Christmas, New Year, Block Break, It's AWESOME!

Oh you guys, this is the longest break I have had since medical school started, and let me tell you, I am LOVING IT! Also, I miss my homies. I guess this is what it will be like when we all go out for rotations and we won't be together every single day. I'm not going to think about that right now... I'll think about it tomorrow.

So I wanted to take this post and talk about something kinda close to home. Today is the six-month anniversary of the day I had vertical sleeve gastrectomy (VSG) AND a cholecystectomy (gallbladder removal). VSG is a weight loss surgery where the doctor removes a portion of the stomach so that you cannot hold as much food when you eat. It leaves a banana-shaped area of stomach that is less than half of the original size. The idea is that if you can't eat as much, you'll lose weight. The difference between a VSG and gastric bypass is that with the VSG, they don't re-route your intestines. The gastric bypass takes the intestines and bypasses the main portion that does most of the absorption. Gastric bypass also bypasses the pyloric sphincter, which controls the amount of food that passes from the stomach into the intestines. People who have bypass surgery have a small pouch of stomach that limits the amount you can eat, but also have decreased absorption of what they do consume. They often experience a phenomenon called dumping syndrome after consuming simple carbs or sugars that is very unpleasant.

Knowing this, I chose the sleeve because I felt that I would eventually want to have some rice or a cookie sometime in the future and I wouldn't want to feel like I was dying if I chose to do that. Also with the bypass, the portion of stomach that is closed off from the pouch is left in place, but if something went wrong with that part of the stomach, there is no way to introduce a scope to see what's going on. I felt that even though the sleeve is a newer procedure, I could be more comfortable with the long term effects going forward.

So why am I sharing this? Well, as a medical student, you hear about a lot of medical conditions. The thing about that is you hear in just about every single one that the effects are exacerbated by obesity. And I was obese. Like seriously obese. In fact, I am still actually obese. I have lost 69 pounds, and I am a little over halfway to my goal. I was a BIG GIRL. I also have a family history of conditions that are inevitable in obese individuals. I didn't have any of those yet, but I was well on my way.

A lot of people feel like weight loss surgery is the easy way out. It might be. But if your house is on fire, are you going to try to find the most complicated escape route possible? No, you are going to find the easiest way out with the least amount of damage to your person. I have joined every weight loss bandwagon that exists. I have had some success with dieting and exercise. But every time I gained it right back. I have no promises that the same thing won't happen again. I hope that this time is different, and I am successful. What I know right now is all of my health indicators are within normal ranges. My blood pressure is good, my blood sugar is good, and my cholesterol is good. And honestly, this hasn't been easy. But it has been worth it. I feel so much better, and I have so much more energy than I ever had before. I am exercising every day, and I just feel better. I can't believe it has only been six months, and I look so forward to the next six months to see where I go from here. If anyone has any questions about the procedure, or my journey, feel free to comment or send me an email at veebs@me.com. Happy New Year, guys!

Oh and here's a before and after:

Block 6 Weeks 10-11: I Am Quite at My Leisure!

Today marks the end of week 11 of block 6. Technically there are two more weeks in this block, but they are the Christmas holidays. Then we have a week of block break. THREE WEEKS OFF! OH WOW! We only have two more blocks left in second year, and I can't believe it has gone by this quickly. The last two weeks weren't incredibly heavy, as we were taking final exams for a lot of our classes. We had several days that we didn't have lectures, so we were able to study more. And that's exactly what I did, yes sir, I studied. Nothing else at all.

We took our last exam yesterday morning, and by 4pm, all the grades were in and I was relieved to have passed everything with no remediation in my future. It gets kinda nail-bitey at the end sometimes, but this block has actually been pretty good. It's nice being in a good place at the end where you aren't worried about a particular test that could mess things up for you. I'm hoping to continue my streak for block 7. 

I haven't had this much time off since medical school started. I'm not exactly sure what to do with myself. So yesterday, my youngest daughter and I went out to eat together because it's the day between our birthdays. We hung out and went shopping and had a great time. When we got back home, I sat down and started to reach for my computer. But then I realized that I didn't have anything looming. It was so nice to just sit around and goof off with the kids without feeling guilty for not studying. I do have to keep up with my board studying over the break, but I decided to give myself through the weekend with nothing on my schedule so I could enjoy the holiday with my family.

One of the biggest things I look forward to is catching up on sleep during break. This morning, I woke up at 6:24am. I guess it's going to take a little time for my brain to relax and enjoy the break. It was so annoying to roll over and look at my clock, though. Really? 6:24? UGH! And by the time I can finally sleep in, it will be time to start getting up early for class again. Oh well...

So to those of you who are in the same boat -- fellow medical students -- I hope you have an awesome break filled with good times with family and lots of rest. I hope you are able to allow yourself to take some time away from thinking about class and clinicals and boards and everything so that you can be completely ready to take on block 7. To everyone that reads this, Merry Christmas to you and your family. Be safe and happy!

Block 6 Week 9: Looking forward to doing some Nothing.

TWO WEEKS TO BLOCK BREAK!!!

I was thinking about the blog, and life, and stuff, ya know? What really jumped in my head was how block break is coming, and what exactly makes medical students so look forward to that one week between blocks. And... it's Nothing. Like capital N. Nothing. See, I didn't really grasp the concept of Nothing until I started med school. Because doing Nothing just kinda happened whenever I wanted it to. Nothing is the thing that EVERYONE likes to do, but they don't really know it until they can't do Nothing any more. Do you know what Nothing is? Here, I'll 'splain. So Nothing is the concept where a person can just exist. If you want to sit in bed and watch Netflix all day, go for it. There's nothing on the schedule, nothing impending, just Nothing. Nothing doesn't really exist for the average medical student. Even if you don't have an exam tomorrow, there is one coming -- or some kind of assignment due -- all the time. Or boards. Don't get me started on boards.

So the biggest thing that a student like me gets to missing is the ability to turn the brain off for a period of time, and just do what you WANT instead of what's on the agenda. Just a week a few times a year where the only thing expected is Nothing. For me, what qualifies as Nothing might be different than others. Nothing can be catching up on laundry, rearranging my closet, going to my kids' basketball game, or actually sitting on my butt curled up in my awesome new heated blanket and knitting or playing some Candy Crush. The crazy schedule expected of students in medical school can really do damage to the morale, and one of the ways to combat it is Nothing.

It's really funny how people will ask me if I've seen some new TV show, or shopped at a new store, or eaten at a new restaurant. Usually the answer is um, no, I've been studying my head off and living in a tiny bubble that includes my house, my school, and church. I always say oh that sounds cool, I'll have to add it to my list of things to do on block break. Except. I don't WANT a list of things to do on block break because that sounds like something other than Nothing. So it usually ends up that I never watch the show, or do the other things because they are a lot like a list of things. And who wants a list of things when they want to do Nothing?

That's more like it. The word bored just isn't a thing any more, because with the load I'm pulling, bored is a luxury that I rarely am able to indulge in. So for those of you who have wondered why I live for block break, there it is. Nothing. The opportunity to put everything down that's heavy and just do some Nothing. And eat some pizza, perhaps.

Block 6 Weeks 5-8 (OMG SORRY!): Reproductive block has been interesting...

No you didn't miss any announcements from me, that factory is still closed, padlocked, and condemned. I've surely meant to update the blog more often, and actually it hasn't been an extremely busy block as far as course load. It's just having a little extra time allows for the things that get brushed aside during busy-ness, like laundry and seeing my kids and HB. I can't believe we are already 8 weeks in! Three more weeks until block break and then CHRISTMAS!

This block is about all things endocrine and reproductive. I have become immune to sitting in a room full of fellow medical students while hearing words that would make my mother cover her ears and run screaming from the room. I was a lot more flip about the terminology during the OB/GYN lectures, and then the Urology lectures started. And the PICTURES, people! I used to be rather ambivalent about how people used their parts before the myriad slides of diseased ones paraded before my eyes. Now I'm walking up to complete strangers and urging them to TAKE PRECAUTIONS PLEEEEAASSSE!!!! My poor children have been victim to my many rants on the dangers out there. 

So yeah, Christmas is coming. I feel like we JUST had our school Halloween party, and then suddenly I'm doing the ceiling-high stack of Thanksgiving dishes and all the leftovers are gone. I'll also be celebrating a birthday in a few weeks. It's getting to be quite a few candles stacked on the cake nowadays. But 43 seems like a bit of a dud birthday. It's not exactly a milestone birthday, but it is one more year around the sun, so I'm grateful. What do I want for my birthday? Well anyone that has a birthday this close to Christmas will tell you that it kinda gets swallowed up into the Christmas festivities and so it's not as big of a deal. But I've never felt like I got cheated out of my birthday. My parents always made a pretty big fuss over the day (well we celebrate for DAYS instead of just the day). I used to think that grownups shouldn't make such a big deal about birthdays, but as I get older I realize another birthday is a huge gift that a lot of people don't get. So I like to party it up. Before school started, I would gather all my girlfriends and go to a restaurant and have a nice meal. I also make these ridiculous cupcakes that I sorta invented. So I suppose I'll whip up a batch of my special cupcakes and hang out with some buddies. As far as gifts go, I can't really think of anything. I'm such an amazon addict that I tend to just order up something if I need it. So I guess there's nothing I'm really crossing my fingers for this year. Most of the things I'd love to have are concepts like sleep, a few days where I didn't have to worry about studying, a sudden proficiency at standardized patients, and the kind of recall I had in high school that bordered on photographic. 

So even though this block is winding down, the big push as of now is boards boards boards. We take them at the end of second year, and everyone is worried about passing and doing well. I haven't started worrying about it yet. I have a prescribed study plan from our academic counseling center, and I try really hard to stick to it, but I'm not as good as I'd like to be in that department. I even have reminders in my phone to do the study questions every day, and review of pharm and micro on the weekends. But sometimes when they pop up I'm just like, oh I will do that tomorrow. UGH! So this weekend I plan to catch up on a lot of that and make myself stick to the plan going forward. 

Speaking of procrastination, I'm currently blogging instead of studying for my standardized patient, which is TOMORROW. So I'm off to read all about all the embarrassing questions I will have to ask a perfect stranger. I'm also going to have to stand in front of a mirror and say a bunch of embarrassing words so I won't giggle tomorrow. Also gotta work on my facial expressions. Anyone know how to teach yourself not to blush?

Block 6 Week 2-4: Mama says that alligators are ornery because they got all them teeth and no toothbrush.

Once again I have failed at keeping my blog up to date. I apologize, it has been BIZZAY lately. SO today's blog post is going to be Waterboy themed. You'll see why.

 

One of the most difficult parts about being a mom of six in medical school is when someone gets hurt. Zion (17yo) hurt his hand at football practice a few weeks back, and I happened to be out of town at a conference. This is strike #1 of mommyhood. I called and scheduled an appointment with the orthopedic doctor for him the next morning, but I couldn't get back home until later in the afternoon. Come to find out, he had a pretty serious spiral fracture in his hand. Also, since I didn't attend the appointment (strike #2), he managed to beg his doctor to allow him to play in the last game of the season. With a broken hand.

So fast forward to this past Tuesday AFTER the last game of the season (which they lost), and we find out that his hand did not heal right, and he has to have surgery. They scheduled his surgery for Friday morning at 6am. Well, Friday morning at 6am, I was expected to be loading up to head to the Middle of Nowhere High School where a group of us medical students presented a "Mini Med-School" to freshmen. Oh yeah, strike #3. I tried to get out of it, but it wasn't a possibility. So, I left his Dad in charge and drove out to the boonies to give my presentation. We finished pretty early in the morning, so I had a chance to actually get back to the hospital before he woke up from recovery. Well, that is, until I tossed my KEYS in the trunk and shut it without realizing. So not only did my son wake up from surgery without his mom, I had to call his dad away from the hospital to help me get into my car. The poor baby woke up looking for his parents and NEITHER of them were there. What happens when you get to strike #4? I'm pretty sure I've lost my Mom Card. 

So to make up for my glaring failure as a mother, I took the night shift last night. I set an alarm on my phone to wake up every four hours and take his temp and give him meds. The poor baby has been apologizing for needing to be taken care of, and I feel like a complete heel. 

I was really hoping when I went back to school that my kids wouldn't have to take the brunt of my absence and raise themselves. I always wanted for them to have the type of mom that sent them off to school in the morning and greeted them in the afternoon with cookies and that whole Leave it to Beaver kind of scene. The thing is, even if I hadn't gone back to school, I'm just not the June Cleaver type. But I do love my kids, and I don't want to scar them for life with Bad Mom Moments. Nobody means for their kids to turn out delinquents, but sometimes I feel like I'm following the formula for that outcome. Look at poor Vicky Valencourt. I'm sure her Momma went back to school and left her to fend for herself, and see what happened...

But hey, Zion really wants to play football, and he hopes to be able to play in college as well. So maybe like Bobby Boucher, he can use all the mistreatment he has endured at the hands of his mother to encourage him to play really well.

And hopefully he won't run across a little minx like Vicky Valencourt, because, well you know...

He did tell me yesterday (while his anesthesia was still wearing off) that I shouldn't feel bad about not being there for him for surgery. He said I could make it up to him once I'm a doctor. He even sang a cute little song:

Buy Me a Boat

Block 6 Week 1: Something New Every Day

So last week, huh? Apparently a lot of people read last week's post (well, more than usual anyway). I had a lot of feedback from the post, and I appreciate the encouragement that you all gave. I also heard a lot of stories that were way too similar to mine. I pray that those of you that have had similar experiences are able to find a place of peace and protection.

This week has been a hard one, honestly. School hasn't been a problem at all, though. Last Sunday a really close family friend and fellow church member passed away. This week has been full of preparing to say a final goodbye and comforting everyone who is feeling the loss. I wanted to be a lot more available to help out, but on Tuesday I came down with a horrible stomach bug, and I was down for the count for about two days. With that and keeping up with school, I've not been as helpful as I would have liked. Today we had the funeral and burial, and there were so many people who came together and leaned on each other for comfort. 

I don't know if everyone else does this, but when I attend a funeral, I start thinking about loved ones that I've lost. I don't think of it as depressing or sad, though. I just like to reflect on people that I miss. One of the biggest losses I think I've experienced is that of my paternal grandfather. He died in a car accident about three weeks after HB and I got married. He's been gone more than 25 years, but I still feel a huge empty hole where he is supposed to be. I used to go to yard sales with Poppa and Granny on Saturday mornings sometimes, and I spent the night at their house all the time.  I remember watching Wheel of Fortune and Family Feud with them in their living room. They were a very big influence on my life as a kid, and my Poppa especially taught me a lot of cool things. One of his favorite things to say (usually after I goofed up something) was, "You learn something new every day." He often said it sarcastically, but he was absolutely right. Sometimes I think of how many days it has been since he died and how many things I've learned on those days. I wish I could sit and talk to him about all the things I've learned.

There's this silly thing that I've done for almost my whole life that I can't believe I'm going to share with you guys. So there's this cute little picture of Aubie (War Eagle!) that I've always thought looks like my Poppa. He looks like this:

It's like if Poppa were a tiger, this would be his face. Yes, it's silly. I have a huge sticker like this on the back window of my car (2007 Ford Mustang, YES!). But whenever I look in my rearview mirror and see Aubie's face, I think about Poppa and I kinda feel like he's keeping an eye on me. I think when we miss people really bad, there are little things that can bring comfort and a reminder of how much you love them, even in their absence. I don't know if it makes it sting worse or it softens it a bit, maybe a little of both at different times. But whenever I feel like the world is really hard, I just think about Poppa watching and I hope he's proud. 

There's a song that I hear sometimes, and it still busts me up pretty bad. It's called Beam Me Up, and it's about losing someone, and what you would do if you had a minute to see them again. I don't know what I'd say if I could talk to Poppa for just a minute, but I'd sure love the chance. I wouldn't feel the need to tell him I loved him the whole time because we said it to each other all the time, and he knew it. I don't have any regrets with our relationship, just that it ended too quickly. But the lyrics to the song are:

Beam me up

Give me a minute,

I don't know what I'd say in it.

I'd probably just stare

Happy just to be there holding your face.

Beam me up

Let me be lighter,

I'm tired of being a fighter.

I think a minute's enough...

Could you beam me up?

OK OK Now that I'm sobbing like a baby, I promise next week's post should be a little bit lighter. Have a good week!

Ciao!

Block Break 5: Keeping silent is what they count on

I wanted to use my block break blog post to tell you all about my awesome block break. It was going to be all happy and awesome and smiley. HB and I went to St. Augustine for the first part of the week and stayed in an AirBnB, and we had a blast. But I really can't fill this blog with details about my awesome week. Because Trump.

I'm not sure what kind of world you guys live in, but today I'm going to tell you a little bit about mine. Perhaps that will explain the visceral reaction that I had yesterday when I turned on the news. I apologize for using my med school blog to be political. I'm not political, not in the least. But staying silent is what they count on. Who? The ones who perpetrate the ideal that women are to blame for men's rotten behavior towards them.

I remember very vividly the first time a member of the opposite sex violated my personal boundaries. I was seven years old, and a little boy in my class who had never spoken a single word to me reached out and grabbed my crotch. If the first thing that comes to your mind is that I must have been wearing something or doing something to draw that kind of attention, just get out. Close the window and go. Or scroll up and read again. Seven. Years. Old. I was probably wearing jeans and a t-shirt and sneakers. You might say that some adult taught him this, or he was just a curious child acting out, or whatever kind of trash that people say here. It's not a comfortable subject to discuss, and it's the ugly underbelly of throwing thirty kids into a classroom with one adult to keep the peace. You might even think that it wasn't a big deal, and compared to the crimes that women have endured at the hands of sick perverts, it's less than a 1 on a scale to 10.

But what that incident did to me as a child, as an individual, as a female -- it was devastating. I did not enjoy it or welcome it. But I did not tell anyone. Why? Because as a seven year-old child, I already knew that these kinds of revelations made people uncomfortable, and it wasn't something that people wanted to discuss. So I tried to behave differently so that that kind of thing wouldn't happen again. I stayed far away from that particular kid, and I kept my eyes open. But it wasn't enough.

I rode the bus to school when I was in 4th grade. I was probably about 10 or 11 years old. I learned very quickly to just grab a seat as far toward the front of the bus as possible, because if you walked all the way to the back, there were boys that sat on the edge of the seats on the aisle and would put their hands on you as you walked past. The first time that happened to me, I was groped all the way to the fourth row. You better believe I was behind the bus driver for the rest of the year. I also figured out that if someone was clutching their nose while it was gushing blood that they wouldn't grab your butt. I learned quickly if you gave a boy a bloody nose on the bus you'd end up in detention no matter what they did. I tried explaining to the principal that a boy pinched my behind and I punched him in the nose, and he gave me the boys will be boys talk. So I also learned that it was my fault.

The school bus is the absolute worst place for a girl. Once, I got off at my stop which was right in front of my house. I was a latch-key kid, so no one was home. Another boy got off at my stop (it wasn't his stop) and followed me to my house. I wouldn't open the door, so he pushed me up against the wall in the carport and groped me. I slapped him so hard my hand hurt for days, but thankfully he was more worried about me messing up his face than forcing his way into my house. The next day I got off at my friend's stop so he wouldn't try the same thing again. I got into trouble with my parents because they had to come get me from her house. I'm not sure why I didn't tell them what happened. Maybe it's because I learned in 4th grade that it was my fault.

It's really hard to explain to men what it is like to live in their world. A majority of men have never been thrown around against their will by someone twice as strong as they are, and it doesn't compute that cat-calling feels more like a threat than a compliment. But most women live in a world where they need permission to just be safe. Don't wear this, don't be at this place, don't behave in a way that draws any attention to you as a woman. What people don't realize is that it doesn't matter what you are wearing, where you are, or what you are doing, if a man has the intention, he's going to do it.

You might be surprised to hear that women wearing sweatpants with no makeup and with no alcohol in their system still get raped. Little girls sleeping in their beds at night get kidnapped and murdered through no action or fault of their own. The fault does not lie in a woman's appearance or actions, it lies at the feet of the perpetrator of the crimes against them. I'm not saying that a woman should not seek to protect herself from being in a situation where bad things could happen. But when the first question that comes to your mind when a woman is victimized is whether she was wearing something or behaving in a certain way that asks for it, you are what's wrong. You are perpetrating a culture that excuses horrible behavior by someone who knows better by laying that responsibility at the feet of the victim.

Yesterday I read the article outlining the quotes from Mr. Trump about how he can just grab a woman by her crotch and kiss her without asking because he's "a star," and that he had struck out with this married woman when the ink wasn't even dry on his marriage certificate to his new and improved wife. I am disgusted and horrified that two men had a conversation on camera about sexual assault, and it was something to laugh about, and they didn't see anything wrong with it. Today all of Trump's bootlickers are lining up to make excuses for his actions once again. It was so many years ago, he's changed. Oh? Please tell me about how he's changed. Because I saw his tweets about the former Miss Universe. He ranted for FOUR DAYS about her. Hillary doesn't even have to produce any campaign commercials because all she has to do is put a mic up to his tweets. I'm sorry, you just can't stamp this one with "At least he's not Hillary." I'm certainly not a fan of Mrs. Clinton, so don't misread me here. The presidential office of the United States has certainly been ground under the heel of many of those who have held it, but I honestly do not want to live in a country where Trump is allowed to ride roughshod over the Stars and Stripes. Again, I apologize for going all political, but an America under Trump is not safe for me or any other woman.