Both Delicious and Nutritious

From the home office in Wauwatosa, WI . . .

2007-12-19T16:36:00.000-06:00

A fine tradition in blogging from Bob Marley State has been the semi-annual Top-Ten List of quotations from professors and students alike, all vying to earn a coveted spot on the list. The competition was rough, all participants eagerly offering intensely popular opinions on various subjects, from sex to drinking and even some medical school in between. I hope you enjoy the offerings. And, to celebrate the ending of our journey in Grenada, the Top-Ten, for the first time ever, will officially have TEN+ quotations. Without further blathering from your host, the final Grenadian Top-Ten Quotations:

1. "It's not the Jolly's pool, we pay rent here and we own the pool." - Mrs. Rooney, wife of a professor. A dear friend of mine secured housing in a duplex with a pool in the backyard. Unfortunately, the first time we attempted to use said pool, the upstairs tenants objected heartily to this intrusion of the property. This become a constant mantra throughout the term as she was mocked mercilessly for her attitudes.

2. "When I was a boy, my father took me aside and said, 'Look, Boy, it only takes a few minutes.' Now, you labor for four hours and still want longer." - Dr. Hans Baer, professor of pharmacology, explaining the benefits (or apparent lack thereof) of Viagra.

3. "If any of you want to be rheumatologists, I'll kill you. You have loans to pay, you don't want to be rheumatologists." - Dr. Jimmy Lawrence, professor and practitioner of rheumatology, which is essentially the study of joints and connective tissue diseases.

4. "Our team is like herpes - we're always hanging around." - Andy, discussing the ability of his team during a rousing round of flippy-cup, and illustrating the great applicability of medical knowledge to everyday life.

5. "See, this is more fun than anatomy. I bought the twisted pleasure kind." Dr. Francis McGill, during an incredibly informative lecture on birth control. She proceeded to pass around said condom, along with several IUD's, and later apologized for not bringing a dental dam.

6. "Actually, I've been told when I buy suits that my arms are a bit longer than my legs should indicate. So, I blame that on operating on fat ladies all the time and leaning over the operating table." - Dr. Theo Welch, 80 year-old professor and surgeon, explaining how fractures can stunt limb growth.

7. "Technically we're winning because we're the only ones drinking." - Jeff, explaining how his losing effort resulted in a win during a party we labeled "Football Saturday" early in the semester.

8. "My girlfriend's mother has an HDL [cholesterol level] of 120. She is never going to die." Dr. Manny Suarez, professor of geriatrics, explaining life expectancy, while his girlfriend was in attendance.

9. "If I wrote a book one day regarding how to get through your first year in residency, the title would be Don't Fuck Up." Dr. Suarez, describing what should be our first priority in residency.

10. "For example, after this lecture, I'm going to go back to the hotel and I'm going to start to drink, to try and recover from this experience." - Dr. John Saldini, during the middle of his first ever lecture, explaining the balance of salt and water in the body.

And finally, last, but probably the most memorable quote from our entire term, oft repeated for no apparent reason at all hours of the day:

11. "Guuuuuurrrrrrrrrrrrrrlllllllllllllllllllllll . . . yo' baby's turnin' blue!" - Dr. Lawrence, perfectly copied, during an explanation on anaphylactic shock and the patient's friend's reaction.

Stay tuned for further updates as my classmates and I prepare for the United States Medical Licensing Examination (USMLE - Step 1) and the likely hijinks that will ensue.

An Open Letter to selected islands...

2007-12-18T12:20:00.000-06:00

Dear Grenada:

You earned a quick laugh for yourself. An EC$50.00 charge to leave your country is a clever way to earn a buck. You know that everyone wants to leave at all times, so the best way to make money is to charge people for their most coveted option. Brilliant - I shall endeavor to charge my patients in the same way: cheap visits and consultations; cheap lab tests and x-rays; but when it comes to the cure, milk it for all it's worth!

But that's not all. You worked your magic on the airlines, too. As I waited in the airport for my final flight from the island, it became to clear to me that I would not be free of your grasp anytime soon. Oh no, you cleverly arranged for a late arrival and departure from your humble airport.

I tried to leave my worries behind, but when my Air Jamaica flight arrived to collect me, it was an hour late! Normally, on my way home, these are not problems which concern me. However, when my connection from Jamaica to Chicago is scheduled to leave only 45 minutes after my arrival, I start to have doubts. Your promise of "The Spice of the Caribbean" rings hollow to many a young student's ear.

Dear St. Lucia:

How I would like to love you. Your beaches appear lovely from the air. You have mountains and valleys and lush vegetation. You have golden sand, gorgeous sailboats and friendly people. You apparently also have an airport. Unfortunately, I am only familiar with the runway and taxiway of your airport. I imagine that many would ask why. Many would wonder how this applies after my first letter to Grenada.

As it happens, Air Jamaica has jet-planes. So, I was flying with real power - none of those wimpy prop-planes that plague the American Airlines fleet. No, I was in a real position to have a safe and quick flight - with meal service, free champagne and the knowledge that I was flying toward Chicago at over 500 miles per hour with over 100 of my classmates. What I did not know is that you, St. Lucia, had the power to draw my beautiful jet-plane toward your island to board two extra passengers.

So, you successfully managed to take a flight that was already an hour late and lose more time to my rapidly decaying good mood.

And Dear Jamaica:

So many before me have been lured by your beaches, by your carefree attitude and by your bobsled team. But, in the end, you are no better than your comrades before you. As we taxied toward to the jet way and toward freedom, it was announced:

"All flights have been held and are awaiting boarding except those to Chicago, Atlanta and LA."

And so, it was unceremoniously that I learned there would be no America that day. There would be no snow. There would be no family. There would be no friendly faces. There would only be more sand, more saltwater, more "Ya, mon", more customs scrutiny (all my medical supplies were scrutinized and they needed to x-ray my chocolate bars twice to ensure . . . well, I have no idea what they were ensuring - it was chocolate) and 24 long hours of waiting for the next flight to depart for Chicago.

And even when I arrived at the airport the next day, you did your best to keep me there. Keeping my plane on the ground, while we sat in our seats, for an extra hour, we waited for some ubiquitous "customs paperwork" that was apparently missing. Of course it was missing - everything is always missing; everything is always delayed (except, clearly, on the previous day, when the flight obviously had to leave on time); everything runs on "Caribbean time" - to the very end.

But, when I stepped off that plane and froze my fingers and toes off, I had the last laugh. I was in America - the land of milk on the grocery stores; the land of choices in cereal; the land of clocks and schedules; the land of driving on the right-side of the road; the land of dollar bills; the land of couches and real ESPN.

So, you see Jamaica and St. Lucia and Grenada, you had your laughs for a day, but I will have mine for a lifetime. And, as I wash my laundry, lie on the couch and enjoy the food in the pantry, I know who's laughing now!

Sincerely yours,
Patrick Meloy, Unlicensed Medical Professional.

Four More Months . . .

2007-08-22T10:55:00.000-05:00

Well, it has been a long and arduous journey to make it here to the final four months of my first two years of medical school. I spent a short and beautiful summer making new friends, seeing old friends and hanging out with my family. I also answered far too many questions about how I liked Grenada and how much fun it must be to "be drinking mai-tai's and living on the beach." I tried to be polite, but I really should have directed everyone to the blog to read about the police, the effort in collecting my packages and ridiculous adventures I have had just trying to get here!

And, speaking of ridiculous adventures, I, of course, have another fun story about my journey down to Grenada. It all began in the spring, when the university decided that we would no longer be attending classes on the island of St. Vincent, but would instead be traveling back to Grenada to complete our second year of school (holy crap, we've almost been here for two years!).

Well, since the decision to switch islands was made so late in the school year, everyone in my class needed to scramble, not only in finding a place to live, but also to find plane tickets to get back to the island. My normal carrier, the hated American Airlines, was booked solid a week before and a week after classes started. And, since I was not remotely interested in doing the "island tour" of which I am so familiar, I decided to try a new airline - enter Air Jamaica.

Many of my friends have flown Air Jamaica several times and are very happy with them. Champagne service, hot meals and direct flights are the norm and so I was ready to actually enjoy my trip (for the first time!). So, I booked a flight on a Saturday morning for a 6.40am flight to Montego Bay from Chicago and a direct flight from there to Grenada a few hours after landing. I was thrilled.

Many of my friends are also aware of my unhealthy obsession with working at the Wisconsin State Fair. Having been a fixture in my life for the past 12 years, I am confused as to what will happen in my life if I were to actually stop working there. Unfortunately, working this job also means 16-hour days and a serious lack of sleep leading up to my final rush of seeing friends, family and packing! (As an interesting aside, I believe that I only ate two meals in my home in the last 14 days before I came back to Grenada - how sad is that?).

So, despite all this work and the shopping and packing and breakfast meetings and lunch meetings and dinners at the Fair, I managed to be prepared to leave by Friday afternoon for my early Saturday morning flight. Recall, if you will, that my flight on Saturday left at 6.40am. As a seasoned traveler, I understand the ridiculous nature of air travel and the reasons for being at the airport two hours early for my flight. So, my lovely mom and I agreed to be up by 3.00am and leave the house by 3.30am in order to arrive at O'Hare by 5.00am. These decisions were made on Friday around 8.00pm.

Around midnight, on Friday, we again reconfirm the details of our morning excursion. Mom says, "I'll set the alarm for 4.00am and we'll be out of the house by 4.30am." Without thinking, I completely agree and we both head to bed. Recall, again, my flight leaves at 6.40! Everything in the morning goes smoothly, but we don't get out of the house until at least 4.45am! However, we are completely unfazed, and continue on our merry way, oblivious to the fact that we have left over an hour late!

After we stop for gas and get back on the road by about 5.15, it occurs to me that it is actually 5.15 - and we are still approximately one hour from O'Hare! So, I start driving in earnest. As usual, there is serious construction in Illinois, along with horrible toll-booths every few miles, but I am completely unaware of anything around me . . . except the clock! My mom leans over in the front seat and declares that she never even thought my little car could go that fast! Flying through tolls around 100mph, all I could think is that this is just another in a long line of problems that I have in reaching Grenada without incident. All flights were booked to the island for another week, so missing this one would be devastating.

We cruise into the terminal around 6.05 and by the time I sprint to the counter, it is 6.10! I am, obviously, the only person there trying to check in for an Air Jamaica flight 1/2 hour before departure. The agents' only instructions are, "Run!" And so, run I did! I get to security with my little bags of liquids all separated out and my medical supplies in my carry-on. The liquids go through fine, but the TSA officer has a real problem with my stethoscope and other pieces of equipment. I can't believe it. He wants to know how all the pieces work!

Finally, he finishes with his inspection and I grab my things (shoes still untied) and book toward the gate. I run up to the counter and hand my ticket in as I see the plane sitting at the gate - I'm going to make it! As I ask where to go, I realize, there are still a lot of passengers at this gate, but I am assuming that they are waiting for another flight.

False! The flight hasn't even boarded yet! I am saved! And I look like an idiot for running to the gate while everyone else is still waiting! Sweet! Eventually, we board the plane a few minutes late and set off for Jamaica. I suppose it wouldn't be the same trip to Grenada without a significant incident (see any previous post about travel for more information). I would hate to hope against hope, but it almost seems as though my Karma has shifted. Why, you ask? For the simple fact that my luggage made it with me and I did not even have to spend any nights sleeping in an airport!

Sorry for the weakness of this story, but it's just another example of the Grenadian adventures I have come to know so well. Check the pictures page in a few days for shots of the new house and a new blog soon regarding the amazing ability of our new semester to be so much like the old. Stay cool and use the a/c as often as possible in my memory (as we no longer get it for free!).

Return of the 'Top-Ten'

2007-07-05T15:11:00.000-05:00

As so often happens at Bob Marley State University, I tend to lose track of all things in time and space. Actually, I think the real problem is that I happened to live close to the construction that was going in these recent terms – this causes a tremendous amount of marijuana to come floating through the air and into the rooms in which I reside. I say “rooms” as it becomes increasingly clear that I have not lived in an apartment or dorm, but rather, a cell that has stifled all creativity and destroyed my will to write and entertain those faithful who rely on my messages of encouragement, including Capt. Hutchens and his older-than-God son.

So, now that I am in full-recovery mode back in Milwaukee, WI, (which, although not technically Canada – in fact, it doesn’t even border Canada – is absolutely freezing. I think I have actually suffered frost-bite on two occasions already and I am working on a third), I am ready to write about the pleasantries that have occurred during the latest six-month streak on the tropical paradise that is Grenada.

To prepare for the onslaught of information that is the combination of 3^rd and 4^th terms in Grenada, I thought that I should begin with the Semi-Annual BMSU Top Ten List. Without further ado, let’s get to the quotes:

1. “So, when a 53-year-old CEO goes downtown to see his dominatrix and gets whipped on the bare buttocks while licking a toilet, that may reinforce the behavior.” – This was said by Dr. John Pettus, course director of the Behavioral Science class in Term 3. He was discussing conditioned stimuli and conditioned responses and chose to use an extremely colorful description. It was not just that he used this particular description, but he has the tendency to speak in an unbelievable monotone, and was able to say this with a straight-face and move directly onto the next topic. Needless to say, we were quite impressed.

2. “Can you remember the three items I gave you?” – Interviewer in a video demonstrating senile dementia.
“Ball, car and something to do with dope?” – The patient responded to the questions with amazing accuracy, considering that the three items were “ball, car and grass.”

3. “Saturday I’m going to get drunk like it’s my job.” – This was my roommate Jeff when discussing what we would do after our final exams were finished in 3^rd term. It is not just the fact that we were planning on drinking that weekend, but that there was a particular party we were planning on attending; namely, the 80s party. I myself am not a fan of the themed, dress-up party, but for some reason, the school’s 80s party has found its way into our hearts. To see for yourself, the glory that is the 80s party, check out the pictures in my album.

4. “A 35-year-old male from Ohio. He likes birds . . . I’ve said too much.” – Dr. Sukumbi. A former professor from the African continent, Dr. Sukumbi often had trouble with the English language (he once used a skunk in an example question and immediately said, "Skunk? What is skunk?"). Famously, the pathology class is rife with examples of diseases that, although they are highly variable in the real world, have only one answer in the exam world. Histoplasmosis is just one of these examples wherein, according to the class, one can only catch it in the Ohio River Valley, especially around bird droppings.

Now, this next one is not for the faint of heart (seriously, don't read this if you're as old or older than my roommate Andy) . . .

5. "Sometimes you need to be discrete, like when you're molesting young girls." - Dr. Stephen Vogel, neuro-pathology professor. I'm still honestly not sure what in the name of God he was referring to, but it definitely caught everyone's attention. We were discussing the way various lesions in the brain appear in a gross specimen and he was trying to get students to see the finer points. There is no doubt that we all missed the point entirely as we were all trying to fully appreciate this particular level of discreteness.

Well, as usual, I was not capable of finding ten actual quotes. However, I am not making any of them up (especially the level of discreteness required to see a disease). Stay tuned for some great stories of Fish 'Fryday', the Cricket World Cup and more. Also, check out the pictures page for more hijinks from the 80s party and other great extra-curricular activities.

Semi-Annual Top Ten

2007-02-02T14:10:00.000-06:00

Second term is an interesting time at SGU. There is slightly more free time, but this is spent taking naps and worrying about which class to study for next. We spent about the same amount of time at the beach, the same amount of time goofing off and the same amount of time studying our butts off for the next exam. But, now that we are all second year medical students, it's time to reflect on the good times that we just experienced. And, without any more boring introduction, I present the second installment of the BMSU 'Top Ten':

1. "You're going to have to come back; she's in a bad mood." - A registration clerk. A friend of mine was trying to straighten out some information regarding his registration. Unfortunately for him, it seemed the clerk was not having the best day, so the best advice the neighboring desk could give was to simply go away. It's hardly a surprise given the strenuous work ethic . . . oh, who am I kidding, there is no work ethic, but its such a great response to someone seeking help.

2. "You can't buy that right now because we haven't scanned them into the computer." - The check-out lady at the local campus store. In order to streamline the process of buying simple goods on campus, they installed a scanner and computer register over the summer. Unfortunately, they had not figured out how to actually use this technology and were unwilling to actually type in the price (since the prices remained the same) so that I could purchase a bag of chips. Just another example of Grenadians working hard to please.

3. "All neurons have one thing in common: they are small." - Dr. House. A classic line from one of the few good professors we actually had this term. This was our first lecture about neuro-transmission and it helped to have a little brevity to begin the day.

4. "Last night, when I went to use the toilet before bedtime, I found that a crab was inside my toilet! And it helped me to find a good use for your physiology textbook; I slammed it onto the toilet seat and started flushing like mad! My heart started pumping at a much faster rate and my sympathetic nervous system was activated soon afterward. Just imagine if I were describing two-point discrimination in class today!" - Dr. Pontus Persson. He was one of our lecturers for physiology and taught all the material relating to the physiological responses of the heart to various stimuli. I can honestly say that this is an experience I have not yet had!

5. "A 10 out of 10 on the pain scale is like being in Grenada, metaphysically." - I actually said this during a discussion amongst the roommates about how every patient who walked into St. Michael's Emergency Department had a 10/10, no matter what the actual ailment. I was trying to describe what an actual 10/10 would feel like and it seemed the most appropriate at the time.

6. "Have you ever heard of a pharyngeologist? No. Have you ever heard of a kidneyologist? Yes. Then study that." - Andy Hutchens, my roommate. During our 2nd term, various students could apply to help teach subjects to those people who were taking them in their 1st term. Andy was in the anatomy lab as a demonstrator, helping 1st-term students to gain a better understanding of what to study and pointing out various structures on the different cadavers. One of the students came to him and asked a very detailed question regarding whether or not a certain structure located in the pharynx would be on the exam. Andy simplified matters by offering this easy explanation.

7. "B is the new A." - Sandy Sicular. In discussing our final grades for the semester, this short phrase was uttered and has taken on life of it's own since then. Sandy gets credit for saying it first, but you hear it all the time around campus as everyone is laughing when they say/hear it. Its only fitting that we would have such a slogan here at BMSU.

Well, I've noticed that I've again left this list far-short of the ten required for an official top-ten countdown. I guess it is a good thing that I am not terribly concerned about this situation at all. I hope you have enjoyed the wrap-up of 2nd term and are looking forward to more stories as I enter into my second official year of medical school. I'm just hoping it is filled with a happy abdomen, more fiber and interesting stories (I'm definitely convinced that my first visit to the Grenadian mental hospital will come with it's share of oddities).

Finally, I have posted pictures of my new housing on the island of St. Vincent. Its not quite completed, but our land-lady insists that it will be done by February and will be fantastic. I have no reason to doubt her and am looking forward to our new home (and the beautiful views that come with it).

I Fought the Law...

2007-01-11T18:45:00.000-06:00

As has quickly become a tradition here in Grenada, after the end of our exams, we decided on having a nice dinner at the Beach House, the best restaurant that we can find locally. It was, as always, a rousing success. I have even uploaded photos, which can be seen on my pictures page, of all the people who were there and you can tell how much fun we had.

I myself, feeling much better after all the issues with my stomach over the recent months, was so happy to be hungry and was more than ready to eat a decent meal that did not include the use of my microwave. If you're ever in the neighborhood (and you really shouldn't be!) try the seared tuna; it's out of control.

As there were twelve of us at dinner and it seemed that everyone on campus was celebrating on that same night, dinner took exceptionally long, but we all enjoyed ourselves and the time spent relaxing in each other's company. We told stories, took pictures, laughed, drank and ate until it was time to move onto a more suitable bar to accommodate our increasingly loud conversation. Those of us who remained until the end managed to pile into two cars (sitting on laps and squeezing wherever possible) and headed back toward one of our more favored bars near campus.

As luck would have it, I was in the front car, driven by one of my neighbors across the hall. As we traveled along 'Airport Road', the other car, or so we thought, came up behind us and started flashing the brights and driving erratically. Well, naturally, the carful of idiot students that we are, we decided to offer some less than polite gestures out the windows and through the back window of the car. After it became clear that our 'friends' were not going to pass us, we simply sped up toward campus and headed down the long road that takes us into SGU.

It was at this point we discovered that the car behind us was, in fact, not our friends, but a non-descript pick-up truck driven by a man dressed in fatigues and his friend in sweatpants and a cut-off black shirt. They rapidly overtook us, pulled in front of our car in order to stop us and demanded that the driver hand over all his information and that we all be detained! They also demanded that the driver exit the car to be searched by these two men.

Well, for those of you who have never been, Grenada is a third world country at best, and it's law enforcement, or more appropriately, lack thereof, is abysmal in its top form. These two men repeatedly refused to show identification and continued to berate everyone in the car for our 'disrespect', yet offered no reasons for having pulled us over and offered no proof that they were in fact, officers of the law. For all intensive purposes, this had the look of a tourist robbery and we were the prime targets; inebriated students with no recourse!

The boys immediately got out of the car to assist the driver while the girls got on their phones and began calling everyone they knew. We had the embassy, the SGU security department, our friends, some peoples' parents and just about the entire campus alerted to our situation within minutes. And still, these two men, continuously yelling and making demands, refused to identify themselves except to say that they were police and we needed to do what they said.

While we were arguing over our rights with the supposed officers, more disconcerting activities began happening around us: other cars began pulling up and joining in the discourse, which at this point turned into yelling; these "officers'" friends drove around us and completely surrounded the car, were walking around and just yelling to "arrest everyone." Meanwhile, no one had yet to show a badge and no one had yet to wear anything more identifying than mesh shorts and cut-off t-shirts. It was safe to say things were starting to get out of hand!

At this point, we had all exited the car in question and were waiting for the SGU security team to come help us sort out the situation. Finally, they arrived and, surprisingly, confirmed that all these men were, in fact, police officers. So, we had been fighting with them the whole time when we should have been obeying them - yet still, no IDs were shown.

We were instructed to drive to the nearest Coast Guard station where questions would be asked and we would find out the punishment for our actions, despite no one actually yet explaining what we had done to be pulled over! With SGU security in tow and friends on the phones, we piled back into the car and made our way to the station.

Our driver and one other person were taken to an office and I was left with four girls at the car, to be guarded by the men with shotguns and M-16s. We knew they weren't going to shoot us, but perhaps the overzealous guarding could have been avoided in order to not screw with our heads.

As it happened, the boys in the office were being apologized to by the captain of the police force for the poor way in which we had been treated. It turns out, we were right to ask for IDs and these men had far overstepped their bounds in trying to force our compliance. Outside, nothing had changed; we were not recipients of apologies nor did the force required to keep us near the car change. In fact, at one point, I was called into the garage, away from the four ladies, to be asked where we were going, as though the guy in an athletic shirt was holding court with me in the garage!

It was all obscene and so over-the-top as to almost be comical. Except that it was not comical at all and could have been avoided in the first place if they had produced identification (as required by Grenadian law) or had a police car, flashing lights, etc. We were escorted back to campus and rehashed the whole scenario over several drinks, laughed a little, yelled at each other a little and reminded ourselves that Grenadians will always resent everything we do, no matter if it's a simple matter of going to school or a more complicated matter of driving home from a restaurant.

Part IV: Radioactive Eggs

2007-01-04T14:46:00.000-06:00

After arriving back at school, it was decided by my friends that we would hold the Summer of George (reference Seinfeld) in order to recover my “deliciousness,” as it were. I have since posted pictures of this glorious day, which included wake boarding and other fine adventures, somewhere on my pictures link to the right. It was a fairly excellent day and evening and since we had all finished midterms (I had to retake the physiology midterm that I had missed, but survived unscathed) it was a nice day of relaxation as we prepared for the onslaught of the second half of the term.

Sadly, the recovery of my internal stability did not go as well as we had hoped. In fact, I continued to deteriorate. And so, it became increasingly clear that I needed to again head home and receive more medical attention. To ensure that I could not find what I needed in Grenada, I again headed to the clinic and was advised that there was nothing they could do except a blood test, that wouldn’t be drawn for another three days and then we would wait for the results. I politely declined.

My weight-loss notwithstanding (I had now dropped 30 pounds), the rest of my days were suffering from lack of food and drink and I was simply unable to function in a normal capacity. And so, the week before Thanksgiving, it was back to America to seek medical help for whatever was making my life miserable.

After the first round of blood tests came back negative, it was time for some more interesting methods. And so, I headed to the lovely St. Joseph’s Hospital in Milwaukee for some radiological studies. I had my first abdominal ultrasound followed by the most interesting test to date: a gastric emptying study.

I ate an egg that was scrambled with radioactive material and then placed in a machine that would measure the distance and speed with which the radioactive particles moved through my system. Finally, a test came back with some interesting results: my stomach empties at a rate which is 1/3 of the normal person’s.

The only problem with all this testing is that there is no definitive reason for why this should be happening. That is, now that we know the stomach empties at a slower rate, we still have to find out what is making it do that and how to make it go faster!

In the midst of all this testing, I was fortunate enough to be able to have Thanksgiving at home. I missed what purported to be the best Thanksgiving dinner ever cooked by my friends Jeff and Nick back in Grenada, but I think I got the better end of the deal. Rotisserie chicken with sweet potatoes, veggies and pumpkin pie for dessert and I was just about in heaven, even though I could only eat a child’s portion.

And so I began on a new round of drugs in the hopes that I would start feeling better. Finally, after two and a half weeks at home, lying on the couch and being force-fed by my entire family, I started feeling like I could eat more and was even hungry for food at some points.

With things starting to get better, it became clear that I needed to head back to school to try to recover and save what was still left of my second term of medical school. It seemed a daunting task. By the time I would return, I had missed a total of four weeks of lectures and was so far behind that I pretty much thought it would be an insurmountable amount of material to cover and recover in time to actually pass my classes.

As luck would have it, I found plane tickets for a Friday flight to Grenada. And, as my luck would also have it, there was a massive blizzard in Milwaukee and Chicago that night, grounding all flights from Chicago and pushing my flight plans back to Sunday. I was starting to cut it close as there were only seven days before exams began. Well, Sunday went well and I even met my roommate Jeff in San Juan as he was returning from his sister’s bat mitzvah.

We boarded our flight and made it back to Grenada without issue. After a week of painful studying and cramming, I managed to pass my classes and officially finished my first full year of medical school. I’m thousands of dollars in debt (made more clear by my woefully inadequate insurance plan), but I’m feeling better, eating more and starting to live my life again. I can only offer many thanks to my friends and family who helped my recover and are still supporting me now.

To recap my recent adventures:

- 1 complete abdominal CT with contrast.
- 1 series of chest x-rays.
- 1 upper-endoscopy.
- 1 colonoscopy.
- 2 IVs.
- 1 abdominal ultrasound.
- 47 separate blood tests.
- 1 urinalysis with culture.
- 3 stool samples for parasites, ova, cysts and cultures.
- 1 gastric emptying study.
- 11 separate plane flights.
- 6 separate doctors.
- 7 total prescriptions (including my now daily fiber dose - yes, I'm an old man now).
- 0 final diagnoses.

I know these last few entries may have been on the more boring side, but they were an important part of my life over these last four months and I believe this entire experience will only make my future career more empathetic and rewarding for both myself and my patients. I can also guarantee that the semi-annual “Bob Marley State Top Ten” and the story of our last night of exams will be more than enough to keep you reading into the new year.

Part III: Gallbladder Disease

2006-12-25T17:25:00.000-06:00

It was at this point that most people I think would tend to quit. Andy and I had tried our best to secure diagnosis and treatment for some disorder that was affecting me, and yet, our efforts were thwarted at each turn. With a heavy heart I turned toward my family and advice from home to help recover from whatever dastardly disease was attacking my insides.

Hope was restored after speaking to a doctor in the States. He recommended a series of blood tests and x-rays that would help determine the extent of my difficulties and hopefully guide some sort of treatment plan while still allowing me to remain in Grenada and study for my various exams.

So, after completing my Neuroscience midterm after only 1 hour (those of you who have never taken neuroscience should scoff lightly at this remark – with 80 questions all requiring some serious second and third order logic and mental capacity, it was no small feat) I proceeded again to the on-campus clinic.

Armed with notes from my doctor and more information, I got to see a different doctor than the one who originally prescribed antibiotics for my virus. After reviewing what I told him, this doctor decided that the gastroenterologist at home was mistaken, and instead of the tests my doctor wanted preformed, I would instead be receiving an ultrasound of my gallbladder in order to rule out gallbladder disease.

Normally, I wouldn’t mind such a simple deviation from the plan, but the fact that he completely ignored everything I had said and just made his own plan, I was a little upset. Additionally, getting an ultrasound required getting an appointment somewhere in the city, taking the bus, getting copies of the exam, bringing them back the next day and hoping the doctor would read them and find the problem.

The last straw had been reached and broken. After consulting several students and family members and doctors, it was decided I would fly to Miami to see a real doctor and be treated in a real hospital. I booked the tickets, got my walking papers from the university saying I would be missing a few days and left the next morning.

My mom met me in Miami and we went to the nearest recommended hospital where we were met by a GI specialist recommended by my doctor from Milwaukee. He admitted me to the hospital and ordered a series of tests designed to test my mental stamina. Well, actually, I had to drink the contrast for an abdominal CT, which was horrible, and then prepare myself for an upper-endoscopy the next morning, all while knowing I had not moved my bowels in ten days. Needless to say, I wasn’t feeling well at this point.

The CT went well and the contrast worked miracles on my slow-moving intestines, increasing their secretion and moving fluid very quickly from one end to the other. This adequately prepared me for the new experience in the morning. The endoscopy was pleasant; I don’t remember a thing.

But, as a result of my slow moving bowels and the lack of information from the blood tests and a negative scope and cat-scan, I was given a wonderful medication called magnesium citrate. This works to essentially remove everything from your insides. I can say that after two doses, I was lucky to have insides left!

Unfortunately, after all this work, the doctors in Miami did not understand the fact that I did not live in Miami and needed to get back to school at some point. After arriving on a Wednesday and having my round of exams, they wanted me to leave the hospital on Saturday and come back on Monday for another procedure. I explained that I didn’t exactly have that luxury; they just suggested I spend Sunday in the hospital and have the exam on Monday anyway.

My mother and I had hit another last straw. We decided to head to Milwaukee to be treated by doctors who knew me and would be willing to help. Sadly, this was on the same day that I was still working out the magnesium citrate, and it was still working. It was an airplane ride that I am not interested in remembering!

After returning to Milwaukee, I saw my GI specialist and he recommended that I have what would come to be my most fun procedure yet: a colonoscopy. The truth is that I have absolutely no memory of the procedure (but the pictures from inside my bowels are pretty sweet), but I have a complete and horrible memory of taking the Fleet’s phospho-soda the night before and preparing my body for the procedure. The Fleet’s works about ten times better than the magnesium citrate and it works a lot faster. I was in some pure agony about twelve hours; then I got my versed on the table and was out. My next memory is of my dad asking if I thought I could walk to the car.

After all these tests and all these doctors, no one had found anything. It was suggested I head back to school with some new medications and tough it out until the end of the semester. Since there were only two months left, I thought that it shouldn’t be too hard and that I would be able to handle the regimen of medication and get through it.

What a foolish thought.

Part II: The Downtown Medical Centre

2006-12-18T10:45:00.000-06:00

When we last parted ways, I was recovering well from a viral or bacterial infection in my throat. The good news is that, in Grenada, we don't need no stinkin ' lab tests to determine the actual nature of the illness, we just indiscriminately treat with antibiotics. I'm sure that my local intestinal flora and fauna were thrilled with that decision.

Medically, after recovering from this illness, I was doing pretty well. I was enjoying, as much as could be expected, my second term at medical school. This current term has a more interesting schedule than would be considered common for most university students. We take Neuroscience and Physiology for the entire semester, one lecture of each of these classes per day. Additionally, for the first three weeks of classes, we took Genetics. This entailed two lectures of per day. We then took the final exam in genetics and are officially the world's most knowledgeable geneticists, or something like that.

We swiftly (as in, the morning after our genetics final) transitioned into Immunology. So, at that point, we were taking Immunology, Neuroscience and Physiology, one lecture in each class per day. We were lucky enough to finish Immunology on Monday of this week with our final exam. This of course transitioned smoothly into Parasitology, a class in which I had my first two lectures this morning. We will finish Parasites in three weeks and then have a week of solely Neuro and Physio as we prepare for their respective final exams.

One could assume that this has been an interesting schedule to follow. Rest assured, we have also continued to randomly have Clinical Skills this term, and they have continued to impress, canceling lectures without informing the student body and demanding written reports of cases that they have, in fact, already written for us. It's been great!

So, during all of this greatness, I began noticing some problems with my digestive tract. Specifically, I was becoming increasingly nauseous, both during the day and during the night. I would wake up at night and feel like throwing up, but nothing would ever happen. It was like being stuck in the worst hangover, without a headache, just totally unable to eat. In fact, when I felt hungry and tried to eat, it just made things worse. It felt as though my entire intestinal system was rebelling against me and there was nothing I could do about it.

After several weeks of increasingly bad symptoms and the lack of any sort of recovery, I, along with the help of my friends, decided it was time for action. Instead of visiting the on-campus clinic, I would make my way to the Downtown Medical Centre and see a competent doctor there; someone who could order blood tests or x-rays or general medical things and get me back on my feet.

And so, on a Wednesday, I called the clinic and scheduled an appointment with Dr. Friday, for Friday. Already I was feeling better. It was almost as though I couldn't lose with this sort of luck, having a doctor named after one of the best days of the week. I even called back on Friday morning to confirm said appointment:

- "Hi, my name is Patrick and I'm calling to confirm my appointment with Dr. Friday this afternoon."
- "No problem, just come on in."
- "So, the doctor is there seeing patients right now?"
- "Yes, and you are on the schedule."

It's as though all my cares were vanishing in the wind. Only one problem remained.

- "So, where are you located?"
- "Well, do you know the market hill? Near the big hill road?"
- "Oh, of course, are there any other landmarks you can give me?"
- "Sure, it's down the block from the jewelers."

I can already tell that this is going to go well. So, Andy (who has graciously agreed to drive me, while using Angie's car) and I hop into the car and attempt to navigate our way downtown. In Grenada, there are only about three named streets, and everything else is just by landmark. To get downtown, one must follow the Main Road around the Carenage and through the Tunnel. Well, we managed to find the tunnel on the second pass of a one-street, going behind a grocery store and through an alley. Fortunately, the one-way tunnel took us right into the heart of St. George's and we were able to drive straight through the entire city center without once seeing the Downtown Medical Center.

Finally, we found it. It was located on a hill (big surprise), right next to the huge outdoor vegetable market (another amazing discovery). The big problem at this point was that there were no places to park. So, after all the work we put into actually finding the place, we decided to drive back out around the Carenage (leaving town by about two miles) and catching the Reggae bus back downtown. All the while, of course, I was feeling sick and the two of us should have been studying for the neuroscience midterm we were due to take the following Monday.

Finally, we were able to find the clinic and entered through a non-descript door on the second floor. I walked to the receptionist, said I was there to see Dr. Friday, gave my name, and she politely told us to have a seat while waited. This was at approximately 2.00pm. Finally, around 2.45, she said, "Are you hear to see Dr. Friday?" Almost speechless, I responded, "Yes, I had an appointment."

"Oh," she replied, "Well, the doctor isn't here right now, but he should be back at 3.15." I seriously thought I was going to have a heart attack while sitting in the waiting room - and I was there for my stomach! Andy and I briefly conferred and we decided since it had been so much work getting down there that we would stick it out and wait until the doctor arrived.

As 3.15 turned to 3.45, the receptionist thought it would be a good idea to ask another pertinent question, specifically, "Are you here for medical treatment?"
- Wait, what? "Yes, I'm here to the doctor."
- "So, you need medical attention, is that why you're here?

Oh my God. "Yes, I am here to see the doctor about a medical condition." For those of you who haven't been to Grenada, this might seem confusing. Wait, this is confusing. What the hell was she saying?
- "Oh, OK. Well, he still isn't here, but it should be soon. Can you please fill out this card indicating your contact information and why you are here?"

Again, Andy and I decided that we would wait slightly longer to see what would happen. Finally, a doctor walked through the door and went into his examination room. I asked the receptionist how long she thought it would be before I got to see him (keeping in mind that we still had our neuroscience midterm the following Monday). She replied that although he indeed was a doctor, he was actually the dermatologist and would be seeing all the other patients in the waiting room before me. If I still wanted, I could pay the fee and see him after he was finished with everyone else in front of us.

It was at this point that we decided it was time go! We took the reggae bus back to the car and headed back to campus, having accomplished nothing but frustration during the entire afternoon and falling further behind on our studying. Welcome to Grenadian health care.

Part I: The Virus and The School Clinic.

2006-10-27T15:27:00.000-05:00

This is a picture of 'Happy Patrick'. How did he get such a picture with Mama Meloy, yet still manage to be enrolled in classes at St. George's University? This is an excellent question. A question that will require some explanantion, but starts all the way back in August, with the onset of a severe throat virus.

I am not a person who overreacts when I catch a cold/virus/infection or what-have-you. I tend to take my lumps, as it were, and try to ride out the storm until I feel better. I have rarely been known to complain about ailments, and even tried to convince my parents not to take me to the hospital after I had fallen 20 feet out of tree and fainted from the force of oxygen being expelled from my lungs.

This being true, after I contracted this virus, I was not overtly concerned; that is, until it did not leave my system. I said to myself, "Self, you're in medical school (see former posts for an explanation). Why don't you go to the clinic at said medical school and get some treatment for this sore throat. Perhaps you can use your superior anatomy and diagnostic skills to check your throat in the mirror to see if it is something more serious."

Well, myself did just that, and noticed (along with my always competent roommates Andy and Jeff) that there were some serious spots located on the 'hangy downy thingie' in the back of my throat. Except, using my anatomical knowledge, I said "Whoa, Patrick, there are some serious spots on your hangy downy thingie!" My roommates immediately noticed the same and it was then decided; I would head to the clinic in the morning.

Not having been to the clinic previously, I solicited advice from my fellow classmates who had been sick in previous time on the rock. Ruby had previously been sick, what did she have to say? Well, it turns out that Ruby had contracted a stomach ailment in her first term at school. This entailed the constant emptying of her stomach contents in a manner that was not compatible to eating, drinking or living in general, for almost an entire week. Dragged to the clinic by her good friends Judy and Nick, she was told by the physician extender (read: not a physician) to go home, drink some Gatorade, and she would feel better. Nick and Judy are no slouches, they demanded an IV, fluids, medication, and the gentleman staffing the clinic actually laughed. Ruby would not be getting any other treatment than his sound advice today; it was, after all, Saturday!

Ruby doesn't actually remember this conversation as she was completely asleep in the examining room while her friends pleaded for mercy from the controller of the fluids. Nope, they then had to drag poor Ruby back across campus to her room where the force-fed her Gatorade and water until she finally felt better a few days later. Now, having worked in an emergency department, I understand that sometimes a patient needs to spend some time in bed with a good book and some soup, but after a week of that treatment, one wonders about getting some actual medical attention. Not that Ruby would know; she was too exhausted!

So, I was slightly concerned that I would not be taken seriously with my sore throat, of all things. But, I headed over to the clinic looking like a vagabond in order to get a little better attention (you think I learned nothing from St. Mike's?). The clinic on campus is staffed by some fairly special doctors. It's possible they went to school in Grenada, hopefully not BMSU, but one never can tell around here. Anyway, I walked into the clinic, filled out a form, and began my wait.

And did I wait. I waited for over two hours to be seen for my throat. The nurse took my vitals in a room down the hall, and then sat me outside of different room, where I waited again. But, since I had gone to get my vitals and thought I was next, I now had lost my reading privileges when I left the year old issue of Esquire in the other waiting room. Damnation! After some more waiting, finally, I was to be seen next by the doctor.

Despite not being someone who gets bent out of shape when I get sick, I am always nervous and conscious of strep-throat, which I seem to have more often than the average population of humans. This being true, I went in with some expectations of what would happen: the doctor would do a quick physical exam and culture my throat, but then prescribe some penicillin and I would go to the pharmacy and in about 24 hours, would miraculously feel 100% better.

This is not precisely what happened. Despite the very technical exam I had performed the night before with my roommates, discovering the infection on my uvula (and you thought I didn't learn anything last term!), the doctor said she did not see anything. Well, after almost making me gag several times, she decided not to do a throat culture. As I would later discover, they never do a throat culture in Grenada. There simply are not the resources to carry out said operation. So, she continued to explain, "I don't see anything in your throat at all. It does look a little red, so I'm going to prescribe an antibiotic for your infection, even though I don't see anything. Actually, I think it's viral as there has been something going around campus."

- "It's viral? Then why are you prescribing something?"
- "I am just protecting you in case it is a bacterial infection. So you won't have to come back if it doesn't go away on just fluids and rest."

Well, seeing as I can't argue with that, I go get my prescription filled, begin taking the antibiotic and wait to feel better. Over a week later, after I had finished the entire course of antibiotics, I began to recover from this illness. The remedy provided by the clinic had done nothing more than contribute to the ever-growing population of antibiotic resistant bacteria causing so many problems in the world. I'm so glad I was able to be a part of this trend!

"What is the moral of this story?" one might ask. Well, this lays the groundwork for an even more fun trip to the clinic, both at school and in downtown St. George's, and even a trip to Miami! If you thought that the lack of knowledge was impressive here, than you'll have to wait to be amazed.

In other news, I am in the process of posting a TON more pictures. They are all available under the My Photos link to the right of this page. Also, I added some new and interesting features to the blog recently. If you look on the right side and scroll down to the button marked Geo-Visitors, you can click to see where in the world people have clicked onto the blog. It is pretty interesting to see visitors from Japan, the UK, South America and all over the states who are reading the posts. You can also see some of the other blogs that I like to read when I am postponing my studying.

Finally, I must apologize for the lack of material, so far, this term. It will all come out in the coming few weeks with the telling of my medical story, so don't give up on me. I finally finished all my midterms today, despite being well-past the actual mid-point of the semester, which factors into my lack of writing ability.

Grenada: 2, Patrick:0.

2006-08-22T07:23:00.000-05:00

In the game of life, I am definitely not on the winning team. I have wished for years and years that somehow I would be drafted or traded; maybe I could try-out again for a new team; maybe I could somehow audition for a different group; maybe anything would change the ridiculous stream of bad situations in which I always seem to find myself.

You’re saying to yourself, ‘Patrick, why do you even try any longer? You are definitely not allowed to even have thoughts of grandeur as your past experiences should clearly dictate your future responses.’ Well, I won’t lie; I was feeling moderately confident that things would go well for me during my most recent excursion to the lovely, hot, humid and painfully Caribbean island of Grenada.

Grenada scored the first point on 13 August 2006. This occurred in multiple forms. It began on 9 August 2006, when a group of terrorists were arrested for the idea of bombing multiple airplanes with liquid explosives. This would normally not affect me in any way; however, as I was planning on taking multiple plane flights the following Sunday, things were about to get a little interesting.

As always, I am required to fly on the ever-fabulous, ever-service oriented, ever-helpful American Airlines. This sad state of affairs is only compounded by the fact that I was not even able to check my luggage all the way to Grenada. In practical terms, this means that every time I disembark from a plane throughout my journey, I will need to collect my luggage and re-check it at the ticket counter. And so, at 3.00am, it began.

Flying out of O’Hare is, for me, a pleasant experience. I have been through the security checkpoints in many occasions and have yet to encounter a problem in any form. Today would be no different. I breezed through in about five minutes as Madeline, Maggie and Mom watched me remove my shoes but keep my chap-stick a mystery. (Although I was previously informed by a supremely helpful American Airlines agent that my chap-stick would be confiscated by security personnel, this threat never materialized and I was able to circumvent the metal detector and x-ray machine with contraband on my person. Who knew lip-balm would one day bring down society as we know it?)

Unfortunately, things took a turn for the worse when the plane sat on the runway for an extra 30 minutes. This was explained by the captain as a ‘simple computer error in which we have to manually reenter the flight information as it was lost when we transferred from an external power source to an internal power source’. Oh right, because that sounds completely benign. Nothing to see here folks, just a computer crash right before we leave the gate.

Finally, we leave Chicago for the friendly confines of San Juan. Can you even imagine a better place on Earth? Actually, I can and have, and on my current trip, I would even wish for the complete destruction of the entire island. As a result of the lateness of my American Airline experience, I was cutting it fairly close for the next flight of the day. Scheduled to leave Puerto Rico at 2.05 en route to St. Vincent, I needed to literally RUN from the baggage claim, up the stairs and back into the ticketing area, where I would hopefully find the CaribbeanSun airline counter.

Interesting enough, San Juan is quite possibly the busiest airport I have ever seen. There were more people, in more different lines, for more different airlines, with the most luggage, I have ever seen. It was absolute chaos. When I finally got the counter for CaribbeanSun, despite being over an hour early for my flight, I was politely informed that, “I won’t be checking you in for your flight; you’re too late.”

Well, thought I, that’s very interesting, as I have another flight waiting for me in St. Vincent that will take me to my final destination. “Excuse me? I’m here on time. I need you to check me in so I can make my next flight and get to Grenada.”

- “I’m sorry, sir, there is no possible way you will be leaving Puerto Rico tonight. The security lines are four hours long.”

Whoa. Now that changes everything. I really have to leave Puerto Rico in the next few hours. It’s possible I became less cordial at this point. “Is there any way you can get me through security more quickly? I know you sent a few people in front of me through to the head of the line, how about one more?”

- “Sir, you must be mistaken. I did not go with them through security; there is no way to avoid the line.”

- “I know you did not go with them, but I watched you print their tickets and then have them run with a different agent right to the front. I literally watched it happen.”

- “Sir, I need you to step out of the line so I can help the next person. When I am finished with everyone I will speak with you about your situation, but there is no way you will be getting on the flight to St. Vincent.”

So, a fun time was had by all. I dutifully moved to the side and watched and listened as she did the exact same thing to the next ten people in line, leaving a large group of us completely stranded in San Juan. After it become perfectly clear that we would not be receiving any assistance from the CaribbeanSun people until after they had finished with whatever useless paper-work they were completing, I thought I would head over the American Airline counter to complain about them being late and me missing my flight.

- “Sir, I show that the flight was only twenty minutes late. That sounds fairly normal to me. Weren’t you expecting something like this to happen?”

- “No, I was hoping the plane would be on time so that I could actually get to my subsequent flight.”

- “Well, I’m afraid I can’t help you since we were actually within what could be considered a normal amount of time. You should have left yourself more time between flights.”

Right, because I needed you to advise me on how to plan for my next flight to be late. I’m sure when I head back to the CaribbeanSun counter, the supervisor there (who we were told would be arriving around 4.30) would be more helpful.

- “I’m surprised you all missed the same flight. When I fly with my wife, she always complains, but I tell her, ‘We need to arrive four hours early for our flights because there are bound to be problems’,” he explained to all of the stranded passengers.

Oh, I needed to be lectured by both of the agents with whom I had spoken. Thank goodness I wouldn’t be leaving San Juan without a massive dose of new information. Also, I’ve never flown before, so I really needed all this help on how to get from one airport to another without problems.

After informing us of our ridiculous mistakes, the supervisor left and again left us without even a representative at the counter. Finally, around 7.00pm, an agent arrived with good news. She was going to give us food coupons and work on our situation while we all ate. Now we were starting to get somewhere. As she explained, and I am not making this up, “My manager is an a-hole and so I am just going to send you away for food and help you since he won’t.”

Rock on, sister. As she worked, we ate airport food and contemplated our current fates. I made friends with a potential roommate for the night in San Juan and we headed back to the counter. Since we had left, one good thing had transpired. Debernise, my new favorite employee of CaribbeanSun, had convinced the powers-that-be to schedule a new flight at 9.00am for those of us who were stuck. “Hopefully,” she said to me, “they can correct your ticket in S. Vincent, and you will be able to make the same flight, but just a day later.” I’m happy with that, so can I have my hotel-voucher now?

Not so much. Although the airline is going to get us to St. Vincent, they are not feeling particularly responsible for our overnight situation. Well, it’s off to the hotel with a friendly 4^th-term student named Michelle, with whom I will share the outrageous bill of $160 for a double-room, except for the fact that they are completely out of twin-beds, so we will receive a queen-size for the same price. Being the gentleman you have come to know and love, I volunteer to sleep on the floor, until we get to the room to see that there is not actually enough floor-space to store my luggage. We both completely passed out on the bed around 10.00pm as, for us, the day had actually begun around 3.00am.

Point: Grenada.

With a wake-up call scheduled for 4.30am, we were in line as soon as the counter opened at 5.00. There was no earthly way we were missing the next flight. Ironically (but not really), there was no one in the entire airport. We spent five minutes going through security, where, they opened everyone’s bags and we discovered why things were taking so long on the previous day. They basically used the x-ray machines to determine that everything was contraband and wanted to check everything. However, I again managed to get my chap-stick into the gate areas.

Though our 9.00am flight was delayed about 30 minutes, we managed to safely arrive in St. Vincent around 1.00pm, and, our luggage made it with us. Things were starting to look up, and I was feeling more and more confident. That feeling lasted about as long as it took me to find an agent for CaribbeanStar (for some reason, they change names, despite being the same company).

As helpful as American Airlines, the agent informed me that it was again my fault that I missed the flight the day before, and why did I think that they were supposed to help me? Hmmm, something called corporate responsibility? Apparently that doesn’t exist south of Florida. So, despite some serious haggling with the agents and supervisors of multiple airlines, I was offered a ticket from St. Vincent to St. Lucia to Barbados to Grenada. I would hopefully arrive in Grenada by approximately 8.00pm.

At this point, I have exhausted my options; I’ve taken names without prisoners; I’ve lost my will to live, but I still have my luggage. “Fine, I’ll take the ticket since it will be guaranteed seating and I don’t think my stomach can handle the sound of a ‘standby’ ticket.”

- “OK, the total is $250.00”

- “U.S.?!?” Holy Shit! “Are you sure you added it correctly? What does that come out to in U.S.?”

- “Sir, that is in U.S. dollars. Airline travel isn’t cheap.”

Oh, ha-ha, you’re so funny. Wait until I come back in my next life as a terrorist. You think I’m going to attack the United States – think again chief. So, I pony-up the money and am handed my legitimate ticket to Grenada. Michelle and I (the rest of the plane’s final stop was actually St. Vincent, so they are happy to be on solid ground at this point) head to the restaurant for some food and then immediately to the gate so that we will not be late for our next flight, and we wait.

And wait. And wait. Finally, a full hour after it was supposed to leave the island, we are called to the door. At this point I think a brief description of the St. Vincent airport is required. Imagine you are standing in your garage at home. Now, imagine that your garage is hot, the air-conditioner is broken and dripping on the seats in the ‘lounge’ and there are three regular-sized doors looking out into your driveway where your garage-door used to be. You are now in the St. Vincent airport.

So, we get on the plane, take our 25-minute flight to St. Lucia and then take another 45-minute flight to Barbados. Since our flight was so late, we have to run from the arriving gate to the departing gate, but we make it with over an hour to spare. How were we so efficient? Our luggage was checked all the way through. We sat with baited breath with anticipation for our next flight and our final destination. Karma be damned, I’m getting to Grenada tonight!

Finally, around 9.00pm (fully two hours after we were supposed to take-off), a CaribbeanStar plane lands and we are called to the gate for our boarding. But, the passengers are being unloaded for the plane as we watch! An agent comes out and informs everyone that there are mechanical difficulties and they do not know how long it is going to take to be fixed. I have a feeling that things were about to get ugly between myself and some of the airline personnel, but, fortunately, the issue is almost immediately resolved and we head rapidly to the plane.

I can honestly say I never thought I would actually be happy and relieved to be in Grenada, but I truly was. I was feeling good about life, ready to get a shower, change into some nice clean clothes and have a restful sleep, as classes begin the next morning at 8.00am. But, at around 10.00pm, when they finished pulling all the luggage off the plane, I had an epiphany: Guns are not allowed on airlines because passengers would shoot the baggage personnel when they arrived without luggage at their final destination! I can’t even begin to describe the emotional response I was having at that moment, but I am pretty certain that if I were any older, the potential for cardiac problems definitely would have presented itself at that moment.

Point: Grenada.

I have, at this point, fully recovered my luggage and my good-nature has been restored to the point that I can tolerate the word airport, but I don’t think now is a good time to be pushing the issue. All of the above events took place within a 42-hour window on the 13^th and 14^th of August, beginning at 3.00 on Sunday, ending on Monday. Classes actually began Tuesday morning at 8.00am, and I’ll be damned it I wasn’t there despite not having had a pillow the night before!

My apologies for the length of this horrible story, but if it didn’t get told in one piece, I don’t believe anyone, me included, could actually appreciate the significance of the events that took place. Cheers to Debernise, for without whom I would not have eaten on the previous Sunday.

No Summer School.

2006-07-07T15:43:00.000-05:00

As a 'blog snob' (someone who only reads active blogs) myself, I can appreciate when people complain about blogs not being updated frequently enough. In my defense, my writing was originally designed to be an account of my life at school. In deference to the people who have nothing better to do than read my ramblings, however, I present the first-ever Bob Marley State University 'Top Ten List'. The theme of this top ten will be the best quotations in the last six months. Without any further ado:

1. "Dude, did I take that class?" - Dr. Dick. Immediately after walking out of arguably one of the hardest exams I've ever taken (Medical Biochemistry), one of my friends was quite legitimately concerned. To his credit, one of the questions asked about lobster tails. If that has something completely relevant to my future career, I'm going to the wrong classes, too!

2. "God, I wish I was Jewish!" - Andrew "Daddy" Hutchens III. Poor Andy. His name got him into some trouble early on in the semester. The registration clerk refused to give him his ID-card until he actually said "the third" after his name. She asked him multiple times if he "went by any other names" until he finally understood what she meant. Just another example of "Island Confusion" (i.e., being Grenadian). To add insult to injury, Andy's name isn't Jewish, and so he lacks the ability to attract favor in the eyes of a certain attractive co-ed.

3. "Michael, are you sexually active?" - Dr. Rooney, Clinical Skills Professor. As though I didn't like this department enough, this professor was proving to us the benefit of private conversations as he shouted this question across an entire lecture hall. The gentleman in question declined to answer, but was appropriately mortified for a few days.

4. "The Superior Cervical Ganglion. This is the big one. This is the last stop on a highway for the next 150 miles. Always packed, dirty seat." - Dr. Goodmurphy. Describing the major collection of nerve-cell bodies located in the neck, Dr. Goodmurphy used a particularly descriptive metaphor. Surprisingly, very few students laughed aloud, with the notable exception of me and a friend who sat next to me. We were practically crying while everyone else sat stone-faced in the lecture.

5. "Enzymes are a lot like my car. I know that when I turn it on and press the gas pedal, it goes forward, but I couldn't build my own engine." - Dr. Trotz. This is clearly a lie. Why? Because Dr. Trotz is direct from Germany, and everyone knows that all Germans could build a nuclear sub in three days if it were necessary. If you can imagine this statement being said with a thick German accent in broken English, you get the picture. Dr. Trotz also brought us such gems as, "Some people think I like smelling urine, but that is not the case," when describing the different urine diseases in biochemistry, and, "Imagine my arms are lipoproteinlipase and I am floating in a river of ice cream," while wildly waving her arms, yet not changing the intonations of her voice!

6. "There are three qualities to any 'official' Grenadian event: One, there must be huge banners promoting the only two cell-phone companies on the island, Digicell and Cable&Wireless, both of which are terrible. Two, there must be barbeque chicken and pork. This is true for things such as dodge ball tournaments, talent shows and back-sales to Easter Sunday, May Day and concerts. Three, there must be Carib beer everywhere. This is actually true of everything, including, I think, some church services." - I myself coined this trio and am quite certain it applies to every single extra-curricular event I attended throughout the entire semester. Without those three qualities, your event is doomed to failure!

7. "Dude, when you say Fall; there's no f-ing Fall. There is only Hot and Wet." This is Andy again, describing the only two seasons which occur in Grenada. This is actually true, and I have yet to experience a 'wet season', but know that it started in July.

Upon further review, there are only seven quotes in my current 'Top Ten'. Oh well, its called the 'BMSU Top Ten', and does anyone actually think Bob Marley himself could count to ten? Of course not.

Finally, a picture of the last patient to walk out of the Emergency Department at St. Michael Hospital. He was running, jumped over a fence and didn't quite make it. I won't go into further detail, but briefly mulling this over in your mind will give you an accurate description of what we were treating him for. And because it is interesting, he got one of our free sandwiches and did not have insurance. Oh, St. Mike's, how we will miss you!

Starting Over?

2006-05-17T11:17:00.000-05:00

I am writing this at approximately 36,000 feet above sea-level. Local time is now 9:13pm. Where is local time, you ask? Good question, it is located just outside of the city of Miami, Florida. Well, that is a little strange, considering I live in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, which is nowhere near Florida. It is especially strange when one considers that my travel plans did not remotely include Florida. The closest I was to be to Florida was actually San Juan, Puerto Rico. In fact, I was due to land in Chicago at 5:46pm (local time).

OK, I’ll admit I have been remiss in writing about the exciting things that have happened since exams ended on Friday. I will get to those in a future entry (with pictures), which include crab-racing and snorkeling and Cuban cigars and Carib, but first, my travels.

They began this morning around 5:03am. This is when I woke up in order to get my ride to the airport. My itinerary was simple: Grenada to San Juan, San Juan to Chicago. What transpired was anything but. As the last three people in line at Grenada’s ever-bustling international thoroughfare, my two friends and I were informed that we would be placed on standby, ostensibly due to weight restrictions. I was thinking that I had slimmed down a little over the semester, what with the healthiness of the rotis and tuna fish I had been consuming. It turns out, this is what American Airlines says when they want to shift the blame for screwing me over.

So, what really happened? They overbooked the flight. It seems that the vet-students at SGU, who just elevated themselves to the level of the Clinical Skills department, just camp out at the airport overnight with their pets. They have multiple pets, which aren’t allowed, but they do get to bump people from the flights the next day to earn space for their pets. I still don’t understand how it works, but I can say with certainty that the vet-school is not yet accredited, so, joke’s on them.

Now, its AA’s turn to do something really stupid. As we wait for the gate-attendant to determine the remaining seats on board, she radios the cockpit for a final tally. It’s music to my ears as I hear them radio back that there is one extra seat. The fabulous woman has found extra room! I still get to leave!

Haha, just kidding. I don’t get to leave. The attendant on the plane radios back, while we are still standing there waiting for seats on the 7:30am flight, and, I swear to God, says “No, we are going to stick with our on-time departure and leave the extra seat OPEN.” I know it sounds like I am making that up, but it is verbatim from the radio she was using. It was one of the most surreal experiences I have ever had. To the credit of the woman working at the airport, she argued with him and he flatly refused to reopen the doors. So, we were stuck.

It is at this point I would like to refresh everyone’s memory of Barbados International Airport. This is where I spent 12 hours waiting for a flight the next morning, in the open air. So, one can guess where I was about to be “involuntarily redirected”, according to my new flight plan. The three of us were now routed through Barbados, to Miami, and to our various final destinations. What could be better than a new flight plan? That’s right kids, a six hour layover in the Barbados International (and still open-air) Airport, where it was raining.

So, I ended up in Barbados, with one healthy friend and one who has developed some severe intestinal-difficulties, as it were. After six uneventful hours of sleeping on the ground (in an open-air airport, with occasional rain), we were allowed to re-check our bags (traveling from Grenada to Barbados is international so we needed to go through customs for the second time that morning), and finally board our flight to Miami. This was, surprisingly, uneventful, despite the increasingly powerful nature of the aforementioned intestinal difficulties.

When we get to Miami, we only have to wait about twenty minutes for our gate to open, as we were early and seemingly punished for that fact. It was then onto customs, again, which was starting to become fun and enjoyable, and by fun and enjoyable, I mean excruciatingly painful. And all this leaves me 36,000 feet over the good ole’ USA, on my way to Chicago, where I am happy to be at this point.

I’ve compiled a list of fun facts that I’d like to share regarding my day, fashioned after the Harper’s Index:

- Number of dogs currently barking in the seat directly behind me: 1.

- Number of babies who cry every time the dog barks: 2.

- Number of times I have been gone through security checkpoints and needed to remove my laptop from my backpack: 4.

- Number of different customs agents with whom I have interacted today: 7.

- Number of conversations I’ve had with family members who were planning on picking me up around 6:00pm in Chicago: 0.

- Ability of my cell-phone working to assist in said conversations: 0%.

- Number of times I’d like to use the phrase “as it were” in this post (including this instance, as it were): 4.

- Flights that included a meal on my original itinerary: 2.

- Flights that included a meal on my “involuntary redirect”: 0.

- Flights on redirect that had snacks available for purchase: 1, and finally,

- Number of times I have needed to respectively collect and re-check my luggage: 4, 4 (but I’m hoping against hope that there is a fifth collection, i.e., in Chicago).

Once I get the pictures sorted, there will be dodge-ball, crab-racing, snorkeling home-cooked dinner at the professor’s house and other fun things, but right now I have decide whether to watch another crappy episode of Two and a Half Men or contemplate ways to end the dog’s misery (and by end, I mean put beyond the ability of the vet-students, as it were).

Some of the Facial Nerves!

2006-04-28T22:40:00.000-05:00

(Countdowns: Class Days - 2, Days until last exam - 14, Days to leave the island - 18).

To be quite honest, not too much has taken place since the last time I've written. Things have bogged down here at "Bob Marley State University" (as some have taken to calling SGU), and to illustrate the bogging down, I posted a picture of one of the many schematics on which I will be tested in the coming weeks. It was drawn on one of the chalkboards in the anatomy lab the other day by a woman who is now infamous around school as everyone I know has a copy of the schematic. (Don't tell her it's now on the internet!)

The good news, however, is that tomorrow is Saturday, meaning I (along with three friends) am going to have a home-cooked meal at one of our professor's homes. I'm reasonably excited about this, and it becomes all the more exciting when we found out that he is leaving after this semester to teach anatomy at a different medical school. Being one of our favorite teachers, had we known this prior to the auction (See previous post), there is no way we could have afforded the meal! Hopefully there will be some good pictures after the apple-pie, lobster bisque, steak and other good things that will be consumed.

I have also posted some pictures from golfing the other weekend, and they can be found in the "Golf Outing" under "My Pictures" to the right of the page. In the "three stooges" picture, you can see Andy (left) and Jeff (right), and the three of us will be roommates in the coming semester.

We went out to dinner for Easter (since we did not get an Easter Break, we though we should celebrate). So, we went to the Beach House, which is one of the nicer restaurants on the island. It was an excellent meal, and we happened to be seated next to the Dean of Students. He was having a great time with his wife, a number of students and some professors, and decided to buy our table a drink, too! So, of course we had to get a picture with the good doctor and his wife. (Interestingly enough, they have been at SGU since it was founded.) I have posted the pictures of that dinner as well.

Finally, after briefly watching some of the semi-annual "Four v. Four - Basketball Court Soccer Tournament", I have an observation (heavily researched) of life in Grenada. In order to have an event be official, there must be four things involved:
- First, there will be barbeque (chicken, pork, ribs, you name it).
- Second, there has to be a beet tent with "Carib" written all over it (and Carib must be offered along with Carlsberg and Smirnoff Ice - I have no explanation for the third choice).
- Third, there must be loud and obnoxiously angry reggae music playing.
- Fourth, and I'm convinced this step is crucial, there need to be Digicel (and oftentimes Cable and Wireless) banners all over the place. These are the two cell-phone services on the island and they are selling phones and plans at every opportunity!

Enjoy the pictures and make sure to avoid infections in the "danger areas" of the scalp and face (which can be found in the loose connective tissue of the scalp and the angle of the nose, respectively).

Championship Weekend

2006-04-12T22:42:00.000-05:00

(Countdowns: Class days - 12, Days until last exam - 29, Days to leave the island - 33)

In defense of the countdowns, it's not that I particularly do not like it here; it's more that I'm not home. It definitely begins to take a toll on one's abilities when one is missing the comforts of home, e.g., a couch, your own bed, home-cooked meals, the Masters on t.v., etc. Down here, the rut of daily living is just incredible.

The good news? That all changed on Friday night. For some reason, this weekend was a hyped weekend here at SGU. Perhaps the other terms were finishing up an exam, getting ready for the next topic, or whatever, I'm not quite sure, but there was some excitement to say the least.

Let me begin on Friday (7 April) evening. An evening like any other, until the beginning of the semi-annual "SGU Dodgeball Tournament". You heard correctly, dodgeball. Not only that, but this was billed as the "Biggest Tournament of the Semester!" I'm not so sure I can attest to that, having only been here for (almost) one semester, but it was mildly impressive to say the least. After receiving all the entries (at least 2o teams), it was go time on the basketball courts.

To briefly explain, our basketball courts are almost completely surrounded by a high fence in order to prevent the loss of basketballs to the ocean area. This makes the two side-by-side courts ideal for two separate dodgeball arenas. So, two matches take place at once and the crown goes wild and there is music and barbeque and intensity to rival any other. My team ('Ketone Bodies' - a new biochemistry term about which we all recently learned) was composed exclusively of 1st termers. It turns out, this is a distinct disadvantage!

We drew the popular, and "large", Team Vetch, composed exclusively of veterinary students who are finishing their 3rd year of classes on the island. This means that they are well-versed in the ways of the dodgeball craze currently sweeping the campus. We are about to be overpowered. The good news? We were told the rules appropriately. The bad news? We were told the rules appropriately after the match was over after we complained that we didn't know the rules.

Surprisingly enough, this would come back to haunt us in the end. We had one player left (not me) and they had two. Sadly, they caught one of his throws and it was all over from there. But, it was not without controversy as it turns out the refs (there were four of them - this is serious stuff, people!) were also vet-students. Unfortunately there was nothing we could do at this point. To add insult to injury, it was single-elimination. So, after a glorious, but short, effort, we were off to the dorms and more studying. But, now that we have experienced the phenomenon, we will be back with a vengeance like no other in our 2nd term. And we will probably have better head-bands next time (the store only had plain-old red/black, and, yes, we wore them with pride).

For our second championship of the weekend, I would like to congratulate the UW for now owning both the men's and women's NCAA hockey titles. How I could have possibly missed the party in Milwaukee is beyond me, but I suppose that is some punishment for something I've done in the past.

Our third championship took place on Sunday. Although many of you are thinking, The Masters, you would be mistaken. I am referring to the 'First Annual SGU Golf Tournament'. That is correct, there is a nine-hole course on the island and it’s crazy. At least five holes cross another hole, and some holes have greens in the woods that cannot be seen from anything less than 50 yards away. It was awesome. My future roommates for next term (I'll refer to them anonymously as Andy and Jeff) and I had tee-times for 7.00am. We thought that we were in for a win when everyone else on the bus was reeling from the 80's party the previous night (which we had sadly missed).

Boy were we wrong. On the first hole, we all lost a ball. In our defense, our caddy (a member of the group hosting the fund-raiser) did not even know where to find the tee or the green. In his defense, the tees aren't marked, and the greens aren't either. So, it was a challenge just to get to the tee-box. After the first few holes, we just had him play with us and paid a couple of local kids EC$20 to carry the only bag of clubs we had to share. Some words of advice from our new caddy:
- "You didn't hit it far enough. I told you it was a different club." (When the ball landed short of the green.)
- "I told you to hit it hard enough so it will get to the hole." (When the putts fell short.)
- "You hit it into the woods." (I think you can guess this one.)
- "You are in the sand-trap." (I think you get the point.)

Anyway, it was a great time; we played nine-holes, made some money for the Clinical Research Society and got free lunch. We are more than prepared to play in this outing again next year! And if it weren't for the first hole, we would have been leading the way!

Finally, although this occurred on Tuesday, it was a championship moment. They have an annual professor auction to benefit the local hospital and some professors offer up certain dinners and trips and whatnot to raise money. Four of us got together to buy one of our professor's offers: home-cooked meal by his wife, at their house, of our choice. Last year they had t-bones with lobster bisque, salads, apple pie and ice cream. Think we're excited about this prospect at all? His wife's cooking is apparently famous at the university and this meal usually is the best seller at the annual auction, we are feeling ready at any moment to go knocking on his door.

Anyway, make sure you are eating enough zinc and vitamin B6, otherwise you will never be able to digest your amino acids properly, and this could you some serious problems.

To be a professor . . .

2006-04-04T23:48:00.000-05:00

Today we had a surreal experience. I think it was an island experience, but one cannot be too sure. We have a master schedule detailing when and where all our classes, labs and small-groups (but not Clinical Skills classes!) will be held. Today we were scheduled for four hours of class: two hours of anatomy followed by two hours of embryology.

I know many of you are thinking privately, "Wow. Four hours of class! How exciting is that. Plus, he had anatomy lab this morning and was dissecting poor Newton's head for two additional hours of fun. And, he forgot to mention this, but I knew he was really excited to have gone to see a professor in his office hours before anatomy lab even started to answer at least ten questions that he had and some friends had come up with the night before regarding the COX-I and COX-II pathways in platelets and endothelial cells. I wish I could have a sweet day like that!"

Well, then one can imagine my surprise when after completing only one hour of lecture, our embryology professor decided that he would be "back tomorrow" for the second hour of the urogenital system. Any normal student would be upset just at the thought. Break up the urogenital system? Be still, my heart! I must know now!"

He must know something to which we were not privy. And so, while checking out a skull (we can check out human skulls . . . I know you're jealous!), we asked one of the other embryology professors, "Why the change?" To which he responds, "What change?"
- "On our schedule, we have two hours of embryo today, and none on Wednesday."
- "Not on the schedule on my desk. That's not what it says."
- "Well, when were you going to inform us of the change?"
- "C'mon guys, the schedule on my desk says, 'One Tuesday, one Wednesday and one Thursday.' You should know this!"

To which one of my friends was dying to respond, "But Professor B., when is my flight out of Grenada? I mean, the ticket is on my desk, don't you know? Why didn't you find out?" The thing is, the professor was serious. He genuinely did not understand why we were confused about the whole prospect. After further review, this was most definitely an island experience!

In other news, I was, in fact, a professor myself today. We had a teaching clinic on how to start IVs. I'm particularly proud of my occasional ability to find a vein while working at St. Mike's (and have caused the ordering of pizza and Taco Bell ... you know you did well when the reward was a Mexican Pizza ... on more than one instance from a certain doctor), and so was happy to have the opportunity to teach what I've learned to my fellow students.

It was an interesting experience. I am trying hard to remember how I ever learned how to do something so difficult. Or maybe it just looks difficult the first time. I volunteered myself in order to stick someone (I've been dying since I got here!) and, of course my luck, the guy with the least veins and, ahem....biggest, arms steps forward and volunteers. I found a vein to try, had the group feel it themselves and everyone says, "I don't know, isn't that a little small. I can't see it. Are you sure it's there?"

Oh great, what if I miss trying to demonstrate?? Well, thankfully I got it, but it was definitely a hard-stick. After everyone went through, one observation: Does everyone so timidly start their first IV? They barely got the needle into the skin and then stopped with the entire catheter still sticking out. Was I like that when I first started? All I can remember is not having to use the fake-arm (don't tell my boss) because of my willingness to work the night-shift. To all the arms I must have stuck while learning: "I'm sorry and thank you! I'm so glad to have learned it earlier and not have to learn by trying once a month while in Grenada!"

Taxes at Work.

2006-03-27T09:39:00.000-06:00

Another week down. Actually, it was a fast week. We only had two classes per day, which is something of a dream around here. Unfortunately, that dream ended this morning about as abruptly as the construction next to my room began. In all fairness, it has been going on since we've arrived, but I feel as though they definitely begin earlier and earlier in the morning. I can't complain specifically if it means they will finish on time (actually, they are building a new dormitory in which I hope to live next semester, but it had an original completion date of August 2004. I think Hurricane Ivan had something to say about that.).

But, that does not mean I enjoy hearing the banging and sawing and shouting and whatnot at the exact time of the sunrise each day, which is coincidentally around 6:30 each day. The good news, of course, is that the countdowns have officially begun. I now have only 49 days remaining on the island until I get to leave and enter civilization again. OK, I'm being unfair again. They have a distinct civilization here, just not one to which I was prepared.

Let me elaborate. At our on campus restaurant, Glover's, which is complete with a full bar, among other things (I can't help harping all over that all the time), they very often will let you order and then say, "We're out." To which one often replies, "Oh," and goes back to the menu. After another few minutes, after trying to order again and hearing, "We're out of that," one begins to wonder what they actually have available. Unfortunately, no one who works there is going to volunteer that information so you have to keep ordering until you get it right, or so I used to think.

One of my friends walks up, orders, pays and then meanders off to find the rest of us and relax for a few minutes on a Friday afternoon. After ordering, you just wait until the food appears behind the bar and then you have to judge if it's yours or not, and then go ask and maybe get told, "A few more minutes." So, after fifteen minutes of waiting for his pizza, he heads back up and wonders how much longer?

The lovely woman at the register says (I'm not making this up), "We're out of small pizzas, you can only order large." My friend says, "No you're not. Use a smaller piece of dough."
- Register responds, "I said we were out."
- "And I already ordered and paid. I'll be back in ten minutes."

Lo and behold, it worked. He went back up in ten minutes and his pizza was waiting. I cannot specifically verify the cleanliness of said pizza, but it was a lesson learned for all, i.e., one can get things done around here; it just requires the proper motivation. Of course, try acting like Miss Register in the States and there would be some consequences; in Grenada, this is the norm.

Anyway, in addition to the little tiff with the Glover's staff, there was a little party called Sandblast a week ago. It was a way to blow off some steam from all of the exams that most terms had just finished. It was held on the same beach as the first party, and was in much the same manner. Except this time it was during the day and there was sponsored water activities like wake-boarding, banana boat riding, food, volleyball tournaments, etc. One of the highlights: the professors always line-up for a water-balloon toss from the students, so that was pretty funny to watch.

Another highlight, of which there is a picture above, was a small rainstorm we received in the middle of the day. This is extremely common here, i.e., a downpour for fifteen minutes, and then back to perfect weather (it supposedly doesn't happen in the dry season, read: January through July), but we are proving them wrong on all accounts.

Regardless, it began to rain, so the huge speakers needed to be covered. If one looks closely at the pictures, the phrase "USAID" can be seen, which is what the U.S. writes on anything they send to the 3rd world to help them recover from anything, and which the local medical school is using to cover its speakers during huge parties. A classic irony of which all Americans should be proud . . . and it works for us!

Happy St. Paddy's Day!

2006-03-17T15:06:00.000-06:00

Many of you must be thinking, "Wow, two posts in one day?!?" Its true. In honor of St. Patrick's Day, I've decided to post one of my all time favorite shots. This was taken in 2000 at the beautiful Cliffs of Moher. Enjoy your Guinness, but for the love of all things Irish, do not drink any green beer.

What recovery period?

2006-03-16T22:56:00.000-06:00

We are now 1/16^th on our way to completing medical school. How daunting a prospect is that? Since I officially passed all my midterms, I am now $10,000 smarter than when I started (and just for fun, that makes me worth about EC$26,000. I might just stay here!). And we’ve already dived deeply into the material for the next half of the semester. In fact, the very morning after what could arguably be considered the most stressful week in my educational career (as it determined whether or not I could really continue in school), I was scheduled for my first patient interview at 8.30am.

Now, some of you might be saying to yourselves, “How interesting. I didn’t know you started learning those skills so early in your schooling.” Indeed, it would have been interesting had we received any advanced preparation for this sort of thing. In fact, there was not even an announcement from my favorite department (Clinical Skills) as they simply posted a notice outside one of the lecture halls during the exams. Conveniently, I might add, not the one in which I took all my exams.

Consequently, I found out on Monday evening, after several beers, that I had to be ready to speak to a patient at 8.30am, and was expected to know what to ask and how to review the systems (cardiac, nervous, pulmonary, etc.), and would be graded on this experience.

I found myself feeling rather lucky then, at 8.30am, that I had worked at St. Mike’s for so long. Working with the trifecta affords me the opportunity to literally assist with hundreds a patients each day, learning little bits and pieces of information about what questions are most pertinent to each situation (although, realistically, I am often teaching them, with such nuggets as “point 5 alive!”. I’ll never forget that as long as I live.)

(I’d like to take this moment to welcome the newest addition to the trifecta. You know who you are, and don’t think I haven’t heard about admitting patients to critical care from the NUC.)

Of course, what gets me miffed about the whole situation is the fact that it was 8.30am, basically unannounced, the morning after midterms. I mean, did they realistically expect people not to enjoy themselves a little more liberally that night as there was no new information being presented for the next 24 hours? Get serious, it’s Grenada. I’ve seen more bars here than in Madison. (OK, that’s obviously not true.)

I suppose, as a medical student, I am expected to undergo certain difficulties in order to “prove my worth” or “live through residency”; however, I might point out to those people who take this line that I am not, in fact, a resident, nor am I being judged on my ability to get up at 8.30am, yet. Nonetheless, I guessed correctly. Our patient, a lovely middle-aged woman with abdominal pain, played her part well. As it was our first attempt, it was funny to see us dance around the really painful issues, i.e., her recent sexual history, in order to arrive at the final conclusion of gonorrhea, but we all survived and are just that much better for being in class that morning.

What really bothers me about the whole thing is the fact that they gave us the lecture on patient interviews that afternoon, and then blamed half the class for not showing up (since only about half of us made it to the sessions) on not hearing an announcement, without acknowledging that there was not an announcement in the first place. As they say, you can’t win ‘em all.

Derelict Duties

2006-03-06T21:49:00.000-06:00

It has recently come to my attention that I have not been diligently updating my current situation. This is a result of many factors, not the least of which is my midterm examinations of which I am currently in the middle. To date, sadly, I have not had many exciting experiences, although I did receive an awesome package from members of the trifecta. As we had our biochemistry exam today (I personally believe that is the definition of starting out with a bang), and I got an 'A' (I can't believe that A's are attainable in biochemistry, much less by myself, but I'm intensely proud of it and wanted to share), I thought I would take a little break to talk about the trifecta and how it might affect life at St. Michael.

To start, the trifecta is a collection (oft disputed) of characters on the 2nd shift (or PMs). It usually only presents itself on Mondays, which coincidentally is, anecdotally, the busiest day of the week. Oftentimes, beginning PMs at 3.00pm is not a terrible thing. Day shift has usually done a stellar job stocking the rooms are preparing us for the thousands of patients that will come strolling through the door from 4.00-5.00pm.

This is approximately the same time the trifecta kicks into action. Normally, the charge nurse will take a call from 'Paramedic Base'. Paramedic base is located at Froedtert, and coordinates the pick-up and transport of critically ill patients from their 911 call to what is usually the closest hospital. Since only RN's are allowed to take this call, I will often stand over the shoulder (much to the supreme annoyance, no doubt) of this charge nurse, who will be writing information regarding the incoming patient.

The trifecta affect is official once the charge nurse writes the letters 'PNB' on the paper. This stands for Pulse-less, Non-Breathing, and means CPR/intubation and a 'code'. To complete the trifecta action, the patient will be sent to a room on the side with by far the most admissions, the newest RNs and me (This is rarely anything other than the B-side, and especially Trauma 5). In fact, on one occasion, I was the most senior personnel involved in a trifecta incident. (That is not to say the most knowledgeable, just had the longest employment at St. Michael.)

Possibly the greatest all-time trifecta moment occurred during CPR:
- "Do we have a pulse??"
- "I don't know, but we've got a hernia."

Now, I'm not aware of further developments of the trifecta since having left, but I can say that I'm sure it’s not the same. I know that certain RNs will readily fill the vacancy I have left behind (and I think it would be safe to say that certain people are their own trifectas, and you know who you are). But, to make an incredibly long-story pertinent, in the package I recently received, there was a t-shirt. Written in block letters across the front is the phrase, "Trouble Finds Me."

And finally, because everyone should learn something new everyday, here is an interesting piece of trivia: Rouleaux - A French word meaning "stack", e.g., The erythrocytes form stacks called rouleaux which settle faster (impress your friends!).

The 'Unified Quiz'

2006-02-16T18:39:00.000-06:00

[Before I start, a few housekeeping items:
1. I have no idea where the post on 'Meetings' has gone. I am still impressed that the internet (usually) works when I tell it to, so trying to retrieve a post is like violating the second law of thermodynamics as far as I am concerned (which, incidentally, cannot be done).
2. I posted a ton of new pictures a few days ago, but haven't gotten a chance to write about it. I think that those who are brave enough to look at them will find an interesting surprise.]

Well, Monday was a day of fun for a lot of people here at SGU. As our first real testing experience, it was amazing to me the things that people will do at this point in their educational careers. For example: a cell phone rang during the middle of the exam. I am still amazed when this happens in class, and although our professors don't throw conniption fits like Mike Sherman, it boggles the mind that this kind of thing would take place at medical school.

As for me, I had a nerve-wracking experience, and it happened as I was working on my biochemistry section. To preface, there were proctors all over the lecture hall and obviously one would have to be stupid to try to communicate (or use the phone, I would think). Eventually, one of the proctors came to rest on the stairwell behind me, which wasn't very comforting, but since I wasn't cheating, I wasn't terribly concerned.

That feeling changed immensely when a woman a few rows behind had finished her exam and was walking down the stairs to the front. I was on the aisle, so noticed her walk by and then drop her scan-tron sheet onto my feet. So, now I've got the proctor watching me and I don't know whether to pick it up and hand it to her, lest I be accused of some academic issues. It was probably comical for me to be thinking about this at the time, but I was pretty concerned. Fortunately, I didn't have to make any choices as the woman then leaned over and picked her own sheet of my shoes.

This was also strange as I didn't know what the professor might think we were talking about while she bent down past me. Overall, it was new for me since such a simple event had never been so meaningful to me before. It was all for nothing as there was no problem and the proctor knew it was innocent, but it gave my heart a jump momentarily.

After the exam, it’s safe to say all 1st termers had the same idea: head for the beach! We all were on busses all afternoon and enjoying ourselves on the sands of Grand Anse. It was great fun. Incidentally, virtually all the pictures come from Grand Anse. It’s a beautiful beach, the water was warm and the sun was hot. I can't complain at all. We were able to relax for the first time since classes have started, did not have to think about school for the afternoon and were truly able to take advantage of the island which we will inhabit for two years. Finally.

Anyway, after the beach, we headed back to campus and a group us cleaned up to go to Steward's for dinner. You couldn't ask for a more perfect night. We watched the sunset on the beach and then had Carib and quesadillas for dinner, sitting on the water-front and listening to come reggae music (ok, I'd be lying if I said I haven't heard enough reggae for a while), but you still couldn't ask for a better ending. Although Steward's is located next door to a resort, the staff is extremely friendly and since we were the only people at the bar on a Monday, we had their full attention and could just chit-chat and enjoy their perspective on Grenada and how much they truly love where they are in life.

So, the week has been suitable so far. Sadly, we have midterms in two weeks, which puts a severe damper on our state of relaxation, but, that is the nature of the beast. Enjoy the pictures and if you're in Wisconsin, don't look out the window at the same time.

Getting the mail

2006-02-11T21:37:00.000-06:00

It’s been an exciting week here in Grenada. Not only was it Independence Day on Tuesday, but in the same week we learned the chemistry behind the 'electron transport chain' (this is some crazy stuff), but we also were treated to the 'tricarboxylic acid cycle' (sometimes known as the Krebs' Cycle). These are two very impressive reaction chains that take place in the body and help to give us the energy that we need to survive. They really are pretty sweet, and the amazing thing is that, unlike everything else in college chemistry, they make sense we one sees them written out.

But, I would be lying if I said that these two things were the most important part of the week. Truly the most fun and rewarding thing was receiving a package. Now, before I begin, this was no ordinary package. You see, despite being at Medical School (I feel it’s hard to over-emphasize that point here), we were told on the first day of anatomy lab that we would need to acquire our own gloves for use in the lab. Apparently, in the past, gloves were not required when working with dead bodies! (One of my professors, the chair of the department, suggested in all seriousness that if one gets cut by the scalpel, to stick one's hand in 'the juices' in order to clean it out. "It works better than soap and its right there," he said.) I think these people may have sun poisoning.

Now, before I am hypocritical, and in the hopes that I don't get fired and/or receive many outraged e-mails, I will be the first to admit that I rarely wear gloves in the emergency department when starting IVs or drawing blood (I do, however, wear gloves when doing everything else! And you should see me go through the 'hand rinse'!). I am virtually incapable of finding a vein by touch, and, with gloves on, it is near impossible. So, I often don't wear gloves when working with alive bodies.

It never occurred to me that anyone would not wear gloves in anatomy lab (working with dead bodies), or, for that matter, need to bring their own. I had, in fact, erred completely. I'm not entirely sure it’s not a fund-raiser for some organization, as gloves cost EC$1.00/pair, with no 'bulk discount.' And since I don't plan on reusing the gloves, I would need a new pair each visit to the lab. This could get extremely expensive over a four month period!

Anyway, I needed gloves! One of my friends was kind enough to send me a package with gloves and boy was I excited when I got the slip of paper in my mailbox saying, "Box#407, you have a package waiting for you at 'Lagoon Road.' Please receive your package or send someone authorized in the event you are unable to attend."

Huh? Where is 'Lagoon Road'? Why isn't my package here at the post-office? Why do I have to send someone to get it for me? Help . . . So, I walked to the friendly clerk in the mailroom. Without even saying a word (I'm not even lying), he sent me to the bookstore. So, I went to the bookstore to further investigate this curiosity.

It turns out, I need to go downtown, to the Lagoon Road Post Office (aha, now it’s coming together), taking a taxi or the 'Reggae Bus', sometime during the week (of course they are closed on the weekends) from 9.30-4.30pm. I asked if there were other options, as my class schedule doesn't really permit me to take an all day excursion during the week, and it’s pretty expensive to get a taxi downtown into St. Georges. Of course there was: I could pay a courier to go to Lagoon Road and pick up my package. Sign me up!

So, I signed the authorization for 'Frank', the courier, to receive my package in my stead, paid the EC$18.00 (I might drop out and do his job, plus he only goes three days/week) and was told to wait until Friday (as I was too late on Wednesday for him to know about my package). Then, Friday afternoon, miraculously, my package was waiting for me at the bookstore. To top it off, I did not even owe a duty on the gloves (they are currently non-taxed, unlike practically everything else that comes in the mail around here) and was free to take my package. The good news? The gloves were only sent about three weeks ago!

Anyway, we have this 'Unified Quiz' on Monday, so I'm busy preparing for that. I would say something stupid like, "I'm going to the beach afterward," but that hasn't been working out too well as of yet, so I'll just wait and see. It feels odd to be thinking about the Winter Olympics while its 70, but it's one thing I am definitely missing right now. It turns out one of my friends here was an alternate in 2002 for the 4-woman bobsled, but she turned it down to work on her masters' degree. Clearly a mistake as she's back in school again!

Quick Pictures

2006-01-30T16:27:00.000-06:00

Before I get to some biochemistry (and you thought I didn't have a life), I took some pictures and uploaded them onto my pictures website. They are all views from the 'Upper True Blue' campus, which is basically walking out my dorm room and 'up' a hill (I live on 'Lower True Blue').

Most of the pictures can be seen directly when I walk out of classes (we have all our lectures in the same lecture hall). There is one picture of the memorial to the Marines who were killed when the medical students were evacuated in the '80s. That memorial leads to the anatomy building (I know that it sounds like a tough life so far). Also, there are two pictures of an island called Glover's island, which is an old whale fisherman's station. They would leave their ships there and then take smaller row-boats into Grenada.

Unfortunately, they are not properly labeled as I forgot to do that before I uploaded them, but you can feel free to ask me questions about them and hopefully I will be able to answer (additionally, the local weather report shows some pretty nice weather for the next few days - I just couldn't help myself).

Suddenly it's Sunday

2006-01-29T18:56:00.000-06:00

Sunday. A day of relaxation. It certainly has been. I have relaxed in the study-lounge of my dorm. I have relaxed during my run to Carib (a local brewery) and back in the steaming hot sun (did I mention that it almost never gets cold here. In fact, the times when I put on the most clothes are when I am inside because the a/c is usually kept to Arctic temperatures around here. I sometimes have to wear pants and long-sleeved shirts indoors!). I then relaxed while I gulped my dinner to get a good seat in the Histology building (it’s a great place to study and spread out). Finally, I'm relaxing right now before I head to a study session later to talk about syncitiotrophoblasts and cytotrophoblasts (sounds intriguing, doesn't it?).

Actually, it is pretty fun. In fact, your fun fact of the week is that syncitiotrophoblasts are cells which have no distinct plasma membrane, and invade the endometrium of the uterus during implantation of the blastocyst (i.e., fertilized ovum). How interesting is that? Then, they absorb uterine ducts and maternal blood to create the primordial placenta . . . but, I suppose that’s neither here nor there.

Anyway, I believe I briefly mentioned the Sugar Shack in an earlier post. That is the restaurant with the best roti ever. Well, we went there on Saturday night for dinner and, let me just say, you will not have better jerk pork or chicken in the world. It was out of control. I am, however, sad to report that they only serve the jerk-dinner on Saturday night, so it will be another week until I can have it again!

Afterward we headed to the student center. It’s a lot like the Memorial Union in Madison. We have two restaurants, a weight room, a bank, and a couple of outdoor basketball courts (which are readily and easily converted into street hockey courts. More on that later.) Additionally, we have a full-service bar, much like Madison. So, we went to have a few drinks and enjoy the weather from the huge porch/deck combination of the upper level. Even though I don't particularly rubbing it in to people who aren't here, it does feel strange to be enjoying the late January weather. We keep making references to things that happen in the summer at home as though we will have to wait for them. It’s also strange to be thinking about the Winter Olympics when there is no winter (not that I'm complaining). The point is, it was a great night.

I would like to take this opportunity to also describe the street hockey situation here at SGU. Interestingly enough, one of our anatomy prof. hails from Canada, but way of the University of Michigan for his doctorate, so he has hockey in every orifice. He has set-up a fairly competitive and incredibly well-attended street hockey following for all the students.

So, a friend and I decided to join in on Saturday as they were gearing up for some pick-up games. Many of you may not know this, but when I was younger, I actually played ice hockey. My dad and I had some fun mornings at 6.00am Sunday practice, and although I look back upon my hockey days fondly, I'm not sure I reacted that way when I was little. As an aside (I really enjoy stream-of-consciousness writing, by the way), my team was selected to play during one of the intermissions at an Admiral's game, and that was awesome. My team won, and although I wasn't the best on the team, I definitely had the best clothes-line penalty of the night. Since there were no officials during the little game that we played, it was pretty outstanding!

I also spent some very exciting Sunday afternoons at the NAT, in Madison, playing floor hockey. The team on which I played was awesome but we kept getting screwed by the blue-haired ref who hated us for some reason.

Being the only 1st termers on the court, we weren't really sure what we were about to experience. It was only 4 vs. 4, so it couldn't be too bad, right? In fact, that would be false. We looked like complete fools as these guys ran circles around us and our teammates just bailed us out the entire time. Eventually, they just left us alone by our respective goals and did their own thing on offense while we pretended to play defense. It was a lot of fun, but you need a full semester just to get acclimated!

Back to reality, tomorrow morning I will spend some time with the various cadavers in the anatomy lab. I have not actually named the male that I (along with other students) am specifically assigned to dissect, but I will ask around and see what some other students have decided about their respective bodies. I was thinking Wayne for mine, but I can't really say why . . . just seems appropriate.

Enjoying your weekends

2006-01-24T18:53:00.000-06:00

I really enjoy the weekend. One can relax, spend time with friends, watch some football/basketball/crummy movies or spend the weekend with your new best friend: a dead body. I'm not saying I don't enjoy spending time with dead bodies (well, I'm not saying that I actually do, either), but it was a different weekend than I might normally have, when I was not concerned with work and exams and more exams and a quiz.

Regardless, it was a good weekend. The Badgers loss notwithstanding, I'm ready for the week ahead. I am acutely aware, however, that is now Tuesday night (and the week ahead has been well-established). Where have the days gone? Already I am worried about our 'unified quiz'. A 20-25 point examination in each class destined to gauge our progress after four weeks of the term. It’s purposefully not worth many points, but it will shunt students into the Department of Educational Services if they score particularly poorly in any/all of the subjects.

Consequently, many of us spent our weekends with books and bodies, and did not do the things that would normally be considered fun and relaxing. The one truly fun activity I did have was grocery shopping. Having already braved my first experience, it was a pleasure to head back and learn more. For instance, the milk was fresh (not due to expire until January 26th), but the bread did not arrive to the store until after I had finished my shopping. This is apparently normal in Grenada. Although not devoutly religious, they observe many devoutly religious customs. Mainly, this includes not working on Sunday. It was by sheer luck that the grocery store was even open on Sunday morning (we actually arrived before 10.00am, and were turned away until that time).

Saturday, however, is an apparently different custom. Next to my dorm they are building another dorm to accommodate more students on campus (i.e., make more money so students can live on-campus and not off-campus). This is a great idea as I would personally love to be one of those students next term. One would think that the whole weekend would be sacred, especially considering the way the rest of life tends to operate around here.

This is not the case. Precisely at 7.30am, on Saturday, my first day of freedom to sleep, they began constructing a scaffolding directly outside of my room. I live on the end of the hall next to the new building, and they were simply going up. That would be fair enough, except that I swear they were using a steel press to build their own scaffolds and then assembling them with the Grenadian version of a jack-hammer. It’s great that they want to get an early start, but by noon, everyone is relaxing, taking naps on the trucks, randomly firing up grills and generally not working at all. Lest you think they are behaving like Spaniards, they are just chilling out on the worksite. Half the guys and moving around and doing things, the other half is basically lounging all over the place.

I guess you just can't win many battles around here. Right now, I'm going to head to a friend's room and we are going to quiz each other on Histology and Embryology, two subjects getting the short ends of our respective straws as we all are crazy over Anatomy and Biochemistry. It continues to be my great pleasure to write, and I'm glad that people are enjoying, at least a little, of what I have to say. I'm finding it is a great study break (who am I kidding, anything is a great study break) and I'm glad to oblige.

Finally, I do have my first exam on Thursday. I can honestly say I'm not worried about it, but actually happy to have a class with which I am confident of an A: CPR. So, wish me luck and remember, even though the new standards are 30 compressions to 2 breaths, the American Heart Association is still teaching 15:2 due to the lack of new materials with which to test people. It is nice to know that the AHA is taking some lessons from the Grenadian way of life.

One Week Down

2006-01-21T10:46:00.000-06:00

We have officially finished our first week as medical students. It was definitely a daunting experience. Learning anatomy is very interesting, and although I knew the body was a complex place, it amazes me how many muscles, bones and nerves are truly interconnected and dependent on each other.

Speaking of anatomy, we had our first dissection on Friday. This was an extremely interesting and, though it might initially sound inappropriate, fun experience. I recently realized I had become desensitized to death and the human body when, in the aftermath of a code, i.e., cardiac/respiratory arrest (a code that I'm sure was preventable had the infamous trifecta not been working), I headed to the morgue with the body and a pocketful of pretzels since I was hungry. This is not to say that I am not sensitive to the deceased, but that I have learned that bodies are only temporary vessels.

So, anyway, our lab was fun in that we could actually see how the muscles are working together with the bones to move different parts of the body. It truly makes the anatomy come alive (no pun intended). In fact, all of my classes are fun. Reviewing the material and seeing what we are about to learn is what keeps everything interesting. For example, did you know that

In addition to schoolwork, of which I have probably done more in one week than the entirety of my undergraduate career, I have learned that Indian food is outstanding. There is a little-known restaurant on campus named the Sugar Shack, and they serve a dished called roti that is amazing. It only costs EC$9.00 (about $3.00) and is out of this world. Additionally, its as big as a burrito from Q-doba (which is incidentally infinitely better than Chipotle).

I'm not really sure where my point lies in all this, but let me summarize briefly. I've adjusted to living here, now I need to adjust to going back to school. It was certainly nice not having an responsibility except work (where I generally also have little responsibility). This week of classes has definitely taught me some humility, the fact that I now love Indian food, and the fact that the human body is incredibly more interesting than I originally thought.

Finally, I love to hear what's happening at home, so please keep your e-mails coming, and you'll find I respond with passable regularity.

'Good Morning', in Grenadian

2006-01-18T19:51:00.000-06:00

After two days of classes, everyone in our class is already behind. Living on an island in the Caribbean, though it has its advantages (some pictures), also has some disadvantages. The first one being that sometimes the jet carrying your course companions for anatomy and histology haven't yet arrived. So, we're a little behind on our studying until they arrive and are distributed!

I did, however, have a definitively 'island' experience this morning. Here in Grenada, the 1st termers are required to live 'on campus'. Our dorms are very little different than dorms at most major colleges, with the minor exceptions that we have a full-size 'fridge, our own bathroom with shower, a stove-top and some cupboard space in the kitchenette. Additionally, along with the price of our housing comes a cleaning service twice per week.

This is not nearly as glamorous as it sounds. The cleaning ladies will mop the floor, give a wipe-down to the exposed surfaces and give a small cleaning to the bathroom. This is pretty lavish for most of us since we have lived in slum-housing for the past years and paid out the nose for our own selves to clean and then get charged after one year for the things we apparently did not clean well enough, e.g., scrubbing the oven.

So, in my dorm, the ladies clean half the rooms every Monday and Wednesday, and the other half every Tuesday and Thursday. Not having class until 1.00pm today, I thought a little late sleep would then accompany my running some errands (my phone is now back!), some light review before lecture and then class.

So, when my alarm when off this morning, one can imagine my surprise when the cleaning lady was standing at the foot of my bed mopping the floor! She said, "Good morning," and I responded in kind, but was unsure where our interaction would next proceed. At the risk of offending some readers, I will reveal that I wear boxers to bed. In Grenada, when men and women attend any function together, the men generally have to wear pants and the women wear formal slacks or dress pants. Generally, it is a religious country and you need to show the proper respect when addressing, or socializing with, the opposite sex. It turns out I was no longer appropriately dressed in my own room.

Despite my morning not going exactly as planned, I made it into town to retrieve my phone (and it actually works . . . one can e-mail me for the number as I don't want to publish it), went to the 'hardware' store for a plate, mug, silverware and binders, bought some Calamine Lotion at the pharmacy (how could I have forgotten that?!) and made it to the bank. After this, its back to Anatomy for more fun.

As an aside, for those who are curious, my classes are: Gross Anatomy (meaning learn the entirety of the body), Biochemistry, Histology (cells and cellular structures), Embryology (the embryo and its development) and Clinical Skills (this term we study ethics & learn the proper patient interview).

On the First Day?

2006-01-16T22:13:00.000-06:00

After reading, taking notes and studying for the last three hours, I'm ready for a break. We had our first classes today, but they were about what was expected: syllabi, greet the students, explain the grading, the class structure, give office hours, etc. All of the professors were great speakers and really gave the impression that they wanted the students to do well and would do everything in their power to accomplish this goal.

Hilariously, after about 1 & 1/2 hours of the 2 hour session, two guys got up from the front and tried to leave the lecture hall. The professor at the time called them back and just berated them with jokes in front of the entire class. This is one of those 'You had to be there' stories, but where exactly did they have to be that was more important than finding out all the information that they could about their upcoming classes? This was the only thing the entire first term had planned for the day and they still had to leave early, disrupt the entire class and look like idiots. The good news is that all the professors were there in the classroom and watched/listened to the two of them make complete fools of themselves as they tried to explain their way out of it to the professor who was at the front at the time.

Anyway, after this session, all 1st term students attended the 'White Coat Ceremony'. This is to induct students into the 'noble profession of medicine' and start the journey of 'professionalism'. I posted two pictures from that and will have more when some of my friends are able to upload their pictures as well.

Tomorrow morning we have anatomy lab for the first time. This is simply a lab orientation period, but we start the superficial back and pectoral region on Friday. From 1.00pm until 5.00pm (which will be the schedule virtually each day for the rest of the semester) we have lecture, broken only by the change in professors from one subject to another.

Four classes: Biochemistry, Gross Anatomy, Histology and Embryology. Additionally, a clinical skills component will be given once a week and we start that this Saturday with CPR (at least there is one class in which I have an advantage!). Thanks to everyone who wished me well today, but it was the easy one.

It begins.

The Definition of Irony

2006-01-15T20:09:00.000-06:00

On Saturday, I took a tour of St. Georges (the capital, not the school) with some friends and a number of 1st termers here from school. We walked throughout a great deal of the city, taking in the daily vegetable market, Fort George, the local parliament building, the 'tourist mall', the fish market, and two destroyed churches. I updated a number of photos regarding this tour and want to explain a little about the pictures that I took.

It seems, in 2004, Hurricane Ivan (I've been assured that Grenada is below the hurricane belt numerous times) destroyed 90% of the roofs in the entire country. The country responded with force and have repaired and rebuilt many of these structures, bringing back the beauty and showing the resilient spirit of the Grenadian people. Despite Grenada being a tourist destination for the cruise ships and for the many tourists who fly in daily from other various Caribbean islands, there were two churches on our tour which remained destroyed from this hurricane.

One of the many interesting juxtapositions on the tour was seeing two cruise ships docked outside one of the poorest neighborhoods, while the city found the money to erect a large mall for the cheesy, tourist crap that one can buy, they can't feed many of the citizens and have to deal with silly foreigners walking through their city and asking stupid questions, clogging the streets and just acting foolish. So, some of the pictures I think represent the interesting irony of the massive cash flow of these ships dwarfing the local economy.

Anyway, I also posted a picture of a woman who cooked one of the best barbecued dinners that I think I have ever eaten, which happened on Friday night. But, on Saturday, I think the most ironic event of the week took place. The entire student body was invited to the semi-annual 'AMSA Party.' This takes place at the beginning of every term, and for the low price of EC$35.00, one has an open bar available from 10.00pm until 2.00am. It is held on the Grand Anse campus of the school and has a beautiful beach.

This doesn't seem ironic until one considers the student body which attends St. George's University. Generally speaking, many of the students at St. George's are here for the simple fact that they partied too hard in their undergraduate years and here they were, partying like there would be no tomorrow, on a beach in a tropical paradise, much like many of their undergraduate years. It was certainly a fun time, but I can't help but wondering about some people's motivation. Most of the older students said that it is the only party of the term, which makes me a little more comfortable.

Regardless, I'm just about to pack my things up and go to bed with my last few hours of normalcy. Everything will change in the morning. I'm extremely excited, but I cannot begin to explain the nervous feeling that I have in the pit of my stomach. Everyone around me has a background in biochem, anatomy, some are PAs, some are research assistants, etc. Although I couldn't be more proud of my time at St. Michaels, I can't help but feeling like everyone else is a step ahead of me in terms of the sciences which we are about to learn.

I've said this before, but in the morning I officially begin the rest of my life.

Spiceland Mall/Super-Value

2006-01-13T15:26:00.000-06:00

As anyone who has gone to college is acutely aware, buying groceries for the first time and then trying to cook/eat said groceries is an interesting, yet dangerous, proposal. Though I cooked from time-to-time while living off-campus, it never really occurred to me to attempt this feat while living in the dorms.

It turns out; cooking for yourself is somewhat of a necessity here at St. Georges. They have a number of fine restaurant establishments here at school, but I am slowly starving myself as its difficult to eat more than one or two meals per day at these places as you are paying cash, and since I can't receive my loan check until tomorrow, cash is rapidly disappearing and not being replaced.

But, all is not lost. After joining many of the '1st termers' on the school-sponsored 'Rhum Runner Cruise' today, I decided I would try to get into town in order to repair my phone and buy groceries. Let me first say a word, or two, on the aforementioned 'Cruise.' The Rhum Runner (yes, I spelled it that way twice on purpose) is a vessel much like the Iroquois in Milwaukee. A large group embarks, the band starts playing the steel drums, and they start serving the most potent rum punches in the world (for free) to everyone on board.

You leave the harbor, go directly over a reef where they toss some food overboard and open the glass-bottom section of the boat. Then, after about an hour of being on the water, they drop you off at a beach, let you roam from an hour and a half, and then take you directly home. I had a great time while only consuming one drink (you could seriously take paint off the walls with this stuff), but let me say that already I have met someone who will skinny-dip at 11.00am if it means more punch is on the way.

I have posted some new pictures from this journey (not of the naked man) on my photo-site, should anyone be interested. After this cruise, I decided to try my hand at grocery shopping. This was a fun experience. I have made some observations:

1. Fresh (as in refrigerated) milk is only available when it comes in, but boxed milk is good forever as long as you refrigerate it after opening.
2. Chicken feet can be butchered to order, or they are also in the freezer isle.
3. Frozen foods may or may not be opened and 'inspected' by other consumers before deciding against the purchase.
4. Fresh, packaged fish is usually stored on the floor due to the smell.

So, this was a fun, fact-finding experience for me, one which I regret not taking more pictures to share. Also included in this trip was a stop at the phone store, where I discovered that they will need to keep my phone until Tuesday, at which time I can call a very nice lady who will tell me if it’s done or not. She assured me that it will be finished Tuesday, yet I would not be surprised if that was not the case.

Finally, I have figured out my new mailing address, so if anyone wants it, please ask (I'm not posting it on the website!), but I have to find the nearest post office and so you won't be receiving anything back for a few days at least. Tomorrow should be an easy, so maybe I'll let you know how it goes cooking my own food.

Every Cloud has a Silver Cloud....

2006-01-12T14:03:00.000-06:00

I'm thrilled to report that, despite their best efforts to the contrary, American Airlines was able to locate my luggage in Barbados and send it to Grenada (through a different airline company) and have it arrive safely, but soaking wet, to me. Of course, the only major downside to the whole situation being the fact that I only received my things on the second trip to the airport, because they mistakenly told me it was already in on Wednesday, which it was not.

So anyway, most of my things are currently in the dryer while I write this, and hopefully they will remain there until I return. The sad and silver cloud to my recently completed adventure is that the phone I bought yesterday apparently locked itself (meaning I can no longer send or receive calls) and so now I have to get into town and find the 'Customer Service Center' of my phone company. They can't give me a new one because it supposedly is an easy fix, but can only be accomplished at that specific location. With that in mind, I will have a new adventure tomorrow. As an aside, this made locating my luggage an interesting endeavor.

Included in that adventure, I think, will the purchase of some modest cooking items and food to have in my dorm room. I had high hopes of taking some campus pictures and maybe one or two of my room, but since it is raining today (I swear they said the rainy season ended in November/December), I decided against the picture route. But, the point of that statement was that my roommate and I share a full-size 'fridge and two burner stove-top, including numerous cabinets. Since food on campus, though well-prepared, is exorbitantly expensive, having some things of my own will come in extremely handy.

Other than those two major things, I'm afraid I do not have much to report. I did receive my books today, and that took some intestinal fortitude, since there are a lot of them. Of course, that would be taken for granted when one attends med-school, but the weight was more than I initially expected. I think I'm going to check my laundry and hope that I won't have to rush right back here and post how I lost the clothes I was drying anyway!

Thanks to everyone who has written so far. I keep getting requests for my address, so as soon as I remember to bring it with me when I go to a wireless area (every school building is enabled, and the top floor of the dorms has it. Basically, the only places on campus where they don't provide free wireless is in everyone's dorm room) I forget to bring the necessary paperwork (its kind of a long address). Also, the sun is starting to come back out, so I'm going to have to punish myself by going outside in the 80 degree heat.

Barbados International Airport

2006-01-10T12:39:00.000-06:00

Right now, I'm looking out into a bay with clear, blue water, several small offshore islands and a beautiful blue sky. I would be lying if I said my trip to get here was uneventful, because it was eventful. Let's reminisce . . .

My trip from Milwaukee to Chicago was OUT-standing. Maggie and Dad drove me down and I have absolutely no complaints. From Chicago to San Juan, also awesome. I sat next to an elderly lady and her daughter and we chit-chatted the whole time and laughed and enjoyed ourselves immensely. Even the flight from San Juan to Barbados was nice and quiet, with marginal turbulence.

When most people fly, there is only one possible thing that can go wrong: their luggage doesn't make it. When most people fly to foreign countries, the worry about a number of things, including not having their luggage arrive with them. When the average person arrives in a foreign country, specifically in the airport where he or she is about to spend the night waiting for an AM flight, they are concerned that their luggage will remain with them throughout that special evening.

Fortunately for me, I did not have to worry about my luggage getting stolen: it simply did not arrive from San Juan to Barbados. Now, to be fair, I have my carry-on and one of my bags. But, the bag with (wait for it, this gets good!) my SOCKS, PILLOW, and TOWEL (note the importance of these three items!), and other clothing items, somehow did not arrive in Barbados, and would consequently not be arriving in Grenada "until Wednesday at the earliest," quota the baggage handler in Barbados. So, I spent the night in Barbados International, waiting for a flight that wouldn't leave for another 10 hours. The good news is that I didn't need my pillow in the airport, because it was open-air, i.e., I had to sit with my bags all night long outside at the ticket check-in, staring into the parking lot of the airport. At least I met a lovely woman, also spending the night, so we could have bathroom breaks and little naps while the other watched our things.

The rest has been uneventful, and I met a nice guy from my dorm who let me store my stuff in his room while we explored the campus since the RA was nowhere to be found when I arrived to get my key, have since eaten (which has made me more tolerable) and also have finally met my RA to unpack my now extremely meager lot of worldly items.

And here I sit, in one of the open-air cafeterias, staring out over a soccer field, through some palm trees, at the ocean. Its been a fun 36 hours, but I could do with a little less drama and a little more PILLOW!

Finished Packing

2006-01-08T22:17:00.000-06:00

Its about time. If collecting your items and putting them all together into a suitcase is any measure of being ready, then I'm ready. I mean, how I could be more prepared to move over 2,500 miles with only some clothes, a computer and some school supplies. I should be extremely happy; I'm about to start medical school, an adventure which will last me the rest of my life and be the rest of my life.

I'd like to move completely off topic to say a little but about my family. Right now, we're watching Remember the Titans in the family room, and my sister Maggie says, "There are just so many parts to this movie when I want to cry." Madeline, who at this point is lying on Maggie's stomach, also watching the movie, says right back at her, "You would cry at this movie." These are the things that I miss while I'm not living at home, and will definitely miss while I'm away at school. Also, Maggie is the only one in the family willing to swear around our mother, which I would say is a risky proposal.

I have a very clear memory of Maggie and my mother (if you work with me, you also may have referred to her as 'Momma Meloy') at a Brewer game. Everyone except Joe was there and we were basically alone in our section. At one of the breaks between innings, Steve Miller Band's Swingtown starts playing on the sound system. If you ever attended a UW-Madison football game, you heard it and sang along with their special lyrics. In addition, the student section also has been known to swear at each other. So, into the spirit of the student section, but actually at the Brewer game, Maggie turns over to her mother and yells, "Eat shit!" My mom, clue less as to the nature of this outburst, basically falls out of her seat and everyone else is laughing hysterically.

Anyway, I figure that this post has gone on long enough, and I'm not sure just exactly what the point was when I started out, but I think the point now is that I'm going to miss things like this while I'm away. I'm not saying that its not to move onto a new playing field, or move to a new country, but I'm a little sad about leaving the comforts and things that I have gotten to know so well over the last few years.

Its going to be hard to leave in the morning, to be sure, but its nothing more than another adventure I've been preparing my whole life to start.