Life & Times of J.O. Morris, The

2011-03-27T11:48:00.000-04:00

Still struggling mightily with focusing on the positives things in life and downplaying the negatives... I don't know why, as the positives exceed the negatives by a wide margin.

I've been working on starting and ending each day putting myself in a peaceful state and making a list of five pleasant things in my life. I'm usually good for an hour or two in the morning, until I let one thing or another wreck it all. It's almost like I jump at the chance to be negative.

I got very jealous when some of my friends announced their acceptance into various medical schools. I don't really feel the life of an MD is the one for me anymore, but I'm somehow using it as a measure of accomplishment. I'm tremendously happy for them, don't get me wrong!

I have tried to examine the things I truly want and hope for and have compiled the following list. If I can accomplish these, I'll feel pretty good about things.

1. Marry the love of my life
2. Produce a few children
3. Golf every weekend, especially with my kids when they're old enough
4. Take my grandkids golfing often
5. Celebrate my 50-year wedding anniversary

And there you have it.

2011-03-01T17:02:00.000-05:00

Halfway through another semester and I can hardly believe it. Soon, fall term will be rolling around again, and aside from biochem i&ii looming on the horizon, I'm pretty excited. There are some wonderful electives being offered and I'm thankful for the opportunity to take them!

Not sure if I've made mention of it in the past, but for most of last term and half of this one, I'd been seeing a therapist. It started out trying to cope with the academic issues I was facing and turned into a whole examination of my life. I've learned a lot, and am learning even more now that I've made the transition to group therapy. It's crazy. I actually really enjoy it and leave each time feeling like a million bucks.

One of the best things that has happened as a result of my seeking therapy is that I'm, for the very first time in my 28 years, exploring my self-worth. It's always been dependent on the reaction of others to me, but now I'm seeing that it's got to come from within.

Using this new-found love for myself, I hope to be better able to deal with the inevitable failures and hard times that lie ahead. All I've known to do until this point is to be hard on myself about whatever misfortune I was experiencing. I think this change will lead to a happier, less stressful existence. My relationships with others will surely benefit, and I'm very excited for that, as well.

There have been some young ladies in my life recently... Two simultaneously, to be specific. Heavy flirtation with both, but no dates... Yet. I like one better than the other, partly to do with physical appearance. She has blue eyes like you would not believe. The other woman is someone with whom I come into contact more frequently. She feels like the safer choice in a way, as in possibly more of the kind of girl for the long haul. I should be all over that. That's what I want... But I'm a little scared. Also a little excited by the relative air of excitement from the other one. Hmm.

Spring break is days away. Golfing will take priority over everything. Can't wait.

Hopefully I'll get back in the routine of this again and have a lot of good things to speak of. Time will tell!

Reemergence

2011-01-27T21:29:00.001-05:00

Hello again, world.

I spent my entire vacation barely thinking about academics and it felt so. incredibly. good. Whereas once I'd planned to spend the break slaving away for the MCAT, I instead found myself golfing often and at some beautiful courses that were brand-new to me. For the first 9 holes at one course, I was on track to break 80! I ended up falling back into terrible form on the back 9 and shot high 90s/low 100s. I also had my first hole-out, and it was out of a bunker from maybe 20 yards away!

I spent a week at my mom and step-dad's, almost every day of which was filled with highly enjoyable times with my mom. I hadn't realised exactly how much I'd been missing her since coming to Big City University. It was amazing and I've spent each day since wishing I could go back and do it all over again. I sure do love my mama.

The time away from my flatmates was wonderful. One of the grad students had been driving me completely up the wall...unfortunately, we were only two or three weeks apart. Not nearly enough. It never is. After less than a month since his return, I'm sickened at the sound of his laugh. Can you imagine, to be sickened at the sound of laughter? It's a disgraceful set of circumstances and I'm trying desperately to put a positive spin on it. Ugh, bottom line is, I absolutely cannot wait to have a place of my own. Just another year and a half... another year and a half...

I didn't see my friends back home once during the entire break, and this was a point of disappointment and sadness...especially bad was New Year's Eve. All day I'd been going through old VHS tapes with my mom, trying to figure out which were worth keeping. There were some old home movies from when I was a little kid...I was taken aback by how much my parents loved me and the things they did for me. That had me feeling a bit emotional, and then when I realised how happily my parents were getting along, I really had a hard time of it. I miss my parents being together. I miss my dad. I miss my dad a lot. I hardly get to talk to him and see him even less. A terrible wave of sadness crashed all around me.

I tried to contact my friends back home to hang out and get my mind off of all of this, but none of them answered my calls or texts...until 7 or 8 p.m., which was a bit too late to hit the road to see them. There had been a bit of an emergency earlier in the day and had only just then been sorted out. Understandable, but obviously disappointing.

The longer I sat there, the more I thought about my dad and how he must feel he's been viewed since the divorce. I felt absolutely awful. I began to feel awful for all of the unpleasant things I may have said to him in my youth. I felt awful about how things have panned out in his life since the divorce. I just felt awful and wanted to talk to him and tell him I love him. So I called, and I nearly cried at the sound of his voice. It was exactly the same as it was on the VHS tapes from over 20 years ago. Several times throughout the course of the conversation I was nearly reduced to tears, for no reason that he could possibly have detected. I tried to set up a time we could get together and hang out, but he was kind of wishy-washy about it. He did agree that we need to go golfing together sometime, though. I became extremely pleased with this prospect. We talked for a while longer, and when we hung up, I felt a bit better than before I called.

The rest of New Year's Eve was spent in the guest room at my mom's playing some video game and falling asleep before midnight. Hooray.

I haven't really shaken that sadness that I came upon on New Year's Eve. Like I said, I miss my parents, I miss my sister, I miss things they way they used to be... well, for the most part. I've also been really struggling with feeling like I've let my parents down by not applying to medical school this year. I know they'd be proud of me no matter what I did, but I wanted them to be really proud of me. It all goes back to feeling like a failure. It seems like no matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, nothing seems to amount to anything. I know that's not true completely, but for the things that really matter to me...

Ugh. Just ugh. I feel so incredibly sad. I never see my friends, hardly see my family, don't have a woman to love, don't have any money, don't have, don't have, don't have. I just want to go back to being a newborn and start all over, armed with the knowledge I have now. Boy, I sure would make the most of all those years at home with my parents. I'd make the most of a lot of things.

In happier news, my classes this term are going well and I like them all. B's should be easily within reach across the board. After this term, I just have summer classes and then the next academic year before graduation. The end is so, so close. It's going to feel so good to be finished (at long last) and look toward my next goal...especially when I'm doing it from the comfort of my own quiet and clean place.

This wasn't mean to be as depressing as it turned out to be, but I guess these were things that I had to get off of my chest. Can't say as though I feel much better having done so, and I've a mind to delete it all, but in the interest of creating a history to look back upon, it stays.

Rebound

2010-12-03T10:05:00.000-05:00

Still feeling pretty upset about my academic situation, but at least I've been honest with myself this morning and accepted the fact that I knew it going to come to this for a while now. I was just in denial.

I've seriously explored changing my major. Again. Biology was never my strong suit and I don't know what possessed me to select a course of study that deals with its many intricacies. The only problem is that if I jump ship on my current degree, I'm essentially starting all over no matter what I pick. I can't afford (financially or emotionally) to start over, so I'm stuck.

Trying to accept the fact that I might fail one of my required courses. I can take it in the spring, but I don't know when I can take the second half of it...which means I might be in school an extra semester. Again, can't really afford it.

So, in a few minutes, I'm going to devote every waking hour to revision for that terrible class and pray that I make a high enough grade to scrape by. My, my. How my standards have fallen.

With the possibility of getting into medical school being equivalent to the likelihood of a white Christmas, I'm trying to refocus on a new target. PA school has always been second in line. I stand a fair chance for acceptance there, especially with good GRE scores. Maybe medical school can come later...if at all.

Other than that, however, I'm stumped. Graduate school isn't as appealing as it once was...perhaps with another area of focus, but certainly not this garbage.

This is a terrible position for someone like me to be in. I see doors closing left and right. The worst part about all of it is that I know I'm capable, and have demonstrated it time and time again in the past. The current run of things, however, leads any observer to believe quite the opposite.

Maybe I shouldn't worry about it anymore. Maybe I should just do what I can and see how things turn out, basically leaving it up to chance. Might be less stressful than what I've been doing.

At any rate, I'm going to hole up for the next 4 days, arming myself to the teeth with pointless knowledge to regurgitate in exchange for passing grades. Then, a whole month to relax and refocus.

Moving forward, moving on.

Good News, Bad News

2010-12-02T17:21:00.001-05:00

Good news: I'll have my entire Christmas break to do with as I please. No MCAT prep!

Bad news: ...this means no medical school for me! I don't even think a school in the Caribbean would take me.

Back to square one. What the hell am I going to do with my life? I'm sick and tired of my major. I'm sick and tired of not performing at the level that I know that I can.

Sick and tired. Done. I'm done with it.

Changes

2010-11-22T21:49:00.002-05:00

Yesterday, despite today's exam hanging over my head, was one of the nicest days I've had in recent memory. In between studying, I found time to watch two films with my favourite of this year's flatmates. We later had a conversation lasting several hours that was full of all kinds of 90s nostalgia.

Before I went to bed, the urge to listen to Hootie & the Blowfish overwhelmed me. It rather came out of nowhere, and I very nearly side-stepped indulging myself.

So glad I went through with it.

I looked up "Only Wanna Be With You" on Youtube and remembered watching the goofy video when it was all the rage on MTV years and years ago. It's actually a nice little song, and I don't care what anybody says. There was a link to "Hold My Hand," which was my favourite of their songs... as I was listening to it, I thought a lot about the negative, judgemental, and stifled way with which I've conducted myself since my mid-teens, especially as it relates to any form of art. I'm a terrible film snob, and pretty snobby about music and television, as well.

I can't really help that I prefer my entertainment to, on the whole, be challenging and engaging...but I sure can help flat-out refusing to look for the good in mindless entertainment, and I think I'll be a happier person overall for it.

So, today, I decided I'd either dig out my old Hootie CDs (still have them somewhere) or just download them. Ended up going to download them. I entered the band name in the search bar of my favourite pirating system and the first result was called something like "Top 250 Hits of the 90s." Hmm. I read through the song list and saw a bunch of songs I haven't heard in years...even music I would be embarrassed to be caught listening to now. Or, at least, would've been embarrassed to be listening to before yesterday.

It's fantastic. I'm 30-something songs into it and am listening to Counting Crows - "Mr. Jones" at the moment. I always had something against the song for some reason, but I'm enjoying it now! Other highlights that made me smile:

Seal - "Kiss From A Rose"
Everything But The Girl - "Missing"
Boyz II Men - "Water Runs Dry"
Suzanne Vega - "Tom's Diner"
Dishwalla - "Counting Blue Cars"

All of these songs are bringing back some great memories!

I watched the Karate Kid remake tonight and really had to fight to not rip it to shreds. First of all, having grown up watching the originals, I'm naturally biased against a remake. The one thing I couldn't get over was the film's title... there was no karate! The acting was generally pretty terrible... BUT! I did find some enjoyment in the fight scenes and liked the music the little girl played. One of my flatmates commented that it'd have been one of his favourite movies had he seen it when he was 8 or 9. I viewed it from that perspective, and sure, I can see it. That helped put a positive spin on the overall experience.

This won't be easy for me anytime soon, but I'm tired of being an outsider of sorts. I gave "House" a shot a little while ago, but ahhh, the guy's too big of a jerk for my taste. Immediately following it, however, I let myself laugh at Family Guy which was almost like Jesus coming back and announcing that God doesn't exist. Shocking. Terribly shocking.

All of this is kind of a personal fix for my anxiety issues. I don't reckon it could hurt. haha!

Exam season

2010-11-16T21:13:00.000-05:00

...begins now!

I have one this Thursday, one next Monday, and then another the following Monday. Finals start precisely one week from my last regular exam. I've got one per day Monday - Thursday...and then freedom!

The speed with which this term has passed is beyond my comprehension at this point. Perhaps it's that whole "the closer to the end, the faster it goes" idea so commonly used as a point of common ground between life and toilet paper.

Ah, the results of my ADHD testing are in:

It isn't ADHD, but anxiety. My psychologist has formulated a plan to help me sidestep this business and get back to making A's again. I'm incredibly hopeful and feel that the hardest part of the process is now over. Sure, I'm going to fight with it and will fail often, but I'll be winning more battles than I am presently.

In other news, it seems like I've been catching the eye of a few young women lately...becoming a daily occurrence. Today, a woman was flat-out staring at me as I walked by. She was pretty attractive. I just didn't know what to say that wouldn't sound cheesy. "Hi," probably would have worked. I'll have to keep that in mind.

Football (proper football...soccer) is going along nicely! My teams are doing alright. Sweden vs. Germany tomorrow! Hopefully I'll get a chance to watch it, or download it later. Still have the Stoke City vs. Liverpool game from Saturday to watch. Pulling for Stoke City.

Back to the books it is for me.

The upswing

2010-11-05T12:23:00.000-04:00

It definitely seems as though no intimate relationship will be forming between me and the young lady spoken of in the last entry. I've made no further advances, but now she's flat-out ignoring me. Let it not be said that I can't pick 'em.

Yesterday was bizarre. I was still wallowing in the gutter most of the morning, but the noon hour brought some surprises...err, well, just one, but it was huge...for me, anyway. After purchasing lunch in the union, I was on my way up to a favourite study spot and happened to run into a friend. We swapped exam nightmares for a bit and as I was about to make my way to my destination, a lovely blonde who'd been eating by herself stood up and gathered her things to leave. A cute one she was, indeed. No eye contact was made...blah.

But...she made it a point to exit through the doors nearest to me, rather than the more conveniently located ones. I looked, our eyes met, and she smiled. There I stood, dumbfounded. This woman was gorgeous...and she smiled at me, out of the blue. "Stop her...say something...go, go, go!" but nothing came out. I was at a complete loss for words.

I stood there for a while, mouth agape. My friend witnessed it and was having a similar reaction. Wow. When I parted ways with him, I scanned around for her elsewhere in the union but she was long gone, possibly to never be seen again.

It did wonders for my mood, though.

Then, a favourite football team (CSKA Moscow) decimated Palermo 3-1. It's the little things that help the most.

The rest of the day was uneventful, but I began to put things back into perspective and climb back in the steamroller so as to squash those items ahead of me which are causing me worry. Can't wait to get an answer next week...major, major source of anxiety and stress at the moment.

Junk

2010-11-03T22:30:00.001-04:00

I've known a woman for a while now. She was interested in me, but my sights were set elsewhere at the time. It seemed like she never really backed off and I recently became very interested.

She's backed off. Way off, apparently. Luckily, I've saved myself the embarrassment of making her tell me so, but still. It almost hurts a little more this way.

While I'm in the midst of stressing out about everything else under the sun (MCAT, applying to med school, this, that, and the other...), this is just one more thing to make me throw my hands up and yell, "Yeaaaahhh, why not? What else can not go my way right now?"

Feeling really lonely. Just about convinced I'll be a lonely man for the rest of my days.Anxious about my ADHD testing results (next week brings the results). Tired of my classes. Ready for a break. Ready for something new. Ready to go.

Obsession

2010-10-27T10:35:00.000-04:00

A young lady mentioned to me long ago that she felt like I become easily and intensely obsessed with things, only to later move on in favour of something else. At the time, I didn't really accept this idea...but now I know it's true.

Within the last two years, my major obsessions have been golf, medicine, and certain musical artists. There have been loads of miniature love affairs, which last anywhere from a few days to a few weeks. Most recently, the Bed Intruder song, as funny as it sounds, has been a tremendous draw for me. I was in the midst of studying for a series of exams and looked it up in a moment of desperation, needing a quick laugh. The result has been that I've listened to it several times a day since Saturday. I'm singing it over and over just about all day...just can't stop. During all of this, I was also obsessively watching clips from Mock the Week, as I mentioned earlier. I dropped that after a day or two.

Last year during Christmas break, I, for whatever reason, became intensely interested in football. Having never played a football video game before, I decided that I'd really enjoy owning a FIFA game for my xbox. I bought the latest edition, and sure enough, loved the tarnation out of it. I dropped it once classes resumed in January of this year. I had a brief revisiting during the World Cup. Several days ago, the idea to play it again hit me and it's been nonstop since. I've expanded it further by seeking out avenues by which I may watch actual games, despite not necessarily having the time to do so. Not sure if I'm going to let that stop me.

I remembered the other day, while watching Mock the Week, that I was intensely interested in Mortal Kombat video games at one time. I spent quite a lot of time memorising the button combinations that would perform specific moves for my favourite characters. Very clearly, I remember my mom saying, "If only you'd spend this much time and energy on your school work." I wasn't a bad student by any means at this time. Most of it came naturally and didn't require much study. My reply to her was something along the lines of, "Well, if my school work was this fun/interesting..." I've noticed that I'm not as excited to be at my current academic level as I was, say, a year ago. The material, especially molecular biology, is quite interesting, but studying it is tedious and uninteresting. I hate it. I'm bored by it... can't quite work out why. Maybe it's because I have to do it, whereas if I had the ability to do it at my leisure, I could be a molecular biology genius.

This is a problem. A big problem. I wonder what might happen if, by some miracle, I'm accepted into med school upon first applying. Will I burn out and be disinterested in learning the material just as quickly?

Hmm.

Things

2010-10-23T13:56:00.000-04:00

Haven't had to resort to studying in the bathroom since last weekend.
Was below the curve again for one of my exams...oh, wonderful. Feel I did okay on the other; won't know until next week, maybe. One more to take next week.
Won't know the results of my ADHD evaluation for three agonising weeks.
I've taken to studying to the sounds of nature...found a bunch of mp3s of birds carrying on, ocean waves crashing, etc. It's quite lovely and almost makes me forget that I'm locked away indoors. Bird songs do wonders for my emotional state. haha
Couldn't turn up for volunteering this week due to having been a bit under the weather in the latter half of the week.
Rediscovered Mock the Week on Youtube and spent my last waking hour Thursday night watching clips of the "Things..." segment. Frankie Boyle, Hugh Dennis, and Milton Jones crack me up like few others can.
Briefly, yet seriously, considered abandoning my current degree and taking back up with being an art major. Physics II is my last required class for med school, and I'll complete that in the spring. Oh, temptation. Money is a factor that severely inhibits my ability to jump ship. Only three semesters stand between me and graduation.
Had a great time playing (getting destroyed in) FIFA on the xbox with my flatmates last night. Competition was fierce!
I've begun organising my Christmas break schedule. I'll hopefully get in to shadow in the ER for the duration of the break. I'll begin my MCAT prep...and if finances allow, I'll take a wee roadtrip with my flatmates!

The end. heh

All things must pass

2010-10-16T21:55:00.000-04:00

The peace and quiet in the apartment has now come to an end. Grad Student I decided to get drunk and watch football. He's every bit as loud as my flatmates were last year.

...all this, the weekend before a big exam week for me. Feels like I just can't win!

So, I'm writing this from my bathroom. It's got a really noisy exhaust fan, so it drowns out GS I's ridiculous yelling at the television. I wish I would've thought of studying in here last year!!

I'm here to cater to your needs, but only to a certain extent...

2010-10-16T19:33:00.001-04:00

*Call bell*
Me: How can I help you?
Patient: Can you bring me some ice? ...A lot of ice?
Me: Sure thing!

I got a humongous mug full of ice and jaunted off down towards the patient's room.

When I entered, he and his family were very grateful. As I was leaving, I heard one of the visitors say, "On the rocks, please!"

I turned around and the patient had just opened a large bottle of rum.

I couldn't believe my eyes. He wouldn't give me the bottle, so the nurse had to go in and snatch it away from him. Unbelievable!

Connections

2010-10-13T20:29:00.001-04:00

Had a rough day yesterday...one of those "Never gonna make it to med school" days. One of my flatmates provided some encouraging words that didn't sink it until lunchtime today. More on that in a bit.

For the first time since the beginning of the term, I understood precisely what was going on for about a 20 minute chunk of my molecular biology lecture. It was exactly the second wind I needed to ramp up my exam-prep.

After class, I went to take care of some small things around town and happened upon a gigantic antiques shop. I'm drawn to antiques shops like moth to flame. There is something so mysterious, charming, and worthy of praise about them... not much produced these days is built to last, so naturally, I value highly the longevity of these items.

As I wandered around from one aisle to the next, I saw all manner of trinkets, furniture, and books. If only I could take it all home with me. I decided that I'd let myself buy one item (or a combination of items, not to exceed $20 in total) if something really took hold of me. The closest I came was with a shelf full of very old cameras. I have one that belonged to my great-grandfather that is in the precise style as all of the ones in the shop, but definitely higher end. Still, though, to see so many was a joy.

...and I thought about my grandfather, for whom photography was a great passion. It's getting close to 20 years since he passed and I miss him greatly. I often wish that he was still here to see me on my path to medical school, and I sure could use his guidance on all things academic. He was a doctor, but not of the medical variety. Anyway, as I was turning the camera in my hands, I smiled and wondered what his reaction would be to these items...I wondered if he'd greet them with as much approval.

I took the long way home. I don't recall thinking about anything in particular, which is rather strange for me. During a study break, I thought a little about the girl I'd met yesterday. My flatmates say I should snatch her up now before someone else does, but I'd feel more than a little weird dating someone fresh out of high school. Some part of me agrees I should dive in and see what happens. Uh, the rest of me is waiting to dive in after she's above the legal drinking age. ha.

I also thought about the advice from my flatmate...he was very encouraging when he said that I shouldn't worry about failure, that I shouldn't worry about my last year of university not being outstanding, stop doubting myself, and just go for it. Since I last met with my pre-health advisor, I've been thinking a lot about his advice to stay for another year to show solid academic achievement. I really don't want to. Maybe it's foolish to ignore his advice, but I made up my mind to do just that. I feel like I'm ready. Full steam ahead!

No time was wasted whipping out the MSAR and evaluating all of the schools I'd bookmarked earlier in the year. I removed some bookmarks, added some new ones, and made an Excel sheet with all of the pertinent data on each school. I can sort it by GPA, science GPA, MCAT, etc... time well spent! I picked a half dozen schools to which I'll apply and felt more motivated than I have in a month.

Just a few minutes ago, I spoke to my grandma for the first time in a few months (ah!!). At the end of the call, she mentioned my grandpa and how he struggled and doubted himself plenty, as well. End the end, he got to where he'd wanted to go. She told me to keep my nose to the grindstone, shoulder to the wheel, and in those precise words.

After we hung up, I thought more about my grandpa, and about this morning in the antiques shop. Maybe he is witnessing all of this, and cheering me on, to boot. It's a lovely thought.

The loveliest of mornings

2010-10-12T12:58:00.001-04:00

Mine eyes have laid upon a fine beauty, a mere hour ago.

Mine lips spoke to her words so softly and true.

My heart was aflutter, with enough energy to propel myself to the edge of the galaxy and back in the stretch of three short seconds.

Her hair, a lovely chocolate brown, draped alongside the edges of a perfectly oval face.

Her eyes, a striking blue, like the waters of the Caribbean, all the more enhanced by lightly applied black eyeliner.

Her voice, soft and gentle, and so incredibly feminine.

The blush on her cheeks, as red as any rose...

A stunning beauty, no question about it. For the better part of an hour we sat in close proximity, laughing, talking briefly of desires to run away to the countryside and leave the madness of the city behind...looking deeply into one another's eyes.

Josiah fell flat on his face in love...

...only to find that she is ten years his junior.

Par. for. the. course.

Josiah the report-writer

2010-10-11T14:12:00.003-04:00

I'm required to produce a report for tomorrow morning's lab. My progress thus far is outlined below:

12:45-ish p.m.: Computer on, Word open, let's do this.
12:50 p.m.: Title page and opening sentence written.
12:55 p.m. Checking email
1:00 p.m.: Facebook
1:20 p.m.: Typing and erasing a second sentence.
1:22 p.m.: "I should change my desktop wallpaper to something nice and autumn-like!"
1:40 p.m.: Facebook
1:45 p.m.: Glanced at report
1:46 p.m.: "I need new shoes." Resisted urge to visit various online shoe dealerships.
1:50 p.m.: Finished large mug of coffee
1:51 p.m.: "I'm going to get this report finished by 4 p.m."
1:55 p.m.: Facebook
2:05 p.m.: "I've wasted over an hour already." Feeling antsy. Wanting to do anything and everything not related to science. Looked longingly at unfinished painting... logged in here to write about my procrastination.

Now, for real, I'm going to get. this. business. DONE.

Out to sea

2010-10-09T01:34:00.000-04:00

Wednesday morning was one of the most beautiful we've had since March, I'd say. Lovely, clear, and cool. Ah, come on, winter!

Each time the weather begins to transition in this manner, I feel like my happiness is in full bloom. There is great comfort in the cold! Women are also usually all the more beautiful in their cozy, comfortable, and warm winter attire.

My only class on Wednesdays ends just after 9 a.m. The crisp air was completely invigorating and put me in the most wonderful mood. After buying my favourite seasonal blend coffee, I strolled quite leisurely to my car and felt glad to be in the moment. I watched the limbs of trees swaying in the wind and took notice of the way by which the light hit the leaves, and the shadows it made on the ground. Almost instantly, I felt the urge to paint.

I'm a terrible painter. Always have been. Years ago, I swore I'd not bother with it anymore...

...but I found myself in an art supply store a short time later, stocking up on paints, canvases, and brushes. I couldn't wait to get home, put on The Beatles' "Revolver" and paint until the sun went down.

I got back around 11 a.m. and set straight to work. Hours whisked on by, and at 3 p.m., I sort of snapped out of it and realised that I had to keep an appointment with my psychologist for more ADHD testing. It was the loveliest, most stress-free couple of hours I've spent in ages. It was nice to not think about SNPs, calculating the velocity of a satellite orbiting the earth, or the lytic cycle of phage T4.

There hasn't been sufficient time since to finish my painting. It's all I've been thinking about, though... makes focusing on my studies that much more difficult. When I get into my artistic modes like this, I'm rather powerless to resist. I have to cave in, and it's always terribly satisfying. It's like being caught up in a current and carted swiftly out to sea...only, it's enjoyable.

Another two weeks until my ADHD testing is complete, by the way. I'm looking forward to getting answers, or even asking new questions.

Ladies and gentlemen, fasten your seatbelts. We're experiencing some unusual turbulence.

2010-09-30T11:03:00.000-04:00

The results of each of my first exams are in and disappointed me greatly.

Molecular Biology: 62 (with the curve); Class average: 80
Genetics: 73; Class average: 84
Physics: 56; Class average: 60

I found out my molec score in the morning, genetics in the early afternoon, and the K.O. punch delivered by my physics score came in late afternoon. Absolutely devastated, I was. Worse still, I had a meeting with my pre-med adviser the next morning. I was still busy ripping myself to shreds over my poor performance, and his reaction to my plans to apply to med school this spring came across as if I'd slapped his mother. He suggests I pick up a second major and stay an extra year.

My first reaction was to resist.

My second reaction was to get a second opinion.

My third reaction was to just give the whole thing up entirely...but that only lasted a few minutes.

My fourth, and final, reaction was to just go with it. He's been doing his job for over 20 years and is highly respected by the university, as well as many physicians and representatives from medical schools in the state.

So, I have no idea what I'll pick. He gave me a list of related majors that I could easily knock out in a year, but none of them sound too terribly appealing. Maybe I'll take another minor or two instead.

Also, I decided that if I am going to be stuck in university for another year, I need to be making money. I've applied to a limited access training program for respiratory therapy, which I'll begin in the spring if I'm accepted. I'm going to take a bunch of medically relevant, easy-A classes at my university in the spring (at my adviser's suggestion), and will have loads of free time. I should be able to complete the program by December '11 and then hopefully get right to work...perhaps at Big City Hospital! I know a guy who does it part time while he's finishing his degree; also a pre-med. Good guy, probably get an in that way, along with my prior employment experience there and my current status as a volunteer.

Things are still not looking good academically, though. I can't ignore this fact. I've been seeing an expert on learning disabilities and had my first round of testing with him yesterday. Two more sessions should be sufficient to have a better understanding of what sort of problem I'm facing, and then the work will begin on working around it. That's what I'm most looking forward to...I can't wait to start making those As again.

Failure

2010-09-28T19:36:00.002-04:00

What would you like to know about it? You happen to be talking to an expert.

Everlasting light

2010-09-26T12:33:00.000-04:00

I had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of a patient yesterday who has done more than I could ever possibly imagine to make the world a better place. When I walked into the patient's room, there were people packed in like sardines...all smiling, laughing.

Went through my usual routine, got roped into conversation, and stayed for over an hour. It was impossible to tear myself away. The amount of joy and honest-to-goodness kindness and sincerity was absolutely overwhelming.

My face hurt something fierce from smiling so much.

The whole time, I kept thinking, "YES, YES! This is precisely why I want to go into medicine!" In all of my life, and in all of the different roles I've played, I've never been so lucky as to be a part of the lives of so many wonderful people.

I also had occasion to sit with a little old lady who'd been admitted only hours earlier. She was incredibly sweet, but definitely lonely and a bit worried. I sat and talked with her for a while and had her smiling within a few minutes. To enter a room and see someone a bit shifty-eyed and panicky, and leave with them happy and laughing...yeah, it's an indescribable feeling.

Lately I've been listening to "Brothers" by The Black Keys basically non-stop. When I got into my car, the first song to play on the disc is actually the first on the record (and my favourite)... "Everlasting Light." It's really more of a love song, but it feels appropriate when applied to my new-ish role as a volunteer. I especially like the second verse.

For quite some time, I've had a lot of pent-up feelings of wanting to just pour myself into doing things for people in need, and I'm really glad I've finally hit on something that allows me to do it...and gives me the freedom to pour it on as thick as I please!

Let me be your everlasting light
Sun when there is none
I'm a shepherd for you
and I'll guide you through
Let me be your everlasting light

Let me be your everlasting light
I'll hold and never scold
In me you can confide
when no one's by your side
Let me be your everlasting light

Oh baby, can't you see
it shining just for you?
Loneliness is over
Dark days are through
They're through

Let me be your everlasting light
A train going away from pain
Love is the coal that makes this train roll
Let me be your everlasting light

Things

2010-09-23T22:20:00.000-04:00

Thinking of becoming an EMT for a little adventure
Having some weirdness with a woman. I know she's interested...or was. Not sure if I am. Hm. I have no idea what is going on with my life in the romance department, to be honest.
Practice MCAT exam in the morning...and I'm about to have a beer and watch a movie. I've been up since 5 a.m. Probably making a bad decision.

Abandoned

2010-09-19T11:46:00.000-04:00

My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,

My heart is heavy once more, my dear, all from the plight of several patients with whom I crossed paths this weekend.

On Friday, I went with a group to an abandoned children's home to assist the nursing staff. All of the children have moderate to severe medical issues, and almost all of them showed up on the doorstep in the wee hours of the morning. What could possess a parent to do such a thing is completely beyond me.

The children were all so very sweet and excited to see all of us. There was an awful lot of laughter and smiling...the duality of the situation was a right mind-bender. Inside, I was torn to bits with sadness for these little guys who never have the chance to play ball in the park with their dad, go to the zoo with grandparents, and all of the other little things that I remember so fondly of my own childhood. Christmas, Thanksgiving... mercy. It was as if a tidal wave had struck me. Several times I caught my eyes going a little misty.

One kid in particular latched onto me. "You're my friend?" he kept asking. Each time I answered, I was a little more enthusiastic. In turn, he giggled a little more.

Despite being in a van full of cute, intelligent women on the way back home, I couldn't bring myself to say much. No one really did. The trip there was a wildly different story...I even traded numbers with one of them. Heh.

The next day at Big City Hospital, everything was really upbeat and pleasant for the first hour. I volunteered to go on many side quests for the nurses and met some lovely people along the way. The Nurse and I kidded each other a bit, and some of the techs who always tease me were in playful moods, as well. I'd not forgotten the children I'd met the day before, but I wasn't weighted down by those sad thoughts...it was their smiles and laughter that I was thinking about.

One of my favourite male nurses was working, which is always a recipe for a good time. Great sense of humour. We passed in the hallway and after a brief chat, he asked that I go visit one of his patients who was having a rather rough time of it.

I marched into all sorts of misery.

As the man was crossing a relatively tame two-lane street to his apartment complex, some soccer mom going at least 10 mph over the speed limit in her stupid SUV ran the red light and struck the poor guy. He was a pretty simple man in all meanings of the word. Hard-working, humble, man of few words... and quite lonely. Apparently, his family lives nearby, but no one had been in to visit. I can't imagine.

We talked for a little while and he asked if I'd mind sitting down and watching television with him. It was all I could do not to burst out crying. His story really got to me. He was so pleasant...how could his family practically abandon him in this way? I tried to reason that perhaps they were in a bad way financially and were unable to come because they were at their second or third jobs trying to stay afloat. I tried to think of anything.

Without making a conscious effort to do so, I went into overdrive trying to find ways to help him feel more at ease and that someone cares about him. It was another moment in the hospital in which I felt so damned helpless. I knew he appreciated what I was trying to do, but I don't feel like I broke through to him like I wanted. Ugh.

As my shift came to a close, he thanked me for spending time with him and asked if he'd see me the next day. I hated to tell him that I'm only there once a week. He seemed a little disappointed.

On the drive home, I began wondering if I should show up again for a while the next day. Maybe I'd send him a card, or some flowers, or something. Maybe anonymously. Maybe not. Undecided. I felt, and still feel, torn in two over the issue. I have a monster exam for which I'm currently insufficiently prepared and feel the need to work on rectifying that. The other side says that the exam is not nearly as important.

I think I'll think it over over a cup of tea.

May the grace of He keep you always,

J.O. Morris

Today at Big City Hospital

2010-09-12T02:22:00.000-04:00

I walked out of Big City Hospital today with dozens of sincere "Thank you"s reverberating around in my head and feeling as though I really brought some good into the world. Furthermore, I impressed the pants off of a teaching doc by performing a simple act of courtesy.

All of this was proof that it's the simple things that oftentimes matter most.

Josiah terrorises the patients and staff at Big City Hospital

2010-09-04T22:37:00.000-04:00

My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,

Another day as a volunteer at Big City Hospital has come to a close, and I cannot honestly tell you that I miss being an employee. The patients and nurses, for whatever reason, seem to appreciate my assistance more now that I'm doing just about the same thing but without pay...well, at least not in terms of cold, hard currency.

It was a great day....a busy day. I really enjoyed visiting with all of the patients and their families, and it felt especially wonderful to try and go above and beyond their requests to really make them comfortable. They all seemed so incredibly appreciative, and there just isn't any beating that!

There were, however, a couple of "moments" that made me squirm in one way or another. I shall detail them below:

1) While making my way around the ward visiting patients, I entered a room on the "quiet" side, where the patients who don't require as much aid are stashed. Before me, halfway between the bed and the closet was a patient...sprawled out face-first on the floor...

Oh, no. Oh, no. OH, NO!
I instantly saw the rise and fall of his back as his lungs filled and expressed air and felt a bit of relief. At least he's not dead!

Also instantaneously, I checked for consciousness..."Are you okay!?"

"...um, NO," came the response. I felt a bit silly having asked, but hey, at least I know that he's alive and alert.

I pressed the emergency button on the bedside and let the patient know help was on its way. Within 30 seconds, his nurse arrived and I practically yelled at her to get others. A few techs and nurses came running and helped him back into the bed...he seemed to be okay!

The story of precisely what happened was never relayed to me. I (unnecessarily) apologised to the nurse I'd yelled at to get help. She laughed and wondered aloud when the world of medicine was going to knock loose some of my manners.

Ever since discovering him lying helpless on the floor, I couldn't help but be gutted at the thought over how long he may have been there. The fact that he'd fallen is enough to tug at my heartstrings, but the possibility of him having been down there for 20-30 minutes is very real and very upsetting. Wow.

2) I was given an item to return to the nurse's station on another floor, a task I've successfully carried out many a time in the past. When I got off of the elevator, I thought the scenery seemed a bit different... I hadn't been on that floor in a while and I knew that there'd been some remodeling going on throughout the hospital, so I chalked it up to that.

Yeah, as I approached the nurse's station, I had a greater fear that I'd come to the wrong place... but I was stuck. No possible way to get out of this without any embarrassment. I told the nurse that asked what she could do for me that I must've gotten off on the wrong floor...another nurse called my ward and asked where I was supposed to go before I even knew what she was doing.

Oh, God, NO!

The ward clerk that was working is one of the ones who doesn't seem to have too high an opinion of me. Fantastic. It seems like anytime she's around, I just can't make an impression of any sort of intellectual ability. UGH.

When I got back, I just didn't say anything...and went and hung out one of the friendlier patients and their family for a bit. heh. I needed something uplifting.

3) On one of my many elevator trips, the doors flung open to reveal a man and his son inside. I told him to which floor I was headed, and he remarked, "Ah, the top of the line, huh?" as it is the highest floor in the joint. "Yessir," I said with a comical tone, "if you're going to jump, that's the floor to do it from!"

He did not see the humour in it.

Shock, horror, embarrassement. I felt my face turn bright, bright red.

The man said, "Oh, no. I'm not jumping!"

I didn't say anything for a second, kind of marveling at the stupidity of what had just come from my mouth..."Oh, no, sir...I didn't mean..."

He kind of laughed a little, but it was a polite laugh, and stepped off of the elevator.

I am the king of creating awkward situations. I immediately cracked up laughing when the doors closed. Only me. This could only happen to me.

It's fine to joke with the patients and visitors, but steer clear of the morbid kind of humour! I really shouldn't have needed reminding.

Can't wait to see what foolish things I wind up doing next week!

May the grace of He keep you always,

J.O. Morris

Josiah and the nurse practioner

2010-08-31T22:44:00.001-04:00

I made it to (and through) my lab this morning, but couldn't take the pain of my sore rubbing against my bandage. I, of course, had to park fourteen and three-quarters miles from my class (How does the parking lot fill up at 7:30 a.m.!?). It took me nearly 15 minutes to hobble to my car. I'm sure it was quite a sight.

I whipped off my pants in a careful frenzy. I noticed the pink which encircles the area of irritation had expanded. Also, the area immediately surrounding the wound looked a little like it was bruised. I began to wonder if the tissue was dying.

With some reluctance, I scheduled an afternoon appointment at a family practice just down the road. I psyched myself up for the absolute worst outcome, bandaged up my leg for the trip, and off I went.

First of all, everyone in the office (and I mean, everyone) was extraordinarily nice. The nurse who led me back to the exam room was not only pleasant, but quite lovely. She complimented me on my bandaging skill, and when I mentioned that I'm hoping to make that my life's work, she enthusiastically stated that I'm on the right path. Ha, I knew she was just saying that sort of thing to be nice, but it felt good to hear, anyway.

When the NP came in, she, too, was very pretty! With her was a student from my university, whose brother is in my major. Both of them were incredibly nice and supportive of my aspirations, as well as being impressed with my medical knowledge as it relates to my present condition...not that it's anything at all very difficult, but hey.

Luckily, I did not have to go under the knife! She put me on clindamycin (300 mg, 4x daily) and said I should apply a warm compress several times a day. If this still does not resolve the issue, I'm to go back and get diced up.

...as much as I don't want that, I sure wouldn't mind seeing that nurse who took my vitals and whatnot again. hehe.

So now, I'm sort of nervously awaiting the intestinal discomfort that may come as a result of this medication. She was going to give me doxycycline, but relayed that info after she decided on clindamycin. I took doxycycline years ago and it absolutely destroyed me. In a gentlemanly way, I expressed this to her, as well as my thanks for not making me take it again. haha

I heard the MD who owns the practice milling about, talking to his staff and patients as I waited for the NP to come in initially. He, too, was extraordinarily friendly! I've never been to a physician's office where everyone seemed so happy and so kind to the patients. I may have just found a new PCP! I hate to have to ditch my old one, but since he's about an hour away...

In other news, I have my meeting with someone in the counseling center about ADHD in the morning, directly after my a.m. class. I hope my discomfort is minimal. My class and the office in which my meeting will take place are a long haul from the parking lot. heh

And so the saga continues...

Josiah and the abscess

2010-08-30T20:33:00.002-04:00

Saturday morning greeted me with some slight discomfort behind my knee. Upon examination, I saw a small, red, raised bump. I thought that perhaps it was a pimple, although sort of a weird place for one to appear. It's happened before, so I wasn't too concerned.

As the day progressed, especially in the evening, it was irritating me a fair bit more. On Sunday morning, it was bigger and a little redder, with some pinkish colouration encircling it. Maybe it's some sort of bite? Whatever it was, I was not going to let it stop me from playing a round of golf (beat my best score by 8 strokes, by the way).

By Sunday night, I was in some agony...and wearing long pants...without anything between my source of pain and the pant material. I stopped into a drugstore and bought some Neosporin with pain reliever, some gauze, etc. and bandaged myself up.

The sore in question didn't seem to get any larger today, but it has become a darker red...and the diameter of the surrounding pink circle has grown a little. It's not too terribly sore if nothing touches it and I can walk pretty well (like 90%), so I'm using this (against my better judgement) as reason for not visiting a physician over the matter.

I went and did some research online, first with the idea that what I have is some sort of bug bite. None of the pictures I found really tended to match up very well. I eventually hit on abscesses, and this seems to be the closest match, although I'm not entirely sure.

Like a damned fool, I went and looked up how abscesses are treated.

My tolerance for pain is minimal, I'm not ashamed to admit. Oh, please let it be something that resolves spontaneously!

...not my kind of luck. Will probably go in tomorrow if there's no improvement.

gulp.

Josiah the volunteer

2010-08-29T06:36:00.000-04:00

...got to observe all sorts of procedures, most exciting of which was a stroke assessment. Afterwords, the nurse who'd performed it went over the findings with me outside of the room and asked me how I'd rate certain aspects according to the provided scale. Also, we went to a computer and pulled up the CT and MRI images. There was one image in the MRI series that looked a lot like something from ERP's blog and I got all kinds of excited when I saw it.

I knew precisely where the problem was...

...and as I was thinking this, the nurse asked me if I could point it out! Heck yes, I can. Without a second of hesitation I pointed to a bright white spot and said, "There!" He was quite impressed and I felt on top of the world.

It was one of the better days I've had at Big City Hospital. This week I'd been having some doubts as to whether I'd made the right decision in quitting my job and becoming a volunteer, but all of that doubt was erased within an hour of turning up. Very much looking forward to what lies in wait!

Hoooooly MOSES!!

2010-08-27T16:37:00.000-04:00

I wrote an email to my molecular biology professor this morning after class, partly expressing my exasperation at having my whole conception of the professor-student classroom relationship being knocked for a loop. See, he very briefly presents an idea and then begins asking questions of the class...he won't tell us the answer unless we're really struggling, but sometimes not even then, in which case he directs us to seek the answers on our own. I'm so used to the standard model, in which the professor opens floodgates of information and we're to open wide and ingest it. His method shakes up that comfort zone and places a tremendous amount of responsibility on each student.

At first, this really had me terrified. Going into the class, I'd heard a few stories about his exams and how no amount of study beforehand can make you feel in the least bit prepared. A 50 is apparently a good exam score... uhh. Not exactly the kind of thing you hear that instills confidence.

Now that we're starting to sink into things, I find that I really enjoy leaving the lecture with more questions than answers. I enjoy seeking out my own answers instead of them being handed down, and I kind of enjoy the insecurity of it all. I told him I feel like I'm lost at sea and unsure of which was is up. In his response, which I received just moments ago, his response was, "When you find which way is up, let me know, please!" How many professors in how many disciplines would response to an S.O.S. signal like that? Not many, and that's what makes the subject all that more delightful. He's adrift, as well...but obviously in much deeper waters.

For once, I'm studying a subject in which not all of the answers are known. To think that I stand just about as good a chance as anyone to find an answer...or to ask a question that will lead someone else to an answer...is so incredibly appealing.

I also expressed these feelings in the email, as well, along with some questions about epigenetics from a PBS special I saw a while back. Turns out that he did some ground-breaking research in that field and that the programme I saw will be shown, in part, during the course. That gave me goosebumps and got me a bit worked up, but what came next made me grin ear-to-ear and yell out, "NO....WAY!"

What caused such a reaction?

First, a little backstory.

On the second class meeting, the professor had two former students come in and speak to us about the class and how to succeed. We were invited to ask as many questions as we could think of, for these folks were his brightest students, he proudly proclaimed. One of them just received some tremendous grant and all kinds of accolades for work that she is doing in the field, and the other just scored a 39 on the MCAT.

A 39.

These obviously are not unintelligent folks.

The Q&A session was enlightening, but wasn't nearly long enough. We needed a few hours to really satisfy everyone's curiosity and ease their fears. haha

So, back to the response I received from my professor and the bombshell written at the end.

He'd given me some extra information about the subject in the PBS programme...just enough to really get me excited for section in which we study that phenomenon. It was followed by, and this is a (almost) direct quote, "I believe you would eventually perform very well in this class - you remind me of (the guy who scored a 39 on the MCAT), one of my guest student speakers on Wednesday!"

I've read it over and over again in the last half hour since that arrived in my inbox. What a tremendous compliment! That's even better than the one my genius anatomy professor gave me last fall. WOW!

Feels like starting over

2010-08-27T15:53:00.000-04:00

My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,

This week marked my last day as an employee of Big City Hospital. Not much else to say, except that I start tomorrow as a volunteer. I'll be in the same department and everything, so the change isn't going to be too terribly apparent. The exclusion of a paycheck isn't so hot, but massively shorter hours and less responsibility (freeing me up to witness procedures and such) sounds lovely.

Having completed my first week of classes, I feel a bit exhausted physically and mentally. My molecular biology class is downright devilish, but alarmingly interesting. Never thought I'd live to see the day something like that came from my lips. Microbiology was always a bit more my speed. Hm!

One startling bit of news was delivered this week. I'd written an email to a medical student in which I, among other things, talked about how my university career is going so far (not good enough to get into medical school). I listed a number of factors that I feel contributed to my poor showing, and expressed a little frustration that I'd worked like a dog in some classes but still failed to produce an A or a B. The response I received knocked me for a loop.

She said that I expressed a lot of characteristics of having ADHD. She knows, because she has it.

I was skeptical at first. As we discussed the matter further, I began to see it as a real possibility. A lot of things certainly match up. I got a little excited, realising that this could be the starting point for a new direction in my life. I certainly know I have the intelligence and the potential to do well, but I've been having a hard time following through with it in recent years. With a little help, I could realise my potential and who knows how far I'd go.

With a bit of fear, a bit of embarrassment, and a bit of eagerness, I went to the university counseling center and scheduled an appointment to talk with someone about this and to see if I can go through a proper evaluation and such.

Even if I haven't got ADHD, I do have some sort of problem that needs sorting out, and I feel like I'm reclaiming a little of my life with this first step.

Who'd have ever seen that coming?

May the grace of He keep you always,

J.O. Morris

Par for the course, part 23987209

2010-08-26T20:06:00.000-04:00

Highly intelligent, extremely cute girl who was in my microbiology class last fall is in one of my classes this term. I worked up the nerve to speak with her today...

and she's only recently acquired a boyfriend. As in, within the last two weeks. She'd been single forever, she told me.

Beautiful. Just beautiful.

haha. All I can do is laugh!

...and cross my fingers, hoping she's free again soon.

The psychology behind getting rip-roarin' drunk

2010-08-24T22:27:00.001-04:00

In times of extreme emotional instability, while not the healthiest avenue down which to travel by any means, I can understand why someone would drink themselves stupid. Furthermore, I can also understand someone with little to no experience with alcohol drinking far too much, as they haven't got any feel for their limitations.

What I do not understand, at all, is why people (especially groups of guys) want to congregate and drink until the point of passing out...or why they plan these events with such enthusiasm. Bro, we're going to get soooo waaaasted!

Logically, incapacitating oneself so severely should be among the last items on life's to-do list.

Some of ERP's latest blog entries deal with "partying" (a name for that activity that I always found to be so cheesy and silly-sounding), and Party Boy II made a comment to Party Boy I on Facebook about them getting all effed up when they reunite over Christmas break, which brought this on. It's something that I think about from time to time, but this holy collection of events all but told me that this post needed to be made.

Having a few drinks and getting silly is one thing (and an enjoyable thing, at that), but to take it to such an extreme... I never have understood.

I must admit that I am grateful for that behaviour on some level, though. It sure makes for great med blog posts.

Priorities

2010-08-23T15:20:00.000-04:00

They're good to have.

Lucky charms

2010-08-22T21:51:00.003-04:00

Ceci n'est pas une Josiah.

I've never been the kind of person who went much in to superstitions and whathaveyou, but one thing did emerge during mid-2009.

It seems as though I acquired a "lucky" pair of underpants.

As a child, many times did I hear tell of people having "lucky" items, such as pennies, a rabbit's foot, four-leaf clovers, as well as a wide variety of other interesting, and sometimes comical, items. There were several points in my early life in which I decided that I, too, should have some lucky article. I had a couple of lucky pennies, and somehow ended up with a rabbit's foot keychain when I was around 7 or 8.

What good fortune did any of those items ever bring?

None.

So, for many years, I went through my life never so much as giving a thought to anything of that sort... that is, of course, until somewhere around June 2009.

I'd purchased myself a new package of underwear...and there was a bonus pair included. Lovely colours (solid), quite soft and agreeable to the most sensitive of areas. Ahh yes, money well spent. Whilst folding the laundry after the first washing of these new drawers, I noticed one of the new pairs. Light blue. A baby blue, even. That's always been a favourite colour. Don't reckon I'd ever owned a pair of similar hue. Exciting times. Cause for celebration, Carnival style.

Now, the next part of this story is a bit cloudy to me. Although I'm no longer sure of precisely what transpired on the day I first donned those magical underpants, besides taking constant note of how wonderfully they fit, I do know that it was fantastic. So fantastic that, when I was removing them, I made an immediate connection between my good fortune and my underwear.

A charm was born.

From then on, any time something big was coming up, I'd be sure that my bearers of brilliant luck would be clean and ready for wear. I wore them on test days, I wore them when I was likely to encounter desirable women on a Friday night, I wore them to my interview and to my first day at Big City Hospital, and on my first day at my new university...which, incidentally, is what brings me to tell this tale.

Yes, on that day nearly one year ago, my first day on campus brought many delights of the female variety. I met many attractive and intelligent young women that day and felt like I'd hit the jackpot. Of course, I learned over time that all of them were too young and/or already dating someone, but the fact of the matter remains that I'd met more girls in one day than I had in the last 6 months back home.

So, this afternoon as I was folding laundry, it just so happened that the ol' baby blues ended up being the last pair in the pile. Primed and ready to go for tomorrow, they are, which shall hopefully be even half as successful as the previous year. I'm crossing my fingers, looking out through the window for shooting stars...

That was it?

2010-08-22T10:41:00.000-04:00

My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,

Well. The ceremony was lovely.

And she.

Looked.

Amazing.

Almost better than I'd ever seen her. Once, on the best New Year's Eve of my life, she looked better...but the circumstances had something to do with that.

I scanned the church for attractive women as we were shuffling out and off to the reception, but came up rather empty. There were two women who seemed like they were nice, but boyfriends/husbands/whathaveyou entered the picture.

I'd thought that something like this might happen. The very thing that dragged my carcass in there with a big grin on my face...nowhere to be found. I have to laugh. This is my luck. I can't even meet women at a wedding!

The reception went just about how I'd imagined it would go. Her stuffy relatives either ignored me completely, even after making eye contact, or were very short with me. Excellent! Her mom was in full swing in her role as Ms. Socialite, bragging about this, that, and the other.

I found one of Old Flame's sister's friends to talk to, and that turned out to be really nice. Yeah, she's married. Wouldn't be terribly interested if the situation were different, though. I saw some other people I used to know through Old Flame that I really liked and we had a good, but short, series of conversations.

Old Flame and I only spoke for 2 minutes at the most before someone interrupted. Her husband stuck around for less than 20 seconds, no exaggeration. Fantastic. At least I made the sincere effort!

The best part of the whole ordeal was being introduced to a friend of Old Flame's mom. The guy seriously shakes my hand, eyes me up and down, and walks off. Just like that. Wouldn't even make eye contact with me for the rest of the time I was there.

I am so incredibly glad that it was not me inheriting that mess today!

So, Ol' Josiah rolls on.

Maybe this, finally, will close this sordid chapter of my life.

May the grace of He keep you always,

J.O. Morris

This is it

2010-08-21T09:31:00.000-04:00

My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,

Today's the day. Old Flame will be Mrs. So-and-so in a few hours. I woke up yesterday morning depressed at the idea, and can't honestly say that today is much better. I did a lot of thinking about it last night before falling asleep, and it's got to be that I still wish things were as good as they were for a certain period of time. No better adjective comes to mind than, "magical." The whole affair was from way out of left field, completely caught me by surprise, knocked me for a loop, and so on and so forth. She was the funniest, sweetest, most compassionate, and certainly, most beautiful woman I'd ever met. Things were absolutely brilliant.

For a period of time.

Then she cooled off a bit. Then things were normal. Then she'd cool off again. Over and over. I knew she had a whole bundle of stress in her life, what with her family and some things in her past, so I tried not to pressure her or pry.

I was going nuts. A real miserable wreck during the down times.

I should've broken it off, but I was afraid that my doing so wouldn't make things any better. There was the distinct feeling of being stuck against the wall, nowhere to go. All I could do was wait for the good times to come round again...maybe make my break then.

But who was I kidding? Each time things were back to normal, I convinced myself somehow that they'd always be normal from then on. No more of this cyclic stuff, she's off that.

Wrong, each and every time.

She's the one who ended it, after three or so years of madness and ecstasy...never simultaneously. She reeled me back in briefly not long after, but then swatted me upside the head with the news she'd been seeing someone else.

It took a long time...a very long time...to get over that. In fact, it wasn't until sometime in the last 3 months or so.

We've stayed in contact, still good friends...we have a lot of the great conversations along the lines of what we used to have, but the sparkle in her eyes is diminished. It's kind of similar to a re-rerun of "Good Times." First time was brilliant, second time was still pretty good...but the third time, there's nothing there. It's flat and void of originality and life.

I've only met the guy she's marrying a handful of times. I liked him alright, I guess. He's a little whiny and has some questionable items in his past, but whatever. I'm not marrying the fool, and with the way things have been the last couple of months, it doesn't look like I'll be hearing much about him either. She's been far more out of contact than she has been in the past. Probably for the best, really.

So, in a few short hours, I'll put on my best suit and make the drive back my old hometown. I'll sit in a beautiful church, surrounded by loads of stuffy society types, and let this thing blow on through. Maybe during the reception I'll meet a nice, eligible woman and we'll sneak off to some little restaurant and lay the foundation for something beautiful.

Or, Old Flame will introduce me to a few who are somewhere in the vicinity of less-than-desirable, and announce to them that I want to be a doctor. The talons will dig in and I'll have to concoct some calculated and daring escape.

Or, better yet, all the women will be astounding and Old Flame will provide proper introductions, but they'll sense that I'm not from a family of billionaires and turn their noses up. haw haw haw.

Whatever. I just want it to be over and done with quickly and come back home. Classes resume Monday, so I've got far more important things with which I should be concerning myself.

May the grace of He keep you always,

J.O. Morris

Getting better all the time

2010-08-18T23:21:00.000-04:00

My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,

I packed my things and returned to my apartment Monday evening, only to find that the locks had been changed. Thirty minutes later, I had the new key and began hauling things in... and found that one of my new flatmates was present.

Turns out to be Grad Student! We got on famously and spent the next five, yes five, hours talking about a variety of subjects. It felt so good to have a flatmate with whom I could converse about world matters and who perfectly understands the need for quiet and a reasonable amount of order. He's incredibly polite and, at 2 a.m. when we decided to call it a night, he mentioned he'd stay up a bit and watch television...and wanted to know if the volume was low enough so as not to disturb me! It was an incredible moment, after living with inconsiderate animals for a year.

As I prepared for bed, I noticed that I was feeling a little ill. Perhaps it was due to not eating enough... I got a granola bar and forced myself to take two measly bites. Nope, hunger is not the culprit here. I felt incredibly nauseous...and worse. Oh, my.

I submitted to the first wave of illness around 2:40 a.m. At 3 a.m., noticing Grad Student was still awake, I knocked on his door and explained the situation. I asked if he'd mind running down the street to get some crackers and Gatorade, my go-to food products during times of illness. He was all too happy to go, and I expressed my gratitude a million times over.

Barely 30 minutes would go by and I'd have to visit the facilities to carry out two of my least favourite activities. I was completely miserable, beyond any awful feeling I'd experienced previously. What a nightmare.

Things very slowly improved throughout the day Tuesday, but I was surely not without copious amounts of misery. After procuring some medication to settle the stomach, as well as some ginger ale, soup, and so on, thanks to my lovely mother, I was in far better shape. I slept for nearly 13 hours last night, completely uninterrupted.

Today, I ate for the first time in over 36 hours...and showered. I'll tell you, the shower was far more enjoyable.

Another guy is due to move in tomorrow, and the last on Friday. I do hope that I'm in proper shape to greet them and assist with the transportation of their belongings into their respective rooms. Furthermore, I hope that they're near as decent as Grad Student!

May the grace of He keep you always,

J.O. Morris

There comes a time

2010-08-16T12:32:00.000-04:00

My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,

My return to Big City Hospital has been better than I thought it would be, but the magic and the excitement and my desire to be there as an employee have all slipped out through the back and are waiting for me to catch up in some destination unknown. Consider my two weeks notice to have been formally submitted.

Perhaps it's a mistake, and one that I'll regret greatly in the coming months and years, but this is what my heart says to do.

Some of the nurses weren't too happy, most didn't care (or didn't have time to). The idea of coming back as a volunteer was suggested by a few of them. I might do that...stay in the hospital environment, but only for a few hours one day a week. This will free up plenty of time to focus on my studies, decrease my overall stress level, and afford me the opportunity to still spend time with the nurses with whom I've forged a bit of a friendship.

We'll see. I'm still back and forth on having a medical career, and to what capacity.

Also, those who oversaw my management of the event I failed to organise all approached me recently and asked that I give it another go, but with several months extra to work on it. The realisation that the event would not be anything near the capacity to which I'd aspired was a crushing blow several months ago. Things have changed and I don't know if I feel the same passion for some particular areas of the project. I want to go through with it, but I don't know if I'll have the kind of people I need to make happen.

Furthermore, Old Flame's wedding is almost here. My desire to go is slightly above my desire to wake and find a bald spot upon my head. She's my friend, I'm happy, etc...but ahh. It could've been us. I'm glad that it isn't...yes, finally glad... but ahh. Plus, her family members make me squirm with their high society airs. I guess the upside is that there will be plenty of women around and I'm at my best in a suit and tie. Ah, I don't know.

That's what it comes down to, all over again.

I just don't know.

I just need a little hint of what I should be doing, what decisions I should be making, what I should focus on and what I should let fall to the side.

Maybe I don't need any of that. Maybe what I need is to shut up, keep my eyes open, and press on.

May the grace of He keep you always,

J.O. Morris

Lessons in Medicine, Act III

2010-08-13T22:58:00.001-04:00

To recap where we've been:

Act I: Worship the nursing staff

I learned this well before ever entering the hospital environment, thanks to the blogs I follow. I feel confident that I'd have learned this on my own, but it's good to be prepared in advance.

Act II: Know everything

Simple enough. Be on top of your game. For me at this point, this entails just minor knowledge of the conditions of certain patients, but mostly the whereabouts and general goings-on for the nursing staff and doctors who parade through Comes in handy when you're answering phones. heh

And, without further ado...

Act III: Use your common sense

So far this week, I've seen a number of examples of how plain ol' common sense can play a tremendous role in patient care. To be perfectly honest, I'm having a terrible time trying to verbalise this point. It just goes without saying, similar to how one knows how to breathe. You just know. Err, well, you know what I mean.

A confused, mumbling elderly person who'd been pretty lucid previously probably needs to be looked at. Dizziness, nausea, and seemingly unquenchable thirst won't be resolved by dumping more Pepsi down your throat. Again with the nausea; a patient who can't keep anything down probably shouldn't be given pills to be swallowed.

On and on and on it went. Sometimes I wonder how we've survived this long. haha.

It's such a perfect day

2010-08-07T00:28:00.001-04:00

My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,

Upon waking this morning, I took to running, skipping, hopping, and ecstatically moving all over the flat. I even stood there, silently, admiring the place for several minutes. Excitement swept over me as I thought about purchasing a classically-styled wall clock, a nice floor lamp, and some other little bits and pieces to add a touch of character. Ooooh, I could even haul out my record player and show off my impressive jazz collection to several close friends. Some of them have never seen the place!

The possibilities sweeping through my head were exciting and endless. The realisation set in that, in two weeks, three new flatmates will have arrived to spend a year and that at least one of them might be sloppy. Sort of put a damper on my festivities, but I quickly brushed that aside to enjoy the moment and reassure myself that nobody could be as bad as Party Boy.

Pharmacology and I parted ways this afternoon. Overall, I was really disappointed at the shallowness of the material...the book seemed as if it were written for high school students. The biggest tragedy was the last chapter, and the one for which I'd been so excited all term: Neurological Disorders. I was expecting some good info on Parkinson's and dementia, but instead, received only 3/4 of a page for each. The majority of the chapter had to do with blasted headaches and those confounded seizures. Booooooooooring. Ah, should've known better. Now that I'm thinking about it, there wasn't even the slightest mention of neuropathy. To think!

My pharmacology book was a rental and was due back by 5 p.m. Seeing as how the bookstore is in relatively close proximity, I reckoned I could spend the afternoon watching a little golf before I subjected myself to the unbearable heat of summer.

4:30 arrived before I knew it and it was out of the flat with me. I dragged an armful of books with me to the car and started it up... but there was a bit of hesitation before the engine cranked up. Hmm, that's not good. I turned the car off and waited a minute or two. Upon trying to start it up again, I was greeted with a rapid clicking sound from the dashboard...nothing from the engine.

Stupendous.

I know a great deal about automobiles. I'm so good (HOW GOOD ARE YOU!?), I'm so good that I can look at a car's headlights and tell you...exactly which way it's going. Thank, Mitch Hedberg, for the joke.

As I was saying, I know next to nothing about automobiles. I did, however, find that I knew enough to realise the battery was kaput. I phoned in for help at 4:40 p.m. Next, I phoned the bookstore to tell them of my tale of woe. The gentleman politely told me that he was sorry about my luck, but that if the book was not back by 5, I'd be charged late fees. Nothing anyone can do about that, so, there you have it. I thanked him for his time and disconnected. It took but one phone call to find a place nearby that could get me set with a new battery in under 10 minutes. Great!

At 15 minutes past 5 p.m. (nearing the expected arrival time of The Man With The Jumper Cables, everything capitalised), the bookstore phone and said that they'd be open a little later and that I could drop it off without charge until 5:45. I told them I was still waiting for assistance and then had to get a new battery, but I'd do my absolute best to be there before they shut the doors.

Help arrived at 5:40 p.m. Furthermore, I had to stand near my car in the heat for precisely an hour. Not only that, but it began to rain as The Man began to dissolve mountains 10 km high of corrosion crusts from the battery terminals. Perfect.

Ordinarily, I'd have been fuming mad. There's another situation which I won't go into that required my presence. I wanted to be there, as well. With all of this, however, it was looking like an impossible task. But yes, I decided to just throw my hands up and surrender to the circumstances I'd been dealt.

I'm so glad that I did.

The Man was rather friendly and we had a good conversation as he resurrected, however temporarily, my car's battery. I got the feeling, a feeling I don't often get, that he was a good and honest man through and through. A thousand utterances of thanks were delivered, and received well, as we parted ways.

The automobile service joint is, at least from what I remembered, right off of one of the main roads near the university. As I approached where I thought it was, I felt my phone vibrate. I'd missed a call and whomever it was had left a voicemail. I listened to it without checking the number of the caller.

It was the bookstore.

The time, it was nearly 6 p.m. The same guy I'd dealt with earlier said that they'd just closed and were sorry that I hadn't made it in time.

...BUT, as long as I could drag my carcass in there when they first open tomorrow, I can avoid being charged anything extra.

It was a beautiful moment for me. The money, ehh, even though I haven't got it (hurry up, financial aid!), isn't was bothered me. It was the situation. Another situation in which I find myself at the receiving end of a solid blow to the kisser, as they used to say. This, too, I resigned myself to and went about my business. To hear, however, that someone was going to cut me a break... cut me a break...really made me feel incredibly thankful! I tried to phone them back to thank them, but there was no answer. I'll arrive in the morning with chilled bottles of champagne, then. heh.

There were two university-aged guys in the auto store (which, by the way, was nowhere near where I'd thought)...and once more, I found myself in the company of friendly, talkative people. We laughed about how much we'd each paid for books for the coming year, and I spread to them the gospel of e-books via torrents and such. The younger guy, just starting out his college career, was beyond thrilled to find that he could return one of his brand-new, unopened books and take back his hard-earned $170-something. I was glad to have been a part of that moment. haha.

The changing of the battery was, of course, swift. The conversation as it was switched was lively and ended with the both of us wishing each other the best of luck in the upcoming year.

The situation in which I wanted to become involved had been canceled, so there was nothing left to do but go back to my lovely flat and do, for the first time since May, precisely as I wanted! I cooked a nice dinner and as I was sipping away at my Yorkshire Tea, my phone buzzed.

Miss South America returned today. She was on my committee for the project that failed, and I'm rather sure that she fancies me a bit. I wasn't too interested, being all swept up with The Nurse and everything at the time... but now that I'm off of that, and sort of in limbo with the lovely shy girl from lab, I realised that I thought of her frequently while she was away. Our conversation ended with me asking her to visit before classes begin. She agreed, but then took off on me... probably chased her off somehow. Ha.

Things are just lovely, all the way around. I can't believe my luck to be experiencing such joy so shortly after being such a miserable wreck. That much sweeter.

I'm off to watch a film on Netflix before bed. Haven't seen a film all the way through in a while. Nice treat, with a glass of Newcastle to accent it!

May the grace of He keep you always,

J.O. Morris

Finally

2010-08-05T16:58:00.002-04:00

My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,

It is my great privilege to announce to you that, as of five minutes ago, I am the sole occupant of this flat. The clouds have parted and the sunshine is raining down in all sorts of heavenly glory.

...and the place is CLEAN!

There is nothing to step around, over, or on to get from my room to the kitchen. There is no need for a doormat outside of my bedroom door to scrape off the assorted deposits on my socks so as not to track them into my pristine carpets... erm, well, believe me, the idea was seriously entertained at more than one point in the last year.

It feels like a brand new start. New opportunities, new beginnings, new, new, new!

Tonight, I'll prepare myself a celebratory feast. Off to procure the ingredients!

May the grace of He keep you always,

J.O. Morris

The plan

2010-08-04T13:51:00.001-04:00

The plan, as it stands now, is as follows:

Number 1: MCAT next summer
Number 2: Apply to a couple of med schools and a couple of PA schools
Number 3: Look at graduate programs in the Scandinavian countries and the UK
Number 4: Look at employment with Make-A-Wish Foundation.
Number 5: Look at employment in the golf industry.
Number 5a: Look for employment in a laboratory...actually use my degree. GASP!

If I get into PA school and not med school, I reckon I'll do that a few years, which will surely strengthen my application. It'll also give me an even better look at the life of an MD and I'll make absolutely certain that's the route for me. I'll apply to med school 3 times, and if I don't make it, I don't make it.

Back to Big City Hospital later this week after three weeks away. I'm nervous, and I'm kind of dreading it to be perfectly honest. It was a disaster the last week or so I worked. Nothing to do but roll the dice and see what happens, though.

Major update: O-chem and I have officially, and finally, parted ways. I destroyed the lab; almost certainly made an A. The lecture...not so much. Probably another C. I spent a few days ripping myself to bits over that possibility, but now that it's over? Pssh. Whatever. I did the best I could, and that's all I could do. Gotta move on.

Party Boy still has loads of his stuff here, but half of it is in his new place and he is sleeping there...last night was the first. It's unbelievably lovely to have peace and quiet in the flat. It's absolute silence. It's beautiful.

Now's the time for a cup of tea and some work for my last exam of the semester...and I'm doing it with a smile.

This just in...

2010-07-28T15:52:00.000-04:00

...only one flatmate selected for the apartment so far...and he's a grad student! His area of study is a mystery at the moment, but the lady in the office said that he was terribly excited to have been matched with someone studious.

Party Boy should be out this weekend, just in time for finals!

Josiah Orville Morris, this is your life...erm...today.

2010-07-26T10:54:00.000-04:00

My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,

I awoke before the sun graced this stretch of land with its presence today (5 a.m. to be exact) and have been frantically cramming mechanisms and random bits of organic chemistry trivia into my weary brain just about ever since. Two, ohhh joy, two exams this week. Lab final one day, lecture exam the next.

In other news, the project is still a sinking ship. None of my committee responded to my phone calls and subsequent emails that I put through on Friday. Darling. Absolutely darling.

When I arrived at the apartment this morning, I opened the door expecting the usual nauseating aroma of Lord-only-knows-what that Party Boy left festering under five pounds of clothes, books, and assorted food wrappers... I expected to see rolling hills of clothing and trash in a post-apocalyptic landscape of neglect and carelessness...

...but what I saw (and smelled) brought great joy to my recently-troubled heart. Boxes. Boxes with Party Boy's stuff in them. The faint hint of various cleaning agents in the air very nearly got me excited in such a way that had only been accomplished by females in the past. Oh, boy, oh, boy. The time of his permanent departure is near! The place will be mine, all mine...all nice and clean...and QUIET for just about three glorious weeks!

Last night was a strange one, for it is usually the time I set aside to spend with my mom while I enjoy her fine home-cooking. However, she's moved into my brand-new step-father's place. Just a few things to tie up after the honeymoon and my ties with that old house will forever be cut. My ties to that part of the state, in which I spent almost all of the last 12 years, will also be almost completely severed. There are quite a number of big changes to wrap my head around at the moment, and I do say that I'm not completely processing any of them at the moment. The big three thoughts on my mind are as follows:

1. Must make an A on both my last lecture exam and final exam to make a B in the class.
2. Have to make the call to say my project won't meet its deadline next week.
3. Wondering if I should explore some other avenue instead of medicine.

Still struggling quite a bit with #3 there. I'll say one thing for certain; Boston Med is precisely the kind of kick in the pantaloons this young gentleman needs to stoke that old fire. Thursdays starting at 10 p.m. are the wildest, most focused times I've had since deciding to become a doctor.

Finally, my dear, Sunday morning brought a situation to me in which never before had I imagined I'd willfully engage... an online lonely hearts club. I've been reasoning that it's better to do something, anything, than sit round feeling miserable. My hope is that I'll come across someone with with intellectual depth the likes of which I've never known, who is tall in stature, and with creativity and genuine love for all beings oozing from her pores. So far, however, it's just been obese NASCAR and/or Twilight fans who couldn't spell to save their lives. ...par for the course?

Yes, I think so.

HA HA HA, laughs the Lord above, at poor ol' Josiah. Pooooor ol' Josiah who is purposefully being dramatic to avoid returning to the exciting world of aldol condensation reactions, and the like.

May the grace of He keep you always,

J.O. Morris

Wasted on the...erm, elderly

2010-07-24T22:33:00.000-04:00

My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,

I've just returned from taking part in the first of two weddings in the span of a month in which I play some role...other than groom. It's that detail that's got me down.

The wedding was nice, and I was in top form. Too bad my charm was wasted on a bunch of women who were 20+ years my senior or were otherwise involved. The realisation struck me in the shower before the big event that there might just be some lovely young women with whom I could become acquainted. Sure put a spring in my step. Oh well. Maybe at the next one.

So tired of being lonely.

May the grace of He keep you always,

J.O. Morris

Trudging along

2010-07-19T13:57:00.000-04:00

My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,

It occurred to me over the weekend that my recent performance problems at Big City Hospital are to do with the volume of stress currently circulating in my life. I've put in for some time off, citing a need to revise for finals...which certainly is true. That's stressor #1, I reckon. I must make a score of 87 or higher to earn an A for the class...an A I so desperately desire.

Stressor #2: The project I've been overseeing for months is just about to fail. I've known it was going to happen for some time, but stayed optimistic. Our deadline is about to arrive and we have some major pieces missing. I feel like a lot of it is my fault. However, I think that I've done rather well considering the amount of leadership experience of this magnitude that I've had going into the project (none). In the coming weeks, I'm going to have to make a phone call that will make me feel three feet tall.

Stressor #3: The flat is a complete disaster. Party Boy is the individual responsible, as always...but he's outdone himself. Photographic evidence shall appear in the coming days on Living With Pigs. Let us all take a moment to pray that it will be the final update on that blog.

The rest are hardly worth mentioning.

I set my mind on sorting myself out after realising what was going wrong. Bright and early this morning I set aside half an hour for rigourous exercise. Pencilling in another half an hour later today, and continuing the trend indefinitely. Surely, the lack of exercise recently has been a major factor in my poor performance in almost all important areas of my life.

Furthermore, my diet is undergoing some changes as well. For the longest, I was the healthiest eater you'd ever want to come across. Sometime during the spring term, odd bits and pieces of junk food seeped into my diet, mainly for their convenience. Increasingly, I turned to these items without paying it much mind. At the grocer's Friday, I noticed my cart contained two bags of chips, two boxes of high-fat cookies, frozen dinners (Kashi, but still...), etc. I put most of it back and shopped like I used to. Fresh meats, vegetables, and fruits, whole wheat bread, and so on. Three days it's been now that I've reformed my diet, and I'm already feeling a bit better. Could just be a mental thing. Doesn't much matter!

Party Boy II, who I'd given a nicer nickname (now forgotten), moved out over the weekend. As the date approached, I thought how funny it was that I was sad to see him go. This time one year ago, I was dreading living with him. He was wild and out of control, at least according the the accounts of his nights posted on a social networking site. When I moved in, he lived up to the reputation for the majority of the autumn term. However, he got quite serious with a young lady and that mellowed him right out. He's still with her and whereas once he was an irresponsible party machine, he's now a focused, serious student who knows precisely where he wants to go. So glad to see that transformation. He's a good kid and I hope that he achieves all that he desires and more.

Still not sure how I'm feeling about a career in medicine. Really not thinking much about it...I'm going to wait until the fog I'm in blows over and go from there.

May the grace of He keep you always,

J.O. Morris

I don't know

2010-07-11T00:46:00.000-04:00

The last couple of times in Big City Hospital were neutral, by way of two extremes: Completely terrible and completely amazing.

The completely terrible part has to do with my interactions with the nursing staff primarily. My mental game was completely off. Someone would phone and as I was telling whomever needed to take the call what the issue was and who was on the other line, my brain took off on holiday. What the hell do I mean I can't remember who is on the line!? They just told me less than a minute ago! I also had trouble with keeping phone numbers straight. Don't know how many times I rang up the wrong person.

I felt completely useless and incompetent. The ward clerk, who I'm not entirely certain ever cared much for me to begin with, really seemed to be raising an eyebrow at me. The harder I tried to get back into things, the worse everything got. It's such an indescribably frustrating feeling, especially for me. I hold myself to an enormously high standard of quality, and I know that no one can be 100% all the time, but I settle for nothing less from myself.

During my last shift, I got really down on myself...the worst thing in the world to do, I know. When I was telling people about myself and that I want to one day become a doctor, I had to cringe when I saw their expressions.

On the upside, however, I had nothing but lovely patients all week. Not a solitary problem out of any of them. They were all gracious and personable and almost all were with me in laughter. There was one family in particular who I couldn't tear myself away from. The mother was in for altered mental status and her children, grandchildren, brothers, sisters, nieces, nephews, and even neighbours were there from the start of visiting hours until the end. Fantastic support and love. It was beautiful.

They were all very scientific in their career paths, as well, which was just a joy to speak to them about. Highly, highly intelligent people. Usually when I speak to such individuals, I'm intimidated...but not this time, even in light of my performance on the administrative end of things. We discussed film, literature, philosophy, religion, and tons about the physical sciences. Every last one of them were extremely supportive and encouraging to me over my educational goals, which meant more at those moments than they could ever possibly know.

In the middle of the week, at the tail end of my shift, a stunning middle-aged lady (and I do indeed mean lady) stopped me in the hall and requested assistance finding a particular room. Turns out she was in the wrong wing. The important part here, though, is that as she spoke, I noticed something very familiar in her accent. She comes from an area in which I have strong family ties and spent the majority of my early years. I told her about this and she found it extraordinary. What are the odds? I escorted her to the appropriate area just to keep speaking with her. Haha, found myself wishing that she were maybe 15 years younger... or that I was 15 years older. My, my.

So, at the end of my last shift this week (my least competent day in dealing with the back-end stuff), two or three visitors from various rooms came by the nursing station on their way out and thanked me for spending time with them and so on. It was a bit embarrassing, but as I was driving home, I felt glad for it, if for no other reason than to prove to the ward clerk and such that I'm not completely incompetent and idiotic. Ha.

I've begun seriously analysing whether or not medicine is the right path. I feel like I know it is, but when I have days...several days in a row...like I had, I really, really wonder. I've been giving serious thought to working for Make A Wish instead...still get to help people, and get to do even more of the part I love: making a real connection with people and making them happy.

I don't know what to do. I just don't know.

Burn-out

2010-07-06T23:55:00.000-04:00

Having some serious doubts about the project I'm overseeing. It's now just under a month before our first major deadline, and we are dreadfully short of our goal.

I organised a fundraising event the other day. Several of my committee members had other obligations and were unable to attend. Fair enough. Three of them said they might turn up (might as well've said no), and the remaining three said they would be there.

Some of the materials needed were supposed to be delivered at a set time before the event began. The individual in charge of turning up with these things holds a high-ranking position in our parent organisation, known for trustworthiness, promptness, and all of those lovely characteristics.

None of those were displayed in our interaction when they turned up nearly 90 minutes late. To make matters worse, only half of the items we needed showed up.

Hmm.

By this point, I was already a bit hot under the collar due to the fact that none of the folks who'd said they'd be there bothered to show up. There I was, on my own...well, just me and our guest. Beautiful.

Things went as smoothly as they could've gone with me running the entire show. It was incredibly stressful, irritating, and depressing.

With half an hour remaining in the event, in came strolling one of the committee members with whom I'd previously placed an immense amount of trust, and on whom I knew I could always depend. There was a brief, insincere apology. To their credit, they did step up and did their fair share after arriving.

There were some other horrors and blood pressure-elevating moments before all of this even, but the details are too intricate and frustrating to relay. Just know that I spent most of the day telling myself that that was it, that I was throwing in the towel, and that the whole damned thing was a foolish idea in the first place.

Still kind of feel that way, but as I'm settling in for bed this evening, I'm seeing things from a different perspective. Seems as though I've lost sight of the goal; why I started all of this in the first place. I can't wait to really get started with this! turned into I can't wait until this is over! in the last four months, and I'm kind of ashamed.

...and scared.

I wonder if I'll one day feel the same about medicine. A lot of people seem to end up feeling that way at one point or another, at least according to the med blogs I read. I suppose it's normal. I can't help but wonder if it might also be dangerous, however. I don't think I could ever forgive myself for a bad mistake with a patient whilst in a moment of internal selfishness. Selfishness is not a game I like to play.

So, onward and upward we go.

I'm mad about you, baby. Yeaaah, yeah! I'm mad about you!

2010-07-04T23:03:00.000-04:00

My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,

Today has brought many delights, a few of which I will discuss in light detail.

My urge to visit the driving range was strong, but the rain just wouldn't allow for it. Just as well, as I had some studying that needed doing. The heavy rain, on and off, was a relaxing backdrop. Peaceful.

Justin Rose won another PGA Tour event. Go England.

Saw the last twenty minutes of Germany vs. Argentina. Some of the most exciting football I've seen in ages. I was really getting into it.

US vs. Algeria has had some moments. 89 minutes have passed... 0-0. I think they got robbed of a goal in a few of the opening minutes, but I was off to the refrigerator to snatch up a beer. ... WHOA!!! US just scored a goal in extra minutes!!!! That was out of nowhere!! Brilliant!

As I was saying, I didn't see the whole play, but it sure looked like the goal was good. Doesn't much matter, because we won it with that goal. Whew.

Spent some time with Old Flame and her fiance recently. Awkward for the first half an hour, but a pretty enjoyable experience for the remainder of the evening. She was a bit bossy and I was glad to not be on the receiving end of that. Her family was wrapped up in its usual craziness, and I was glad to be able to sit back and not feel compelled to be actively involved. As much as I still love her, and suspect I always will, the book is becoming easier to close.

Received season four of Mad About You on DVD yesterday and had some time to catch an episode or two earlier in the day. I love that show dearly. First started watching it in 1995...saw a rerun late one school night and, as a young man of 13 years, took quite a liking to Ms. Helen Hunt. Oh. My. After about the fourth or fifth episode I saw, I took notice of the other entertainment opportunities the half-hour programme presented.

The mid-90s were an amazing time for me. Computers were quickly coming into peoples' homes, the Internet let you see websites built by people from all around the world (just imagine!!)...it was an exciting time, and I got the feeling of genuine good times in the United States. A good welcome! It was like a giant party. Really, a saxophone-playing president? Awesome! Oh, and cordless phones were such a novel thing to me. I'm still impressed by them, even with my familiarity with the iPhone. Haven't quite gotten to letting that one soak in yet. Might be a while.

Anyhow, Paul and Jamie Buchman represented everything I wanted. Great, loving relationship, nice apartment in a hip, swingin' city, laptop computers, cordless phones, an adorable dog... Ha. They had a certain kind of freedom that I was so envious of, being an enslaved student and everything. I used to read the USA Today at school in the mornings and just marvel at the world carrying on around me. I wanted a chunk of the experience, instead of sitting around cooped up and generally wasting time. Out there, I knew there were real-life Buchmans living a similar life. I wanted to find them. I wanted to find the real, honest American dream. Haha.

So, watching the programme necessarily brings back a lot of things from back then. Thoughts about past relationships entered and exited my mind. I was reminded how much Old Flame looks like Helen Hunt, and was a bit weirded out...maybe as a defense mechanism. Ha.

Then, I got to thinking about marriage and children.

I've made no effort to hide my desire for marriage, and possibly children, in these letters. Tonight, though, as I was thinking about things with The Nurse, with the Cute Shy Girl in my lab, with Ms. Edinburgh, etc., I began to wonder if I'd be missing out on the moment I was having just then if I'd been attached. Surely, I'd have been dragged off to see fireworks...not too terribly interested in them these days, to be honest. I'd rather stay indoors with the air conditioning. I checked Facebook during halftime and saw a post from a good friend about some event later this week. She was trying to recruit some lady unknown to me to go with her, but the woman had to reply in the negative, citing children as the reason. I felt glad that I didn't have to think about that; that I could get up right now and drive for 14 hours in any direction if I felt like it, and on a moment's notice.

...probably a temporary sense of freedom. I'm sure I'd rather have the love a good woman. Sure of it.

=)

Rather than ramble some more, I think I'll enjoy the last few hours of the obligation-free portion of my weekend...by looking at websites created by people from all sorts of countries. heh.

May the grace of He keep you always,

J.O. Morris

Ms. Edinburgh, Mr. Houdini, and me

2010-06-28T10:51:00.001-04:00

My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,

The weekend brought a few surprises, all pleasant. For starters, someone had mentioned to me a site called Chatroulette, whereby one is randomly connected via webcam chat to someone else elsewhere in the world. The prospect of entertaining conversation with strangers was of interest to me one particular evening after another strange day at Big City Hospital. More on that in a bit.

What I found upon visiting the site was cause for alarm. The first three people I came across were young men in the nude. Thanks, just the same, but I'll take my business elsewhere. Had a lovely, albeit brief, encounter with a middle-aged couple (!!) from the Midwestern US. A Prairie Home Companion was mentioned and we were all in agreement on its entertainment value. Three French teenagers were next and they kept asking if I listen to Tupac Shakur. Had to reply in the negative as a general rule, but stated that there are occasions on which I may be found to be listening to the man's music.

My last Chatroulette encounter was nothing short of extraordinary. She was as blonde as the day is long, but it was all very natural in appearance. She was lovely, and when she spoke, I was but a smiling, blushing fool. She came from Edinburgh, you see, and my, what an accent. For nearly three hours we spoke, and laughed, and laughed some more. Out of nowhere, she told me that I'm "terribly attractive."

Hold the presses.

This is front-page news.

I told her so, and she seemed to get a great delight out of it. We laughed some more and, as the conversation carried on, I felt glad to speak to an intelligent, beautiful, and ambitious woman who generally found me attractive on all fronts. Gave me one of those little pushes of hope, a sort of, "Ah, go forth, boy!" from the lord above that come round, never a moment too soon.

We spoke until nearly 3 a.m. my time and I had to work hard to force myself away. We exchanged contact information and already she's sent an email. It was a lovely message, typical of what I romantacise all letters from the island to be like. Almost straight from literature, it was. Superb in its styling. Oh my.

Three and one-half hours later, I was turning off my alarm and trying desperately to chase away the fatigue from my eyes and mind. That morning, my dear, I had a date with the golf course. The end result was impressive considering the circumstances, just two over my approximate per-game average! Beautiful course, not crowded, and friendly residents. Good day.

Now, on to tales from Big City Hospital.

Traffic prevented me from arriving at my appointed time. It's an irritating occurrence for me, and surely for all involved, and I do my best to avoid it on a consistent basis. As I entered the nurse's station, The Nurse teased me a little about my tardiness. Off to a good start.

I scrambled around the hospital, running all manner of errands, and encountering generally friendly people wherever I went. Some tasks were executed with a speed unanticipated by the nurse who requested the favour, and I got many big smiles and warm expressions of gratitude. It was, as always, a pleasure to do something for people who do so much for others...and often without so much as a proper, "Thank you."

There were four, yes, four, would-be escape artists on the ward. It was an exciting prospect to me, albeit perhaps a bit on the scary side. These are, after all, not well-minded people. All but one of them were well-behaved, aside from a minor incident here and there. The one who would not comply was a bit of a doozy.

Never did find out his reason for taking up temporary residence on our floor, but he surely displayed signs of only having a lightly-placed foot in reality. Kind of a irritable chap, he was. When there was an emergency in another room, the "guard" for Mr. Houdini had to be called into action. He chose this opportunity to attempt an escape. However, he only made it ten feet down the hallway before he was escorted back to his room by me and one of the nurses. For a few interesting minutes, I stood guard. He was well-behaved and settled in his bed to watch a little television. Hmm! Upon the return of his previous "guard," he was up to his old tricks. Perhaps their personalities clashed. heh. Guards were exchanged and things went on without incident for nearly two hours.

I was on my way up on the lift from running an errand for a stunningly gorgeous nurse (married, of course). My mind was on The Nurse and if I'd have the opportunity to inquire as to whether she might soon be available for a night of entertainment when the doors opened. Standing there, gown half-open and a bag full of assorted items in hand, was Mr. Houdini. I had not anticipated this.

Three nurses and one tech were on the scene. I stood before the open lift, blocking his entrance. For a brief moment, I saw in his eyes a glimmer of, "You'd best remove yourself from my path, otherwise suffer the wrath of my anger and desperation."

...and I reacted by nearly laughing.

Oftentimes in my life, when I'm experiencing something novel that perhaps I'd never imagined would happen to me, my natural reaction is to be overwhelmed with its novelty and be...well, entertained by it. It sometimes takes every ounce of effort to restrain myself and instead display the emotion appropriate to the situation.

So, there the six of us stood. The doors of the lift closed shut behind me. Mr. Houdini went for the button to call it back, but the five of us surrounding him moved accordingly, thereby denying his access. One nurse was gently trying to coax him back to his room with calm speech, but it was not having any effect. Another asked, "What's the matter? Don't you like us?" He said that most them were alright, but that he absolutely must leave to avoid being cited for an expired parking meter. I piped up and asked why he was in such a hurry to leave behind so many beautiful women, and that his insistence upon leaving must be hurting their feelings. He thought about this for a moment, but went right back to slight agitation and talking about insufficient funds to pay a fine.

Around this time, a couple of security guards showed up. Under their authority, he (mostly) calmly returned to his room. However, he lashed out at one of the guards and subsequently wound up being rendered unable to do anything of the sort again.

Just as that settled down, a man on the other side of the hall began yelling an endless stream of obscenities. The last thing that I heard him say before quieting back down was, "Well, I don't want to watch the (expletive) soccer, football, kick the (expletive) ball past some group of (expletive). This is unconstitutional!" It was a light-hearted, amusing moment for those of us at the nurse's station.

...but it did not last.

Stroke alert.

At the end of the day, a frazzled-looking RN hopped on the lift to head to the floor above my destination. I smiled and asked whether she was on her way home soon. She turned to face me. Her frizzy brown hair, pulled back, revealed hints of grey above her ears. Heavy bags, like someone had packed for a three-month expedition to the antarctic, under her bloodshot eyes... "This is only the beginning," she said. At this moment, the doors slid open and she made her exit. I spent a lot of the drive home wondering about her, what she'd experienced to make her look so war-torn.

Finally, in a completely unrelated note, as I made my way to an open desk at the library this morning, a book nestled in on one of the countless shelves caught my eye. It was an anthology of the works of a Japanese writer. A cherry blossom tree adorned the cover. I wanted nothing more than to pluck it from its resting place and devour it. I was put in the literary mood this morning on the way to university when I heard a bit of poetry from days long past recited on the radio. Hm.

May the grace of He keep you always,

J.O. Morris

The Nurse and other minute tales

2010-06-19T22:20:00.001-04:00

My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,

As I write to you this fine evening, the time is 8:48, Miles Davis' brilliant record "Relaxin'" is currently playing on my laptop computing device (song is an absolute favourite, "If I Were A Bell"), and the electricity is out due to a storm. It's actually kind of a lovely little moment and for it I'm quite appreciative.

My only wish is that The Nurse were present. Mmm, an incredibly romantic set of circumstances...a little slow-dancing by candlelight, a little whispering of sweet nothings, a little giggling. Ahem. Yes.

Blew an opportunity this week to ask her out. While I'm no great judge of when a woman is interested, I'm pretty sure that I was right this time. We sat in close proximity for a good half hour, laughing, talking a bit about ourselves, making a little physical contact... I lost myself countless times. My, what lovely eyes. Brown. Brown eyes! I never seem to go for brown-eyed girls. But my, goodness, they're lovely. Her eyes are not narrow and sharp as some of the other nurses' eyes seem to be...no, they're fresh and round and bursting with gentleness. She's incredibly sweet. Incredibly.

Overall, besides being all swept up in the clouds, the week went well. Some heart-breaking patient stories, some really beautiful stories, some just routine. One guy who has been there for months is starting to make great progress with his speech and ambulates well with assistance. When I started there, things looked grim for the poor man. It's an extraordinary thing, and one that I think is cause for cheer.

I took a little old lady under my wing. No visitors. At all. She was such a pleasant and upbeat person despite her circumstances. She's being transferred elsewhere before I go back next week, so we had a sentimental goodbye before I clocked out. Tears looked like they were being held back when she expressed her gratitude for my work. She told me that she just knew I'll make it to medical school and that I'll make a great doctor. Coming from her, that meant the world to me. She was a terribly interesting woman, having worked closely with a notable public figure for many years and then spending over a decade after retirement donating her time and efforts to a well-known charity. I hated to face the fact that she won't be there when I next clock in. All smiles, all the time.

My relations with the nursing staff continues to improve greatly, even to the point that we're all playing little tricks on one another. I'm feeling very comfortable and as though I'm amongst family.

Golf in the a.m. Got fit for some new golf balls and am anxious to see how they play. Looking to shoot an all-time low score...no cheating!

Ah, that's the power back on just now, 90 minutes almost to the second. Copy, paste, time for bed.

May the grace of He keep you always,

J.O. Morris

Mmm, check out that pubic symphysis

2010-06-18T23:21:00.000-04:00

X-ray porn!

I'm kind of partial to Miss May:

Rip van Morris

2010-06-15T15:22:00.002-04:00

I came home for lunch and since the apartment was empty, decided to stay and study in my room for the remainder of the day. It's devilishly hot outside and the very thought of making the trek from the university parking lot all the way to the library makes me overheat, even in light of all of the air conditioned shortcuts I've found.

Before I set to work, I went to a few of the websites I check daily...and managed to fall asleep while doing so. Seeing as how the desk and chair combo furnished with the apartment is quite awkward for anyone over six feet tall to utilise (no leg room whatsoever), I had to take to propping myself up on my bed. Ill-advised, I know. Many a time I've drifted off instead of carrying on through the wee hours cramming for some blasted exam (or series of them). So, yes, off I went to sleep.

Don't know precisely what prompted it, but I awoke and was slightly panicked. I looked towards my clock for orientation.

2-something p.m.

2-something p.m.!? Lab started at 1! OH NO! I've missed the quiz, I'll miss points on last week's lab report, and I'm going to miss this week's experiment!

Anger, expletive, sleep-dazed frustration and disorientation, etc...

I double-checked the time with my laptop. Surely I didn't sleep more than 24 hours! No! What day is this!?

At this point, things became a bit clearer and I begin to understand that I've only lost 90 minutes of study time. Whew. Now that my heart rate has gone back to normal, I'm starting to see the humour in the situation. heh

Nothing special

2010-06-14T19:57:00.000-04:00

My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,

Over the weekend, I had occasion to engage in the great game of golf with some of my oldest friends. The heat and humidity, even at 8 a.m. when we teed off, was almost unbearable for the first 30 minutes. However, once egos and excessive boasting came into the picture, the foul weather was the least of our concerns.

It was a brilliant match. One friend had never been golfing before and did extraordinarily well. In the end, we were all within 10 strokes of each other (but all way, waaayy over par), at least according to the scores we recorded. My cheating was kept to a minimum for a realistic idea of how I'd do in a tournament situation, for example. The score left a lot to be desired, but was better than how I've done in the past when I was cheating massively.

The lovely nurse I've had my eye on for a while has been more chatty and smiley than usual and the perpetually grumpy nurse has been a bit nicer towards me since our little breakthrough the other week. I'm rather confused as to what to do about the situation with that nurse I fancy. Loads of incredibly pleasant patients lately, but the amount of visitors they're receiving is minimal. There's an overall good vibe throughout the ward and it's the first I've experienced such universal happiness there. Even some of the doctors, normally charging round with furrowed brows and unwelcoming vibes, are a bit at ease.

Hmm. Seems as though Party Boy has procured vast quantities of alcohol and has organised a bit of a gathering. Each bottle cap that I hear hitting some surface other than the inside of the rubbish bin puts me that much more on edge. Perhaps I should join them and imbibe, myself. If only mastering my courses wasn't such a priority...

May the grace of He keep you always,

J.O. Morris

Women

2010-06-10T13:20:00.000-04:00

...coming out of the woodwork presently. Whoa.

Almost feels like I have my pick. That never happens. Hmmm! There are two of the lot that I'm quite interested in. One's in my lab. Very shy...but tall. Beautiful golden hair. The other's in my morning class. Stunning green eyes, light brown hair. She's a little on the short side, but is nice and witty.

If only they were from Glasgow. LAWDY!

Highlights

2010-06-05T23:41:00.000-04:00

Patient cussed me out good and proper and later told a nurse that they were going to get out of bed and kick my hindquarters. I'd clocked in less than 30 minutes earlier. Haha, welcome to Big City Hospital.
A nurse that I'd worked with once before, and who was incredibly crabby, was still...incredibly crabby. Even a bit condescending to me. It was on my mind to just not have anything to do with her for the rest of the day, but I carried on being as pleasant as always...perhaps a bit moreso. She warmed up later in the day and even expressed her gratitude for my work. I was glad for the turnaround and improved mood, and felt kind of good when I thought that maybe I had something to do with it.
Some woman kept accidentally setting off the call bell. All. Day. Long.
An amazing elderly male member of the medical team and I got started talking, and he was a right whirlwind! He's led such a vibrant and varied life. Extensive traveler, five vastly different and highly respectable careers (including the present one), nearly 70 years under his belt and he's still going strong. He rides a motorbike to work! On and on and on came the intriguing details. Some were put off by it, but he was so enthusiastic and ate it up when someone else got wrapped up in it, too. I really hope I see him around again. Made my whole month, that man did.

A few things

2010-06-04T20:53:00.000-04:00

BBC World Service at 11 p.m... if I can stay awake. That's ridiculous.

But funny.

Got the new MSAR today and I've looked through about half of it. I've selected 20 schools so far that I might be interested in applying to, most of which are in the northern and western parts of the country. Realistically, I think I'll only be able to afford to apply and travel to.. uh, 2 of them. heh

There was a nice guy sitting a table ahead of me in the library today. Kept making small talk. He looked like a womanising frat boy, to be honest, but he only called me "bro" once. There seemed to be a bit of loneliness within him. He mentioned not being from around here. My mind was quick to think of all kinds of possible situations, most of which were kind of sad. I kind of wish I was more talkative...not that I was skimpy with the conversation, but you know how it goes.

As I left the library, the main floor smelled so much like a hospital that I was getting a little worried. As is normally my wont, I let my mind wander and saw myself leaving the hospital after a long, exhausting, taxing day. But I was smiling.

So, I smiled as I left the library, even when the ridiculously hot and humid air assaulted me with a vicious frenzy.

Lover, come back to me

2010-06-01T20:29:00.000-04:00

Dear Peace & Quiet,

I love you. I miss you. Please, come back to me.

Yours forever and ever,

J.O. Morris

Moments of witticism

2010-05-28T11:47:00.000-04:00

There I was, wandering around on the third floor of one of the buildings on campus, checking off items on my to-do list for the day. One more task to go and then it was off to the apartment for lunch and a strong cup of coffee to propel me through the afternoon.

As I rounded the corner to enter a computer lab, a group of five people stopped me. Two moms, one dad, two teenagers. They looked lost. I remember the feeling...was almost a year to the day that I felt the same way. They must be here for orientation.

Sure, enough. The dad told me they were looking for a registration table. I told them that it was down on the first floor in front of Big Ol' Room.

Blank stares.

Oh, yeah. I didn't know where that was, despite the map, either.

I told them to go downstairs and take a...hmm, a left? Wait, no, take a right...then a left. Uh. Hmm. I... (felt embarrassed)

I led them to the top of the stairs, and as I did so, one of the moms asked, "Well, in which general direction is it from here?" Oh, that's easy. I pointed right. Everyone seemed satisfied. I told them I'd show them the way anyway.

As we made our way down the stairs, the dad asked, "Are you sure it's to the right?" Since I could see the room in the distance, I replied in the affirmative. Whilst descending the last couple of steps, one of the teenagers asked what my major was.

In a flash of brilliance, I said, "Civil engineering."

Laboratory fun...and games...lots of games, being played on me

2010-05-27T09:50:00.002-04:00

My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,

This week I found myself in the organic laboratory for the first time. I went into it quite excited at the opportunity...the lab and I have always had a strong attraction to one another. On top of my love for running chemical experiments, we get to wear white coats. I can't be dishonest and say I didn't scope myself out in the mirror a bit before leaving home, checking to see exactly how physicianesque I look at this stage in the game. It was a pretty good match, especially after swapping my contacts for glasses. A little extra glee on top never hurt anything.

Things did not stay onboard the lovely little makeshift raft of unadulterated happiness as I'd sensed they would.

Apparently, I missed the local forecast that called for turbulent weather. My poor raft stood not a solitary chance.

The lab was a complete disaster.

My glassware was filthy thanks to whomever came before me, so I had to spend a bunch of time cleaning that. My GTA and I later determined that there were two possibilities for my failure to produce the desired product: 1) Remnants of a past experiment still in the glassware and 2) Contamination of reagents by everyone else in the class who'd gotten them before me.

Probably a bit of both. Disappointing turn-out, for sure...but there's always next week, and then 8 more after that. On the bright side, I have something to laugh about as I transfer the memory to text. Perhaps these are the kinds of things I'll be fondly looking back upon at my graduation from medical school. Might even tell the grandkids.

In other news, I've taken out an MCAT prep book from the library and have set aside an hour or so each evening to reading through the review material. My goal is to finish a section each week and then spend inordinate amounts of time with practice questions and exams. Still have a year to go until I sit for the blasted thing, but I'm of the mind to never, ever let it be said that I drag my heels... err, sometimes...about certain particulars...

Coffee ice cream sounds like an absolute dream at the moment, if you'll excuse the abrupt transition. If I can finish about 50 problems relating to benzene and aromaticity, get a good start on my lab report, and ram my way through a chapter in my pharmacology book, I'll treat myself to a wee bit of this stuff...

May the grace of He keep you always,

J.O. Morris

Vår stjärna

2010-05-23T23:38:00.000-04:00

My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,

I suddenly found myself in the uncomfortable grasp of illness about midway through last week. Luckily, I had the opportunity to do all that one is supposed to do in such a state...plenty of rest, plenty of fluids, lots of Vitamin C, and a fair bit of green tea + honey for the pleasure. It's been years since I've become ill so often (last this year was in late February/early March). The only variable that I can control is exercise. I've really been slacking on it since midway through the fall semester...fell into a routine of not doing it, and well, you know how it goes.

Feeling almost 100% today. Took a drive this evening as darkness fell as I desperately needed to see something besides the same four walls of my room in the apartment. Besides, I'd almost run through all of the Eddie Izzard videos and was cramping up from laughter.

So, out and about I was, listening to "Are You Experienced?" and singing along (when no other cars were around) in my congested-nasal-passages voice. Several times, my eyes looked to the heavens, but only once did something catch my eye.

A lone star, twinkling at some great distance, suspended in infinite nothingness. I wondered, as I've often done throughout my life, how many other folks were taking notice of the same.

What I really wondered, though, was if somewhere out there, a young woman was gazing upon the same star and, likewise, wondering where her perfect match might be.

I'm here waiting, as patiently as possible, for our inevitable rendezvous. I'm ready. I've been ready.

May the grace of He keep you always,

J.O. Morris

Appropriate eye-rolling

2010-05-20T16:36:00.000-04:00

My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,

That professor I have from the East End is one of the most awesome I've ever had. He doesn't take guff off anyone. Some fool down the row from me today spent the first half hour of class texting, and when an announcement about a change to the exam schedule was made, she was hardly paying attention to hear it. She raised her hand moments later and asked for the missed information. What she received was an eyeroll and a "Yeah, moving on..."

That's the way to do it!

Of course, she was giggling about it after class. Of course.

(New Living With Pigs!)

May the grace of He keep you always,

J.O. Morris

Stormy weather

2010-05-18T10:28:00.001-04:00

I don't reckon I'll ever grow tired of this song. Throughout the years, I've turned to it in times of crisis and in times of joy...each time was as relevant as the other. Fantastic.

Having a prolonged spell of PMAD after grades came in. Furthermore, I became more aware of my non-existent love life over the break between terms. It was a big ol' self-pity marathon. blah.

However, things are looking up. I've made strong grades in the rest of the classes that make up one's science GPA, and I still have three of the core classes to complete. I'll probably come away with a 3.7, maaaaybe 3.8, and I can't be too wrecked about that. Also, Party Boy I is moving out in less than a month. Party Boy II and I are getting on quite well lately and I suppose I'll be sad to see him go at the end of the summer. Deep down, he's a good kid. Finally in the good news department, one of my professors is from the East End and thank the lord above, he teaches my 8 a.m. class. Dry humour at that hour is also especially welcome...further made more entertaining when examining those students around me who haven't a clue what he just said.

The scale is tipping ever-so slightly in my direction at present, and I'll take it. Gladly.

Tuned in

2010-05-11T13:13:00.000-04:00

My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,

I find myself this morning, as I have found myself on many mornings, pining for a time gone by; a time that preceded my entrance in this world by a strong sixty years.

Radio is something I hold with high esteem. When I was but a wee six year-old, my family did not have cable television...for any sort of visual entertainment, one would rely on the local broadcast stations or VHS tapes out on loan from the library. While I partook in many of the aged delicacies both sources provided (The Dick Van Dyke Show, I Love Lucy, etc.), radio stepped in to fill the vacancies left by my limited selection.

Never shall I forget that little portable radio I toted around with me, what one fine summer morning exposed to me a type of music that I loved then but swiftly forgot about, but was to return to focus in my late teens. Yes, at age six, when Frank Sinatra and Ella Fitzgerald came on, a sense of contentment, joy, but longing, overcame me. My, my.

Many a time I sat with the radio before me, listening to fantastic swinging numbers, whilst counting and organising my baseball card collection. As crazy as it may seem, I felt a real connection to those days gone by, especially since other areas of my life produced the same.

When we got our first video game system, the NES, on Christmas of 1989, the radio was neglected, never to rise to prominence in my life again, except in memory.

I was in my early teens when my paternal grandmother had somehow introduced me to those tape recordings of old radio shows one can purchase at The Cracker Barrel, for example. The adoration was swift in onset. There was something in the voices of radio announcers and personalities back then that one just cannot find anywhere else these days. The quality of production of many of those old shows, what with the fancy sound effects (all hand-made!), let you close your eyes and see it all in your mind's eye...your creativity filling in any blanks, or adding quirky details. I imagined what it must've been like to sit around the big radio set with family after dinner oh so many years ago, and take in such programmes.

As it was 21 years ago, I find that radio presently makes up the bulk of my entertainment needs. I listen to a station my university puts on which broadcasts a variety of music, from reggae to opera, but mostly jazz. Mostly, however, I listen to NPR. It's good to not be yelled and screamed at, bought and sold, and swayed in one direction or another by newscasters. Furthermore, I take great delight in shows like Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me and especially A Prairie Home Companion. Garrison Keillor and his crew presents to me weekly a slice of those days I've somehow, and quite inexplicably, have longed for most of my life.

May the grace of He keep you always,

J.O. Morris

The dream is over?

2010-05-06T23:59:00.000-04:00

My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,

Grades are in this eve. Disappointment abounds. An A, a B, three Cs. This, after a crummy fall term, makes me feel like applying to medical school would just be a waste of time and money.

I don't quite know how it all happened. I'm feeling a good bit depressed and lost. Where do I go from here?

Plenty of expletives and self-loathing to go around,

J.O. Morris

Gutter ball, a strike-out, and over par

2010-05-05T15:25:00.001-04:00

My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,

It's beginning to become the case that each time I find myself clocked in at Big City Hospital the whole day is filled with oddities.

Today, I spent a great deal of time assisting one of the nurses on my floor. Leading into this encounter, I was told that she's not the friendliest of folks and has a tendency to adhere strictly to the rules. The latter didn't seem particularly alarming...I'd imagine that's generally a good quality to have in a patient-care setting.

She was, first of all, in possession of the loveliest pair of eyes I've seen in quite some time. Crystal clear blue, enhanced by some black eyeliner, very lightly applied. Oh my. My facial muscles were beyond my control at this moment and along came a wide grin. She reciprocated and it was off to a good start.

I began to notice that she was approximately my age. Good sense of humour. Well-spoken. Highly intelligent and especially considerate and compassionate with each patient we handled. Oh my.

She asked what led me to my job. I explained about my status in university and where I hope to be heading. Many words of encouragement were expressed and she mentioned returning to university for a Master's degree in the fall. Oh, fantastic, la la la. An emergency arose in which I could not participate. I watched the whole team rush into action and work like fine Swiss machinery to stabilise the patient. Throughout the ordeal, as far as I could see, she maintained a face, a very attractive face, bearing concern but confidence. Few things are more attractive. Oh my.

I began to notice my increasing interest in her and wondered if I should even bother. This is something I ponder each and every time. I'm not a terribly attractive man, I don't think, but my appearance is more pleasing than it once was...particularly in my teens and early 20s. Having spent the majority of my life knowing, without question, that I was not much to look at, it's difficult to think otherwise. I'd like to have more confidence in that area, but I don't know that I can build that up without the positive input of others.

When the crisis was over, we resumed our duties and talked at length about all sorts of things. She brought up university again, expressing fear of sitting in a classroom with a bunch of 20 year-olds. Heh, I know all about how that is, and shared my experience. My heart was pounding as I spoke to her, our eyes locked on each other's... aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh. Oh my.

Then, it happened.

The thing that always seems to happen, in one way or another.

She said it like this.

"Thanks for trying to make me feel a bit better about it, but when you have a son who is only a few years away from being 20, you can't help but be a bit weirded out."

A son who is nearly 20.

She must've had that child when she was 10. No. Not likely. She must be older than I thought...which isn't of much concern to me. In fact, I prefer older women. But wow...no children, especially in their teens.

As my interest deflated, she mentioned her husband once or twice. Ah, just as well. So it goes.

When running an errand on another floor, I met a volunteer who was about as friendly as he could be. He had quite a bit of an overbite, proptosis, and an accent so thick that even I had a hard time understanding him at times, and I pride myself on having a great ear for accents. He was in his 40s and is attending school to obtain some kind of certificate...diagnostic sonography, maybe. Can't recall. While I waited for the secretary to finish gathering the materials I'd been enlisted to procure, the man and I had a lovely conversation. There was a deep sense of warmth and kindness within him, but also some inkling of loneliness. I wondered if he had many friends or any romantic relationships. I wondered how many times people may have taken a glance at him and figured him a simpleton and treated him as such. I wondered how many people stop to listen to him, stop to speak with him, stop to share with him. When I had to leave, I told him I was glad to meet him and that I hoped to run into him again. I meant it.

Big Tall Beautiful Nurse was there today. I smiled at her as she passed by...didn't even so much as glance at me. Well, whatever.

On the way home, I began digesting the day's events. I also began to get excited about packing up and heading home for a bit in between terms. In this strange transition state, I saw a Big City oddity that made me laugh and forget everything, except for trying to imagine what had transpired before I witnessed this. At a stop light, a man on a bicycle came whizzing across the zebra stripes. Ordinary enough, sure... the man was wearing nice dress shoes, slick-looking slacks... and no shirt. None. Bare-chested. He had a wild tangle of greying hair upon his head and what appeared to be a grey sweatshirt tied around his waist. Okay, so business from the waist down, crack party from the waist up. Where did his shirt go? Did he ever have one to begin with? What's the story with the slacks and dress shoes with the grey sweatshirt? Too many questions. Funny scene, but you'd probably have had to have seen it to really appreciate the humour. Hmm.

I shot my all-time best score in a round of golf earlier this week. I was still 40+ over par, but was significantly lower than any previous attempts. I lost a total of 9 balls, but I found 2...mostly lost them to water. Tough course, but boyyy, I was eating the challenge up! Absolutely loved it. I spent exactly zero seconds thinking of anything but the game. On a par 4, there was a sizable lake separating the fairway from the green. I was a bit nervous and changed clubs three times before settling for my pitching wedge. I took a deep breath, a few practice swings, and told myself that I was going to land safely on the green. I aimed not at the pin but right in the middle of the green. Swung, it was a great strike, ball was on a perfect line, great height...and plop! right in the center of the green, didn't roll more than half a foot. All that practice at the driving range is playing off. It felt good to start being able to have confidence in my club selection and knowing their distances. I still hit far more bad shots throughout the day than good, but the good shots were good.

That's all the news from the homestead presently.

May the grace of He keep you always,

J.O. Morris

Better get some more practice in

2010-05-01T16:41:00.000-04:00

My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,

This fine morning, over a lovely cup of coffee and note cards for my last exam, I made the decision to not only become a great doctor, but to become a reasonably good golfer, as well. My goal is to make it onto one of the mini tours. I reckon that if I keep putting in the practice as I have been, I can make it in another 15 years or so. heh.

One thing, however, that I won't do is get too wound up in the dream and forget to, first and foremost, have fun.

I have a date with some golf balls this evening and tomorrow morning. Mmhmm.

May the grace of He keep you always,

J.O. Morris

What will be one of the best days of my life...

2010-04-28T11:33:00.001-04:00

Tomorrow, I'm going to sell back my Calculus book and no amount of money will be enough to compensate for the misery and sleeplessness that terrible book has brought me. No more math classes.

Ever.

I'm...so happy that I could cry.

Sweet dreams

2010-04-26T14:24:00.000-04:00

Just dozed off for a bit whilst revising for my finals and had a lovely little dream. It was a Saturday morning and I was lounging around on the couch reading. A small child, my child...a boy, maybe 6 years old, with a mild case of bedhead (obviously does not take after his father) and footed pajamas...came running up to me. "Daddy, daddy! Can we play golf today? Can we!?"

I grinned.

"Yeah! That sounds like fun! Let's get some breakfast and see if mama wants to go, too."

My son ran before me into the kitchen. I was ecstatic and thankful.

I woke up and was disappointed to be faced with reality. No child, no wife...not even any prospects for the latter. Feeling a bit lonely. Longing for the day that my dream is reality.

Jag har sagt det förr...

2010-04-23T10:42:00.000-04:00

och jag säger det igen... gifta han inte.

Faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnn

Dr. Grupy-style encounter

2010-04-21T10:04:00.000-04:00

As part of my service as a chairman-of-the-board type, I regularly send updates on proceedings and try to gather info from my members via email. I sent an email last week asking what everyone's summer schedule looks like to judge whether or not we need to change our meeting days and times.

One of my committee members, Ms. Clueless, rang me up this morning.

Ms. Clueless: Hi, Josiah! I've forgotten when our next meeting is going to take place. Is it next week?

Me: ...I don't know yet. No one has responded to the email I sent last week asking about their availability. (Including you...)

Ms. Clueless: Oh, okay! See you whenever, then! *click*

4rgty948yg;waoslihf;opawqihgf;sakldh;aiowght

Strange days have found us

2010-04-18T12:19:00.000-04:00

My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,

Another really cute nurse was added to the growing list today. She approached me and we had a great series of conversations throughout the day. Her name, however, is not one that I've ever been too terribly keen on. In fact, it draws to mind 1980s hairspray hair, gum-smacking, and loop earrings so large I could put both of my fists through with room to spare. An unattractive mental image. She was cute enough, though, that I didn't think much about it. Besides, she can't help the name her parents pinned on her.

It was a strange day. Quite slow, lots of discharges. When I went round to each room to have a bit of a chat with the patients and fill any requests that they may have, I found that everyone was asleep, with a room full of visitors, or with their door shut. I didn't feel that I should go barging without a good reason besides friendly banter.

Later, one of the patients called and when I answered, he asked if I could hear him. I answered in the affirmative and asked what he sought. No answer. Hello? Hello? Hellllooo? I hung up and went briskly to his room, thankful for the opportunity to do something productive with patient interaction.

He just wanted to know when the doctor would be in to speak with him. I told him that I didn't know, but that I'd ask his nurse and get back to him. As the words were leaving my lips, I noticed his peculiarity...not what put him on this floor, but probably occurring simultaneously with the injury that did. I felt my eyes go wide. Stop it. STOP IT. I resumed eye contact, but I wanted out of there in a hurry. I felt awful that he'd suffered so, especially since every yokel he comes across upon discharge is going to stare mercilessly. I felt awful that I was briefly one of those yokels. I've always prided myself in being highly sensitive to the feelings of others, especially in situations when other folks would just gawk, moths agape. I've seen my fair share of terrible injuries on television and online. I even have been known to eat lunch or dinner while watching surgery videos, so something so tame in comparison shouldn't have been worth a second glance. Sort of disappointing, that was, but I suppose it's only natural. As time goes by, I'm sure I'll be less affected.

During my break, two nurses were sitting across the room in the cafeteria. I smiled at them, but got nothing in return. They looked back to each other and kept talking. Ooh. Par for the course today, I'm afraid.

Not long after resuming position at my desk, the call bell went off. It was the patient who spoke very little English, only some dialect of Chinese, and surprisingly had no family or friends. He said nothing on the phone. I entered his room and spoke slowly without being patronising. He was not understanding that I was asking what he needed. I asked if he wanted a nurse. Blank, frightened look. "Maybe later." ...so, what do you want? I asked if it was his bed or pillow which needed adjusting, or if he wanted the rolling tray pulled closer. I pointed to each item as I asked about them. "No," to each. Silence. Blank, frightened look. I began to feel frustrated, but certainly not at him. I want to help, but don't know how! He was holding the remote with the call button, tv button, etc. and kept looking at it. Finally, it came out that he wanted to watch television. I showed him how to turn it on, change channels, and adjust the volume. That was all he wanted. He looked sheepish and thanked me. It must be very hard for him to be hospitalised and not be able to meaningfully communicate with anybody. I kept thinking about that blank, frightened look. It was like some sort of primal fear that a wild animal might exhibit. No family. No friends.

Not half an hour had passed and a white coat enters the room...and plops down right next to me at the desk. Ohmyohmyohmy. Doctors don't stick around long during my shift. They probably sense that I am pre-med and want to avoid my thirty trillion questions and requests to shadow. Don't blame them...sometimes. He was around for nearly 40 minutes. My hands were shaking, as if it were someone I've long admired. When calls from other departments came in, I bumbled around like a fool...uncertainty and a lack of confidence had set in. I tried to talk myself out of it. These people don't know just how little confidence you have. You're an actor in a film; be what the scene calls for. No one will be the wiser. It worked. Soon, I was joking with the charge nurse and handling calls confidently...but I couldn't muster the courage to say anything to the doctor. Part of that was not wanting to bother him.

The doctor was looking at MRI images. Somebody had something bad going on. Tumor.

Another doctor came in and I got to listen to a bit of the conversation about risks and benefits of surgery. They ultimately decided that the best course of action would be to try to cut the beast out.

They turned to me, asking whether or not I knew if the patient's family were around...to translate.

Oh, my. It was Mr. Blankenfrightened.

Someone actually happened to be around, a nurse on another floor, who spoke the patient's dialect. After a 5-minute discussion, everyone exited and the doctor sat down beside again and began dictating. The patient wanted to proceed with surgery.

Good for him, I thought. I began hoping that the surgery would be a success and there'd be no lasting effects from the invasion (and removal) of that awful mass.

I carried on, having a good time joking with the charge nurse. Very funny, very, very dry and morbid sense of humour. It was brilliant. Everything about him was slow and calculated and he always appeared to be on the verge of a smile. He was a reassuring presence, and I do hope that in the future, my attendings are all like him.

Not going to happen, but it's nice to dream.

As my shift winded down, I couldn't shake the feeling of strangeness that had been cast over the entire day. I was glad to clock out and be on my way home.

After dinner, I was still feeling a bit off and had a fair amount of pent-up energy I wanted to rid myself of before resuming my studies. Ah, let's take it on out to the driving range. I'm happy to report that the funk that I'd been in is getting further and further away in the review mirror. I even had an enourmous drive of nearly 270 yards...that's about 40-50 yards more than usual! That was just a one-time deal, you understand. It was a nice surprise.

Upon returning home, three hours somehow passed without an ounce of studying taking place. I can't, for whatever reason, particularly account for them. I was watching a bit of golf and had some physio slides pulled up, but I guess the distractions of the Internet got the better of me. I dozed off at one point...and woke up about 1 a.m. I stumbled into the bathroom and performed my nightly routine. By the time it was over, I was wide awake.

I crawled into bed, passively wishing that I was joining someone, and didn't feel a bit like sleeping. I've been absolutely devouring a book lately, so I picked that up to read a couple of chapters. The book, Something for the Pain: Compassion & Burnout in the ER by Paul Austin, had me hooked in the first couple of pages. It was nice to read the words of a man who made it through medical school talking about his pre-med experience and to find that there are overwhelming similarities. I found his personality to be a lot like mine, as well, which was all the more engaging. I'm nearly through with the book. I started it Monday and have been reading as much as I can when I can.

Later in the book, he treats the broken leg of a woman with Down Syndrome. As he described her howling in pain, the mental image of the woman became the image of Mr. Blakenfrightened. He wasn't screaming and didn't seem to be in any sort of pain, but the barrier to being particularly helpful seemed similar...obviously it isn't, but let's just go with it.

I started feeling a little guilty for, of all things, not speaking the man's dialect. This is irrational. There is nothing you could've done about that! I began thinking about him, all alone, in a big city hospital with a tumor about the size of a ping pong ball in his head, and it started eating at me. My mind began searching desperately for ways that I could've had a positive impact on his stay, even if it meant walking into his room and just smiling and waving. With each possibility, I asked myself why I didn't think of it then. That poor man doesn't have anyone to console him. No one in which to confide his fears about his future health. I thought about how I'd feel in that situation, and a creeping, chilling panic swept up my spine.

Maybe there are some things I could've done. Maybe not. Maybe my patient presence as we worked out that he wanted to television on was enough. I smiled a lot. He was smiling when I left. Maybe that's all anyone could've done.

I passed out last night while writing this entry. Looking back on it now, it seems a bit melodramatic and I'm almost embarrassed to have written some of it. It was such a weird day, all the way around. I'm happy that it's over, but not happy about the mountain of work before me today. Three exams this week. Three finals next week.

Cabinet full of coffee? Check.

We're cleared for take-off.

May the grace of He keep you always,

J.O. Morris

A thought, just now

2010-04-16T23:18:00.000-04:00

My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,

I think that I should someday like to have a small, yet diverse, library in my home. To own several old books with relatively drab and unassuming covers, but with a wealth of entertainment and that comforting smell of aged paper contained within, would be delightful.

My children, should I ever marry and produce some, will most certainly be read Bill Bryson's A Short History of Nearly Everything. I would hope that it would inspire some of the same awe and wonder that I experienced, and most importantly, the desire to understand more than superficially many of these phenomena.

At the present moment, I think being a father would suit me just fine.

May the grace of He keep you always,

J.O. Morris

An interruption of my regularly scheduled programming

2010-04-16T13:44:00.000-04:00

Hahaha, wouldn't you know it that my usual Friday afternoon study spot is as jumpin' as I've ever seen it. There are six individuals, engaged in three different conversations, and they, like my flatmates, are trying to outyell each other.

Oh, here comes a pack of five more...three giggling girls wearing sorority shirts, and two guys (one with his ballcap tilted severely off to the side). These folks are a long way from the business building. Hmm.

I've forgotten my headphones, you see, or else this wouldn't be too big of a problem. Furthermore, I have a quiz for which I'm just now able to begin revising.

It seems as though I can't get away from excessive noise to save my life. I should give this up and be a monk, taking a vow of silence... mash up grapes and make wine all day... hmmmm.

Aha, just as quickly as they all appeared, they've scattered! Now, back to interlobular arteries and proximal convoluted tubules...

Easily amused

2010-04-15T15:01:00.001-04:00

My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,

I just sat here on my bed with one hand over my heart and the other on my dorsalis pedis artery and marveled for a few minutes. First I felt the thump of my heart followed almost immediately after by the pulsation in my artery.

It's groovy to be alive, as some may be wont to say.

May the grace of He keep you always,

J.O. Morris

Notes

2010-04-13T14:51:00.000-04:00

Aggravations associated with being a chairman of the board-type... grumble grumble.
I thought that people from this particular population would be free from flakiness and irresponsibility... grumble grumble.

Going to the driving range tonight, that's for sure!

Happy posts to come, especially once finals are over. Feeling the stress. Would like to just be done with my current university, done with med school, done with residency, and just seeing patients full-time.

...although, I KNOW that all of my patients (ALL OF THEM) will be the same type who are aggravating me now.

Knowing this, I still want to put myself through all of the craziness to get there.

Perhaps I'm crazier than once thought.

Haha.

All bro-ed out

2010-04-12T20:26:00.000-04:00

My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,

On my journey home from campus today, a rather obnoxious frat boy was chattering away on his phone. From this, I learned that he finds it funny to pick fights with bouncers in clubs (and even funnier to get kicked out for it), he can get 10 girls to go to some social with him if he really wanted to, and that he really wants to fornicate with some poor girl in one of his classes...without his girlfriend's knowledge...because she's only giving it up a few times a week, but he's a MAN, BRO, and needs it, like, every day. At least once.

I whipped out my phone and attempted to record the conversation, but I just picked up a lot of road noise and air conditioner noises. Oh well. Anyway, I was happy knowing that I'd not hear "bro" again for the remainder of the day.

That is, until Party Boy I brought his frat boy friend over. Yessssss. Bro this, bro that, and bro the other. Bro, bro, bro.

At least his collar is resting as it should.

May the grace of He keep you always,

J.O. Morris

The Good Life

2010-04-11T00:11:00.000-04:00

Another satisfying day in the hospital. Sounds a bit strange, doesn't it?

Things started off slowly. Tall & Gorgeous Nurse was working, but said not one word to me all day...didn't even return a smile. Perhaps she was having a rough time of it. Perhaps she knows I'm interested, finds the prospect appalling, and has shut down to shut me out. It most certainly would not be the first time. heh.

There was, however, another batch of lovely young women with whom I had the pleasure of working and I took a liking to one in particular. She's rather tall, as well. I've never met so many tall women in one place in my life. It's almost as if I've hit the jackpot.

Over the stretch of about 45 minutes, just about every patient decided they'd ring me up...and say nothing. Some of them would yank the cord from the wall, as well, which set off an extraordinarily annoying and persistent bell. This sent me into a right state of panic, especially when none of the nurses were anywhere to be seen. Luck was on my side, however, because each and every time was an accident. Whew. I was, however, on edge for the rest of the day. As I headed back to the work I was doing during the last alarming episode, I got a slight hint of what Maha was thinking when she titled her blog Call Bells Make Me Nervous, and it actually made me smile. A lot. Grinning, even.

I visited each patient a bit later in the afternoon and my first stop was with a lovely elderly couple. We had a lengthy conversation which was enjoyable to the last word. I found it quite difficult to leave, especially as I made observations about the patient's physical appearance and their meaningful participation in our conversation. Something was amiss; there was sort of a "lost at sea" look on the face at times and during those spells, there was a bit of inappropriate excitement in speech. It was actually quite endearing, as if the patient just happened to be a person bursting with passion and lust for life.

Almost everyone else I called upon did not seem too terribly concerned with whether I stayed or went. Some were watching The Masters which provided some light and pleasant conversation, except when it came to Mr. Woods. The husband of one patient, after I expressed my disappointment in the scandal, seemed to become a bit agitated and kept mentioning that he's a brilliant golfer. You can bet that conversation went far from golf just as soon as I could steer it away... and I removed myself almost as quickly. Yikes.

Yet another senile old lady told me I'm cute. Twice. Then she told me her life story. She had no visitors all day long and I felt quite bad about that, so I listened patiently and stayed actively engaged in the conversation. Everything she said was pretty ordinary, until she began to touch on some rather unique life experiences. There was nothing too terribly scandalous, but things got a bit more fantastic as she went on. I couldn't decide if she was just doing her best to talk and talk so that she could keep me there, or if she was having a spell. Still don't know for sure, but being called cute two weeks in a row has done a little for my confidence, even though the women paying the compliment are 50 years my senior. Why don't any women my age tell me these things?!

I got to do some chart assembly, which was a breeze due to a job I had years ago. It brought back some sweet, and some sour, memories of that job...spent a lot of time analysing some of the good and a lot of the bad I had with Old Flame. Wouldn't you know that she rang me up when I was on my way home? We'd not spoken in a while...maybe a week or two, which is really odd for us.

It was off to the driving range with me before I went home, and I'm sad to report that I still am not playing my best. The reasons why escape me. I had a much easier time of relaxing and clearing my mind and I felt good when it was all over, despite some terrible, terrible shots. Something felt funny after one of my last drives. There was good contact, great sound, but I felt my club shake halfway through my follow-through...and then it felt as though I was not holding much of a club at all. I looked and MY CLUBHEAD WAS GONE! Immediate sadness filled up within. That was my favourite club...first I ever owned, first I ever used. Me and that driver are soul mates. I couldn't find the clubhead anywhere. The girl in the shop said it happens all the time and had me describe it so, when it's found, they can hang onto it for me.

I hope it isn't too expensive to have it reattached!

Ah, watching "Good Neighbours" and I find Felicity Kendal highly attractive. mmmhmmmm.

A remote control to change your situation

2010-04-06T20:24:00.000-04:00

Wouldn't it be lovely if there existed a remote control capable of muting others (including the noises they cause)? Yes, I suspect it would be quite lovely.

I don't reckon that I'd use it on too many folks, but you can rest assured that my flatmates would be on permanent mute. How can people stand so much noise?

Currently, Party Boy I and The Pompous One are in the living room with some war-time video game on full blast. Explosions, incessant gun fire, yelling...I've been living in a warzone since August. Can't say as though I'm all that happy about it.

A lot of my problems could be solved with such a simple device. Perhaps a few swift punches to the noses of these animals might do the trick...

Now, now, Josiah.

P.S. In search of some sort of high point today, I went to the driving range. Didn't find what I was looking for at all. Every last shot was worthless...most aggravating time of it I've ever had.

The first day

2010-04-03T23:01:00.000-04:00

My dearest Nora, wherever thoust may roam,

Today marked my first day working in Big City Hospital and surprisingly, I didn't start freaking out until I got in the elevator to go to my floor. Even then, I wasn't too nervous, but I sure got that way when I rounded the corner at the nurses' station and saw her sitting there.

Who did I see but the tall and lovely nurse I saw during my orientation! My knees were knocking, teeth chattering, and my hands went cold and clammy. Oh, so rare are women like her that I feel a selfish cretin for even thinking that she might one day be mine...and, equally, I hers.

Not once, twice, nor thrice, but four times did I examine her delicate hand for any sign of a ring.

Nothing.

Good news, but perhaps she's involved. I reckon time shall provide that answer.

There weren't any particularly good openings with which I was able to speak to her, save for a brief encounter in a supply closet. My query to her was a bit of a silly one, but I wanted to make sure that I'd grabbed the correct item...after she confirmed it, I made a slightly humourous comment which elicited a bit of laughter.

I made her, and several other nurses, giggle when I had to call them to let them know of a patient's need. Yes, I spent some of the time covering the phones. Not an ideal place to be...in fact, quite intimidating, even with my history of phone operation in previous employment. I didn't say anything particularly amusing, so I couldn't pinpoint what was causing such a reaction. A thought came later when one of the doctors, a very friendly lady in her mid-40s, commented on my "soothing" and (some other attractive and blush-inducing adjective) voice. Hmm! The laughter was probably just a, "Hehe, listen to the new guy," kind of thing but I found myself getting used to the idea that they might find my voice (and perhaps more!) attractive.

...hey, an senile elderly lady thought I was hot stuff, so you never know!

Ahem, but there's no telling what the old lady thought she was seeing. That was probably the 2nd place highlight of the day (the 1st being walking through the front doors, hopping in the elevator, rounding that corner and seeing Ms. Legs). Boy, though, that old lady sure took a liking to me. I played into it a bit and went to visit her once or twice throughout the day. It made her smile, which made me smile, and I felt like I was doing something worthwhile.

I left with that feeling after clocking out, as well. Finally, fulfillment and satisfaction after a day's work.

What could make the day better, besides Ms. Legs whispering lustfully into my ear about all sorts of unmentionable acts, than going to the driving range? Today marked the third day in a row, and the fourth time this week, that I went. I began to get very excited when, on Tuesday, I hit yet another distance record...and it all came so effortlessly. It was just dropped right into my lap, to be honest, and my God have I never felt something so natural. A beautiful arc, each and every time, whether I slice it or not...haha. It's going places.

So now, with Golf Channel in the background showing highlight reels from previous Masters tournaments (Ernie Els should take it this year!), Hank Williams' "Lovesick Blues" on repeat, and some coffee ice cream just slightly beginning to melt (perfect!), I've got my feet propped up and the family dogs curled up beside. It's good to be home again.

May the grace of He keep you always,

J.O. Morris

Letters on the run

2010-04-01T08:39:00.000-04:00

My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,

The time allotted to pen this letter is brief. I've been incarcerated.

...only kidding. To tell the truth (or "troof," if you prefer), the demands placed on me by my courses at university have not so much as spared more than an hour or two daily of free time. Ordinarily, I'd be accepting and joyful about the break, but that time is not available to spend on myself, being the head of a committee that is trying to get something accomplished.

This committee I speak of is made up of my peers and I quite like all of them. Most of them are hard-working and excited about what we're doing. One has obviously become completely uninterested and tries to drag everyone down by making comments like, "Wouldn't it be easier if we dropped X and did Y instead?"

Another problem, again mostly by Mr. Disinterested, is agreeing to be places and do things at certain times...and then not showing up. Especially aggravating when that person was in charge of procuring important items. Not answering phone calls until half an hour before the event is over is a nice touch.

Some (most) of the folks, two or three in particular, sort of frighten me with their inability to read and follow directions. You say you want to be a physician but you can't follow through with signing your name here or some other similar, minor task? The worst offender rang me up in a real state of frantic concern the other morning. "Josiah, good morning. X is super cool, but it starts SO EARLY! We'll be wasting our time for at least 2 hours, so I think we should start it later."

I expressed my appreciation for her concern, but informed her that the start time is actually, funnily enough, 2 hours later than when she thought (for whatever reason) it was.

"Ooooooooooh, really? Okay, well, yeah. Much better."

Thanks.

Learn to r e a d !

Overall, though, it's a great time and is very successful so far. Apologies for being skimpy on the details, but we've been sworn to secrecy by the government.

Okay, okay, it's just that the likelihood of some of them crossing paths with this letter is strong enough to make me cautious.

Goodbye for now, my dear, and I hope that all is well. Until we meet again, au revoir, etc.

May the grace of He keep you always,

J.O. Morris

tee hee hee

2010-03-24T22:44:00.000-04:00

I don't dare ask him how he felt about the shenanigans during the Bush years...

...because he was in elementary and middle school for most of it.

Just put the air conditioner on

2010-03-23T19:44:00.000-04:00

Well, some of the good cheer of the entry from just moments ago is now gone.

I went to the kitchen to make coffee and found the front door wide open. I wondered why someone was standing there holding open the door... and as I exited the hallway, found that it's been propped open by someone's shoe. A bunch of them are huddled around the table playing Risk or something.

That was a bit irritating, because when the bugs come in, they'll go straight to my room. They'll wait and hang out undetected for a few days or weeks, but come out of hiding the night before I need to get up ridiculously early for something terribly engaging and important.

,..kind of like what happened (several times) last term!

The most memorable night was just before an organic chemistry exam. It was about 11 p.m. and I'd successfully made my roommates shut up so I could sleep. I was just about drift off when I started hearing a sound like rain hitting my blinds. "Oh, how lovely," I thought, and smiled as I listened to the soothing rain.

"Hey, I don't have my window open..."

"...so what is making that noise?"

I lift my head and see the shadow of a roach crawling around on the backside of the blinds. The window is RIGHT NEXT to my bed.

I went into battle mode.

The only item I had readily available to deliver a much-deserved punishment to the intruder was a dressy type of shoe...I'd rather have used something a bit more disposable, but I didn't want to go hunting and take my eyes off of that vile creature.

I waited until it emerged from behind the blinds to launch my assault. My anger at this point was about an 11 on a scale only meant to go to 10 and I let loose with a savage strike.

...and missed.

The devilish thing jumped off of the wall and ran under my bed. So, I took off the two-piece mattress thing and kicked around all of the things I stash underneath...nothing. My closet is right next to this, and if it went in there, I was never going to find it. My anger reached 12 out of 10 and now an hour had passed since I'd first been engaged in this affair.

Eventually, I found it under a little box and thought that it was dead. I gave it a good bash, just in case.

...and it took off running up the wall.

20 out of 10.

I beat the hell out of it. Absolute demolition. Came close to spitting on its carcass and strutting around like some sort of macho man, but instead I began the long clean-up process.

After piecing my room back together, over two hours had gone by. Three (plus) hours had gone by when I finally fell asleep. Four hours later, my alarm went off.

I got a 60-something on the exam.

Looking forward to more,

J.O. Morris

Helllllloooo!

2010-03-23T19:06:00.000-04:00

I did an in-depth tour of the hospital floor I've been stationed on today...and there was a nurse there who knocked my socks off.

She was easily 5'11", probably more. It's rare that I come across such lovely specimen, especially one who is so physically attractive. Oh. My.

I was grinning like an idiot already, but was really beaming upon laying eyes on her. There was no chance to speak, and I'm not even sure if she saw me. I sure hope that we have a chance to become very well acquainted. Short women are nice, but I like 'em better when they're closer to my size.

Be still, my heart...etc. WOW.

From the fingertips of Pompous (Former) Pre-med

2010-03-22T00:48:00.001-04:00

My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,

Brace yourself for what you're about to read. This comes from a young man who calls himself a Christian and who, for quite some time, was passionate about becoming a physician. I think that, after reading this, you'll agree that his abandonment of that goal (to pursue some sort of business degree, no less) was a good decision.

These words came via a social networking site when a mutual friend expressed his desire for the passing of the health care bill. Our mutual friend is not a terribly intelligent guy by any stretch of the imagination, but he's got a heart of gold and a mind completely absent of hate. Easily one of the nicest, friendliest people I've ever met. He radiates a sort of pureness and goodness, and you just can't help but like him.

At any rate, here is what my flatmate had to say in response. I highlighted...well, the highlights (poor spelling, paranoia, unnecessarily mean and belittling statements...).

"This is about more than just taxes, this is about the government taking a piss on the constitution. This is about them stripping us of our rights every day. This is about you wanting things and not wanting to pay for it. And even if this was a good idea and would make healthcare better (which it wont) we cant afford it and it will drive our country into bankruptsy. I am not surprised you want it though, you blame all your problems on someone else and expect others to take care of you and pay for everything. The responsibility to take care of yourself is on the individual, when the government has countrol they have all the power and can litterally decide who lives and who dies. This bill will change the fundementals of our country and alow them to take more of our God given rights away.

But it gets worse, in the bill they are changing education. If this is passed you will no longer be able to take a student loan from a bank but willl have to go through the government. They will then be able to decide who gets an education and who doesnt. You should be alright though bc you are in the bottom of the intelectual poole and they will certainly take care of the dumber, less fortunate portion of the country and make thoughs who worked hard find their own way. But they wont be able to bc they took away private funding.

This bill is the first movement to a socialist country, a style of government that millions have fought and died to get away from. But that doesnt matter to you, you just want a free lunch no matter what the real cost of our liberties is.

Oh, and maybe you should do a little research and see that Obamas sad stories about ppl dying with no healthcare are a bunch of lies. Most of them were taken care of and died of natural caused, something that is sad but will always happen"

I love the one about God-given rights being taken away. Is not health a God-given right? Obviously not to him. His terrible comments to our friend about him being at the bottom of the intellectual gene pool (and HE'S one to be talking with 3rd grade grammar and spelling like that!) and such left me incensed and I really wanted to tear into him. I thought better of it, however. Our friend didn't respond negatively, either. I knew he wouldn't.

Heh, had I been in the apartment when the bill passed I bet I could've witnessed a heart attack or two. My present company, gracious enough to put me up for the evening after a great day of golf, are uninterested in American politics and we've spent our time watching Jim Furyk win at Innisbrook, sipping fantastic tea, and having grand conversations. It's a nice little life they've carved out for themselves.

In unrelated news, I met with my advisor last week to discuss the term, what the future terms will hold, and how I'm feeling in general about the road to medical school. She paid me some high compliments, best of which was that I'm a strong, lively, and memorable presence...that I have a way with words, good sense of humour, make great eye contact, and generally exude an air of relaxed confidence. ...wow. I felt myself turn bright red when the compliments started raining down. If I didn't know better, I'd have thought she was hitting on me. Those are not things that I hear very often about myself, and I don't even know if I believe most of them to be true. However, she seemed convinced that as long as I can construct a good story, I'll have no problem with medical school admissions committees. I reckon I'll know for sure in two years' time.

May the grace of He keep you always,

J.O. Morris

Say, do you guys know "Take the A Train?"

2010-03-21T07:44:00.000-04:00

My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,

As I chased off the sleepiness from my eyes this morning, I began to take note of the beautiful conglomeration of sounds from just through the sliding glass door. For a few moments, I just sat there and listened.

Four distinctive patterns constantly making their presence known. A fifth chimes in every 30-45 seconds, it seems.

It's all so lovely and peaceful. I went out on the porch for a few minutes to see if I could catch any sort of glimpse of the beautiful creatures producing such sweet notes. No dice, but it was apparent that they were all around. Birds in stereo.

Rarely do I have a chance to take in this natural symphony at my apartment. I reckon the birds, save for some vultures (yes, indeed), don't much like to be there either.

Each and every time I wake and hear birds singing for me, I'm reminded of a particular morning in my youth. My family was on vacation to an area not so far from here, actually, at my grandmother's house. I was afforded the luxury of sleeping in the room my father occupied during his youth. He told me stories of waking up to find all sorts of wildlife perched upon the roof of the screen porch, just below his window, and I was out like a light in anticipation of what animals I might see in the morning.

I didn't see any, but I heard them.

I first remember the ceiling fan. We'd not lived in a house with a ceiling fan at this point and it was one of the things I enjoyed most about visiting my grandparents in the south. I'd stretch out on the floor below them and try to follow a particular blade for as long as I could. I've always been easily amused.

Next, I took note of the bedsheets. They were a light tan, almost white-ish, with a pattern of triangles separated by about half an inch of blank space. Reminded me of something you might see on a tie.

Then, I heard it all.

First, a woodpecker...but I had no idea what it was. I thought someone was out there hammering away on something.

Next, I heard some high-pitched chirping which sounded so sweet and charming, and it was then that I can first recall thinking that the life of a bird might be one I'd like to have a go at.

To round things out, I heard kind of a squawking, honking sound...it was kept to a minimum. For whatever reason, I decided that it was pelican producing that rather odd sound. heh.

Even though my parents were busy getting ready to go out in the next room over, and I should've been doing the same, I couldn't help but lay there (hands folded behind my head), staring out at the slice of bright, blue, and cloudless sky through the window and taking in every last chirp.

Then, just as now, I wished that I could experience the same back home.

May the grace of He keep you always,

J.O. Morris

Desperation...delirium...a dash of apathy (Oh no!)

2010-03-19T08:40:00.000-04:00

My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,

Truthfully, I proclaim for all to hear that my feeling this morning is that I might as well have not gone to bed at all last night. The quality of sleep was not an issue, but it's more a problem of duration. My waking early was to allow for completion of the remaining tasks at hand (mostly memorisation of physiological facts), but only a little over half of this has taken place.

My mind is in a bit of a fog...feeling disconnected. One cup of coffee down, another in preparation. Concern over my performance on this afternoon's exam is surprisingly minimal, despite the amount of material I don't know. How do I get myself into these messes?

I'll tell you how. The entire week of spring break was spent pursuing those activities for which I don't ordinarily have time to even think about. A piece of recent history returns to me...I clearly recall thinking on Wednesday or Thursday of last week, "Hmm, there should be another exam in the next week or two. Perhaps I should check the syllabus. ...nah, who'd be so sadistic as to give an exam the week immediately following spring break?"

I know who!

Ah, the more I feel the urgency of the situation and the need to return to a 4-inch stack of notecards, the more I have to write about. Only the signal that my next cup of coffee is ready and waiting is enough to tear me away from this exercise in procrastination. Coincidentally, if procrastination affected the body in a similar manner as regular exercise, my HDL levels would be through the roof.

May the grace of he keep you always,

J.O. Morris

My good fortune

2010-03-18T23:08:00.000-04:00

Funny how social hour in my living room always seems to take place the evening before an exam for which I'm frantically trying to cram.

The zen of golf

2010-03-17T17:10:00.000-04:00

At this point in my life, I can name few things that are equally as satisfying as a good golf swing.

I went out to the driving range today after class, some long hours in the library, and some ridiculous attempts at provocation by Pompous (Former) Pre-Med, and just went to town. I'm pretty solid with my driver after a brief warm-up, and that's usually what I start with. Hit some pretty good ones and reached a new distance milestone of about 215 yards. For someone who has only very casually done this (not even 20 times) over the last year and some change, I'd say that was some good improvement.

Next, I worked a bit with my 9, 8, and 7 irons. Complete rubbish, the lot of them. I somehow hit them worse than ever! When the first rays of anger started shining down on mild frustration, I backed up and repeated my golf mantra, "You have to be good to get mad!" Always makes me laugh.

My PW, Old Faithful, and I had some quality time together despite a bit of turbulence not long after take-off. Reasonable control of placement, and quite good control over distance. Wahoo.

Back to those irritating long irons. Can't fathom why I should have such difficulty. Tried a couple of different things in my swing but only had mild success. With about 5 balls remaining, I wanted to rip a few and boost my self-esteem.

I did just that.

It seems as though the Good Lord saw fit to place but one driver on this planet that allows me to get any sort of control or distance. Thanks, TaylorMade, for producing this one rare gem.

The moment I pick that club up, whether I ultimately hit a bad shot or not, it feels good. Nice responsive shaft, and just enough weight in the club head to remind me in my downswing that I should be letting the club do the work. Oh, it's brilliant. A perfect match, we are.

When I tee up, grab my club, and set up for the drive, I try to erase everything I know from memory. I visualise it like the sudden clearing of dark storm clouds to reveal a pristine, blue, endless foreverness in the sky. It goes on and never stops. I interrupt, only briefly, to remind myself to keep a loose grip and let my body follow through.

As my backswing commences, a twinge of anxiety steps into the picture...mostly over whether or not I'm actually going to get good ball contact, or just hit the top of it. On the downswing, I keep my hands loose, remember to let the club do the work, and I let my mind clear again.

For a moment, I experience a sense of nothingness.

If I've done well, I'm snapped back into reality by that unmistakable and oh-so satisfying cling! that results when club meets ball. I felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. As far as I know, that ball took flight on its own free will. The follow-through is completely automatic. Don't have to think a thing about it. I'm watching this perfect parabola extending out before me and nothing else in the world is on my mind.

Once the ball lands, I relax back into my normal stance and realise what's just taken place. It's like a taste of Nirvana, as the Buddhists may realise it. Nothingness. A void. A beautiful void. Peace.

The zen of golf, I reckon.

Never would I have ever imagined I'd find something so spiritual in a sport. What a gift, and right on time. Makes me sit back and put things into perspective. Anytime that I've truly needed something, it has somehow been provided...effortlessly. Just, there it is. No sitting around pondering the best route by which to travel to achieve the desired end result. Just go, and things fall into place.

...finding it easier to apply this ideology to the whole process of gaining acceptance into medical school. If I just let go and go, I'll go.

heh.

Calf talk

2010-03-16T19:19:00.000-04:00

My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,

Never in my life have I spent much time thinking about cows...or even very many other animals, for that matter. This morning is different.

I've a friend who runs a farm, and she and her husband have been anxiously awaiting the birth of some calves. They arrived yesterday and it was a pretty joyous occasion for them, especially considering the fact that they're unable to have children of their own. They all came along beautifully and seemed very healthy...

...except for one.

She wouldn't stand up like the others. She just stayed there, sprawled out on the ground. They took an extraordinary number of photos of the whole ordeal, some of which I received via email. "Eh, a bunch of calves and whatnot," I thought, as I scrolled through about 20 pictures. Then the story of The One Who Wouldn't Stand was laid out before me, complete with pictures.

My heart melted.

It was the most beautiful calf I've ever seen. Had her story not been relayed to me and if there hadn't been any photos of her lying there on a stack ofcomfortable-looking blankets, I don't think I'd have thought an awful lot about it.

That story...the sweet, innocent, and almost scared look on the poor girl's face...it was all too much. She looked so helpless and pitiful, but simultaneously wide-eyed and inquisitive. It was such a tough thing to see. When I read further and found out that she didn't make it, everything within me sank and the urge to weep was strong. So incredibly sad. She only lived about 9 hours and I hope that they were pleasant and peaceful hours without an ounce of suffering. Poor, poor thing.

Abundant apologies for the grey tone of this letter, my dear.

May the grace of He keep you always,

J.O. Morris

Ehhhh

2010-03-14T17:54:00.001-04:00

Snälla...gift han inte.

Gifta mig istället.

Jag är jätte, jätte kär i dig.

...

Fan.

Incompetence

2010-03-11T16:04:00.000-05:00

To whom it may concern:

Twice this week there have been mix-ups regarding appointment times by secretaries in the medical environment. I have a follow-up appointment tomorrow to go over some blood work (routine), but the secretary swore up and down that I'd scheduled it for two weeks from yesterday. No, ma'am, I'll be either in class or in the library at that time two weeks from yesterday...a good 100 miles from your office. Finally got it sorted it out, but she still made me feel like it was my mistake. Uncharacteristic for secretaries at my physician's office. Bad day, maybe.

The other mix-up, as of yet unresolved, is over a meeting time at the big city hospital. There were three options available, and due to various appointments on the other days, I had to select the last option. I received a reminder call about the meeting this morning, which seemed a bit premature...but then the automated system told me that I'm scheduled for tomorrow at 10 a.m. Hmm, no. No, I'm not. My appointment isn't for two weeks. I called and spoke to the secretary, who also seemed to think that I should be in attendance at the meeting tomorrow. I explained that I have an appointment with my doctor tomorrow, which is why I'd scheduled it for a few weeks down the line. She said that she'd have to consult (someone, couldn't understand who) and get back to me. It's been four hours. I suppose that, with close of business fast approaching, I should ring them up again.

Come on, people.

In the normal run of things, I'd probably just shake my head and not think much else about this, but I got rained out of my tee time at one of my favourite golf courses this morning and it's left me feeling a bit grumpy. That's twice that weather conditions have prevented my playing there this spring break. Doesn't look like I'll be playing there at all until just before the summer term begins. I might get in one more round before classes resume...not holding my breath.

All the best,

J.O. Morris

I'll have the chicken...and your love

2010-03-10T03:55:00.002-05:00

Dear waitress,

Thank you for playing along with, although not encouraging, my inebriated friend this evening. You were a good sport despite some indications of fear and confusion over his boisterous rambling at certain moments. It's been a long time since I've come across a waitress, or anybody, who so profusely exudes kindness. I got the impression that you're a very gentle soul, and that's precisely the kind I want by my side.

You were also incredibly cute. Had I been a man of greater confidence, surely I'd have expressed my interest in you. Instead, the best I could muster was to try to make a lot of eye contact and smile...you were so busy and our eyes only met a handful of times. I took it to mean that you weren't interested, based on my long and turbulent history with other representatives of your sex.

Something within me almost made me pause and speak to you a bit more as I was leaving...I let you pass before me as you were carrying two armloads of dirty dishes; me, the very last in a long chain of my friends and other customers who were a bit too self-absorbed and plowed right on by, obstructing your pathway. The surprise in your eyes when I stopped and told you go ahead, and then the wonderful, bright, full smile, the adorable head-bobbing from side-to-side thing that you did, and that rather energetic and appreciative, "Thank you!" that you produced as you made your way by me further pushed me to make my approach.

But you're a waitress, and I'm sure that innumerable fellows have a go at chatting you up. To be another creeper on a long list of them is not the ideal position for me.

Perhaps I have the wrong attitude.

Yeah, that's it. Should I then return in a couple of days and hope that you're there? It seems that with each passing minute, the right time for this slips further and further away. But then again, what do I know? It might be the case that my return in the near future just to speak to you would be seen as a romantic and dreamy sort of affair.

Maybe it'd be cause for alarm and a desire to obtain a restraining order. Kidding...mostly. heh.

At any rate, you're quite enchanting and if I can't be the one to tell you these things, then I hope that you have someone who does.

May each of your days be filled with abundant joy and love,

J.O. Morris

Aha

2010-03-08T09:12:00.000-05:00

Dear Scottish lady on the BBC World Service,

I've been unsuccessful in tracking down audio clips of you, and this is mild-to-moderately depressing. However, I have discovered two different presenters from BBC Scotland that are somewhat comparable. They've not got your always-on, incredibly sexy and seductive air, but they have got just enough to get me all kinds of wrapped up 'round their little finger.

And I do not mind.

This first clip has the added bonus of seeing what the presenter actually looks like, and it's incredibly pleasant. She's a bit too animated in a forced, peppy kind of way. A bit off-putting, but what an accent!

The other clip is far closer to my beloved presenter, although this one's voice is just a bit deeper...still incredibly lovely. It's almost too much. I think that if I were to travel to Scotland, it'd be the last trip I'd ever make. My brain would go bonkers from sensory overload, and I'd either be committed or shut down completely and pass on... all with a smile. A huge smile.

Ooh, I've just been reminded of the Shipping Report! I'll check that out and see what comes of it. So soothing.

Until our paths cross,

J.O. Morris

Talk to me

2010-03-08T01:33:00.001-05:00

Dear Scottish lady on the BBC World Service,

Each time that I'm so lucky as to hear your adorable voice, I can feel the blood vessels throughout my body throbbing ferociously and I get a bit light-headed. You do all sorts of wonderful things to me, and I do wish that our paths might somehow cross. It would be ideal that you got swept up by my charm (you'll have to be easily swept up, for an Archibald Leach I am not), we married, and had loads of children who end up speaking with your accent.

So, how about it? Let's find each other, and for the first few months of our courtship I'd be content to cook dinner and just sit and listen to you speak...about anything. Read from one of those old Time Life DIY home repair books (even the plumbing one), or anything else ever published, and no matter what, you'd have a captive audience.

(Couldn't find a clip of the woman of my fancy, but the lovely-sounding lady presenting the weather at the beginning of this clip is pretty close. Oh, my. EDIT: It seems as though the BBC has pulled a fast one and switched up the clips on me... I'll seek out another clip from another source. )

Anxiously awaiting you,

J.O. Morris

JSBX...

2010-03-04T08:46:00.002-05:00

...gets me through the day. Entering my third hour of consciousness today.

The fog has lifted

2010-03-03T20:23:00.000-05:00

My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,

I reckon I've got the rest of my university career planned out as of this morning. It's kind of a strange feeling... for all of my collegiate experience until this point, I went into registration periods with an idea of what I wanted (needed) to take and would end up adjusting based on availability. Those days are over (save for Organic Chem lab...never, ever enough seats to accommodate those who wish to take it). Further making my head spin (rather pleasantly) is that the end is in sight. It's still a ways off, but I've a very clear path to the finish line.

Boy, this time next year, I'll have a date set to sit for the MCAT. The very thought is cause for excitement. I always grin like an idiot before, during, and after huge milestones. I'm even grinning a year early on this one. Imagine...me applying to medical school!

Ha, just now I've realised that an assignment deadline is fast approaching. Forgot all about it. Coffee, here I come!

May the grace of He keep you always,

J.O. Morris

Nothing much to see here

2010-03-02T18:08:00.000-05:00

My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,

Recently, I met with some representatives (administrator types and medical students) from a nearby medical university and was quite impressed all the way around. That particular school had never really been on my radar before, but it now sits amongst my top choices. Quite funny how such things occur.

Spring break is drawing near and it's going to be full of golf. Playing a round on Saturday, driving range on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday at the least, and perhaps another game on Friday. Very soon, the weather will make it unbearable to be outside for more than ten seconds and my poor clubs will be locked up until November. I weep at the thought.

The chances of my having made a significantly passing score on my statistics midterm are low. I was presented with several problems for which the correct formulas completely escaped me. My grade is in the mid-90s as it stands, so I'm hoping I won't take too big of a hit...maybe can drag it (just barely) back up to an A with the remainder of the coursework. Hope so.

Two exams await me on Friday...and then freedom. Hopping right in my Model T (ha) straight after class and going home!

May the grace of He keep you always,

J.O. Morris

Heja Sverige!!

2010-02-26T23:58:00.001-05:00

Grattis till Sveriges curlingdamer!! Guuuuuuld!

P.S. Anna Le Moine, gifta mig.

Jävla vackert. sigh sigh sigh...

Perfect Day

2010-02-25T13:58:00.000-05:00

To whom it may concern:

Lou Reed's "Perfect Day" is being used in some commercial with a snowboarder in a halfpipe who ends up in space. I've got the Olympics on whilst I whittle away at some homework. Curling's on and I'm enjoying very casually watching Candian and Swiss women have at it. There's one woman on the Swiss team with the most striking eyes...she's kind of tan, dark hair, but really light grey-ish eyes. Amazing.

Anyway, the point I wanted to make with this post is that when I heard "Perfect Day," the thing which popped into mind straight away was Trainspotting. That song is forever tied to the overdose moment and still, after all these years, gives me that uncomfortable bit of churn in my stomach...anguish, like, "Why'd that have to go and happen?" Great filmmaking causes that. Yes, indeed.

Moments like those make me want to dig out my old camera and jump back in.

All the best,

J.O. Morris

EPIC paranoia and propaganda

2010-02-24T18:38:00.001-05:00

hahahahahahahaha

Gotta balance this out...

Ahhhhhhhh, yeah.