One of my favorite things in life is food — the act of cooking and baking, sharing food with friends and, of course, eating it. I don’t know about you, but I can personally attest to having very positive thoughts after filling my stomach with delectable sweets.
Walking into the conference room for grand rounds, I took a deep breath. I was terrified. My biggest fear was that I would hate it — hate the time spent in neurosurgery, hate the American health care system and even just hate surgery over medicine.
Most of my articles bear a similar theme: find activity, go on activity, discuss what I learned from the activity and my recommendations for whether or not my readers should pursue said activity. This one is … different.
I had one last beautiful, golden weekend before starting my OB/GYN rotation. I knew that I had to fit in one more memorable activity before my life became overrun with uteruses (uteri?) and babies.
Given my time constraints as a third-year, I thought that maybe I could change things up — instead of going to an activity to help alleviate stress, I could ask someone older and wiser than me for tips on how to de-stress. And who better to ask for advice than my 79-year-old grandmother?
The majority of medical school graduates are women, but the minority of surgeons and surgical trainees are women. The one thing that transcends all cultures appears to be a global sluggishness to welcome women into the surgical ranks.
Oh yes, I’m back without attack, like how I was before. / With growing strides and doubt that hides / away from breaking thoughts.
Monopoly, Risk, Parcheesi — I love them all. Board games have been an integral part of my life since I was young, and I attribute my childish competitiveness to the number of times I was beaten in these games in my childhood.
Our Health Policy student-leaders Aishwarya Rajagopalan and Adam Barsouk dissect the major policy changes of the ACA and the AHCA, offering their perspectives on the state of American health care.
Depression — the term itself certainly does well to evoke a feeling of doom and negativity. On an everyday basis, we often associate feelings such as the disappointment from a poor test score, the physical exhaustion incurred from a stressful day, and even the unexpected blight of cloudy grey skies, with depression.
As a budding third year just starting out on my clinical rotations, I’ve recently learned the value of a home-cooked meal — there’s only so much take-out Chinese, microwaveable pizza rolls, and leftovers from last week’s lunch that my tastebuds will tolerate. It was only when one of my friends pointed out that it’s been a couple of weeks since I’ve eaten a vegetable that I realized I needed to make changes in my life: specifically, culinary ones.
“What’s the matter with everybody?” asked Mrs. Palmer, a hopelessly demented woman with water wells for eyes. She had just endured her third consecutive tongue-lashing by the bulldog masquerading as a nurse anesthetist.