Too long, too far...

There are few ways to make a comeback after such a long absence. I have tried before, and there's just too much going on for me to wish or promise a steady blogging schedule...
I was asked to help edit a few blog posts, by someone, for someone else. These, I actually just finished, and naturally, the memories came flowing, and I found myself sneaking some time off and going through my blog and some of my other favorites. Wow it has been a while!
It's funny to me how perspective changes over the years. I think fellow bloggers can relate; when you re-read those posts you wrote years ago, doesn't it sometimes feel like someone else was doing the writing?
It's a good feeling, Don't get me wrong. It shows you've matured, grown, or changed in some way, all good things.
There's little to think or write about these days. Unless you wanna get caught up in the hot topics of where this country is headed... Oh don't get me started. I'll save that for another post.

Well, here it is, hope for a steady flow of ideas, and, as importantly, time.
I miss writing. I miss Posh's posts and comments, I miss my colleague...

Here's to a better comeback!

Spanish Heart

... And since we're in the reminiscing mood...

This song is literally the first song I ever remember. Ever. Early 80s as I was some 8 or 9 years old, toward the end of the civil war. I remember the old boombox that played this tape. 

Here's to a great childhood in spite of all. 

And Light There Was...

How about a trip to the past? Let's go back to the beginning... Doubtful that anyone but my dear La Colleague will remember this: And Let There Be Light

It's been 5 years. 5 completed years of ups, downs, and all kinds of craziness...
4 years of med school, 1 hell of an intern year, at first and in prospect seemed like ages, but now, in retrospect, nothing more than a few years in memory.

Faithful readers will know the meaning of the word "Checkpoints" in my posts. Well this is a checkpoint if there ever was one. The end of the intern year. The end of one hell of a year that's been the one and only time I have ever questioned my choice of career. Gone. And not a minute too soon. But with the pleasure and euphoria found in a savagely hard fought victory over it, came the sadness of another turning point in life. A turning point where all - yes, all - of my class friends (so much more than just classmates) have packed up and left for residencies in the states, leaving me with another round of fighting with my sense that I might want to do the same. And this is where my mind wanders off into a land of what ifs, buts, and alsos, driving me further into this wicked cycle of thought that I will not bore you with.
What it boils down to, though, is the impossible difficulty of accessing a surgical residency program in the US. Sure enough, none of my friends who are leaving have chosen surgery, and happily all of them were lucky to get the match for an out of this world opportunity for life and career. Kudos to them all.

For Gracie, for Mayssam
So here we are, gone each in his/her direction. In the 'hecticity' of it all, there seemed to be so little time for us to get to do any real talking, the only thing you and I are any good at. So I had little or no opportunity to say what a great 5 years these have been. And I know that I will, sometime, or as we say so untruthfully here in Lebanon... Tomorrow, or where 99.9% of human productivity, motivation, and achievement is stored.


Love, always.

Be Careful What You Wish For

What is it with us members of modern society and that elusive sense of satisfaction? Well at least the kind that lasts for more than a few hours or days...

Have you found yourself thinking about just how big of a nagger you are? Well I have, and it's not looking too good. 

At work: "Oh god the never ending work!" - "Oh god I cant take this anymore!" - "Oh god I need a vacation!"

On my heaven-sent 3-week vacation: Day 1: "wow this is perfect. I wish I could make this last a lifetime!" Day 2:"Starting to get bored" Day 3: "I need to get back to work!"... You get the picture. 

Back at work: "Oh god the never ending work, I need a vacation!"

This holds true in just about every situation we are faced with in life. And everyone who thinks about this is bound to reach the conclusion that we humans are never satisfied. But why? I mean is this just an alternate meaning to the phrase "to each his own"? and a definition added to what it is exactly you are allowed to nag or be upset about? because that seems to be an ever changing 'standard' whether it's from person to person or from day to day for the same person. 

It seems to me that the answer to this is change; too much of a good thing is just as nasty as too much of a bad thing. There's no pleasure without pain, and in very much the same way, there seems to be no stability without change and instability. Another source of added stress and insanity to daily life in an apparent bid toward the greater good that is the pleasure of savoring the few short moments of relief or pleasure that we find every once in a while. Owell...

Of Seaside Afternoons - Again

Kaslik, Lebanon - April 2012

Off the coast of north lebanon.
Gathered with a few friends for seaside sangrias. This is how the day ended.
Calm and quiet like you rarely ever experience anymore these days, a nice 25 degree breeze, the sounds of a few small waves breaking every now and then... Then you close your eyes and let the thoughts wash over you.

Breathtaking afternoon

In Candlelight

Beirut, March 2012

In candlelight the glass doth glow

One look at it and you will know

That when a day just took its toll

The wine is here to launder all

In candlelight the glass runs low

These sips of wine will just not throw

All of your troubles, here to stay

So please my friend just drive home safe

Nothing like sleep, ever will fare

In wiping off that nightly glare

Making a come back so bear with me...

November 5, the date of my last post... I think that's the longest I've gone without posting anything And if you know anything about me, it's my crazy schedule and constant struggle with time.

I mean here I am some 3 or 4 months later, still dry for ideas. But how come? I mean neither life or career has been remotely quiet enough to explain this. Quite the opposite, really. Since then, I've gone through 3 and a half rotations, I've fallen in love, I've been in 2 car accidents, I've watched my grandfather getting closer and closer to having Alzheimer's and have a car accident of his own - He's no longer allowed to drive as a result - and yet, I still had no time or inspiration to put any of it to words that proved worth sharing.
I hope you can relate to this; there's something about time that just drives me crazy, and it's that ability it has to sort of spur itself along this crazy vicious cycle. It's like the less time you have, the faster it goes, and the more time you spend doing something, the faster it goes too! I dont know what happened but I suddenly found myself having less and less time for anything other than daily routine, even during whatever time off I had. I guess it's because in my line of work there's only one use for time off, and that's recharging your batteries and shaping up for the next day's work... The next thing you know you're left wondering what the hell has been happening to your grandparents, or how on earth you've managed to forget about so many of your friends, or you just get an email from one of your readers asking you where the hell you've been! And then it sinks in - again, repeatedly - that your choice of career was some sort of an unwritten agreement, a contract that you signed without reading the fine print, and that it's what you have to live with for the rest of your life.
But here we are, the year almost over and I've realized how little I've posted about what I've been through this year - and that's a lot - but hopefully I will be able to catch up on here. It's good to be back, albeit tentatively, but I'm looking forward to sharing thoughts, events, and questions again.

She came...

She came to him. After a long absence, she came and with one look, they both knew at once. They knew immediately what was on each other's and respective minds.
He looked at her with hungry eyes. She smiled and came closer. A long, warm embrace, and he could feel her body once more. The feel of the thin fabric of her dress under his hands, gliding so softly over her skin, filled him with desire. The touch of his hands sent a shiver down her spine. She closed her eyes, her lips gently grazing his neck.
"I missed you", she whispered... 

It's Time...

Big surprise... It's October and Lebanese Internet still sucks! Wow

Surgery, What's it like?

Morning round at 6:30 AM, end of shift 6PM if you're not on call, and the next day at 6PM if you're on call (36-hour duty), 6 days a week. What's up?

I've never felt or been so out of time for so long in my life. What's it like? Forget about having the slightest bit of time for anything unexpected like your car breaking down or your grandmother getting sick. These have no place in your loaded schedule and most days you have too little time to make a phone call or even to think about it!

On the floors, busy with more tasks than you can count, armed with a loud beeper that won't shut up or stop interrupting you, paged relentlessly by your numerous superiors and their ridiculous requests that could not come at worst times. You feel the need to be at 5, 6 places at the same time, and soon as the day goes by, like butter spread over too much bread.

You feel disrespected, unappreciated, and you want out. Out of the misery, the stress and humiliation. But somehow you pull through it all and get home almost too tired to get out of your clothes and crash on your undone bed and fall asleep to wake up a few hours later for it to start all over again. "Bring it!" seems like the only attitude to take if you are to have any chance of succeeding.

Here's what you do on the first year of a surgery residency.

First call on all your patients's issues.
Loads of paperwork.
Seeing and preparing all new admissions.
Keeping track on all occurrences and treatments done on patients in real time.
Making sure all the labs ordered on patients are within normal and making corrections as needed.
Handle incompetent nurses and be thankful that there are a few who want to help and actually know what they're doing.
Handle all of your superiors' scut work like ordering labs, getting consent forms signed, and transporting blood units or specimens back and forth between the OR and the pathology lab.
Keep track of everything your students are doing and making sure they don't screw up.
Dealing with obstinate and overconfident hypertalkative students, patients, and colleagues
Catering to every attending's immense ego.
Playing secretary and delivering messages between residents and attendings in the hospital who are just too stupid to talk to each other directly.

The list goes on. And the worst part of it is that you never get any form of recognition when you get all of this done right, but get reprimanded heavily at the slightest delay or bureaucratic mistake you make, to the demise of any shred of motivation you might still have had.

What a rush, what a time hole, making you appreciate your only off day in the week like someone starved for a year would appreciate a Big Mac. Wow.

But you know what? I love it! I love that feeling that no matter what happens this year, or the next, or the one after that, something is being built that seems to be worth all the crap you are forced to take. I have students under my supervision now. Students I have to teach, supervise, and help write progress notes. Students who - mostly - look up to their intern with respect and admiration.
And the single most rewarding feeling you have, that will make all of the above seem like a very small price to pay, is the recognition you get from your patients, who often are very sick people that you can help provide with a better life. And it's amazing just how grateful they can be, not because your attending surgeon just performed life saving surgery on them, but more because you devised a way for the dressing on their colostomy to stop leaking stool, the smell of which requires no description when it comes from s diseased colon, from their abdomen and onto their skin and bed sheets, keeping them awake at night. You do something like that, and you end up getting a disproportionate amount of gratitude, and that patient will smile every time you walk into her room.
This feeling, this gratitude, is worth more to me than the highest awards, from Penrose all the way to Alpha Omega Alpha (some of the most coveted awards), making them seem completely trivial once a sick patient calls you their guardian angel just because something you did helped them get a good night's sleep.
There's no beating that. And this mini surgeon is sticking round for more.