Sunday, December 1, 2013

Former Slaughter Bound Chevalier Needs Help

Please consider donating to help this poor horse.

After weeks of the lameness not easing up, I had the vet come to xray him.

Chevy has been bone on bone for a long time.  It is akin to our knee joints rubbing on each other, except, we don't bear the kind of weight that a horse does and it is not proportionate to a human either.

Link To Chevy's Fund

Please watch his video.  I will be updating it soon as well with his xrays and other ideas that people are doing for fundraising.

Thank you!

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

Home, SAFE, Home

After $189, three weeks of waiting, 72 hours in a trailer with arthritic feet, Chevy is home.

My heart soars, my eyes well, and my soul sings that Chevy is safe.

He will never see a slaughterhouse.  He will never wear a yoke, or a harness, or ... well, probably never wear anything!

Chevy's story started in 1996.  Born to a farm in Pennsylvania to an Amish family, he was bred to work.

And work him, the Amish did.

No doubt as long as he plowed and pushed and loaded and ... they took good care of him.  But when the time came that he feet hurt, and he started becoming arthritic, they dumped him in the slaughter house.

For $189, and a village of helpers, Chevy is safe.

As he unloaded off the trailer, my heart stopped.  Memories of Susie Q last winter raced through my head.  Chevy steadied his feet, took a step, then another and soon, he was in his stall eating hay.

I hope, he is now resting.  Waiting for another day's sun to shine, another warm petting and love, waiting for some more pain medication.

I'm blessed.  Really, really blessed.

Hoping he doesn't fall, doesn't stumble and that I can get him to his stall to have pain meds.

"Almost there, Chev, we're almost there" I kept whispering to him.  Not sure who was calming who!

"Here we go, Chev.  You're safe.  You're home.  You're loved."

Bute + hay + bedding + NO trailer = happy, loving Chev!

Monday, October 14, 2013

Rescuing Things

Seems odd.  How long I've been at this.  How many people come into my life, look at me, smile and then ask, "Why are you stopping?"

To which I reply... my son is studying Mandarin, hoping to get his MBA in finance, and then law degree - from Harvard no less.

To which I reply ... my parents need my help, they are elderly and frail, and I pay for them, no less.

To which I reply ... sometimes, other people have greater needs than I do and so I wait, and I hear about school, and I mourn the loss of a dream, no less.

Then, no less, something magical happens and I start thinking about biochem, and organic, and evo bio, and physics, and then... the dream has life, no less.

The no less that I did for me?

Introducing Chevalier.

He has lumps, bumps, bruises, a bit of ringbone and tad bit of sidebone.  He has some needs that medically I understand.

He got me thinking about how bute dissolves in the kidneys but puts extra pressure on the liver.  He got me thinking about way to counteract that... and then... I was back in biochem.

My $189 saved from the kill pen, 17 year old Percheron who just needs to be loved.

I can do that.  And maybe while upon his stable manger, I can drag out the MCAT books that call me, and the Kaplan course which is paid for, and just maybe, between me saving him, and him saving me, I can go get this thing done.

Not dead. Not done.  Just need a quick kick in the pants once in awhile.

Friday, August 9, 2013

Lacking Time, Or Not

It's not that I don't have time to post, I do.  It's not that I don't have a laptop when I travel, I do (thank you G-man!).

It's that.  I'm done.  Kicked in the gut, reality check, stomach churning, done.

And I'm okay with that.

Bentley's paw continues to heal.  We are almost 3 months into treatment for pseudomonas, beta hemolytic strep, and MRSA.  The medications for humans is zpac and cipro have been given to him in daily doses, along with SSD 1% and and acetyl keti chlor antiseptic.

The initial wound in July 2012, shortly after we moved to sunny, hot, humid (AWESOME!) Florida.  Yes, it was a snake.  Yes, it was a water moccasin (eeek!).

This is after cephalexin would not heal the wounds and it was cultured.

And after almost 2.5 months of treatment, this is where we're at today.

Better, but not cured.  But it will be.  Bentley is a love, a heartmender, a trusted furry friend.  There is no quitting with MRSA there is only diligence, hope, and vigilance.

Tuesday, June 18, 2013

Bentley - Update

Meds started on Th.  Cipro in the morning, Zpac at night.  30 mg Pepcid 20 mins after giving the meds.

It's a bit better.  Less red, starting to dry up.  Maybe the meds will kill the pesky bacteria and my boy will be okay sooner, rather than later!  I'd like that and if you didn't know any better, you'd never know something was wrong with him.

He still "talks" to me each morning, and greets me with the same waggy tail.  What you see below is FAR better than it was.

Here's to hoping Sir Bentley keeps on, keeping on :)

Thursday, June 13, 2013

Here I Go Again - Bentley

Seems that in my life, things - humans, dogs, horses - have been the impetus for research all things medical.

Bentley - my almost 3 year old great dane and heartmender (see Storm story along left side bar for that long tale) - appears to have taken up the torch.

We moved to sunny, hot, humid FL last summer.  And for the most part, I have loved every day of living there - the sunshine is ALWAYS out, the rain comes and goes, and not a day goes by that I'm wearing jeans.

Two or three days after moving to FL, I took Sir Bentley outside, along the concrete walking path the circumnavigates our specific complex, and he was being him.  Sniffing, peeing - you know, dog things!  On one particular night, he spooked, or that is, he jumped and spun around on his leash.  I wondered what spooked him as he really is "bomb" proof.

The next day, or the day after that, I was talking to a friend of mine on the phone, petting Sir B, when I noticed the below.

Yeah.  Instant thought: snake bite.  Have I ever mentioned on here how utterly TERRIFIED I am of snakes?  I don't detest them, I like they eat mice, and keep other vermin out of my house.  But I am absolutely, pass-out terrified of them... no matter how harmless.

But there on my dog's paw was what looked like to me to be a snake bite.  No swelling, no bruising, no movement or discomfort from Bentley so my friend, looking at the picture via text message said not to worry.  It was not e-vet time.

Months passed.  The wound did not heal.  I took Bentley to the vet.  That vet wanted to run $1000 worth of tests.  I left with a prescription of Cephalexin (broad spectrum dermatologic antibiotic) and hoped for the best.

It didn't clear up.

I called back to talk to different vet, one more pragmatic with my money.  She ran a battery of tests.

Nothing unusual.

Bentley came with me back to my former home state.  I took him to my long time vet.  She took a look, said it seemed to be a lick granuloma and prescribed a higher dose of Cephalexin.  14 days, 2500 mg, 2x / day.

It didn't clear up.

I called my vet back.  What now?

Let's culture it.  Let's find out what it is susceptible to.  Or I can just prescribe a different antibiotic and hope for the best but the downside is that it may not cure it and then we're another 2 weeks out.

I asked, stupidly, if while culturing it if they would look for the "Really bad cells" (aka tumor cells).  No, the vet said, we would not,  We would have to aspirate for that.  We could take a cursory look but a surface scrub for culture would most likely not produce enough cells for us to see mast cells.

I said culture it.  Let's find out what it is and be done with it.

Let me say that Sir Bentley has been acting normal.  Dorky, goofy, happy, waggy tail, eager to please, happy to see me, NOTHING out of the ordinary.

Today, I got the call at noon.

"Well, the good news is that it is not tumor cells.  Also good news, I now understand why Cephalexin would not kill the bacteria.  He has pseudomonas,betahyloticstrep,andmethicillinresistentstaph.

I purposefully did not separate those words for that's how it appeared in my thinking.  Run together.  Pseudomonas.  I knew that word.  My own father almost died having it twice.  Extremely interesting little bugger if not infecting one of my loved ones.

My vet was talking.  I could not remember what she said about calling Target's pharmacy to get the script in.  She said something about Pepcid for his stomach so that he'd eat with the medications which would likely make him sick.  There was something in there about him being in good hands (mine, I think) and something about calling her if I had any questions.

The sun was shining for once.  I was dazed, confused, stunned ... and scared as I sat on the little bench outside my job.

Did she say MRSI?  Isn't that methicillin resistant staph?  I wondered.

Google is great... even if the information I found made my heart sink, and my eyes water.

My Sir Bentley was very sick.  And here I was again... with a very sick dog, worried... how much time I have left with my beloved.

Of course, I called the vet back and left a message.  "I'm a little freaked out.  Can you call me when you're free?  Thank you!"

About 1/2 hour later, she called.  We talked.  She tried to calm me down.  She tried to give me hope.

"What's his prognosis?" I asked.  She knew to lay it on.

"At this point, very good, you just have to stay fastidious with the meds.  Ad2b, in your hands, he has a great chance of making it.  You understand how serious, you understand about not missing a dose, you know how to handle these things.  Have faith in yourself."

Another few questions to ease my overly worried mind:

Would the test results from a month ago have been enough to show any advanced stage of MRSI?

"Yes.  If the disease had advanced beyond his skin, the tests from April would have shown signs."

A little sigh of relief.

"How much time should elapse before I see some improvement in his paw?

"48 to 72 hours.  If you don't see any improvement, or marked improvement, call me back and we'll add another drug.  Ad2b, we have several options to treat him, we're just starting with the most conservative and working our way to the most expensive, hoping the ones I prescribed are enough."

A little more relief.

"So if the zpac doesn't work, we'll do something else?"

"Yes.  Vancomycin, gentomycin, and sporins, we have others.  Some you have to be very careful because they are harmful to humans so you have to wear gloves, another is IV only which is a pain but we'll go that route if we have to."

Okay, breathing now.  Watery eyes drying up.  She and I will help Bentley to better health.

We have to.

He's my heartmender.

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

61st Anniversary

Of my parents!  I have been traveling a lot lately from my home in the south to the old home in the north.  My project has been awesome - the people are kind and hard working, which is great because the weather has been beyond abysmal.

However, on the occasion of their 61st wedding anniversary, I took my parents out to dinner.

Anywhere they wanted.  All they had to do is name it.  Fancy?  Sure!  Really fancy?  Sure!

What they wanted?

Olive Garden.

Below is the picture of my 80+ year old parents, married 61 years.


Saturday, June 8, 2013

It's Been A Long, Long Time

And I finally decided that I never wrote here for the readers, although I did hope perhaps part of my posts might be helpful - back in the day - I wrote here for me.  Sort of as a journal of sorts of how the hell I got through the last 5 years.

Sometimes I read here and am slightly bemused that the physician whom I fell very, very hard for got me so very, very far onto the medical school path at such at late age. About that point when I think about him, I think about the really nice golf clubs he bought me "just because"... (yes, you can insert an "awww" here).  Damn he was good with the flowers, and the theater, and the... man, I did adore him.  (he's got a dating profile active on a site for wealthy men - oh, and he got married in 2010).

Eventually, I started dating someone else.  It took sometime for me to really like the new guy, but eventually did.  Love?  I suppose, but very differently.  More cerebral, more adventurous (insert skydiving), more outgoing.  Anyway, we'd gone golfing once.  Starting to put those clubs in my car, "just let me take them back to my house for you.  Safe keeping."

Those golf clubs ended up, of course, at a person I pseudonamed Sir Hawtsalot... which should probably be better repenned as Sir Cheatsalot but, whatever.

When I figured out his primary characteristics were charismatic, charming, cheat, liar, and thief, I bailed on him... he called me fickle.  For the record, fickle is someone who cheats... not someone who is trying to understand the big roaring red flags that wave and every woman I know, ignores.  Except me.  I just didn't want to believe them at first.

I mean he's on the board for a charity.  He has some really great connections (hee hee - think about that...).  And everyone I know, that doesn't date him, just thinks the world of him.  But... cheat he is.  And thief.

See, I'd dumped him and moved on.  Going so far as to block his phone calls at the vendor if he tried.  I deleted his email address (the corporate, and ones) and banned those at the provider as well.  I discarded my thoughts of him (mostly - thanks Olivia for talking me off the bridge once in awhile when I meandered on it).

I'd moved on.  Really well.  Kind of found a new individual, with charm, wit, and some common interests somewhat inspiring if not interesting.  Top that, I was in my final semester before MCAT.  I was seriously, done.  Red flags were listened to.

Until he figured out a means around my email block and wrote me saying he missed me and thought about me a lot.

Apparently, he'd read something I'd written and felt compelled to write.

From India.  While on a trade mission.

Dumb me responded with nothing until I went to Galapagos.  I sent him a postcard from the outpost almost parroting his email above.

Apparently, he forgot to mention his engagement.

The engagement he entered into 4 days before writing me the original email above.

Apparently, he also forgot to mention that he was keeping my golf clubs.

When he finally did feel the need to tell me he was getting married (6 months after meeting the woman), I wrote him back saying, "good luck and best wishes" adding that I deserved better than what I got from him (like not being led on or strung along or purposefully misguided by him), but that as someone (the "devil") once told me, I don't have to like it, I just have to accept.

The idiot wrote me again and offered to pay the concert tickets back as a donation to his MARITAL charity of choice.

Seriously.  Cheating dolt.

Where that brings me is this letter, now very viral on interwebs :D, that I wish I'd had the kohonas to write myself 2 years ago.  How much more fun would that have been???

(very, if you have to ask!)


(and yes, I think Taylor Swift and I could have a running friendship; boys be damned anyway!  :D)

Saturday, March 16, 2013

1st Day MCAT Prep


Back in fall 2010, I started physics 1 but ended up dropping the entire semester due to circumstances that were beyond my control; let's just say the after affect of telling a public company to restate their financials was just dwindling down the highlight of my career.  Coupled with familial issues, I dropped the semester.

I've never gone back to take the class.  The MCAT has an entire section devoted to physics (and gen chem).

Back then, my professor said I'd have an easy "A" if things hadn't gotten so out of control in my personal life.  He commented that I was teaching other students in my lab the right way to look at things and using analogies to make things more clear.  One of my lab cohorts was a pre-dental student, the other was pre-vet.  I'm sure they've been admitted by now...


I'm using Khan Academy to brush up on the physics that I don't quite understand, and Exam Krackers for the homework (and the 1001 series).  And tonight, Khan did for me what it always has:

it lightened my load and helped me understand.

Physics is not hard, I actually think I like it - all the math, all the manipulation of data.  Yep, I'm all in.

And, thanks to Khan, I even get the questions right!

(BTW, I don't have a problem with Newton's Law; I'm just using it as an example of what the learning is like watching these videos.  OH!  AND MIT has a similar series that they offer.  I'll keep you posted on what helps the most...)

Friday, March 15, 2013

My Cat Ate That

I don't own a cat.  My roomies and I back in the mid-80s had an adopted cat that our Iraqi roommate found while walking home one day.  And despite that we were not allowed to have cats or dogs, she ignored that and brought the kitten home anyway.

It was Duluth, MN.

It was beyond cold.

We named the kitten, "Fish."  That way when the RA's came and asked if we had a cat or dog, we could say that we had fish.  Oh.  And I had a fish tank to show them with pretty gourami in it.

I digress.

My MCAT is scheduled for April 27th and I am postponing it.  When I look at dates, I see June 20th (still in time for this app cycle),  I see July 2nd (still in time for app cycle) and then a bunch of dates that put me into next year's app cycle given I'm not a 4.0 and would be late in the gate for app review.

So, today while I was slightly bored, I thought about a schedule to get the requisite studying done for the test:

Sat - physics 4 hours, ochem 2
Sun - physics 2 hours, ochem 2
Mon - gen chem 1
Tues - off
Weds - gen chem 2
Thur - phys / ochem review 1 hour
Fri - off

Rinse/repeat for the following week, then change it up.  Biology to replace ochem (which is likely to be my best subject followed by gen chem); keeping physics every week (likely to be my worst), and add in verbal reasoning.

I'm still working full time and know that Tues night is my NCSI night (what's life without Mark Harmon??  OMG, now that I've found TV, I'm not giving up that!), and Friday night is my night with my son to do whatever (generally, movies and dinner).

While evaluating the schedule, I know that as time gets closer, I'll ramp up the hours but must admit, being that the exam is in summer, and I do live in sunny FL on the suncoast, jet skiing is on my brain.

My focus is not on the 10 hours each weekend day but heavy on weekends and review all week long.  That way whatever I cram in my brain on Sat/Sun, stays with me (remnants of ochem 1 so very long ago...)

Now, to get my MCAT changed... and buy a fish!

Saturday, March 9, 2013

Pretty Much

Madeleine Albright famously said, “There’s a special place in hell for women who do not help other women."

Over the past two months, by a younger woman with so much talent and equally classless, clueless, arrogant, egomaniacal behavior, I've been told:

1. My Big 4 public accounting background is worth bat guano, or even less than that because she worked for a "public" accounting firm (I use the "" because public does not equal Big 4; never has, never will, especially when that "public" accounting firm simply means CPAs are doing tax work for a corporation)

2. My background and career as: Director - Big 4, Vice President - $2B public company (you know, the ones you buy stock in either through a brokerage house or online - like ETrade, Scott, Ameritrade, etc) is worthless experience (yes, those words)

3. She knows. It. All. From dog pedigrees, to different types of organic molecules, to car engines, to roof top ornamental designs, to Big Mac v. double cheeseburger calories, to candy ingredients, and IUPAC naming (of course, she's wrong 99% of the time, but I digress)

4. She butts into conversations that have nothing to do with her, or the work, or the business, and are outside her privy of information (you know, like two people who are conversing say about internal audit, of which she again claims to know. it. all)

And top it off, she lies. A lot. About everything. And she manages a team of 6, all but one of whom, can't stand her but are hog tied to do anything about it.

Last week, she lied again. To make it worse, she threw me under the bus (again; and I defended myself, again).

And last night, this is the conversation that I heard her loudly talking on the phone:

Ego M: "So, why are you still at work?

Ego M: "Ah, you've got dick on the brain. Perhaps, it'd be better in your mouth or other areas" /snicker, "than on your brain. There's no pleasure there."

Ego M: "At the firm I used to work for, that public accounting firm? There was a man with a last name of Dic. He had a daughter who got license plates with 'LIL DIC' on them. Her boyfriend would drive the car only to be asked often if he indeed had a little dick, but they would laugh it off and say that is was, actually, rather huge." snicker snicker


In 2013 this kind of behavior is tolerated at one of the largest companies in the world?  Let alone anywhere? 

There IS a fine line between funny and classless and inappropriate. At work, this was definitely that latter two. Sadly, because this young woman is smart but insecure, narcissistic, she will never know what it feels like to do the right thing, and will never know what it means to live up to the quote by Madeline Albright. 

When will med school get here? Seriously, I know people like that are everywhere but I like to think in smaller doses in an industry where those kinds of conversations will happen in private, behind closed doors, where, it might have been funny... or not.

Friday, March 1, 2013


Mine.  Dad has fully recovered from his bout with ruptured spleen brought on by heart attack, not to mention his then battles with kidney failure and pseudomonas (I probably still spelled that wrong :D).  Dad's memory is a little weak and he forgets events; I worry, of course, but then I think about how often I can't remember what I did yesterday.  And I'm only 40-something!

Mom found a lump or a spot or something.  She goes in next week to get it biopsied.  At 80, I am thinking it is a fibroid or something more harmless.  Mom has taken good care of her health, always seeing the doc for whatever, making sure she does everything right - except for eating green, leafy veggies.  She hates asparagus too!

Me, I have a lump on my had.  Sounds like ganglion cyst.  I'm not too worried about it either.

And, I'm postponing my MCAT.  Scheduled for April 27, there is no way for me to take it and do how well I want.  I was worried that with my parents and their health, that I'd be too distracted and get too old to try this fall.

But, it's only another year.  I think I'll schedule it for September and work on the rest of my app package for 2014... when I should have been graduating from med school, not applying.


Oh, and moving to FL to escape the snow?  and cold?

Well, I believe I might be taking pictures of snow flakes on the palm trees early Sunday morning!  lol

Ecuador, here I come!

Thursday, February 14, 2013

Happy Valentine's Day!

As luck has it, I seem to find the most amazing people on this journey I call life.  Living in FL started off interestingly enough and then I met a woman I'm blessed to call my friend.

She too has seen some very difficult times but through it all she remained positive and happy.  Success in every way imaginable found her.  Eager to share that with her own children, she found that was not her path, nor God's plan for her apparently.

At some point over the past few years, she started thinking about adoption.  When first going to the foster homes, or settings, she was thinking ages from birth to 8.  Again, that was not God's plan for her.

This past November the plan unfolded.  The video below says everything that my wee words cannot.  

Enjoy!  Happy Valentine's Day!  And to TRD, you rock!!!

Thursday, February 7, 2013

Bachelor Sean (Yes, I'm "Going" There!)

A few years ago, I left the abode in a small, tree lined street in a tiny, humble (eccentric, you might say) village along the St. Croix River in Minnesota.  Moving into what became known not so affectionately as the cave, I also gave up DirecTV, Comcrap, Qwest and whatever other media was available.

Working 40 hours a week and taking gen chem, or ochem, or physics never allowed for much free time.  Happy as a bee in spring on newly sprung flowers, I was headed somewhere... wherever that might be.

Moving once again to a house in a different suburb and not so cave-ish, and not so insect riddled, cable got hooked up for the internet.  Cable.  You know, that flicker thing where one can sit on one's ash and watch mind-numbing TV?

Yeah.  That thing.  And my new sofa.  On a Monday night after an ochem exam.  I found Ashley.

Sure, I'd heard the water cooler discussions of who should be with whom but I had never watched really.  I think I saw something of Jake and whoever-she-was.  I could not believe people would whore themselves out like they did and so never got entangled into the show.

However, I did, for some reason, stay tuned for Ashley.  While her annoying crying with Bentley got under my skin (I DO have a Bentley of my own - big, goofy, great dane), the rest of her show was fun to watch.  JP was my pick from the get-go and the water buffalo dude had to go.  Really.  Uck.

Skipping WB season - and sort of semi-watching Emily and her sniffling, stuck-up-never-going-to-get-over-herself - I really liked Sean.  Just not with her.

Sean's season started (I'm not in school this semester; debating the MCAT thing; lots of time on my hand to watch shows like Castle, and NCIS (LOVE the Abby!), and Scandal)... and seriously, who are these chicks?  and honestly?  Can someone please tell me I did not act like them???

Des was my favorite from the outset until, she started to tell Sean what the problem with Tierrarist was and then instead, decided to clam up leaving him in a confuddled state; and then whined about the goat milk guzzling (although, truth be told, I get being pissed about guzzling that crap and then being told that the other losing team gets to come back), but what finally turned me away from her, though I think she still has the most spunk and energy and fun in her, is when she started to tell him about living in a tent while growing up.  Uck.  It's one thing to tell a man you've been dating for a few months that you had some interesting times in the past (I know I speak for myself there - anyone reading this blog already knows what I've been through) but Des and Sean hardly know each other... and homelessness is not for the feint of heart.

It's not the homelessness that is so bad, it's what homelessness does to the psyche.  I've seen it in the shelters where I've volunteered.  I've felt it when I too thought I "might" be homeless.  It changes a person.  The unknowing, the unsettledness... and there she was, laying it all out on him.

But what really got to me a few days ago is the damn ring on Catherine's finger.  The spoiler is already out on Reality Steve . com so you know, Catherine supposedly is the engaged fiance of Sean now... just not while they were in Canada.

If you look at the episode, it looks like she has a wedding ring next to her knuckle and an engagement ring on top of that in the appropriate position.  Having read Steve's column and having been told she "wins", I wa sort of stunned thinking that she already knew he proposed... but that would not make sense.... but then this is "Reality" TV where everything is "real", right?

Reaching out to Steve, he said that they were not engaged at that point.  Then he went onto say that the conspiracy theorists were out in full force.  Apparently, I was not alone in my observation but probably alone in that... I don't really care.  My own thought was the lousy editing team forgot to tell her to take it off before filming the one tiny sequence because it was definitely gone after the one shot.

Why would that be?  Because someone finally DID realize it was there?

Who cares.  I know if I were studying for that Most Capricious Acidic Theory, I would not have time to care about Sean, or Emily, or ... but then, it is fun to have mindless drivel to take up some time here and there.

Just like this blog :)

Make it a great day!

Friday, January 18, 2013


Little things.  A couple of chlorines off a carbon chain interlinked with a phosphate, little amide thrown in for good measure, and there you have it.  I'm hooked... back into biochem like a fly to a blinking yellow lantern hanging from the rooftop on a hot summer night.

Why does it work, I was asked?  While the person knew I was not a doctor, and have not even taken the MCAT yet (key word there), it hooked me in again.  My biochem prof often talked about Wiki becoming a better source of basic information.  He talked about a lot of things that I remember if pushed... even RNA transcription ... okay, if he reads here, he'll understand the joke.

I digress.

My brain slowly chugged into motion trying to remember all the biochem I learned last semester.  Something about certain pharmaceuticals mimic the chemical a disease or virus or bacteria needs to continue replication... "thing" thinks it is eating a good thing, or using the DNA from the good thing, and then 'WHAM' - too late.  It dies.

Or something about a compound attaching itself to the just right place to stop a reaction from occurring (non-competitive inhibitor is what blared in my head).  Yeah, that sounds like it might be the case as well.  If the reaction cannot continue because the shape of the molecule can't change with the non-competitive inhibitor taking up the space, 'WHAM' - game over for the disease or virus or bacteria.

WHAM, I was back in biochem again.  And phys.  Talking about the lumen in the intestines and why channels have to be working for nutrients to cross and explaining what I sort of remembered from my classes.  And why it is important to have the nutrients and elements in the body to assist with the transport across the lumen, and into the blood stream and... I was on fire.

And telling the person to make sure to ask their doctors for clarification; gently reminding them that I am not a doctor, not in med school, have no med school experience, and the best place to get the truth is from the treating physician; not from a former wee premed who might (or might not) be starting med school soon.

More questions came - will the cancer patient survive?

Anyone who knows me know I can talk (and will!!!).  With that question though, I paused to make sure whatever I said next was exactly right.  I could feel the person wanting/needing me to say, "Of course!"  What came out was not that.

"I don't know.  What I do know is that the only one who can, and should, give you a prognosis is the treating physician.  You are in excellent hands.  The cancer center here is nationally renown and you need to trust that they are doing everything they can to help your spouse beat this."

I know there was disappointment on the receiving end of that message but it was the damn truth.  It is not my place to conjecture, to conjure, to wonder, to talk through my thoughts when it comes to a life and a prognosis with statistics.

What I did do was look up the stats, and seeing the stats were pretty dang awesome, I sent the links to WebMD, Mayo, and NIH.  I also looked up YouTube videos for the medications and sent those as well.  Had the stats been mediocre or worse, I'd have "forgotten" all about it.

I do not know if that would be crossing the line for a premed or med student or non-treating physician.  What I do know is that my own story of my brother's similar diagnosis 12 years ago, his very lively living now, and my gentle suggestion to ask the physicians about Boost - raised the spouse's spirits.

And mine.  I love being able to take very technical information and decipher it into layman's terms; I love the hard sciences; I loved all my premed courses, including ochem.

Of course, having to churn out biochem again only started another issue within myself.

What in the hell do I do about my MCAT?!?!  And worse, applying.

These types of conversations stoke the passion, give me the drive; I'm sitting on the doorstep of app cycle 2013 and I just can't seem to take my foot over the line.

Anyone got a big boot??? :D

Make it a great weekend, be warm.


Sunday, January 6, 2013

For Don

I've been thinking about him a lot lately.  He was truly never far from my thoughts; guess that comes when his son is my son.  And every time my eyes water up, and every time they did for 7 years, he would sing this song to me.

Seems appropriate today.  Dust in the eye so to speak when the reality of it all sets in:

I can hear him saying to me some weeks ago, "Don't go getting all weepy eyed on me."

Okay, Don, I won't... :)