Daddy, I don't feel well. . .

It's official, I don't know anything

2011-12-02T15:07:00.001-05:00

Look, I try to be pretty honest with myself.

I like to think that, sure, I'm not cool. But I'm not actively uncool. Right? And while I don't know what it is like to be a tweenager, I have some idea, some point of reference.

But this morning I was reminded that I just don't know anything.

Our oldest gets up early so she has time to practice her clarinet before leaving for school. The plan is, up at 5:45, practice for 15 minutes (four times a week, to get the required 60 in), then come upstairs and get ready for school.

So this morning, she comes stumbling out of her room at about 5:51. Heads downstairs. I hear the clarinet doing some scales at about 5:57. At 6:03 she is upstairs. So I casually throw out a simple question.

"How long did you practice?"

"Fifteen minutes."

"But you weren't downstairs for 15 minutes."

"It was 15 minutes, I have a timer!"

"Um, you haven't even been out of your room for 15 minutes. It is therefore impossible to have practiced for 15 minutes. I have been awake the entire time and know exactly how long you have been up. It isn't possible for you to have practiced for 15 minutes."

Scowl.

But no admission that I may have, just on the off chance, been right. Gosh I love being a moron.

So close, and yet so far

2011-07-18T15:40:00.000-04:00

This won't be the first time I have mentioned how crazy residency can be. And it certainly isn't meant as a complaint about the residency process. As it is, it isn't to terribly bad, and there is a good chance it is just going to get worse in the coming years, all in an effort to make it "better". But that is an entirely different blog article.

One aspect of residency that can really be painful is the vacation aspect. We get 15 days of vacation a year. I mean, I'm glad I get any days at all, seriously. However, when you only have three weeks, and your family lives 2000+ miles away, it is amazing how fast those days are gobbled up just trying to be part of the family.

Take last year, for instance. We had one trip back to Utah planned in October to run the Layton Marathon with my father. That was an awesome trip. However, between two other trips for weddings, *poof* there went my three weeks.

This often translates into not doing much around here where we are. In fact, in the past, we have only really had one family vacation where we went and did something up here in New England, and that was back in the summer of 2008 (and one other brief trip to Maine for our anniversary a couple of years ago, but that was just Lis and I). So that means that, despite only being 6 1/2 hours away from Palmyra, we have never been to the Hill Cumorah Pageant.

Don't they revoke your temple recommend for that?

We knew this was our last summer here in New England. We determined we simply had to go to New York before we left. So finally this past week we made it. We went to Palmyra, then over to Niagara Falls and home by way of Lake Champlain and Burlington.

All in all it was a great trip, and something I am very glad we were able to do. It is just sad that some of these things can be so close geographically, yet so far away due to time constraints. More articles will be forthcoming about the trip.

I'm that kid. . .

2011-05-11T16:11:00.000-04:00

Disclaimer: This is not a pity post. I'm not asking for, nor looking for your pity. In fact, I don't want it. I don't need it. Please take it elsewhere. This is simply an observation, some thoughts, and acceptance on my part.

I started running for real on Thanksgiving Day, 2009. I had done some running before that. My father used to get me up at 5 in the morning when I was in Junior High to go jogging with him. I did some running in medical school. But then I sort of stopped. Something changed that November morning and I went and ran about 5 miles, a new record distance for me.

Since that time I have continued to run, though with varying degrees of success at different times. Last year was great up until the marathon in October. Then I sort of slipped, was really tired (ya know, residency will do that to you) and didn't do great. But we signed up for a half-marathon and I had some motivation again. It was great to remember again just how good it feels to go out and move across the earth.

Our half-marathon was this past Saturday. My wife and her friend did really great. They were faster than me by far (no surprise), and even faster than they thought they would be. I was super excited she did so well. But I honestly had some difficulty with her congratulating me and being proud for me as well. I mean, she ran it well and fast. I just ran it. Then the metaphor hit me. I realized what kind of runner I am.

I'm sure we all know that one kid on the sports team. Pick your sport, it doesn't really matter. Let's go with basketball for sake of this blog, since I like basketball the most. But there is always that one kid on the team. He enjoys playing, but is just not good. He scores occasionally, but will never make the winning basket. He has a few assists, but more often than not either gets picked off or just throws it away when trying to pass. And he dribbles off his own foot as often as he does the floor.

His mommy and daddy are proud of him because he is "there". He's playing his hardest, despite the fact that, frankly, he sucks. In fact, the team would be better off if he wasn't there, but no one has the heart to tell him that. He just doesn't realize how bad he is, and that he is never going to be good at basketball. Everyone just cheers because they are decent people and sort of feel sorry for him. Fortunately for him, he just hears the cheers, and doesn't care.

I'm that kid.

I'll go out and run. I'll do okay, but I will never win a race, never win my age division, and will just constantly "finish" whatever race I enter. And as I cross that finish line, there will be people cheering for me. The only problem is, unlike that kid on the basketball court, blissfully ignorant, I know I'm that kid. I know that, without mincing words, I kind of suck.

But I have accepted that. So I will just continue to run, even though I kind of suck at it.

Would you like fries with that?

2011-04-13T16:46:00.000-04:00

I love my job. Really. I promise I do.

Some days, though, I just don't feel up to it. Today is one of those days. I'm not sure why I feel that way. It could just be pre-call weekend depression setting in (it's a real thing, I swear!), maybe it is because I am feeling a bit overwhelmed by having to deal with our new EMR this weekend, having been gone since the "go live" date. Maybe it is just because I don't feel that I performed as well as I would have liked in the OR today.

Whatever it is, there are some days when I just really wish the toughest thing I had to deal with at work was asking the tough question, "Would you like fries with that?"

Oh that it were only so simple. But just some days. Just days like today.

Why do we have. . .

2011-04-12T19:18:00.000-04:00

Dinner can be a great time of the day. As my parents taught me, and as we have tried to do in our own family, dinner is a specific time in which other things do not intrude. Cell phones are kept put away, everybody sits down together, and we try to talk to each other.

I do feel it is an important time.

Sometimes, this also leads to some funny, funny moments. Such as tonight.

We were sitting there, having dinner, when Alex asked a simple question. We were having a finger food meal. No utensils necessary. But we had forks, just in case. Suddenly Alex turned to us all and asked "We do we even have forks?"

Elissa's explanation was very thorough. "Well, sometimes when we eat, we swallow some extra air down into our stomachs. This builds up, then eventually needs to be released. When it does, it comes out as a burp."

The look on Alex's face was priceless. Confusion, mixed with amusement as he looked fixedly at the fork.

That was when I pointed out that he had asked why we had forks, not burps. Awesome.

Dusting myself off

2011-04-12T15:42:00.000-04:00

This last week I had to write something.

It wasn't something long. It wasn't something creative. I fact, it was just pretty dry regurgitation of some number crunching. You know, a few p values, a little M&M (Materials and Methods). Yeah, I had to write and abstract.

It was hard. Really hard. Fortunately, it turned out well and I was able to submit it. But it was a moment of realization.

I realized that, just as with anything else in life, if you don't do something, if you get out of practice, it becomes tough when the heat is on. Something which had previously been pretty easy for me, writing, was suddenly really tough. Now, some of that was due to the nature of the project, the need to be technical, precise and concise (after all, I do tend to be verbose).

But a lot was due to the simple fact I haven't been writing anything with regularity. I hope to rectify that.

And a "New Moon" rises

2010-06-04T13:44:00.000-04:00

"You have not idea how tight I'm bound." - Jacob Black

"I have to go." - Bella Swan

There is a beauty to those quotes up there. They perfectly encapsulate the acting range of the stars of the hit New Moon. Some may have seen that I posted on Monday night that my wife and I were going to watch New Moon. We did. It was amazing.

What was most amazing was just how constipated all the actors were. I mean, really. Bella frequently clutched her abdomen as if she was in agony, as waves of bowel spasms racked her poor tortured body. Anyone who knows will tell you that our emotional well being and our physical well being are intimately tied together. I really feel bad for Edward, Jacob and Bella. Even after Jacob admits to being "tightly bound" he doesn't seem to get any relief. One would think that wolves keep things moving through. I suppose not.

Then you have vampires. I get that they are backed up. All that iron and no roughage, it just isn't good for you. So Edward has an excuse for the fact that his only facial expression is one of severe constipation. I can sympathize. Let me just say, when I was taking the narcs for my kidney stone, I reached a point when the back-upedness was worse than the stone. TMI, probably, but there you go.

While watching the movie, I just hit a point though when I ran out of steam. I did well through the first 2/3, making wise cracks for just about everything. But I couldn't keep it up. The constant rictus of agony on the faces of the principals in the movie got to me. No one could act like that all the time and not have some serious bowel issues.

My Rx for Eclipse? Metamucil with Miralax chasers. Maybe they will actually look human then.

It's called a "butt swirly"

2010-05-30T20:58:00.000-04:00

On an almost daily basis, we are reminded just how different boys are from girls. Our oldest two are beautiful girls, and raising them has certainly led to some interesting moments. But nothing compares to what our oldest son has come up with.

A week or so ago I was explaining to the children what a number of childhood torture techniques were. You know, the classics: wet willie, Indian burn, purple nurple, dead arm, mule bite, swirly. Along with each name, I had to explain, in some detail, what the technique involved.

Tonight, Alex was getting ready for his shower. We heard him yelling something from the bathroom. Not mad or upset, just yelling. I went in to the bathroom to see what was going on. There he was, stark raving naked, sitting on the toilet. Only, he wasn't really sitting on the toilet. He was sitting IN the toilet. The toilet seat was up and he had his hind end fully in the water.

What was he yelling? "Butt swirly, butt swirly, butt swirly!"

He looked at me, completely serious as he tried to reach behind him to flush the toilet "I'm just trying to give myself a butt swirly, to wash the poop right down the toilet!"

Seriously? Seriously.

Coffee must hate cups

2010-04-28T13:01:00.001-04:00

I have a theory. Here it is. Brace yourself, cause this is big.

Coffee hates cups.

Seriously. I believe it can't stand the thought of being confined into this small cardboard/plastic/metal/ceramic container. Like Freddy Mercury, coffee just wants "to break free".

I mean, why else would it be spilled more than any other beverage I have ever seen?

While I don't imbibe alcohol, I have been to concerts and sporting events at which alcohol was being freely sold and consumed. Sure, there were some spills. But nothing like freaking coffee. And heck, at least those people had the excuse that they may have been a few drinks in and were carrying their beverages amidst large crowds.

No, I don't drink coffee either, so I may not fully understand this phenomenon. I am, however, surrounded by regular coffee drinkers. Like every day, many times a day. Such is medicine, right? Every day I see someone with fresh coffee stains on their white coat. Every day I see spilled coffee in puddles on the floor, or stains on the carpet. I see my colleagues reaching for the paper towel to wipe the coffee off their hands before it gets on their clothes.

I am a water drinker. Sometimes I will also have a glass of milk. But I don't usually spill those beverages on me. Sure, everyone has the rare spill, but nothing like I see with coffee. Is it because it is hot? Is it a secret coffee drinker only sign? Is a ritualistic? Does it make the coffee taste better?

There has to be some explanation, because otherwise, I just don't get it.

The price of experience

2010-04-26T15:55:00.000-04:00

Plane ticket from SLC to NC: $250
Medical degree from private medical school: $Lots
Live experience from those four years: Priceless

I had an interesting discussion with a physician in clinic a bit ago. He is a very intelligent, very well respected physician here, and he and I have discussed our families before. He was talking about convincing his college age children to choose state schools over private institutions.

His main talking point was financial. And he brings up a very good point. My wife and I both went to a state university, graduated with (in my opinion at least) great educations, and with absolutely no educational debt. That last part was a huge blessing.

When it came time for medical school, I had a similar choice. I could have stayed close to home and gone to the University of Utah. It is a good medical school and the tuition certainly would have been less. The competing option was Duke. After some serious reflection, discussion and prayer, we chose Duke.

Due to that choice, I have, to be quite honest, sizable educational debt. That debt would have been much less had we chosen otherwise. And my education would have been comparable (no matter what the Dukies may say).

But the experience would not have been the same.

Of course, I am just guessing. Perhaps I am rationalizing to ease the pain of the student loans. This I know: had we stayed at the University of Utah, we would have relied heavily on family. I love our families. They are wonderful. But I think that, as a family, we are stronger than we would have been because we have been without them.

In North Carolina, our church group became our family. We had to build strong friendships and learn to rely on ourselves and our friends, rather than being able to run to family. That growth is something I just don't think you can put a price tag on.

Ultimately, I also don't think I would be where I am at this time. I had very different plans when I started medical school as to what I wanted to do professionally. The change really was due to people I met at Duke. You just can't discount that.

In the end, money is just that: money. But experience, well, that you can take with you.

Star Wars: watching it again for the first time

2010-04-22T17:25:00.000-04:00

I was only one when Star Wars was released. I honestly don't remember my first time watching it. However, the legacy has lasted my lifetime thus far. I clearly remember the shock of the revelation of Empire Strikes Back.

Since that time, I have read books, played games, watched movies (even a mere 2 days after my first child was born!) and had a blast with the Star Wars universe. It has been even more fun to see my children discovering the world of Star Wars. They have played many of the major scenes of the movies in Lego Star Wars: The Complete Saga.

Alex, in particular, has embraced Star Wars. This certainly has something to do with his friend's love. For his recent birthday, a friend gave him a lightsaber, and it has barely left his hands since that day.

However, none of my children have actually seen Star Wars or any of the other movies in the saga. They are familiar with characters, some of the events, but they haven't ever experienced Star Wars the way I experienced it: through the original movies. The reasons are many, but mostly because I haven't been sure they were both old enough and interested enough.

Tonight I shall rectify this. Alex has been so fascinated by Star Wars that, after thinking about it, I decided he is old enough. I told him as much earlier this week and the light in his eyes was priceless. So we set a date: Thursday night.

On the way home from work, I picked up the DVD (I have the "Special-Han-Will-Always-Shoot-First-No-Matter-What-Lucas-Thinks-Edition" on VHS, but never have picked up the original trilogy on DVD) from the video rental store. As I walked through the door, I showed him the case. He literally started bouncing off the walls with excitement, clutching the case to his chest.

Should be fun. It will be like watching it all again for the first time.

An anachronism in the wild: Old school Walkman

2010-04-21T13:14:00.000-04:00

The year was 1988. I was 12. For a few years I had used a huge, white Crown cassette player. This thing was pretty basic. It had no radio, no sound enhancement of any kind. There was no auto-reverse. Instead of a belt clip, this monster had a black strap so you could hang it around your neck (like a millstone). It also required 4 AA batteries, which went on the bottom so this thing was much larger than a cassette tape.

But I played the heck out of it. It serviced me well. Time moves on though, and this just wasn't going to last. Christmas, 1988. Santa brings me the WM-AF64. This was top of the line. Auto-reverse at the tap of a button, Sony's proprietary Mega Bass sound enhancement, AM/FM radio with three presets as well (these were analog, not digital so you never lost them when the batteries ran out). It also had a screw on belt clip, ran on 2 AA batteries and looked sexy.

I loved this thing. I used it every day for years, and it withstood all that heavy use. It would be replaced in 1994 by my first Discman, the D-33. This, too, had Mega Bass and was billed as a "car" discman, meaning it was mounted on suspensors to try to limit the skipping. It was also a beast. Huge, thick, and a bit of a battery hog. But it played me sweet, sweet music. Years later I would finally retire this (after being married and having one kid!) in favor of the D-SJ15, a Sports branded discman that had buffering, was watertight and had a handy strap to use while running. In fact, I still have this discman buried in a drawer in my room.

But as we all know, technology advances. Time stands still for no one. I finally jumped on the iPod bandwagon in 2006 with a 5th generation 30 GB model. While I still have and use that iPod, the most commonly used is my 3rd generation iPod Nano (the best model in terms of form IMO). I love it and use it every day. And even then, I recognize that I am a few years behind the times.

So imagine my shock as, while driving home from work the other day, I saw a women getting ready to go for a walk outside. She appeared to be planning on exercising, wearing athletic shoes and shorts. She put some headphones on, then I saw her reach to her waist and push play on a huge, white Walkman style cassette player.

I was aghast.

Honestly, I don't even have any cassette tapes anymore. I did, for years, but have no idea what happened to them or when they were left by the wayside. Heck, my CDs basically only exist long enough for me to rip them to my computer then they go downstairs into storage. Yet here this woman was, embracing technology from 1962, carrying at most 120 minutes of music in that bulky box. And here I sit with 881 songs, totaling who knows how many hours, in a device smaller than a credit card and barely as thick as a couple sticks of gum.

My how the times have changed. Though I cannot deny getting a little nostalgic for the tape hiss at the beginning of Europe's The Final Countdown, especially the start of "Cherokee" on side B. Man I played the heck out of that tape.

Avatar: on coming late to the party

2010-04-19T21:27:00.000-04:00

I am a science fiction fan. I wouldn't go so far as to say I am a nut. I mean, I have never been to any type of convention, so that has to bump me a notch or two in the normal direction. At least I so delude myself.

Nevertheless, I like sci-fi movies, books, games, etc. I also am easily amused by flashing lights and showy graphics. So, given both of those aspects, I should have been seeing "Avatar" with my polarized lenses on day one, right?

Not so.

Enter geography. I live in the Upper Valley, this little pocket in New Hampshire and Vermont right on the Connecticut River. It is a great place to raise a family. Low crime rates, good schools, safe neighborhoods and top quality medical care (I am probably biased in that last regard, but hey, what ya gonna do). It is also a great place if you like spending time outdoors in nature.

It is not a great place if you like easy access to entertainment. True, we have a theater in Lebanon and one in Hanover. Both have small screens, with weak sound systems that are easily topped by the home theater set up your friend has (or maybe even you have). The Nugget (the Hanover theater) sets itself apart though by being clean, and catering somewhat to the art-house theater crowd that Ivy League schools are bound to attract.

The Lebanon house-o-crap, on the other hand, is run-down, dirty, and so ghetto that the marquee does not have a single full movie title on it. In fact, they don't even give each movie its own line. For example, a month or two ago the movies "Diary of a Wimpy Kid" and "Shutter Island" were sharing a line, and became the new (and much more interesting sounding movie IMO) "Wimpy Island". I'd see that, thank you very much.

Yet, they still charge $8/ticket. I'm pretty selective of what I will go see there. Or I'm just selective of when I will go see a movie there (ie. we have a babysitter and then will go just so we can actually go on a date). "Avatar" was, of course, showing there, but I had no desire to pay $16 for a poor experience. The closest decent theater is south in Hookset, and they were showing it in 3D there. Some friends said is was awesome. But that is 90 minutes away, one direction. Figure out the babysitting for that one with a 4-5 month old (at the time it was released). 180 minutes both directions with a 150 minute movie, plus some buffer time and you have a 360 minute affair. Right, like that was going to happen.

So I figured if I was going to see "Avatar", I would just as soon pay $3 to rent it for a subpar experience if my only real option was to see it at the Lebanon Ghetto 6 (not its official title, but the one I have loving bequeathed it).

Enter vacation. Guess what? There is an IMAX 3D theater in Myrtle Beach. Oh, and they are still showing "Avatar". And we had built in babysitting since we were there with my in-laws. How could I pass that up? Well, I couldn't, so I didn't.

So here is the part I actually talk about the movie. If you made it this far, good on you.

In a nutshell, Avatar was a blast. Sure, the story is one big freaking cliche. It isn't original, it is very predictable, and it ends pretty much how you knew it was going to (unless, I suppose, you were lobotomized or something). But you know what? It was still beautiful to watch and a thoroughly enjoyable spectacle. I have to give it to James Cameron, the 3D aspect of it was fabulously done.

Unlike other 3D attempts, this didn't feel forced. I didn't feel that they were constantly reminding me this was in 3D. Sure, there were scenes that showcased that better than others, but they felt like natural parts of the movie. After a while, I actually forgot I was wearing ridiculous glasses and watching something gimmicky, it just seemed natural. The CGI was still certainly CGI. But it was very, very good CGI. The aliens looked amazing. Very expressive and emotive. And the fact that they were aliens helped avoid the whole uncanny valley problem.

As I said, the story was nothing to get excited about. But that wasn't the reason to see this movie. It was all about spectacle. And that was delivered in droves. Maybe, when done well at least, there is something to this 3D technology.

Writings are hard!

2010-04-19T09:25:00.000-04:00

As my second daughter would say: "Oh brilliant."

Not even a full week in to my "experiment" to blog daily, I miss a freaking day. And it wasn't even as if I was too busy. I just forgot. Now granted, I was spending the day getting 60+ GB of music tagged appropriately so iTunes (oh how I hate you!) wouldn't choke on it. Then again, my iTunes hate is a full blog article on its own.

Nevertheless, here it is, Monday morning, and I realized no blog article on Sunday. Curses, curses, curses, I've been foiled again.

So how about two today? Maybe? I'll see if I am struck with inspiration sufficient to produce another article. Yes, that means this one counts. It's an article, right? Ya wanna fight me about it? I didn't think so. I tell ya, some day, writings are hard.

Heading home

2010-04-16T08:31:00.000-04:00

Heading home is always a mixed bag. On the one hand, I am looking forward to sleeping in my own bed, being able to make meals in our own kitchen, and just being around our own stuff.

However, as I look out the balcony window at the waves of the Atlantic crashing against the shore, I can't help but feel some sadness and remorse. This has been a great week. We have been able to play together, reconnect with family, and just relax in a way that isn't possible at home, even when not working.

I suppose the vacation isn't over yet, though.

We get a 9 1/2 hour drive today (past DC), and a 7 1/2 hour drive tomorrow (through NY). Let the good times roll.

Project 260

2010-04-15T19:52:00.000-04:00

Look, I am the first to admit I am not a great writer. I would like to be better, though. One of the most common recommendations to become a better writer is to write.

Sounds easy, no?

Nevertheless, I have really struggled in the writing department as of late. As my brother and I are working to reinvigorate our music blog I feel the need to up my game a little. Thus begins my 260 day project. There is nothing magical about 260. It just happens to be the number of days left in the year. Yeah, I started a bit late.

I will write a blog article at least once a day in an effort to become a better writer. Some will be trash, of that I am sure. Hopefully amongst the throw-away articles, something decent will emerge.

Back in action

2010-04-04T07:01:00.000-04:00

Yes, I have let this slide a bit. I will try to do better. Perhaps a shiny new theme will inspire me.

February wasn't a really great month for me on the running front. I managed to go, but not very often. I was in a funk. It wasn't something I looked forward to. March was better. I managed to get in some good, long runs. Sadly, April isn't starting off to great. Hopefully I can remedy that this week.

Next week will also, hopefully be a good one. We are actually going on vacation! I know, how crazy is that. Thanks to my in-laws, we will be spending 5 days in Myrtle Beach, SC. We will be staying at the Dunes Resort, and honestly, if you ever have a chance to go there, take it. Indoor water parks, right on the beach, it is a blast. Should get some nice runs in the morning. Maybe even a run or two on the beach.

I have also been determined to get my music blog collaboration with my brother back up and running. I wouldn't pretend that we are somehow skilled music critics. However, we do love music and are articulate enough to write what I hope are insightful reviews. Feel free to stop by and bookmark us. Hopefully this can reinvigorate my blogging overall.

Losing myself

2009-12-19T13:01:00.001-05:00

I managed 10.5 miles this morning. Kept my pace about the same as it has been. It was ridiculously cold (3 degrees F), but once I got going, it felt great. I am beginning to think I just might be as crazy as people keep telling me I am.

Needless to say, over the course of the past few months I have been pretty regular with the exercise. I have been doing some resistance training along with the running. And I am finally starting to notice some results. My pants are getting quite baggy. Particularly through the legs. This is unusual for me, as I have always had beefy legs.

So, I decided to break out the tape measure and see what was going on. Here are some comparisons to this summer.

I have lost 20 lbs

I have lost 2.5 inches in my waist

I have lost 3 inches in my chest

I have lost 3 inches in my hips

I have lost 3 inches from EACH thigh

Slowly, but surely, I am losing myself. I think I like this.

Meet Captain Ice Beard!

2009-12-12T15:15:00.002-05:00

Another Saturday. This means time for another long run. After the success of last week's endeavor, I decided to push a bit more this week. It helps that I have a wonderful wife who is so supportive.

So the plan for the day was 9 miles. For the record, that would be the farthest I have ever run. At once, of course.

Last night, though, the temperature was in a bit of a downward spiral. The wind was blowing and what started out in the 30s was quickly approaching the bottom half of the 20s, with a threat for a continued downward trend. I have this awesome clock that projects onto the ceiling. It syncs the time automatically from the atomic clock in Colorado, so it is always correct. And it connects to a remote thermometer that I have placed outside in the back of the house.

Last night, as I was going to bed, the temperature was 22 F. Hmm. Chilly. But I was determined.

So the alarm goes off. I gaze at the ceiling. 12 F.

Are you freaking kidding me? That is like -10 C! That ain't right. Freaking New England. Freaking snow. Freaking winter. I could still be wearing shorts in North Carolina. Argh.

But I really wanted to go. So up and at 'em. I did wait until the sky started to lighten, so that at some point during the run the sun would actually rise. I layered. It worked. Mostly.

My face was incredibly cold for the first mile or so, but by then I was starting to warm up and I was beginning to sweat. A few more miles down and I was sweating in earnest. But it was too cold to evaporate. So what does it do? It freezes. On my face. In my beard.

9.3 miles later I had become Captain Ice Beard.

Changing color, changing seasons

2009-12-11T13:37:00.003-05:00

Faithful reader(s), you may have noticed a change in the top of my blog. I just couldn't resist. The picture of the vibrant red leaves was just too beautiful. I had to add it. Fall in New England is truly breathtaking (even though it only lasts for a week or two). It is sort of like Mother Nature's last chance to apologize for what is to come. As such, the changing color of the leaves is always just a bit ominous.

I was thinking, though, about another change of color. One I find far more ominous and frightening.

My hair.

I have blond hair. It is true. I have white eyebrows and a red beard. It is sort of like my genotype just couldn't make up its mind about what sort of phenotype it wanted to produce. Yeah, even my genes are wishy-washy. However, because of the red beard (and the, ehm, "fair" complexion) people in the operating room just assume I have red hair as well (since they always see me with an OR cap on). And while the reports are that I had red hair when I was born, I have never seen photographic evidence of this. Mom, I'll just have to take your word for it.

Be that as it may, my hair is blond. Not almost-white-blond, but not really red or strawberry-blond either. It hides things well. Things like gray/white hairs. I consider this as something that works in my favor.

Something else that works in my favor is that, for about 8 years or so, I kept my hair mostly buzzed. Not Gillette smooth, but very short. You know, no attachment on the clippers short. Earlier this year I decided I would try the whole hair thing again. Interestingly, quite a few people told me I actually looked younger with hair. Bonus. Right?

I'm not so sure.

A few weeks ago, my dear wife was standing close by and looking at my head. Not sure why, but there you go. Suddenly she asked, innocently enough, "Is that a gray hair?"

I was taken aback. I was speechless. I was horrified. I was irrational. For reasons I still cannot explain, that simple question was so offensive to me. The very notion that I was starting to go gray was anathema. My wife looked at me as if I had lost my mind. She tried to assuage my grief, ensuring that it was "dignified". Hogwash. It isn't dignified. It is OLD.

In an effort to rally the troops to my side, I mentioned this experience to some fellow residents. To my horror, they agreed that I was overreacting! What is their problem? I am too freaking young to have white hairs!

To the bathroom. Tweazers in hand, I gazed into the mirror. I saw an errant sideburn hair. Grabbed, pulled, out. I looked closely. Crap. It was white. A few minutes later, a few more hairs, all white. But I think I got them all.

Fast forward to this week. Again, while looking at my sideburns, my wife sees another couple of white hairs. And POINTS THEM OUT TO ME!!! As if my reaction the first time wasn't enough, she tempted fate and went down that dark path again. My reaction was, well, irrational. Again.

Reflecting on my reaction, I just don't know why this is bothering me so much. My hair color hides the white hairs quite well. You only notice if you are looking closely. Nevertheless, I am really bothered by this. I mean, I am only 33. Going gray/white already? And yet, it has never phased me when I see those younger than me with much more gray adorning their crowns.

Some times it frightens me just how crazy I am.

A moment of revelation

2009-12-05T11:41:00.006-05:00

In an effort to improve my over all health, I decided to plunge back in to the world of regular exercise. It is amazing how poorly us doctors do at taking care of ourselves. The medical field has created this culture of self-neglect. In some aspects, I think the pendulum is swinging a bit. However, life as a resident is built on a firm dictatorial foundation. As in you dictate next to nothing about your life. However, as this year is my "research" year, I felt it was the best time to establish some healthier habits, ones that hopefully I can carry through the next two years after this until I am done and (hopefully) have a little more control over my schedule. As such, I have rediscovered that perhaps running isn't just as insane as I used to think it was. Here is a little secret: I used to hate running. In fact, hate may just not be sufficiently strong to convey my feelings about it. I loathed it. I thought it was evil, a beast that should be chained in the deepest pit of Tartarus. Yeah, not a fan. But biking just wasn't doing it for me. It didn't feel like enough of a workout unless I really went for a while. Still fun, but just not what I was looking for. So I decided I would try running again. I have flirted with running in the past. I have even reached a point where I didn't despise the very thought of it. But I never honestly could say I liked it. Until this morning. Getting back in the swing of things after some sickness and some stress at work, Thanksgiving morning I went for a 5.5 mile run. The most I have done in at least 4 years or so. It hurt. But mentally I was pleased I had done it, even if it was not fun. I have done pretty well since then, running regularly (a well as some cross training with weights, jump rope, etc.) with one other >5 mile run.

I planned to do a 10k this morning.

10k isn't a lot for people who actually run. You know, people who are healthy and in shape. Those sorts of people. But for those like me, you know, us fatties, 10k is a long freaking distance. I mean seriously, moving my meaty frame at a constant jog for 6.2 miles is a pretty big deal. So it took some mental preparation. I knew how far to go, where to turn around and had a sound plan.

0630 this morning I set out. A tad later than I was initially planning, but still early enough. As usual, it felt a little rough for the first kilometer or so. But I kept going and eventually it stopped hurting, and if it didn't feel good, it wasn't at least feeling awful.

Then "it" happened. For the past week the Nike+ sensor in my shoe had been telling me the battery was low. But it had still been working, recording my mileage and telling me when to turn around. Alas, at 3.92k my iPod told me it had stopped recording activity. Yep, my sensor was dead.

I won't lie. There was a part of me that just about turned around then. It would have been 8k, not bad and still a good run.

But I still could listen to music, and I knew when to turn around to make it the full 10k. So I decided to press on. I hit the half-way point and a funny thing happened. I decided to go a little farther. I knew how far to go to add another half mile out, adding a full additional mile to the run. 7.2 miles was sounding pretty good. Still, sitting in the back of my mind was the fact that however far I went away from home, I had that far to go on the return trip.

But I made it. Then another funny thing happened. I decided to go a bit farther. Up, over the pasarela (overpass, but for some reason they will always be pasarelas to me) and up to the High School. There I decided to turn around. I was actually feeling pretty good. Granted, I wasn't setting any speed records, but I was still running my pace and in a groove.

Five miles into the run, with a way to go still the weirdest thing happened. Something I have never felt before. I felt great. Not just good, but great. I'm talking grinning from ear to ear, breathlessly singing along with my iPod, giving high-fives to the low hanging tree branches great. I felt giddy.

I have heard about a "runner's high". Lis talks about them and my dad has even made mention of it. I thought it was fiction. You know, something that runners talk about to fool us regular folk in to running, telling us eventually we will feel it just to keep us going. In short, I thought it was a lie.

Not any more.

I felt higher than a kite this morning. I don't regularly use mind or mood altering substances. I have, on very few occasions, used narcotics while in the throws of passing kidney stones. I hated those. No idea why people would pay good money to feel that way.

But this was different. If I could have bottled this feeling to sell, I would be a millionaire. I felt invincible. I loved it. I crave feeling it again.

Oh dear. Looks like I got my first hit today, and now I am hooked. I just may become something of a junkie. 7.8 miles done, and I was already planning next week's runs. And, yes, I bought a new sensor today.

Gareth laughs and fills us with joy

2009-12-04T18:15:00.003-05:00

Three months have passed, and Gareth is turning into his own little person. It is amazing just what the simple things will do for little babies. As he smiles more and becomes more interactive, he fills our home with just that much more joy. Here is a bit of that joy to share with you all.

Obama and the Homecoming Royalty

2009-10-09T11:22:00.002-04:00

Congratulations to President Obama. Really. I mean it. I swear.

I don't mean this as a slight to him. On the surface, he certainly seems to have sincere intentions. I say on the surface because anyone who knows me knows I think all politicians who reach the upper echelons of government are corrupt individuals. Yeah, I am that cynical.

Rather, this is directed toward the judges of the (once) prestigious Nobel Peace Prize committee.

Really? Obama? Seriously?

He has been President for just over 9 months now. I'm sorry, but that just isn't enough time. Coupled with crises on the home front (with health care and the economic issues) he just hasn't had time to demonstrate actions that, in my opinion, warrant such an international honor. Again, not saying he won't, but it just seems premature. All he has had time to do is spout honeyed words. I don't see any evidence that the world is a more peaceful place since he took the helm of this country.

What it really screams of, though, is spite. I can't help but feel that this was done simply to spite George W. Bush. Sort of the final slap to the face. You know, "Hey, we are so glad you are gone, we're going to give this guy an award he hasn't done anything for other than not be you." Trust me, I get that. Heck, a lot of us who even may have voted for him at one time are glad he is gone. But this just isn't good enough a reason to award President Obama.

And while they have picked some other, ehm, questionable people in the past (Arafat?!?!?), at least those people had been around for years, working at whatever they were nominated for.

Sort of cheapens the whole thing. Makes it feel like a popularity contest. "Are you going to vote for that Barack guy for Homecoming King? He is sooooo dreamy!"

I only hope President Obama leaves a legacy that warrants this award. I really do.

Lullabies and high fives

2009-09-09T16:23:00.003-04:00

One of Alex's favorite things is to give very energetic high fives. He high fives with quite the gusto. Every once in a while though, he will settle down enough to be a very sweet little guy.

First weeks and first days

2009-09-09T16:03:00.002-04:00

Well, we are coming up on Gareth's 2 week birthday. In the weeks he has been home with us he has just been an amazing little boy. He eats well, sleeps well and is generally very even tempered. What a little joy. Here are some moments he has shared with us.

Likewise, this past two weeks have brought some first days of school for the older siblings. Here they are, heading out.

Welcome Gareth

2009-08-29T15:21:00.003-04:00

Today we came home from the hospital with the newest addition to our family, little Gareth Tayt Jones. Checking in at 8 lbs 4 oz, 21 inches long, he joined us yesterday at 1:06 pm. So far he has been a great little baby and mom and baby are doing awesome.

Cruisin' in style (or at least more room)

2009-08-07T19:09:00.003-04:00

Time rolls on, and swallows us up in its passing. For over four years now, we have crammed our family of five into either a Hyundai Sonata, or (surprisingly, we fit better in the second) a Mazda Protege. We flirted with the idea of a minivan a few years back, when he had a foster daughter. However, we resisted, and have, in a very cramped manner, used the Mazda to cart around our family of five. Heck, we have even used it a couple of times to head down to North Carolina. Alas, with the impending arrival of Jones kiddo number four, we have no choice but to upsize. And so today we did:

There she is, our new van. Honestly, I am excited. It will be very nice. The room is wonderful, as is the fact that it is just a nicer ride than the Mazda. But I do bid a fond farewell to our Hyundai. She was the victim, as she was a couple of years older and not quite as easy on the gas mileage. Needless to say, the kids (the ones who benefit the most from the extra space) are thrilled. New wheels for the Jones family!

On being on call

2009-08-03T10:54:00.005-04:00

Call as a resident is one of those dreaded things. No one wants to be on call, yet we all knew, going in, that this would be a requisite part of our career. Despite that knowledge, we all dread it.

Like the plague.

See, the problem is people don't understand what it means to be on call. After years of being a resident, my own parents still don't seem entirely comfortable with what that means. Granted, it is something that has changed over the years as I made the transition from General Surgery to Urology. So for that, I forgive them.

But it isn't just those of us going in who don't understand what call will really be like. Our "customers" don't understand what call is like.

Be they nurses, patients, or even colleagues, the tendency to abuse call is rampant. It is perfectly normal for a patient to call at 2 am to discuss something as mundane as when are they scheduled for their next appointment. A patient called me the other night to ask who was right, he or his wife, in regards to how a medication worked.

It happens all the time. People assume that, because they can call someone at all hours, that they SHOULD call someone at all hours. Nurses are just as bad. It is completely normal to get a page at 3 am about a medication that will be due at 9 am, or "just to let you know" that a medication (eg. an antiemetic) did what it was supposed to. Right. Because at 3 am I really want to know that the prescribed medication had its intended effects. Because at 3 am there is nothing else I would rather be doing. In fact, I was probably just sitting there, NOT trying to sleep, wondering if that Zofran that someone else ordered worked for that patient I didn't even know I was covering.

And that middle of the night call from the medicine resident who was told by the nurse who tried once to place a foley catheter that she couldn't? Those are the best. No, he/she didn't try themselves because "the nurses do this more than I do, if they can't, I won't be able to". What a great response. I will remember that one the next time my patient's blood sugar is elevated. I'll call you at 2 am before I try, oh, say, some insulin.

But you know, after a weekend like this last one, it is hard to complain about call. Until I remember that I have to do it again, and there is no way it will be as nice next time. One good weekend guarantees a couple more filled with severe pain.

What's this, a blog?

2009-07-28T11:02:00.005-04:00

A good friend of Lis's (and mine) stopped by yesterday, out visiting from Utah. In passing she mentioned she had been checking our blogs on occasion to see what was up.

I thought to myself, oh, yes, I do have a blog.

Looking at the date on the last article, it is easy to see that I may have forgotten about this existence of this little corner of cyberspace. I stopped by. It was dusty, smelt musty, and looked a bit forlorn.

Well, since I am currently enjoying the, ahem, liberties of my research year, I thought it might be a good time to dust things off, improve my colloquial writing, and perhaps let people know, again, that I am alive and kicking. Well, maybe not kicking. That is for younger kids. I am getting on in years you know.

Hopefully this won't be a flash in the pan.

Hangin' in Maine

2008-10-05T09:18:00.004-04:00

Thanks to my mother's generosity and willingness to take care of the kiddos, Lis and I had an opportunity to spend a few days together to celebrate our 10th anniversary. We loaded up the bikes and went to Kennebunkport, ME. We had a great time, cruising along the beach (though it was a tad cold), sampling the local food (lobster anyone?), and I actually had soup three days in a row. Those who know will realize just how amazing that is. All in all, it was a wonderful few days.

Be a follower

2008-09-23T16:55:00.002-04:00

As a recent defector from another blog site, which shall remain nameless (but rhymes with SlowLoser), I have been enjoying some of the benefits of Blogger. While it doesn't have the built-in community of SlowLoser, it has one very important distinction: it isn't an ugly, red-headed step-child. As such, Google's Blooger team tweaks, improves and adds to the site regularly. It is actually, actively being improved. Yeah, yeah, that is new to me. I had placated myself with serial stagnation, whose only major change came in the form of a horrendous "site upgrade" that ruined the blogging experience for me. One of the recent additions/improvements to Blogger is the ability to "follow" another blog. If you haven't checked it out, you should. You can add blogs to your dashboard that you are following. From one, nice little spot there you can see if there are any new articles from bloggers you enjoy. They will also be able to see that you are following them, giving them that nice, warm feeling of being loved (or perhaps that cold, creepy feeling of being stalked). It also automatically adds them to your Google Reader, which, if you haven't used, you should. Next time you are in Gmail, just click the link at the top of the page that says Reader and there you go, all your Blogger favorites right there ready to read. Handy. I like it.

The attraction of fame

2008-09-23T10:14:00.000-04:00

Fame is a funny thing. We seem to be drawn to it, like the archetypal moth to the flame. Even if we don't think we are.

I hate celebrity culture. The countless websites, magazines, TV shows that exist only to embarrass, expose, idolize or demonize celebrities really bother me. I don't get the fascination. In fact, my wife will tell you, I have remarked before just how stupid I think the whole thing is.

But my eyes were opened this past month.

You see, I met someone famous. Two someones, in fact. And not just sort of famous. Really very famous people. My interaction with them was limited, but did last 20-30 minutes. In that time I found them to be down to earth, kind, and, well, normal people. During my interactions, I didn't think I was star-struck.

Apparently I was.

Since my brief interaction, I honestly found myself very interested in these people, and for longer than I thought I would have. I now know what movies they have been in, what major awards (Golden Globe and Academy Awards) they have been nominated for or won. I know when they were married, born, etc. The internet makes all this so easily accessible. But what shocked me (and disturbed me) the most was that I found myself hoping for opportunities to see them or speak with them again. I was looking more closely, wanting to catch a glimpse. I found myself paying attention to celebrity news, wondering if I would hear or see their names. I was sucked in. Fortunately, it didn't last, and the brief fascination has now faded. But I am left wondering if I am no better than those celebrity-mongers who keep trash like The Enquirer, Star, and Us Weekly flying off the shelves. Talk about painful self-revelation.

Because it's there

2008-09-02T21:15:00.004-04:00

My son is now three. He is also a boy. Anatomically, he has some parts that protrude, parts his sisters don't have. This, of course, can mean one thing, and one thing only. He has begun grabbing his unit. Much to my wife's chagrin, I might add. I can tell it drives her nuts (oops, Freudian slip?) when she sees him hanging on to things. With the exasperation that only mothers can muster, she will tell him to cut it out. He's a good little guy. He lets go. For a time. But, eventually, he is hanging on for dear life again. I tried to tell him the other day that if he grabs things too much, they will fall off. It didn't phase him. I suppose he just isn't yet at the age that scare tactics work. Saturday night, though, he cracked me up. I got him out of the shower. Naturally, he walks, naked, into his bedroom, where the putting on of the clothes will occur. As per protocol. Being naked, as he was, things were just that much more accessible. I look over, and there he is, hanging on like he is afraid he is going to lose it. "Dude, what are you doing?" I ask, in what I thought was a nonchalant manner. "Daddy, I'm just grabbing my funny bone," he coolly replies. I was speechless. Still, thinking back on the moment, I laugh. I mean, of all the things he could have come up with to call his package, this 3 year old comes up with funny bone. That is pure comedy gold there. You can't write that kind of stuff. What could I say? After all, he was just grabbing his funny bone.

Like father, like son. . .

2008-08-19T16:08:00.003-04:00

Any parents out there who read this will understand quite a bit with this simple sentence: I am the eldest child in my family. As such, things were a little more, ehm, strict with me than with my siblings who have come after me. That is fine, I don't mind at all. I like to think it helped me out, and has gotten me to where I am today. But it also does occasion some good stories. My mother, in her efforts to raise a sensitive, noble, caring son had determined that toy guns would not be allowed in our house. It was an action motivated by love, a love so deep that she hurts sometimes. And so, there were no guns in our house. For a time, at least. I forget how old I was, though I am sure my mother remembers, as it was a disheartening moment for her. There I sat, eating a piece of bread. Of my own accord, I careful and selectively ate that piece of bread until I could get her attention. I pointed the piece of bread at her (eaten in the shape of a gun) and simply said "Bang." There it was, all her work to keep me from violent toys foiled in a little boys selective biting of his bread. Despite her intentions, I made my own gun. It was inevitable. Needless to say, after that I started seeing toy guns around the house. Fast-forward to today. There I was, in the kitchen. My three year old son was finishing his peanut butter and honey sandwich when he turns to me and said "Bang, my crust is a gun Daddy." All I could say was "That's my son."

Physician, heal thyself

2008-05-15T20:47:00.003-04:00

"Physician, heal thyself" Luke 4: 23

My professional goal is to assist the human body in healing itself. Be it through medication, lifestyle changes, surgery or other interventions, my efforts are for people to live better, healthier lives. I have spent 11 years since I graduated from High School working toward this, with at least another 4 to go. The vast majority of my waking hours are spent caring for others. It is truly one of my passions.

And yet.

We spend so little time caring four ourselves. It is our own doing. There is no question that there are not enough doctors to truly see the patients who need medical care. There is a supply/demand mismatch, and we created this. With restrictions on the number of new medical students every year, as well as restrictions on the number of residents who match, we are ensuring there will always be a significant demand for our services.

Likewise, rigorous entry requirements, significant time and financial investments also put limits on the number who apply. With a population that is growing significantly faster than the number of doctors, there will be no shortage of work for those who pursue medicine as a career.

And this job security is the very thing that hinders our own self-care.

Though time has passed, the memory of my kidney stone is still fresh. Yet even more clear is the realization that I did it to myself. See, the stone hit on my last day of three continuous months on the Trauma service. Three months of 14+ hour days, 6-7 days a week, with 1-3 30 hour shifts per week thrown in for good measure takes its toll on the body. Add to that the fact that all day long you are running: to the Trauma bay to run the traumas, to the ER to see surgery consults, to any and every floor and clinic in the hospital to see consults, dealing with and organizing transfers from smaller hospitals, to the OR. Most days, the first time I had anything to drink, let alone to eat was at 7 pm or later when I finally sat down to have some dinner.

Fact: That is not conducive to being healthy. This is only compounded by the paucity of time available to exercise. We try to fit it in when we can. Often the choice is between one more precious hour of sleep, one hour of actually seeing your family before they head off to bed, or getting in that workout. It isn't hard to guess that the workout often loses.

How do we reconcile this seeming hypocrisy?

I wish I knew. I refuse to try to justify it. I know we need to work long hours to get the work done. I recognize that medicine is a rather unforgiving career, and has a history that is much worse than its present. But that doesn't excuse the self-abuse. I told my daughter that it has probably been at least 13 years since I could honestly say I wasn't tired. Most of that has been due to my efforts to get where I am today. That isn't healthy, and it isn't sustainable.

Yet the winds of change are blowing. A new generation of us are entering the profession. A generation who believe that a well balanced physician, who cares for him/herself, who has at least a little time to nurture a family or friendships, is better equipped to really connect to his patients and care for them as human beings.

Not as diagnoses.

I could care less

2008-05-11T15:58:00.003-04:00

In the written language, there are few phrases that irritate me more than this: "I could care less."

Why does it irritate me so? Because it makes no sense. It is often used in place of the original phrase (penned by the British) of "I couldn't care less." This statement works. It makes sense. When I say it I mean exactly that: I care so little about [insert particular comment/rant/article/person here] that I actually could not care less. That is to say, on my care-o-meter I am officially at or below zero.

So where did the illogical derivative come from? Well, leave it up to us good old Americans to take something that actually makes sense, and turn it around so that it doesn't. But this raises the question: What happened to the negative? Perhaps some sarcastic punk wanted to really emphasize his/her apathy when he/she said to his/her equally stoned mate "Dude/ette, like I could care less." Now, that makes sense. The person is, in a sarcastic manner, emphasizing that he/she is totally apathetic. Sounds like a reasonable language permutation to me.

In the ensuing years, though, this phrase was repeated again and again, by ignoramuses (my own personal bias there) until it actually came to resemble a proper use of language. Now, there are plenty of places discussing this improper use of the phrase. I link because I care. The point that some (not all) of these references clearly make is that, in the spoken language, vocal inflection can lend meaning to the phrase "I could care less." Delivery can emphasize the sarcasm the speaker may have intended.

However, the written word cannot. I have previously evangelized that all written communication on the internet should have 'sarcastic green', a vile color that is used to warn the unsuspecting reader that the offensively colored words are meant to be sarcastic. Think of the confusion this would clear up. Lamentably, this idea has not gained widespread acceptance, and we, the readers, are forced to infer (often from barely literate writers) what passes as sarcasm. In the end, failure ensues, ideas are miscommunicated and a visual diarrhea of smileys is used in an effort to smooth things over.

My personal bias (again) is simply this: Most people who write and say that they "could care less" are simply stupid. They aren't trying to be witty or sarcastic. They are ignorant, and haven't given thought to just how silly it sounds/reads when they say/write "I could care less." Perhaps I should give them the benefit of the doubt.

Unfortunately, most bloggers haven't given me a good reason to. In the end, as evidence by the fact that I wrote this article, I actually could care less.

iPod and Nike+: A Match Made in Heaven

2008-05-10T20:59:00.003-04:00

A while ago I wrote an article I titled: iPod and Nike, a match made in marketing. It isn't a long article, but in short, I slammed the idea as nothing more than a lame gimmick to get people to buy more stuff. I even went so far as to say "I wouldn't be interested at all."

Two years later I have to say the following: Not only is it a gimmick, it is the coolest freaking gimmick in the world.

I said I didn't see new runners being motivated by this scheme. WRONG. I also said I didn't see current runners getting into it either. Again, WRONG. A friend of mine mentioned that he had picked this up and was really enjoying his first foray into the world of running. The more we talked, the more intrigued I was by the idea. There was, however, one problem: I only have a 30 gig hard drive based iPod. The system only works with the Nano (they don't want to encourage people to jostle their hard drive around and then call them when it stops working).

Wait, what I meant to say was I only had a 30 gig iPod. Being the sucker I am, I now also have a 3G black 8 gig Nano. I now also have the Nike+ sport pack. This morning I plugged it in, put on my new Nike+ shocks shoes and fired up some good tunes (a little Testament at 5 am). I told the iPod I wanted to run for 30 minutes, then hit start. Then I started running. Well, okay, jogging. Calling it running is a bit unfair to, well, running.

After five minutes a voice calmly let me know I had been going for five minutes. I pushed the select button and that same voice told me how long I had been running, how far I had gone, what my current pace was. Once it was all over it told me how far I had gone, how many calories I had burned (calculated pretty well based on your weight which you enter), and what my average pace was.

I then plugged my iPod into my computer and all that information was uploaded to my Nikeplus.com page. On my Nike+ page I now have goals. I also joined a competition for beginning runners: the first to run 50 miles. I might not win, but heck, I might. And if I don't, I have something to work towards.

Overall, I love it. Sure, I can see that it is a gimmick. But I actually see it as a very motivating gimmick.

NIN and the Future of Music

2008-05-08T14:16:00.005-04:00

Years ago a little program revolutionized the music world. Its name was Napster.

Napster wasn't the first way to find music on the internet. Usenet and IRC had been around for years. However, both of those solutions required a bit of tech-know-how to use and were not accessible to the mainstream user. Enter Napster. A clean, easy to understand interface and instant access for millions of people (many of them college students) to begin sharing and downloading music was born.

Along came Metallica and the RIAA.

Sure, they weren't the only ones, but they became the most vocal. Lawsuits ensued, the service was shut down, the RIAA declared victory and then realized that, just like Obi-Wan Kenobi, "If you strike [it] down, [it] shall become more powerful than you can possibly imagine."

Dozens of alternatives to Napster sprung up in the wake of the ruling. Audio Galaxy, Scour Exchange, Soulseek and others filled the gaps. As these were all services with centralized servers, a new generation of peer to peer programs appeared, without centralized servers, allowing true direct peer to peer connection to download, such as Gnutella, eDonkey, and Kazaa. As the RIAA continues to kick against the pricks, new ways to find music in the internet continue to flourish.

This article has nothing to do with the legality or morality of downloading music. Let's just establish that here and now.

What I find most disconcerting is the "head in the sand" attitude that the RIAA as a whole, and many artists and labels seem to have about downloading. Digital music is not just the future of music, it is the present as well. Apple has made itself a household name based on the premise that people want to be able to have access to lots of music, all the time. This can only happen with digital music. Heck, my very nice (at the time I got it) Sony Discman has been buried in a drawer of mine for over 2 years now. And this certainly isn't because I don't love music.

The truth, as I see it, is you cannot win out against downloading. It has proliferated since the RIAA decided to crusade against it, and shows no signs of slowing down. Intelligent artists and labels should be using it to help themselves, instead of insisting it is going to lead to the ruin of music as we know it.

Sadly, very few of them are doing just that. Yet there are pioneers.

Radiohead released their album In Rainbows to the internet last October, allowing people to pick their own price. While the figures have not been widely released, there is no question that Radiohead did well with their effort. Saul Williams released his third album in digital format, allowing people to download for free or for $5. While not a rousing success, it is worth noting that nearly 30,000 people have payed the $5 to purchase the album (released in Nov 2007) as compared to the 30,000 who have purchased his previous release since 2004.

But the most overwhelming success is that of Trent Reznor. The mastermind behind Nine Inch Nails, Reznor has very publicly spoken out against the recording industry and, after his release of Year Zero in 2007, severed all ties with his label and declared his forthcoming material would be self-published and released. In the beginning of March 2008, Ghosts I-VI was released. Ghost I was available free for download to anyone who wanted. If you wanted to download the other 3 albums, all that was asked was $5. If you wanted more than that (physical media, collector's sets), there were plenty of options.

Think about that for a minute. $5 for 36 songs. Each of the downloaded tracks had unique album art embedded in the tag, was at a high quality, and was ready to be loaded into iTunes (or your digital jukebox of choice: foobar2000 for me) and loaded onto your digital device. No DRM, no need to authorize your computer to play the song (iTunes, I'm looking sternly in your direction), and no limit to the type of player you could play it on. Want to burn them to a CD? Go for it. No problem. But how did this work out for Reznor? All we have are the first week's figures: Reznor took home $1.6 million in sales and scored 781,917 total transactions.

Does this include everyone who downloaded the album? Of course not. There are probably many more who downloaded the album for free from some other source. But can anyone call that a failure? I think not. And now, two months later, Reznor has again spit in the face of the RIAA and released The Slip. Another full album, this one is free in a variety of formats that will appeal to the most casual listener or to the most hard-core audiophile (24/96 WAV format is much higher quality than you could even get on a physical CD). Again, each track has unique album art embedded in the tag, the download comes with a .pdf file of the albums booklet. Physical copies will be available in a couple of months as well. According to Trent "this one is on me."

Why do this? In the first place, NIN is in that upper echelon of bands that could pull this off. There needs to be a certain, dedicated fan base who will, out of loyalty and love for the music, support the artist. The beauty of it, though, is that now Trent Reznor has complete control over his music. He controls the quality of what is available for download on the net, he certainly gains new fans as this album is spread around and talked about (heck, I would never have said I was a NIN fan, but here I am devoting time and energy to talk about Reznor). He has no middle man sucking him dry, telling him how and what to do. He has no contractual obligations to fulfill. The music remains just that: music. It no longer becomes muddied by the turbulent waters of large record labels and pompous, self-serving executives. The connection between artist and fan becomes that much more real, that much more pure.

Trent Reznor has embraced the new medium. He is quietly revolutionizing the way music reaches the ears of the audience. Let's only hope other artists will follow his lead.

The Deconstruction of American Idol

2008-04-30T20:19:00.003-04:00

Now in its seventh season, there is now doubt that American Idol is a powerhouse in American entertainment. Week after week, it is the most watched show on television. Millions call in to keep their favorite contestant in the show. Millions are donated to help a worthy cause. And numerous careers have been launched thanks to this little singing competition. One of the aspects that makes American Idol fun is the feeling of participation that the viewer has. We, the audience, have the power to call a phone number (as many times as we want in the 2 hour block) and do our part to support our favorites. Part of this excitement is that the show is "live", at least for those of us here on the East Coast (I've never watched it elsewhere, so I don't know how they pull it off). However, nagging the show over the years have been suggestions that it is somehow "rigged", that the results are, at the very least, manipulated by the producers through the judges and the host. As best as I can tell, though, these have never been more than vague suggestions. Rumors and whisperings. Nothing more. Until now, perhaps. Thanks to somewhat spacey judge, Paula Abdul, there have been no shortage of "Huh?" moments over the years. She has what I like to refer to as verbal diarrhea. She just sort of talks, and talks, and you hope that something coherent comes out of the mess she just spewed all over the place. Last night, though, was the most surreal moment I have witnessed. Here is the set-up: Each contestant was to sing two songs. Host RyanSeacrest made it clear they would be pressed for time and the judges were to only comment and critique after both songs had been sung. Each contestant performed their first song and, in what appeared to be a somewhat impromptu moment, Ryan has all five come out on stage and asks the judges to quickly comment on the songs so far. Randy and Simon were their normal selves. But in the middle of them we have thetrain wreck that is Paula Abdul. She first starts to comment on Jason Castro's (forgettable) first song. After a quick comment she then continues, "The second song, I felt like your usual charm wasn't...it was missing for me, it kind of left me a little empty. And the two songs made me feel like you're not fighting hard enough to get into the top four.'' What? Randy leans over and reminds her that Jason only sang one song and she acts dumbfounded. She says she thought he sang twice, then comes up with some line that she was confusing her notes with David Cook, who sang second. Only she then says that David was fantastic. Hmmm, something doesn't add up here. So, the question becomes; What was Paula talking about? As I see it, there are only two possibilities. On the one hand, she already had notes from the rehearsal and she was just going to stick to those, no matter what happened with the actual "live" performance, or on the other, she had prepared before hand the type of critique she was going to offer based on what the producers wanted to see happen. Either option seems pretty underhanded to me. The second option, well, that is nefarious enough I don't even have to discuss it further. But even the first seems wrong to me. If this is supposed to be live, and we, the American audience, are expected to judge the contestants on the live performance, what business do the judges have not doing the same? To maintain the integrity of the competition, the judges should be commenting on exactly the performance I just saw. Commentary on a previous performance, that could have been much better or much worse than the one seen on TV gives the judges an opportunity to artificially manipulate the audience. In the end, I find it quite disingenuous.

Another holiday away from home

2008-03-23T15:53:00.002-04:00

I knew, going in to medicine, that there would be holidays that I missed, ones I just couldn't be there for. In the (not quite) 2 years I have had the initials MD after my name, this has been true on more than one occasion. Here is a brief list:

Valentine's 2007
My Anniversary 2006
New Year's Eve and Day 06-07 and 07-08
Easter 2007 and 2008

Not to mention some Memorial Days, and a few other minor holidays. However, I have been home for both Thanksgiving Days and Christmas Days the past two years. Honestly, I really can't complain. Being gone is just sort of part and parcel for the job. However, what really has impacted me is just how amazing my family has been about all of this. Today, again, my children heard their friends talking about their Easter Egg hunt, without being able to talk about their own. But they don't utter a single complaint. Birthday celebrations have had to be adjusted a day or so here and there. Other celebrations have been bumped as Daddy had to go to the hospital. But they don't seem to care. I'm sure that, at some level, they do care. I am sure it is tough at times. However, they deal with it with amazing grace and poise. They actually seem to see it as exciting that they have theirs the day after (or before, as the case may be). Most of us know (all of us should know) that there will be similar sacrifices. And our families should know this as well. But talking about it is one thing, actually starting residency and living it is another. Now, a few years in to it, I can say that, like having children, no one can tell you what it will be like. Sometimes families struggle with this. And while it hasn't always been easy on us, I am humbled to realize just how supportive my family has been through this all. They are pretty amazing.

I passed!

2008-03-09T14:46:00.001-04:00

Please refer to the previous post to fully understand my excitement. It is sufficient to say that I passed my stone. Hooray. I just have some vague lingering discomfort in my back, but nothing like it was. Thank goodness. Carry on.

A healthy dose of empathy

2008-03-08T17:28:00.002-05:00

The time quickly approaches. I really only have a few months left as a General Surgery resident. Then I make the transition to Urology resident. To be quite honest, I am incredibly excited. Not only am I incredibly tired of General Surgery, I look forward to focusing my time and energy on what I will be practising for the rest of my life. But yesterday I gained a whole new ability to empathize with my future patients. It was about 8:45 in the morning. I was working on writing some transfer orders for one of our patients. Getting ready to move her out of the ICU, I sat down at the desk with a pile of forms (we can't seem to do anything without forms) and started to write. Then it hit me. Pain. Pain like nothing I have ever experienced. In my right flank. It radiated down, around the side and to my left groin. Maybe that is too much information. Oh well, there it is. I couldn't sit still. Walking hurt, sitting hurt. Anything I did hurt. I knew exactly what it was. I had a kidney stone. I paged the chief resident on our service and told him I thought I had a stone. After I told him my symptoms he agreed. Time to go to the ER. About 30-40 minutes had passed and it was just getting worse. I walked down to the ER, hobbling a bit, and went to the check in desk. They gave me a funny look, here I was, in my scrubs and white coat, embroidered with "Peter J Jones MD" right there on the front. The triage nurse called my name and immediately looked at me with a quizical look. "What are you doing here?" she asked. Yeah, we know each other. See, the General Surgery resident is in the ER a lot. Seeing consults, running traumas, etc. They get to know us pretty well. "I think I have a stone," I told her. I mentioned the symptoms and she took me right to a room. I won't lie, they took really good care of me. Sort of that "care for our own" attitude. The nurse was in immediately, and IV was in my arm along with 30 mg of Toradol. They even went and got me a mobile IV pole, since I just couldn't stand to sit still. A few minutes passed, things were getting worse and I called the nurse back in. "I'm ready for the morphine," I said. He pulled the syringe out of his pocket and I had 4 mg of morphine on board. Holy crap, that is good stuff. I didn't get a buzz (I don't think you really can when you are in real pain), but I felt a lot better. All this happened before the ER doc had even seen me. Honestly, the nurses and aides were great. I gave them a urine sample, and within minutes I was on the table of the CT scanner. I walked back to my room (walking was still preferable to holding still) and grabbed a C.O.W. (computer on wheels), logged in to the medical record system, and pulled up my own CT scan. Maybe there is some HIPAA violation in there. Frankly, I didn't care. I just wanted to know if there truly was a stone or not. As I scroll down the scan, I spot one. A little 2-3 mm white kidney stone. But there was one problem. This was in the upper pole of my left kidney, no the right, where the pain was. I look over at the right side and notice that the right renal pelvis is dilated. So is the right ureter. That means there is something further down the line. I keep scrolling through the scan and sure enough, there it is. Another 2-3 mm stone in the right junction of the ureter and the bladder. Great. Well, at least I knew why I hurt so bad. At least I knew it was real. A few more doses of morphine, a prescription for ibuprofen (the 800 mg tablets) and some Percocet, and a couple of liters of IV fluid later and I was headed home. The pain continued, off and on the rest of the day and into the night. As it is right now, the pain is better, but I still haven't caught that little bugger in my strainer. I have puked a couple of times (first time since High School), and didn't really sleep at all last night. Hopefully tonight will be better. At least I don't hurt nearly as bad. Next time I have a patient with a kidney stone, now I can truly empathize with them. I suppose that is good. Right?

Christmas photo follies

2007-12-23T19:24:00.001-05:00

As some of you should know by now, we decided to just use a picture of our little ones for our Christmas card this year. It was fast, easy and we thought they turned out well. But getting one photo that was decent enough to use, well, that was not fast or easy.

Alex would only smile for a split second, Jessica wasn't feeling well, and tried her hardest to muster a smile, but it just didn't work. And Aubrey, well, she is just Aubrey. You never quite know what you are going to get with her.

In the end, we managed to salvage one that was decent enough. Jessica still has a bit of a grimace, but she is trying.

Merry Christmas everyone!

Chuck: Our new favorite show

2007-12-23T18:10:00.000-05:00

Years ago, I started watching Alias. My wife sat down and we were both immediately engrossed. It became our weekly show, the one we would set time aside to watch together. And if one of us couldn't be there we either taped it (in the old days), or (confession here) downloaded the episode. It was a lot of fun. We knew that, every week, we had that time set aside for a little escapism. Our enjoyment of this activity waned a bit during the third season (our least favorite), but we stuck through. After Alias went off the air, we were sort of in a void. There just wasn't anything that we both wanted to watch. My wife fell in love with Gilmore Girls, and is still enjoying catching up on past seasons on DVD. I would see the occasional episode, and while I found much of the dialog witty, it didn't really draw me. We sort of started watching Lost at the beginning of the second season. But, to be honest, it started to get a bit too weird for us. For the most part, we have not really watched too much TV together since that time. Not a huge loss, as there are better things we can do with our time. Still, we missed having a show that we sat down to watch together every week. We tried with Heroes last season, and while I enjoyed it, it was too dark for my wife's taste (and this season is too directionless and, well, just bad). Enter Chuck. I happened to catch the pilot episode and found it quite enjoyable. It managed to straddle numerous different styles. On the one hand you have an action/spy show. Similar to Alias, the main character has to hide his spy life from his friends and family. Yet the show also mixes in well the geekiness (or nerdiness) of the main character and his friends. It manages to balance humor with action nicely. To be honest, it is a very pleasant breath of fresh air. The cast is great. Each one is likable and believable (relatively) in his/her role. The interplay between the characters is handled well, not too heavy handed, but again with just enough tongue-in-cheek to keep you smiling. We have been catching up on some past episodes we missed, and are, unashamedly, big fans of this new show. The news that it was picked up for a full season (and possibly a second-it is hard to tell for sure due to the writer's strike) came as welcome news. At least thus far, they have managed to make it work well. And for the other nerds that may be watching, there are ample nerd and geek references (subtle for the most part) that keep me on my toes, watching for them. It is a lot of fun to have something that my wife and I both look forward to watching again.

Um, my brother wants to be. . .

2007-12-23T18:04:00.000-05:00

Whew, dusting off the old keyboard here. Been a while. But I had to share, this was too ridiculous. 4:30 this morning. I was on call for General Surgery (and Pedi Surgery and Vascular Surgery and Trauma and ENT). Other than a vascular patient who decided she wanted to try to die and hemorrhage on us (she's as okay as she can be, at least not bleeding like a stuck pig anymore) it was a pretty quiet nite. One of the joys of being the junior Surgery resident on call is that you have the glory and honor of having all outside phone calls that want to talk to a Surgeon directed to you. You get a page that starts with 333** with two other numbers (the **), and when you call back, you are connected to the caller. This is usually either MDs from other hospitals calling to transfer someone to us (because they are too complicated, the patient that is, or because they are too lazy, the MD that is), or previous surgery patients who have a question about something. These calls can be a real pain. So, the pager goes off. 333**. Outside call. My guess is, at this time, a sick person has shown up at another hospital and they want to send them our way. I dial the number, hear the beep that tells me we are connected. "Hello, this is PJ with Surgery." "Um, yeah, my brother, well, he wants to be a woman." Silence. "Do you do that surgery?" "No. No, we don't do that surgery. General Surgery isn't even the right person to call for gender reassignment surgery." "Well, can I talk to the person who does it?" "No, no one here does it." "Um, can you give me the number of someone who does?" "No." Click. This has to be a prank. No one in their right mind, lest anyone who actually is considering gender reassignment, is going to have their drunk sounding brother call at 4:30 in the morning. My money is on one of the other Surgery residents who are on research this year and have the time to pull a lame prank like this. Needless to say, it made a fun story to tell the other residents this morning. What a classic line. "Um, my brother wants to be a woman." Priceless.

Blogging From Word

2006-05-26T16:26:00.000-04:00

Being something of a tech geek, I couldn’t help but jump on the chance to download and install the beta of Office 2007. And as a blogger, I thought it might be fun to see how well it works blogging from Word.

We’ll see how this shows up on my blog. Mostly just for test purposes.

Ramble on. . .

2006-04-14T09:25:00.000-04:00

-Writing so Dis Con Nec Ted. . . A great song, by the way. Understated, incredibly thunderous bass, and almost uncomfortably restrained vocals, it is one of my Rychian favorites. -Back from Houston. What an incredible experience. It was life altering. Okay, so I am full of crap. It was awful. Not in a really bad sort of awful way, just in a "I spent $1000, plus $500 in airfare, $160 in hotel and $35 for a car just so I could take this idiotic test?" sort of awful. Let the good times roll. -On call tonight. Got here to the ICU at 5:30 this morning, hoping to leave by 8:30 tomorrow morning, with no plans for sleep. Now that is what we call quality patient care. The drive home is always adventerous as well. -Got a new review up over at Blogcritics.org (I am now a writer over there, mostly music reviews). What makes this one fun is it is the first review I have written for a CD the band's publicity company sent me. Sort of fun to get free music. -Graduation approaches. That is a bit of a surreal thought. When I graduated from my undergraduate institution I didn't think it was a big deal. I knew I had another, much more significant hurdle before me. Now that I am there, at the cusp of that hurdle, well, it doesn't seem like that big of a deal either. My wife assures me it is. I think I am a bit blinded by my proximity to the occassion. But I have to admit, I do like the thought of actually being a doctor. In training, of course. But I will still have that MD. -Along those lines, I have had numerous people lately call me Dr. Jones. I want to correct them, it just sounds so wrong, so dirty of me. Then I remember. The only thing between me and that title is one month (from tomorrow). I would have to actively bust my hump to not actually graduate. And so I leave it alone. And secretly, I really like the sound of Dr. Jones. -I have wanted to blog numerous times in the past week, but the slate has come up blank. Hence the ramble. -It is high time to take out the contacts. They have been in since before 5:00 am, so my eyes are getting a bit tired. -It is also high time to end this entry. I have been composing it for about 5 hours now, in little spurts, sometimes not even a whole sentance at a time. D ow N (San Chonino is probably the only one who will get that)

With benefits

2006-03-28T22:04:00.000-05:00

I have been a student for a long time. It has been a total of 22 years now. That is, obviously, the majority of my life. I am used to being a student, with all that entails. And there is one thing that being a student doesn't generally entail. Benefits. While I will still be in training, it suddenly dawned on me that I will be employed. And with employment comes benefits. And in our case, Dartmouth-Hitchcock has some pretty nice benefits. I was investigating how much it was going to cost us for our health insurance. See, last year they decided to increase the health insurance premiums for students with families by about 200%. Needless to say, we felt the hit. They sent out an email about how they are going to go ahead and raise premiums even more for students with families this year. In order to keep that increase minimum, they are also going to increase deductibles and decrease benefits. Sounds like a great deal, no? I suppose that is what happens when you are so dramatically the minority. Well, me curiosity was piqued. How much was I going to have to pay next year for health insurance? So I did a little research and found the answer. And then I called my wife to tell her the news. It is free. Yep. Dartmouth-Hitchcock pays the premium for all House Staff as well as their eligible dependents. We were thrilled. That is a huge help for the next year. So, while I was at it I thought I would look into the disability benefits. There has been a big buzz at school about disability, with the option to purchase disability through Duke if it is cheaper than where we will be going. Well, guess what. Disability is free as well. So is (limited) life insurance. This is a whole new world to me. One I look forward to entering. All at about $7.00/hr.

All-time greatest gaming moment

2006-03-27T23:06:00.000-05:00

I have numerous favorite gaming moments. My Saturday afternoon marathon of DOOM II that resulted in me being locked in the University Library. My first time firing up Half Life (though that game makes my list of all time game disappointments as well). My first time playing the full 3D of Descent II (boy, I would get dizzy playing that one). The final cutscene of Starcraft. Reverting from hyperspace to see Kharak burning. But one moment tops them all. Finally dying. And knowing I wouldn't be coming back to life. Shaking off my immortality, discovering my true identity, and no longer being The Nameless One. Planescape: Torment. When I played it I had never really played a Dungeons and Dragons RPG. I didn't really know anything about the setting, the story, the mechanics of the game. I just found it for a good price, decided to give it a try, and slogged my way through it until I understood how to play. And I became engrossed. Planescape: Torment had more emotion, more passion, more intrigue, more wonder than many epic books I have read. The characters were brilliant, the choices felt important. The story was fascinating. I relished every line of text I could read (and anyone who has played it knows there is a LOT of text in Planescape: Torment), looked forward to the next revelation of who my character was and what brought him to his current state. And to finally reach the end, wrap up all the loose ends, discover the secrets of my traveling companions, and accept my fate in the Blood Wars, well, it was a cathartic experience. Games that great are hard to come by. It isn't often electronic media can connect with the player on such an intellectual and emotional level. Planescape: Torment did that for me. It is, withouth doubt, my greatest gaming moment of all time. Anyone want to share theirs?

Yes, I am a geek

2006-03-27T21:36:00.000-05:00

Yes, I am a geek. No question about it, I don't try to hide it. My latest expression of geekdom is the following: Yes, I went into Best Buy with my little son and a digital camera. Yes, I took a picture of him playing the a box of Galactic Civlizations II. And yes, I did it to win a Galactic Civilizations II T-Shirt. And I won! There is my little man, Gal Civ II in hand, having a good old time playing with the box. So now, thanks to the friendly folks at Stardock I will be getting a Terran T-Shirt. I will wear it with my gamer nerd pride!

Before and After

2006-03-26T10:12:00.000-05:00

While I have not been blogging about it here, I have been at my other blog site. At the beginning of the year I decided it was really time to get my butt in shape. I had made such decisions before, but hadn't ever really stuck to something consistently or long enough to see the results of my labors. This time was different. So here they are, the results of my pretty darn hard work since the 3rd of January (that was the first day I realy gave it a go). In the photos below I am wearing pants that, on January 1, 2006, fut me better than any others I had. Not too tight, but not loose at all, these pants fit me just right. You can see that no longer is that the case: It has been a lot of fun to see the difference. Now to keep it up!

Dirty blogs

2006-03-25T11:50:00.000-05:00

This shouldn't really come as a surprise, but I enjoy blogging. I enjoy writing blogs and I really enjoy reading the blogs of others. When I have the time, I enjoy surfing random blogs using such services as Blog Explosion or BlogMad. I also avail myself of the traffic generating features of those services as well, but to be quite honest, that matters less to me than it used to. For those unfamiliar with those services, you surf the blogs of people who have signed up and earn credits for each page you view. These credits, in turn, can be used to get your blogs to show up in the rotation of blogs being viewed. Each service has a "ticker" that forces you to view a blog for a certain amount of time (ranging from 20-30 seconds in the sites I have used) before you can move on to the next blog if you want to earn credit for viewing that blog. And so, often, I will open multiple tabs in Maxthon and be surfing multiple blogs at the same time. In doing so, I have been fortunate enough to come across some really great blogs. But I have also noticed something. There are a lot of dirty blogs out there in the blogosphere. And by dirty I don't mean vulgar, profane, pornographic (I am sure there are plenty of those, but I choose to have my surfing settings avoid those ones). By dirty I mean cluttered, busy, confusing. It is astounding the number of blogs I have surfed to that have a grimy layer of ads, links, banners, buttons, and just general garbage before I ever even get an entry. If I can't see a decent portion of the blogger's most recent entry without having to scroll my browser window, I refuse to even look at the blog. And it isn't as if I have a little browser window. I don't have it maximized, but since I run my resolution at 1600x1200, my browser window is usually around 1280x960. In other words, my browser window is plenty large. I know that there are ways to "make money" from your blog (I put that in parentheses because, really, how much money do you think individuals really make from their blogs?). I also know it is fun to have lots of little gizmos and gadgets in your sidebar (heck, I have a cool little Flickr badge with some fun photos here in this blog). But when they become this huge monstrosity, filled with maps, buttons of all sorts of different sites, photos, playlists, friends, archives, links, etc. I just stop looking. For me, the joy of blogging (and reading blogs) is getting to read the thoughts, ideas, and works of other people who I wouldn't get to read otherwise. But when those thoughts get buried under a barrage of AdSense ads, banners and links, the effort and frustration to find them often outweighs the payoff. Or maybe I am just lazy. ;)

Moving backward

2006-03-21T23:12:00.000-05:00

Remember, back in High School how they took attendance? You could only miss so many days and then you got in trouble. Had to have any and all absences "excused". Boy, that was great. Wasn't it? Well, after getting a Bachelor's, and now only weeks away from having my MD, apparently I am in High School again. My current four week rotation is the famed Capstone course. It is a new, one of a kind course in which they cram everything they fear the may have missed into these four weeks. To be fair, they do cover some good topics. We get our BLS recertification and our ACLS certification. There are some good financial planning topics as well as on call topics. But there is a lot of filler as well. Do we really need to spend 2 hours going over how to code, when we are going to get that at our own institutions? Do we really need to spend hours talking about our feelings? Yes, we do. Because if we are absent, we fail the course. Welcome to High School all over again. Perhaps, if they made sure all the topics were good, they wouldn't have to worry about mandatory attendance. Sure, there are some who wouldn't go at all. Their loss. But treating us all like we are irresponsible teenagers just breeds animosity.

Incognito

2006-03-20T22:36:00.000-05:00

I have discovered that I really enjoy going for walks. So, during my lunch time I head for a walk around Duke's campus. It is a delightful little 3 mile loop during which I thoroughly enjoy my iPod with one of the great albums I have on there or with perhaps the Poweruser.tv podcast. It helps burn a few extra calories each day, helps increase the circulation to my gray matter and just gets me out in the sun. It has also taught me something I found quite exciting. I must not look like I am (almost) 30. When I was starting undergraduate, I that 30 was significantly older than 20. Of course, now I don't feel like that. But I was sure that people who were 30 looked it. When I go for my walks on campus in my white coat, I think I look it. No one talks to me on the undergrad campus. But this past week I have been in normal clothes. You know, jeans, no ties, etc. It has been nice. But it has also been odd. Suddenly I am getting grabbed by undergrad organizations. They want me to participate in activities, sign petitions, banners, etc. It is weird. For almost two months I was walking around campus, sticking out like a sore thumb. Obviously older, obviously not interested in undergrad goings-on. But now, I am incognito, masquerading as an undergrad apparently. It is refreshing to know I can still pull it off.

Fatal tragedy

2006-03-19T22:17:00.000-05:00

Just over a week ago, tragedy struck. One of the students at my medical school tragically took her own life. I didn't know her personally, though I did recognize her. She always had a smile on her face and seemed to be a wonderful, positive person. It is a sad demonstration that no one is immune when it comes to depression. My heart goes out to her family, her friends, and most of all to her. When I was younger, and much more naive, I didn't understand how someone could choose to end his/her life. That edge just seemed so impossibly far away to me, the journey to get there was infinite. Then something happened, and suddenly I found that edge in sight. Granted, it was still a ways off, but suddenly it was in sight. I was fortunate. I had a wife and two (at the time) children who needed me. They were my anchor, they kept me from getting too close to that edge. I was fortunate to have an anchor that solid. I desperately wish my classmate had. May she rest in peace, and her family find some comfort and peace.

Feeling lonely

2006-03-18T22:38:00.000-05:00

I am feeling quite lonely Three days now that my wife has been gone. In the past, this has happened when I was in the middle of a busy rotation. So I was at school all day, too tired when I came home to really even notice. Sleep a couple of hours and then run all day at the hospital. No time to feel lonely. Not this time. This time, since I have the girls with me still, I have had to take some time off of school. Just me and the girls. We have had fun, heading to the park, went out to eat last night at the ultra-cheap pizza buffett (they love it!), watched a movie last night with the oldest (almost 7-we watched Ella Enchanted). But I am sorely missing adult interaction and most of all my sweet wife. That is probably why I have been spamming JU with articles the past few days. I look forward to my wife being back home.

MySpace is a disease

2006-03-17T22:52:00.000-05:00

Yes, you heard me correctly. MySpace is a disease. And not just a benign disease either. This is a serious, aggressive, pernicious disease. One that seems hell-bent on taking over the internet. In fact, this vile, filthy, perverted disease has risen to be in the top ten sites globally. Yes, top ten English sites in the world. Like a particularly aggressive cancer, it is consuming all in its path. Why do I call MySpace a disease? Just go over there and start looking at random sites. Aesthetically they make me want to puke and gouge my eyes out with rusty nails in turns. Cluttered beyond belief with no actual content buried in the dross. Abundant grainy photos that look like they were taken by fatally intoxicated, blind donkeys (no opposable thumbs) adorn most sites. Guys who look like they have glued a pair of pubes on their chin to make them look more manly epitomize the word "poser". Girls apparently striving to be the next big Playboy model toss up "glamour" shots of themselves willy-nilly. But what concerns me the most are supposedly intelligent, bright people who are jumping on the bandwagon. I have seen a couple of prog metal bands that I really respect pimping their MySpace site. I suppose this just exemplifies the axiom that there is no such thing as bad publicity. Come on though! Did they actually even check out MySpace before they started their sites? Are these the people you want to attract? I suppose publicity is the key, and with the disturbing growth of MySpace they are sure to get that. But there is just something about MySpace that turns my stomach. Oh, right, that disease thing.

Mr. Mom. . . In Action!

2006-03-17T13:38:00.000-05:00

Well, not too long ago I wrote a piece about how I play, at times, Mr. Mom. Feeding my the family, bathing the kids and putting them to bed, washing, ironing, and even an occasional bathroom are all within the realm of reason. Well, this weekend the rubber meets the road. My wife's grandfather passed away peacefully this week. We really wanted her to be able to be there for her family, but didn't think it would be possible. However, we realized that I wouldn't have class Thursday and Friday, so I could stay with the kids. We really couldn't afford to send everyone, or everyone besides me. Tickets were just too expensive. Then we started to look for tickets. For her to leave Thursday and come back Sunday the cheapest we could find were $1,200. $1,200!!! WHAT? Extend that to Tuesday and she could fly for just under $400. Since Big Al could fly in her lap for free she decided to take him (also so her family can see him-it has been a while). So I get to really be Mr. Mom until Tuesday night. Doing the girl's hair is on the docket as well now. That one scares me the most. So far they look okay. No big failures so far. But it is only Friday. . .

The annual madness sets in

2006-03-17T13:15:00.000-05:00

Some people live for the Superbowl. I say "Meh." Others long for the World Series. Tell me who won. The NBA playoffs and championship are what yet other people love. Pompous ball-hogs. Me, I live for March. And the Madness. Oh yeah, nothing better than March Madness. Game after game, some of the best basketball talent you will ever see, and without a doubt the best team play of anything. There will be Cinderella stories, upsets, teams that play near flawless games. And the athletes will give it their all. Not because they have a contract, not because they have endorsements. Because they love the game and want to win. Sure, some will go on to the NBA and make careers out of the sport. But most know this is their last chance to give it their all and walk away knowing they played their very best. And I have to say, my Blue Devils looked pretty good last night. Pretty good indeed. Man, I love this time of year.

Holy match day

2006-03-16T22:20:00.000-05:00

Match day. It means little to most people, if it means anything at all. But to medical students it is just about one of the biggest days of our lives. It is the day where you find out if everything you have been doing for the past four years is going to pay off. It is the day you find out your future. Not only where you are going to be living, but it is the day you finally have nailed down what branch of medicine you are going to specialize in. Once you have matched, you can finally say "I am going to be a (blank)." Today was match day. There was a big get together at school. Lots of food. Lots of alcohol will be flowing tonight. Futures were changed. Some were thrilled, others looked a little crest-fallen. I was unsurprised. Since Urology is early match, I have known for almost 2 months where I would be going. I still had an envelope to open today, but I already knew what it would say. But it was great to be there for my classmates. Congratulations to all of them, even those who may not have gotten their first choice. Once all is said and done, I bet every one of us will be pleased with where we go. Congratulations again to all. But what is the "match"? When you apply to medical school you send off your general application (one application that gets sent electronically to all the schools). They then request more money, oh and a school specific secondary application. Then they may offer you an interview. Once those are done they extend acceptances. If you get multiple acceptances you get to weigh your options. Residency is different. I think the goal is to be more "fair". I'm not quite sure how it is more fair, other than the fact that everyone knows the answer at the same time on the same day, with no one being wait-listed. But I have to say, it makes for a lot more stress than applying to medical school. You apply through ERAS, a single, electronic application. Then you wait and pray for the interviews. Go on as many as you can, or, if you are lucky, as many as you want to and can afford. Then the wait comes. You think, you weigh your options, decide what you think are the best choices for you and then rank them. Create a list of all the programs you interviewed at that you are willing to go to, from number 1 to whatever. Hit submit, and you future soars on the electric ether. In the meantime all the programs are thinking and talking about everyone they interviewed. They come up with a rank list of how much they liked everyone. They send it off. Then the magic happens. Or voodoo. Some fancy computer algorithm takes every applicant and every program and starts lining things up. It does work in favor of the applicant. In simplistic terms, it looks at my list, takes my #1 ranked program, and then looks at their list and sees if I am high enough on their list to match there. If so, I matched. If not, it moves on to my #2 ranked program, and so on. And it does this for the thousands of people matching each year. The hardest part about it is the fact that when you send in that match list you are contracting to attend any program on there. If you are concerned about matching then you will put as many programs on there as you can. This means you are potentially contracting to go somewhere you really would rather not, just so you can match. And then you get that envelope. One program in there (or two if you are going to do your prelim work at a different place), your future for the next 3-7 years. You can't say no, you can't try for a different place. That little envelope is final. Not a very relaxing environment. But it works. Most of the time. For most people. Not everyone matches. Not everyone is happy with their match. But it is the match. Just another one of the many hoops we jump through to live our dreams.

Who says MS doesn't have a sense of humor?

2006-03-15T19:58:00.000-05:00

I love it when someone can poke a little fun at themselves. One of the best aspects of some recent "Mormon" movies is that there are many aspects of Mormon culture that they don't take seriously. Films such as "The RM", "Singles Ward", and "The Home Teachers" have me rolling on the floor as they poke fun at very true aspects of life in Mormonia. Likewise, it appears that certain groups at Microsoft don't take themselves too seriously. One of the aspects that helps to build the mystique of Apple products is their packaging. Just look at the box for any piece of Apple hardware and you will see a minimal, classy package that glamorously presents what is inside, with nothing else. Particularly the ultra-sexy iPods. But what if Microsoft made the package for the iPod? The answer is hilarious. According to The iPod Observer, it has been confirmed that this video was made by Microsoft themselves. That just cracks me up.

Cortical stimulation

2006-03-15T15:50:00.000-05:00

Far too often I sit down to compose a blog entry and then. . . Nothing. Just nothing. My mind cramps, then freezes, then just goes to sleep. It always seems that my best ideas come at the worst time to try to actually write them down. But today I think I may have solved that. I went for a walk. Yep, a walk. With a pen and a notebook in my pocket. It was amazing. Suddenly I had extra blood feeding my brain cells. Suddenly they could function. They were happy cells, overjoyed at the fresh air, the sunlight, and just generally pleased to be free. And the blog ideas flowed. Seriously, I ended up with about 5 or 6 new articles, ready to go, composed in my head, with only the need to sit my butt down and actually write them. Yeah, yeah, that can be the hard part. Maybe I will just go for another walk. . .

Education by intimidation

2006-03-15T14:47:00.000-05:00

Pimping. It is the cornerstone of medical education, at least in most US medical schools. You learn the basic science in the normal classroom or lab setting, but when it comes time for the clinical education, didactic sessions become rare and most of the learning is hands on. This can be very beneficial, as this type of learning is often much more permanent. I assure you, when I think of diseases that I have encountered, I think of that patient and what their story was. The lesson sticks. It is much more meaningful than simply studying the pathophysiology from a book or lecture. However, hands on learning has also led to a unique style of education that I call education by intimidation. Enter the beloved practice of pimping. I don't know where they name came from, but it is pretty universal. Every medical student knows what it means to be pimped, and this crosses generations as well. Pimping can be hell. You are working 70-100 hours a week, trying to read in your "free-time", learning what you can. But, of course, you just can't learn it all. So there you are, in your patient's room, on rounds, a few other medical students with you, along with residents, your attending, maybe even the patient's family. And someone asks you a question. Not just a simple question. No, that is not what pimping is about. This is a hard question, an esoteric question. A question designed to make you sweat. If you are lucky, someone will help you reason through it, drop a hint or two along the way. But don't expect it. Expect to stand there, blush, sweat, feel your blood pressure and heart rate rise dramatically while you sputter. Lots of sputtering. Your attending looks at you with some indifference or annoyance that you are wasting his/her time. A resident may look at you with a degree of pity (depending on how far removed from your situation they are). That one jackass, know-it-all classmate who happens to be on the rotation with you looks at you with a satisfied smirk that you want to wipe off with a baseball bat. But the hardest part is the look the patient and their family give you. For days now, you have been expertly answering their questions. You have laughed, counseled, consoled, and established a solid rapport with them. They trust you, they like you, and now they are watching you sink. It sucks. Hard. Most of them understand. They look at you with real pity and sometimes even admiration. But occasionally there are those who just lost their confidence in you. One moment and *BAM*, your hours of previous work are washed away. All in the name of education. Ain't it great?

Who is BlueDev?

2006-03-15T14:34:00.000-05:00

As I work on slowly establishing myself here at Blogger, it doesn't hurt to check out my profile to find out a little more about me. I will slowly be working to customize my blog a little, reveal a little more about myself, and just generally setting up shop.

JoeUser has died

2006-03-14T20:24:00.000-05:00

I stumbled onto Blogger years ago. I started a couple of blogs here, wrote a few articles, and wondered what the draw of blogging was. It was like a journal. Only on the internet. Hmm. . . If there had been comments, interaction of some sort with others, I think it would have been different. I wouldn't have felt that I was screaming into the wind of hurricane. But I did. In the blur and flurry of electronic data, it is very easy to get lost in the torrent. And get lost I did. My blogs died ignominious deaths. Then I stumbled across JoeUser. It is more of a blog community than a blog site. Syndication to other sites and to the forum system pretty much guarantee you decent readership and comments. In fact it is easy for me to get 3-4 thousand views a week. I love it there, and will continue to blog there. That is, as long as it continues to draw breath. JoeUser is a Stardock run site. Stardock also creates PC customization software, PC games and PC productivity software. To be honest, I think they are a great company and have sent them a lot of my money, I think their products are just that good. But they are a pretty small company who recently have had huge (and well earned) success with their newest PC game, Galactic Civilizations II. In fact, they have had so much success that they have had to shut down JoeUser on a number of occasions due to bandwidth and server capacity. Impressive traffic for an impressive game. However, it has left me without my blog for over a week and a half (in total) now. I need something else. So here I am Blogger. Good to meet you. Again.