rabbi essrog

there was a lecture this morning on surgical treatment of chronic pelvic pain. during this lecture cartoons and pictures were interspersed with didactic slides.* text from these deliberate digressions were read out loud. one resident, his shoes on the armrest of the chair in front of him, bit his nails, flipped through papers, and intermittently grabbed his crotch. another resident flipped her hair, ate a yogurt parfait, and teased the tie of her friend’s surgical cap.

here they are. they talk about justin timberlake. they abandon you in the hallway. they make fun of obesity. they discuss alcohol consumption. they slap attendings on the back and refer to “the little ones.” these are the people i have heard about. the bungling. the rude. the apathetic. will the bland humor, crude manner, and unpardonable narcissism of this rotation hammer me into submission? is there a whiff of kindheartedness, poise, or satisfaction to be found?

there are thirty days of obstetrics and gynecology remaining.

*sign reading “A Street Downtown” is displayed. lecturer asserts that “ha…while we all might figure out that this sign refers to the a street and not just a street downtown in general, we do need accurate signage and mapping…not just when we are driving, but also when we are dealing with chronic pelvic pain.”

“let’s go. we might be able to buy chris ware decoder rings.”

pediatrics is over. obstetrics and gynecology has begun. i have not taken it well. mootin has tried to lessen the sting of stirrup-ed legs, vaginal discharge, and unreceptive residents. there was the boutique hotel room with plump, handmade biscuits for the lu:

(later that night, the lu vomited.)

there was the pink ipod shuffle:

(will this sweet gadget ever meet the gym?)

and then…the colossal…the unsoiled…the very very fast:

(thank you, thank you!)

charlotte’s web in simplified chinese

zed came to rochester this weekend.

zed, the sir, the dark angel, mootin and i ate dim sum for dinner early on friday night. zed lost her wallet late on friday night. we ate dim sum for lunch on saturday afternoon. we ate pizza logs and buffalo chicken salad for dinner on saturday night. we filed police reports early on sunday morning. we ate dim sum for lunch on sunday afternoon.

we reminisced about many departed sundays which included dim sum at shanghai chinese restaurant and party house, glazed doughnuts from krispy kreme, tv, and napping. we wistfully recalled this more gentle and illusory era before offering hugs and scuttling off to adult duties.

i permitted myself to skip the gym guilt free today due to the upcoming pediatrics shelf exam. instead of doing practice questions as planned i shopped for bags online, vacuumed the downstairs, and watched the daily show. i am unfazed. i am full of dim sum.

puppy bowl

a full fat weekend of being mootin’s roadie guilted me into scheduling gym time and steamed vegetables for monday evening. instead of this planned detoxification i watched scrubs, took a nap, and ate pesto pasta takeout and cookies for dinner.

it is too cold to go to the grocery store. the downstairs is ever less alluring with its glacial concrete floors, lack of provisions, and insufficient sealing. the inside of the front door is icy:

the lu and i will make a fort amidst high thread count cotton and down while we wait for mootin to return from pennsylvania.

“the first thing to do is find the asian student association and see where they have their mixers.”

there was no time for sunday depression this weekend because mootin had two concerts and the sir came to visit. i felt tender and cozy due to ample medical school classmate support for friday night’s performance:

after the concert, we ate lobster corn dogs and mussels:

saturday…more eating:

sunday…another concert…more eating:

all cavorting ends here. it is four degrees outside. i have to go to the gym tomorrow. no more guitar. no more shrimp.

magic crazy bars

it is probably somehow racist/bigoted/racialist/prejudiced that four days of pediatrics in a primarily hispanic clinic have made me yearn for carnitas, corn tortillas, pupusas and pozole soup more ardently than ever before. as families and i work to understand each other through gestures and facial expression i sense an unexploited database of specifics about undersized, veiled eateries that i would look forward to patronizing every weekend. mom after dad after grandmother after mom comes and goes…we discuss eczema, formula choice, conjunctivitis, sleeping position, sinusitis…we never discuss tamales, guacamole, chorizo. in addition to this culinary covetousness outpatient pediatrics has also offered me a compassionate schedule. one hour lunch breaks and lack of call prevent me from excusing or rationalizing…i have re-joined the gym and begun making lunches full of fiber. the inevitable brevity of this righteousness due to upcoming rotations in obstetrics/gynecology and surgery is disappointing and almost enough to halt the wholesome process. i will persist with my elliptical machine and cous-cous for now although i am obliged to spend a majority of this quiescent period mentally mincing impending stressors.

also, i have a cavity.