Chinese herbs

We had our first exam on Friday. I honestly don't have a clue as to how it went. It was more difficult than I had expected, but only because people (as in 2nd years) kept saying that it was going to be easy, and our course director encouraged us all week to "focus on the overarching concepts" rather than the minute details. Well, at least 80% of the exam was on the minute details. Thank god for those 6 years in grad school! Still, there were a few things I just didn't really learn, because I honestly thought we would learn it later on. Anyway, I am sure it's gonna be different the next time, knowing what to expect and all. Let's say this was a trial run.

So they say that med students study hard and party even harder. That seems to be the case here. To make up for the nights spent in the library, a lot of people were determined to... well, let's just say, to party on Friday night. Living in the "dorms" and being around a lot of younger people, I figured I would try this. After all, I don't want to be that older chick who never goes out.

Ok, I take that back. I will happily be that person who never goes out (with them). In the future.

I read a blog written by a girl who seems to be in a pretty similar situation to me. Worked for some time after college, then decided to go back to med school in her late 20's, she lives somewhere in the DC area. She often writes about her experiences with people in med school. She wrote several times since I started reading her blog that she only likes a handful of people in her class. I imagine we are in similar shoes here. While I have met a lot of really nice people in the past few weeks, I am pretty sure I will only be close with a handful of them, and the 150 other people I will never much care for. That's ok. I think it's much better to be focused on the more important things anyway. Like getting that MD.

So yeah, the Friday night party was pretty crazy. There was a broken ping pong table even before we left for the bar. There were of course shots, handles of liquor, cases of beer... then, a dark, slightly sleazy bar with really bad drinks, maybe 80 med students... yeah, not my thing. And when leaving early, someone asked "but how are you gonna get home?" I said, "I am taking the subway, of course" to which, there were stares of disbelief. I just smiled to myself. And decided that I really don't much care for fitting in.

With that said, there are a few people I really do like here. There is my very caring roommate for instance. Almost every day she asks me if I want to try this or that thing that she's cooking. Almost always, she ends up making me a meal a day at least. These past few days, I have had this lingering cold, sore throat and all, that just wasn't getting any better. Her Mom recently sent her a Chinese Mom care package, which included some food, tea and some unidentifiable things. She swore that if I drank this herbal tea I would not get a cold. So I have been drinking this slightly scary looking substance for a few days now. It doesn't taste bad, it's sweet, and well, even if it's not doing anything, it's surely not hurting me. Right? Then, yesterday, I came home complaining that my throat was still hurting. She said we needed stronger measures: the tea was for prevention, but now that I had the disease, let's be more aggressive. She took something out of the fridge: little vials neatly packed in a carton box, the color of soy sauce. She took a needle and punctured the top of two vials, stuck tiny little straws in them, and said that I HAD to drink one. She was drinking the other one - I think because she knew I wouldn't do it otherwise. She said it would be a little bitter. Was it bitter? Holy shit! Well, anyway, it went down. I figured it couldn't be any worse than Unicum (without the alcohol, of course).

This morning, I wasn't feeling too much better. Throat still sore, my voice in the morning must have been a little disconcerting because our Korean friend who came over for breakfast immediately offered me even stronger medicine. She said this was magical Korean stuff. Just don't ask what it is. She said she had taken it the night before since she wasn't feeling well either, and voila, today, she was perfect and well rested. She said "Don't worry, these will knock you out, you'll get a great night's sleep, and will feel like new the next day." All right, I told her I would try one. Turns out, it's a package. Of 6 pills. SIX. Yes. And the 6th one is a half. I wonder what would happen if I took a whole one of #6.

I don't know whether, as a future doctor, my decision can be considered a wise one. But I have to admit, I just took 6 pills of unknown identity, which came in this little pouch. I am kind of desperate for a good night's sleep right now. Let's see what happens.

It's real

It really just hit me last night: I am going to be a doctor! Yeah yeah, of course I have known (or suspected) this for some time now, but sitting in lectures with 161 other people, listening to the same somewhat dry molecular biology I had learned in college and then worked with in the lab for 6 years, is not all that exciting. And it does not seem all that different from what I've been going for the past 10 years.

Also, med school is like middle school in some ways. Middle school with drinking games. There are clicks (I seem to be associated with one of the Asian clicks), gossip, silly stuff like "that girl hit on every guy at the bar last night" or "she had to be carried home from the club last night" (incidentally, those two occurrences involved the same person). I do somewhat envy the people who live off campus, in real apartments (like ones that have a living room or at least enough space to have more than 1 person over at a time), a little more removed from this fraternity-like social environment. But then in some ways, it's fun to live with someone who's doing the exact same things that I am doing. And she is fun! We get along really well. Which is a huge relief, especially after my living situation last year.

So last night, we had to prepare for small group conferences that we're going to have every week from now on. They are all based on specific cases, related to what we are learning in our lectures, but more like real life situations. Basically, we had to gather some background on four specific diseases that were in the cases, think about how we would advice the patients, etc. I swear it was not my idea to finish the mimosas I had left over from brunch this weekend! Nonetheless, it made for a really fun evening of studying/getting tipsy with my roommate.

And that's when it hit me. I was finally learning about medicine! About how the finicky details of eukaryotic protein synthesis relate to people who have a particular mutation in a particular gene that encodes for a protein that is involved in ion transport. Cystic fibrosis. I got so into it. While my study partner was breezing through the cases, I was going into excruciating detail reading about the various classes of mutations, how they affect the protein, what kinds of different symptoms they produce, and so on. As a side-note, we didn't have to know basically any of those details for today's discussions. In any case, she waited for me to finish - cooked both of us dinner in the meantime - and we did our required quiz at the end of the prep together. We agreed that I should probably be an oncologist, and her maybe a surgeon or an ER doc.

It finally feels real. Also, we have an exam in 3 days. That's when it's going to get really REAL! And then next week, when we have to do our first patient interview with actors (who are apparently very very good). All while wearing our white coats and stethoscopes!! :D

First day of medical school

First day of class is DONE. Ok, well, it wasn't yet a real day of class (although I did just spend an hour or so doing genetics problems already). It was more of an introduction, but still very cool and worth writing a few words about. We have a relatively new curriculum with many fancy-sounding features, such as "virtual patient #21 (VP21)" and "pillars of disease". So far, I figured out what the pillars meant. There are four of them: each represents a broader group of diseases. Diabetes, heart disease (atherosclerosis), colon cancer and TB (and no, TB is not an eradicated disease as one of my classmates suggested today). Throughout medical school, these four pillars will reappear in our courses, discussions, and then later on, in our clinical training. I think the whole point is to put real faces on diseases. So on our first day of medical school, we met four people, each of whom suffer (or used to suffer) from one of these diseases.

What's actually super cool is that almost exactly two years ago, before I even began applying to med school, I read this article in the Times, exactly about what I have just experienced today:
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/09/03/nyregion/03medschool.html

So today, I was there, one of the slightly nervous new medical students in the audience. How cool is that??!! I cannot even believe it.

In any case, it was so touching to hear these patients speak about their experiences: good and bad ones alike. They clearly had great relationships with their current physicians (otherwise, I assume, they would not have agreed to do this) and that was really nice to see. They all shared some very personal stories, with 162 complete strangers; all in the name of education. Wow!

Later in the day, we met a few doctors, all with different paths to where they are today. Some had known what they wanted to be since they can remember; others made their minds up later. The common theme was that they all defied some odds. My favorite one was a woman in her 60's maybe, who switched residencies a few times before she realized that she really wanted to be an orthopedic surgeon - not so easy for a woman even 20 years ago - and while fighting to be accepted, working twice as hard as all the men around her, she decided that even though she was single and never had much time for dating, she wanted to have a baby. So she did. While she was a fellow. And single. Wow. Nothing is impossible.

We also spent nearly two hours listening to our own classmates talk about the different events, people or things that have motivated them to arrive at this point in their lives. Most stories were very personal: a sick family member, friend, an experience with death, or with unjust social situations. One girl was a lawyer before she decided to pursue medicine: she was working with refugees, which ultimately motivated her to change careers and now she is here. I hope I will get to talk to her at some point.

Tomorrow will be a day of real classes. Paying attention, taking notes, learning things. Should get some rest before.

Getting oriented

Wow, what a week! I've been back in NYC for 10 days now, and it seems like it's just been one really long day. Moving, settling in, meeting my new roommate, meeting a hundred other people - I only remember about 10 of their names - trying to be super social... on some days, I can totally do it, but on some others, it takes some special effort. The thing is - both good and bad - that I have been living in this city for 7 years now, and I have tons of friends. In fact, I have been trying all week to catch up with my friends I hadn't seen for nearly two months. So, in a way, I feel like I don't have to make a huge effort making a ton of new friends. On the other hand, I'd like to. And of course, I'd like to spend time with the people who I am going to share this whole medical school experience with for the next 4 years.

The first social event of orientation was an ice-cream social I might have mentioned in my previous post. I walked in there and was immediately mortified. Imagine about 100 people, averaging 23 years of age, all talking at the same time, all of them meeting each other for the first time, everybody asking the same few questions: where are you from, where did you go to undergrad...? After the first 5 of these conversations, I started to desperately look for people who looked older. I met a few, who were 25-26, most of them married, not even living on campus. Now, I know that I will have to get over this idea that I am older and therefore, I somehow don't fit. Once we are all in the same classes and learning the same things, it will no longer matter, I am 100% certain. We will all be study partners. We will all be sharing the same experience. But this first week was a little tough. I also had my birthday during orientation, entering the last year of my 20's. While I really don't think it's a big deal at all - in fact, I feel way better in my skin than I did at 22 or 23 -  it did make me feel especially old when looking around the room this whole week.

With all that said, I did meet a few people already who I really like. Perhaps not surprisingly, they are originally Chinese, Korean, Russian and Pakistani. My roommate is the nicest girl; when she found out it was my birthday on Wednesday, she went and bought an ice-cream cake, which we've been munching on all week.

On Wednesday night, however, all I wanted to do was to get away and hang out with some old friends.  I took my newest Russian friend, Maia, along with me to my favorite Upper East Side dive bar, and it was lovely. This whole week, most of the people in my new class have been wanting to just go out and drink and drink and drink. I guess that's what happens right after college. I suppose I used to go out a lot more, to awful places where you can barely move and can most definitely not hear anybody talk. It no longer appeals very much. But at least I know that now, and can chose not to do that.

One evening, we went on a really nice harbor cruise around Manhattan. It included a very yummy dinner and 2 drinks (half of the class being young Asian girls, I managed to collect a few extra drink tickets for myself, which made the whole experience a lot more enjoyable).

                                                             My roommate

Then the best part of the whole week came: we got our white coats (that we'll be wearing as medical students when we see patients) and other doctoring equipment. The white coat ceremony is a big deal at most schools. It's sort of like a reverse graduation. Everyone went up on the stage individually with the white coats, and one faculty member literally helped us into them. It's a nice gesture: they are handing down their knowledge to us in the next 4 years, and also putting on our white coats, which symbolize being a physician. The keynote speaker for the ceremony was a historian named David Oshinsky, who wrote a book titled Polio: An American Story a few years back, which won the Pulitzer. I loved that the speaker was a humanities PhD; well spoken, very interesting, he gave such an amazing and inspiring speech! I didn't know before that both Sabin and Salk, who were responsible for two different Polio vaccines, attended NYU Medical School back in the 1930's. He gave a nice overview of the history of the medical school, and Bellevue Hospital in particular, which is the oldest public hospital in the US. It's pretty amazing that I am going to be training in that hospital in less than 2 years time! After we were "cloaked", we also took an oath - sort of like a pre-medical school Hippocratic oath:

I solemnly pledge to devote my life to the service of humanity;
I will give my teachers and faculty mentors the respect and gratitude which is their due;
I will carry out my studies and training with conscience and dignity;
My studies and the health of my patents will be my first consideration;
I will maintain by all means in my power, the honor and noble traditions of the medical profession;
I will not allow consideration of age, gender, ethnicity, religion, politics, or social standing to interfere with my relationships with my patients of colleagues;
I will maintain the utmost respect for human life and death and will not use my medical knowledge contrary to the laws of humanity;
As a physician-in-training I make these promises freely and upon my honor.

 It feels like I already have a lot of responsibilities.

May I say that this white coat looks pretty good on me?? :)

On the last carefree weekend of the year, I wanted to do fun stuff - besides having had to run a million errands still, and whatever did not get done by tonight, I know will not get done for a very long time to come! After having avoided a sunburn all summer, through sightseeing in various European cities and spending days at the beach in Dubrovnik, I managed to burn myself on an overcast NYC day, at the Governors Island Jazz Era Lawn Party. Anyway, it was fun! Imagine a whole bunch of New Yorkers dressed in 1920's era clothes, swing music playing in the background, people having a picnic on a relatively isolated island off the coast of Manhattan.

Apparently, half the city was there because I ran into three people I knew whom I didn't go with. One of them had VIP access and got me delicious champagne cocktails. Another girl, I used to fence with at a NYC club for a few years after college, tried to convince me that I should come back and go fence with her sometimes. Very appealing actually, when I think about the frustrations that might be coming my way, the thought of going to hit people with a weapon sounds like a good way yo release some stress and anger. I will think about it in the coming weeks.

                                        Governors Island view of lower Manhattan

Well, it's getting late. And I just had two Mojitos, last night of carefreeness for a while. Tomorrow, a new life starts :) How freaking exciting!!!!

Everything is ok

About a memory:

Each time it appears, it delivers a kick to some part of my mind. "Wake up," it says. "I'm still here. Wake up and think about it. Think about why I'm still here." The kicking never hurts me. There's no pain at all. Just a hollow sound that echoes with each kick. And even that is bound to fade one day. At the Hamburg airport, though, the kicks were longer and harder than usual. Which is why I am writing this book. To think. To understand. It just happens to be the way I'm made. I have to write things down to feel I fully comprehend them.

Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami


Everything is ok as long as I keep moving. And thankfully there is a lot of moving to do these days. My new apartment initially seemed so small, I almost started having second thoughts about all this. Am I moving back to the dorms? Is this like college all over again? Then, everything was ok. Everything fit. Moving was easy (thanks to a very dear friend). I have a bed to sleep on. Assembling things is very therapeutic. I see why people enjoy building things, repairing things and such. And writing. To fully comprehend things, I couldn't agree more with that statement.

So far, I am having a hard time with this transition. It hasn't sunk in yet. I am in medical school. What the hell?? How did I get here? I have been preparing for this for years and thinking about it, and hoping for it and now I am here, and I can't even believe it is happening. Maybe once I get thrown into the deep water. The past few days I have been trying to catch up with friends, since I haven't seen anyone in 2 months and now I will probably not see them for 4 years - hopefully, that's an exaggeration - but now I have to start meeting new people. New mindset. My roommate is very sweet, friendly, social. I am so glad. And in a few minutes, we are heading to the first social event of medical school: the first year ice-cream mixer. I think I might be back in college... did I mention that someone in the elevator asked me if I was a resident???

Home is...

"Home" is a strange concept. Is it where we live, where we were born, where our loved ones are? Perhaps, where we feel at home? For me, Home, with a capital "H", is Budapest. Born and raised there, I think it's one of the most beautiful cities in the world, my family is there, and many friends. When I go to Budapest, I say and feel that I am going home. Whether I stay with my parents or at my own place, I am home. Even though I have less and less friends there, it's so important to me to at least try to nurse my relationships with people there. The funny thing is, sometimes, when I am in Budapest and I talk about going back to NY, I say I am going home. home with a small "h" maybe, but home nonetheless.

When I lived in other places, like near Chicago, it never felt like home. Whenever I traveled somewhere, which was often, I was a little sad to return there. College wasn't my favorite thing in the world, and I had trouble meeting people at first, which I think had a lot to do with this feeling. When I return to NY, I am never sad. Even after an amazing summer vacation, landing at JFK was thrilling. (Having to fight my way through midtown craziness, however, was not at all thrilling. Why oh why does any New Yorker go to Times Square???)

Today, I had many errands to run: renew license, go to the bank, go to the doctor, more blood tests, more vaccinations, buy a bed (IKEA is both heaven and hell), say hi to friends... it was stressful! And I was in some unfamiliar areas of the city: even though it's the same city, there is something about new places that stress me out a little bit. I remember when I first moved to Harlem, I didn't find it particularly appealing, and I didn't think I would like it, but a few weeks later, the streets felt familiar and comfortable again. I am sure it's going to happen with my new neighborhood too.

After a particularly bad pang of nostalgia, while riding the water taxi towards Manhattan (IKEA is at a far-away place in Brooklyn), I decided to go visit my old neighborhood. More accurately, the lab. Yup, I could not wait to get out of there 2 months ago, and here I was, a little sad, very nostalgic, and the place I most wanted to go was the lab. I took the train uptown and surprised the 4th floor of HSS. I brought some chocolates from Europe, so everyone was happy, told them stories from my summer, we laughed like we used to so much. Someone from the end of the hall ran towards us: "I heard you were here from all the way back there!!" Like good old days, gossiping in the hallway, being loud, laughing out loud. Ahh, I missed those girls! That damn lab, I have to admit, that I spent 5 years in, feels like home.

I suppose it's not about the place, the city - because being in NYC just one day reminded me of all the things I did not miss about it: the humidity, the traffic, the taxis, the honking, the subway, the rats, the roaches, the trash - but about the people, and about where your heart is. Even when I am sad or a little lonely, I know the people and the places here that will cheer me up and make me feel at home. I hope that my new place will soon feel like that too.

All things end

All good (and bad) things come to an end. I suppose it's the great struggle of many of us humans: the moments that last ages, which we cannot wait to get over, and the moments we want to spend years in, which fly by so quickly, all that's left is a fleeting memory of it. Moments when we wish we could stop time: a perfect day by the sea, riding your bike in the wind, touching your lover's face to try to memorize it before the moment of parting, hugging your best friend good-bye before a long journey, or a summer of freedom. I have had nearly two months of those moments, and now it is coming to an end. I am sad. I feel like I am losing something that I can never get back. These memories will always stay with me, I hope. Some of them will make me smile and some will make me cry when I look back to them. But now, it's time to look forward into the future; the coming weeks and months fill me with anxious excitement. A new chapter soon beings in my life. All things end, but then new things begin. Such is life.