T/F

One can go crazy from excessive studying.

Death by study

I have picked the date for my boards and am aiming towards taking them mid november. I am now rethinking the date and trying to figure a better one a month later.

Throughout this process I think I might be going crazy.

Since I study so much, navy has told me I have "nuke syndrome." Apparently all the "nukes" (nuclear engineer's) on the ship are uber smart. In fact they're so smart they don't get normal concepts. In navy talk he basically just called me a ditz. I can spit out the fact that the mentally challenged girl I saw at a national park has angelmann's syndrome, but ask me what time it is and I stare at the clock for a good 1-2 minutes before I can figure it out.

I have also been dealing with self esteem issues. My test grades aren't up to par, and I'm being self critical. This must also mean in my fragile little mind that navy doesn't love me anymore and that he's now attracted to the hot blonde on his softball team.

Yes, I'm admitting I was jealous... this is a once in a lifetime occurance.

It didn't help that Navy has been upset with me due to my study schedule. He isn't allowed to see me except for sunday's, and phone conversations are only permitted after 8pm (the phone is of until then). Therefore he's been acting strange, which aided in my quickly escalating jealousy.

However, I did speak to him about my issues (goo me! Verbalizing! I'm so proud of myself), to which he basically laughed at me and told me he would never and has never cheated - after which he expressed his frustration with my schedule and his life in general.

Other than that, my life is boring. I study, do questions, and (for the last week) obsess over small minute details.

updates:
- never talked to CPE - he e mailed an update on his life, i told him nothing about mine
- wrote the weird guy back and told him his advances were not wanted nor appreciated. He hasn't written me since, which has made me very happy.

I will probably blog more now that I am always trying to procrastinate - but it will probably be all about my boards. :/ ugh

I will never be nice to anyone again.

I am known for showing my... dislike of people (usually skeezy men) when I don't know them.

I have now learned this is for a very good reason.

I have learned of yet ANOTHER weirdo, who is/was/has always been in love with me.

ugh - shoot me.

My first semester in basics there was a kid that hung out with people I knew from back home that I thought was weird. Apparently I wasn't too nice to him. After being yelled at a couple semesters about what a bitch I was towards him, I was nicer to him 4th semester before I left.

*side note* this kid WAS in my class, but failed a million times, and I think he's just now finishing 3rd semester - i'm in my 6th.

Recently he send me an e mail - not to bore you with details, it was odd... yet I always thought he was odd - and I wrote him back asking how basics was. The letter he replied back to that was... interesting - and basically said "lets stop punishing each other and be with one another now."

I forwarded the e mail to the friend who yelled at me for being so rude to him.

This brings her to tell me a story which involves him being in love with me since first semester, and blaming me for his failures because he couldn't get me out of my head. She had apparently heard it the night before from our other friend who just finished basics - who he confided in.

I AM HAVING FLASHBACKS OF FREAKY MED AND HIS VALENTINES DAY FIASCO FIRST SEMESTER!!! WHAT THE HELL!? FREAKS ARE DRAWN TO ME!

on another note:

CPE has also started calling again - he and his girl must be having problems. Navy finally had enough and called his number back. CPE hung up on him - i guess he was at a bar.

navy being possessive is hot.... grrowl.

Is it odd that I'm worried about CPE and want to make sure he's ok? He's like a sick puppy... I'd talk to him if I didn't think it would fuck him up more than he is.

Still Alive

The blog hasn't died, but I just might :/.

Studying for my boards right now - should be taking them soon.

Wish me luck!!!

What do you want to be?

The topic of conversation has been coming up concerning what direction I should take my career. Most people point out the money. "You should do this because you'll get paid tons," or "This field makes loads of money," yadda yadda yadda. I've kept my mouth surprisingly shut though most of the time I want to scream: I AM NOT DOING THIS FOR THE MONEY!

I can honestly say I would be happy if I had enough to get by. It seems like money is more of an issue for my friends and family than it is for me. The guy I marry needs to have money, because I'll be making money and heaven forbid I make more than him. The car I drive needs to be expensive because people look at that and it means something. Where I live must be expensive and upscale because yet again, heaven forbid I live somewhere modest.

I will admit, later in life when I have children I don't want them to grow up in the ghetto. I want them to grow up comfortably, yet understand the value of money. I want them to grow in a safe environment where doors can be left unlocked, and neighbors are trusted to watch them or have them over for cookies and milk without seducing them. I understand this all takes money of some sort - to take them out of the filth society has built for itself... but why oh why must it always come down to that?

Why can't I move to rural pennsylvania, in a small town where property is cheap by the acres? Why can't I move to a random beachfront property in texas or florida - where no one really goes to, and is shielded from the corruption of bigger, badder, more expensive locations? Why can't I just go somewhere, live comfortably, and have a normal life without worrying about money?

I want to help those who can't help themselves. I want to go places where people aren't able to get the attention those here in the state take for granted. I want to give people things they sometimes need, not wait hand on foot on those who just want.


I want to make a difference.

I will make a difference.

And the money... may never be enjoyed if I'm only going to use it for the benefit of those I love, or those who need it more than I do.

Go away.

Don't you hate those people that turn every situation into something that revolves around them? You tell them a story about something that happened in your day, and they feel compelled to not only NOT comment on your interaction, but try to TOP it with a story of their own, ending in how great they are?

That's why I think I like my blog so much, i can make it all about myself, and not really care about anyone else's take on it.

Sometime, however well intentioned you might be, you find weirdo's on the internet that tend to think that just because they read your most intimate thoughts, that they somehow KNOW you. They form some sort of weird attachment and relate it to caring about you.

These are the type of people that scare me. (I also throw those that tell me their full medical history within 2 minutes of finding out I'm in medicine into this category.)

The reason I have this blog is because a reader of the old blog crossed the line. Their comments only reflected how self absorbed they were, and their "my story beats yours" attitude took the tranquility of my blog away from me. So I left the old blog cold turkey, started a new one, and LOW AND BEHOLD, it looks like I have a little internet stalker peering over my shoulder and reading things about my life again. (thank you site meter)

How this person found me, i don't know. All I know is that it's scary, that I don't want anything to do with them. They've begun to haunt blogs I use to read, send me nasty little e mails, and for the life of me I don't understand WHY THEY DON'T JUST GO AWAY.

Anyway, if I end up dead in a gutter and this blog goes dead again, you'll know why. They're just as bad as CP - and i think that even he's given up.

PSA

I guess this post has been a long time coming. I'm so good at dealing with everyone else's problems rather than mine... I am the queen of denial. If I don't talk, see, deal with it - it's not happening right? But if my best friend's father she hate's dies... I'm there for her, if the grandmother she rarely spoke to dies, I'm there for her... if her best friend growing up's father dies... I'm there for her. But somehow - things always hit home and you see things much differently.

PSA is the antigen used in screening for prostate hyperplasia or carcinoma. In normal talk when someone's PSA is elevated that means either the person just has a big prostate (that should be carefully watched) or cancer. Anything more than 4 means an enlarged prostate with a chance of carcinoma, anything above 10 has a 50% chance of being cancer.

My grandmother has been very sick for some time. She's been in and out of the hospital, and even had a scary trip to the ICU while I was in basics. My grandfather has retired and where he use to have her waiting on him (she was sooooooo cute the way she'd plan out his day, have food waiting for him, doing his laundry) he is now running the house.

They had/have the perfect marriage, perfectly happy in their roles. She stayed home, cooked, cleaned, never even had a drivers license, he took care of everything outside of that. He has never once complained the role reversal, of her being sick, of having to dress her, has learned to cook (after watching her for 60 some years) and listens to her nagging while he fumbles to organize the millions of pills he has to give her for her heart.

We have never questioned whether he could survive without her. I dreading her death have distanced myself. Writing about this, and even thinking it usually brings upon tears (which is no bueno in the library while I'm studying for boards... but procrastination is a bitch) which I push away by what? not thinking about it. But about a month ago I had a nightmare while spending the night at navy's house:

Navy: "WAKE UP!"
Me: *grumble* "whaaaaatrudoing"
Navy: "You're crying"
Me: *snuggle*
Navy: "You ok?"
Me: *groggy* "Grampather..."

I don't remember this interaction. He told me about it when he e mailed me from work the next day, I do however remember the dream:

Some man (who was not my real grandfather) told me and my cousins (who were not my real cousins) he was going to die. I started bawling as he started giving valuables to my cousins, in turn not giving me anything. He looked at me and told me I already had my present and pointed to a old watch on my arm - at which point I think navy woke me up.

(I keep having to pause because I'm crying so if this blog doesn't have it's normal fluidity I'm sorry)

The next morning I get a message from my mother: "Call me ASAP"

I call her back during a study break and tell her about my dream. She sits there quietly and tells me my grandfather has prostate cancer, and that he's gifting me with his restaurant. Then she proceeds to ask me everything I know about it. I ask the usual questions trying to figure out it's severity and kick in doctor mode. I made her think it wasn't as bad as it was presenting her with the facts. He's over 80, if it hasn't metastasized it's not that bad, blah blah. Then I hung up the phone, and cried.

I cried all day, and then I stopped - and never thought about it again.

Except for the weekend when we went to tell him at his house.

I was FUMING. HOW DARE THE DOCTOR BREACH CONFIDENTIALITY AND EXPECT HIS FAMILY TO TELL HIM. The doctor had told my aunt, who told my father she wasn't going to tell him, to which my father turned around and told my grandfather. I went with the family that weekend and ate the lunch my grandfather had prepared under my grandmothers watchful eye. But I honestly couldn't take it and made an excuse about having to get back to studying and left. My father told him shortly after, he described the scene to me as this:

I went to the kitchen while we were cleaning up and told him softly. He just nodded his head and told me not to tell your grandmother.

This of course had me in tears again because of how brave he was trying to be, he was scared if my grandmother knew she'd give up. If he died she would be sure to die.

BTW, I NEVER cry, unless I'm angry... :)

I grew up with a very close family. I love my parents (yes, even my overbearing mother) and I love my grandparents (I call them mom and dad). They have and will always be the closest things to me. To lose someone that close scares the shit out of me. Due to his age and etc, apparently his treatment isn't too bad - but I don't trust anything the family says until I can see his medical records and figure out the grade of the cancer and etc.

He's given me access to his medical records but... I just can't bring myself to sort through it. I keep using my boards as an excuse. I have too much stuff to review, too little hours in a day, I need to meet so and so, fix something, anything so that I don't have to sit down and figure things out.

Regardless, this is my post to myself telling myself my grandfather has cancer, that he is strong, that he willl fight through it, and no matter what weird dreams say he will not die anytime soon, and that everything will be ok.