When I moved in I realized he was a few cards short of a full deck, but now his mind resembles a game of 52 card pickup. He must not have understood that he can charge a higher rent if he replaces a fixture. He also wanted to raise the rent to something unreasonably high. He ruined my prospects with the second one who was interested by also proposing an unrealistically high rate. These people obviously do not bargain the way I do. When I wanted a lease initially, The Slumlord tried to perform the bait and switch. I had responded to an ad about an apartment, but of course that one was already rented and he had another one which was similar but higher priced.

Me: I called about the ad for the studio

Slumlord: I don't have that one anymore. It's already been rented. I do have one though which is for $50 higher.

Me: Sir with all due respect, I am going to hang up now. You are both a liar and a cheat. I saw the apartment and asked you for a lease under the assumption you would be asking for $50 less. I am sure some other scuzzbag landlord in the same area would be more than happy to give me a place for the price I am looking for.

Slumlord: Ok ok, you can have it for your price. I am only doing this to show you I am a very nice guy.

My new plan is just to send him half of what I owe him for this month and tell him it is all I can afford. Hopefully he just says maybe it is best I move out. I have bigger problems now. I have a trip to Greece to look forward to. I am sure I will have plenty to talk about then. See all of you on the other side.

Cthulu has graduated

2009-05-20T19:38:00.002-04:00

Yes my faithful the impossible has happened. I graduated med school. It seems only appropriate that this post sums up the last 4 years on the eve of me clearing out of Brooklyn for suburbs north of the city. It was a 4 year struggle as well as a time of tremendous personal growth. I will sum up my experience year by year.

Year one: Like everyone else I came in naive, nervous and ignorant. I did not understand my school's place in the medical community (bottom of the barrel) and I did not understand the depth of my class's idiocy. For the first semester I memorized the lecture slides blindly and even honored a class. It took me meeting up with a friend who was about to graduate from a better school that I realized how important my boards were and how by memorizing our lecture slides I was doing nothing to prepare for them. Our lecture slides were about as educational as Beavis and Butthead attempting to deliver a dissertation on particle physics. By the end of that year I was thoroughly disillusioned with my class and school. I compensated by listening to more death metal and running more.

Year 2: This was crunch time from the start unlike the remainder of my class who figured that out on the day they took boards. I was a man on a mission. I had to do well on step 1 of the USMLE. This exam is like the SAT but for med school. The score on it determines if the residency you match into later is FP at a shady community Hospital or neurosurgery at Hopkins. I listened to even more death metal, ran more miles and generally tried to do as many hardXXXcore things as possible to distract myself from my pain. I put myself through hell studying for my boards. I also failed quite a few school exams sometimes on purpose just to study more for boards. I was even more miserable and in pain. At this point I was getting a lot of flak from members of my class for studying instead of partying the way they did. I told them they would pay for it in the end.

Year 3: After getting the news of my board score while I was in the psych ER a patient asked me "You win a trip son?". My response was "Yeah, I am going to a nice white sandy beach where the fish swim around your ankles". That was the beginning of the light at the end of the tunnel. It was around this time that I embarked on my current quest for personal growth. Terms like inner strength have now entered my vocabulary. I also learned quickly what professions were not for me. I let go of much of my total rage against my class after discovering new social skills I never knew I had. One of my co-workers at an old job did once say when you have nothing better to do the world becomes your problem. I think he was right. I was also gearing up for more board exams. I had made a lot of new friends and overall a lot of the searing emotional pain I was in first and second year was dissipating. I discovered my love of surgery at this point and decided I was going to become a surgeon.

I moved to Brooklyn from Long Island at this point. The highlight of my Long Island time was playing with my landlady's chickens after being emotionally burned out after a practice board exam. I dealt with different wildlife during my Brooklyn tenure. My first night of moving in came with numerous roaches. Also a water bug the size of a baby's head crawled out of my radiator. He obviously wanted to see who his new roomate would be. He did not last long against my size 8's. I also had many hilarious fights with my slumlord and drunken super over the general condition of my ~~mud hole~~ apartment.

Year 4: My chips were down and my hand was dealt. I was applying for general surgery. I pooled every resource and connection I had to get interviews. I interviewed at some good hospitals and some filthy ones. I knew my board score was right on the bubble so I would get something, but it was a nerve wracking few days until match day happened. When I got the news I matched, I called everyone in my phone book. When I say everyone I literally mean everyone. I am still in my ongoing project for increased personal growth. I still need to develop an appropriate social smile. This will come with more practice. I think the progress I made showed when I told an interviewer I am the best when questioned why I was in his office. I know I would never have been able to do that before then. I have also become much smarter about the way I dress and overall appearance. Overall I have a better sense of self-confidence from where I started.

On graduation day it was a catharsis. It was a 2 day long affair which began with my parent school's graduation for the undergrads as well us. I saw my idiotic classmates again and this time I was armed with the knowledge of where they had matched. It was different this time from when we all first met. I was secure in the knowledge that I succeeded and they did not even with all the arrogance they displayed. I knew that people's dreams of ultra-competitive fields such as ENT, or rad-onc, or interventional radiology were shattered. The arrogance that was displayed along with the irresponsibility of not studying for a test and instead going to Las Vegas characterized my class. Ultimately I was able to succeed and get what I wanted. Now I can move on and embark on the next stage of my journey.

Pretty much the story of my class vs the match. Hint: the match won.

Say goodbye to Palm Pilots

2009-05-07T16:50:00.004-04:00

Now that I am officially done with all my rotations and all my paperwork is in I have an important decision to make. What will I do with my Palm Pilot? Our school gave us these Satan-spawns before second year ended to log patient encounters. 2 years I have dealt with a clunky, counter-intuitive interface, software failures and insufferable grief. I understand there may be some sort of educational requirement to log patient encounters and procedures we do. My question is why does my school have to be different and not give us a card a resident can sign at the beginning of the rotation. Everyone knows the data is completely false anyway. I think the hours I wasted fudging patient encounters can never be given back in any form.

My obvious question is how to properly vent my frustration. Do I run it over with my car? Too quick and unsatisfying. Throw it off a bridge? Sledgehammer it? All still too painless for this Palm Pilot Dungsten E-2 spawn of the Devil. I am strongly considering selling it maybe to inflict the pain it caused me on others. I am lucky that the only hardware failure which occurred during 2 years of ownership was the plug to the syncing cable cracked. It held up after I used medical tape to put it back together. Maybe I can use it to practice slapshots.

Cthulu has finished med school

2009-04-29T18:24:00.002-04:00

As of yesterday I finished my final ER shift which means only 1 thing: I am done. I cannot say as I learned too much during this month, but my ghetto hospital survival skills shined. My last few days were somewhat interesting.

A professional drug-seeker came by our hospital. He picked the wrong day to do that. The ER doctor on shift was a cranky old lady who would deny her own children pain medication, slap them and tell them to take it like a man. He was someone who could dislocate his shoulder at will. He came into the ER with his girlfriend complaining of horrible pain. He had a posterior dislocation which is unusual, most dislocate anteriorly. Plus after taking x-rays of the shoulder, it did not look that bad.

This is what a posterior shoulder dislocation normally looks like. His was not that far out of the glenoid fossa (socket). He gave a story of how he was a mixed martial arts fighter and how he has dislocated the shoulder a number of times already. He also conveniently added they had to sedate him to reduce it the last time it happened. His girlfriend was fairly attractive and of course wore practically nothing. This did not endear her to our cranky ER doctor. Our resident ~~douchebag~~ ~~mental deficient~~ ~~dweeb~~ idiot Rimjob part 2 of course talked directly to her breasts since he is a pervert. Luckily he had no power to write prescriptions. She tried a similar approach to me but I politely ignored her. Then we all sat around the computer and read an email about our professional malingerer. He created a big scene when we refused to give him narcotics. His girlfriend also asked me about how she could complain about the ER doctor. I offered her my phone, told her we all love her. She was not too amused.

I also drained the abscess from hell and more suturing as my final acts in the ER. When I sutured, of course Rimjob 2 tried to "supervise" me like the last time. This time I held the needle, did not move and stared at him. After a few minutes he felt uncomfortable enough and left. That was the last time he tried harassing me. One of the other ~~braindead~~ FP residents borrowed me to "help" drain an abscess. By help I mean she kept getting in my way. I began to inject him with lidocaine and she grabbed the needle from me and injected him in other places less carefully than I was doing it. She also took the scalpel from me, made one small incision, but I had to fix it. Plus I expressed all the pus, broke up all the locculations and packed it. My ghetto hospital survival skills shined through again.

At least now I am finally finished. Four years of hard work finally come to fruition. My only responsibility this month is to look for a new place. I have already booked my trip to Greece.

On human stupidity

2009-04-17T17:28:00.004-04:00

I am now 8 ER shifts away from graduating. I am at a tiny ghetto hospital in one of the worst parts of Queens. I have also been requested to post a failed craigslist transaction as another demonstration of quite how low some IQ's really can get. I will also relate the tale of a hopelessly clueless bully in the ER who I will henceforth name Rimjob part 2 (part 1 was a friend's problem in the Bronx).

Names have been changed to protect the innocent. This is all over an ad on craigslist for a free pillow which a friend was giving away.

Honestly, that's basically the craziest thing I've ever heard, from five years of being on Craigslist.

How could I possibly be scamming you if I'm offering something for free?

Also, Clinton Hill is far more dangerous than Greenpoint. If you bothered to see the map on google you could see the corner for yourself, it has a late night laundromat full of young people and families and a corner store, it is hardly dangerous.

Finally, the safest thing to do when meeting someone from the internet is to meet them in a public place and not at their apartment. If anything I should be afraid of you, why would you insist on coming to a stranger's apartment?

I'm passing on you. I don't want to give this item to you as I'm sure there are far more deserving people who really need it and will pick it up at my convenience, and not theirs.

> Date: Fri, 17 Apr 2009 10:31:21 -0500
> Subject: RE: pillow
> From: deleted@yahoo.com
> To: deleted@hotmail.com
> CC:
>
> I would be coming by subway, so i'll pass. Thanks anyway...
>
> --- Original Message ---
> From:"Grum Poo"
> Sent:Fri 4/17/09 10:06 am
> To:
> Subj:RE: pillow
>
>
> Fair enough but I don't feel comfortable having strangers at my apartment. I live in a safe neighborhood, you can stay in your car if you like.
>
> Andrea
>
> > Date: Fri, 17 Apr 2009 09:00:51 -0500
> > Subject: RE: pillow
> > From: deleted@yahoo.com
> > To: deleted@hotmail.com
> > CC:
> >
> > Sorry Andrea, but I don't feel comfortable meeting on a street corner, especially after 9pm.. Thanks anyway, please go on to the next person. I may be paranoid, but I have seen too many scams on CL. Thanks,
> > Laura

Now onto the tale of Rimjob part 2. Every workplace has a misguided employee. The one who thinks they are extremely intelligent, talented, the leader, the visionary. Then the reality of the situation, which everyone else surrounding them knows is they are none of those things. They are in fact an arrogant, bumbling idiot. Rimjob part 2 is no exception. He is proven to be as stupid as he is ugly and arrogant. He has been a serious pest. He poked his head in every 5 minutes when I was suturing a patient. I had to explain to the patient that he was not my supervisor and that he was being a pest.

I had a needle in the patient's finger injecting lidocaine and he dropped in. Wanted to know if I needed help. I told him no. Then later he dropped in again and asked the same thing. I had a few sutures in the patient's finger and he dropped in again. "Wow that looks so pretty. Where did you learn that?" He asked. "Downstate" was my only reply. I threw him out of the room.

The next day he kept harassing me and another med student. Supposedly he called our dean for our "attitude problems". He made the entire thing up. He kept whining how noone gives him any respect. Maybe if he stopped strutting around like he owned the place and tried studying people might respect him.

Things I learned from Brooklyn

2009-04-06T14:24:00.002-04:00

My time in Brooklyn is almost up. In another month I will begin the process of clearing out for suburb-land north of the city. In the 2 years I have lived in Brooklyn I have learned a lot.

No matter how much crack you smoke, you can always smoke more
For every scuzz-ball landlord you deal with there are at least 10 more who will try and cheat you
No matter how drunk the super is he always could be more.
No matter how drunk the super is he will never be electrocuted when doing electrical work with the breaker still on
No matter how drunk the super is things will miraculously be fixed before the NY housing inspectors arrive
If you don't look you will never find roaches
One leak means many more to follow

I also stopped an attempt at a push-in robbery recently:

Crackhead: I done be from tha gas company son. Wants me to seez yo bill.

Me: I don't think so. Do a better job next time. Your ID looks like you made it at Kinko's.

Crackhead: If youz shows me yo bill I's can gives you a discount.

Me: Listen take the hint and get out. The police will be here in 10 minutes. I am not opening the door.

He of course loitered around for a few more minutes and then eventually left. He did not realize that my building is filled with Russians. He looked extremely out of place and noone else believed him for a second.

My last month was in neurology. Nothing to really report except that I am now finished for good with the hospital I spent my third year surgery rotation in. The place did have plenty of good memories of the wild, crazy, probably ignorant at times things I did there. This month will be the last 4 weeks of school ever. I will rotate in a dingy ER in Far Rockaway and then I graduate.

My Odyssey

2009-03-31T22:04:00.004-04:00

As another chapter in my life is set to close as quickly as it has opened, I have decided to share the strange trip my life has been so far. The obvious question that needs to be asked is what has happened so far?

Without going into too much detail, my trip started as follows. I grew up in an indistinct semi-suburban part of Queens. I spent my days in school at that point getting high grades with little effort and confounding teachers with my inattentiveness. Once I turned 14 my family moved to an indistinct suburb in Long Island. I immediately hated the place. I did not mesh with anyone around me. Our priorities were different. I enjoyed reading trashy science fiction books, collecting comics and making people deaf playing guitar. They liked sports and Dave Matthews. I plotted my escape from suburbia.

I left Long Island for Albany for college, as my grades in high school were fairly mediocre. My natural intelligence only could carry me so far with no added effort. Inadvertently I did follow an unspoken family tradition by going there. There is always a relative of mine living there at all times. My time just happened to be for those 4 years. The major life-changing event which happened there was my brush with shingles. The pain forced me to rethink my life and work ethic.

After putting in the first genuine academic effort of my life in my last 2 years of college, I left for Long Island again. I had to get a masters degree to show the med schools I wanted to go to that the last 2 years of college were not a fluke and I was genuinely changed. I had to unfortunately move back to Long Island to save money, since my full time job was not paying too well. Once I got into med school, I moved to a different, more boring part of Long Island. It fueled me even more to escape. I had moved to guido-land and the people there could bicep curl my weight. At that point I realized my real goal. Move to Manhattan. It was fiendishly expensive in every way possible to live there, but anyone who lived there looked like they were having a lot of fun.

For my next 2 years of med school I moved to Brooklyn. Living there was not easy as many of my more recent posts have shown. It did bring me slightly closer to my goal. A 20 minute ride on the Q train to Union Square was a luxury I enjoyed for a while. This chapter is closing rapidly as residency is starting and I will now be north of the city. I seem to keep circling the island I really want to live on, but have not broken through. It is fuel which undoubtedly will motivate me. I will still be within spitting distance of the city. Residency will no doubt carry many stories and I am sure if I am in the right mood I will tell them.

Follow the arrows in order starting with Queens to trace my trip thus far.

Where did I Match?

2009-03-19T14:52:00.002-04:00

I get to stay in NYC with a bigger apartment and cheap rent. Mission Accomplished.

Cthulu has matched

2009-03-16T14:05:00.003-04:00

I think the picture speaks for itself. It is the culmination of years of hard work dating back to when I first started my crusade to get to medical school at the age of 19. Exams, there were plenty. Long nights, tons. Now I finally have gotten what I wanted, to become a surgeon. The only thing which remains will be settled in a few days: see where I end up. After that there will be apartments to scout and a trip to Greece to plan. So.Goddamn.Hyper.

Cthulu vs the mice update

2009-03-05T23:13:00.001-05:00

Mouse update:

Rachel ran out of my radiator and got caught in a glue trap. I found that hole and plugged it with steel wool and caulk. Ricky just found running through my stove in the kitchen, still at large. Need more names for the little bastards.

Coasting

2009-03-02T21:42:00.004-05:00

Hi everyone. I am sure you are all dying to know what I am up to. I am now in full blown senioritis. I am just doing the minimum now to get by and in 2 months I will be called doctor. It seems suddenly my social life has picked up. I also have been packing the miles back on. I also have been doing a lot of cooking.

As for life currently: my bathroom ceiling caved in again. This was a lot less painful than last time my ceiling collapsed. I like the substitute drunken super. He is not nearly as drunk. He also repaired the leak which caused my ceiling to cave in unlike the last one who just screwed a board of plywood into the studs. The previous super, it seems is in the process of being deported. This time it was not nearly as painful to get the repair process facilitated.

I also have been in coast mode at school. All exams have been finished and I am no longer on "audition rotations". This means only one thing: hardcore slacking. I have never been any more useless than right now. This is especially since I am doing medicine electives. It has also allowed me to explore more of Brooklyn. A bit overdue, but better late than never. It also has allowed me to have a few more wild nights. When I feel like writing about those anyone friended to me on LiveJournal can see them. Sorry ~~prying eyes~~ ~~stalkers~~ people, some things are just not meant to be broadcast to everyone.

One funny moment which did happen was when I was finishing a long run to Park Slope. I was running down 7th ave in the final mile of my route when some hipster with an enormous camera took my picture. In typical fashion, I insulted his girlfriend, I insulted him in front of his girlfriend and of course flipped him off. I used choice lines such as "Your girlfriend wants a real man" and "Go back to Williamsburg you stupid hippie".

I also have been doing some cooking. Since I have been snowed in I have done some baking. Also rewarded myself by making a few nice meals. I will let the pictures speak for themselves. Marvel in them. I will refrain from calling anyone a bulbous headed cretin....this time.

These are muffins. If you want them I require a suitcase of unmarked 20s.

Muffin + Manhattan == delicious

Cthulu vs the mice

2009-02-16T19:49:00.002-05:00

Update on my mouse situation: it appears there are mice. I saw another one running around my place today. Glue traps have been set up. I am contemplating moving to a different building if I stay in Brooklyn.

Eat, Sleep, run/lift, Study, Repeat

Cthulu vs the weather

Cthulu vs the call room roaches, New Year's too

My Christmas Story

Online dating fails

Thanksgiving fun

Lessons on the female species part 2 and other pearls

Lessons on the female species

Birthdaypocalypse

Late 9/11 posting

Hurricanepocalypse aka They oversold this one

I survived earthquakocalypse

I am hardXXXcore

Back from zombieland

Cthulu vs his apartment part 2

Cthulu vs his apartment

Back on the air

A few steps to freedom

End of sentence, end of an era

Pre-move madness

Winding down finally

San Fran Adventures

Purim

Prison sentence update

Cthulu's SF adventure

Prison sentence update

Prison sentence update

100th post madness

Devil in Jersey City

Your crappy tattoo sucks

Favorite songs by era

My life, the trauma

Cthulenberg? Cthulenberger?

Escape from Detroit

Chanuka

Exploring Detroit, CA

5 months down

Civilization for Halloween

Art Party

On Bullying

Officially a Californian

Finally vacation

Batteries recharged

Back in civilization

San Francisco

My new home so far

Life in slow motion

Settling in

I have arrived

Last chopper out of 'Nam

Escape, finally

Changes in my life

Time winding down

Music roundup

Independence day

*tap tap* Is this thing on?

My day so far

*snarl*

Finally free

New music sucks

I float at night

Finally out of CT

My little friend on my hip

Almost forgot to mention my awards

Sentence commuted

A good night for a celebration

Mission Accomplished

Jailbreak!!!!!

What's for dinner

Guitar surgery

Various stories of different degrees of turpitude

The ghoulish goulian knife and other tales of the burn ward

Burn Ward

Random musings

A day in the life, or how I survived Saturday call part 2

Sinking ships

Cure-all for Sunday call for the next month

Week 1 of night float

I'm still here

Vocabulary

tap tap Is this thing on?

snarl