"I think I'm getting too old to be horsing around and drinking all the time."

I got back from India about a week ago and have since finally acclimated again to the USA. It's so quiet here it's a little spooky. Also, I almost miss that waft of open sewer smell that could, as my father was so fond of saying, "knock a buzzard off a shit-wagon." I'm not quite sure what a shit-wagon is, frankly, and since then I have learned that buzzards feed off carrion and would probably have enough sense to keep away from what I can only assume is a man-made vehicle used to gather and transport feces. Also, when people speak here in the USA, I actually understand the words that are coming out of their mouths. Of course, those words are mostly Spanish, but at least I understand the words if not the meaning.

Since getting back I have been helping with the orientation activities for the incoming first years. Well, that's not entirely true. When I first got back I wrangled with the worst jet-lag of my entire life while fighting off some crazy upper respiratory infection that had me spiking triple digit fevers and coughing up golf ball-sized hail-sized chunks of lung. That took about a week. Also, before I came back to the US I got some Mendhi done. You may have seen the pictures of my "tattoos" on the previous post. It's also called Henna and is a plant-derived dye that they draw onto your skin using a little tiny cake decorating tube. It generally lasts for about 2 weeks - a little less if you shower frequently. I think it lasts about 6 months on the average Indian gentleman. Turns out I'm pretty damn allergic to Henna. So as the dye wears off I have the exact same pattern left on my arms in red raised welts. It's OK though, I'm only have to deal with this type I delayed hypersensitivity reaction for 2 weeks.

I also had a run in with our occupational "health" office here at school. I thought it prudent that, after having been crammed onto the Mumbai public trains several times for several hours as well as in the TB wards at the hospitals there, I should maybe get a TB test to make sure I'm not running around all TB-Typhoid-Mary at school and in the hospitals here. In my mind I pictured my walk into the occupational health clinic as a hero's return, being lauded by the public health officials for the wisdom, responsibility and forethought I displayed at not having to be cajoled into coming into the clinic to get the very important and requisite TB test. Not so much as it turned out. It seems that the buck-fifty that the TB-tine test (or PPD) is too much for my school to lay out for giving a student a second TB test, even after spending a month in a country where TB is endemic. I was told that since it wasn't required for my return to school that they would not provide a test and that "you're really only getting this test for your own personal reasons." I was like, yeah, personally I don't want to infect all of your students and employees with TB. So basically when I came to New York from Northern California where there are approximately zero cases of TB with which I came into contact, I need a TB test so the hospital employees, students and patients would all be safe. But now that I've come back from India, where TB is rampant and generally goes untreated and is often multi-drug resistant, yeah, no TB test required. Makes you wonder whose health the office of occupation is truly worried about. My guess is the health of the institution that provides the occupations, not the occupants themselves.

So right, 1st year med student orientation. As I said I've been helping out with the activities. Right now the only 1st year students around are those taking a biochemistry prep course. It's a class that goes for 2 weeks or so for students with weaker biology backgrounds or those who have been out of school for some time. In my first year, I decided to pass on the prep course. I felt that my biochem background was sufficient, I was only out of school for 8 years, and I was just nowhere near enough of a fucking nerd to sign away 2 weeks of summer for an ungraded series of lectures about glycolysis that will only be repeated again and again and again over the next 4 months. But for these incoming kids, it's really a good idea. So they've been at it since Monday and we've had little activities for them each night. Monday was a margarita party where I was the mix master, having perfected my recipe (i.e. stolen my recipe from a guy named CJ) on the mean streets of Tucson, AZ. Tuesday was a dessert and ice cream social outside with sangria, and last night was a movie in a lecture hall (Wedding Crashers) with the leftover desserts and a lot of beer. Supposedly there are about 70 1st year students here for the class, but only about 30 have been showing up for these events. I was asking one of the kids why so many people are staying away from the events. She reasoned that the students are taking the biochem course very seriously and also that "I think I'm getting too old to be horsing around and drinking all the time. I mean, I'm in MED SCHOOL now, I have to start acting more responsible!" I just looked at her and thought 'wow, this is how med school is viewed by everyone outside of med school!' It's amazing how quickly you forget, or maybe forget isn't the right word, maybe you just get assimilated into the activity you're involved in so much that you expect that everyone on the planet sees it the exact same way as you do. I remember before starting school that I would now really have to be the serious student because MED SCHOOL is the big leagues, MED SCHOOL is only for those people who are dedicated to bettering all of humanity's ills, MED SCHOOL will not tolerate tomfoolery of any kind. Well folks, nothing could be further from the truth. Med school, as it turns out, is just like grad school and is just like college. It's a bunch of people all taking classes together, going to parties, getting drunk, having sex (or in the parlance of the times, hooking up), and spreading rumors. It's the same human behavior seen everywhere I've been be it college, grad school, postdoctoral fellowship or in the cubicle farms. The only real difference is that in med school, you get to dissect a human body, and that makes it all worth it. The day I am too old to horse around, drink and act slightly irresponsible is the day that I will be lying in a box with my mouth sewn shut surrounded by crappy floral arrangements that I would never allow myself to be seen near in animated life.

Since I have been heedlessly neglectful of my blog over the last many many months, I thought the three of you who read this might want an update on the various characters I've mentioned in these missives.

Dr. Shock (aka the cool roommate): We continue to room together. At school Dr Shock likes to drink cheap vodka, organize outings to clubs and cram for exams at the last minute, for which he has a penchant unmatched by anyone I have met in my life. He spent a lot of the summer in Cali, where he lived 10 minutes from where I lived for 5 years. We also got together in Mumbai while he was visiting family there. He's a different person in India. He still drinks the cheap vodka and organizes outing to clubs, but he does it while speaking Hindi.

Minerva: My anatomy lab partner and very close friend here. She is working this summer for the New York Dept of Public Health. She is working in an office and has her own cubicle. According to Minerva, working in a cubicle farm "licks balls" and she is excited because this is her last week there. I wish she had just asked me what working in a cubicle is like. Her boyfriend Aladdin is currently visiting family in Columbia so she is a little grouchy from lack of sex and is also worried about the little Arab getting kidnapped by Sandinistas (yes, I know that the Sandinistas were in Nicaragua, but it's a funny word. Thanks for ruining the joke Senor Anthropologio Politico.)

Other roommate: Yeah, he moved out. Apparently he moved in with some of his other friends from school. They now all worship together in their spare bedroom. I wonder why he felt at odds in the apartment he shared with an atheist and a Hindu? Bet you guys didn't know I was Hindu did you?

Fody-cent: He is still annoying everyone at school and desperately trying to sneak out of dinner checks.

Double-stuff: My other anatomy lab partner. We really don't speak much anymore after the "incident with the fatty liver". Some people just don't have a sense of humor.

I don't think I mentioned anyone else on here. Except the Dude, from "The Dude Abides" blog; he publicly chastises me about not posting often enough, and rightfully so. I would tell you all to go read his far superior blog, but most of you come here from his so that would be a little superfluous, wouldn't it? I wish I had the self-discipline he does for posting.

Tomorrow I head to Wisconsin to visit the family. I haven't seen them in nigh on 2 years I think. I won't be going to the Dam though, I will be spending the week at my sisters farmhouse in East Troy (or as the locals bangers call it, E-zist Trizoy). Mom sold the house in BD about 3 years ago and moved "up nort" closer to my older brother. So the house that I grew up in and called my home for 34 or 35 years currently has some other family living in it. I think it's best I stay away from it because I get the weird feeling I would walk right in the front door and make myself at my rightful home. Eh, the new people probably lock the front door; we never did.