So I needed to buy a new parking permit this morning. And I hate buying parking permits. The parking-permit-nazis always give me a hard time. You would think that they wouldn’t bother considering I’m trying to pay them $200 for a piece of paper. A very small piece of paper.  I don’t know why they insist on picking on me when they’re as sweet as apple pie with everyone else. I thought it was because I look like I’m 12 (okay maybe more like 18 now, but you get the point). So I even tried putting on my professional clothes complete with my short white coat and glasses once. Not that it worked. I guess I needed a long white coat, but I knew that no one would believe that I was a real doctor, so I drew the line at short white coat.
Because of my previous not-at-all pleasant experiences with these people, I was not looking forward to starting my Monday morning trying to buy a parking permit from them. Plus I was running late and if I didn’t hurry, I would be left with only my $200 parking permit and no parking space. So I breezed into the office only to get cut off at the counter by some snooty tall guy who had walked into the office behind me. And the damn parking-permit-nazi on duty did absolutely nothing about it. As I waited while this a**hole got his stupid permit, I began wondering who the hell he thought he was cutting me off even though I clearly got there first. Must be some idiot who parked without a permit trying to buy a permit really fast before getting a ticket. Or maybe because he’s so much taller than me, he didn’t even see me in front of him. Then I hear him tell the parking-permit-nazi, “I’m a visiting resident…” Ah, a resident! Well, that clarifies things quite a bit. Only an MD would think he’s above waiting in line! But not just any MD, because I know that I won’t do such things if I ever get my MD. There’s only one kind of MD who could be so self-important: an orthopedic wannabe-god surgeon. He sure looked the part: tall, fit, cocky, not willing to make eye contact with the “little” people. Damn him. I just wanted to stick my foot out and trip him on his way out.
While ortho-wannabe-god dude was working his magic on the parking-permit-nazi, another scrubs-clad woman waltzed into the office and proceeded to stand behind him as if she were next in line. Um, hello, don’t you see that the line is over here?! I was expecting to be cut in front of again by this woman once ortho-wannabe-god was done, but surprise, surprise, she let me go first. I guess she must have been a nurse. You know, because she was actually nice.
After that great start, I was expecting nothing but trouble by the time I got to the parking-permit-nazi. But I guess someone up there was smart enough to realize that it wasn’t a good idea to put me into a super-foul mood so early on a Monday morning because she was nothing but sweet. Thank goodness for small miracles.
I guess I’ve been kind of beating up on med students lately, what with calling them vain and everything (but it’s true!). It’s time to get back to helping my fellow med student make it through med school by providing them with real inspirational music. The songs today are actually suggestions from a reader (yay!) and they all seem to be rather…inspirational. Because med students need a lot of inspiration sometimes. Especially right before the last exam of a long exam week. Or after being bashed by their warm and fuzzy doctoring class facilitators. Or after being on-call.
So the songs are: Eminem – Sing for the Moment, Aerosmith – Dream On, and Vivaldi – Summer. The first two songs are about doing your best and pursuing your dreams, something that we’re obviously doing as we struggle through med school. The last song is a classical piece that’s good to listen to if you need a little push as you’re heading down that last couple of hours before an exam.
Thanks for the suggestions! Keep them coming!
So you haven’t been reading my blog and you’re considering going to grad school, but you’re not sure if it’s right for you? Well, not to fear, all you have to do is answer a few questions and you’ll have your answer.
Do you…
…enjoy being forced to look at really old figures from really old papers that you have no idea about and draw the same conclusions as said old papers written by people way more brilliant than you for entire semesters/quarters at a time?
…enjoy being put on the spot even though you haven’t the faintest idea what the hell is going on?
…enjoy looking like an idiot all of the time because you have no idea what’s going on?
…enjoy giving talks about your research that no one cares about or that isn’t going anywhere?
…enjoy spending all of your waking hours in the lab and then some?
…enjoy being at the mercy of a narcissistic/bipoloar/passive-aggressive idiot?
…enjoy doing a whole shitload of work for peanuts?
…enjoy doing said shitload of work only to have your narcissistic/bipolar/passive-aggressive idiot major professor take all the credit?
…never want to finish school because that means you’ll have to find a real job?
If you answered yes to five or more of these questions, then grad school is definitely for you. Run, don’t walk!
Published on
2 years, 10 months ago in
house-isms.
WILSON: She wants me to take Hector.
HOUSE: Pool boy?
WILSON: Dog.
HOUSE: No longer interested.
HOUSE: I asked her as a test.
WILSON: What would you have learned if she’d said yes?
HOUSE: A lot about bondage.
What’s life without the ability to make stupid choices?
There’s a lot of porn piling up on the internet. Doesn’t download itself.
CUDDY: Maybe I just want a friend and I thought Wilson was a safe choice.
HOUSE: I’m not safe? Cool.
I don’t usually put out on my first date, but I gotta say, that is a rad move.
We’re saving your life. We’re that good.
If you keep yelling, I’ll think you owe me sex.
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Come take a tour of the medical blogging universe at Grand Rounds today hosted by Med Valley High.
Ah, the joys of being the lowest of the low. Well, technically not quite since undergrads are just a tad lower. But I’m sure that in the eyes of the all-mighty-far-above-us professors, we’re all the same, undergrad, grad student, ant…there’s really no difference to them. So is it really surprising that when things don’t go as planned, I get blamed? I guess not. But it still sucks. And I’m still going to complain.
I’ve been trying to schedule some more doomed-to-fail experiments. Problem is our institution has pesky animal protocols that we have to write and follow and I personally think that I need to update the protocol before we continue because we’re changing things up a bit. I’ve been in communication with my collaborators about scheduling and in every single email, I’ve asked them to tell me if the protocol is okay. I even went so far as to volunteer to update it if needed. But no one addressed my point. Not even once in five exchanges. Until I failed to order the animals because I wasn’t sure if I could use the protocol. Then guess whose fault it was. Mine, of course. Well, sorry for following the rules so that you wouldn’t get in trouble. And of course, if I had gone ahead and ordered the animals and then they later got in trouble, we all know who would have been blamed. It’s simply a no-win situation for me.
Not only that, but because my major professor is an idiot, he told our collaborators that we were going to do one thing and told me that we were doing another. Well, I scheduled the another thing with our collaborators and now they think I’m the idiot flip-flopping out of nowhere.
Can you tell that I’m just simply loving grad school here? Yep. Every single minute.
I was so busy doing nothing this week that I completely forgot to celebrate my one-year blogiversary. Yes, it’s true, it’s been over a year since I started my ranting and raving and it’s time to celebrate because I never thought I would have kept it up for so long. Only problem is, I couldn’t think of an appropriate song because I don’t listen to happy, celebratory music at all. So please forgive me if my song choice sucks. I’m celebrating inside, I swear. Anyway, my song for this occasion is from one of my favorite anime series, Bleach. It’s called Tonight, Tonight, Tonight by Beat Crusaders. Oh, and it’s in Japanese. Thanks for reading and commenting. Without you, I would have quit long ago.
And please, if you don’t want to see another pathetic attempt on my part to come up with happy songs, send me some suggestions here.
Published on
2 years, 10 months ago in
house-isms.
Stop! Don’t move. The way the soft evening light catches your eyes, the gentle caress of dusk on your hair as you turn around and leave my office without giving me that file.
HOUSE: Nice work.
CAMERON: He went home.
HOUSE: Work smart, not hard.
Dudes only go to plays if they’re dragged by women they’re hoping to see naked.
Hey! Don’t make me turn the hose on you two.
Never is reven spelled backwards.
Panty hamster get a spin on its wheel?
WILSON: She’s a friend.
HOUSE: A friend with a squish mitten.
WILSON: It is a possible to have a friend of the opposite sex without—
HOUSE: Blasphemer!
CAMERON: Can’t I at least—
HOUSE: Waste your time? Wouldn’t recognize you if you didn’t.
You did not just pull the dead husband card. My wife died because she signed a consent form I didn’t want her to sign. Died.
There’s something wrong in your pants.
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