We have a winner!

After 2 months of haphazard testing and educated guessing I think I have identified my bacterial unknown. I'd like you all to meet the Gram +, catalse +, facultative aerobe, mannitol -, coccus that is Staphylococcus epidermis.

The same day that I identified that beauty I was given my Enterobacteriaceae unknown. So far I have concluded that it is, in fact, an Enterobacteriaceae and it is lactose negative. Soon I will be getting my PCR unknown as well... lots of investigating in micro.

Orgo continues it's march onwards... we've passed the vocab, are exiting stereochemisty, and have merged into mechanisms. Enantiomers, diasteromers, and structural isomers... oh my!

The personal statement

Part of step one in applying to medical school is writing a personal statement; traditionally discussing why you want to enter the medical profession. This is a problem because quite honestly I haven't faintest idea why I want to be a doctor. I don't come from a long line of doctors and none of my close relatives suffered a horrible medical course. While I don't entirely lack empathy, I think I'm on the selfish side to be the altruistic applicant. I'm uncomfortable unless I'm under pressure and I enjoy learning more than any other hobby, but I don't know if that really means doctor. I mean, doesn't banker fit that description too? I left that...

Let me not confuse the obscurity of my motivation with lack of it's existance. I definately do want to be a doctor. It's the right fit and I'm happy on this path, I just cannot articulate why. But I still need to write the essay.

On a related subject, my co-workers have started expressing indications of which specialty they believe I will end up in. One attending has put in a vote for surgery, the med student thinks I'll choose ER, and another attending concluded peds. Interesting that I came in saying neuro, work in a neuro department, and no one seems to think I'll end up a neurologist.

Much better than real radio

www.pandora.com

My hexane has a first name...

... it's t-b-u-t-y-l.



Having cleared the first of three exams in a 7 day period I have now "dug in" and they say and am battling it out with organic chemistry. Turns out that doing orgo is actually more engaging than many other classes. It's still work (ie, sleeping would be more fun), but on the continum of physics lab -> free ice cream it's not doing too badly. Maybe it's because building models is somewhat reminicent of the building blocks you had when you were five. Or legos. Legos with atoms.

My colleagues at work are off to the Child Neurology conference this week to present abstracts on some papers we're preparing for publication. If you happen to be in Pittsburgh and happen to be at the Child Neurology Conference and happen to come across a poster on seizures in the presentation of children with acute arterial ischemic stroke... check out the third name.

Bunny Ranch tv

Work is fairly routine at the moment, but I'll be in clinic again on the 20th so hopefully there will be some interesting stories from there. In the meantime, I thought I would give you a break from all-neuro all the time.

I was watching tv on Friday night and ended up flipping to an HBO series about a Nevada brothel. Never one to pass up an educational moment, I settled on the sofa with a glass of diet coke. Honestly, my first reaction was that none of these women was hot. The ones with the bodies have faces that more closely resemble a bulldog than a person and the ones with doable-in-the-dark faces had, shall we say, "pillowy" figures. Now I know that I am not in possesion of either a) stunning good looks or b) a figure a runway model would puke for, but I'm not selling my sex appeal for cash either.

About halfway through the program one of the women is chatting with a potential client and she's showing him around the place. He grabs her ass and makes a lude pass at her. She gets pissed off, steals his money clip and refuses to service him. I fail to see how someone who pays to let men (and women) do what they with her can get away with indignation over an ass slap. Genuinely attractive women get that and worse and dance clubs and bars... get over it.

The last segment was a women who was dating the brothel owner and was getting upset that he was sleeping with the girls he employed and she didn't feel her pedastool was high enough. Uh, he's a brothel owner and all the girls pretty much have to sleep with him or they would probably lose their jobs. Of course you're not going to get this guy to commit. Hello. Duh.

I think what we can take from all this is that the women of this particular brothel are both ugly and not-so-bright. And maybe we've also learned that I think to much when watching crappy late-night television. But then, dissecting re-runs of the West Wing probably makes for a much less amusing post (but it is better tv).