The Brown-Eyed Monster

It was quite an eventful day in the clinic this afternoon. For those of you who don't know, I've have the priveledge to work in our world class Urology department once a week. Thus far its been a great experience. I have been learning a lot and on top of all of that it has me interested in the field as a possible specialty. But I digress. Today we were swamped, up to ears in patients. I was running fifteen minutes late and turns out I beat the Doctor by five minutes. Yet, nothing out of the ordinary as far as the patients we saw.

But for those unfamiliar with what a "urologist" does, let me fill you in. They help people who can't "pee" or have problems with their kidneys or "unmentionables". Its a subspecialty of surgery, which means they are surgeons. They just don't usually operate as often as other surgeons. All an all, an awesome field if you like surgery, not working 110 hours a week, and the smell of urine.

Anywho, we entered the room of a 92 year old patient. He himself happened to a cardiothoracic surgeon way back in the day (Translation: he's smarter than you and I). He was surprisingly alert for someone his age (obviously a doctor). He suffered from an enlarged prostate (Translation: big prostate makes it hard to pee-pee...you've seen the commercials). He had been on a couple of drugs which has shrunk his prostate but it was still larger than most. I've been in the clinic awhile so I knew the drill. When the doctor gloves up, my job is to squirt some KY Jelly on his finger, then observe. But today was different. Something was wrong with the cosmos, an ardvark farted in Wisconsin, A-Rod contemplated taking a pay-cut, something huge caused the Earth to tilt off its axis and made this day different from all the others...

As you may know the only way to get to the prostate is through the "rear-end", hence the necissity for KY Jelly. Apparently you want to feel a "rubbery" organ (hard masses indicate cancer). I've seen these done a bunch of times, well at least enough so I don't even cringe anymore. But like I said, today was different...today I heard the phrase, "Put some gloves on and go ahead and lube yourself up." GULP.

I was frozen for a split second becuase I couldn't believe the words that just came out of the Doctor's mouth. He proceeded to the tell the patient to drop trow and was about to experience two fingers (at different times of course). The patient seemed unphased and was now staring at me with his one good brown eye. The Doc went first and I followed quickly after with the look on my face that said, "I've done this a million times" when in actually I had no idea what I was feeling for. I was asked if I felt the enlarged prostate and I quickly answered "YES!" while I thought to myself, "I guess it could be enlarged if I only knew what a regular prostate felt like". As we exited the room I B-lined for the sink to wash my hands, just in case the glove had been "structurally compromised" during the exam.

All in all it was a fulfilling experience. It made me feel like a real doctor in a way, even though I had no idea what I was doing (I guess thats some peoples view of doctors anyways). But I have to say if any of you are given the the same situation where you are staring face to face with a Brown-Eyed Monster, I would turn and run for the hills for fingers sake.

Quit Googl-ing Yourself

It was yet another uneventful day of class this morning. Lecturers had nothing impressive or profound to teach, yet I still managed to pay attention. My professionality was not matched however by some of my collegues. D-Rock* and Beez* were up to their same old tricks today. Surfing the web in search of something comical. Then it came...the tap on my shoulder. My attention was now directed towards D-Rocks computer screen as Beez whispered in my ear..."Its You!". Apparently they were correct. I was staring face to face with Mr Ah Jota:



After a quick Google Image Search of my name this is what those two monkeys came up with. Apparently Mr Ah Jota was running for some sort of congressional seat in the UK as a conservative. Obviously, it's the only thing we had in common (being conservative, not a politician).

This got my wheels turning. I wondered which of my closest associates had an alter-ego in existence on the web....

The first person I thought of turned out to be the most comical. Mr Micheala Watsopoplle* (one of my distinguished groomsman from the summer) is apparently wanted in Texas (if you have any more information about him, please contact your local authorities):



And lets just say I'm glad I didn't marry a nurse named The Hunny Bunny*...here is another version of Mrs Ah Jota:



Interestingly enough, when I googled my Brother-in-law Isaacrat*...



I pulled up an actual picture of my actual grandfather-in-law, Isaacrat the Apostle*:



So needless to say, when you think you are alone in this world...you really aren't. Your alter-ego probably exists and is more than likely fleeing the state of Texas for a crime he/she may or may not have committed. And if you can't find your alter-ego on the internet, rest assured that they are out there. They just haven't figured out how to upload an image of themselves to the world wide web yet.

*Names have been changed to protect the innocent, especially since one is awaiting criminal charges if he ever shows up in Texas

Running from Humbleness

Well friends of friends, I've been quite the slacker with this blog as of late. So for those of you who have been crying for my dry sarcastic babel, I'm back. I personally thought I would have plenty of stories to tell after an entire week off from a grueling medical school career, but I was wrong. Last week I basically tried to see how much TV I would be able to take in and avoided human contact (other than my wife's) all together.

Nonetheless, here is one humorous anecdote from the break...it goes as follows:

It had been roughly 3 weeks since the last time I had any physical activity. My days over the past few weeks consisted of meandering in the library, drinking caffeine, and muttering useless movie quotes to myself to keep me motivated (rudy...Rudy...RUdy...RUDy...RUDY...get the picture?). This gave me the great idea to set out on a nice little "jog" around the neighborhood on my first Monday off. One problem I have is I tend to set some pretty high standards for myself and forget to ease my way into physical actviity, especially after my life's longest execise drought. Thus, I poorly chose to circle the ENTIRE neighborhood which made the total distance about 2 miles (wise choice). It started out well, hair flapping in the wind...the whole 9 yards. But as I hit the midway point I began to realize the mistake I had made. My lungs hurt...I mean A LOT. I think it was because they were bleeding and my body was doing just about anything to get me to stop. But you can't stop Ah Jota that easily, I ventured on. As I rounded the 1.5 mile marker my pace had slowed quite a bit but I was determined to make it back to my doorstep. Then it hit me with just about a quater mile left....the unmistakeable urge to BARF! I was now hunched over in the shade behind a tree in some guy's front yard trying to avoid the now inevitable. I took small breaths since one large breath might just give the previous nights dinner a chance of escape. My legs were basically useless at this point, so the idea of "walking it off" wasn't even possible. So I stayed there hunched in the "I was just punched in the stomach" position. But Mexitaliamer's are a tough nut to crack. Yes I reminded myself if Frodo Baggins can carry a stupid little ring, I can suck it up and take the pain. I stood myself up and began staggering home. Though I didn't run home, I reached the front door full of pride because I was able to choke back the unavoidable. I stared the Vomit Comet right in the eye and laughed in its face. I made it home without chundering all over my shoes, which keeps the wife happy and the floor clean. I guess all of us have to humbled every once in awhile. It's too bad that this time it had to be me....