Saturday, January 23, 2010

A wager

Have you ever played one those punching bag games at a bar? You put in a dollar, the speed bag drops down from the machine, you step into it with a right hook, and it spits out your force on a 1,000-point scale. Whenever I see one of these thing I have to burn at least a couple bucks.
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Last night I had the honor of assisting one of my best buds with his marriage proposal. A couple other dudes and I had the task of securing a table a top of the John Hancock tower and leaving the roses there to be waiting for the beautiful couple. She said yes. Obviously this calls for some celebration.

The other dudes and I went to a bar up the street and I quickly realized they had one of these seductive punching bag machines. We all took a couple swings. So what I think makes this game fun is that without fail some chicks and their accompanying meatheads will gather around to watch the action. They stand in a huddle laughing and probably making comments about how weak we are, and we stand in a huddle and laugh and make comments about what cheap meatheads they are.

Last night a woman calls out from the huddle, "I want to make a bet." I welcome this sort of enthusiasm, and prepare a pep talk for my giant Russian friend who will surely be facing off against one of her dudes. The chick- "I want to make a bet with the guy in the blue sweater, " which is me of course, "I think I can take him." I should have walked away like my friend on the middle school wrestling team who quit just before he had to face a girl named Charline on the practice mats.

We negotiated the terms of the wager (photo below). You can see that she is heavier than me and the expression on her face lets you know she runs a hard bargain. I had to beat her score by 75 points. In retrospect I like to think I was teaching a little lesson to my friends on how not to negotiate.

I step up to the bag first and she starts with the vicious taunts- "Leprechaun boy," "Large shiny forehead," and "Hey stupid a-hole, you know you're gong to lose to a girl, right?." I had overestimated my mental toughness, even after all those hard-fought battles on the IM basketball court. I punch through the bag and score a pretty respectable 772- not my best, not my worst. I retreat to my corner.

She takes her position. She winds up and jabs like a girl. Her score shoots up and decelerates to land on a 708. Blarney. Instant shame.

Of course I go double-or-nothing. And I'm going to stop the story right here.

The author working out a bet with female challenger. Giant Russian looks on.
(Photo by R. Ganatra)

Sunday, January 17, 2010

Healthy living goal

On a typical weeknight I only get about 5 hours of sleep. I hit the sack around 2am and wake up at 7:23am. Oddly I didn't realize how pathetic this sleep schedule was until just before winter break- probably because I've never been more exhausted than at that moment. You simply can't function at a high level over a grueling academic term when you're only getting 5 hours of shut-eye each night.

Hence my healthy living goal: more sleep. I love this goal because its a change I actually want to make, and I think the results will have a tremendous impact on my life. Sure, I could strive to exercise more or eat less fast food, but those goals suck. Sleep is unequivocally awesome.

On Thursday I developed this plan with my buddy Ethan K:
  1. At midnight pour a glass of wine.
  2. Drink this wine while reading a chapter out of a novel unrelated to medicine.
  3. Turn off light and fall into a deep slumber around 12:30am.
Brilliant isn't it? I was so excited about the plan that I tested it that very night.

At 1am I poured myself a goblet of merlot (an hour late but a step in the right direction), and I retrieved a novel- Complications: a surgeon's notes on an imperfect science by Gawande (yes, a medicine novel, but much better than a medicine textbook). It was fantastic. I was really enjoying myself. I loved the feeling of pausing the book, picking up the glass from the bedside stand, taking a long drink, and then placing it back on the stand. And the book is pretty insightful. I was having such a good time that I quickly consumed all of my wine and decided to pour another glass.

Its 2am (fail), so I decide I better move onto step three of the plan. I shut off the lights, turned on the Dan Patrick radio show, and just waited for sleep to overtake me. Problem: the two glasses of wine did not sedate me, rather they made me kind of giggly. My mind was racing with funny thoughts from earlier in the day, and the Dan Patrick crew had me cracking up as they reminisced about their marriage proposals. I think I finally tapped out at 3:15a.

The next morning I woke up with my alarm at 7:23a. I am way too tired to go to the first lecture. I attempt to set the alarm back an hour. I will go to the 9am lecture.

I am sleeping so peacefully. I'm tucked up in a warm little ball with my face buried in the down pillow. Whenever my sleep is this tranquil I know something in my life is awry. My phone starts ringing. I look at the clock- 10:36am. I HAVE SLEPT THROUGH 36 MINUTES OF A MANDATORY CLASS. I'm supposed to give a presentation. One of the worst feelings in the world. FML. I pick up the phone- its a classmate, I offer her an expletive and a thank you.

Now its a race. I'm letting autopilot handle the clothing. I pick up the jeans and the wrinkled button-down off the floor, and for some reason grab my 5 year-old, disgusting Rod Laver tennis shoes out of the closet. Wine stains all over my lips. My hair is standing up on the right side. I am now sprinting to the classroom. I am the white, poorly dressed med student version of Usain Bolt.

I looked like a homeless man running through the halls of the school.

I arrive. I'm so embarrassed but I try to be as charismatic as humanly possible. Its working. The teacher is enjoying my presentation on liver disease and pregnancy. It all goes well. We finish class at noon.

The one day I look like a bum everyone in the world want to get in my face and have a conversation. First of all, a lot of people want me to acknowledge that I was in fact late. YES, Chase Woodward was late. Laugh it up folks. Laugh it up real good. I let them enjoy it- I've been on the other side, and I must admit its amusing when someone oversleeps. Then this sexy little number approaches me as I'm shuffling out of the school and wants to talk about medicine and human rights, of all things. Really- today is the day you want to have an impromptu one-on-one about the social justice of medicine. We couldn't have done this yesterday? Or over dinner, perhaps? She is so close to my wine stained lips. I bet I don't smell all that pleasant. Gosh.

Finally I break out of the mass of humanity questioning me and make my way home. I need more sleep.

Sunday, January 10, 2010

Sausage Party '09

Longtime readers may recall my previous post about the annual Christmas Eve sausage making party hosted by my friend Alec Young and his delightful family. In my mind this party has three purposes:
  1. Take a slab of fatty meat from a pig's shoulder, chop it up carefully into 1"x1" cubes, douse it with a dangerous amount of seasoning, perspire as you force the chunks through a grinder, then wrap it all up in some casing, and finally twist off some 7" links and you've got sausage.
  2. Drink Budweiser- the choice beer of the host and his offspring.
  3. Hit on Leslie S.- the red haired undergrad who I'm convinced is going to transform into a highly desirable, attractive, and sophisticated young woman at any moment (3 years and counting).
This year Mark R (the reformed bully) and I teamed up again in the kitchen. Last Christmas we were heavily criticized for not using enough seasoning, so before the party we made a pact not to go light this time. Legend has it that the following phrase has never been uttered at this party: "too much seasoning." With that as our inspiration, Mark and I made the most ferocious looking chorizo style sausage that many of the veteran guests have ever seen. Those sausage cubes burned a brilliant red, readers. The mix included copious amounts of chili powder, tequila, Hungarian paprika, and several hand picked endangered dragon chilies. The final product had to be one of the most menacing but savory meats that this party has produced in the last half decade. Needless to say Leslie S was impressed by this comeback performance.

Another highlight is getting an update from Alec's younger brother Garrett (pictured below), a loyal Woodward Wire reader. I'm pretty excited about this kid, a college junior. Since I've known him (and against all odds) he has somehow morphed into a thoughtful, fairly articulate, very presentable young man. And you gotta love his spirit. That doesn't mean a dude can't make mistakes though- he informed me that he has a new girlfriend named Rae-zor. For what must have been the 4th time I gave him my speech about the many virtues of being single. And what kind of name is Rae-zor? (At times I have to be a little territorial with Garrett- I suspect that someday he will attempt to swoop in and take Leslie S).

Related trivia: the original condom? Pig intestine lining, circa 1600 to prevent syphilis.

Mark Rathouz, the author, Garrett Young
(Photo by Braden Young)

Sunday, January 3, 2010

2010

Back to school, back to the blog.

From where I'm sitting right now it looks as though this is going to be a rough year, readers. Challenging in every way. Tomorrow at 8am sharp med school resumes at full speed until the end of May. To that of course we must add the masters program, which runs until early June. And can't forget that I'm still chipping away at a couple research projects in the orthopaedic department, which seem to obey no timelines. But this is life as usual. We'll manage.

What makes the outlook for 2010 grim is that I have to take a very important test in mid-June called the US Medical Licensing Exam, aka 'The Boards.' Its the first step to becoming a legit licensed physician and its also used like an entrance exam for residency programs (important). It tests pretty much every we've learned in 1st and 2nd year and then some. We're supposed to study for this on top of the load outlined in the previous paragraph. Daunting. Its scary even without all the other stuff flying around on the schedule. But this is the road I have chosen and we'll get through it all somehow.

So its my goal to keep a positive attitude over the next 5-6 months. To embrace the challenges before me, to strengthen old relationships and build new ones, to expand my knowledge, and to live my life more efficiently, less emphasis on perfection. 2010 could be the best year of my life for all I know. I'll try to keep on blogging- I'll need your encouragement as we move forward.

A good sign: I was working the lounge scene last night with my bud Sergey and I think I may have my spark back. I'm in the game again. Feels great. Maybe that'll help me through.
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Break was awesome! I did nothing constructive.

Went on a ski trip to Keystone CO with my buds ('Keystone VI'). For the first time I brought women along- some have called it the greatest social experiment of our time, both in terms of societal impact and volatility. I'm please with the preliminary results- the company was good, the food was much improved, the trip was more orderly overall. I had a great time on the slopes and in the hot tub. No injuries.

I was in Omaha over Christmas and it wouldn't stop snowing. The most snow since '75 an old man told me. The extended family couldn't make it in for Christmas, so we just had a nuclear family observance. My favorite gift this year- a smart phone from my dad. DROID. Has already changed my life. Other notable gifts: a twilight wristwatch from my little sis, a pair of downhill skis, and some Cubs paraphernalia from my older sis. I got my hair cut short. I saw 'Up in the Air.' Husker triumph, Northwestern tragedy. I wished my dog farewell as this may be her final Christmas. I helped a florist set up for a giant wedding at the country club, I took a liking to her red-haired female assistant, I quickly learned she was 16. Is it just me or is it getting harder to tell? On New Years I participated in a Street Fighter II (SNES) tournament- I've still got it. Life is good.

Liz B, Bruce H, Chase W, Mark R (reformed bully), Sarah S, Kyle W

Photo courtesy of camera timer

Photo courtesy Mark R and Sarah S

Saturday, December 12, 2009

200

This is the 200th post.

(1) I discovered my previously unremarkable 40-something year old female neighbor sprawled on the hallway floor, asleep, and covered in copious amounts of red vomit late Wednesday night. I woke her up and helped her into her apartment. The hallway still reeks and the carpet is forever stained. She reports family problems.

(2) Remember my foreign neighbor to the North who parked his EasyWheels in the hallway and is prone to angry Korean rants, the occurrence of which are bi-modally distributed between 2am and 5am? I caught him and his family moving out of the building at midnight on Thursday (related to vomiting incident?). Yes, moving out in the middle of the night is very, very strange- made me raise an eyebrow. They saw me passing by, I lowered my eyebrow and smiled, and as always they gave me the blankest stares I have ever seen.

(3) Since my last post I accidentally made a young woman cry. She was primed to weep, and I just precipitated the event with a dumb question. New rule: never ask anyone about their significant other unless they bring it up first. And I am such a deer-in-headlights when the tears start flowing. Completely paralyzed. A good place to start is retrieving tissues, so I'm going to work on that. My instinct for some reason is to smile and lighten things up- I guess deep down I believe smiles are contagious and that they are the cure to crying and sadness. The clear and present danger here is that the woman might think I am amused by their grief.

(4) Something is awry at the Northwestern Memorial Hospital Starbucks. My bro, Ian, who taught me the term 'half-caff' and has always charged me the refill price for my drip coffee ($0.56) has started charging me $2.06. What is going on? Not only is he charging me full price, he is charging me for the grande size instead of a tall. I have a suspicion that there has been a crackdown from the top.

(5) A moment ago I bumped into an M1 in the hospital who I kind of admire. She is nice. My problem is that I never have anything to talk about- sure, I could mention my neighbor who threw-up in the hallway or how I'm getting screwed on coffee prices, but those really don't have a point and she would probably find it completely random. ("Why is he telling me this weird story?") Instead I inquire about school and her plans for the upcoming break- I really feel like I am a parent questioning my child's best friend who has come over to play. I am asking for a report. She delivers and then reciprocates with questions about my school work and I go into this terrific little monologue about how my life sucks at the moment. Not attractive. Smiling is attractive so I need to do more of that (except when women cry). I stopped talking. She stopped talking. We just kind of stood there looking at each other for a little while. Gosh she is short. I didn't walk away, neither did she. It was kind of weird, but kind of exciting. I finally brought the encounter to a close and went on my way.

I have a test on Friday and then I'm on break baby. Headed to the slopes. I'm frighteningly behind, but I got a lot of work done today.

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

NU med H1N1 vaccine saga comes to a close

I settled for the nasal mist.
(photo by Dave McNamara, MPH)

Sunday, November 29, 2009

Comments on air travel

Things that annoy me about air travel.

1. Security. Mainly removing my shoes and taking my computer out of my bag. I hate this. Its not that difficult, but it seems so unnecessary and adds significantly to my stress level. Today my new bottles of shampoo, conditioner and shaving cream were confiscated by the obese lady working the x-ray belt. Maybe she will shave that beard.

2. People who take up more than one seat in the waiting area near the gate.

3. The dude who sat down next to me in the waiting area and immediately ripped the nastiest fart I've smelled in a long time. The kid may well have shat himself. Then having the attractive girl to my right give me the most convicting glare I've ever seen.

4. The fuzzy picture quality and crappy programming shown on televisions in the waiting area.

5. The people who insist on lining up in front of the gate prior to the announcement that boarding has commenced. I really don't get this. Southwest now has assigned letters and numbers for every passenger- your boarding spot is reserved retard.

6. People who carry-on more than a small personal bag and a small roller bag.

7. Morbidly obese people riding airplanes. They can't fit down the aisle, they spill over armrests into your personal space, and if there is a need to evacuate they will certainly clog up the emergency exit window. Note: I have very little sympathy for grotesquely obese people.

8. Riders who try to prevent other people from sitting next to them on the plane by placing their bag/coat/book/newspaper in the seat next to them. (Air travel really brings out the selfishness in people; also see points #2, #6)

9. The low concentration of hot women in the Southwest flight attendant pool.

10. People who unbuckle their safety belt before we arrive at the gate, despite very clear instructions that seat belts should remain buckled until the plane comes to a complete stop at the gate and the fasten seat belt sign has been turned off. Like point #1, this one really chaps my hide.

11. People who stand up as soon as the plane arrives at the gate and the door opens. JUST SIT DOWN AND RELAX! This has bothered me since I first started flying as a very young child. I love it when I'm sitting in the aisle seat and the two folks next the window quickly get to their feet when we arrive- I remain seated allowing them to awkwardly bend over as they try to stand under the overhead compartment. I then rise when it is our turn to move down the aisle towards the door.

12. The baggage claim process. People crowding around every last inch of the conveyor belt perimeter, and my bag is always last. Always.

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I realize the last few posts have sucked. We're very concerned about quality here at The Wire, so I will be putting more effort towards writing during December.
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Update- this seemed appropriate. Compliments of www.failblog.org