twenty-ten, part 2

Ike's top moments of 2010 (in no particular order, except for #1):

10. Starring in a Valentine's Day card
9. Burying a loaf of bread in our couch cushions

8. Watching The Ring

7. Conquering his fear of Cameron Diaz

6. Learning to swim

5. Taking a trip to Dallas to go to Him-a (Ikea...get it? No?)

5. Enjoying his first snow

4.Crashing a movie set

3. Celebrating Uncle G's bar mitzvah

2.Practicing his high jump

1. Discovering what his inner monologue sounds like (Please watch this video. Trust me.)

twenty-ten, part 1

Like every other blogger out there -- can I really call myself a blogger these days? -- I feel the need to recap my 2010, even though you've been along for the ride and can access my archives if you feel like you need a refresher.

In 2010, I decided to start this little blog to share my story of living in Small-ish Town, USA with my med student husband and our extremely photogenic dog. I know there are some of you that read this blog to see Ike's expression du jour, some of you read this blog because you too have a med student as a spouse and want to commiserate. And some of you (okay fine, just my dad) read this blog to see what I'm up to.

So, I'm breaking my recap up into three parts. The first? 2010 Recap: Life With a Med Student

January:

Y was a mere second year, still sitting in a classroom all day, not quite sure what to do with one of those knee hammer things. Sleeping and studying took up a lot of time.

February:

When one is still a lowly second year, they're still willing to roll around in the snow with their dog. Now, after having important things like surgery under his belt, will he still be willing to roll around in the snow in public? Time will only tell.

March:

After getting a white coat, I worried Y's sense of self importance would start to sky-rocket. Fortunately, even with all of the knowledge crammed into his head, he was still curious about the world around him.

April:

Y learned to balance the art of studying and being married. Sure, honey, I'll cheer you on at your 5k, but I'll be sitting in my car with my notes until you cross the finish line. But later that night, when we have a wedding to go to? I will not be afraid to show you my "I'd rather be studying" face.

May:

Studying for Step 1, the national exam that pretty much determines what field of medicine you're capable of pursuing, began. Our house smelled like a Starbucks.

Other thoughts on studying for Step 1: a, b, c, d

June:

Completing Step 1 deserved a reward, a vacation with a med school friend, David. David and Y have spent so much time together as med school classmates that they've started to look alike.

After weeks and weeks of studying, giving the side-eye to people who can make a living throwing paint on a canvas was completely natural.

July - August:

Y began his third year and started shadowing doctors. His first rotation: pediatrics. He seriously considered a career in peds...until he realizes not all kids are perfect angels like my nephew here.

(A few other lessons learned from peds)

September through October:

Y started medicine rotation and experienced shock when medicine nurses weren't as nice and bubbly as peds nurses. Was sad. Recovered once he realized that medicine doctors wear bowties.

Seriously considered career in general medicine.

(Also in September: diagnosing television personalities)

November through December: Y started surgery rotation. Strange stains started appearing on his white coat. Also notable during surgery rotation: Y began to start discussing gross bodily functions with a straight face. And weigh the pros and cons of diseases while having a few beers with friends. And was forced to do strenuous work like heart surgery on his birthday.)

BRB

Well, I've been a bad blogger. I'll be back soon. It's just that I don't type well in my Snuggie, and I'm not sure I can bear to take it off.

Yes, I realize I'm like three years too late with the Snuggie.

Hope you all had a Merry Christmas!

Lost Dog

If you remember, we had an Ike disappearance scare earlier this year. Ever since then, I'm sure you've been wondering what would D do if Ike actually did disappear?

Well, I finally have an answer to that question.

Things You Probably Shouldn't Do When You Realize That Your Dog is Missing, Yet I Did Them Anyway

1. Run around the house making noises that sound like a dying goose.

2. Run down the street to the Spanish speaking roof workers and realize that I don't know dog, white, or run away in Spanish

3. Realize that I, as usual, can't find my keys

4. Spend 10 seconds too long deciding which shoes are my best "dog searching shoes"

5. Call Y under the assumption that missing dog beats emergency surgery

6. Start to think about the design of our MISSING posters, then wonder why we don't just keep a stack of premade posters.

7. Realize that if Ike never comes back, we can adopt Harry (since our lease only allows one dog)

Harry is in New Orleans and may still need a home!

When I ran around looking for Ike in our backyard where I left him, the gate wasn't open, all access to the bottom of the house was sealed. So, my goose choking noises were a mixture of crying and confusion. Somewhere between steps 5 and 6 of my unique process, I heard a yelp from the backyard, and when I ran outside, Ike was standing in the middle of the yard as if he'd been there the whole time.

For a split second, I was sure he teleported.

Then I saw the hole in the fence.

Ike's competition

Y's parents gave us this book for Chanukah and I pretty much started crying as soon as I saw the front cover. I guess that's not saying a lot because I passed two stray dogs on my way home from work yesterday and may have cried a little. Note to self: stray dogs don't like pita bread. Try something less ethnic next time you offer them food.

But anyway, can you blame me for having my heartstrings tugged by this precious animal? Oogy was a bait dog for a dogfighting ring. He was turned into an emergency vet and was about to die, but a staff member at the hospital insisted that they operate on what looked like a hopeless case. A family brought their cat into that vet to be put to sleep, saw Oogy, and fell in love.

photo found on funnytheworld.com

Are you crying yet?

Of course I have another reason that this book makes me so sad. Does Oogy look... familiar to you?

I happen to think he looks a lot like Ike. (And acts like him too, based on the book)

Oogy, from his Facebook page

Ike (and Lauren!)

I can't lie, the thought of someone doing something so horrible to a puppy is horrifying, but it hits closer to home when that puppy probably looked exactly like my puppy. We have no idea what Ike's life was like before he showed up outside of the animal shelter in a box, crying, wormy, and mangey (hair was missing on his legs and tail and won't grow back on his legs). Luckily, I don't think it was quite as bad as Oogy's life as a bait dog.

Either way, I'm glad he found us and can now partake in such fun activities as sticking his head inside a roll of wrapping paper.

And after reading Oogy, I know his family feels the same way.

Frequently Asked Questions in a Medical Home

"WAIT. It's great to see you too, but before you hug me, do you have any bodily fluids on you?"

Reverb2010: Days 1 through 4

December 28: I made it through day 11 and realized that these questions are just not for me. Maybe I'm not sentimental enough, or deep enough, or there just aren't enough opportunities for me to insert photos of my dog. After the break are my 11 days of reverbing.

Ikesel Adams

I think more odd things happen to me than to the average person, and some of the best happen while I'm running or while I'm walking Ike. The other day while running, a little boy who looked exactly like Jonathan Lipnicki (aka The Kid From Jerry Maguire) holding a lightsaber blocked my path and showed off his sweet Jedi-slaying moves. He wouldn't stop or move-- I had to run in the street or face imminent death by lightsaber.

This is why giving Ike a camera was a genius move.

And it paid off. Two days ago, Ike and I went for a lunchtime walk armed with his camera. Dog owners here like to let their dogs wander the streets (they also like to let their children ride their bikes with toddlers on the handlebar sans helmets, or clothes for that matter) so, as usual, we came across a friendly dog on the sidewalk. The scene:

Ike and random dog start sniffing each other. Random dog is so excited he pees all over himself. Ike's tail starts wagging. They're becoming friends. Some butt sniffing happens. Ike is about to make a move to jump on the dog and --

REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEER

A cat comes flying out of nowhere, landing on the other dog's back, and starts clawing at him. The dog whimpers, wrestles himself away from the cat, and runs home. The cat is poised to pounce, sneering at Ike as if to say you're next, sucker.

Ike and I run out of there as fast as we can. Half because I am secretly scared of cats, especially this one, and half because I can't wait to see the pictures.

And here it is, the photographic evidence of the ridiculous scene I just described:

Is it wrong of me to be slightly... angry at Ike for this? WHERE'S THE GOOD STUFF?! NOBODY WANTS TO SEE YOUR CHIN, BUDDY.

drunk and....stupid?

When my friends and I have a few drinks, our conversations go something like this: "I have an idea! Let's have a mini Saints parade around Chicago at 1 am!" or "Hey! Why don't all 7 of us sing Proud Mary onstage at karaoke, and mid-song lead a parade out the door!" (Yeah, we like parades, so what? You don't?)

When Y and his friends have a few drinks, they have conversations like the one that took place immediately before this picture was taken Friday night:

"Guys. Question. Would you rather have Hepatitis C or AIDs?"

an emotional day for Ike

Why is Ike smiling?

Probably because he and I both got new toys: I got a camera, he got... a camera.

Thanks dad!

Why is Ike frowning?

Because I somehow lost his first batch of pictures.

They were so effortlessly artsy, too. A blur here, a blur there, a flash of whisker. So get excited, people. Because when Ike's photography makes its debut your life will be changed forever. Sort of. Okay, maybe not. But don't act like you're not slightly curious.

it's your birthday, here, hold a heart

Apparently, there's some social norm which, when faced with the requirement to do work on our birthday, stops us from stamping our feet and saying but it's my BIRTHday!

I disapprove. When I'm queen of the world this will be acceptable. As a summer vacation baby, I'm still not quite used to the idea of people having to do things on their birthday. But, people get sick, and yesterday Y spent his birthday standing in the back of an operating room for a 7 hour bypass surgery. I don't know whether this was better or worse than the birthday where I brought him Greek food that made him throw up, but, it's life.

I totally would have stamped my feet though. Just saying.

Luckily, the patient finally got their heart put back in their chest and Y got to leave the sterile field and go out to dinner with his classmates, who could commiserate.

And since one of our friends was shocked that I didn't take a "high-res picture of the candle" on our table(apparently I take too many pictures), here's a picture of another random object.

the post in which i tell you what i'm thankful for

On the first day of every month I wake up inspired and think to myself, "Wake up, wake up, wake up it's the first of da month." Then I think, "This is going to be it. This will be the month I blog every. single. day."

November was not that month. Neither was October. Or September. You get the picture.

Going out of town for Thanksgiving didn't help matters this month. But, I might as well be a good blogger and end the month on a high note by telling you why I'm giving thanks:


Fall in our front yard - it lasted all of 48 hours:

Someone who enjoys taking road trips and listening to dystopian young adult novels with me (that would be Y):

Family (even when they bring an airhorn to Thanksgiving!) and the fact that some of them live in pretty, pretty Birmingham:

the view from our hotel

One of my favorite drinks at Starbucks:

Scarf weather:

where has YOUR husband's finger been?

Things have changed since Y was a wee first year, when the first few notes of "How to Save a Life" were supposed to elicit excited goosebumps and he didn't know just how bad a day spent cutting open a dead man could smell. The good old days when he used to laugh at those unfortunate third years who had to *gigglesnort* perform rectal exams.

Here's what's changed: we are at that oh-so-pivotal point when Y can say "so then I put my finger in his rectum" without flinching and I, most certainly, cannot.

Scholarly Ike says: So immature. Rectal exams save lives.

Another example: medical school textbooks used to make us laugh. They still make me laugh; they seem so familiar and juvenile and make med school seem like third period or something. They remind me of the textbooks we used in high school, with bright colored boxes that separate the page into sections, including insets on the margin that explain key points and bolded vocabulary words. It's the pictures of diseased genitals thrown in there that catch me off guard.

This one's my favorite. No diseased genitals here, but check out those germs... your doctor is probably looking at your lab results trying to remember whether the disease you've got is the Giant Billy Ray Cyrus affliction or Slimy Raspberry Blob-itis or Suspenders McGee.

The pictures used to throw Y off too. At first he'd turn to the wrong page and jump backward a little, not expecting the full color, graphic images.

But now, Y and his classmates probably see so many diseased genitals that they're wondering why they're not in every book. "The Girl Who Played With Fire was great," they say to each other, "but what it was really missing was a picture of a rashy testicle."

It's weird that Y and I have gotten to a point where our days consist of such drastically different things (his, rectal exams and surgery; mine, editing, stapling, and filing) -- yet it's interesting at the same time. Well, I find it interesting at least. The recap of my day that Y gets must bore him to tears -- "...so then, my printer ran out of ink. I had to go down the hall to get some more. On my way down the hall I happened to be right behind the SlowWalker. When I moved to the left, so did he. So I cut to the right. And he did at the same time! Can you believe that? And then, the elevator went up when it was supposed to go down."

I think at the beginning, I was worried that seeing the sobering things a medical professional sees would turn Y into a serious shell of the person he once was.

Above: the person Y once was.

And sure, maybe he doesn't laugh as loudly at bodily functions as he used to. But listening to him and 10 other med students scream South Park quotes across a crowded Hibachi restaurant has renewed my faith in his sense of humor. Do not fear, newly minted med school spouses. Unless you hate South Park. They never grow out of it.