Forgive the lack of posting - medical school orientation has been quite busy. So far my classmates are a lot of fun, although a tad younger than me.
One thing I have noticed so far is the tendency for the school to shower us with praise and tell us how wonderful we are. I am not suggesting they do the opposite, and I am very grateful they seem to think so much of us (and to be fair, there are some quite amazing people here); but it does seem like the general public seems to view physicians as pompous and arrogant many times. In my view pumping our egos so much perhaps doesn't help.
Many times I have felt like I am back in middle school, but it has been refreshing to meet other people like myself in so many strange ways (can memorize lists of insane amounts of material but can't get to a meeting on time or find their way out of a room). It is also a bit surreal to don the white coat "for real" and not in Haiti or in a lab. It's a nice, exciting feeling.
All in all it has been excellent, and I am extremely impressed with what Cornell as a medical school does. More to come, I hope.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Friday, August 14, 2009
NYC
Forgive the lack of posting. We have made it to our apt. in NYC.
In New York, things are great. The people here are so much more wonderful than you may have heard. We thought this on every trip to the city to interview, etc. and it's only been confirmed for us again. People are everywhere and helpful and nice. While biking through central park I told Mandy I may never leave this place.
I may not. Back to figuring out how to get internet at the house.
If you've seen the movie In America, there is a scene where he lugs a window AC unit across the city. That was me yesterday; I'm still recovering.
I hope to get back to more meaningful commentaries when we get settled!
In New York, things are great. The people here are so much more wonderful than you may have heard. We thought this on every trip to the city to interview, etc. and it's only been confirmed for us again. People are everywhere and helpful and nice. While biking through central park I told Mandy I may never leave this place.
I may not. Back to figuring out how to get internet at the house.
If you've seen the movie In America, there is a scene where he lugs a window AC unit across the city. That was me yesterday; I'm still recovering.
I hope to get back to more meaningful commentaries when we get settled!
Friday, August 7, 2009
Difficult Times (for some)
It's almost 2AM, and I just made my fourth trip with a car full of donations to the salvation army. We managed to fill the 2,000 square-foot house we are currently in with God only knows. Actually I know - everything that we've accumulated in this lifetime, and then some.
Moving to a tiny 1-bedroom in NYC is becoming quite liberating. We are simply having to donate almost everything and store the rest. Remarkably, we find ourselves knee deep in things we have no idea why we were saving them. As a brief example, these are things I found while cleaning:
My TWO casts from when I broke my foot in 10th grade! (that was 1996!)
Love notes from my High School girlfriend as well as other casual girlfriends (including the girl who gave me mono in college)
Trophies from as far back as 1987 (soccer mostly). 1987!
Hair from when I shaved my head in high school.
Notes from members of our 1998 High School Cross Country Team (goals sheet from each individual).
Boxes of VHS tapes: everything from MC Hammer on OPRAH to the 1992 Dream Team basketball games.
Bins full of exams from high school and college (this proved to be extremely funny - in Spanish I had drawn a cartoon man holding a sign that "says Students Against Spanish (SAS): Because we just don't need it!" A lengthy note from the teacher was in red).
Unopened bottle of coke from Mexico circa 1994.
Newspapers from Duke basketball circa 91-92, Nixon dies, and Braves winning various pennants.
About 15 Literature Anthologies.
A 1992 NBA Almanac.
A Christian Laettner Timberwolves poster.
Bizarre stuffed animals from...??? (one was a brocolli-person)
Articles on everything I appeared to ever wonder about.
A Tim Briles "Bowie" running singlet.
An Adam Goucher ceramic t-pot.
Books and books and books.
The list goes on.
Why we have so much stuff I have no idea. It seems this is some sort of middle-class phenomenon. If you are rich you can always get new stuff; if you are poor you can't afford much stuff. If you're middle class though you can afford stuff, yet never feel quite like you should get rid of anything.
Of course, my problem is that I always think "man, I would love it if my dad had kept such and such for me to see (watch, bat, etc)". Of course, I can't recall ever wishing my father had produced some old moldy casts from his childhood. Perhaps it's just me!
Tomorrow I pick up the moving truck and we load for NYC - posting could be a bit spotty as we do this.
Of course, i can't believe all the paperwork I have saved (writings, etc.). Today I can post as much as I want and it all fits neatly on my laptop. Our kids won't know any different. Can you imagine "Dad, what are all these thing things with markings on them? Is this what wikipedia was referring to when it mentioned "writing"? How strange! Why not just type it and save it? Why did you waste so many trees??"
"Son, things were different then. All of our music didn't fit in our pocket, we read books from pages bound together, and to talk to someone you had to pick up the phone. You couldn't send a facebook message or twitter or text. It was a hard time..."
Somewhere some 85 year old is reading this, thinking how she should remind us all what difficult times really are like.
Somewhere else an 85-year old (or probably 45-year old) isn't reading this because she's in Haiti, and she knows what difficult times are really like; she's living them now.
Moving to a tiny 1-bedroom in NYC is becoming quite liberating. We are simply having to donate almost everything and store the rest. Remarkably, we find ourselves knee deep in things we have no idea why we were saving them. As a brief example, these are things I found while cleaning:
My TWO casts from when I broke my foot in 10th grade! (that was 1996!)
Love notes from my High School girlfriend as well as other casual girlfriends (including the girl who gave me mono in college)
Trophies from as far back as 1987 (soccer mostly). 1987!
Hair from when I shaved my head in high school.
Notes from members of our 1998 High School Cross Country Team (goals sheet from each individual).
Boxes of VHS tapes: everything from MC Hammer on OPRAH to the 1992 Dream Team basketball games.
Bins full of exams from high school and college (this proved to be extremely funny - in Spanish I had drawn a cartoon man holding a sign that "says Students Against Spanish (SAS): Because we just don't need it!" A lengthy note from the teacher was in red).
Unopened bottle of coke from Mexico circa 1994.
Newspapers from Duke basketball circa 91-92, Nixon dies, and Braves winning various pennants.
About 15 Literature Anthologies.
A 1992 NBA Almanac.
A Christian Laettner Timberwolves poster.
Bizarre stuffed animals from...??? (one was a brocolli-person)
Articles on everything I appeared to ever wonder about.
A Tim Briles "Bowie" running singlet.
An Adam Goucher ceramic t-pot.
Books and books and books.
The list goes on.
Why we have so much stuff I have no idea. It seems this is some sort of middle-class phenomenon. If you are rich you can always get new stuff; if you are poor you can't afford much stuff. If you're middle class though you can afford stuff, yet never feel quite like you should get rid of anything.
Of course, my problem is that I always think "man, I would love it if my dad had kept such and such for me to see (watch, bat, etc)". Of course, I can't recall ever wishing my father had produced some old moldy casts from his childhood. Perhaps it's just me!
Tomorrow I pick up the moving truck and we load for NYC - posting could be a bit spotty as we do this.
Of course, i can't believe all the paperwork I have saved (writings, etc.). Today I can post as much as I want and it all fits neatly on my laptop. Our kids won't know any different. Can you imagine "Dad, what are all these thing things with markings on them? Is this what wikipedia was referring to when it mentioned "writing"? How strange! Why not just type it and save it? Why did you waste so many trees??"
"Son, things were different then. All of our music didn't fit in our pocket, we read books from pages bound together, and to talk to someone you had to pick up the phone. You couldn't send a facebook message or twitter or text. It was a hard time..."
Somewhere some 85 year old is reading this, thinking how she should remind us all what difficult times really are like.
Somewhere else an 85-year old (or probably 45-year old) isn't reading this because she's in Haiti, and she knows what difficult times are really like; she's living them now.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)