Tuesday, December 16, 2008
This is Ed today. Ed lost weight, but only enough to earn 2nd place. Ed is skinny, but not the Biggest Loser.
This is Ed six months from now. Ed wishes he won Biggest Loser. Ed appears maladjusted.
This is Ed in a year. Maybe if Ed didn't eat all those coneys and hobbitses, he would have won Biggest Loser.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
1. Thanksgiving Day -- Malerie woke me up and told me there was a football game going on that morning that my friends wanted me to go play in. Now, when Malerie (harpist) and I got married, I envisioned being woken up every morning to the melodious sound of the harp. Hasn't happened. But the next best thing is being told I'm wanted at a football game. I'll have some more of that.
Later on, we feasted at our place with some friends, watched the parade, the dog show, and some football, and then capped off the night with two games of Cities and Knights of Catan. I'd like to thank the sheep that helped me bring home a warm, wooly victory.
That night, after such an amazing day, I didn't want to go to bed. So I didn't. I drove to Target at 1:30 in the morning and got in line for Black Friday. Holding down the fort as #2 in line out of I don't know how many hundreds, I sort of dozed on the cement outside the front door, covered up by a blanket I found in my car, which if memory serves was the same blanket I peed on one time when I was little. But my dutiful patience with the unforgiving concrete and urine-stained coverings paid off, as I was rewarded with $13 seasons of "The Office," unnamed Christmas gifts for Malerie, and the very last Guitar Hero. As I grabbed that last one, much to the chagrin of a middle-aged female bargain hunter who swore at me like I had just peed on her blanket, I knew I had succeeded.
2. Winter in San Diego -- Is not like winter in Utah. Or Spokane. At all! Malerie and I both really miss the snow and can't wait to see it soon. I am grateful, however, that it has at least been cooling down here in California. After living here for 2.5 years without ever turning on the heater or the (non-existent) air conditioner, we finally caved and cranked up the thermostat this morning.
And now, a list of a few things I'm planning on doing while in Utah for the first time in 9 months:
- Double Country H -- Hires Big H
- Bacon cheeseburger (ketchup only), fries, blackberry shake -- Apollo Burger
- Reconnaissance mission to Hires for Triple H
- Shredded beef burrito, enchilada style -- Café Río
- Giant tofu log -- Wayne's Tofu Hut oh who am I kidding I can't even type that with a straight face
- Walk in snowy canyon with my mom and dad
- Build first snowman with Madeline
- Go to Cottonwood Mall, get gag picture behind bars in "old jailhouse," stop in at old saloon, tour old abandoned mine shaft
- Taking a break from all things medicine for a few weeks.
Friday, November 21, 2008
It’s been a year now since you came to Lake City
Saying, “Coach Whit, won’t you please just start me at DB.
My man will never score and this I guarantee,
I’ve got game according to my mother.”
Now these days Coach Whit says lose the attitude,
Furthermore I hope my job’s not lost and that I won’t be sued
But Harline and Collie have left me one unhappy dude
Because you’ve found fifty ways to blow your cover
Fifty ways to blow your cover
If BYU pulls it out on Saturday, maybe I'll try to do a few more verses. If they lose, look for me at the bottom of the bay.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
What's the worst movie you've ever seen? It's a question I've been contemplating lately. Doing so has given me some bad PTSD, and I plan on suing the makers of the following four movies for the irreparable damage they've done to me and mine.
I left thinking, "There's two hours and eight bucks I'm never getting back."
Agree/disagree? Feel free to share your picks and/or traumatic experiences.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Friday, September 5, 2008
Sadly, that type of grand rounds has gone the way of leeches, lobotomies, and the four humors. Today, grand rounds typically consist of that same group meeting in an auditorium somewhere and discussing the patient's case. . .but without ever seeing the patient. Some dumpy auditorium and no visiting patients? Maybe grands rounds are neither grand nor rounds.
Anything in the name of patient care.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
"I didn't even know what to say," said a mystified Dr. Andrews.
Monday, August 4, 2008
The Red Sox are not the topic of this post, however. The topic is my daughter's growing dexterity. She's figured out how to take her pacifier out of her mouth and how to put it back in. The other day, she was doing this very thing while also playing with her stuffed hippo. I noticed a rather objectionable behavior, and said the following:
"Madeline, pacifier doesn't go in hippo's bum."
Malerie, sitting nearby, started choking with laughter and very nearly spat her milk out all over the place.
Who says parenthood isn't exciting?
Thursday, July 24, 2008
When asked why they made such a drastic decision so late in the process -- much of the shooting had already been completed -- director Christopher Wren says, "If we want to market our movie to people besides women age 16-45, we need something in there besides a dreamy vampire. We need a dreamy vampire who wears glasses, farts a lot, and is socially awkward. We need McLovin."
"I'm at a total loss," comments crazed Twilight fan Brenda Gowdry of Sioux City, Iowa. "I read all of Ms. Meyer's books fantasizing about the day Edward would take me away to his lair and give me passionate, toothy kisses. Edward makes me swoon. McLovin makes me barf."
Other fans remain convinced that the casting change was done out of spite. "I just know my boyfriend is behind this," claims 17-year-old Jane Theyer. "He complains that ever since Edward came into my life, I've made unreasonable demands of him. Whatever. I even offered to pay for those incisor implants and for the set of 30 satin capes, and he still balked."
Yet not everyone sees the switch as a negative. Mintz-Plasse, for example, describes himself as "stoked to the max" to don the cape and fangs. "I plan on bringing my own natural charm to the role," he says, yet also admits he knows little about the character. "As long as Edward's one of those vampires that acts like an idiot and gets drunk in public a lot, I've got it made."
The movie is due out December 12.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
So I checked into cab fares, and I fully intend to report my findings to the Better Business Bureau. Have you seen the racket these cabbies have going? $35 for a 12-mile ride?? For that kind of coin I ought to be going by helicopter, or at least one of those crappy stretch-Geo "limos."
My last option was none other than The Working Man's Champion, The People's Choice--the city bus. Always an adventure in sounds and smells, the bus offers many people the one thing they desperately need. And what might that be? Conveyance? No. Shelter? Wrong again. What many bus riders are really looking for is a captive audience. Go ride one sometime if you don't believe me. You'll feel like an actual captive.
Upstairs in the hospital, I planned out my route online, hoping I wouldn't get to hear about a co-passenger's intestinal complaint again (this actually happened). And then I remembered February 2003.
In February 2003, I was a missionary living in Costa Rica. Another missionary and I had been travelling down near the Panamanian border and were due to return to San José, a healthy seven hours away. As the bus approached, my companion informed me that he had forgotten to buy tickets, which meant we would be riding standby. Rapture. We would be able to sit as long as no other passenger boarded with a ticket for our seat. The first three hours, mercifully, we were able to sit down.
That changed all too soon, as I suddenly found myself standing, packed into the back of the bus like a sardine. Despite my efforts to be a good soldier, I soon started noticing how uncomfortably hot the bus was becoming, what with the wall-to-wall people. Costa Ricans are under the impression that exposure to any sort of cool air causes serious illness, so opening the windows on that inferno bus was out of the question. I even tried to sneakily crack one open an inch or two and steal some air, but the other passengers balked.
After standing in the heat for two hours, I started feeling nauseous. What could I do? There certainly weren't any sickness bags to be found. Thanks to my shenanigans with the window, the other passengers had edged me to the center of the aisle, so I had no easy way to open the window if the worst should happen. Like any good missionary, I cast my eyes to the heavens...
...and saw the emergency exit. Perhaps I could somehow pop open that hatch and release my burden? But nauseous or not, I didn't want my head getting lopped off by a low hanging branch. I thought about just exploding all over the place--that would serve these people right for not giving me window privileges. But then I would have to stand in my own vomit for two more hours.
It soon became apparent that I would need to act, and fast. Desperately, I lunged toward the nearest window, landing, arms extended, on the laps of a seated man and his young daughter. Still laying across their knees, I forced open the window and tossed a surprise into the night. Relief was instant, but also temporary. 30 seconds later, I did it again.
Missionaries are there to answer questions, but I'm almost positive those two poor souls didn't board that bus wondering, "I wonder what it feels like to have someone wretch while in physical contact with me?" But maybe they were.
Perhaps now you can understand my aversion to buses. Fortunately for me and the other passengers, today's trip home was much less eventful. It cost a total of $2.25, so I can buy more motion sickness bags. Plus, the driver looked just like this guy:
Maybe next time, I'll get Mini-Me or even Mr. Bigglesworth.
Monday, June 23, 2008
I am not an early adopter. In fact I'm not sure I'm even an adopter. I waged a dying war against owning a cellphone until 2006, when I was 23 -- if anyone reading this held out longer than that, I'd love to hear about it. Why the anti-cellphone sentiments, you ask? Three reasons: 1. The thought of people being able to get ahold of me whenever they wanted scared me. 2. I liked spending time by myself just thinking, not talking. 3. I liked telling those hyper-aggressive cellphone salesmen at mall kiosks that I didn't own/want a phone -- the incredulous looks on their faces were priceless.
In 2003, during my first semester back at BYU after my mission, as I walked across campus, some dude handed me a flyer for a bit of newfangled technology. It was for some music player that could hold a bunch of songs, and it had the ridiculous name, iPod. Like something named iPod would ever sell! Silly Apple. "No wonder your company went to the dogs!" I thought. Five years later, I own two of the 170 million of these babies that Apple has sold. Not coincidentally, I decided not to go after an MBA....
Technology isn't the only arena in which I play a little slower than the rest, however. A few months ago, I was in the library studying for an anatomy test with some friends. I don't usually listen to music while studying, but that day, I couldn't help but listen to the Justin Timberlake song I had just downloaded. I leaned over to one of my friends and told her to listen in with one of my earbuds. She listened for about 10 seconds and then said, "Yeah, I listened to that song a lot when it came out a year and half ago." Zing. She just laughed.
Sifting through my memories, I have come to realize that my late-adopter ways began in childhood. When I was in third grade, if you didn't have Girbauds, you were not cool. I didn't even know how to pronounce this, and I certainly didn't own any. A couple years go by, I'm in seventh grade, and I finally decide to "cave" and get some of these hot French jeans. As no doubt all of you know, Girbauds by this time had gone the way of Milli Vanilli and New Kids--if you had Girbauds, you were not cool. Shoot! Luckily for me, fashion is cyclical, and if I could just fit into these again, I'm sure I'd be the man one of these years.
So now here I am about to start my third year of medical school and my first clinical rotations. Many of my classmates are excited about the upcoming release of the 3G iPhone, as they plan to make good use of its no-doubt stellar features on the wards. Me, I don't even know what 3G stands for. Is that how many grand it costs? Is it how I'm supposed to feel if I don't buy one (Grim, Guilty, and Gutless)? Does one of the G's stand for Girbaud?
Until such time as mandated otherwise, I'll be taking notes and looking up drugs the way our forefathers intended--in a book. And I'll be doing it wearing some pleated slacks, which are due for a comeback, because like JT sang that day in the library, what goes around comes back around.