When I grow up...

I think science is cool. Of course, just look at the title of this page. To clarify, however, I would say that I loved the idea of science, the theory. Doing science, as we do in lab, is a whole different story. For some people, they are the same; but for me, it has become somewhat of a repetitive daily routine, the technicalities which I do enjoy, but I am having more and more trouble seeing the big picture, the significance, which, ultimately should be why we do what we do. I can't help asking myself why I am doing what I am doing, what is the point of my project? I am afraid that the answer is that it's only for the sake of having a project. And I suspect that many projects people are spending loads of money on are the same way. Otherwise, how would graduate students get that PhD? We need projects. Ultimately, I am sure that there is some benefit to the progression of science, but I am not sure I can justify that for myself.

It's such a cliche to say that I want to make a difference and help people, but that's really what it comes down to. It's difficult to really put into words why I want to be a doctor. Working with people, sure, the adventure and challenge of having to figure out what's wrong with a whole person, using the science I know and combining it with the "human factor" - all that we, scientists, don't think about too much - the adrenaline rush of being able to change someone's life. Last night, I got a small glimpse of this adrenaline rush.

I have been volunteering in the pediatric emergency department for a few months now in a hospital located in a pretty poor area of the city. The ER is often overcrowded and understaffed. Every Monday night, I make my way downtown, hang out there for a couple of hours: I do simple things from giving people water, snacks, try to make them feel a little more comfortable, run samples to the labs, pick up meds from the pharmacy, and whatever the doctors need. Now I have gotten to the point where I know most of the doctors, they recognize me too and know why I am there. Sometimes, the residents let me follow them around and so I get to go see the patients with them. As with most inner city ER's I guess, it's more of a primary care facility than a trauma center. Lots of kids with colds, rashes, sometimes asthma, or cuts requiring stitches. I had not seen anything more exciting than stitches being put in.

Last night, the resident was a very nice girl, about my age, we started talking and she told me to just follow her. We were going in to see a little girl who had a bad abscess, which had to be drained. She was too young to talk, and her Mom looked super scared; she could not have been more than 18 herself, pregnant with her second child. After examining the baby, the resident discussed with the attending and they decided to cut the abscess open to drain it, with local anesthetic. So we went in to explain to Mom about this, and she practically had a panic attack upon hearing this. She started hyperventillating and said that she was having contractions - while only 6 months pregnant - scary! The doctor did his best to calm her but he couldn't convince her to leave the room while the procedure was done. It was a pretty intense situation; I was just standing in the corner, listening. After they started prepping the baby, it became clear that she was way stronger than she looked and they needed at least 2 people to hold her down. So the attending asked me to help. I mean it's not a big deal, just holding the baby's legs so she wouldn't move around so much, but as a consequence, I got to see everything from very close up. The whole time, the baby was screaming, trying to get out of our hold, and yet, the doctor made hi incisions with such accuracy I was amazed!

After the whole thing was done, finally Mom got to hold her baby and she slowly calmed down. I brought them some juice and tried to chat for a little bit, but the baby clearly remembered that I was holding her down just minutes before. Suddenly, the Mom asked me if they could stay in the hospital overnight. She said she was nervous about doing something wrong with the wound, maybe it would get worse, it was already 10pm and she was having contractions! She was clearly terrified. I went to find the doctor and told him about this. He told me he really appreciated my help and that he was really glad I caught this. He said I should tell them that they could be admitted to pediatrics. When I went back to tell the Mom, she seemed super relieved.

Before heading out, I poked my head in to say bye to them. The baby was finally asleep on her Mom's lap. Mom said her pains stopped. Phew, thank god! They both seemed so peaceful finally. She thanked me for everything (I didn't think I did very much at all) and that felt amazing! I walked out of the hospital feeling like I was walking on a cloud. Walking to the bus stop, I was thinking to myself: this is why I want to be a doctor, this exact feeling, which is almost impossible to put into words. That simple "thank you" form a worried Mom, that word of appreciation from a doctor, that baby sleeping peacefully on her Mom's lap... those are such incredible experiences I don't ever want to forget, and even as a doctor, I want to always remember the human element in medicine, which is why I am so attracted to it.

Addicted no more

It's been a little rough getting back into the flow here in New York. I find the months after the holidays a little blue; although this time, it's working in my favor. I don't feel bad about shutting myself up in the library, lab, or my apartment. It's cold, gets dark early, people around seem to be in a generally bad mood. I've been sensing a lot of anger. The funny thing is, while all this negativity is upsetting me, in the end, I can clearly see the balance that is always present but sometimes harder to notice. For every inconsiderate person crossing my path, there is another one offering a great deal or caring and understanding; for all the anger and disappointment, there are apologies and positive thoughts. In the end, if we let ourselves get upset and dwell on negative things all time, we are creating a sort of negative energy around ourselves, which only feeds itself and it becomes more and more difficult to get out of the cycle. I am getting better at letting things go, which I find, makes life so much easier, so much more balanced.

And ultimately, I also find myself a lot less dependent on people these days. This is something I have been looking for a long time. I had tried so hard in times before to become more independent of people's opinions, people in general. I think that some of our need to be around people comes from out fears of being alone. Yet I often found that being with people could be just as empty and lonely as being alone, even possibly more so since we have so many expectations for others - our friends - which are impossible to meet and so ultimately, we are easily disappointed.

I have had to reevaluate some of my relationships. Maybe it's the new year, time for new beginnings, lack of free time. I don't want to "waste" time by wanting or needing to be around people next to whom I feel empty. And I want to make sure that I can still have time for those who I really care about. Priorities. Tough. But totally possible. And as someone who, for the first time in a long time, knows what she wants and how to get it, I feel fulfilled by the routines of the days and weeks, wishing for more time to prepare and for the passing of time to slow WAY down!

Like it here, like it there - Itt is jó, ott is jó

It's something I have always struggled with: to be happy where I was. I was always the ˝grass is greener˝ type of person, thinking that only if I was somewhere else, in some different situation, then I would be happy!

I am now happy here. And I am also happy there. Don't confuse happiness with good mood! I am not in a particularly good mood, but I am happy. And I know that I will happy tomorrow, flying across the Atlantic towards my other home. I am happy there too.

I miss people and places and feelings when I am there, and I miss some other ones when I am here. There is no way to have it all in one place. But now I can see the good in both and can appreciate them. I would like pack those people and places in my suitcase now, but I know I will just have to wait until next time to see them.

Farewell!

Nothing more to talk about

In my opinion, there are roughly two kinds of people:

The first kind are those who live by ˝Carpe Diem˝, who can take the moment, grab it and get the most out of it, without thinking too much about the future or the consequences. Let's take a girl who sees an old friend again after years, one she had always had a crush on but is now married, only to find out that he is also interested in her. She goes with the flow of the moment without thinking and kisses him. She thinks it's only a few kisses, nothing anybody will ever find out, nothing that will lead to anything more. Then a few kisses become a little more and then some more until she realizes that she has fallen in love with this old friend. Who knows how long it might take her to get untangled from this strange affair? Or let's take another girl who meets a visitor, who's only staying in her town for a few nights. This fact might not stop her from speding a few passionate nights in his arms, even though she knows all too well that the good-bye will be tearful. There are always the memories of those nights to keep her warm on cold and lonely days.

The second kind are those who consider the consequences before acting. I know much fewer examples of this kind of person, as I feel like I know a lot more of the first kind. There is something to be said for the ˝think first, act second˝ sort of people though. They might get hurt much less often. They might also experience less than the first kind of people. In my opinion...
Let's take a boy who likes a girl. Some time ago, they met in a far-away city. Then, the girl was silly, all wound up in an affair all too complicated for her. She didn't notice that the boy liked her. By now, she has realized what a great boy he was and how much she liked him too, but now, they live far away. He still likes her but it's too late now. She's there, he's here, there's nothing more to talk about. She wants to kiss him but he resists, as much as he can. He invites her to his party but gets scared when she shows interest. When she wants to talk, he doesn't think there is anything to talk about. It's too late, she's there, he's here, and he'd rather not get involved.

I AM the girl. And I think that the problem arises when people of the two different types fall in love.

Ends and beginnigs

I am trying not to analyze the past year too much on these first few days of the new year. I have grown, I have learned and become richer with many experiences. I think this sums up a good year. The details, while they are important, don't really matter that much as they are in the past and life is happening in the present.

The last few hours of the year were pretty special for me. It's been a few years since I was home for New Year's Eve. Maybe that's the reason I didn't know about the Hungarian custom of going to the horse race on this last day. One would think: what a horrible idea to go stand or sit outside in the freezing cold of December 31st, looking at horses circle a track! Well, it's actually tons of fun! There were plenty of people and hot wine to keep you warm, excitement - although I didn't bet mostly due to the long lines and the much shorter ones for hot wine :) - but it was a very nice thing to do on an afternoon with a full moon out.





After the horse track, I had a nice quiet dinner with my parents, eating the traditional bun-less hot dog and sharing a bottle Bikavér - Bull's blood. Then I headed out to meet Szidi for the party she got us tickets for. It was a pretty big party with concerts and DJs, most importantly, my favorite band, Quimby, was to play at 10:30, right into the new year.

As all party-goers know, it's much more economical to get drunk before arriving and then just trying to keep up the buzz without spending a fortune on expensive drinks there. (Of course, this has a whole other meaning in NYC, where a mixed drink at a concert starts at $10.) True to herself, Szidi brought some Croatian liquer - not sure if it was Sljivovica or Travarica or maybe Maraschino - but in any case, it was strong!

Also interesting is that the party was at an old university building next door to the high school I went to. Since it was halfway between Szidi's high school and the fencing club, we used to meet there after school for lunch or coffee - can't remember if I drank coffee in high school - and hanging out there used to make us feel older (everyone in high school wants to seem older and be at university, I am sure!). Since then (almost 10 years ago), the university moved and sold the building and is now a venue for concerts and parties, without any construction, so the whole thing still looks like a school, which is cool on the one hand, but not the greatest for concerts.

In any case, Szidi and I used to hang out on that street all the time! Ah, all the memories! Naturally, she didn't forget to bring up some of my embarrassing moments of stalking my high school gym teacher behind the school back yard :) and other stories... with our Croatian liquer and another bottle of wine, we stopped on a deserted corner. We talked like we used to, like best friends do, for whom months of being away from each other doesn't matter the least bit, like friends who can pick up where they had left off months or years before. Those moments were very special.



And then the concert was very special too. Quimby was also part of our teenage years, our coming of age years, our Hungarian experience, our friendship. We both still know the lyrics to most of their songs, we still feel like we are 18 when they play Libido or Halleluja, and we jump and dance like we used to. These might have been some of the few times recently I really let go and did exactly what felt right without thinking about it at all. The music, the dancing, the feeling, the memories, the crowd... and, at the end, after midnight, they even made the Hungarian anthem, which is as depressing as it can get, a little more fun :)



Great ending to 2009, not such a good beginning to 2010, due to finishing the bottle of Croatian liquer and the wine, then switching to gin-tonics and in the middle of it all, eating korhely-leves (cabbage in a soup with some sausage, with sour cream to top it off), which is what people usually eat the next day when they are hungover, not in-between 2 gin-tonics - only in Hungary do they serve free food in the back garden in the rain, at a big New Year's Eve party with 1000's of people.

Brother

Some things I realized: holding grudges is really stupid; ignoring someone who cares about you is really hurtful; friends are there to help you out no matter what, even when it means going far out of your way; people don't change, especially not within a few months; some people do change, real happiness can change them; there are plenty of things one can carry on a bike; pálinka is delicious but dangerous; you have to give yourself to what you are doing fully, otherwise what's the point of doing it?; there is something to just enjoying the moment without thinking about the consequences, it's exhilarating; you have to deal with the consequences once the moment has passed; ignoring them doesn't get you anywhere; snowstorms are beautiful; kissing in a snowstorm is wet, but lovely; and finally - for today, I mean - I have a brother, who teaches me how to play poker!

Déjà vu

Every city has some ppular meeting spots. In New York, it's usually a street-corner, in front of a store on Union Square or at a specific Starbucks. In Budapest, one of these spots popular among my friends is in front of a statue in the center of the city. A few times every year I seem to arrive at this statue, waiting to see the friends I see way too rarely. As I was standing there once again yesterday, I had the unmistakable feeling of déjà vu. Last time it was warm and I was able to sit and read while I waited; this time it was cold and dark and my feet were tingling by the time she arrived. I must have stood under that statue many many times before; at that moment last night, my life seemed like a collection of moments under the statue connected by the invisible lines of time. And the way we percieve time is strange: it seemed that it was just days ago I had stood there last, and yet it was more than 4 months ago. I wonder when the next moment on my life's map by the statue will be?