Bike accident

I was walking home today and I saw a girl sitting on the ground with blood on her chin and her hands, and a bike nearby. She looked extremely distressed, and although there were two other people there, and one was calling 911, I didn’t feel right just walking past her. So I stayed around to see if I could help with anything.

Wasn’t really sure what else I could do, but I tried to make some conversation with her, see if she remembers where she is, what happened a few seconds ago, where she lives, etc. They say that it’s okay for a person to sleep after a concussion, but I still felt like she should stay conscious.

Within a few minutes the ambulance came and they took care of everything. I was reminded of the two times I had serious bike accidents in college.

The first time, during sophomore year, I fell over my handlebars while braking with one hand and talking on the phone. I said I was okay but I could not stand up without feeling dizzy. A woman stayed with me and insisted that she at least drive me to the student health center. I got a sling for my left arm (I had cracked my elbow) but I was still able to make it to my chemistry midterm that night.

The second time, during senior year, my handlebar caught a bollard and I flipped to the side and hit my head. One person called 911 and made sure I did not try to get up (I was bleeding profusely from my scalp), and the other used my phone to contact my roommate. I went to the hospital and got some stitches, and a friend of mine drove me back to the house in time for dinner. Unfortunately, I had to eat fast because I had Bible study that night — they wouldn’t let me off the hook even though I had just gone to the ER. Don’t get me started.

Anyway, as a bystander today, I had no idea what to do. If someone has already called 911, what else should be done?

Maybe it’s just because it’s late at night

I saw this and absolutely FELL IN LOVE with a talented young lady named Melissa Ann Ledwon (along with her choreographer, music coordinator, and of course her costume designer). Simply sensational!:

Apparently this is from an old public-access TV talent show called “Stairway to Stardom.” You really need to watch a few of these videos (and read the YouTube comments) to get the full effect.

Oh if only this show were still on.

Things I would love to learn to do

• Cut my own hair
• Cook (for someone other than myself)
• Play piano
• Do fancy stuff with web design
• Alter/modify clothing
• Fix/build a bike
• Use a gun (as much as I dislike them, there may come a time when I will have to use one)
• Some form of martial arts
• Draw cartoons

I do not ever want to commute ever again

After this week of commuting from home (a.k.a. “home home” or “my parents’ home”) to campus, in the middle of rush-hour traffic, I have been turned off commuting for good, or at least for a good long while. Even with Google’s traffic maps, and my repertoire of songs that I can sing while driving, it was a painful and tiring 1.5- to 2-hour trip each way.

Next week I am moving back to campus, so that I only have a short bike ride to lab every morning. I can also relax more in the evenings, since for me, being by myself is much more relaxing and recharging than being with people — by FAR.

Went to a nice sushi place today with my lab: “You and I Sushi” in Laguna Hills. $16 something for all-you-can-eat, but the sushi is all made-to-order rather than buffet style. And there’s ice cream included at the end. The sushi was fantastic (their nigiri, and their hand rolls, and their special maki rolls — I love them all), and we ended up eating way too much, but I’d love to go there again for special occasions.

“Memory pill” news story

No, it’s not a memory enhancer. And it’s not exactly new: propranolol, a beta-blocker used to treat high blood pressure, can apparently dull emotionally intense memories, and help people with PTSD.

The ethical concerns about influencing memories is fascinating, although I think the story tries too hard to paint this as “a drug that changes your memories.”

I would also be concerned about neglecting the psychotherapy aspect of PTSD treatment. I mean, suppressing bad memories isn’t healthy either — it comes out in a lot of harmful ways (at least from anecdotal accounts people have told me, and from psychoanalytic theory).

I think there would also be a concern about prescribing beta-blockers to healthy people. Epinephrine and norepinephrine are important for a billion different functions in the body — regulating heart rate, kidney function and blood pressure, glucose metabolism and the stress response, and as a neurotransmitter in the brain. I don’t know if any long-term studies have been done to look at the risk of developing cardiac arrhythmia, hypotension, diabetes, or neurological symptoms.

Of course, there are risks associated with PTSD, and a poorer quality of life in some respects, but you really have to weigh both sides, and look at what other treatments are available, before jumping on this new treatment bandwagon.

The preceding commentary does not reflect the views of this station, or of actual doctors.

Becoming myself

Here is a poem I found last year. I read it every now and then, and sometimes I think — NOW, I’ve truly become my own person. Other times, I think — I’m not there yet, but someday.

It’s a difficult thing, to really have the courage and confidence to be your own person, rather than try to emulate others and do what you think will make them like you.

I worry sometimes that my blog must not be very interesting, and I don’t get many readers. Or that I don’t have a lot of people in my class whom I hang out with. Or that I need to do certain things so that I can look good to my professors or on my resume.

But what I do needs to come from inside of me — that’s the big lesson I learned from when I left the church. I cannot act in order to conform to others’ expectations AND at the same time be very happy or enthusiastic or effective in what I do.

Here is the poem. I don’t know when it will be true for me, but that’s my personal goal.

Now I Become Myself

Now I become myself. It’s taken
Time, many years and places;
I have been dissolved and shaken,
Worn other people’s faces,
Run madly, as if Time were there,
Terribly old, crying a warning,
“Hurry, you will be dead before–”
(What? Before you reach the morning?
Or the end of the poem is clear?
Or love safe in the walled city?)
Now to stand still, to be here,
Feel my own weight and density!
The black shadow on the paper
Is my hand; the shadow of a word
As thought shapes the shaper
Falls heavy on the page, is heard.
All fuses now, falls into place
From wish to action, word to silence,
My work, my love, my time, my face
Gathered into one intense
Gesture of growing like a plant.
As slowly as the ripening fruit
Fertile, detached, and always spent,
Falls but does not exhaust the root,
So all the poem is, can give,
Grows in me to become the song,
Made so and rooted by love.
Now there is time and Time is young.
O, in this single hour I live
All of myself and do not move.
I, the pursued, who madly ran,
Stand still, stand still, and stop the sun!

— May Sarton

Done!

I am now officially on summer break! I delayed posting this (although my last test was yesterday) because I was too dang tired yesterday, and also because I had one more thing today — helping out at the student-run free clinic this morning.

But now I am officially finished with first year! I still feel like I don’t know anything. Don’t ask me about the mysterious lump in your neck. I’ll just tell you that it might be a tumor.

Anyway, here is a funny video for you:

This is what happens when I go into cram mode

I am hopped up on caffeine and ready to go. Just a few more chapters. No sleep tonight.

And tomorrow I will have completed my first year of med school.

Some of the puns I have come up with tonight (a side effect of “cram mode”):

• “You got a question, I’ve got the ansa (cervicalis).”
• “Watch out or I’ll carotid-chop you. I am the carotid kid.”

I’ve also started singing “pterygopalatine ganglion” to the tune of “They’re taking the hobbits to Isengard.” This would also work with “stylomandibular ligament.”

I’ve also created anime-style mascots for each of the four parasympathetic ganglia of the head: Otic-chan, Submandibular-chan, Ciliary-chan, and Pterygopalatine-chan.

This is how I study, I swear.

UPDATE: The time is 3:36 AM. I am now watching a Mongolian Long Song video on YouTube. The way the singer manipulates her voice is just breathtaking — it sounds like the vibratos and grace notes of a virtuoso violinist.

This is anatomy-related because I’m reading about the larynx and all the muscles that you can control in order to make different sounds.

Pride! With photos!

Yes, I made the trek to West Hollywood today to check out Pride, which was awesome, and my first Pride ever.

I decided to go by myself, and I also decided to take the Metro to WeHo from Long Beach. I ended up parking at Long Beach Memorial (nice familiar setting — I’ve shadowed doctors there), which is literally across the street from the station for the Blue Line.

The Metro is actually surprisingly nice — the trains are clean, fast, and you don’t have to wait very long to catch one. And there are some really convenient stops: Universal Studios, Staples Center, Hollywood and Highland, Union Station. And a bus+rail day pass for $3? Amazing.

I also wanted to add that I had a bad experience and a good experience coming back: the bad experience was with a taxi driver who ripped me off (I wanted to catch a movie with a friend, and I didn’t even make it to that because he was so slow); the good experience was chatting with a random cute guy (alas, he mentioned an ex-girlfriend) on the train.

The parade was great. Let’s check out the photos:

Title slide:

People lined up for the parade on Santa Monica Blvd:

Angels:

Cowboys:

Dommes:

Empresses (Second-favorite photo):

And, of course, lots and lots of eye candy (Favorite photo):

Hope you had a good weekend too!

Post-Neuro celebration

After our Neuroscience final yesterday, I went with some of my friends to a new place called Yogurtland: a sort of self-serve frozen yogurt bar. You dispense the yogurt into these plastic tubs (someone said that it looked like a container for stool samples) and add toppings, and they weigh it and charge you 30 cents an ounce. With lots of yogurt and almost no toppings, mine came out to ~$4.

(My description doesn’t do it justice like the post at Monster Munching does.)

And the Queer Graduate Caucus party was also last night. I saw some people I knew and met some of the other students. And there was free beer, too.

Coming back, I saw one of my neighbors (a second-year med student) moving his stuff into a U-Haul. This was almost 10:00 and it was just him and his roommate, so I helped them move until his brother arrived, and he gave me his Pretest Physiology book in return (score!). I told them that I was at the Queer Grad Caucus party, and it sort of led to me telling them that I am gay. It’s much easier now for me to say it, without a lot of thinking and hesitation.

And I promised my roommate that I would have some drinks and play poker with him and his friends (my friends too) at their apartment. Well, we ended up going through several beers, a lot of whiskey, and a whole bottle of sake by the time we left, which was at 5 AM.

So now I’m feeling pretty miserable. And I probably wiped out a bunch of that stuff I studied.

Next up: Doctoring and Anatomy finals.