A manicotti creation and mint blessings

I got a creative hankering this morning at the grocery store....and so this is what happened (not really sure what I should call it).

Fills 2 Manicotti noodles
¼ cup cooked lean ground turkey
½ tsp cinnamon
Pinch salt to taste
½ tsp cayenne pepper
½ cup chopped eggplant
1 small chopped onion
¼ cup chopped mushrooms
3 cloves garlic, chopped
1 small egg
2 tbsp fat free cream cheese
¾ cup tomato sauce
½ oz skim mozzarella

Boil manicotti's and set aside. Brown turkey with salt, cinnamon, and cayenne, set aside. Saute eggplant, garlic, onion, and mushroom (use cooking spray). Mix together turkey with veggies, add egg and cream cheese. Stuff manicotti's and pour tomato sauce, and any extra stuffing over the noodles. Cover and bake at 400 F for ½ hr. Uncover for last 5 min, and add mozzarella.

Nutrition per serving (1 stuffed manicotti with sauce):
Cal – 264 Fat – 6.5g Carbs – 19g Protein – 21.5g

I would’ve preferred to use ricotta or cottage cheese, but the grocery store was out of both items, and ff cream cheese has a pretty decent amount of protein per serving. To cut the carbs and calories, stuff a pepper instead of the manicotti's. If you’re a vegetarian, substitute soy pellets for the turkey.

I found a bundle of fresh mint leaves at the grocery store this week (I've never bought fresh mint before). But when I brought it home, I didn’t really know what to do with the bundle other than to pretend I was a priest and bless the dorm room (it was to shake out the water of course). Now they’re drying out, and hanging next to the icon over my bed. It smells nice, and I figure it could be convenient for morning breath (not like I ever have that).

Complaining.....again

The end is finally in sight, and I feel like a 20 year old car that just may die at any moment. I have no acceleration, some days I pray that I’ll even start, and even the high octane fuel (extra strong coffee) has no kick whatsoever. The Emperor (Star Wars) has been teaching us neuropathology for the past week. I listen to him talk for 4 hours of the day (yes he talks for 2 straight hours during class, then 2 full hours during lab – how is this possible? The man is like 206 years old). Even the gym has become uninspiring, and it really sucks to mentally push myself through every set and rep. I’m sick of eating the same food I’ve been eating all semester, and uninspired to try and cook anything new. If I found a study stating all my nutrients could be assimilated from 6 servings of oatmeal a day, I would subside off of that. As it is, I’ve discovered that refried beans straight out of the can, can be a very satisfying meal (reminds me of posno pasulj).

The nutrition course we’ve been taking these last three weeks have been a complete and utter sham. I am seriously considering writing a letter to the dean, asking for a refund of the credit hours (at this point, its just waaaay too much effort and I have no motivation)! Not only was the required textbook not used or referenced by any of our professors, that last packet of lecture material was thrown out due to poor time management and lack of screeing the lecture material presented by the visiting professors.

On the topic of nutrition – I highly recommend taking a read through an excellent article about Type II Diabetes and its disease like spread along with the American Heart Association’s endorsement of their high carb, low fat food pyramid.

It is so enraging to both read and watch how society has become so dependent on medicines and pills to correct their health problems, when a proper nutritional regiment could absolve 90% of the problems. Medicine should be a last resort! This is why I plan on practicing more as a preventative doctor, encouraging my patients to come in during times of both sickness, and health - while they still have some so we can figure out ways to maximize, and keep it! I haven’t quite figured out the logistics of how I’ll get that type of relationship to work, but it’s something to aim for.

Plastic pelvic exams

So today was the day in our Clinical Skills class that we kind of learned how to perform pelvic exams. It began by watching outdated videos showing an exam of a ‘normal’ healthy patient, then we lined up to go feel around in some plastic models……and so let my griping begin.
Firstly, they really need a new video for the pelvic exam of the female patient – was it really necessary to find the hairiest woman possible for the exam? Yes I know I’ll be seeing patients in all shapes, forms, and sizes, but comon’, this woman quite possibly had hirsuitism. Secondly – my God! I never knew that as part of the complete genital examination a combined bimanual rectovaginal exam was done (yes one finger in each at the same time)…..I’m glad my physician has good judgement about skipping that part of the exam. Also, during the breast exam of the female patient I could literally count all of her ribs coming off her sternum – is this normal/healthy? I’d like to know her BMI to use that statement (maybe all that excess hair was lanugo…..). So that was my review of the instructional video we were shown.

The plastic models were just plain silly – they should upgrade those too – these things were made out of pliable plastic, and I could see the cervix without even inserting the speculum (kills the whole joy of discovery). At least fill the inside with some sort of foamy/spongy stuff - heck, just buy some apple preserves and heat ‘em up for good measure (the movie ‘American Pie’…..). There wasn’t really an anus on the model either, unless you count the puncture marks in the rectal area.

Lastly, I was disappointed that they didn’t have any male plastics so I could pretend to palpate inguinal/femoral hernias, scrotal masses, or enlarged prostates. A little one-sided, and I will not think about it much longer because it will inevitably lead me to write about the iniquities of being a female in this world – and I’ve got studying to do.

The next gene to be discovered....

Ever find yourself wondering if some people are conscious of the noise they make? When I lived at home, and would come home during the early hours of the morning, I would attempt to be as discrete as possible (and not because I was scared Tata would beat me). This meant extra care in opening and shutting of doors, stepping on the least creaky parts of the staircase, and not turning on lights, until doors were shut. I did notice that both of my brothers were completely unaware of doing any of these things.
Other house activities that make an immense amount of noise are in the kitchen. I don’t know if it’s just me, but when I hear the slamming of cupboards, refrigerator and microwave doors, the banging of pots and pans or dishes being put away – I seriously wonder where the consideration is. And secondly, if they have none, why do I make such an effort to be polite at 5:30am if they can’t do so at 12:00 am? Perhaps its just habit to be naturally loud at some things without even realizing it – every now and then I find myself giving people the ‘lets lower our voices' sign (really meaning lower your own voice).
I know we are all missing genes of some sort, so I’ll call this one the SSC gene – Self Sound Consciousness gene. And of course the scientists will discover different variants of it with mice knockout models: SSC-1, 2, 3, 4, and 5.
1 – sound modulation while on the phone
2 – sound modulation while entering a room
3 – sound control while performing kitchen tasks
4 – sound control while closing/opening doors of any sort
5 – sound control while using devices (ie tv’s, mp3 players etc)
Most people I know have mutations in one or more of their SSC genes (heck, I’m sure my SSC-5 is under regulated at times). Either that or some of us have selective hearing damage and cerebellar brain damage modulating fine motor control.

Lose money lectures

Every Monday morning, I get up between 5-5:30 so I can make it to the gym, and attend the 8am lecture. On Monday’s I gage whether the 8:00 lectures are worth attending for the week because generally, it’s the same professor lecturing on their prospective material. Last week we began our nutrition course. Before the course began I was excited to expand upon what I believe to be a decent foundation in nutrition. Considering I have spent a lot of time reading about this stuff during my leisure, and growing up in a slightly orthorexic household with a mother who was a former childbirth educator (I've been lectured on breast feeding since I was 5), I've already been exposed to a large amount of the material. After last Monday’s assessment of the lecture material and presentation I decided to forgo the 8am lecture as it was an introduction to the material, and more or less common sense, and a lot of material I had already learned either individually or through other courses. This morning’s lecture was utterly unbearable. The professor showed up 10 min. late, and clearly unprepared to deliver his material. I often become annoyed when nothing can be added to the material being presented from the slides – what is the point of lecture then? This is not a subject that requires clarification, or attention to visual details – it’s based on experimentation and facts. I appreciate when a professor can infuse humor into a lecture when it is pertinent to the material, otherwise I don’t want to hear it. If I leave a lecture feeling that I could’ve presented the material better than the professor did, then yes, I’m pissed off because 50 min of my time was just wasted. This is a very expensive professional school, and with it I demand professionalism and excellence from my educators - is that so much to ask?

Sorry, I've been playing around with my template, eventually I'll find something I like. Plus, I don't speak XML so it takes me forever to modify things.

For kicks

Every now and then I see these things posted up on someone's blog or website (thanks Aziza). Its a great way to kill time - this one was actually pretty accurate (or so I'd like to think).

Your Five Factor Personality Profile

Extroversion: You have low extroversion. You are quiet and reserved in most social situations.A low key, laid back lifestyle is important to you.You tend to bond slowly, over time, with one or two people. Conscientiousness: You have medium conscientiousness.You're generally good at balancing work and play.When you need to buckle down, you can usually get tasks done.But you've been known to goof off when you know you can get away with it. Agreeableness: You have high agreeableness.You are easy to get along with, and you value harmony highly.Helpful and generous, you are willing to compromise with almost anyone.You give people the benefit of the doubt and don't mind giving someone a second chance. Neuroticism: You have low neuroticism.You are very emotionally stable and mentally together.Only the greatest setbacks upset you, and you bounce back quickly.Overall, you are typically calm and relaxed - making others feel secure. Openness to experience: Your openness to new experiences is high.In life, you tend to be an early adopter of all new things and ideas.You'll try almost anything interesting, and you're constantly pushing your own limits.A great connoisseir of art and beauty, you can find the positive side of almost anything.

http://www.blogthings.com/thefivefactorpersonalitytest

Cheaters 1, Hard-workers 0

This last month or so has been very destructive. We’ve had midterms, quizzes, assignments, a final, and a nice big cheating scandal resulting in nothing. Needless to say, I’m trying to reconstruct myself, and drinking on a Monday night really wasn’t the best way to start things off. But, what’s done is done and I always like to find the positive side of any situation.
To begin with, I had my microbiology final last Friday. I am never one to stay after a test to find out my mark (although in retrospect I should’ve for this one). Normally, after I’m finished a test I relish in packing up course notes, taking down all the post-its or charts I hung on my wall, and just putting everything away. Oddly though, after this final, I couldn’t bring myself to take any of the notes or charts off my walls – for some reason it just didn’t feel right (at times I get eerie bouts of clairvoyance). Low and behold, Monday we found out that cheat sheets were discovered in the washrooms used during the test, and we were informed that all 350 students (regardless of whether they used the bathroom or not) may have to re-write the final, as a consequence for the few. The rest of the week was a huge hoopla regarding the issue. The course of this semester has gotten worse as the weeks have gone by, so when I heard we may have to re-write the test I had no feelings at all. I've been so numbed out by all the other work we have, I couldn’t have cared one way or another (its like being $100 000 in debt – what’s another $10 000).
I am disgusted by the fact that there are people that may have cheated on our test. It reminds me of undergrad. There were some students that spent so much time figuring out how they could scam the system when it would’ve made more sense to just use that time to study. Well, it seems that the cheaters won again this time. After a week of noise making, no action was taken and our grades were finally released yesterday.
So when do the cheaters stop winning? Is it only about feeling good on the inside, and taking pride and satisfaction in my own hard work? It’s so infuriating – I cannot wish misfortune and bad luck on people, but I do believe in karma. Those who have cheated may have passed their microbiology final now, but in the grand scheme of things, maybe they will be cheated out something much larger in the future. Also, this group of cheater’s are particularly stupid – if you’re gonna cheat in the bathroom – flush your damn cheat sheet down the toilet when you’re done dumbass. I have so much more I would love to say regarding the situation, but frankly it's all talk, and nothing will come of it – so why waste precious study time?

What doesn't kill us now will do so later.

Med school is paradoxical, and at the crux of it all we’re studying all the things that can destroy a person’s health. It would be a correct assumption to believe we are all well versed in risk factors, predispositions, and predilections for certain diseases. And yet in trying to attain our ultimate goal, we do so by sacrificing so many facets of our own health.

I took my second pathology midterm last Tuesday. This was promptly followed by the advanced clinical skills (ACS) practical on Wednesday, and topped off by a microbiology final Friday. This weekend is supposed to be leisurely in that we only have our ACS written midterm this Monday. This semester can be summed up with a mental picture of the torture we've been subjected to. It is of a huge muscular guy, with a bald head, paunch stomach, and a tattoo around his left eye. He is shirtless, wearing a spiked collar, and responds to the name Thor. For the last month Thor had been instructed by my professors to beat the $%*& out of me with his bare hands everyday, and then increase the frequency to twice a day for the last two weeks.

Well, this last day and a half I’ve been trying to recuperate. I learned a lot from the experience and thought “Okay, that hurt, I’m still alive, but I think next time I finally know how to handle Thor". Just when I thought it couldn’t possibly get any worse I checked my schedule for the following month.

Now picture Thor again, only this time my professors have given him a mace with the same instructions. I hope I make it out alive.

I think I'm gonna puke

How to get rid of restless leg syndrome from too much studying:

If you can do this circuit in under 100 seconds with proper form I give you props:

24 body weight squats
24 bw lunges (12 per leg)
24 lunge jumps
24 squat jumps

My time was 134 sec with a full belly, tight jeans, and bare feet. Do not attempt on a full stomach of food - I keep burping up little vomits in my mouth (regurgitated chicken does not taste good the second time going down), and do it in a gym or on carpeting - I only smashed my knee off the ceramic tile twice during the lunge jumps.

Thank you to Alwyn Cosgrove for the finisher.

Study effects

I have a problem. I'm addicted to fresh cilantro. So much so, that I've begun garnishing everything I eat, short of my oatmeal....to the point where I've started eating eggs for breakfast instead of oatmeal so I can have cilantro. And ohmigod I think I need to keep earplugs in until I write my exams because seriously, if I turn my head the wrong way some small miniscule detail that could be vital to answering a question just might fall out. And did you know that cilantro goes with everything?

This is the kind of spaced out crackhead thinking that results from barely leaving a 6x6 cell for the last 4 days straight. I wonder what I'll sound like in 4 more days.....

A night on the town

Finally, some photos of last night's party before we went out (it was the evening portion of Sandblast - the biggest party of the semester).


oops I guess some of us forgot to put our guns up....
Charlie's Angels/crazy med students?

Path tourette's

Part of our pathology course involves a lab 3 days a week, in which we present slides of different diseased states of organs and tissues. With every slide, there are specific details to look for, clinical signs and symptoms that a patient is likely to present with, and the mechanism by which this disease develops. I’ve noticed throughout medical school, that whenever we’re given slides/pictures to recognize, if they can be deduced to resembling some sort of food, it’s supposed to help us remember. But, it has also bred a med school syndrome cleverly coined by a fellow group member as “path tourette’s”. Now, when we see certain slides or read key points that may refer to a visual of the disease, instead of properly identifying the problem or organism causing the disease, some of us begin to inappropriately blurt out the food item instead. So yesterday's microbiology lab went a little like this:
Key words from clinical description: HIV patient, bibasilar crackles, with diffuse interstitial infiltrate.
My answer: Cotton candy! Cotton candy!
Appropriate answer: Pneumocystis jirovecki

That’s what I meant to say, but it was the path tourette’s that made me blurt out the first response (the interstitial infliltrate in the lung resulting from infection with this fungus apparently looks like pink cotton candy).

Just as only a mother can comprehend what her 2 year old child is saying, we all understand each other when one of us gets a tic every now and then.

1 more reason to train

This past semester a friend of mine has been teaching me a few skills on the punching bag - mostly just proper techniques for different punches and kicks, but I've also learned a few self defense moves. I’ve really enjoyed it for more than just the sheer pleasure I get out of contact sport. It has also improved my balance, flexibility and anaerobic endurance. I can definitely say that once I’m back in Canada/US I would be interested in taking some martial arts classes. The reason why I’m writing about this, is because I never want to have to depend on a man to protect me from physical danger, and that in the event that something were to happen, I want to feel confident that I could defend myself. Any male that can’t control his physical aggression in conveying negative emotions to a female, needs the shit kicked out him until his guts herniate out of his rectum (all the better if its by the female he bullied in the first place).

Death of the toaster oven.

It occurred to me that you were all well overdue for a serving of CHEESE. Click here if you missed the first side of cheese before reading onward.

It happened just the other day,
your red light would not go on.
And no matter how well I took care of you,
I never thought that you’d be gone.

I remember all the times we had,
the chicken, the veggies, the roasts.
And to think that you were ruined for me,
with synthetic food and toast.

Oh the agony I’ll feel once more,
to return to the plain black pan.
My zest for creation was lost with you,
my palate will again be bland.

I know you left before your time,
with so much more to bake.
Although I’ll have to admit,
You never could cook steak.

I’ll never forget what you’ve done for me.
All the inspiration you brought.
I wish I was there for your untimely demise,
‘till the death I would’ve fought.

La(m)b

One of the classes we have this semester is advanced clinical skills, in which we are beginning to learn all of the different standard physical examinations. We’re divided into groups of 7 people, and we crowd into a tiny cubicle which has an ‘examining table’. And so twice a week we have lab sessions in which we poke and prod each other, trying to train our crude senses. As the labs have progressed, we’ve targeted people for their ‘special-ness’ to practice the clinical exams we’ve learned. We’ve been lucky to have a person with an regularly irregular pulse rhythm, as well as some interesting heart sounds (bradycardia with skipped beats). Apparently my pupils are large which has allowed my untrained group members to actually follow vessels around in my eyes (I’ve only been blinded a few times), and the older guy in our group is always eager to whip off his shirt whenever required. The other component is properly reporting our findings….this was the best one I’ve heard so far:
“There is evidence of nasal hair providing patient protection”…..lol, even the tutor laughed.

Tonight I got to visit the University Club, which is exclusively reserved for faculty and staff of SGU (it helps to know the right people). The restaurant was beautiful, and the food was phenomenal. The chef is actually the husband of our microbiology professor (so you know that the proper precautions are taken in food preparation). Of course after last week's dinner, I couldn’t help but indulge in perfectly seared lamb.

Now this is decadance

My green-eyed monster

Living with females is not always easy (not for the obvious reasons). This semester I live with two pint-sized Asians, who both probably have an easier time clothes shopping in children’s stores. So every now and then I am compelled to curse my ancestral nomad genetics (my legs could walk thousands of miles with what they store), and my Serbian fighting-nation genes (I can build muscle faster than some guys I know).
Consciously it doesn’t bother me, as most of the time I feel content with my shape. My fitness goals have evolved from just numbers and percentages, to overall feelings and challenges to improve strength, flexibility, and endurance. I have also become increasingly aware (anal) of what I put into my body to attain the healthiest version of myself. Generally I love fresh, healthy food and finding new ways to combine them together.

So it’s frustrating for me to watch these two tiny girls eat these deliciously addictive foods such as cookies, chocolate, candy, chips, white rice, noodles, anything fried, etc on a daily basis because:
a) I know from experience that as soon as I begin to eat the refined carbs and processed foods my metabolism goes into turtle speed, my sugar tolerance goes way up, and chemically I am imbalanced which affects my energy levels and outward perceptions (Gollum thoughts as I like to call them).
b) Omigod, do you know some of the havoc this stuff wreaks on your organs and tissues? Ack! Doesn’t anyone think about their arteries, bone density, pancreas, or liver???
c) I really have to bust my ass in the gym (99% of the time I absolutely love), but on the days I have to kick my own butt out the door I wish I could temporarily de-couple my electron transport chain (sorry that was a nerdy biochem comment on my part).

So when I start behaving as many females do (comparing themselves to everything else!) I remind myself that my body is strong and healthy, I feel happy, and I’ve got some good things to look forward to – who else can brag their mommy has a 6-pack?

My hero

The dorms that we live in are 100% concrete. What this means is that every time someone in the next room, or directly above lazily drags out their chair, or walks around in say – heels, 99% of the time, you can hear it….and it’s annoying. So yesterday, while studying, there was a knock on the door. The voice was that of a nice young gentleman, kindly requesting the girl who wears heels all the time to please wear flip-flops in the dorm, as he and his roommates are having a hard time concentrating from all the noise. YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!! Thank you to the guy who lives below us, you are my hero.

***if you are wondering why I didn’t make a similar request I do not have the time nor understanding to explain the complicated sensitivity of how some females perceive things from other females, and the possible ramifications that could have resulted.

Untitled

Every now and then, a week will go by, and I have no stories or observations – basically nothing interesting to write about. Classes are going well, but exhaustingly busy. I love what we’re learning, even though some of it is painful to sit through. So when I get a bit of writer’s block, or do not have a fluffy reflection I start to write in stupid. I have quite a collection of just odd musings that could be referred to as the “uncut, uncensored, and fundamentally strange to read about”. The following post is one of those moments.

How to make Mondays more enjoyable.

The beginning of the week. The dread of all the work that lies in front of you. It’s not so much the work I dread, it’s the prospect of having to sit in class and lab for hours on end. So how do you make my Mondays more enjoyable? You pick a day later on in the week and put the most unenjoyable thing you can think of on that day. Eventually, if you psych yourself out enough for the dreaded day you can start experiencing psychosomatic tendendies – ie stomach cramps (I haven’t psyched myself out that much about it – but its possible). So every Thursday I dread getting up, putting on my running shoes and going outside under the hot beating sun. Thursday are sprinting days – not jogging, or running, but flat out timed sprints. Although the self inflicted pain usually only takes 20 min. to complete, it is often followed by profuse sweating, extreme shortness of breath (the one with exaggerated sounds), and sometimes nausea, dizziness, and cramping (depending on how hot it is). Anyways, mid-semester the Thursday dread starts to wear off as the sprinting becomes more routine, so to keep the positive outlook for Mondays, I change to hill sprints, which have always carried me through till the end of the semester.Unfotunately since this post, I had to switch sprinting to Tuesdays….so Mondays suck even more now.

If you think that post was bad, you’re lucky I didn’t put the one up describing the grossness of the casein protein I was taking last semester.

Anyways, last night a group of us were treated to the ‘popular vegetarian restaurant’ which was very nice and flavourful. But, as a passionate carnivore (although I haven't had red meat since I've been down here) I thought it was way overhyped – somehow a dish of curried chickpeas just doesn’t have the same effect as a perfectly seared rack of lamb.

And yes, the amount of studying we do makes us only a little crazy.

My first blood

On Friday night I was asked to help out with health fair training. I instructed people at the glucose testing station, but there were stations on how to take blood pressure, do breast exams, eye and ear tests, and phlebotomy (and no, it has nothing to do with a lobotomy). So, after the people began to pan out, I decided to go take a crash course in drawing blood. I first practiced on a dummy arm which seemed easy enough (they even had fake blood that would fill the tube if you did it correctly). Then two of my pathology group members generously offered their veins to me (I made a mental note to bake them something). The first thought that came to mind was how I wished I could somehow practice on myself instead of having to hurt someone else. But then I remembered how I cannot stand seeing my own blood (I figured this out after accidentally dropping a knife onto my foot, and saw my blood pooling on the floor). So…..I tied the tourniquet onto my first volunteer, and crudely palpated for her veins…..they felt a lot deeper than my veins…..oh well, I guess the needle will have to go a little deeper. I drew a pen line over where I thought it was…..swabbed the area…..then proceeded to insert the needle. Apparently I didn’t go deep enough. Nothing - I didn’t even get her to bleed from the needle pick (damn – I was hoping to be a ‘one stick wonder’). I didn’t have it in my heart to stab her again (she’s such a happy person). The next set of veins offered to me were definitely more attractive….I could work with these. The first time (yes I’m afraid to say I had to stick her twice), I uncapped the 21-gauge needle and slowly stuck it into her arm (you’re not supposed to be slow about it because it will hurt more). Again, I was unsuccessful – at least she bled a little from where I had put the needle in. Then, they brought me over a butterfly needle – which is apparently smaller, easier to learn on, and hurts less (geez people, why do we have to make things painfully difficult!). Finally, on my third try I almost got everything right. I successfully penetrated the vein and drew my first blood. Unfortunately, I got so excited about finally getting some, I prematurely withdrew the needle before I undid the tourniquet. Oops.