Washington It Is

So, I'd been mulling over the decision for schools: CA or WA? Well, after considerable thought, I decided on the school in Yakima, WA. For me, it's the better fit. The school in CA was very nice but I didn't get the same vibe that I did in Washington. So, the decision has been made, the die has been cast. Now, the logistical work of moving 2500 miles away begins to take shape.

Freedom

Today, I got the cast off. I'm amazed by how quickly my arm atrophied and by how much dead skin flaked off. Oh yeah, to make up for the lack of range of motion, I've got plenty of stiffness and soreness. Awesome.






Although the saw might not "cut" you, it does get hot enough to burn you when the blade touches your skin. I've got a nice cut-shaped burn on my forearm from where it sunk through the cast and into my flesh.

Spring

Sure, it's technically not until the 20th of the month but, after this past weekend, it feels like it's here. Winning Run and I were at the mountain house in the north Georgia mountains with her folks and grandmother.

When I'm there, I love to wake up early, sneak outside with a cup of coffee, and watch and listen to the Sautee Valley come to life for the day. It makes me happy.

Dew on a metal gate at sunrise.

Decisions, Decisions, Decisions

So, I just got word today that I've been accepted into the school in Vallejo. Now, I've got to really make a decision about where I'd like to be (and where Winning Run would like to be) and about the programs. For the most part, I'm still awed by the Yakima area and the Pacific Northwest. The Bay Area is pretty cool but, at the moment, is the distinct second-place finisher.

I guess that this is a pretty good dilemma to be facing: trying to choose between two schools that want me.

Anywho, more from the decision front as it unfolds.

My Final Admissions Interview

After returning from the slopes and spending two nights in my own bed, I headed out to the San Francisco area for my final med school admissions interview. This school is in the Vallejo area on a decommissioned naval shipyard. I chose it because the Bay area might be a little easier for Winning Run and me to maintain some sense of normalcy during school. (This is, of course, in contrast to being separated by at least a two-hour drive.)

After a lengthy delay, I finally arrived at SFO, grabbed my rental car, drove up to Vallejo, checked into the hotel, and passed out for the evening.

On the Bay Bridge heading toward Oakland.

The interview day was pretty routine, except for the fact that the interview was conducted by a panel of people in front of other applicants. Supposedly, this is to put you under stress to see if you can maintain your poise in front of your peers like you'd need to do on rounds at the hospital. Sounds like bullshit to me but, if that's the way they do it, so be it. It wasn't really all that bad. I mean, hell, I've had much tougher interactions in any job I've had or on any consulting gig on which I've worked.

When I heard the question "What do you think is harder: doing stand-up comedy or being a physician?" I nearly fell out of my chair. Are you freaking kidding me? The best thing you can come up with from my file is the stand-up comedy that I did in college nearly fifteen years ago? Nothing about fundraising thousands of dollars for cancer and brain tumor research? Nothing about caring for my dying grandfather in the hospital while my dad, who'd just been diagnosed with cancer, was recovering from surgery two floors below? Nothing about completing six marathons? Nothing about the inspiration drawn from my mother, the former emergency room nurse? Nothing about any of the other, more pertinent info in my file? I answered the questions but just couldn't believe that they'd focus almost exclusively on the stand-up thing.

To make matters worse, the person interviewing me vaguely reminded me of Professor Trelawney, Emma Thompson's character in the Harry Potter movies. The resemblance was uncanny enough that I had to really focus on concentrating on what she was saying.

"...neither can live while the other survives..."

Oh yeah, during the campus tour, we stopped into the cadaver lab and the student giving the tour actually showed us her cadaver. So, I got a free lunch and saw someone reach into the chest cavity of a human body and pull out the lungs and the heart. Sweet.

After the interview, I drove down to Santa Clara to visit with my buddy, Deep, and to catch up with C-Dub and his family in nearby Menlo Park. We ended up having dinner and a few beers at the Dutch Goose. A word to wise: avoid the spicy deviled eggs at the Goose; nothing good will come of them.

That night, I crashed at Deep's place. The next morning, I walked with him over to his office at Santa Clara University's Law School and hung out until he had to teach. After I strolled through campus, back to his place, grabbed the car and headed to the airport. One reason that I like California: fruit trees. At Deep's front door, there is this awesome lemon tree. In his back yard, an enormous avocado tree drops fruit all over. Just awesome.

Free lemons at the front door.

Tons of lemons on this tree.

Yep, another lemon.

So, I should know something next week about the school's decision. Personally, I still think that I'll be headed to WA because that school seems a better fit for me but having to choose between the two would certainly make things interesting. More news as I know it.

Ski Trip Revisited

After a few days of rest and rehab, I was able to get back out onto the mountain. The doctor told me that if I fell with the cast, it would "hurt like hell but I wouldn't do further damage." Armed with that knowledge, I approached the mountain like a frightened child. During the first few hours of being back on the slopes, I wiped out hard on a crunchy patch of snow. The doctor was right, it hurt really, really bad. In retrospect, this was just what I needed. After taking the spill and feeling the pain, I got back up on and tried it again. Within a couple of days, I was on black diamond runs and boarding with confidence. I managed to make it back to Blue Ox, the double diamond, one of my favorite runs at Vail. I tried to use a helmet cam to get footage of my final run down Blue Ox but, alas, due to user error and/or poor batteries, the camera didn't get it. Bummer.

Although Hot Rod and I were the only ones with lasting damage, it seems like most everyone on the trip took a spill or two. Here's a photo of Jazzy in the middle of a blink-and-you-miss-it tumble on Blue Ox. He was back up and cruising within a second. Even though it betrays his prowess on the slopes, this photo of him makes me laugh.

It looks much worse than it was.

Detailed view of the impact zone.

Can't wait to get back out there.

The Mountain Claims Another

Yesterday, expert skier "Hot Rod" tasted the mountain's wrath and lived to tell about it. On his way back to the condo, he fell victim to a heavily worn trail. While cruising quickly, he hit a gully carved out by people returning to the slope-side hotel. Seeing that he was being thrown toward a fixed obstacle, "Hot Rod" wisely sat down to minimize the impact. Unfortunately, he didn't get his first choice of trees but, instead, slammed into a stone wall. People came out to check on him but he waved them off, got back up despite the awful pain in his knee, and, without looking at his wound, continued back to the condo...another five minutes of skiing to a gondola and, then, a shuttle bus. On inspection at the condo, he noted a rip in the knee of his ski pants and a deep puncture wound on his knee.

Wisely, "Hot Rod" opted to visit Avon's urgent care facility where he learned that he'd sustained a very deep puncture wound that had ruptured his bursa sac. The docs sutured it up with three stitches, gave the kid some heavy duty antibiotics, and advised that he take at least a day off. So, maybe he'll be back on the mountain.

Hot Rod's wounded, swollen grapefruit of a knee.

Damn you, Beaver Creek and Vail, damn you and your wicked, snowy beauty.

Always Bet On Black

Got the cast put on today. Because I'll need to wear it for a few weeks, I opted for black: it goes with everything.

Getting ready for the cast.

The application of the Gore-Tex sleeve.

Putting on the fiberglass.

Adding the finishing touches.
Becoming indestructible.

Adding Insult to Injury

Yesterday, during another day of not being on the mountain, I built a fire. Once it got going well, I went to the restroom and returned to a smoky living room. In an attempt to clear the smoke, I opened the doors and went to check that the fireplace flue was open. Evidently, I was just in a hurry to sear the flesh on my fingertip...on the only functional hand that I have. Nice job, guy. Today, I might try to accidentally stab myself in the thigh or otherwise damage one of my remaining pristine extremities.

Things You Cannot Easily Do Without Your Dominant Hand

• Type
• Read a book
  
• Open a bottle of beer
• Put on / take off clothes
• Wipe after pooping
• Pull up pants and boxers after pooping
• Take a leak
• Tie shoes
• High five
• Throw anything
• Shower
• Scoop ice cream
• Eat
• Drive a car ... in the snow
• Get out your wallet
• Fight a snowbo (snowbo = hobo who camps near ski area)

Vail Exacts a Price in Blood

So, I'm here in Avon, CO for my annual snowboarding trip with the gang. We've returned to the scene of Winning Run's knee injury. Evidently, the mountains here have some blood feud with us because it has taken its vengeance out on me this time.

Yesterday, we went to Vail after spending some of Wednesday at Beaver Creek. The conditions were great: sunny, packed powder, not too crowded. We returned to one of our favorite runs, a double black diamond called Blue Ox. It's pretty steep in a few spots and thrilling to ski.

A view up Blue Ox.

Anywho, near the end of the day, we decided to head to Vail's enormous back bowls for a few runs before the lifts closed. In what would prove to be a regrettable choice, we hit Marmot Valley, a black diamond mogul run. During the run, I caught my board's heel edge on a mogul and fell ass-over-tea kettle backwards. I heard a crunch like someone snapping a celery stalk and immediately felt searing pain in my right wrist.

I should avoid these in the future.

A moment later, Rodney skied up and asked if I was okay.

"Nope," I said. "I just broke my f*ing wrist."

After trying (and failing) to board out, I took off my board and climbed down the hill to the lift. I uncinched my gloves and wrist guards to have a look. Sure enough, the wrist was swelling in a pretty little lump above my thumb.

"Damn it. Maybe it's just sprained," I remarked to Rodney and Jeff.

"Maybe," they said.

Because we were on the back side of the mountain, we had to take a lift out. Then, I tracked down the ski patrol for a snowmobile ride to the gondola which took me to the base. From there, I hopped a shuttle back to our car to meet up with the gang and make the 20 minute drive back to Avon and the urgent care facility.

I was quickly seen and x-rayed. The doctor showed me the ray and pointed out the minuscule fracture. He told me that if I weren't doing snow sports, he'd send me home with a removable splint that I'd wear until I could do push-ups without pain. Because I was on a snowboard trip, however, they'd splint my arm for a few days until the swelling went down. Then, if I wanted, I could come back in to get a cast put on so that I could get back on the mountain and snowboard. Prior to leaving, I could come back in to get it cut off and replaced with a removable splint.

"Is that something you'd like to do?," the doctor asked.

"Absolutely," I told him with a huge smile. "I didn't come out here to sit around."

"Very good," he said. "We'll get you fixed up and see you on Sunday for the cast."

"Sweet. Thanks very much," I beamed.

Out-of commission for 72 hours until I get my cast.

So, now I need to figure out what color cast to get put on. I'm thinking hot pink.

For the record, I think that this was a freak sort of accident in which I fell in exactly the right way to do damage. Without the wrist guards that I always wear, I might be looking at a pretty serious break with no chance to get back out there.

Another Awesome Day at the YMCA

Once more, a simple workout at the local Y has made me question the mental capacity of my fellow members. Like many other gyms, the cardio equipement (ellipticals, bikes, treadmills) have televisions for you to watch either cable television or a DVD of your choice. Today, I'm on the treadmill and notice that the woman next to me is futzing with the DVD player. People bringing their own media to watch is certainly an exception. Typically, most folks listen to their iPod or watch TV. So, I think little of it until I finish my run and am cooling down. At that point, I notice that she's watching something with a doctor giving a woman a pelvic exam. Yep, right there on the treadmill, you see a woman in profile on the bed, naked from the waist down. If pubic hair is visible for a few minutes of your movie, should you really be watching it on a treadmill in a crowded gym, specifically the YMCA? Methinks not.

Shit, tomorrow, I'm definitely wearing my thong and watching some 70s porn during my workout. Evidently, anything goes.

You Can't Win If You Don't Play

After a discussion about how much medical school will cost, Winning Run offered the following idea:

"I'll quit getting a coffee every morning if you'll use that money to buy a lottery ticket every week."

Not sure it's the best fiscal plan but it can't hurt, right?

Pouring Iron

Over the weekend, some friends invited me to tag along with them to a pub to watch an "iron pouring." In the Castleberry Hill neighborhood on the west side of downtown Atlanta, the Elliot Street Pub is home to a recurring iron casting event where you can gather 'round, have a few beers, and watch some guys melt iron and cast it into molds. For a small fee, you can create your own mold and take home an iron plate bearing your design. It was a pretty cool way to spend an evening. I highly recommend it to break up any monotony of experience.

Safety first: one of the pub owners (Mike or Pete?) keeps watch

Heating up the ladle to receive the molten iron

The iron is almost hot enough to flow

Collecting the iron in the ladle

Casting the iron into the molds

All in all, it was a fun way to spend a Friday night.

Today, I, Too, Have Made History

To the best of my knowledge, I'll be the first person in my family to attend medical school.

A few moments ago, I got the call from Yakima offering me a seat in their incoming class.



I wish my Grandaddy, Bamba, and Papa were here; they'd be thrilled.

A New Day

Promise. Hope. Intelligence. Oratory skills.

So Long, W

I've been waiting for this day since 20 January 2001.

I won't miss you. I won't write.

Heckuva job, Dubya.

The Palm Springs of Washington

After the interview, I returned to the hotel and mostly stared blankly at a television for a few hours. Honestly, it was bliss. I always underestimate exactly how taxing an interview day can be. Winning Run and I went for a short walk on the Greenway, a bike and running path that follows the Yakima River. When I felt thoroughly frozen which took only about ten minutes, we returned to the hotel. On the walk back, we saw a couple of bald eagles flying over the river. After a couple of beers and a light dinner, we managed to fight the urge to sleep long enough to nerd-out and watch the season premier of Battlestar Galactica. As soon as the credits rolled, however, the lights were off and we were snoring.

Saturday
Saturday, we got up and began our day of adventure. To combat the cold, we stopped at one of the ubiquitous drive-through espresso shacks for hot coffee. Seriously, what the hell is it with the Pacific Northwest and coffee? I thought it was an exaggeration but these damned things were everywhere. Best part was, their coffee was excellent.

Brewlesque Espresso
(Note the dancers painted on the shack.)

Mocha House Espresso
(Looks like they couldn't fully commit to the gray paint.)

Coffee Cravings, a Winning Run favorite

Armed with delicious, hot coffee, we set out on a driving tour of the Yakima area to get a feel of what it's like because, frankly, being holed up at a cheap hotel near the interstate doesn't really offer an honest picture of a place. So, for a while, we drove around, looked at things, and tried to get lost. The fog started to lift during the morning, giving us the ability to see some of the surrounding mountains and orchards -- and a bald eagle. We made a point to drive through some of the agricultural areas on the outskirts of town: open range for livestock, apple orchards, vineyards, and hops farms. (My beloved hops! I imagine that in the summer, the wind carries the scent of a double IPA; the notion made me thirsty.)

Trees coated in frozen fog.

After concluding our driving tour of Yakima, we decided to broaden our area. We headed south to visit a winery for a little tasting. Along the way, we managed to get in a stop at a tiny little tourist attraction: The Teapot Gas Station.

The Teapot Gas Station.

After the abbreviated wine tour, we decided to fit in a little more adventure before retiring for the day. We aimed to get to Natches and see a little wildlife before the sun set on us. Since the 1950s, the government has been feeding a herd of elk in an effort to minimize conflicts between landowners and the animals. On the way in, we spotted about 30 elk on a plateau above the highway. We stopped the car to shoot a few photos.

Elk grazing near the highway.

Satisfied with our elk sighting, we headed toward the visitor center. Man, I felt a little foolish when we pulled into the parking lot and looked into the valley in front of us to see hundreds and hundreds of elk. It was Marty Stouffer's wet dream. Not only were elk everywhere but several bald eagles were lurking nearby.

One of many, many elk at the government feeding site.

With the sun and temperature quickly dropping, we jumped in the car and headed back to town.

Sunday
This morning was, perhaps, the largest snafu of the trip. Our flight from Yakima to Seattle was canceled which, in turn, caused us to miss all of our other connecting flights. So, shortly after the cancellation, we managed to get rebooked on a later flight from Yakima and on the redeye from Seattle. As the Yakima airport is "Wings" tiny, we asked the desk agent, Beth, if there was anyplace to get a bite to eat and kill the 3 hours before our flight. She mentioned that there were a few restaurants nearby and that she'd be happy to give us a ride to one of them when her shift was over in about fifteen minutes. Floored by how friendly she was, we accepted.

Sure enough, fifteen minutes later, Beth from L.A. picked us up and drove us to Miner's, an old hamburger joint, and dropped us off with well wishes for safe travels. Holy crap, the food was great: just a good old hamburger and milkshake (chocolate and fresh banana). Kudos to Rose, who'd worked there since 1970, for helping us navigate the menu and make the best choices.

Winning Run enjoying a shake.

After the gluttony, we killed some time in a bookstore and grabbed a taxi back to the airport to hop our puddle-jumper to Seattle for a seven hour layover. We'd considered heading into Seattle for a quick visit to Pike Place Market but, as we didn't have boarding passes for our flight, we decided to have a few beer and watch the Steelers/Ravens game. After an eternity, we finally got on the flight at 11:00pm PST and began our journey home. Today has been a little rough.

What's Next?
I'm supposed to get a call from the school on the 20th to notify me of their decision. Personally, I think that the interview went really well. Unfortunately, however, I've stopped trusting my feeling on these things. About 70% of the class is to come from the Pacific Northwest, the rest would need to show some great interest in the area that is convincing enough that they'll gamble on you to stay and practice there. More as it unfolds.

Yakima

Holy crap. The people out here are awesome.

The interview experience was the complete antithesis of the trip down to Florida. Not only was it well-organized but everyone was friendly and genuinely enthusiastic about the program. Students stopped by all day long to meet us and chat. They weren't after a free lunch but just wanted to spread the gospel about their program. Really, the positive energy from the place was great.

The interview itself was smooth. I spoke with two people for about 45 minutes, answering their questions and chatting with them. After, we had a quick lunch and toured the brand-spanking-new facility. Pretty damned cool. Then, I hung around and spoke with many of the other applicants as they waited to have their interviews. The spirit of camaraderie and politeness that I experienced was unbelievable. Hell, I thought I was getting Punk'd or something. Really, where where all the kids jockeying for position in the pissing contest? They weren't here, that's for sure.

Anywho, I'm pretty emotionally spent. I'll know their decision on me in the next couple of days. Yippee. Tomorrow, we go out to explore the area. Photos to follow.

I Thought He Was Kidding

Our voyage to Yakima took place in three legs yesterday: Atlanta to Minneapolis, Minneapolis to Seattle, Seattle to Yakima. Our travel time took over twelve hours including layovers but, thanks to Skymiles, the flights only cost us $35 each. Yippee!

When landing in Minneapolis, the pilot announced that it was "20 below" outside. Naturally, this announcement was met by laughter by most everyone on the plane. When I stepped onto the jetway, I suddenly knew that the bastard was telling the truth. Seriously, 20 below? C'mon.

Anywho. We finally made it to the hotel. More on the trip later; at the moment, I'm doing some final prep for the interview.