(plas′tis·əd·ē) (mechanics) The property of a solid body whereby it undergoes a permanent change in shape or size when subjected to a stress exceeding a particular value, called the yield value.
Hmmm. I've got the change in shape/size bit, definitely the stress...but I hope it's not permanent. I must have too much time on my hands because I'm prone to self-reflection lately. There's a lot of "What do I want in life?" and "How am I spending my time and resources?" and "What changes do I have to make to meet those goals?" In order to know where to go I have to know where I am and where I came from...and I feel a bit lost. I dug up an essay I wrote in 2005 in med school discussing my core values and vision. It's a whole page of words that don't mean that much now...except for the line that states that I wanted to open up my own free clinic to serve the homeless. Wow. My, how I've strayed...
I don't know what to think, except that I love anesthesia, I want to be excellent in my field, and yet I'm tired more days than not. I want to stop making excuses for the things I don't accomplish and bring back the balance of yesteryear, where I got As in school while doing extracurriculars, running track, participating in the musical, talking on the phone, organizing events at church, dancing...and let's not forget the importance of math team. :P I have no idea how I did it all? School must not have been that hard...but when I think back on it...calculus was kind of confusing...and physics didn't make any sense at all. Anyhow, point being, I want my life back!!!
I went to a Chinese dance class for the second time tonight...it's been almost 10 years since I took Chinese dance, 5 years since I took ballet. I could almost see myself in some of the younger dancers, as well as my future self in some of the older dancers. I wasn't quite sure where I fit in, if I fit in at all. All I know is that my knees popped every time I bent down for the grand plie. Maybe they always did that, I can't remember. I can't seem to remember much these days. That life is gone. My life is now. Thank goodness for pictures and videos...to last forever.
Let me explain the following video. I've known my roommate (we call each other Dookie, long story) since we were little kids. We've come a long ways, from heated debates about homosexuality and Christianity to playful wrestling and games in the EFC Youth Room. Nowadays, we'll still argue about whatever topic is in TIME magazine, and every now and then we'll throw my yoga ball back and forth at each other. Needless to say, we don't have a TV. So entertainment comes knocking, and I hear her coming home one night, fumbling with the keys at the door. For a long time. I finally go over to help her open the door, and realize that she's aphasic. She had lost the ability to form complete sentences and say words that made sense. She continued to mumble and have a pseudo-conversation with me that I couldn't understand before she proceeded to sit on the couch (like she always does) and later vomit all over it (those pillows I bought used to make me so happy). The next morning she forgot completely that she had spoken to me. This video is a continuation of that story, and yet again, she did not remember it. Scary, no?
Guess what Andrea is...and then guess what's on her head. I pulled together an Olive Oyl costume in a pinch. I finally saw Jenny!!! Four months working at the same hospital, living in the same building, and we finally had dinner :D.
"You smell like soy sauce!" my fasting patient exclaimed exuberantly. Smiling superficially, I forced out a small laugh and refrained from comment. I noticed his wife and daughter said nothing, their faces nonchalant to his comment. I left the room, made a face, muttered a few things to myself in my head, and walked away. I returned later to bring the patient to the operating room. "No really, you smell like soy sauce. I want to eat your COAT off. You really do! You smell like soy sauce." Sighing internally, I couldn't resist. "Sir, I don't know what to tell you, but I had a meatball sub from Subway earlier for dinner." "Really? Because you smell like soy sauce." I gave up, comforting myself that soon enough, he would be lost in slumber, dreaming about chow mein noodles drenched in salty black sauce. We got to the operating room, put him to sleep, and the circulating nurse burst out, "I am so sorry!!!" and related the story to the entire OR. I had no words left.
What was worse? The patient's ignorance about his potentially racist comment? His family's silence in response? The nurse who apologized for someone else's words? Or me, for not realizing that I smell like soy sauce, no matter what I eat? If I had soy sauce in the past week, I might've thought twice about whether or not it was seeping out of my skin...but no. "I'm Taiwanese-American," as I told my other patient, who asked abrasively, "What nationality are you?" right after asking, "How old are you?" I still haven't come up with a gracious answer to that question. I'll probably get it for at least the next ten years, so I should start brainstorming now.
Patient stories aside, pictures of recent events!
Margie got married at the Seattle Aquarium! I now have an Italian brother-in-law, and questionable hookups to the mafia. my class likes to go out dancing :D fun times! nancy's bridal shower/bachelorette: good food, good games, good prizes,and good dancing! she's getting married!!! "It's all about the tease, ladies!" -Frenchie Kiss
