The stories

January 27, 2011

[Why I didn’t write for a dew days]

Roz and John Montrose Celebrate Seven Years with Champaign, Arnold Schwarzenegger, and the 7 Train.

On January 23, 2004 (that’s 1234 – I’m very proud to say), JM and I decided, “enough beating around the bush”, and started calling each other “boyfriend” and “girlfriend”. To commemorate the event, we spent last weekend seeking what my dad calls, “our highest level of amusement”. On Saturday night, we went to Asian Pub on a quadruple date (shout out to aileen, claire, gill, and the future members of a band called “My Boyfriend’s Band”). A side note: Asian Pub is a New York establishment that serves $6 entrees and $4 mojitos, which taste like a frat house. Surprisingly, it’s closing soon. Get it while you can, people.

After AP, we went to a CD release party for Carlos Gomez. It restored my faith that people my age do still like poetry. JM and I snuck out half way through, picked up a bottle of champaign, oreos, and popcorn, and checked into a hotel. For the next two hours, it was just us, snacks & booze, a king sized bed, and True Lies. >>>sigh<<< The next morning we had brunch in Chelsea at an awesome Belgian place [read: waffles with strawberries]. Finally, we spent the day in Queens at Spa castle.

* If You Cut A Medical Student, Will She Not Bleed All Over Her Patient ?

On Tuesday night I had a simulated patient – an actor who pretends to be sick, and I have to pretend to care about him. We get graded.

I flipped through “Mr. Fleischer’s” fake chart. He was a lawyer with a history of a heart attack who had chest pain. I turned to the last page, when I felt a quick biting pain on my thumb. A bulb of blood plumped out of the paper cut. I looked at the proctor – “No, sorry, I don’t have a band-aid. I’m sure you’ll find some in the exam room”.

And so began the worst patient interview in the history of history. Me – trying not to bleed on my white coat, looking frantically for a bandaid, apologizing to the patient, juggling questions about his chest pain while I washed my hands. Mr. F – getting angrier as he talked to the most amateur medical student he has ever come across. Once I got the hemorrhage under control, I developed a report with him via eye contact and asking him how chest pain is effecting his sex life… Anyway, I passed miraculously. From now on, there will be a minimum of 3 bandages in my pocket.

* Flakes Overtake Manhattan

In case you haven’t been paying attention… a record of 19 inches … (That’s what she said :)… you were thinking it too).

Also, in current events, it’s my birthday. Thank you to everyone for the cards, texts, phone calls, emails, ecards,and facebook wishes. Even my dentist office sent me an email. I feel very loved. And now, to make that appointment I keep putting off…

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