Dear Mom,

Feliz cumpleaños! Today would have been your 55th birthday. Gosh you're getting old! ;)

I know it's been some time now, but I still find myself wanting to call and talk to you about what's going on in my life. I miss the comfort in hearing you say, "Todo va a salir bien." But I've learned that, for the most part, things do turn out okay.

What did you think of the fireworks this year? I know you loved them; you always did. I like to think that now you have the best view of all.

Happy 55th! I miss you. Tu sonrisa vive en mi por siempre.

Independence

The Nation's Capital. Can you think of a better place to celebrate Independence Day?

I will be going to a small get-together late this afternoon, and then I will make my way down to The Mall to enjoy the Capitol Fourth celebration, which is being hosted this year by Tony Danza of "Who's the Boss?" fame. You can't help but feel patriotic when you are surrounded by the Capitol Building, the Washington Monument, the Lincoln Memorial, the Jefferson Memorial, the FDR Memorial, the WWII Veterans Memorial, the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, the Korean War Veterans Memorial, and the White House. Now imagine them at night, all lit up, with one of the best fireworks displays in the nation. The experience can't be beat.

As a reminder of what today's celebrations are all about (because CLEARLY we have forgotten), I have posted below some of the text of the Declaration of Independence that was drafted and signed in Philadelphia in 1776. You can read the full text at The National Archives.

Happy Fourth of July! Be safe.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.--That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, --That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shewn, that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security.

Anatomy Lab

I have mixed feelings about anatomy lab. On the one hand, I enjoyed nothing more than learning the anatomy of the body and seeing it on the cadaver, but on the other hand, most dissections were a tedious chore. On yet another hand (work with me people), I struggled, on a spiritual level, with the poor treatment of some of the bodies.

Anatomy came easy to me. I could study figures from Netter's Atlas of Human Anatomy, go into the lab and identify the structures, review by flipping through Moore's Clinically Oriented Anatomy, and calling it a day. I think it has to do with the way my brain is wired. As I mentioned in the "Teaching" post, I am a visual learner. Once I saw a structure and identified the structures around it, it just stuck in my mind. For example, if it was a muscle, I could visualize what it would move and any nerves and blood vessels associated with it. I think it has something to do with the way my brain processes and stores spatial arrangements. For instance, when taking Organic Chemistry in college, determining whether a given stereoisomer was the S or R configuration, was like distinguishing my right shoe from my left.

The only lesson learned from actually dissecting was that the body has a lot of fat and fascia. I feel that many of the hours wasted in lab could have been better used studying physiology and the rest of the lecture material. It is just not possible for everyone to work on the body at the same time. In addition, when the instructor came around to review structures, it was not possible for everyone to see the demonstration. Having said all that, a couple of the dissections (e.g., opening the cranium, opening the thoracic cavity) were exciting and really held my attention. I do not believe that lab is pointless. I simply think that it is most effective with a small group and, unfortunately, my tank had a lot of people.

How does one decide that they are going to participate in a body donation program? At this point in my life, I could not make that choice. I can't even bring myself to become an organ donor, though I like the idea and understand that it could save someone's life or improve their quality of life. I mean, it's not like I'm going to need my organs when I'm dead, right?

The individuals who donate their bodies to medical education trust that their bodies will be used and handled appropriately and treated with respect. I feel that this trust was broken by tanks that allowed their bodies to quickly dry up and that did not wrap and cover their bodies well at the end of their sessions. I heard some people making jokes or inappropriate comments about the bodies. My strong feelings on this issue made it difficult to look at and work on the face. At times I would think, "We should not be doing this." But I can see that these feelings have to do with me and the beliefs that my mother had about the connection between mind, body, and spirit.

To those individuals and families that donated bodies to further my medical education, I say Thank You.

"Question!"

"Shut up!"

Sorry. It's reflexive. Let me try to explain.

Imagine. You are in medical school, which means that you are probably a bit high-strung and anal retentive. You are under intense pressure to learn (i.e., memorize) a million facts about human histology, physiology, embryology, anatomy, etc., every 2-3 weeks. You are presented with this information during 50-minute lectures five times a day, five days a week, for approximately 40 weeks. It's a terribly fast pace so you try to pay attention and jot notes as the professor flips through their 100-slide presentation. If they don't get through the whole presentation, it is up to you to go over it yourself at a later time (yeah, good luck). This is why questions should be asked sparingly and only to clarify key points or discrepancies. Three of my classmates, however, felt compelled to ask at least three asinine questions during each lecture hour.

"Question! You just said that blood enters the right side of the heart, so does that mean that blood enters the right side of the heart?"

"Question! You keep saying 'intracellular' and 'extracellular'. . . does that mean 'inside' and 'outside' the cell?"

"Question! My friend has long legs and a short torso, so does that mean they have Klinefelter syndrome?"

"Question! --"

"SHUT UP!"

Lecutre Hall

The first-year medical lecture hall was a fascinating landscape. This vast expanse consisted of distinct territories and, as occurs throughout the animal kingdom, distinct groups were associated with these territories. The lecture hall was divided into three primary sections: Left, Center, and Right. Each primary section was further subdivided into three secondary sections: Front, Middle, and Rear. Distinct groups established themselves within these territories early in the school year. Those seated in your immediate vicinity were likely to become your closest friends at school.

Movement within your section (e.g., Left Rear) was generally accepted, but heaven forbid you move to another (e.g., Left Rear to Right Middle). I committed this ultimate faux pas one morning when I arrived to lecture thirty minutes late. Not wanting to disturb those seated in the aisle seats of my section, I took a seat in the Center Rear section. "What's wrong?" "Are you lost?" "What happened?" "Did you have a falling out with X?" "Why are you sitting here?" Clearly, I had upset the fragile lecture hall landscape. When break time arrived after an hour of lecture, I quickly made my way to my usual seat.

Through the year, the lecture hall became a second home. It's a place I went not only to listen to lectures, but to eat, sleep, study and socialize. It also provided constant entertainment: people falling down steps, people tripping up steps, dropped laptops, spilled coffee, and -- I kid you not -- George Foreman grilling.

I know for sure that next year will be much of the same, albeit in the noticeably smaller, more intimate setting of the second-year lecture hall.