To the people who keep taking my stuff...

Stop it!

I hung my white coat in the hallway last week (I had to gown and glove for a quarantined room.). I went back today to retrieve it. The coat was there, but the stethoscope in the pocket was gone!

aaaaargh.

It had sentimental value too! It was Uncle Alex's old stethoscope. Albeit souped up with burgundy tubing.

I wish I hadn't been so absent minded about leaving my white coat lying around. I wish I could safely leave a stethoscope lying around in a hospital. I wish that people would steal things that weren't essential to my transportation, or function at work. I wish people wouldn't take my things.

Ah well.

I shall do my darndest to craft a happy ending out of this sorry affair.

Dexterity check!

To treat recurrent middle ear infections, little drainage tubes are inserted into the ear drum. I'd estimate that they're roughly a millimetre or two long. Someone at clinic yesterday needed one removed from his ear. After sitting him under a microscope, the doctor handed me the most tiny little tweezers. It was a small thing, but I must admit it was a big thrill taking out that ear tube.

Another weekend, another wedding.

This past Saturday, Carol from Queen's got married. It was the first mixed wedding I've ever been to. I sat at a table of Queen's students, most of whom were in the Marching band with me. I had meant to go home that very night, but festive occasions such as these always get a bit out of hand. Six of us ended up crashing in a hotel room. I love weddings.

Now, I'm sure many of you are familiar with the concept of orientation week at university. Second year students lead around first year students in wholesome (and sometimes less wholesome) fun. At Queen's we call orientation leaders Gaels. Carol was my Gael, and when I think of it, I'm amazed at the ripple effect meeting her has had on my life.

Carol played the cymbals in the Queen's Bands. Her enthusiasm throughout Orientation week was truly unflagging, and her message was always "Join the Bands!"

Now. I've never played an instrument one can carry. I had no experience in gymnastics or in dancing...

So it only made sense (in my first year, I'll try anything kind of thinking), that I tried out for tenor drum, cheerleading and highland dancing.

I actually remember asking if asian kids were allowed to try out for Scottish marching bands.

Anyways, I ended up highland dancing every single year I was at Queen's. I spent virtually every weekend either at a football game or at some sort of parade. I can not imagine my undergraduate experience without the Queen's Bands.

I would never have marched in the Toronto Santa Clause parade, or the Boston St. Patrick's day parade. Basically all the extracurriculars I did at Queen's were in some way related to people I had met in Bands (Orientation Week, P&CC, AMS). And finally, some of the best friends I made at Queen's are from the Band.

And all because I was fortunate enough to meet Carol.

Walking home from work

I was on call yesterday for General Surgery. It was a fairly quiet night. I got a respectable amount of sleep and arrived fairly well rested for Clinic this morning.

At the end of the day, I went outside in a futile attempt to find my bicycle. Futile because the search was unsuccessful. My bike has been stolen again.

While walking home from the hospital, I was greeted by two young men in slacks and dress shirts. They introduced themselves as missionaries from the Church of Latter Day Saints. Now the heat in Hamilton is just merciless right now. So I was right impressed by the gentlemen and their dedication.

That is how it came to be that I found myself being walked home by two Mormons, my spandex cycling shorts tight (and utterly redudant) against my skin, in the boggy heat of downtown Hamilton.

My knees

To ensure that one doesn't develop a "wound tattoo", it is important that an abrasion be cleansed thoroughly of dirt particles.

I learn this from a textbook. A textbook propped against my knees. My eyes go from text to patella, from theory to application in a glance.

Search out a child. One who is quick to laugh and squirrelly in movement. They are not hard to find. Examine the knees. They will be blemished. Patterned by previous trips, skins and scrapes. They are a sign of time well spent.

I examine the fading markings upon my own knees, and hear the brisk brrrring of the recess bell, remember squeezing through the narrow alleyway between portables, and feel the cool relief of the water fountain upon my monkey-bar blistered palms.

My knees tell of reckless play, of epic schoolyard battles! Of risking, of taking risks, of ignoring risks, in the pursuit of fun. I'm very proud of my knees.

And my hearing is..........

I just started ENT this week. So far it's quite good. The doctors are very nice. The specialty itself is very varied. Quite a grab bag of medicine.

Yesterday, they were showing me how a hearing assessment is done. The explanation was quite detailed, and a bit over my head.

"Any questions?" the audiologist asked.

"Can you test my ears?" I ask.

I'm led into a sound proof room. The padding is such that there aren't any echoes. Now I know most of us associate echoes with caverns, caves and gullies, but you will know immediately when you're in a room without echoes. It's as if any noise you make is swallowed up by the walls. I sit in a chair and little hearing pieces are inserted into my ears. The task is simple. Little buzzes of varying frequencies and volumes will be played into my ears. All I do is give a sign if I hear a sound.

I have a classmate watching me through the glass. I ignore him completely. I screw my eyes tight. I focus until sweat appears on my brow, like the dew that kisses a can of soda in the summer heat. I've played piano all my life. I sing all the time. I should have super hearing. BAT-like hearing.

There! Was that a buzz? On the very edge of my consciousness! Was that a buzz? Why am I hearing constant buzzing? Is my mind creating noises? Focus focus focus focus focus focu..

I feel a tap on my back.

"Your tests are abnormal. One ear is hearing better than the other. I'm going to replace the right earpiece to make sure."

WHAT! I don't know what to feel. What's this mean? Maybe I should be glad that we caught this on random testing.

More buzzes.

And I'm normal. The ear-piece was malfunctioning. My hearing is normal. Not hyperacute, not asymmetric. Normal.

A Visit from the Boys of Summer

I went to a Baseball game this afternoon with some of my housemates from last year. It was Blue Jays vs. Tampa Bay. The Jays lost. It was a close game though. Baseball is a very peculiar spectator sport. We all fell asleep at some point during the game. Baseball is just that relaxing. The only thing keeping you from going into a really sound slumber is the fear that a ball could come out of nowhere to clobber you.

It was excellent to see people again and catch up. These fellows are truly among the nicest I've met. There's:

Steve - Super tall. Use to play basketball for Mac. Just finished teacher's college at Western and will be starting a job in Kitchener-Waterloo this September! He got married last summer, and it sounds like that's going pretty well. From the sounds of it, he's going to be quite a hard-ass of a teacher. During one of his placements, he kicked a kid off the team because of his bad attitude. The kid wrote him a note apologizing, and he STILL wouldn't let him on the team! He's also been teaching sex ed to grade 10's.

Zeb - Currently studying Social Work at Mac. He just got engaged maybe 2 weeks ago. The wedding is at the end of the year.

Dave - Currently studying physiotherapy at Mac. Just last week, he just broke up with a girl I set him up with. Ah well.

Apparently, while Steve and Dave were working at a summer camp a few summers back, they met a girl without the sense of satiety. Like, she was physically unable to feel full. Anyways, Steve found this out, and organized an eating contest between this girl (who apparently is a wee pixie of a thing) and Dave.
Not only did Dave lose the contest, he threw up twice. To top it all off, the girl ate an apple when the contest was over. egads.

I also learned that both Steve and Zeb talked to their then girlfriends' parents before popping the question. Zeb said that he had some sort of elaborate speech planned, but got nervous and so ended up saying something along the lines of "So I've been dating your daughter for awhile now..."
Either way, I think it's a very nice gesture to talk to the parents. The only thing is that you'll look a bit sillier if she were to turn you down.

Don't make friends with the recently concussed

He was a driver in a t-bone collision with another car. Something I've been seeing with some regularity. A young man with light eyes, he lay in the aseptic glare of the trauma suites fluorescent lights.

While waiting for one of his many tests, I got to talking to the fellow. It was an engaging dialogue about the cars James Bond drives.

"Aha! I think to myself! I'm establishing a sound physician-patient relationship! Truly, this must be the rewards of medicine."

We lapse into happy silence, as I contemplate the importance of my role. He looks up at me.

"Hi! What's your name again?" he asks.

We proceed to have the same conversation. Again. And again. And again.

All quiet on the Western Front

I'm at the hospital right now. I'm on call. It's been fairy quiet so far. The case that was supposed to go the ER has been cancelled.

Although, now that I have remarked on the tranquility of the evening, I am sure that it will quickly become hectic, harried, and ultimately, sleepless. We shall have to see.

I have an elective block coming up in early September. I am trying to think where I should do it, and what I should do it in.

We are spoiled for choice. Too many choices makes people unhappy!

My parents, one uncle and two aunts came to visit me in Hamilton yesterday. We went to eat Thai food. Since they were visiting me at my 'home', it was deemed appropriate that I should foot the bill. And truly, it is very appropriate. An honour in fact! But it really left me feeling very ... old! Not only did I have to choose the restaurant, I also got the bill! I don't understand. It seems like yesterday when visiting relatives would bring me a gift and take me to lunch.
When did I leave the 'child' loop and join the adult one?

In many ways, I suppose it's about time. There are things I think the 'adult' Simon should be. I always thought that I'd just make an natural transition from "kid Simon" into "grown-up Simon". I don't think this is the case. I think I may have to make conscious decisions about how I need to be more 'mature', and then act on them in a very deliberate manner.

So the question is: Which of my qualities are too childish to keep, and which are too simon-ish to lose?

So much family!

I've been thinking back to my recent two week vacation. I spent the first week recovering from dental surgery. I should apologize to my mother for being whiney. It wasn't me. It was those dang drugs. I spent the first half of the second week just sort of hanging around, playing tennis with my father. The end of my vacation was brilliant and hectic. EVERYONE arrived in Ottawa at once. High school friends en masse and family aplenty.

I am too lazy to arrange my memories in chronological order, I shall instead just fire my thoughts onto the page in random fashion.

- When you have a family reunion, all you're really doing is constantly wondering how you're going to feed people.

- My cousin Ryan is a dancing machine. Things are going to get interesting when he hits puberty.

- If I ever wonder where any one of my peculiar habits comes from, chances are I picked it up from someone else in my family.

- Of all the happy events in life to look forward too, family reunions are one of the few that will never let you down.

- Where did Justine learn to catch a frisbee?

- Badminton with my family is very different without Sarah there to beat us.

- It's nice to have cousin Leo to back me up when involved in complex conversations with Uncle Ming about life and morality and true love.

- My high school friends are seriously kinda growing up. But road hockey is as fun as it's always been.

It's late so must sleep. More later if my head is clear enough.

90 and loving it.

I'm back at school now. In fact, I'm at the hospital right now. I'm on-call for orthopedics. I just saw this 90 year old fellow who broke his pelvis after falling down on the 18th hole of a golf course. He plays snooker on Tuesdays, euchre on Wednesdays and Thursdays, dances (40's style) on Fridays and is the chairman of 5 clubs. He was in the airforce during WWII and was married to his wife for 55 years.

He's an inspiring old chap. Whenever I meet someone who has done such a bang up job with living life, I ask them how they knew to marry the person they did. (This may seem silly, but I'm inclined to think that it's really something that can contribute greatly to one's overall happiness. I think if I ask enough people, I'll be able to assemble some sort of case series. While this obviously lacks the power of a randomized control trial, it is still a valuable tool in generating hypotheses. It's a McMaster kind of thing.)

Anyways, I've run across some common themes. It appears common sense may be the over-riding factor. How boring.