Names

I like words and letters. I like how shuffling them around can result in endless meanings.

When I was a little girl, one of my favorite activities was playing boggle by myself. I would shake the dice and then find as many words as I could in two minutes. After the buzzer, I would scrutinize the board, writing down all the words that I hadn't found during the time limit.

If I found more before the buzzer than after, I won.

On the bus, I rearrange advertisement script in my mind, coming up with as many new sentences as I can. Or I try to just change character spaces. (shoestore up the stairs = shoes tore up the stairs)

When I study the unit census for staffing purposes, I automatically pick out the names with alternate meanings and make up sentences. I don't even really think about it, it just happens.

When I see the last names: Armstrong, Cox, Foster, Good, Paynes, I am going to chuckle. When the next two admissions are named Burns and Seaman. I will start to laugh uncontrollably.

Then I'll be embarrassed when my coworkers ask me what's so funny.

Sigh.

Missing Disappointment on a Perfect Day

It was the perfect day to be disappointed. Early morning, I walked home underneath soft fluffy snowflakes. The crystal crusted arms of the trees had stolen the stars from the sky. Lavender and magenta streaks of cloud welcomed the sun.

At home, I mixed a new batch of Chai using English breakfast tea and an extra clove. Lovely. I deeply breathed in the steam and melted against the arms of an overstuffed loveseat.

Wiggling my toes in my new fuzzy socks, I pulled my legs underneath me and opened my laptop.

I opened the email from the medical school that interviewed me. My vision went blurry with moisture (I blame the steam of the tea). I reread it twice. My heart thumped.

All that disappointment I had bolstered myself against dissipated.

I got in!!


I didn't realize the stress I had felt the duration of this year until the moment of its disappearance.

I'm going to be a doctor!

Manly Food

One of my patients last night was eating voraciously. In addition to an enormous meal from the hospital kitchen, he devoured 3 TV dinners, 1 PB&J sandwich and two pieces of toast and jelly.

Around 0200, he called out for another snack. After discussing it with his nurse, I brought him a couple of saltine packets.

A tirade spewed forth.

"I'm a MAN. I've traveled the world and have a MAN's appetite. I'm not a little boy and don't want no little boy snacks!"

He threw the crackers at me and said he wanted a MAN's snack.

I asked him what he wanted and he told me:

"a chocolate sundae."

I wonder how he feels about quiche.

No Idea

I have no real idea of how my interview went. My interviewer was very nice and the hour we spent together was relaxed and conversational. We chatted about travel and ancient history. He seemed impressed that I had read Pliny, knew the different historical names of Istanbul and that Alexander the great was from Macedonia.

He asked me why I had gone to a community college before a 'really hard school' and about my mother's illness and pulmonary hemorrhage.

I asked about the clinical rotations during third/fourth year and the new simulation center.

He didn't ask me questions about what I was currently doing or give me any ethical stumpers to deal with.

I got a really good vibe from the school. The current students were very friendly and candid and the other interviewees were amiable.

It would be so nice to be accepted.