Back from the other side

Hey you guys, you guys, guess what?  Amazing news!  Stop the presses, extree extree!

Turns out, med school is a lot of work...

Yeah.  Like, a whole buttload of work.  I just wanted to let all y'all know that the news of this blog's demise have been greatly exaggerated, and that I am still going strong(ish).  I have finals in a couple of weeks, and yeah, the pace of school has been ridonkulous, but I'm still here, they haven't kicked me out, so, life is good.  I've been getting involved in extracurriculars, grabbing a couple leadership positions, but mostly focusing on passing my classes.

Stay tuned medlings.  There is much to tell, many stories to recount, and an plethora of fresh horrors to describe!

Your Friend,

Axl

...gulp...gulp...gulp...gulp...BREATH

Ho

Lee

Crap

So classes haven't even started yet - it's just orientation, and already I am reeling.  It's madness. Where do I even begin...

OK so yesterday, here is an account of my lunch:

I sprinted home, made some pasta, then ate, pooped, and wrote emails virtually at the same time.  I didn't have time to finish my lunch (poop took priority), and then I bolted back to school.

And HERE is a lovely account of my dinner:

I drove home, changed my clothes, ran in to the kitchen and literally just stuffed as many cold tortellinis in my mouth as I could, and ran out the door.  By the time I had chewed and swallowed my dinner, I was half-way back to school.

Yeah.  This shit is crazy!  This is literally, literally, the first consecutive hour in a row that I have had to "relax".  For your reading pleasure, the following is an account of the highlights of med school orientation so far:

1) My class is severely alcoholic.  Now don't get me wrong, I am a partaker, and I HAVE had times in my life where I was partying harder, but only marginally.  If at all.  Every single night so far, there has been a blinding bacchanalian bender at the graduate housing.  Like, total madness.  I have slept no more than 5 hours a night since last saturday night.  And I'm not even getting blind drunk cause I have to drive home, but it's just crazy good times!

2) Med school emails.  Are you serious right now?  My inbox is just groaning under the weight of the med school emails.  I am seriously getting 3-4 an hour all day.  And all of them have important shit in them.  So I actually have to read them.  And do I look like I can read?  C'MON!

3) Team building exercises.  I have never done these before, but we were out on a ropes course in small groups, and I gotta say, it was super sweet.  My team and I totally sucked - we didn't get over the wall, we didn't make it across the rope swing, but we had a blast not winning.  We were definitely the best, most awesome team at not winning.  But in all seriousness, I think I got really lucky with my group - no weirdos, no chodes, no d-bags.  Pretty awesome.

4) Med school is going to be hard.  Like, actually, seriously hard.  Like, I-accidentally-mainlined-40-cc's-of-cialis hard.   There is going to be just... so much material... so much.

5) Med students are, for the most part, a cool bunch.  Scientists, but not nerds.  All types really.  My class has a ridiculous variety of people in it, and everybody is brillianter than me, but that's fine, I can shred circles around them haha!

OK- that's all for now.  I have a couple of precious hours to get my life in order.  I have been totally ignoring my laundry, my dishes, my cat, my hygiene, and pretty much everything else.

Wow dude.  Here we go.  Liftoff.

Holy shit, here we go!

Holy shit, here we go!  Med school starts tomorrow!

\m/etal

Oh man, I love metal... it's never going to become my primary function in life (I think it may finally be time to acknowledge that), but damn!  Love it!  This is another FL band that, as far as I understand, recently disbanded.  Boo.  They are Written in Blood, and you are listen to it on Spotify.  So good.  Not signed, not nothing.  It's so reassuring to see that a band THIS good couldn't make it - it means I never had a chance haha!

I listened to this album, and I was just like:

Never Ever Forget This Day

Today is Wednesday, July 11th, 2012.  Today is 1,884 days from the day I graduated college, 1,464 days from the first time I took the MCAT, 459 days from the second time I took the MCAT, 531 days from the day I started writing this blog, 25 days before I start at an Ivy League med school, and 0 days from the last time that I couldn't pay my rent and had to ask my girlfriend to spot me $400.  I'm never going to forget the way this feels. 


Today is payday at The Filthy Gunslinger.  I got my paycheck, went home, paid my bills, and realized that I don't have enough money for rent.  So I went out and bought ramen.  That's lunch and dinner for the next week.  If I eat breakfast, it will be a muffin or scone that I swipe from the bakery display at work.  My car will be out of gas by Saturday, so I'll walk the 2 miles to work next Sunday thru Wednesday.  Am I embarrassed?  Yeah, but it's exactly this kind of shit that kicked me in the ass 1,593 days ago and put me on the path to a career that will put food on the table and make me feel like I am actually doing something that matters with my life.  My woman won't think less of me, and I won't starve in the next 7 days.  This bullshit will pass, and this is the last time that I won't be able to pay my rent.  

It's the days like this that will drive me to kick med school right in the taint.  I am going to dominate med school to the best of my ability because I never want to feel like this again.  Fuck being poor.

What to expect when you're pre-med-ing

It has recently come to my attention that I will be starting med school very, very soon.  As of this writing, my fancy new countdown clock reads 56 days and change.  I must admit to conflicted feelings:

1)  Unbridled, Barely-contained, Pants-wetting Excitement
Oh the places I'll go!  Money! Power! Chicks!  The world is my oyster!  Do I want to be a pediatric onco-plastic-neurosurgeon?  Or perhaps I'll settle for spinal trauma surgery?  There's always cardioelectrophysiology if I need a back-up plan!  Either way, I'll make a million dollars a year and buy a sick fleet of jet-black Ferraris, fuck yeah!  And I'll hire a team of race-car drivers to drive them, we'll race through Santa Monica every morning, and I'll beat them all right before I hit the golf course every afternoon.  Life is going to be saaaa-weeet!

2)  Untamed, All-consuming, Pants-wetting Terror
Oh. My. Shitballs.  What have I done. Lateral wha? Medullary reticulo-spinal who?  Loracarbef, imipenem, and penetrex?  More like Lookimabarf, Imapeemyself, and...penetrex.  Who comes up with this shit?  My girlfriend is studying for her first year final exams, and she literally had to memorize a random list of about 400 bacteria, antibiotics, fungi, and other stuff, and everything about all that stuff.  The spreadsheet literally looked like Dr. Seuss shat a gleeful rainbow turd in every cell.  Furazolidone?  Fookayouzidone!  I quizzed her, and, literally, I couldn't figure out how to even say 80% of the words I was reading, let alone understanding them.  What. Have. I. Done.  It's ok, maybe everybody else will be stupider than me, and they can't fail the whole class right?  Right!?!?  (As a side note, my gf actually knew the spreadsheet pretty cold... so either she's sick at med school, or the average med student is capable of learning this stuff...)

3)  Unreasonable Hope

Maybe I'll be a natural, and it will all come easy to me!  Perhaps I can develop photographic memory so that when they throw a phone book at me and tell me to learn it, I wont crap myself.  Or maybe I should start building one of those memory palaces where I can store away all those nuggets of knowledge in the nooks and crannies of my mind.  Of course, when I try to build my memory palace, I instead imagine a mammary palace, and the whole pursuit gets entirely sidetracked... heh heh... my boob scepter will have a nipple on top... my throne will be made of...boobs.


4)  Somewhat Ambiguous Mania
It's OK!  It'll all be OK!  I can do it!  It's going to be great! Fun times!  Don't even think about it!  One step at a time! Baby steps!  I'ma rock it for sure maybe!  I know I'm cut out for this!  Or I'm not but that's OK too I'll just cut my self out for it!  Yay go team!
And the worst is when someone asks me if I'm "excited", and I'm like "Yeah of course duh!" but inside I'm like "Uhhh...ihavenofuckingideawhatishappeningIguessit'llbecoolmaybesure".

 5) Empty-headed, Slack-jawed Resignation
 At some point, you come to the realization that, hey, I have no idea what the future holds, but I'm on this train, and I'm gonna ride this bitch wherever it'll take me.  And that's that.

Plastic Surgery and Getting Beast!

On Thursday, I am meeting with a plastic surgeon in regards to getting a research gig in his lab.  I'm really excited because I am thinking I might be interested in plastic surgery as a specialty.  I have worked with plastic surgeons in research before, and I have to say, they do some really really cool shit.  The dude I'm meeting on Thursday peels kids's faces off, cuts their facial bones apart, and glues them back together to repair facial defects. Bad Ass.

Plastics is of course notoriously hard to match in to.  The match rate for most specialties is well above 80%.  For plastics, it's under 50%, meaning that less than half of people who want to become plastic surgeons out of med school do so.  Whatever, if you're super-driven to pursue something, you just go for it and make it happen.  I have to say, the more I learn about the business of medicine, the more surprised I am by the variety of work that falls under the purview of this profession.  As a physician, you could do anything from sit at home looking at slides of cells to threading electrodes in to peoples hearts.  Crazy.

In other news, Heavy Metal Vixen and I are exercising like beasts.  With summer approaching, we both need to look super sexy for all the ladies and the mans.  Being a power couple just isn't as easy as it ought to be.

This is me ------------>

I've been working on my pecs and bi's and tri's.  Curls, pull-ups, and of course, moustache-ups.  At the time this photo was taken, I was simultaneously trying to break the chain in my hands and break the wind from my butt.  And doing a moustache-up.

<-------------This is Heavy Metal Vixen (and, I believe, an example of hardcore porn from the 30's)

She's been doing a lot of cardio. Eliptical, jogging, and biking.  This is an actual photo of her biking.  I have suggested a more practical outfit, spandex or something, but she insists that the stockings and stilettos improve circulation to her extremities.  I don't know about all that, although it definitely improves circulation to one of MY extremities.  heh.

Metalhead to Ivy Med

So a couple days ago, I was accepted to an Ivy League med school. 

I'm just going to type that again. Accepted. To an Ivy League med school. That just doesn't even feel right under my fingers. It doesn't feel real. And when I realize that it IS real, I just feel humbled. I know I know, it's not like Axl Rose to be humble, but there you have it- strange things happen. And me going to a top med school is one of them. Somehow I got from A to B:

 A = Graduated college with a terrible, terrible GPA, tried to become a rockstar in NYC, failed, studied for the MCAT, applied, failed to get in to med school.  Picked myself up off the floor, and got cracking again.

 B = 2 years later, accepted to a ridiculous, top medical school.

So how did this happen? Hell I don't know. Some mixture of good luck, fortuity, and adventituosity. But perhaps there is a method to the madness you say, some secret underlying order to the chaos? Hmm... I think it's time for another long-awaited installment of:

"Axl Rose's Fully-guaranteed Partially-funded Semi-transparent Trans-fat-free Ultimate Good Fun Times Guide To Going from Metal-Head to Ivy-Med"


Step 1: Fail

I can't understate the importance of starting off strong, by failing.  Failing puts you at square 1, which is where the magic happens.  Square 1 is the place where all things are possible because you've lost everything else, and nothing but the black, gaping maw of possibility lies ahead.  And stuff.

Step 2: Run

Run hard ahead, headfirst in to the buffeting wind, letting obstacles strike but glancing blows and drop clattering in your wake.  And shit like that.  From square 1, you gotta fight to get to square 2, and there will be a million other people trying to get there ahead of you.  In my case, step 2 involved taking the MCAT for the second time and reapplying.  That sucked.  Life was really hard.  But you keep running.

Step 3: Repeat Steps 1 & 2 If Necessary


Fail, run, fail, run.  If you have a goal and you keep running at it, you'll get there or die trying.  Simple as that.

Step 4: Winning


A weird feeling.  When you finally get to where you were tryin to go.  It's the best feeling in the world, and at the same time, it's weird to not have to fight, to stop running.  You've gotten there.  You did it.  Now what?

Luckily, there's usually a gaping black maw of possibility right around the corner.  Yes!  Start running in to that one!  In my case, the challenge ahead is medical school.  Then residency.  Then life.  Bring it.

So hatredy.

The latest goings on:

1) I am accepted to a sweet med school in Boston. As of now, I plan to matriculate there in August.

2) I am waiting to hear back from a top-tier Ivy League ultra-fancy-pants med school here in Metalton. Should they offer me a spot, I would have a tough decision on my hands. Should they offer me a waitlist, well then shit, this thing could drag out all summer. Speaking of summer...

3) I will be in Filthadelphia for the summer! I will be doing research in West Philly in June and July. It'll be sad to be away from Heavy Metal Vixen and Bobbins Magellan Mouse-Destroyer 3000, but it beats the snot out of pouring coffee and pole dancing at the Filthy Gunslinger all summer long. That pole can get real slick in the summer months... downright dangerous.

4) Latest music discoveries include Angel Vivaldi (thanks broseph!), Foxy Shazam (a retro Freddy Mercury clone, on top 40 radio of all places!) and of course, BATTLECROSS! So metal. So awesome. So hatredy.

That's the latest goings on. 8 weeks left at The Filthy Gunslinger, and counting.

Radio Silence

S'up Y'all!

So, there has been some SEVERE radio silence on my part for a couple of... er... a long-ass time. The reason for this is that I have been abducted by aliens and carried off to their homeworld. It has been really hard finding an internet connection here, but I finally found a cafe with some decent wifi, and thought I better check in.

The latest goings on:

1) Med school. It is starting in 5 months. Where will I be matriculating? I don't know yet. I have an acceptance at a Boston School, but I am waiting to hear from one other school that I am very interested in. Until that all shakes out, I am...

2) Still working at the Filthy Gunslinger: Cafe and Male-Strippery. Work is fine but boring as hell. I feel like I am just killing time, but as far as killing time goes, you could do worse I suppose. As an aside, one of the coffees we serve at the Filthy Gunslinger is called Vanilla Nut Cream. Most of us call it "va-NILLA nut cream", but one of the guys there called it "va-nilla NUT CREAM", and it was funny...

3) Facebook. I was one of the first 1000 people on it back when it started (2003-ish?). I am a pioneer damn it! But essentially since I signed up, I was never really in to it. In the last week, I found that actually, Facebook can be kind of cool. I've been in touch with old friends that I have ignored for a long time, and I am meeting new friends who are also heading to med school in the Fall. So that's cool.

Other than that all and getting abducted by aliens who want to probe my tender bottom, there has really not been much going on, hence the radio silence.

BUT...

That is all about to change. Well, not right away, but soon. Because soon I will be introducing my Brand-Spanking-New Blog-About-Being-A-Real-Ass-Med-Student-Blog!! (That's "REAL-ass med student", not "real ASS-Med student"...words, hehe)

I look forward to you looking forward to reading about my misadventures in med school. Until then, hold on to your butts, cause it's going to be bedlam baby!


P.S. The Mona Lisa above is holding the (almost) exact guitar that I play! A seven-string Ibanez! Woot!

Talkin' Snitch and Riding Switch

Someone somewhere on the internet recently posed this question: if someone lies to med school admissions committees about their experiences and then gets an acceptance to med school, do you have a moral responsibility to snitch on them?

Answer = No. Snitching is wrong, and you should mind your own beeswax, and karma will sort them out. Who are you to say what is right and wrong? Maybe fate wanted that person to get in, and didn't mind them bending the truth.

but...

Answer = Yes. This is med school we are talking about. That person will have someone's life in their hands someday. If have no integrity, is that even safe for patients?

hmm...

Final answer = I guess so, yes. If you know for sure that someone lied or cheated their way in to med school, you should probably say something. Karma may be a bitch, but in my experience, a lazy bitch. I mean, if someone lied or cheated their way in to law school, they should probably get a medal, and will probably graduate at the top of their class lol. But when a doctor takes shortcuts, people die...

In unrelated news, I went ridin' today! As in, snowboarding. The slopes around Metalton finally opened up. I got my board out, waxed that ass, and ripped it up! It was so sweet. The only thing is that I forgot my goggles at home, so I ended up with frikkin ice burn all up on my face. Ouch. But awesome.

Next time, I must get a baclava for my face... Also, Heavy Metal Vixen. Badass snowboarding chica.

Free money: clothed people need not apply.

So you may or may not know that medical school costs more than a black market human liver. For the cost of your med school education, you could buy a Mclaren F1. You could buy 300 televisions, all of them 60" flat-screen LCD's, and cover every wall of your house with high-def sweetness. You could buy 100 purebred Arabian racehorses, and then hire 100 nuns to race them in the Kentucky Derby. In green-man costumes.

For the cost of a med school education, I could resurrect Kim Jong Il, buy him a Batman costume, and hire him to fight crime in Gotham.

So on my last day off before I go back to work tomorrow, I thought it would be smart to start looking for scholarships. I thought I might find some that are specific-ish to me. You know, scholarship for people of Germanic descent. Scholarships for people with research background.

Well, here is what I found instead:

1) Scholarship for Excellence in Predicting the Future

This is an actual scholarship. It is for people who are able to predict the economic trends in the stock market and stuff like that. You know what? If they can predict the stock market, why the fuck do they need a scholarship!?

2) Sophie Major Memorial Duck Calling Scholarship

This is an actual scholarship. For people who can call ducks with one of those duck whistles. That's right. If you can make ducks appear by blowing on a whistle, they'll give you money. Now, I don't mean to belittle the memory of Sophie Major, but was she so passionate about duck calling that she thought it warranted a scholarship? Apparently I am from the wrong part of America to understand this. Fair enough... but get this:

3) American Nudist Research Library Scholarship

This is an actual scholarship. If you do significant research in to nudity, you can get money. Really nudists? Really? Research this, nudists: why do you all gots to show us your shameful, shameful bodies? Any why is there no such thing as a hot nudist?

4) National Marbles Tournament Scholarship

Money for playing with my balls? I'm in.





5) Frederick and Mary F. Beckley Scholarship

For lefties. You know what? That's racist, sir.

Anyways, that's all. Also, I just have to throw this family portrait in the mix:

Also, I have been listening to a lot of Gojira. Awesome metal band out of France. Plus, if you ever get the urge to listen to literally 4 minutes and 20 seconds of people screaming bloody murder, listen to the track 1990 Quatrillions De Tonnes. Seriously, lol.

What...to do....now...?

And now that I have finally gotten in to med school, after months and years of waiting for test scores and secondary applications and interview invites and final decisions and letters in the mail, what am I doing?

Waiting for med school to start, haha!

I have about 7 months to kill, so I figured I should be proactive and use those 7 months for good, or perhaps for evil, but either way I ought to use them. I suppose there are many good and useful things you could do in 7 months:

1) Write a book. It could be the next great American novel. Or perhaps a biography of Ronnie James Dio. I'm pretty sure you could write a full-length book in 7 months.

2) Get pumped like Arnold Schwartzenegger. I bet if you worked out constantly, you could basically get into Mr. Universe shape...

3) Learn to shred. I mean really burn on the electric guitar. Right now, I am like lightning on the old fretboard. My fingers are a blur. But if I practiced hard for 7 months, I could be faster than greased lightning, and my fingers would be invisible.

4) Train my cat Bobbins Chookums Magellan Mouse-Destroyer 3000 to be a circus cat. He will dive through flaming hoops of death in to an 8 ounce cup of water. Or, more likely knowing my cat, he will stare intently at the flaming hoops of death for a few seconds, and then become distracted and/or fall asleep.

5) Train myself for the World Beer-Chugging Championships. True story: the guitar player in my band in college was a national beer-chugging champion. In Ireland, bitch. I didn't believe him at first, so I challenged him. We both poured a pint in to glasses, and on the count of 3, started drinking. 2 seconds later, I had drunk about 1/5 of my pint, and he had finished his. It was a thing of beauty. I've never seen anything like it. He has somehow figured out a way to just open his throat so he can literally pour it in to his stomach. Is that physiologically possible? I don't know. Yes, I guess...

Anyways, yeah. Right now, I just feel like I am killing time at my job at the Filthy Gunslinger. My work is alternately tolerable and mind-suckingly boring. [sigh...] I'll let you know when I select my big project.