Springtime is for lovers

Once the weather warms up, suddenly it's short skirts and t-shirts and couples everywhere. It's wonderful to walk around and enjoy the Spring after a long and sucky winter, but Spring is not without its own troubles.

It's tough not to feel kind of alone. I'm not one typically prone to such whimsy, but I have to say, I'm pretty lonely these days. It's kind of empty, my life. I just come home and eat dinner and then go back to work. That's about it. I wish there was more to it, but there just isn't.

Maybe that's my own fault, really. I mean, I'm just not a social person anymore. I don't have the time or patience to cultivate those kinds of relationships, meeting people out of the blue. Part of meeting people is knowing people, and I just do not know anyone except the people that I meet in the hospital. I lead a pretty sheltered existence, and that's okay for just getting by, but it seems like I should be doing more with my life.

I miss women. I miss the touch, the smell. It's not something that I really expected. It just kind of snuck up on me. And without the cloudiness of jealousy and self-pity and desperation, it's strange to feel lonely and have little control over rectifying this. And so, I am left with *shudder* online dating. To be fair, it's treated me rather well, but that's not really fair; I haven't asked much of it.

I guess I'm not sure what I want out of life right now. It seems like my desires and my options aren't really matching up. I guess it'd be nice if everything fell into place, but in my life, that's not something I've ever counted on.

The finer things

There's nothing wrong with appreciating the finer things in life. Lately, with my new found wealth, I've been enjoying the niceties of existence, such as my new digital camera, my new Swiss made watch, and other joys like writing my notes in the hospital with my Waterman pen. It's a nice $40 Waterman rollerball that I got as a graduation present. It's been sitting in the back of my closet for years, and I finally thought that damn, it's about time I broke it out and started using it.

I used to feel a little guilty about all this capitalistic excess, but not so much anymore, because there's something about the finer things in life. There's something enjoyable to refining one's tastes. I drink Johnny Walker Gold and Highland Park. I buy Darjeeling tea. I enjoy nice things because I've bothered to develop a taste for them.

I wonder if maybe I'm throwing my money away, but it doesn't take long for me to remember that while it's admirable to save for a rainy day, my life is flying by, and after the life I've led to this point, I deserve to enjoy the ride from here on out.

Oh yea!

Today, I was reminded why I went into medicine, and it wasn't anything that I got out of a book. I was talking with a patient and said something about ruling out MI and checking this out and that and how I thought the patient's symptoms were noncardiac. He looked at me and said, "That's easy for you to say."

My reply: "It is easy to say. Would you like me to say it again?" We both broke out into laughter. That's medicine for me, being with people when they've got problems and not offering cures but offering help, whether it's medication or just talking to someone. It's talking about the football game with a guy who has terminal pancreatic cancer. It's joking with a patient about serious medical conditions.

I've often been told that I have excellent rapport with patients, and it's an easy skill to possess. Step one: remember that you're treating patients and not diseases. done.

Memories of dancing

I am still sick. Sick sick sick. And so, my grand plans of meeting up with friends and doing fun things went out the window. Also my plans of doing laundry went out the window. I did manage to church it up and to do my grocery shopping, but otherwise, an uneventful day of watching crap on TV.

And I managed to watch E!'s 50 Steamiest Southern Stars, which was drivel, but they kept talking about the charm of Southern women, and that they are ladies. There's something very sexy about a woman with class and grace. And it reminded me of my own experiences.

And I couldn't help but remember dance class, and the awkward experience that was. I talked about it before. I started in 5th or 6th grade. It was once a week for a few months during the school year. It was taught by these middle-aged folks who awarded all sorts of... scholarly prizes for good dancing, stuff like pens and clocks. I actually managed to win a pen once.

We had to dress nicely for it. Boys were in shirts and ties and proper slacks (wool, ironed, well-fitted). Girls were in dresses and with white cotton gloves, although there were a few with long satin gloves. There was a coat check in the front where we dropped our things, and at the end of the dance class semester, there was a thing where our parents could view their handiwork.

My mom sent me along with some other boys in my grade, not friends but acquaintances mostly. It was part of her master plan to make me into a proper gentleman, someone who could fit into the elitist world which I am still so uncomfortable in. She may have even hoped I would meet a girl, although I doubt it. Asian parents and homework are a universal truth.

There were a few shining moments in dance class though. It was when I first learned that I was unattractive. Really. When I was one of the last to be picked for a dance (or when I was flatly refused for a dance), the first time it was odd. The next time was when the dawning realization set in. I sat out quite a few dances unfortunately, but thanks to it being dance class, there was some girl who was forced to dance with me most of the time.

I also remember dipping, which has its own entry and I won't repeat myself now. But my one nice memory of dance class was when I first learned how to lead. If you've ever done any ballroom dancing, you know what I mean. It's one thing to put your hand on a lady's back and move your feet around. It's quite another thing to actually dance.

It was towards the end of the lessons, and my mom might have even been there, and it was the girls turn to ask the boys. This was usually my 6 minute respite to sit. However, this time, someone actually asked me to dance. I knew the girl; she went to kindergarten with me. It was kinda crowded, so as we danced, I pointed us to the open areas, and I realized while this occurred that when I led, she followed. It wasn't like I was pointing; there were no voice commands or hand signals. It was effortless. We danced, and for once, it was fun.

We of course won no prize or recognition. But it was then that I realized why people like to dance. Most of life is spent having fun by yourself. Even movies and shows, there is a certain anonymity in numbers. But dancing that one time, I found out that you could have fun just being with another person. That could be fun.

I would also later realize that finding a girl who will let you lead is much harder than the actual dancing.

Sick, sick, sick

So of course, I'm sick, and of course, I'm on call. And of course, it's beautiful outside. That's life, I guess, but at least I've got a small collection of pharmaceuticals and I've got a day and a half off. So I'm going to take a little abuse tonight, then kick back for a nice weekend.

I'm tempted to get some antibiotics, seeing as I'm directly blaming one of the other residents for giving me this cold, but I'm very anti-medications. Maybe it's just me, but I think that it's silly for me to use antibiotics when I, more than anyone, should know better.

But I'm not opposed to some Zyrtec...

Curriculum vitae

resume-paper 4, uploaded by Daoist56.

There is nothing so truly horrifying as putting your life accomplishments onto paper and realizing that the only things that people in the world care for, the only things worth mentioning, only take up 2 pages, and half of the first page is contact information. That's a serious blow to the ego. I keep trying to throw more stuff in there, but I just can't come up with anything. It's like there truly is nothing to my life that can flesh all this empty space out.

I guess this is a wake up call that I need to get my butt in gear, start doing stuff that's... productive. I'm like a lump. I'm not useful. Other people are useful. I'm just stagnant. I feel utterly without purpose, all because of a stupid piece of paper.

I think that I need a girlfriend, so at least when I have emotional trauma, it's not self-inflicted.

Bye bye, Pope

I've had a chance to nap a little and to watch the news and to go to church and pray a little, and I thought I'd revise my last entry. I was really hurt to hear of the Pope's passing. The man was extraordinary. He stood as a bastion for righteousness and good in an increasingly secular world.

He made statements that are often criticized because it's not in line with reality (stuff like birth control and condoms and stuff), but here's the deal: it's Church with a capital C. It's not supposed to be about what's pragmatic; it's about what's right. He was old sk00l, yah, but it's the Church we're talking about here. And the Catholic Church is very reassuring in that no matter how turbulent the world is, there is some consistency. Mass still happens on Sundays.

I wish I had a chance to meet the guy. He was amazing. He was a friend to the poor and the impoverished, to the 3rd world, and to the world's youth. He stood out against tyranny and violence in all forms. He believed in humility and he made amends for the injustices wrought by the Church in the past. The world is less without him.

But I got to thinking last night that in a way, this feels right, for a few reasons. He was in florid sepsis, probably urosepsis, and he crumped. He wasn't in an ICU getting tubed and having pressors poured in one central line and vanco poured in another. He went out with a little dignity and respect. Also, he let them televise the ceremonies and lying in state, so that people all over the world could see him and we could all pay our respects in our hearts.

But lastly, I was reminded of something. A priest told me once that they call the life of Jesus the 'Greatest Story Ever Told.' And if Jesus hadn't risen from death, that's all it would be, a story. We'd all remember some guy who was really nice and helped a lot of people who got caught up in some political thing and was executed. Tragic. A tearjerker. But completely insignificant.

The pope was great in his servitude. We loved him because of his devotion to God. And his death, although sad, is not unexpected or even unwelcome. By all reports, he passed quite peacefully. Yes, I miss the Pope. He was the best of men, holy beyond even his station, but he was just a man. And even the best of men die.

A quiet life

My life is very quiet lately, and uneventful. There's not much to my existence. It's quite pitiful, actually. I wish that I could get a handle on it and be able to say that everything's going in the right direction, but I can't even say that much. It's all just a big mess lately.

I want to find myself, and the problem is that I can't really. I want to break free and breathe, but I'm stuck.

Really, I'd just like 2 real days off, so I can remember who I am.