Doctoring

The past couple of months have been a complete blur. I graduated medical school, got married, moved to a new city - albeit, without my husband of a month - and started doctoring, that is, intern year of residency. In this whirlwind of events, I haven't had much time to reflect on the gravity of things; I suppose life's just been a race lately with me barely holding on at the back and yet having an amazing ride even if some moments, it feels like I'll be dead last.

During orientation to residency, they lectured us on many things that I found completely useless - like how to order a particular test on Epic (our electronic medical record software) a week before I would ever put an order in - and I think I forgot 99.9% of what was said during those 7 days however, the one thing that really stuck was someone telling us to find some sort of outlet for our feelings. For the past 4 years or so, a lot of that outlet for me has been my now husband, who, as a med student when we first met, and now a doctor, has always been able to relate to the joys and difficulties of going through this path. That's become much more difficult now that we live in different cities, even though we talk to each other almost every night, but sometimes it's exactly the opposite of what you need after a long day at the hospital. Someone to sit with, to be quiet next to, to watch a silly show with. Talking about what happens during intern year is difficult; and mine has just barely started. I decided though, that in the absence of that someone sitting with me on the couch every night, or in addition to, I will try to use writing as an outlet once again like I used to when I regularly wrote here.

It's only been 3 weeks since my first day as a "real" doctor.  It wasn't anything like this, although the one thing that's certainly true, is that I felt like I knew absolutely nothing at all. I still know very little in the big scheme of things, but oh boy, has it already been a steep learning curve! I've been trying to figure out what's been the hardest part, but it's hard to even pinpoint one thing. There are days when I feel so overwhelmed by the million little tasks, which feel impossible to all accomplish in the span of even 24 hours, let alone the 12-13 I am supposed to be at the hospital for. There is so much administrative work involved that I must be spending at least 75% of the day sitting in front of the computer. Either writing notes for each patient on the events of the day, entering orders, for either tests of medications, making sure that when patients are discharged, they can get all the medications they need, dealing with insurance companies, pharmacies, social issues, it's all a maze! But perhaps what's most unsettling about all this administration is that it really cuts down on the actual time I get to spend with the patients themselves. And that part is truly rewarding in most cases! I have been working on the inpatient oncology service - you might be able to guess that most people who end up there are very sick and many of them dying. Just in the past 3 weeks, I've held the hand of a young woman in excruciating pain while her pain medication arrived, I've been to a wedding on our floor of a 24-year old girl with terminal cancer (perhaps the most gut wrenching thing I've even seen), I've seen a man undergo a very cool clinical trial treatment for the first time at our institution, I've had to say to a family "I'm sorry but your cancer has grown", I've had a patient get very sick while under my care and eventually die in the intensive care unit, I've missed an important test result that changed the management of a patient (thank god for the senior residents!) and lost sleep over it. And these are only a few examples of things that have been happening over only the past 3 weeks.

All I know is, this is a really hard job. But it's a really awesome job, and I wouldn't rather be doing anything else in the world! More details to hopefully come soon...

Clerkship year random thoughts

Medical school is sometimes a little bit like having bipolar disease. Basically for 12 weeks I was constantly going-going-going, always in the hospital, in the doctor's office, studying in the library, studying at home, studying during lunch break, sleeping wherever I could, eating wherever and whenever I could, getting home just in time to eat, shower and go to bed. It was intense, almost manic; with no time to ever really think about it.

Then suddenly I am on an easier rotation, and I get home at 3 most days, and have hours and hours before I have to go to bed - sometimes I don't even know what to do with myself - I wonder what people who have 9-5 jobs actually do in all that free time they have???

Between Surgery and Radiology (which I am currently on - can be described as sitting in a dark or dimly lit room for hours and staring at internal organs I most of the time can't identify for sure - god only knows why anyone would want to become a Radiologist???) there was a week of school called "Interclerkship Intensive". It was anything but intensive. For most people, especially coming off Surgery, it seemed like vacation - during lectures, I caught up on news and facebook and celebrity gossip (j/k). We also all got iPad minis, which are now sort of replacing paper forms in a way - from now on, all our evaluations, forms and such are going to be on those; we can also access the electronic medical records of our patients on it when we are in the hospital (only the fancy private hospital, Tisch, not Bellevue, of course). The most striking thing about getting them was that about 75% of my class already had iPad minis. An entirely 1st world problem. Even I, who didn't have one, already had a regular iPad, an iPhone, a Kindle, all on top of my MacBook of course. Seems a little insane, doesn't it???!!! Those are the times when I realize just how lucky I am, we all are (everything is relative, I mean one of my classmates' father is on the Forbes 150 wealthiest people in America list) but regardless of all, we are all very lucky.

Then there was a session dedicated to the Meyer Briggs Personality Test , which we all took weeks before and were now given our results in a nicely bound book. It's basically a test that puts people into different personality subgroups based on 4 characteristics: extraverted/introverted, sensing/intuitive, thinking/feeling, and judging/perceiving. I don't necessarily think that all people can be boxed into these categories, and whether your "type" really means very much is another question; however, it was a very interesting session. Most people thought that their types were pretty spot on, and when you think about it, it does explain certain things about people and also about how different people work together or don't work well together.

I turned out to be an ISFJ - introverted, sensing, feeling and judging (btw, judging means systematic, planful, scheduled, methodical, not that they judge people). All of these I thought were generally correct. They also showed us what medical specialties might best fit our personalities, which I think is total bullshit, so I didn't pay much attention to that.

What I also find interesting is that my boyfriend is basically the opposite type in all categories but being introverted. He is often much more logical, reasonable, critical, casual, spontaneous and open-ended than me (btw, I got all those adjectives I just used from the list they gave us with our reports). Sometimes people say that opposites attract, and that might be entirely true. It's also sometimes more difficult to find common ground with people whose personalities are so different from ours. The striking difference between the 2 of us really lies in my methodical planning and his casual spontaneity. Here is how we deal with the world: I am on the left, planning things ahead of time, stressing about deadlines weeks in advance and only feeling better once I got myself on a regular schedule and do a even really think about the deadline until much later and probably spends overall less time stressing about it, but probably much more at the very end.

The only thing I think this means is that it's good to be aware of these things. People from opposite personality types can sometimes seem insane to others. As long as we can accept each other's differences and work with what we are each best at, we will all get along just fine and find that delicate balance between planning and spontaneity. 

The disappearing hat

It's been so freaking cold for the last couple of months, that even for my 2 minute commute to Bellevue, I have been putting on a hat every morning. Then we go round on the floors. Sometimes, believe it or not, in our coats (that is mostly because we are always in a hurry and sometimes we have to go to a different building after rounds, and so just in case, since it's -25C outside, we all carry our coats). So last week, one evening as I was leaving the hospital, my hat was nowhere to be found. I tried to run through my day in my head to figure out where I might have misplaced it. Maybe at the cafe downstairs in the lobby where I got my coffee in the morning? Or the surgery call-room? I look everywhere but it was nowhere to be found. I must have dropped it somewhere in the hallway. It's a 20+ floor hospital with countless units, and my team has patients on 5 different floors some days. My hat could be anywhere!

So I resigned myself to the fact that it was permanently lost. I dug an old hat out from my closet and wore that for a week. Paul would say it looked silly. "Where is your nice hat?" he would ask. "Somewhere in Bellevue maybe" would be my reply.

And then today, during afternoon rounds, I am standing around the surgical ICU, waiting for a patient to be transported, and I look down and there is my hat just sitting quietly on an otherwise empty and unoccupied desk. It was MY HAT!!! Undoubtedly! So I grabbed it without much hesitation, inspected it for familiar marks, like the one string that was a little loose on one side, and quickly stuffed it into my white coat pocket, where it hung out for the next few hours until I was ready to leave for the night. Of course today the weather warmed up and I don't need a hat anymore :)

At either end of life

I am now into the second week of clinical rotations, namely my Obstetrics and Gynecology rotation. I spent last week on the labor and delivery floor, and it was pretty crazy! I saw babies being born, the very beginning of life, I saw the happiest families, the craziest Dads, the coolest Moms, the tragedy of losing a child. Every day in the hospital, you see little miracles and big tragedies. That is what life is. That is where the beginning of all of it is.

On Sunday morning, my dear grandmother Babi left this world forever. She hasn't been herself for many years, and what had finally happened was the best for her, to end her suffering in this world. She had a long life, and a difficult one. She lived in a time and a place where women were not allowed many opportunities in life, and I think that had made her bitter in her old age. But she was also a beautiful and loving person, who raised her three children to be the best people they can be. I have many many fond memories with her. There is one in particular I like to remember. Who knows if it ever even happened...

I was a child of around 10 maybe, and it was Christmas eve and we were celebrating at our house. She always came to our house for Christmas. In Hungary we say that babu Jesus comes that night to decorate Christmas trees and brings the presents (I don't know if there are other countries where Jesus takes over for Santa, but at least in Hungary that's the case, silly, I know, but that's just how it is). In order for me to not see that my parents were actually the ones decorating the tree and putting gifts underneath, Babi took me for a walk around the neighborhood while the preparations were underway. I have this very vivid memory of walking with her hand in hand in the cold and snow, her telling me about baby Jesus. Memories is all we have left.

I do not believe in any sort of afterlife. But sometimes I think about her being in some better place than this world was for her over the past few years. I have an old photograph from 1942 from her and my Dedi's wedding. She is wearing a gorgeous white dress and is stunning in it and he is so handsome in his military uniform. I like to imagine them together again, wearing those beautiful clothes, arm in arm, happy again.

Humans of NY today

I can officially claim to be a "real" New Yorker now that I know someone who's been captured on Humans of New York!!

Check out the HoNY Facebook page - blue jacket and glasses, with baby head poking out from under the coat! One of Paul's classmates, a future doctor :)

Next step: try to be on HoNY myself!

NYC Marathon 2013, with some delay

It's already Sunday of the 4-day weekend (really 5 days for me, as I skipped all classes on Wednesday). Conclusion of the past 4 days: I am really really bad at doing nothing. Judging by how many episodes of Homeland season 3 I have watched, I had about 6 hours of free time over these 4 days.

4 weeks to the day after the NYC marathon, I am trying to keep up the running. I read an article in the NY Times before Thanksgiving about how daily exercise can help prevent becoming a couch-potato over the holidays. Duh! I don't think one needs to do a scientific study on this. In any case, according to a study, even after a week of overeating and spending too much time lounging, fat cells begin to change, accumulate bad molecules, insulin levels rise; overall, bad things happen quickly in our bodies. I've been thinking about this when I forced myself twice over the past 4 days to run on the treadmill, an activity I almost never enjoy. Even while watching my favorite bad TV show...
But today, finally, the temperature went back over 40F (+4-5C) and the sun is out, so I went out by the river for an easy run, 5 miles or so. Felt good. No pressure these days in terms of the distance, the pace, the regularity of these runs. It's nice to just go, and decide on the way how much and how fast.

I never got a chance to write about this year's marathon. It was great! Really really great! And I am not saying, "well, it was good for the first couple of hours and then really really painful for the last couple of hours, but overall, enjoyable". It was really really fun almost the whole way! This year, I started the race with Daniel and David, and ran almost the whole thing with Daniel. It's nice to have a buddy around, even if too tired to chat, just to see a familiar face. Just like seeing the familiar faces in the crowd. As always I saw a lot of friends on the course, which is always the highlight. Check out what one of my biggest fans was wearing on his head so I could see him from blocks away! :)

In terms of the actual running, I started at an ~9 min/mile pace and finished at about the same pace. Which is a novelty in my marathon career, so to speak. Sure, there was some pain and during the last few miles, I was thinking more and more about the finish line and about finally stopping, but overall, no "wall", no falling apart, no walking, just looking straight ahead towards the finish. 3:58:28. New PR. I was very happy.

On our way to the start with Daniel and David:

Start village pictures :

List of all the people I was going to look for on the course (note: you might notice Paul isn't on the list, as he could not make up his mind about where to stand - but fortunately, he had a pretty distinctive look that day)

At 10K, all 3 of us still in the shot, then near 18M, I am trying to grab Janice's goodie bag (cut-up bananas and oranges):
This whole biting the medal thing is weird, but I felt compelled to do it:

My orange finisher cape matched Paul's hat well (this is at the Plaza Hotel after-party with some friends from out-of town
who also ran):

 

Home away from home

I just came across a new blog I liked. It's by someone not very dissimilar to myself. It's interesting how we can connect to someone we have never met and don't know anything more about than the thoughts they put "on the (electronic) paper". In any case, reading this blog made me nostalgic about my own blog. And made me feel a little guilty about how bad I have been about keeping up with it. So here we are.

Thanksgiving is coming up in two days. A lot of people came to class today with their suitcases, heading to the airport straight from school to head home. I suspect I will see even more people tomorrow with their suitcases, assuming anyone will go to class even. After class I met up with a friend who is a med student at Einstein and just had a baby, so she is taking the year off. I met the 5-months old cutie-pie, caught up with her Mom, then walked around the city in the rain.

I don't get homesick often; almost never to be very honest. New York feels like home, it has for many years and I don't long to be anywhere else. Of course, there are a lot of people I miss very much who live all over the world, literally. But that's the reality of life these days, especially for us emigrants. Around the holidays though, I do get homesick. This year, it seems to have just set in today. Like I said, it's not because I don't feel at home here and it's certainly not because people don't make feel at home. It's just a fact.

I usually travel to Kansas for Thanksgiving to see the dear family I once lived with when I was in high school, now more than 13!! years ago. Going there always feels closest to going Home, with a capital "H". But this year I have already used up my travel budget to go to El Salvador, Montreal, and then going home to Budapest for Christmas in a month! Plus there is a big vacation in the planning for next summer (more about that later, I hope). So that, with the ridiculously pricey plane tickets this year, I decided to stay put in NYC this week. Ultimately, I am looking forward to a quiet weekend without travel stress, much studying and all that. That was, until I realized that I had something planned already for every single day of the week. Not that I am complaining! Oh no no no! It's great! I love it! It's home!

Tomorrow night, I am going to Becky's parents' house in Brooklyn to make latkes for the first night of Hanukkah, then off to New Jersey to Kelsey's parents' house for turkey day, then plans with friends who are visiting from abroad or from up north, catching up with friends I never have time to see. Going through my to-do-list for the weekend, I realized, just now, that being far away from Home home just means that I have multiple homes: one here on 26th Street in Manhattan, another one in Brooklyn, in New Jersey, in Kansas, even in Ohio and in Budapest. It's not that bad, after all :)

Life cycles

It is sometimes said that our lives are made up of 7-year cycles; we somehow reinvent ourselves, or just simply change a little bit in a cycle. I don't think it matters how many years our "cycles" are, but it is definitely true: we do go through phases in life in which we think differently, do things differently, take more or less risks, meet more or less people, become more or less open to the world, or just simply change out paths.

Recently, a few close friends of mine have been going through such life changes. My closest friend while growing up in Hungary just left her residency training in Medicine to travel around India for 3 months, looking for something that she feels is missing from her life. While I firmly believe that whatever is missing from one's life can be found more locally than traveling halfway around the world, I do commend her on taking the risk and embarking on this adventure of a lifetime. I sincerely hope that she finds whatever it is she is looking for, or at least that she returns to Europe with a new world view, or just a sense of being more at peace. Another friend of mine here in New York left her decade-long career in science and is trying to find her real passions. We had dinner earlier this week and she mentioned that she knew a lot of people in their 30's doing the same thing. Another close friend from grad school just started law school a few weeks ago to become a patent lawyer.

I was thinking about all these things while out on a run in Central Park a couple of days ago. I am training for the 2013 NYC Marathon, which is just a little over a month away. I am really excited! The first time I was in these same shoes was 4 years ago now, training for the 2009 NYCM. That season ended up being a huge turning point in my life. Whether or not it had something to do with the running, I can't say, but I'd like to believe it. In August that year, I ran a really difficult half marathon in 80+ degree weather and managed to fracture a metatarsal bone in my foot. With 6-8 weeks of recovery, the marathon was out of the question. I was very disappointed. Also, I suddenly had a lot of time freed up that fall. So maybe it was all that free time that suddenly got me to think about bigger things, who knows. But it was that fall that I made the decision to embark on this new journey that I am still at the beginning of right now.

It's amazing how things turn out in life. I wish I could tell myself 4 years ago that everything was going to be ok. But how wonderful life is, that we can look back and realize that 4 years ago, if someone had told me that 4 years later I would be starting my second year in medical school, I would be in love with a great man and would be in the greatest shape of my life training for the NYC Marathon, I probably wouldn't have believed them at all. While it's easy to get bogged down by the little daily struggles, it's so important to think about life as a whole sometimes. Starting my second in year in medical school was a little rough. This past summer was a blast! Having a 9-5 job was so nice! I had my evenings and weekends free, took a long weekend trip to Montreal with the boyfriend, spent another week in El Salvador with a college friend, and just did a lot of relaxing in general. Being thrown head first into 4 weeks of anatomy after this was a shock to the system. Things have calmed down since - being done with anatomy FOREVER helps a lot! - and now I am just really excited to be just 3 months away from starting clinical clerkships!

Maybe my life turns in 4-year cycles, who knows. But in any case, it's good to think about these things at least every 4 years.

The perfect amount of pain

Been feeling sort of anxious over the past couple of days. School, work, boyfriend, whatever else there is, sometimes it all seems a little too much to handle at once. And then it's been raining for days, and every day, more and more lecture pile on top of the ones I am already behind on. And the weekend offers no relief in this matter with a wedding plus friends and relatives in town!

When I got home from class in the early afternoon, the sun was beginning to poke out from under the clouds. Finally! I put on my running shoes and headed out to the river. I desperately wanted to let go of all the shit in my head, to relax, to find that sweet spot that all runners know about. That spot where your legs propel you forward without effort and where all inner dialogue disappears for a few moments at a time. 

As I was running south, the wind was gently pushing me forward from the back, but I was getting distracted by every little thing. Shoes coming untied, layers coming off, sweating too much, nose running, nothing quite right. When I got to the 2.5 mile spot I usually turn around at for shorter runs, I stopped to stretch, to look at the water, take in the view of Brooklyn, the bridges, a little bit of NY Harbor. It's no Central Park, but can't complain!

I contemplated going on south, trying to make it a longer run: maybe I'll be able to relax a little more after a couple more miles. Then I remembered all those lectures, the 100's of pages of notes I have yet to review, and quickly decided to turn around. This time, the wind was in my face, it was hard to speed up, there was ni hope of me trying to do any intervals or sprints. I finally let it go: it's just not meant to happen today, I thought. Not going to find that sweet spot. It's ok, it's still a workout, I am outside, it's sunny, I will feel better later on when it's raining again and I am stuck inside. I kept pushing against the wind, with less effort and more acceptance this time. After some time - a few minutes, maybe more - I realized that I wasn't thinking of anything anymore. I also noticed that I was in pain. My shoulders were aching from a yoga class I tok a few days ago, my legs were getting tired, I could feel a small blister developing on my right pinky toe. I notes all these sensations. They weren't bothering me, they were just present. Beyond those sensations though, I felt empty. No racing thoughts, no worrying. Just the perfect amount of pain occupying all that space now. The thought of stopping or slowing down exited my mind as soon as it entered - I needed to hold on to the pain as long as I could. 

Sitting at my desk with the piles of notes sitting right next to me now, I still feel that sense of calm, of letting go. I wish it was easier to hold on to it. 

Lacing my shoes up

Last week, at least for a few days, running took on a whole new meaning. For the first time in a very long time, I ran 4 times in one week, felt excited about it and for the most part, felt really good doing it (the weather has a lot to do with it of course, besides the various emotions that needed to be released after the terrifying events of last week). I thought a lot (perhaps too much) about the whole thing; I tried to focus on the positives. Like being very grateful for everything. Being healthy and having two legs to run on were the main focus. And other things we take for granted.

Then as the events of Friday were enfolding in Boston, there was more to be grateful for. Also, as soon as I heard about what was happening, I wanted to go for a run. And I did. And it felt so good.

Now that it all seems to be over, people naturally want answers. But I am not sure what people are expecting. Could there ever really be a satisfying answer to all the why’s?? Or even one that could provide some sense to closure, possibly peace. Not likely. And yet, people try to come up with reasons and when that is the case, it’s very easy to fall into oversimplifying potential motives, labeling people are good versus evil and so on. Last night I went to see a new movie by Mira Nair, The reluctant fundamentalist, at the Tribeca Film Festival. The issues it brought up in the film could not have been more relevant. Good versus evil; the effects of discrimination on people; being caught between cultures and between a person’s commitment to family, country versus his or her commitment to him or herself.

Beyond what happened to the victims of the bombings, the stories of the two young men who are accused of this horrendous act of violence also makes me incredibly sad. It’s easy to say that there is a good and an evil side to this story, like so many other stories. It’s more difficult to admit that there is so much more that plays into the actions of individuals who for one reason or another commit acts such as this one. Just two weeks ago, the lives of the two men involved still had the potential to take a completely different turn. Life for them could have gone another way. What gets me about the whole story is realizing that they are (were) human beings like any of us and that the 19 year old kid who could possibly face the death penalty could have been any other 19 year old college freshman I run into daily on campus. But for them, something has gone so wrong.

The conclusion I have come to is that given a set of circumstances, almost all of us could be in the shoes of that 19-year-old. I was lucky enough to be born in a free country, to never have experienced war or terror first hand, to have had the most open family and upbringing. We are born as blank slates and all of our experiences mold us into the people we are when we die. We have a certain predisposition to respond to those experiences one way or another; but in the end, we don’t fully understand what influences are most crucial when it comes to shaping a person’s mind and behavior.

In the end, an act of evil was committed by people who are likely way too complex for us to be able to simply label them with a single adjective. For me, this all comes down to one thing at the end. We are constantly evolving beings, nearly all of us and we constantly influence each other. Perhaps if the people who have committed acts of evil have been given a different set of experiences throughout their lives, they would have turned out somewhat differently. I might be completely wrong on this, but in the end, being as caring and compassionate as possible with those around us can only have a positive effect, so why not try a little harder.

With that said, and slightly unrelated to all this, I am ready to get back into running. Spring is finally here, the 2013 NYC Marathon registration has opened, and I have a guaranteed spot. This is going to be a big year to run a major marathon, to show the world that runners are not quitters. So I am lacing my shoes up once again, and hopefully with that, I will find the words to write again too. 

Terror

It's sad that it took today's events to get me to sit down and write again.

I talked to a friend today with whom I ran the 2010 NYC Marathon and she said that as a runner and as someone who had participated in a marathon before, she felt like she was being attacked. I feel the same way today. I may not have been in Boston, I may not have ever run the marathon there, but as a marathon runner, as an athlete, as a person, I feel like I have been attacked.

For me and I am sure for many others, running is a safe place. It's where I go when I am sad, stressed, happy, tired or just need to gather some thoughts. Marathons are celebrations of all of that. Of the time and energy people devote to their passion, of the strength and perseverance of a person who can push him or herself to the limits. Crossing the finish line three times now has been the most joyous and emotional place I have been in my entire life.

Today, the world is a little darker, a little sadder. For many people, that joy was never felt. It was tears and terror instead. Senseless terror, which is always is. But this one hit too close to home. We have to try to go on because we cannot let terrorists to change the way we live; that would mean giving in. Running is a safe place for me. It will still be a safe place. Nobody can take that away from me.

Learning

I was talking to a friend from grad school over the weekend who is now a postdoc. She said she couldn't imagine going back to school and having to study again. I tried to argue that what she was doing in a new lab - learning new techniques and such - wasn't so different. I think we all learn tons and tons of new things every day of our lives, even if we don't realize it. But I do have to admit, she was right in that med school is different. What she was talking about was not the learning, but the studying. The need to remember, memorize, regurgitate. The thing is, I love learning things - but who likes taking exams? And yet, to take exams means you have to memorize. And preferably remember, at least for a few hours, while you are taking the test. Or in the case of doctors, preferably for good. Right?

I just took an exam yesterday, in pulmonology. Less than two weeks ago, I took an exam in cardiology. In a another two weeks, we will have another exam in lung pathology. Then anatomy. Then nephrology. Then god knows what... and this will never end. Literally, will. never. end.

Some days, it feels like I am being run over by a truck. Or, it's more like there is a person - the professor who happens to be lecturing - throwing heavy objects at me at a very fast pace; I am expected to catch all of them, stuff them in my head as quickly as I can, and then remove from from my head just as quickly to make room for things a different person will throw at me next week. It's like myriads of information is flying in through one ear while just as much is flying out through the other. Continuously.

A few weeks ago, I was feeling really overwhelmed by cardiology. It was our first real "medical" unit. We were actually learning about real diseases, what they looked like under the microscope, how to diagnose them and how to treat them. For the final, we had to learn to read EKG's, heart sounds and murmurs and also hundreds (or so it seemed) of heart disease medications. I thought it would be impossible. I spent lots of hours in the library making index cards, giant tables, taking hundreds of pages of notes and eventually, it all somehow went in my head. And it was kind of fun (except for the endless hours in the library while others were enjoying life out there somewhere). It was so interesting. Then I took the exam. It went great. And then I was done. I was tired. I just wanted to see some friends. See a movie. Have a drink.

But medical school is like a train going at 120 miles an hour, never slowing down. So the next morning - actually, the same afternoon - we started the next unit. I figured that after what I had just accomplished, it would be a piece of cake. So I ignored school for a while. I went to class, but then I did other things: I went to see a movie, I met friends for dinner, I got drunk, I went to New Haven to visit a friend, I refereed some fencing. And then there was already another exam looming in the near future. Again I felt like there was just too much to learn. And I did not even find pulmonology interesting: it's basically Physics. Pressures, volumes, tubes, resistances, lots of equations and calculations. But there was I again over the weekend, locking myself in the library (well, for some of the weekend) and on Monday morning, I took another exam and it went well once again.

And today, the train kept moving. Every time, I promise myself that I will do a better job keeping up with the pace and the material, but sometimes, one just needs a bit of a break. I have no idea what I would do if this went on for any longer than 4 years. It seems impossible enough to get through that many! And now I don't even remember what my point was...

The greatest country in the world?

Yesterday, while trying to study, I had the live feed from the presidential inaguration on in the background. I really liked Obama's speech; I thought it was courageous; I loved how talked about equality and education and gay rights, about the opportunities for people who have dreams. It made me think about the last time he was inagurated 4 years ago. I was still a grad student at the time, and we didn't have a day off then. I was working in the lab at HSS and we got an email that morning from the hospital administration, letting us know that they would be showing the event live in one of the large conference rooms in the hospital. By the time I got there, there was standing room only; there were so many people there; black and white, doctors, nurses and janitors. People cried (including myself), people cheered, people applauded. It remember feeling proud living in a country where this was happening. Since that day, I have been very fortunate in so many ways. Perhaps most importantly, I now have a green card. (I do have to mention that one of the issues Obama pointed to in his speech yesterday had to do with skilled immigrants, which is only a little ironic given that I won my green card in a lottery after having spent 10 years in the US and in a PhD program.) In a few years, I will be proud to become a citizen, even though I admit that this country could and should be so much more successful, such a better place to live, it has such great potential, which it has not reached yet. Like Obama said "While these truths may be self-evident, they have never been self-executed." But more than anything, what's so amazing is that I've been given all of these amazing opportunities, which allowed me to live out my dreams to their fullest potentials. More than anytime before now, 4 years after I cried in that conference room at HSS, I am exactly where I want to be, I am doing exactly what I want to do, now, if only someone could reduce my student loans, pretty please!!!! 

Here is a clip I love, from an HBO show called Newsroom. It's a bit lengthy, but it's worth to watch. America could easily be the greatest country in the world.

2012

Another year has come to an end. I spent some time today looking through pictures from the last 365 days. Some things I saw there seemed like they happened years ago, while some seem just like yesterday. Made me think of all the people I know, all the places I visited, things that I did this year. So very rich. A chapter has ended, and another has begun. In more than one way. 

Some things to contemplate for 2013: more patience, less facebook, more running,  less complaining, and focus on the things that matter more, not on the small things.

Now I am off to run the usual midnight race in Central Park. Here are some of the pictures that made me nostalgic, happy or sad about this past year:

 

Anti-constitution demonstration in Budapest during the early days of 2012 - Hungary shall be a republic.

 

 Sasha, who reminds me of that whole crazy living arrangement I had for the first half of the year.

 So many interviews: my trip to Stanford and the Bay area in February was amazing! Even though I didn't get accepted there, it was the best school I got interviewed at and I loved just being there.

 

 The first nice days of spring in Central Park, with Kata.

 In Washington, DC for the Cherry Blossom 10M race in April with Rachel and David. Rachel and I will be running it again in 2013!!

Bohemian beer garden in Astoria!

 Leah and Rob's wedding cake, by Janice, of course - a lot of close friends got married this year.

 Rob with the Northwestern fencing girls at his wedding

Sipping martinis with Kelsey and Lauren at Rob's wedding - NU fencing reunion

 Urszula and Alex got hitched too, at City Hall

 Becky and John's wedding 

 Saying good-bye to the 4th floor of HSS in June

 Back home again in June, with Szidi at Lake Balaton for some sailing

 My precious little niece with my Mom in Budapest

 At the Sting concert, just like when we were 17!

With my brother near Hamburg

With Berit in Hamburg

 Hamburg - at the Elbe

 London with Dani - running in the rain

Dubrovnik with my cousins from all over the world

 In London again, this time, for the Olympics

An almost perfect day in London

 Prague with Jana and the little ones

With my parents in Budapest, photo by Yen

 The summer of 2012 was arguable one of the best of my life so far. So many people, places, happenings. Budapest, Hamburg, London, Prague, Dubrovnik, all amazing! I was incredibly sad to leave.

 New life about to start: getting to know my new med school classmates

 My roommate and I at our White Coat ceremony in August. A huge adventure about to begin.

 Halloween, some med students, some friends...

 Hurricane Sandy in October. We were out biking around the city the next morning. At the time, we had no idea how much damage it had done. The post-hurricane days were kind of fun for us, but we can still feel the after-effects. Things at NYU are just now going back to normal.

 For a few days, I was living like a refugee - not a bad lifestyle when your host makes guacamole for dinner - with Emese in Astoria

 

 Election day - Paul is very excited to vote in Murray Hill

Brooklyn Night Bazaar - perhaps a new holiday tradition

At the Columbus statue art exhibit - it's literally a living room with Columbus in the middle of it

Aditya turned 30 and is about to cut a sailboat cake, by Janice of course