<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0' gd:etag='W/&quot;DUQGR3cyfyp7ImA9WhVaGUo.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-557657457146237707</id><updated>2012-06-17T16:55:26.997-07:00</updated><title>Surviving Medical School and Motherhood</title><subtitle type='html'>A blog about my hectic life as a soon-to-be doctor and a new mom.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default?redirect=false&amp;v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2'/><author><name>MedStudentMommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12188364310947763785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b1CpG2qQ9KY/TcNIIdHT4WI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DeEnX04cgqs/s220/DSCN1218.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>75</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;A0QDRnc6eSp7ImA9WhVUE0g.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-557657457146237707.post-898073854463386710</id><published>2012-05-18T09:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2012-05-18T09:42:57.911-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2012-05-18T09:42:57.911-07:00</app:edited><title>The Day Before I Become a Doctor</title><content type='html'>You may think that even though I've finished all my required credits, fulfilled all my hours of rotations, passed my boards, and signed a sweet residency contract that I'm pretty much already considered a "doctor". Well, not quite. Tomorrow's my graduation day and as far as I'm concerned, I won't officially be Dr. Boylan until I walk across that stage.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CVEkSNar4bs/T7Z7TWh9LWI/AAAAAAAAAXI/aqKK48n-Tk8/s1600/401590_600468429887_59600500_32181384_177785206_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CVEkSNar4bs/T7Z7TWh9LWI/AAAAAAAAAXI/aqKK48n-Tk8/s400/401590_600468429887_59600500_32181384_177785206_n.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
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It has been a whirlwind of a week, coming back up to campus for all the graduation week events. Dinners with the class, meetings with the Dean, a big fat envelope from financial aid telling me I basically owe a gazillion dollars..... And finally my family will all be arriving this evening. I am overwhelmed with emotion and excitement. Even just sitting in Panera right now writing this post, I'm looking around thinking, "Here I am just an ordinary woman, but in 24 hours I'll be a doctor."&lt;/div&gt;
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Anyways, I have lots to go do (like enjoy this gorgeous weather we're having up in Maine). I just want to thank all my friends and family in advance who are taking time out of their busy schedules to come celebrate this exciting event with me. I love you guys!&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hSERehTqRDQ/T7Z7xnEqZWI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/a96KeTA3FBw/s1600/545877_600646947137_59600500_32182277_320940062_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hSERehTqRDQ/T7Z7xnEqZWI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/a96KeTA3FBw/s400/545877_600646947137_59600500_32182277_320940062_n.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;My last time on campus as a medical student.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/557657457146237707-898073854463386710?l=medstudentmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/898073854463386710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2012/05/day-before-i-become-doctor.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/898073854463386710?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/898073854463386710?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2012/05/day-before-i-become-doctor.html' title='The Day Before I Become a Doctor'/><author><name>MedStudentMommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12188364310947763785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b1CpG2qQ9KY/TcNIIdHT4WI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DeEnX04cgqs/s220/DSCN1218.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CVEkSNar4bs/T7Z7TWh9LWI/AAAAAAAAAXI/aqKK48n-Tk8/s72-c/401590_600468429887_59600500_32181384_177785206_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;C0INQHw4cSp7ImA9WhVUEUU.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-557657457146237707.post-8503286900711741302</id><published>2012-05-16T08:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-05-16T08:19:51.239-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2012-05-16T08:19:51.239-07:00</app:edited><title>Wordless Wednesday: Five Years of Becoming a Doctor</title><content type='html'>So I'm packing to head up to school for graduation week. With all this nostalgia floating around my head, I thought what better than to just post some of my favorite pics from throughout my five years of medical school. Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rp4P923iGM8/T7O_uWF-X0I/AAAAAAAAAU0/LblcZzeeneI/s1600/128_504147867067_59600500_30405774_4318_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rp4P923iGM8/T7O_uWF-X0I/AAAAAAAAAU0/LblcZzeeneI/s400/128_504147867067_59600500_30405774_4318_n.jpg" width="391" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Happy as a clam at my white coat ceremony first year!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TGcxhJrdFwQ/T7O_vqCdx1I/AAAAAAAAAU8/JujKir43p2k/s1600/128_504147877047_59600500_30405776_4903_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TGcxhJrdFwQ/T7O_vqCdx1I/AAAAAAAAAU8/JujKir43p2k/s400/128_504147877047_59600500_30405776_4903_n.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;My proud family. Little did they know how rough the next five years would be!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nooUn2cPswo/T7O_twIFPvI/AAAAAAAAAUs/lRdmbhtx868/s1600/127_504174518657_59600500_30410906_9805_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nooUn2cPswo/T7O_twIFPvI/AAAAAAAAAUs/lRdmbhtx868/s400/127_504174518657_59600500_30410906_9805_n.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Making Strides Against Breast Cancer walk 2007&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bPDOJ3vBrlI/T7O_wVcH0kI/AAAAAAAAAVE/OUSgH_-SOFY/s1600/151_504308550057_59600500_30436654_8074_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bPDOJ3vBrlI/T7O_wVcH0kI/AAAAAAAAAVE/OUSgH_-SOFY/s400/151_504308550057_59600500_30436654_8074_n.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;AMA conference in Hawaii 2007&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-h1jTwtIQ3-k/T7PBvWpjhXI/AAAAAAAAAWs/GgiFg-dtaJ0/s1600/2806_515139794157_59600500_30842421_1178586_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-h1jTwtIQ3-k/T7PBvWpjhXI/AAAAAAAAAWs/GgiFg-dtaJ0/s400/2806_515139794157_59600500_30842421_1178586_n.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Medical Spelling Bee!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_iR43k0KsmQ/T7O_2aSx5fI/AAAAAAAAAWU/CLx1xR42UuY/s1600/2806_515139779187_59600500_30842418_6375397_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_iR43k0KsmQ/T7O_2aSx5fI/AAAAAAAAAWU/CLx1xR42UuY/s400/2806_515139779187_59600500_30842418_6375397_n.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Me and the bestie at the Spelling Bee!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nbjcuC3KrJg/T7O_xFP-T8I/AAAAAAAAAVQ/o4UVUEDyzV8/s1600/2563_534124642972_20102686_32573449_2112465_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nbjcuC3KrJg/T7O_xFP-T8I/AAAAAAAAAVQ/o4UVUEDyzV8/s400/2563_534124642972_20102686_32573449_2112465_n.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Winners of Osteostache 2009&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-k_gGftCOWEo/T7O_xigp_aI/AAAAAAAAAVY/UXdDYoBxHwc/s1600/2583_66946211795_745976795_2316793_3955510_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-k_gGftCOWEo/T7O_xigp_aI/AAAAAAAAAVY/UXdDYoBxHwc/s400/2583_66946211795_745976795_2316793_3955510_n.jpg" width="300" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Me and Ken after I did his hair for Osteostache!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rScgIK2GTFk/T7O_zUjI9pI/AAAAAAAAAVs/WuGaghNIo-Q/s1600/2583_66946261795_745976795_2316801_5768163_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rScgIK2GTFk/T7O_zUjI9pI/AAAAAAAAAVs/WuGaghNIo-Q/s400/2583_66946261795_745976795_2316801_5768163_n.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Judging the Osteostache competition and showing off the prizes!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oEdofbYitKI/T7O_07XlMXI/AAAAAAAAAV4/7hHSQFlY0N8/s1600/2806_515090827287_59600500_30839654_1363540_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oEdofbYitKI/T7O_07XlMXI/AAAAAAAAAV4/7hHSQFlY0N8/s400/2806_515090827287_59600500_30839654_1363540_n.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Portland Seadogs game spring 2009!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DvESNZ_AGGU/T7O_1WjvGbI/AAAAAAAAAWI/8JD2oq1_6XM/s1600/2806_515139689367_59600500_30842411_6554205_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DvESNZ_AGGU/T7O_1WjvGbI/AAAAAAAAAWI/8JD2oq1_6XM/s400/2806_515139689367_59600500_30842411_6554205_n.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Bacteriology review. I was Mycoplasma.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6cCUgQqSAj4/T7O_1MJpydI/AAAAAAAAAWA/RjX2meqylZM/s1600/2806_515139684377_59600500_30842410_1314599_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6cCUgQqSAj4/T7O_1MJpydI/AAAAAAAAAWA/RjX2meqylZM/s400/2806_515139684377_59600500_30842410_1314599_n.jpg" width="300" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Mycoplasma Pneumonia&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xBHgLwEjGm8/T7O_w9pA2iI/AAAAAAAAAVI/iCcVsypkmKg/s1600/1975_63290136795_745976795_2235636_4047_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xBHgLwEjGm8/T7O_w9pA2iI/AAAAAAAAAVI/iCcVsypkmKg/s400/1975_63290136795_745976795_2235636_4047_n.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Got our numbers for "the lottery"... to find out where we go third year.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SfGVoRnyd_Q/T7O_-r_9PYI/AAAAAAAAAWk/If2OKddNad4/s1600/7429_538959783271_16001231_32162240_4493890_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SfGVoRnyd_Q/T7O_-r_9PYI/AAAAAAAAAWk/If2OKddNad4/s400/7429_538959783271_16001231_32162240_4493890_n.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Two of my favorite med school pals at my wedding summer after second year.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dM-yd5OMMdE/T7O_-XxElXI/AAAAAAAAAWc/Z7ncO3nTSd4/s1600/46163_529825558767_59600500_31479088_248771_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dM-yd5OMMdE/T7O_-XxElXI/AAAAAAAAAWc/Z7ncO3nTSd4/s400/46163_529825558767_59600500_31479088_248771_n.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;The wonderful third year crew at Lakes Region Hospital.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ztI4vGLhQk4/T7PEhiFNgBI/AAAAAAAAAW4/KVPe9UHhCO8/s1600/IMG_1637.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ztI4vGLhQk4/T7PEhiFNgBI/AAAAAAAAAW4/KVPe9UHhCO8/s400/IMG_1637.jpg" width="300" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Last but not least, my last day as a medical student!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Graduation pics to come :)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
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&lt;div&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/557657457146237707-8503286900711741302?l=medstudentmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/8503286900711741302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2012/05/wordless-wednesday-five-years-of.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/8503286900711741302?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/8503286900711741302?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2012/05/wordless-wednesday-five-years-of.html' title='Wordless Wednesday: Five Years of Becoming a Doctor'/><author><name>MedStudentMommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12188364310947763785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b1CpG2qQ9KY/TcNIIdHT4WI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DeEnX04cgqs/s220/DSCN1218.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rp4P923iGM8/T7O_uWF-X0I/AAAAAAAAAU0/LblcZzeeneI/s72-c/128_504147867067_59600500_30405774_4318_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;CEMBQ3szcCp7ImA9WhVVGUg.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-557657457146237707.post-3035375830698089963</id><published>2012-05-13T16:40:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2012-05-13T16:40:52.588-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2012-05-13T16:40:52.588-07:00</app:edited><title>Mom's the Word!</title><content type='html'>I woke up this morning to the voice of my little boy saying "Ma! Ma!" as him and my husband were plotting to come wake me up with a cup of coffee, flowers made of tissue paper, and red velvet cupcakes spelling out "Happy Mother's Day". It was just what I needed! It'll be my second year as a mom, and even though in some ways it's gotten a lot tougher (battling a soon-to-be two year old), it certainly keeps getting better. Especially when you get to have coffee and a cupcake for breakfast just because you're a mom!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mNngI2htyy8/T7BDkLFMzxI/AAAAAAAAAUY/oQBC54Mupbs/s1600/40205_529174224047_59600500_31450999_2666828_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mNngI2htyy8/T7BDkLFMzxI/AAAAAAAAAUY/oQBC54Mupbs/s320/40205_529174224047_59600500_31450999_2666828_n.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Me with Killian at 1 month old.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
I was looking back through my photos of when Killian was first born. And even though it really wasn't that long ago, I feel like so much has happened in the past 22 months that it's hard to remember what it was like when he was first born. Of course I could never forget waking up at five in the morning and with steady contractions, the fourteen hours of labor, or the two and a half hours of pushing. Then staying up till two in the morning just staring at this brand new beautiful little baby boy. I remember the instant feeling of complete unconditional love and joy that I had him. And I knew my world was forever changed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FBPdrNpBLF8/T7BDjoz5YsI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/-93s6zfefEk/s1600/389592_599886017047_59600500_32177944_245659366_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FBPdrNpBLF8/T7BDjoz5YsI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/-93s6zfefEk/s320/389592_599886017047_59600500_32177944_245659366_n.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;My handsome little man today.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now almost two years later.... we have a walking, talking, very persistent, super silly, and amazing loving little boy. I just can't believe how much has happened between now and then. Being a mom has been the best and hardest thing of my life. Each day you are responsible for teaching your child how to behave, how to act, how to talk, how to not do things that will injure himself. It's exhausting! But dispersed through all that responsibility of trying not to mess up your kid, are moments of sweet perfection. Like when he climbs up on your lap and settles into your chest and you become intoxicated by the smell of his hair. Or when he comes up to you and puckers his lips, wanting a kiss just because.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vRrOyP0IJw0/T7BDjRdp99I/AAAAAAAAAUI/7a82TQgLlF0/s1600/35295_1299476658068_1564978007_629477_4279944_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vRrOyP0IJw0/T7BDjRdp99I/AAAAAAAAAUI/7a82TQgLlF0/s320/35295_1299476658068_1564978007_629477_4279944_n.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;My mom with Killian when he was born.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
And what Mother's Day wouldn't be complete without paying homage to my own mom. She has always done so much for me and never expected anything in return. Not only has she been a great mom to me, but a fantastic grandmother to my child. She has been one of my greatest cheerleaders in life, even when she had to drive me to cheerleading practices and competitions when I was younger, or make a cake at the last minute for me to bring to school (because I forget to tell her I volunteered to do so), or bring me to a hypnotist so I could get over my fear of doing a back handspring in gymnastics (which never did work).&lt;br /&gt;
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Looking back on all my mom's done for me, I can tell that I will certainly have my plate full in the coming years with Killian. Everyone says that being a mom is a selfless job, but the reward of getting to see your child grow and turn into the person they're born to be is priceless. I can't wait to bring Killian to hockey practices or stay up late helping him with his science fair project (which will win first place) or help him pick out an outfit for his first school dance. So much to look forward to. I love being a mom and all that it brings.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So on this Mother's Day I am very thankful for having grown up with such a caring and loving mom who would literally do anything for me. And I'm also grateful not just because I got to eat a cupcake for breakfast, but because 22 months ago I got the greatest gift of all when I became a mom. So happy Mother's Day to me and&amp;nbsp;Happy Mother's day to all my friends and family who are moms. You have all been an inspiration to me in one way or the other.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/557657457146237707-3035375830698089963?l=medstudentmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/3035375830698089963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2012/05/moms-word.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/3035375830698089963?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/3035375830698089963?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2012/05/moms-word.html' title='Mom&apos;s the Word!'/><author><name>MedStudentMommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12188364310947763785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b1CpG2qQ9KY/TcNIIdHT4WI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DeEnX04cgqs/s220/DSCN1218.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mNngI2htyy8/T7BDkLFMzxI/AAAAAAAAAUY/oQBC54Mupbs/s72-c/40205_529174224047_59600500_31450999_2666828_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;AkQDRXw6fSp7ImA9WhVVEk4.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-557657457146237707.post-3597831986175413677</id><published>2012-05-04T18:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-05-05T10:19:34.215-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2012-05-05T10:19:34.215-07:00</app:edited><title>Happy 1 Year Bloggerversary to Me!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HcLyYMRdoUc/T6R9aBkdpSI/AAAAAAAAAT8/muu1m2U_gmk/s1600/blogging+image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="260" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HcLyYMRdoUc/T6R9aBkdpSI/AAAAAAAAAT8/muu1m2U_gmk/s400/blogging+image.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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It's hard to believe that it's already been a year since I first started my blog. I honestly thought in the beginning that it'd be something that fizzled out quite quickly over time, especially being so busy with medical school, being a wife, taking care of my little boy.... but surprisingly I've kept up with it. Sure, I could have written a bit more here and there, but over 70 posts in a year is impressive for a first time blogger!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
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I always told myself that if I ever thought this was a chore or a task to get done then I wouldn't do it anymore. I wanted my blog to always be something that was therapeutic and fun for me, so if I ever felt like it was something I "had" to do then it just wouldn't work. Thankfully writing this blog is still quite enjoyable for me and hopefully just as enjoyable for those reading it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It's typically on your birthday that you reflect back on the year that passed, but today I've actually put more thought into it than on my birthday. I think it's because looking back through my posts over the past year, I can see how far I've come. I can honestly say that I'm a different person... I've grown to be more confident in myself and not worry so much about what others think of me. And by writing my thoughts and feelings and putting them out to the online world, I've become more vulnerable but strangely comfortable with it.&lt;br /&gt;
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I was away over the weekend for a women's physician mentoring weekend in Maine and one of the things we did during dinner was go around the room saying one thing we're grateful for, something we're good at, and something we're struggling with. I thought it was a great way of gauging where I'm at today and reflecting on my future. So with that said, I'm grateful that in just a few short weeks, after five longs years of hard work, I'll finally be graduating medical school. I'll be starting my dream job as a family practice doctor, which something I absolutely love to do (and not a lot of people can say that they love their job).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What I think I've been good at is being able to balance my life as a medical student, a wife, and a mom. The key for me has been to always recognize that being a doctor is my career, but my family and my friends are my life. And it's the people who surround me who give me strength and support, and truly help define the person I am today. Without them I couldn't be the doctor I will soon be and for them I am forever grateful.&lt;br /&gt;
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And finally, something I struggle with is trying to not always beat myself up, especially over the small things. I always feel like I'm never doing enough as a medical student or a mom or a wife. After all, we are all our own harshest critics. But in all seriousness, I need to let go sometimes and just be happy with myself. Whether it's regarding my parenting skills, my physical appearance, or my ability as a future physician. There's always room for improvement, but no need to bash yourself along the way.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So to wrap things up, I'd like to thank all those who have been following along in my journey. I truly appreciate every single person who has taken the time to read my words and those who've left some great comments. Even if just one person was getting something positive from my blog, then it's all worth it. Please stick around to read about my journey through residency and balancing being a doctor and a mom.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/557657457146237707-3597831986175413677?l=medstudentmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/3597831986175413677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2012/05/happy-1-year-blog-anniversary-to-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/3597831986175413677?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/3597831986175413677?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2012/05/happy-1-year-blog-anniversary-to-me.html' title='Happy 1 Year Bloggerversary to Me!'/><author><name>MedStudentMommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12188364310947763785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b1CpG2qQ9KY/TcNIIdHT4WI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DeEnX04cgqs/s220/DSCN1218.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HcLyYMRdoUc/T6R9aBkdpSI/AAAAAAAAAT8/muu1m2U_gmk/s72-c/blogging+image.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;DE8NSXc9eCp7ImA9WhVWE0o.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-557657457146237707.post-9148649400123048619</id><published>2012-04-25T11:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-04-25T11:01:38.960-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2012-04-25T11:01:38.960-07:00</app:edited><title>So Long Crib, Hello Toddler Bed</title><content type='html'>After my little guy (and my husband) recovered from the plague that was Hand, Foot, &amp;amp; Mouth disease, we thought we were getting back on track. Killian was happy and playing like his usual self. He went back to sleeping in his crib after spending a few nights on the air mattress watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse nonstop. Everything seemed to be back to normal.... then something switched.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It was as if a demon had possessed my child. He went from the boy who I used to brag about how good his sleeping habits were to a full blown insomniac. Every time we put him in his crib this week for a nap or for bed he'd scream bloody murder. And I'm not one to just give in easily, so I let him cry. Sure enough, though, he had a bit more stamina that I did because 20 minutes later he was still at it. Then I'd go in and give him a binky and lay him back down, only for him to get right back up and at it again. It was like this for up to two hours one night.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So I did what any other mom would do when they were at their wits end. I googled. I thought maybe he developed some sudden phobia of his crib, whether it was from when he was sick and in pain, or some weird thing he heard or saw one night. Who knows, but when I googled it I found out that it really isn't that rare. Especially at this age. From about a year and a half to two years old kids start developing fears and phobias. What makes it worse is that they can't reason their way out of the fear, especially since you can't explain to them that the shadow they saw on the wall isn't a monster or that they won't really get sucked down the tub drain.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He also very well could be going through a phase, but this is one phase I wasn't going to be able to put up with long seeing as we already went through a week of not sleeping when he was sick. So I found some really great advice on my google search, and it seemed the best thing to do was eliminate what was making him freak out: his crib. So last night we converted his crib to a toddler bed, and tried to make it as comfy and inviting as possible. Then we made a huge deal about how awesome his big boy bed is and had a little party in his room to celebrate.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We went through his normal bedtime routine: Tubby, pjs, milk, story time.... lots of story time. Then we tucked him in and left him like we would in his crib, but he was having none of that. So I brought him back to his bed and sat on the floor next to him and exactly four minutes later he was out like a light. My husband and I went to bed with much anxiety just waiting to see when he'd wake up and freak out running into our room. He did get up once at one in the morning, but we just walked him back to his bed and he went right back to sleep. The best part was when he woke up in the morning, he just waltzed right in our room and hopped on our bed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I was more nervous about nap time today, but we did the same routine of milk, story time, and sitting with him for a few minutes before he fell asleep (as evidenced by the picture below). It's been almost two and a half glorious hours of nap time so far, which is much improved from no nap time yesterday. And I finally got a little time to myself to just breathe.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-p7amch-pcs8/T5g5v4y58iI/AAAAAAAAAP8/Fgf_oXyA6Jg/s1600/306173_596123567027_59600500_32158946_1668997555_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-p7amch-pcs8/T5g5v4y58iI/AAAAAAAAAP8/Fgf_oXyA6Jg/s320/306173_596123567027_59600500_32158946_1668997555_n.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Another milestone accomplished, another crisis averted (for now). Man, being a mom is rough. Just when you think you've got things down, a curveball gets thrown at ya. Just one of the joys of being a parent.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
For those who are contemplating it, here's a great article on how and when to transition your child from a crib to a toddler bed: &lt;a href="http://www.stlouischildrens.org/articles/wellness/tackling-the-toddler-crib-bed-transition" target="_blank"&gt;Tackling the Toddler Crib-to-Bed Transition&lt;/a&gt;. Good luck and God's speed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/557657457146237707-9148649400123048619?l=medstudentmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/9148649400123048619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2012/04/so-long-crib-hello-toddler-bed.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/9148649400123048619?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/9148649400123048619?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2012/04/so-long-crib-hello-toddler-bed.html' title='So Long Crib, Hello Toddler Bed'/><author><name>MedStudentMommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12188364310947763785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b1CpG2qQ9KY/TcNIIdHT4WI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DeEnX04cgqs/s220/DSCN1218.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-p7amch-pcs8/T5g5v4y58iI/AAAAAAAAAP8/Fgf_oXyA6Jg/s72-c/306173_596123567027_59600500_32158946_1668997555_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;A0UCSXo_cSp7ImA9WhVXFkU.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-557657457146237707.post-8446704257566368842</id><published>2012-04-17T12:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-04-17T12:01:08.449-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2012-04-17T12:01:08.449-07:00</app:edited><title>It's not the man that makes the mustache, but the mustache that makes the man.</title><content type='html'>My husband turned 30 last week and I wanted to do something fun and unique to celebrate. So what better than having a &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"&gt;mustache bash&lt;/span&gt;? I've always poked fun at him for not being able to grow too much facial hair, despite all of our friends being able to create facial hair masterpieces. It was the job of all the (male) guests to show up wearing their best mustaches, and I provided ones for those (women) who couldn't muster one up for themselves.&lt;br /&gt;
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I've never heard of a &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"&gt;mustache bash&lt;/span&gt; before until I saw it on Pinterest. Apparently it's a popular theme for a little boy's party or a baby shower for a woman having a boy. My first order of business was making mustaches and bow ties on a stick. Then I went hunting for anything mustache-related.&amp;nbsp;I was quite surprised at just how much mustache paraphernalia there is! I got these cute little &lt;a href="http://www.neatoshop.com/product/Lip-Service-Mustache-Picks" target="_blank"&gt;mustache picks&lt;/a&gt; to top off the &lt;a href="http://www.browneyedbaker.com/2011/03/14/irish-car-bomb-cupcakes/" target="_blank"&gt;Irish car bomb cupcakes&lt;/a&gt; I made. Then there were the &lt;a href="http://www.urbanoutfitters.com/urban/catalog/productdetail.jsp?id=23442205&amp;amp;color=001" target="_blank"&gt;mustache straws&lt;/a&gt; to drink some Boylan root beer with. My all time favorite were the &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0057X3084/ref=pd_lpo_k2_dp_sr_1?pf_rd_p=486539851&amp;amp;pf_rd_s=lpo-top-stripe-1&amp;amp;pf_rd_t=201&amp;amp;pf_rd_i=B003UVHSEC&amp;amp;pf_rd_m=ATVPDKIKX0DER&amp;amp;pf_rd_r=19BH89BF1ASEK2RP2EEB" target="_blank"&gt;mustache finger tattoos&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6pLQ54iEGKw/T427TM5iF-I/AAAAAAAAAPU/lML7E91nUro/s1600/DSCN2439.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6pLQ54iEGKw/T427TM5iF-I/AAAAAAAAAPU/lML7E91nUro/s400/DSCN2439.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n_kT7EEIdgg/T428vy4KzbI/AAAAAAAAAP0/3TuVJyDcYLU/s1600/DSCN2464.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n_kT7EEIdgg/T428vy4KzbI/AAAAAAAAAP0/3TuVJyDcYLU/s400/DSCN2464.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
Everyone got to vote for their favorite mustaches, and the winner went home with a new razor and shaving kit (if they so choose to actually shave off the "award winning" mustache). Really what more do you need than some good friends and sweet 'staches? We had such a fun time, and it was by far my favorite themed party. My hubby is not only 30, but officially a man now. A man with a mustache... sort of.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/557657457146237707-8446704257566368842?l=medstudentmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/8446704257566368842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2012/04/its-not-man-that-makes-mustache-but.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/8446704257566368842?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/8446704257566368842?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2012/04/its-not-man-that-makes-mustache-but.html' title='It&apos;s not the man that makes the mustache, but the mustache that makes the man.'/><author><name>MedStudentMommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12188364310947763785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b1CpG2qQ9KY/TcNIIdHT4WI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DeEnX04cgqs/s220/DSCN1218.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KIA_5L27B-4/T427hKF9GUI/AAAAAAAAAPs/Pj0NqLPXdEU/s72-c/DSCN2453.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;DEAGSHszcSp7ImA9WhVXEkg.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-557657457146237707.post-3480382082184597994</id><published>2012-04-12T11:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-04-12T11:52:09.589-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2012-04-12T11:52:09.589-07:00</app:edited><title>Hand, Foot, &amp; Mouth... YUCK!</title><content type='html'>I mentioned yesterday that the little dude wasn't feeling too great. Well, as his rash started spreading and he started to scream every time he ate anything my diagnosing skills started to hone in. Fifth disease, chickenpox, measles?! I finally came to the conclusion (with validation from the pediatrician) that he had &lt;a href="http://www.nlm.nih.gov/medlineplus/ency/article/000965.htm" target="_blank"&gt;Hand, Foot, &amp;amp; Mouth disease&lt;/a&gt;. It's a stinky little virus (the Coxsackievirus, to be exact) that causes fever, followed by a rash that usually presents as blisters on the palms of hands, soles of feet, and sores in the mouth.&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AjFRV_K-qqU/T4cjjVFvI2I/AAAAAAAAAOg/jsyD-XSa3n0/s1600/230px-Hand_Foot_Mouth_Disease.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="254" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AjFRV_K-qqU/T4cjjVFvI2I/AAAAAAAAAOg/jsyD-XSa3n0/s320/230px-Hand_Foot_Mouth_Disease.png" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZWV0coX_rTM/T4cjjhgrT2I/AAAAAAAAAOo/IQQfYXe44LI/s1600/Hand-foot-and-mouth-disease2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZWV0coX_rTM/T4cjjhgrT2I/AAAAAAAAAOo/IQQfYXe44LI/s320/Hand-foot-and-mouth-disease2.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Well, the reason why it took me so long to even know it was that was because he never got the blisters on the hands and feet, but he did get a nasty blistery rash on his bottom. He also has the rash all around his mouth and spread all over his body. Apparently, it commonly presents this way. So my poor love bug literally can't eat anything without screaming in pain because of all the sores in his mouth, and can only tolerate sips of water. My hubby and I were up pretty much all night with him.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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In the end there's no real great treatment for this stupid virus, except tylenol and ibuprofen for the fever and pain. Not to mention lots of snuggling and kisses :* Oh, and in case you're wondering... yes, it's contagious, but most adults have been exposed to it at some point in there life and are already immune. That, or our immune system is strong enough to just fight it off. Hopefully in a few days he'll be on the up and up, and he'll be back to his rambunctious self.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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P.S.&lt;/div&gt;
&amp;nbsp;Hand, Foot, and Mouth disease is not to be confused with "Hoof and Mouth disease" which is seen in cattle and swine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/557657457146237707-3480382082184597994?l=medstudentmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/3480382082184597994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2012/04/hand-foot-mouth-yuck.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/3480382082184597994?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/3480382082184597994?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2012/04/hand-foot-mouth-yuck.html' title='Hand, Foot, &amp; Mouth... YUCK!'/><author><name>MedStudentMommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12188364310947763785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b1CpG2qQ9KY/TcNIIdHT4WI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DeEnX04cgqs/s220/DSCN1218.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AjFRV_K-qqU/T4cjjVFvI2I/AAAAAAAAAOg/jsyD-XSa3n0/s72-c/230px-Hand_Foot_Mouth_Disease.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;AkMERH45cCp7ImA9WhVXEUU.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-557657457146237707.post-5746776428547253869</id><published>2012-04-11T16:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-04-11T16:53:25.028-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2012-04-11T16:53:25.028-07:00</app:edited><title>Happy Easter, Happy Spring</title><content type='html'>After spending the last couple weeks on a mini-vacation from my blog, I've finally returned. It's funny how now that I have more time on my hands, I don't blog nearly as much as when I've been super busy with medical school. Probably because I've been enjoying all time I get to spend with my two favorite boys. There's lots to fill you in on!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Z9R0XCLuBGI/T4YXEaeZ9_I/AAAAAAAAAN4/XOIfkCfOtec/s1600/557496_589692445047_59600500_32126525_431080694_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Z9R0XCLuBGI/T4YXEaeZ9_I/AAAAAAAAAN4/XOIfkCfOtec/s320/557496_589692445047_59600500_32126525_431080694_n.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Well it all started a few weeks ago when we had a week of absolutely gorgeous weather here in New England. Coincidentally, it was the week of my birthday. My hubby took the little man and I to the zoo as a birthday surprise. Killian had such a blast running around and seeing all the animals (especially the monkeys). Then on my actual birthday we went to the beach (Yes, it was THAT nice out!). We spent the morning basking in the sun and playing in the sand and not going in the freezing cold water.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vLTJAvFxZ_0/T4YXEmhn_6I/AAAAAAAAAOA/wuAysxhLP6s/s1600/557820_10150713186586842_729711841_9568189_1750828787_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vLTJAvFxZ_0/T4YXEmhn_6I/AAAAAAAAAOA/wuAysxhLP6s/s200/557820_10150713186586842_729711841_9568189_1750828787_n.jpg" width="133" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;A week later Killian went to his special girlfriend's birthday party where there was a giant scary Elmo, who Killian wasn't at all scared of. He ate cake for only the second time in his life and left with a new pet fish which he named "Bobo."&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then came Easter.... Killian scored big this year with the Easter bunny who left a basket full of pretty awesome toys (and no candy). We hunted for eggs, and had a pretty great day with the family. Oh, and I made some pretty delicious Italian Easter bread.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xts_G7eEHLE/T4YXPZr0wKI/AAAAAAAAAOY/oiDQQ4W19Gs/s1600/DSCN2399.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xts_G7eEHLE/T4YXPZr0wKI/AAAAAAAAAOY/oiDQQ4W19Gs/s320/DSCN2399.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;Which leads us up to today. The little man's not feeling too great. The last few weeks must have been more excitement than he could handle because he threw up last night and has had a fever all day today. Most likely it's just a virus, which just means that he gets lots and lots of cuddles and fluids. Hopefully he'll be back to himself in a day or two.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the meantime, I will try to be a better blogger. I'm trying to come up with some good informative topics for you all so that I'm not just rambling on about myself. I also need to think of a new catchy title for my blog since I'll no longer be a medical student and will be an actual doctor! If you have any suggestions, feel free to let me know!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/557657457146237707-5746776428547253869?l=medstudentmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/5746776428547253869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2012/04/happy-easter-happy-spring.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/5746776428547253869?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/5746776428547253869?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2012/04/happy-easter-happy-spring.html' title='Happy Easter, Happy Spring'/><author><name>MedStudentMommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12188364310947763785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b1CpG2qQ9KY/TcNIIdHT4WI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DeEnX04cgqs/s220/DSCN1218.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Z9R0XCLuBGI/T4YXEaeZ9_I/AAAAAAAAAN4/XOIfkCfOtec/s72-c/557496_589692445047_59600500_32126525_431080694_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;CEEHRXY-fyp7ImA9WhVREUw.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-557657457146237707.post-8983236891297527564</id><published>2012-03-18T16:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-03-18T16:17:14.857-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2012-03-18T16:17:14.857-07:00</app:edited><title>A Perfect Match</title><content type='html'>As you all know from the buildup the last few months, this past friday was &lt;a href="http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2012/01/2012-residency-draft-aka-match.html" target="_blank"&gt;The Match&lt;/a&gt;. The day in which the future of every fourth year medical student is decided. Of course they have to torture you by having you wait until exactly 1pm to get that oh-so-important email. Each school has it's own way of doing The Match. Some have ceremonies where students get envelopes and they all open them at the same time. Others have each student read out individually in front of the class where they matched. My school's kinda lame and we don't have anything like that. We just get an email.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;So my day started like any other. I woke up, went to the gym to distract myself..... hours later, minutes before 1 o'clock, my husband and I are sitting next to each other couch waiting. At exactly 1pm I open up my email to find that I have matched at NH-Dartmouth Family Medicine Residency. &lt;i&gt;My first choice.&lt;/i&gt; The joy and happiness of it all just overcame me. Along with a sense of complete and utter relief. The last fiver years of our lives&amp;nbsp;culminated in this moment. This is what you work so hard for in medical school, to get the residency of your dreams. And I did.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/557657457146237707-8983236891297527564?l=medstudentmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/8983236891297527564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2012/03/perfect-match.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/8983236891297527564?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/8983236891297527564?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2012/03/perfect-match.html' title='A Perfect Match'/><author><name>MedStudentMommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12188364310947763785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b1CpG2qQ9KY/TcNIIdHT4WI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DeEnX04cgqs/s220/DSCN1218.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;DkEGR345eCp7ImA9WhVSGEk.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-557657457146237707.post-3133964587051347089</id><published>2012-03-15T13:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-03-15T13:50:26.020-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2012-03-15T13:50:26.020-07:00</app:edited><title>My Last Day as a Medical Student</title><content type='html'>&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--oJaWi5NYFA/T2JVBAFKEBI/AAAAAAAAANg/8Co-1rqE9l0/s1600/420522_588636161847_59600500_32118745_881484151_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--oJaWi5NYFA/T2JVBAFKEBI/AAAAAAAAANg/8Co-1rqE9l0/s320/420522_588636161847_59600500_32118745_881484151_n.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Pic of me on my last day as a med student!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;Four and a half years ago I stepped onto campus as a first year medical student. I vividly remember everything about that day... Getting a tour of the campus, getting my picture taken for my ID, getting sized for my (short) white coat. One of the most exciting (and scary) days of my life. Little did I know that it was only the beginning of the hardest, yet happiest, five years of my life. Hundreds (maybe thousands) of hours of studying, long days in hospitals and clinics, all mixed with getting married and having a baby.&lt;br /&gt;
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So for the first time in five years, when my alarm went off this morning I woke up with a smile on my face. Today was my last day as a medical student. As of today I have sat through every hour of class, completed every exam, finished all my required clinical rotation credits. Today was the final time that I would introduce myself as a "medical student", and the last time I would have to wear the &lt;i&gt;short &lt;/i&gt;white coat.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BWhLNkylyI/T2JVABNmTfI/AAAAAAAAANQ/TArjiI-4gKI/s1600/417088_588635463247_59600500_32118743_1529839296_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BWhLNkylyI/T2JVABNmTfI/AAAAAAAAANQ/TArjiI-4gKI/s200/417088_588635463247_59600500_32118743_1529839296_n.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Smoothie time!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;I started my day off like any other: getting some morning snuggles from my little man, followed by showering and getting dressed, having a smoothie for breakfast, and then off to the hospital. I met up with the attending in the ambulatory care center where we did a diagnostic colonoscopy on a patient with metastatic colon cancer, an upper endoscopy, two liver biopsies, and another colonoscopy. Then my day was done. I walked out of the hospital for the last time as a medical student, and if I end up returning to the same place for residency, then I'll return as a physician. Quite fitting if I say so myself.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Cn4bFT8yiK0/T2JVAuZqYAI/AAAAAAAAANY/kAYrJdqzvGQ/s1600/418360_588681091807_59600500_32118881_1864311255_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Cn4bFT8yiK0/T2JVAuZqYAI/AAAAAAAAANY/kAYrJdqzvGQ/s320/418360_588681091807_59600500_32118881_1864311255_n.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Snuggling with my little man.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
So now I'm home hanging out with my boy and basking in the fact that I get to spend the next few months just being a mom. I don't think it's actually hit me yet that I'm really really done, but maybe after The Match tomorrow, reality will hit me a little harder. Or maybe it won't even be until graduation (see countdown ticker on right side of page). Either way, the next time I step foot in a hospital, I'll be a resident physician. I'll get a tour, get my ID picture taken, and get sized for my (long) white coat. Sound familiar?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/557657457146237707-3133964587051347089?l=medstudentmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/3133964587051347089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2012/03/my-last-day-as-medical-student.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/3133964587051347089?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/3133964587051347089?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2012/03/my-last-day-as-medical-student.html' title='My Last Day as a Medical Student'/><author><name>MedStudentMommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12188364310947763785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b1CpG2qQ9KY/TcNIIdHT4WI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DeEnX04cgqs/s220/DSCN1218.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--oJaWi5NYFA/T2JVBAFKEBI/AAAAAAAAANg/8Co-1rqE9l0/s72-c/420522_588636161847_59600500_32118745_881484151_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;DkMHQX84fyp7ImA9WhVSFUQ.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-557657457146237707.post-6358130382890944143</id><published>2012-03-12T16:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-03-12T16:20:30.137-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2012-03-12T16:20:30.137-07:00</app:edited><title>Black Monday? Not so much :)</title><content type='html'>Today is what is known in the med-school community as "Black Monday". Today is the day that fourth year med students find out if they matched at a residency program or not. Here's how the day goes.... at exactly 12pm you get an email from the NRMP saying either, "Congratulations! You have matched!" or "Sorry, you have not matched :( " Well, I don't exactly know what they say if you don't match, and nor do I think they put a frowny face, because I was lucky enough to get the happier of the two emails. Yes, my friends. I will be spending the next three years happily employed as a family medicine resident. However, here's the messed up part: If you do match somewhere, then you won't find out until Friday (4 days from now!) where in fact you did match.&amp;nbsp;If you think that's nuts, then try being an actual med student and having to go through it yourself.&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So you may be asking, what happens if you don't match? If you don't match, then you have an hour before the electronic residency application service opens up for you to submit your application to programs that have unfilled positions. And unfortunately, there may or may not have positions available in the field in which you were originally applying to. Meaning, that competitive specialties like Dermatology or Anesthesiology most likely have all their spots filled, and you'd be stuck applying for a Family Medicine residency (which in my mind would be a good thing, but I'm biased). Even worse is that you probably will end up in a location not exactly where you were hoping to be in the first place. So not an ideal situation if you don't match.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thankfully, I did not have to endure the kind of torture involved in scrambling for a spot. Like I said, I got the good email. The minutes before my iphone ticked down to 12:00, I literally thought I was going to vomit in the doctors lounge at the hospital. Every horrible thought and scenario ran through my head, and I completely forgot all the good feedback I got from programs I interviewed at. Then when I finally got one of the greatest emails of my life, I literally screamed with joy (no one else was in the doctor's lounge with me, but even if someone was I probably still would've screamed). The relief that overcame me was incredible. All the hard work put in over the past five years paid off.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I did what any good medical student would do. I took the afternoon off. I went home and high-fived my husband. Went for an amazing run with him and our dog on this beautiful day. Then I played with my wonderful little boy outside all afternoon. It was literally one of the most perfect days. Now I just have to endure four more days before finding out where exactly I matched at and where I'll be spending the next three years as a resident. Strangely, I'm not as anxious as I thought I'd be because I'll honestly be happy at any of the programs. Of course, I'm really hoping to get my #1 choice, but I didn't rank any program I knew I'd be unhappy at.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--3zIiPJ-IrM/T16D3waUM7I/AAAAAAAAANI/NgAYM1dd5A0/s1600/429341_588214382097_59600500_32116584_706311638_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--3zIiPJ-IrM/T16D3waUM7I/AAAAAAAAANI/NgAYM1dd5A0/s320/429341_588214382097_59600500_32116584_706311638_n.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So come Friday I'll share with all of you where I matched for residency. And I'm sure that day will be just as perfect as today's.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/557657457146237707-6358130382890944143?l=medstudentmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/6358130382890944143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2012/03/black-monday-not-so-much.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/6358130382890944143?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/6358130382890944143?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2012/03/black-monday-not-so-much.html' title='Black Monday? Not so much :)'/><author><name>MedStudentMommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12188364310947763785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b1CpG2qQ9KY/TcNIIdHT4WI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DeEnX04cgqs/s220/DSCN1218.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--3zIiPJ-IrM/T16D3waUM7I/AAAAAAAAANI/NgAYM1dd5A0/s72-c/429341_588214382097_59600500_32116584_706311638_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;DEICQX84fSp7ImA9WhVSFEU.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-557657457146237707.post-1709519599503353215</id><published>2012-03-11T10:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-03-11T10:22:40.135-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2012-03-11T10:22:40.135-07:00</app:edited><title>No "Butts" About It!</title><content type='html'>My final two weeks as a medical student I'm working with a team of gastroenterologists. And I have to say, I have never seen more butts in my life! Of course, the bread and butter of a GI doc is doing colonoscopies. So naturally they see a lot of "behinds" before taking an interesting journey up the rectum and through the colon with a snazzy camera. I akin it to watching an episode of the Magic School Bus and playing a video game at the same time. If you've never seen a colonoscopy before, check this video out on youtube:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://0.gvt0.com/vi/6kg5wZQfADQ/0.jpg"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/6kg5wZQfADQ&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" /&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /&gt;&lt;embed width="320" height="266"  src="http://www.youtube.com/v/6kg5wZQfADQ&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Of course, I've been doing a lot more than just traveling up people's colons. I've seen my share of GI bleeds and pancreatitis (which is a true reflection of the plight of today's society, aka: everyone's an alcoholic these days). Then you have the run of the mill gallstones and cholecystitis, meaning people eat too much fat. And of course there's lots of other cool disease.&amp;nbsp;What I like so much about the gastrointestinal system is that everything is so mechanical. Something breaks and you can just go in and patch it up. Polyp in the colon? Remove it. Stricture in the esophagus? Stretch it. Simple. Easy. Saving lives.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So this week will now be my last as a medical student. I'm trying to take in as much as possible and really learn instead of slack off (kind of like cramming in as much as you can right before a big test). But I might be working a little harder to try to distract myself from the upcoming residency Match. Five days my friends. Five days. And hopefully at that point I'll have some good news for you all. In the meantime, enjoy my little video and if you're 50 years or older or have a family history of colon cancer, please schedule a screening colonoscopy. &amp;nbsp;1 in 20 people are diagnosed with colon cancer, and a colonoscopy could save your life!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/557657457146237707-1709519599503353215?l=medstudentmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/1709519599503353215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2012/03/no-butts-about-it.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/1709519599503353215?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/1709519599503353215?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2012/03/no-butts-about-it.html' title='No &quot;Butts&quot; About It!'/><author><name>MedStudentMommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12188364310947763785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b1CpG2qQ9KY/TcNIIdHT4WI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DeEnX04cgqs/s220/DSCN1218.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;CUQARnk6fCp7ImA9WhVTGUw.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-557657457146237707.post-7857626124700520773</id><published>2012-03-04T18:07:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-03-04T18:09:07.714-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2012-03-04T18:09:07.714-08:00</app:edited><title>March Madness</title><content type='html'>Cheers to what I hope the be one of the greatest months ever! And it's not because of college basketball. This month I will complete my last few weeks of clinical rotations, which means that in 12 days I will have successfully finished my very long and tortuous training as a medical student. I spent last month fulfilling my surgery elective requirement working with an ENT doctor. I have to admit that I was seriously dreading doing a surgery rotation, mainly because that was the one block during third year that I absolutely hated. It may have had something to do with the fact that I was in my first trimester of pregnancy and got banned from scrubbing into long procedures because I frequently had to leave the OR to puke or pee.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oNZKz69-250/T1Qe7QE9sKI/AAAAAAAAAM0/xHagbFP68Pw/s1600/419985_583585523367_59600500_32096364_1061557514_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oNZKz69-250/T1Qe7QE9sKI/AAAAAAAAAM0/xHagbFP68Pw/s320/419985_583585523367_59600500_32096364_1061557514_n.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;A happy pair of tonsils!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;Anyways, as I was saying... I was not looking forward to four weeks of surgery, but I made a resolution to try to make the best of it and really learn from it. So I picked a specialty that I thought would be particularly useful to me as a family physician. What better than ENT? Seriously. So I geared up for what I thought would be a month of long hours, lots of work, and getting constantly pimped (not in a hooker way, in a getting asked medical questions to try to stump you kind of way). Turns out that I was lucky enough to find a surgeon who doesn't at all have that surgeon personality- and by that I mean doesn't make a comment that women shouldn't be doctors because they get pregnant (true story), and thankfully took pity on me as a fourth year medical student at the end of her final year.&amp;nbsp;I learned how to really diagnose an ear infection, and got to watch many many tonsillectomies.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The next two weeks I'll be doing gastroenterology as an elective. And of course with any new rotation, I'm nervous just to start working with new docs, but quite frankly I'm just so excited to almost be done that I'm not as anxious as I usually am. Two more weeks left to learn all that there is to learn during my medical school career. Then to top it off, the last day of my rotations will culminate in &lt;a href="http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2012/01/2012-residency-draft-aka-match.html" target="_blank"&gt;The Match&lt;/a&gt; where my future as a physician will be determined, and I'll find out which residency program I'll be gracing with my presence for the next three years. A fitting end to a half a decade of hard work, blood, sweat, and tears. And hopefully if I'll be celebrating having a real job after it's all over.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Turns out the day after The Match is actually St. Patty's day, which if you're Irish like me, is kind of a big deal. So my celebration will extend well into the next day. Can't get better than that. Oh wait, yes it can! Because just five days later will be my 28th birthday. Even more reason to celebrate! Actually, the surgeon I just worked with thought it was rather funny that I always tried to find an excuse to celebrate. Why not? With a life like mine, I think every day's a reason to celebrate. Oh, and let's not forget that spring is just around the corner....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/557657457146237707-7857626124700520773?l=medstudentmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/7857626124700520773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2012/03/march-madness.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/7857626124700520773?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/7857626124700520773?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2012/03/march-madness.html' title='March Madness'/><author><name>MedStudentMommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12188364310947763785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b1CpG2qQ9KY/TcNIIdHT4WI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DeEnX04cgqs/s220/DSCN1218.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oNZKz69-250/T1Qe7QE9sKI/AAAAAAAAAM0/xHagbFP68Pw/s72-c/419985_583585523367_59600500_32096364_1061557514_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;C0YBRHszfip7ImA9WhRaEkk.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-557657457146237707.post-6400520918517116475</id><published>2012-02-14T09:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-14T09:39:15.586-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2012-02-14T09:39:15.586-08:00</app:edited><title>The First Cut is the Deepest</title><content type='html'>My little boy has officially turned into a big boy. He got his first haircut this week. I knew it was inevitable seeing as his beautiful curly quaff was starting to turn into a frizzy mullet. And since he's the ring-bearer in a wedding in a few weeks, I figured it was time to clean him up a bit. I know a lot of moms who absolutely refuse to cut their child's hair and by two years of age they could easily pass for a member of an 80s hair band. But I've never been that kind of mom who freaks out when my kid gets shots or got emotional over weaning from breastfeeding. And getting his first haircut was no different.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Vtboh2DD24c/TzqbM0U5DMI/AAAAAAAAAMs/7lm5bbLQ2_Y/s1600/DSCN2231.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Vtboh2DD24c/TzqbM0U5DMI/AAAAAAAAAMs/7lm5bbLQ2_Y/s320/DSCN2231.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So my husband and I brought him to our local barbershop where my husband usually goes. When we first got there she was also cutting another little boys hair, and I thought it would be good for Killian to see but he was more interested in the candy machine instead. Thankfully this barber is smart enough to have a little TV in front of her chair to try to distract the little guys. It was then Killian's turn and my husband sat him on his lap. We prepared ourselves for a wrestling match, but surprisingly he was really good. The barber took her first snip and gave me his beautiful golden curl so I could scrapbook it (I have a whole drawer of stuff I still need to scrapbook if I ever get time). Aside from the occasional moment where he tried to dodge her, he did amazingly well.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Lf6Pnwrr3po/TzqbES3qeiI/AAAAAAAAAMk/fL8UabqlD4o/s1600/430794_582029406837_59600500_32091071_2051765742_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Lf6Pnwrr3po/TzqbES3qeiI/AAAAAAAAAMk/fL8UabqlD4o/s320/430794_582029406837_59600500_32091071_2051765742_n.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Checking out his new do!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;In a few short moments my little guy was done and even looked a few months older! I was more nervous of the barber just totally screwing up and having the shave his whole head- of course I jump to the most drastic outcome- but that didn't happen and he looked so handsome in the end. Now he has a slick new haircut to go with his fancy tux for the wedding. And maybe this "big boy" haircut will bring some big boy changes. I can already see him acting a little older!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/557657457146237707-6400520918517116475?l=medstudentmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/6400520918517116475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2012/02/first-cut-is-deepest.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/6400520918517116475?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/6400520918517116475?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2012/02/first-cut-is-deepest.html' title='The First Cut is the Deepest'/><author><name>MedStudentMommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12188364310947763785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b1CpG2qQ9KY/TcNIIdHT4WI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DeEnX04cgqs/s220/DSCN1218.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Vtboh2DD24c/TzqbM0U5DMI/AAAAAAAAAMs/7lm5bbLQ2_Y/s72-c/DSCN2231.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;AkUFRX86eyp7ImA9WhRbGE0.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-557657457146237707.post-8090840146163093777</id><published>2012-02-09T09:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-09T09:23:34.113-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2012-02-09T09:23:34.113-08:00</app:edited><title>My Personal Statement</title><content type='html'>As a medical student applying to residency you are required to write a "personal statement". Considering we've spent the last four years writing nothing more than notes, which consist mostly in medical abbreviations, it's quite the task to become grammar-literate (not a real term btw) again. The personal statement is the one and only party of your residency application where you have a chance to express your personality. It should explain why the specialty you chose is a good fit for you, what your goals for the future are, highlight your accomplishments, and maybe even tell a story of an experience that helped define the person you are today- all within the limits of one page. A personal statement can actually be quite personal to each student. I know mine is. But even so, I've decided to share it with you all. Deciding to go into family medicine was a huge decision for me, and I hope that other med students reading this can see why I choose this field and maybe consider it for themselves one day.&lt;br /&gt;
Enjoy.....&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;A 44 year old mother of three, I was seeing her for the third time in just a week. It was supposed to be an easy visit, going over the results of her MRI, which came back with “nonspecific” findings. Only now her headache was getting worse despite the medications she was taking, and she started experiencing weight gain, extreme fatigue, dizziness, unbalanced gait, and nausea. I knew at this point that it was more than just a headache. I rechecked her blood pressure, which was still elevated. After the doctor I was working with came in and evaluated her as well, we decided it was best to admit her to the hospital for further workup.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 15.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;After some additional testing, she was diagnosed with metastatic small cell carcinoma and died just two weeks later. It was only my second rotation as a third year medical student, and I certainly did not expect to experience my first patient death so soon, and on a family practice rotation no less. But then again, I didn’t expect to diagnose someone with temporal arteritis or make home visits to a woman with progressive ALS. Here I was thinking that family practice was just managing hypertension, diabetes, or hyperlipidemia and I came to realize it is so much more than that.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 15.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;When I first started medical school I never would have imagined that I would be drawn towards a career in family medicine. There are so many specialties out there to choose from. I couldn’t imagine &lt;i&gt;just&lt;/i&gt; being a family practitioner. That’s the dilemma, though, there are so many specialties. How can you chose &lt;i&gt;just&lt;/i&gt; one? At the end of third year I found myself so intrigued by absolutely everything, with a few exceptions, that I couldn’t make up my mind. I wanted to do it all, and looking back on all the rotations I had done, it was only during family practice that I got to see the entire spectrum of medicine. It was the most satisfying experience of my third year. The connections I made and relationships that were built with my patients during that six week block were unmatched during any of my other clinical rotations.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 15.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Family Practice is one of the only fields of medicine where you get the chance to treat the “whole” patient. Every other specialty focuses on just one system or part of a patient, while in family practice you actually get to see the patient as a person, get to know their story and their background. That’s what I love so much about it: you have the incredible privilege of being allowed into another person’s life. So much of getting to do this relies on one’s ability to communicate well and build trusting relationships with your patients, an attribute I consider one of my greatest strengths.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 15.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Being a family practitioner allows you to be not just a doctor but also part of a community. Meaning, your social responsibility is not just to patient care, but also to the town or city you work in. When my family opened a restaurant seven years ago, we wanted it to be more than just a place to get breakfast. We wanted to be a part of the community. Each year I’ve organized auctions raising money for David’s House, ran “Toys for Tips” events, and collected donations for the local soup kitchen. I never did these things because I had to, but because it just felt right. I wanted to use our business to bring the people of our neighborhood together and work towards a common cause and help those who are less fortunate.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 15.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;As a future physician I plan to continue to be an active participant in the community that I work in. I look forward to starting new projects, helping out at local events, and being involved in health education. Whether it’s giving guest lectures at local schools about nutrition or staying late hours to work at the flu vaccine clinic. I want to be the doctor who takes the extra minute or two at the end of a visit to counsel my patients to quit smoking so that they don’t get lung cancer in the future. I will be the physician who leads by example and practice what I preach by showing my patients how to lead a healthy lifestyle. Above all, I will be the kind of doctor I’d want taking care of my family.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/557657457146237707-8090840146163093777?l=medstudentmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/8090840146163093777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2012/02/my-personal-statement.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/8090840146163093777?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/8090840146163093777?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2012/02/my-personal-statement.html' title='My Personal Statement'/><author><name>MedStudentMommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12188364310947763785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b1CpG2qQ9KY/TcNIIdHT4WI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DeEnX04cgqs/s220/DSCN1218.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;CE8CQHw5cSp7ImA9WhRbF08.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-557657457146237707.post-7557298105293990686</id><published>2012-02-08T09:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-08T09:41:01.229-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2012-02-08T09:41:01.229-08:00</app:edited><title>It Takes Two</title><content type='html'>Any married couple will tell you that it takes a lot of work to keep a marriage going strong. Sure, it's a little easier when you know you married the love of your life and your soulmate, but a lot more than just love goes into making the relationship stand the test of time. My husband and I haven't been married that long, but with both of us going through grad school, moving constantly, getting new jobs, having a child... we're certainly not free of stressors on our relationship.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IyL92T9VOcs/TzKyRdDwaKI/AAAAAAAAAMc/THOKnbwMJCI/s1600/5895_517265449327_59600500_30956283_607177_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IyL92T9VOcs/TzKyRdDwaKI/AAAAAAAAAMc/THOKnbwMJCI/s320/5895_517265449327_59600500_30956283_607177_n.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;The hubby and I at the top of Blarney castle in Ireland.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;The most important factor in maintaining a healthy marriage and being able to communicate when things aren't going well. My husband and I got to a point at the end of my last rotation where we both admitted to each other that we weren't happy with how little time we had for each other. I find it takes a lot of courage to really admit when there's a problem and I'm proud that we were both able to verbalize this and discuss what we needed to do to fix it. But then again, I'm not really surprised because we've always been open and honest about things from day one.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So after identifying that our lack of actual alone time together was our primary issue, we needed to figure out a way to remedy the situation. I keep having to remind each other that with a child and demanding careers, we're certainly not going to find any extra hours in a day and it's a matter of taking advantage of what little time we do get. So we threw the parental guilt aside and arranged for the little bug to go have a playdate with his slightly older girlfriend (by older, I mean three months), while we spent our day off together.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now it always amazed me to have a "day off". I mean, what do people do when they're not working? Or better yet, what do people who don't work do? Well, for a couple like us, who didn't want to spend much money or go very far, we opted to simply go out to lunch. Then we were going to see a movie, but nothing really good was playing. So we had an even better idea of buying a movie, blowing up our air mattress in our living room, and getting comfy while enjoying our new flick. It sounds so simple, like something we could have easily done any day, but really it was some much needed relaxation (without a toddler screaming in our ears or jumping all over us).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Not to say that quality couple time always requires us to drop the little guy off with a sitter. Today for instance, I'm lucky enough to have the afternoon off. So we're going as a family to our local museum. The point is, just to make sure you take advantage of the times you are together and not just sit in front of the TV or on your computers. I know it's going to be a struggle entering residency and working a lot more hours, but keeping a happy marriage is an important part of being healthy and also being a good example to my child.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/557657457146237707-7557298105293990686?l=medstudentmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/7557298105293990686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2012/02/it-takes-two.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/7557298105293990686?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/7557298105293990686?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2012/02/it-takes-two.html' title='It Takes Two'/><author><name>MedStudentMommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12188364310947763785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b1CpG2qQ9KY/TcNIIdHT4WI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DeEnX04cgqs/s220/DSCN1218.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IyL92T9VOcs/TzKyRdDwaKI/AAAAAAAAAMc/THOKnbwMJCI/s72-c/5895_517265449327_59600500_30956283_607177_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;DUEAQn4-fip7ImA9WhRUE0g.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-557657457146237707.post-2420580491968820951</id><published>2012-01-23T14:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-23T14:27:23.056-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2012-01-23T14:27:23.056-08:00</app:edited><title>The 2012 Residency Draft.... aka: "The Match"</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;In the real world, when you graduate from school, you have the freedom to go apply and interview for a&amp;nbsp;job in your field. Now you may or may not get that job, but that's ok because you can just apply for another one if you don't. In the med school world this practice is thrown out the window. Most people are under the assumption that once you graduate med school, you simply apply for a job at a hospital or a practice and POOF! You're a doctor! Well, allow me to elaborate on what med students have to really go through.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;After four years of undergraduate education and four years of medical school... you then have to go into residency. You'd think that after eight years of torturous biochemistry, pathophysiology, and gross anatomy, along with two years of clinical learning, that you've earned enough street cred to just go practice medicine. Well, technically as a resident you are a doctor, but I liken it to a "doctor with training wheels". And exactly how long you have to wear those training wheels depends on which specialty you go into. I'm going into Family Medicine, which requires a 3 year residency. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Now applying for residency is the tricky part. There's this big online application program called ERAS (electronic residency application service), and you HAVE to apply to residencies through this and only this (which costs $ of course). So you upload your transcripts and your CV and you write a personal statement about how awesome you are. All of this is compiled into your application. You then pick a list of residency programs to apply to. I applied to 12. Then ERAS sends all your info to these programs, at which point they decide whether they like you enough on paper to invite you for an interview. Please refer to my previous post: &lt;a href="http://www.medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2011/12/hi-my-name-is-maria-i-want-to-be.html" target="_blank"&gt;Hi, My Name is Maria. I want to be a Resident at your Program!&lt;/a&gt; on what that's like!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AskqZ3w7WIU/Tx3cgvT8L1I/AAAAAAAAAMU/x5NtP15vrYA/s1600/The_Match_Game.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" nfa="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AskqZ3w7WIU/Tx3cgvT8L1I/AAAAAAAAAMU/x5NtP15vrYA/s320/The_Match_Game.png" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After interviews are all said and done is where the tricky part comes along. Programs can't just call you and say, "Congratulations! You got the job." Instead, you have to enroll in THE MATCH ("The Match" will remain capitalized from here on because when I say those words, I would like to have that "dun dun dun...."&amp;nbsp;connotation with it. That's how serious it is.). It's another service, which of course costs more money, in which you have to submit a Rank Order List. A Rank Order List (ROL) is a list of the residency programs you'd like to attend in descending order of likeness. At the same time each residency program submits a list of their own, which includes the medical students they've interviewed in the order in which they like them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Then comes match day, which this year is March 16th. Some big magical mystical computer system goes through your ROL and the residency programs lists and matches students up based on how each have ranked each other. So if I'm lucky enough that&amp;nbsp;the number one program on my list, ranked me high enough, then I will likely get matched to that program. If not, then it goes to my number two, then number three. So on and so forth. If for some reason, which there are many, that you do not match with a program then you have to "scramble". To scramble means that you have to call programs that may still have an opening and hope that they like your credentials enough to give you a spot. This is every fourth year medical students worst nightmare.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The morning of THE MATCH&amp;nbsp;you will receive an email or a letter from your school, which states where you have matched. Whether you matched at your number one choice or your number 10 choice, you are contractually obligated to fulfill your residency at that program. So it's really important to only rank programs you know you will be happy at. The residency director usually calls you and congratulates you, and then you can breath a giant sigh of relief knowing that you will have a job after almost a decade of schooling. Most coincidentally, THE MATCH falls right before St. Patty's day this year, which means that my celebration will continue throughout the weekend (or I'll be drowning my sorrows in pints of green beer if the unthinkable happened and I did not match). &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uJE8ZxY0q5M/Tx3caPk4rFI/AAAAAAAAAMM/Biy0Jdie5qw/s1600/tom-brady-crying_original_display_image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="151" nfa="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uJE8ZxY0q5M/Tx3caPk4rFI/AAAAAAAAAMM/Biy0Jdie5qw/s200/tom-brady-crying_original_display_image.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;When I tried to explain this whole process to my family, they looked at me quite puzzled. "So.... It's like the NFL draft?" they said. Well, kind of... minus the whole giant televised event where someone's up at a podium and goes, "The New England Patriots in the first round of the 2012 draft choose Maria Boylan!" And I walk up and put on a white coat and the residency director shakes my hand and we freeze and pose for a picture. And then I cry like Tom Brady did when he was drafted. Ok, not exactly like that. There's no big event, and you don't get a jersey and a million dollar contract. But I imagine the feeling is just the same. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;So at this point in time, I'm getting ready to submit my ROL and then just crossing my fingers and hoping for the best. The fate of my future lies with THE MATCH gods. Luckily, I think I've got a really good group of programs on my list and would truly be lucky to do my residency with any of them. But I think they'll be pretty lucky to have me too :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/557657457146237707-2420580491968820951?l=medstudentmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/2420580491968820951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2012/01/2012-residency-draft-aka-match.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/2420580491968820951?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/2420580491968820951?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2012/01/2012-residency-draft-aka-match.html' title='The 2012 Residency Draft.... aka: &quot;The Match&quot;'/><author><name>MedStudentMommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12188364310947763785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b1CpG2qQ9KY/TcNIIdHT4WI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DeEnX04cgqs/s220/DSCN1218.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AskqZ3w7WIU/Tx3cgvT8L1I/AAAAAAAAAMU/x5NtP15vrYA/s72-c/The_Match_Game.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;A04NSHk4fip7ImA9WhRUEE0.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-557657457146237707.post-5099439341047012731</id><published>2012-01-19T13:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-19T13:53:19.736-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2012-01-19T13:53:19.736-08:00</app:edited><title>Death and Dying</title><content type='html'>People ask me all the time how I deal with my patients dying. Quite honsetly, I think I do pretty well with it. After all, you're looking at a girl who's father has worked in "the business" since before I was born. And by "business" I don't mean he's involved in some sort of illegal mob-type situation (though he could surely pass for a member of the IRA). He's currently the superintendent of a cemetery and crematory, but before that he started out as a gravedigger. I remember being&amp;nbsp;five or six years old and going to work with him on Saturday mornings and riding my bike around the cemetery. Then when I was older and in college, I worked for him delivering cremations or doing secretery work. I'd have to read through the death certificates and plug information into the computer, and I remember being so intrigued reading the cause of death. Cardiac arrest. Cerebral hemorrhage. Respiratory Arrest. &lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;It's funny how something that we all literally have in common, is such a sensitive subject for most people. It's that dreaded conversation you wish you never have to have with your sick patient, uttering those powerful words, "You are going to die." And then the even worse conversation you have to have with the family afterwards where you tell them that their loved one has passed. But as doctor's we're so afraid of dealing with the dying part of our job. We put so much into taking care of our patients and trying to prevent death, that admitting a patient is going to die almost feels like a failure on our parts. But I'm learning more and more that actually accepting that your patient is terminal and then making a conscious decision to help them during their process of dying is one of the most important roles you have as a physician.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;I recently had a patient with severe congestive heart failure. I saw him a total of two weeks in the hospital. He was my first patient I'd round on every morning because he was my sickest patient. I'd check his labs, check his vitals, talk to his&amp;nbsp;nurse about how he did overnight, and then finally go in the room to ask how he was feeling and examine him. I'd then sit down and write my note on him which always ended with my treatment plan. And each day it became harder and harder to come up with a plan, mostly because we did everything already to try to help him. I consulted all the speciatly docs, I ordered all the labs, I ran all the tests. It eventually came to the point where I just didn't know what to do anymore. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Then one morning his nurse asked me about having the palliative care team come in. And she was right. I'd done my job up to this point and it was time to change my train of thought from helping him live to helping him die. I've never worked with the palliative care team before or really knew what they did. It was quite an eye opening experience. They're job is to speak with the patient and get an idea of what they really want out of their remaining time. Whether it's to just be "comfortable" and pain free or to have more aggressive measures taken to prolong their life. And whichever way the patient decides,&amp;nbsp;they try to support their wishes as best as possible. But therein lies the point. The patient chooses how to die. They have the control and we, as doctors, simply help them with that. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;After the palliative care team got involved and I sat down and spoke with the family in great detail, the decision was made for him to go to hospice. The day I discharged him to go, I went into his room to examine him one last time. I remember he looked more peaceful than I have ever seen him. There was calming music playing, the lights were dimmed, he was sleeping comfortably. I wished him well and said it was pleasure taking care of him. Then his sister pulled me aside and thanked me for all I'd done. I said I wish I could have done more, but she said I'd done more for him by helping him be comfortable and die peacefully.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hC7zTGSxRag/TxiQetKxQTI/AAAAAAAAAME/KfyHv1R0cks/s1600/leftCol_main_hospice.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="189" nfa="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hC7zTGSxRag/TxiQetKxQTI/AAAAAAAAAME/KfyHv1R0cks/s320/leftCol_main_hospice.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This experience has made me realize that we can do everything in our power to prevent someone from dying. We can pump them full of fluids, puts tubes in their chest, shock their heart, inject hundreds of drugs.... but despite all that, death is inevitable. The greatest courtesy we as physicans can bestow on our patients is to talk to them about dying. What would their wishes be? By doing heroic measures are we really improving their quality of life or just prolonging life? Every patient should be given the opportunity to die the way they chose to and to hopefully die peacefully and comfortably. And it's the doctor's job to help them get to that point. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/557657457146237707-5099439341047012731?l=medstudentmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/5099439341047012731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2012/01/death-and-dying.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/5099439341047012731?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/5099439341047012731?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2012/01/death-and-dying.html' title='Death and Dying'/><author><name>MedStudentMommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12188364310947763785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b1CpG2qQ9KY/TcNIIdHT4WI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DeEnX04cgqs/s220/DSCN1218.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hC7zTGSxRag/TxiQetKxQTI/AAAAAAAAAME/KfyHv1R0cks/s72-c/leftCol_main_hospice.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;Ck4AQHY7eCp7ImA9WhRWE0o.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-557657457146237707.post-5056881929653000882</id><published>2011-12-31T14:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-31T14:35:41.800-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2011-12-31T14:35:41.800-08:00</app:edited><title>New Year's Step 1 Boards Study Pack Give-A-Way!</title><content type='html'>In an effort to continue de-hoarding my house, I've decided to give away some of those big fat medical books that crowd my bookshelf. So in hopes that other medical students read my blog, I'm giving away a Step 1 Boards study pack. It includes.....&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;First Aid for the USMLE Step 1&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g_ZcSRi27rw/Tv-LrMJk_II/AAAAAAAAAL8/p2mruVP8xNU/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g_ZcSRi27rw/Tv-LrMJk_II/AAAAAAAAAL8/p2mruVP8xNU/s200/images.jpeg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;First Aid Organ Systems&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Xjr_elc0Zis/Tv-Lq3DkbNI/AAAAAAAAAL0/1CCOYCrsPLo/s1600/images-2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Xjr_elc0Zis/Tv-Lq3DkbNI/AAAAAAAAAL0/1CCOYCrsPLo/s200/images-2.jpeg" width="144" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;Kaplan USMLE &amp;nbsp;Step 1 question book&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AWLwyx-XHeU/Tv-Lql-WdsI/AAAAAAAAALs/eFVjcPdYK3s/s1600/images-1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AWLwyx-XHeU/Tv-Lql-WdsI/AAAAAAAAALs/eFVjcPdYK3s/s200/images-1.jpeg" width="153" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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All you have to do to qualify to win is join my blog, leave a comment on this post, and tell me why YOU deserve these books. Studying for boards sucks, and if you could save some money on study material then hopefully it can relieve some of the stress!&lt;br /&gt;
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Deadline is January 31st.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/557657457146237707-5056881929653000882?l=medstudentmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/5056881929653000882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2011/12/new-years-step-1-boards-study-pack-give.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/5056881929653000882?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/5056881929653000882?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2011/12/new-years-step-1-boards-study-pack-give.html' title='New Year&apos;s Step 1 Boards Study Pack Give-A-Way!'/><author><name>MedStudentMommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12188364310947763785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b1CpG2qQ9KY/TcNIIdHT4WI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DeEnX04cgqs/s220/DSCN1218.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g_ZcSRi27rw/Tv-LrMJk_II/AAAAAAAAAL8/p2mruVP8xNU/s72-c/images.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;A08FQHY-fCp7ImA9WhRWEkQ.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-557657457146237707.post-5189953803758813506</id><published>2011-12-30T18:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-30T18:50:11.854-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2011-12-30T18:50:11.854-08:00</app:edited><title>What's in Your White Coat?</title><content type='html'>The infamous white coat. That which separates doctors from the rest of the world. If you go into medicine for the sole purpose of donning this status symbol, then clearly you're in the wrong profession. Most doctors hate even wearing the thing. It's bulky, thick, uncomfortable.... it makes you sweat way more than you should and the weight of it causes neck and back aches like you wouldn't believe. So what's so special about a white coat? Well, nothing really. What's really special is what's in it.&lt;br /&gt;
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As I was going through my bag of "doctor" stuff that I usually bring with me to work, I pulled out my white coat. It's a short one, of course, since I'm still a medical student. Real doctors get to wear the long ones. Anyways, after noticing that it was quite dingy and needed a good bleaching, I started to take everything out of the pockets. I noticed that I carry A LOT of stuff in my white coat. And because I know you're all sitting on the edge of your seat in suspense, I'll tell you what I found.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oRmUwXHdmXk/Tv52f7SYveI/AAAAAAAAALg/NR2yprZaojA/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oRmUwXHdmXk/Tv52f7SYveI/AAAAAAAAALg/NR2yprZaojA/s200/images.jpeg" width="121" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;b&gt;Pocket Medicine.&lt;/b&gt; I recently got this for Christmas. It's basically the bible for any physician doing an inpatient rotation. Need to know which drugs to give a patient in heart failure? It's in there. How about the diagnosis and treatment of Rocky Mountain spotted fever? Yep, you can find that too. Why I waited so long to finally get this is beyond me, but I'm sure I will get ample use out of it next month on rotation.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PYc4-MQaZvE/Tv52fJdsw7I/AAAAAAAAALI/WOhDCwy1hOo/s1600/images-1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="179" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PYc4-MQaZvE/Tv52fJdsw7I/AAAAAAAAALI/WOhDCwy1hOo/s200/images-1.jpeg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;b&gt;White Coat Clipboard.&lt;/b&gt; This thing is pure genius. It's a clipboard that folds in half and fits quite perfectly in your white coat pocket. I've seen residents and students everywhere I go with these things and decided to scour every office supply store in the state for one. Luckily, one of my best friends who is quite savvy at finding stuff on the internet found that one company actually has a monopoly on these things. A few weeks later I got a nice surprise in the mail and now I have one of my own! Perfect for taking notes on rounds.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;ACLS card&lt;/b&gt;. In the hospital you certainly never know when you're going to hear the words "code blue" come over the intercom. That's when I go running. The only way to get good at running a code is to watch them. And on the off chance that I get to participate in resuscitating someone, it's good to have a cheat sheet of drugs and protocols for when you're brain gets overloaded. Every doctor has one of these in their pocket. Trust me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lx7NEIPiL-k/Tv52fvYn7GI/AAAAAAAAALY/WtT_IAmxaSA/s1600/images-3.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lx7NEIPiL-k/Tv52fvYn7GI/AAAAAAAAALY/WtT_IAmxaSA/s200/images-3.jpeg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Stethoscope. &lt;/b&gt;Usually it's around my neck, but occasionally it's in my white coat pocket. No brainer.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;iPhone. &lt;/b&gt;Quite possibly one of my greatest tools. I'm sure most of you have a smartphone and, like me, completely rely on it for everything and anything. The best thing about my iphone is all the great medical apps that I have. Most importantly being Epocrates, where I can look up every single drug and dosage that there is. Also, my Medcalc which allows me to calculate any medical formula I may need. Not to mention just having internet at your fingertips. The biggest problem is, trying to not be glued to your phone. I make it a rule to never take my phone out in front of a patient and to only use it for medical stuff when I'm working.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;Maxwell Quick Medical Reference&lt;/b&gt;. Another small pocket book of must-knows for any physician. I use it mostly to quickly check normal lab values and to see what needs to be included on admitting orders or discharge summaries.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;Odds &amp;amp; Ends. &lt;/b&gt;Chapstick, mints, plenty of pens, notebook of important things I learn, Luna bar, patient list. All very important.&lt;br /&gt;
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By now you probably think that I couldn't fit anything else in there! You'd be surprised. By the end of the day I end up with random things like alcohol swabs, gloves, masks, more pens, tons of notes, those little plastic pieces that go on the end of an otoscope..... I know it's a lot, which is why wearing the darn thing is so uncomfortable just due to the sheer weight of it all, but quite honestly I don't know what I'd do without it. If I didn't wear my white coat, I'd have to carry a backpack.... or a fanny pack, which is definitely a no-no!&lt;br /&gt;
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For all my doctor friends out there, I'll ask you. What's in your white coat?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/557657457146237707-5189953803758813506?l=medstudentmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/5189953803758813506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2011/12/whats-in-your-white-coat.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/5189953803758813506?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/5189953803758813506?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2011/12/whats-in-your-white-coat.html' title='What&apos;s in Your White Coat?'/><author><name>MedStudentMommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12188364310947763785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b1CpG2qQ9KY/TcNIIdHT4WI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DeEnX04cgqs/s220/DSCN1218.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oRmUwXHdmXk/Tv52f7SYveI/AAAAAAAAALg/NR2yprZaojA/s72-c/images.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;DEEMSHszeSp7ImA9WhRXGU8.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-557657457146237707.post-5790483008099588200</id><published>2011-12-26T11:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-26T11:11:29.581-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2011-12-26T11:11:29.581-08:00</app:edited><title>Happy Holidays!</title><content type='html'>Well even though I was apparently on Santa's "nice" list since I got so many amazing gifts this Christmas, I was actually pretty naughty because I haven't written much this month! But I'm sure anyone can attest that December is such a stressful month. And where I was already so busy with my residency interviews, preparing for Christmas made it that much more difficult to sit down at the computer for more than five minutes and come up with something productive to say.&lt;br /&gt;
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In the midst of all my interviews, I had to prepare for Christmas. First order of business was to attempt Black Friday shopping for the first time. I've never done it before, but I thought since now we have a child to buy for and I don't exactly have that doctor salary yet, we should try to score some deals. I dragged my poor husband to Toys R Us Thanksgiving night. My secret plan was to wait until the store opened at 9pm, then just hop in line as the people were piling into the store. What I didn't plan for was that they only allowed so many people in at a time. So we waited. Outside. In the cold. For an hour and a half.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
After all the waiting and freezing, we finally got in. "Hooray! Time to shop!" I thought. My idea of Black Friday shopping fun soon sizzled as we realized we could barely even move around the store. Not to mention, all the toys on our list weren't even on sale! We seriously paid full price for almost everything. And the only reason we did it was because we waited outside for so long that we felt stupid leaving with nothing. I guess I should have done my homework ahead of time to find out what was on sale and what wasn't. Well, I had the last laugh when I went back last week and had a bunch of the items price adjusted for their later sale price. Bwahaha.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Next on my list of must-do's this holiday season was to get Killian to take a picture with Santa. Last year worked out well. He didn't cry at all, and we got a good picture. This year was a much different story. We traveled all the way to the Burlington mall since I've heard they have the "king" of all Santa's there, and boy was he a good-looking Santa. He might as well have been Freddy Kreuger though, because as we inched closer and closer towards him, Killian clung tighter and tighter. And even though the scary fat man in the red suit offered him a candy cane, he still screamed bloody murder when I tried to sit him on his lap. No picture.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iMH4HuqQpEY/Tvi-eyowTqI/AAAAAAAAAK0/ysIBJNXtILg/s1600/DSCN2151.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iMH4HuqQpEY/Tvi-eyowTqI/AAAAAAAAAK0/ysIBJNXtILg/s200/DSCN2151.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It was soon time for my parent's annual Christmas party, which is the most anticipated event of the year. &amp;nbsp;My cousin dresses up as Santa and hands presents out to every kid there. I thought it was the perfect opportunity to get a picture with Santa since he'd see all the other kids interacting with him and not freaking out. He didn't cry, but couldn't stop touching Santa's beard long enough to get a great picture. I finally gave up and decided to just enjoy the party.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RXgr9nomm4M/Tvi-heuXzPI/AAAAAAAAAK8/eb0Iu0yIprU/s1600/DSCN2178.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RXgr9nomm4M/Tvi-heuXzPI/AAAAAAAAAK8/eb0Iu0yIprU/s320/DSCN2178.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Then Christmas came! This year was Killian's second Christmas. Last year was memorable because it was his first, but this year was even better because he could actually understand it a little more. My husband and I went a little overboard picking out Christmas gifts for him this year, but it was all worth it to see the excitement Killian had when saw the riding pirate ship sitting under the tree or unwrapped his Rock Star Mickey. Of course "santa" (and the grandparents) spoiled the crap out of him, but I think he just as much enjoyed being around our families and all the attention he got.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I feel so incredibly lucky right now, not because I finally got a Kitchenaid mixer, but because I have a healthy, happy family that I got to spend some extra time with this month. Then next month it's off to another rotation doing inpatient medicine. I'll be sure to have lots of stuff to blog about once I'm back in action playing doctor. Anyways,&amp;nbsp;I hope all of you enjoyed your holiday, whether it's Christmas, Hanukah, or Kwanza. All that really matters is spending time with family and remembering the things in your life that make it all worth it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/557657457146237707-5790483008099588200?l=medstudentmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/5790483008099588200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2011/12/happy-holidays.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/5790483008099588200?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/5790483008099588200?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2011/12/happy-holidays.html' title='Happy Holidays!'/><author><name>MedStudentMommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12188364310947763785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b1CpG2qQ9KY/TcNIIdHT4WI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DeEnX04cgqs/s220/DSCN1218.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iMH4HuqQpEY/Tvi-eyowTqI/AAAAAAAAAK0/ysIBJNXtILg/s72-c/DSCN2151.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;A0QDQ3g4cSp7ImA9WhRXEk8.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-557657457146237707.post-8789727819881781930</id><published>2011-12-06T19:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-18T09:29:32.639-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2011-12-18T09:29:32.639-08:00</app:edited><title>Hi, my name is Maria. I want to be a resident at your program.</title><content type='html'>"Hi. My name is Maria. I'm from UNECOM. It's an osteopathic school in Maine. Yes, there's a medical school in Maine." I can't even tell you how many times I've had to say those words over the last few weeks. Residency interview season has officially kicked off. If you happen to be in a hospital this time of year and see a small group of people being herded around, all dressed in black or navy suits with a deer-in-headlight expression on their faces, then that's me and a bunch of other exhausted, freak-out med students. We're the interviewers.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;Each interview is kind of like going on a mini vacation.&amp;nbsp;You get put up in a swanky hotel or bed and breakfast. Well, most of the time. There was one hotel that I stayed at where I'm pretty sure I saw a hooker check into as well. You get your&amp;nbsp;fair share of free meals. The night before each interview the residents either host a dinner at their house or take you out to dinner so that you can get to know them better and ask questions about resident life. It's been a really great way of hearing candidly from the residents about how they like the program and most importantly, how happy they are. What I'm finding out more and more is that the resident dinners are actually one of the most important parts of the whole interview process because these are the people you will spend the next couple years with, and it's good to see if you mesh well with them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;The interview day itself isn't much different program to program. You get up early, meet at the hospital or clinic, have a brief intro, interview, free lunch, then tour. Usually there's three or four interviews with a mixture of residents, faculty, and the program director. The best thing about interviewing for a family medicine residency is that the interviews are a lot less stressful than if you were going into a more competitive field. They're usually more of a conversation, rather than being grilled about your credentials or being pimped with medical questions. Usually I leave the interviews feeling pretty good about myself because I have to repeatedly talk about my accomplishments and what my good qualities are. And hopefully I've made a good enough impression so that the residency director, faculty, and residents all would like to work with me in the future.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
You may not think so, but going on interview after interview is quite tiring. It takes a lot out of you trying to sell yourself and being upbeat all day long. You meet so many people, who's names I can barely keep straight. You're constantly being asked questions like "Where do you see yourself 10 years from now?" or "What are your faults?" and my favorite "Do you have any questions for us?" Most people like to prepare for interviews by practicing answering questions. For me, I thought it was counterproductive to do so. I never wanted my answers to come across as rehearsed or cookie-cutter. Besides, the last decade of my life has been preparation for this. If I don't know the answer to "Why did you want to become a doctor?" by now, then I'm clearly in the wrong profession.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iHy-DUz_nhk/Tu4haz7uF1I/AAAAAAAAAKg/qtbxdXJCfsY/s1600/images-1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iHy-DUz_nhk/Tu4haz7uF1I/AAAAAAAAAKg/qtbxdXJCfsY/s1600/images-1.jpeg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The thing is, even though I'm the one being interviewed, I'm actually interviewing them as well. Sure, I'm lucky to get any sort of job really, but I'll be committing the next three years to a residency program and I want to make sure it's somewhere I'll fit in, get a good teaching experience, and become the best doctor I can be. Not to mention, I have to consider what's best for my family. Is the program family-friendly? Is there good childcare in the area? Will they be flexible if I have an emergency at home? I've always said that being a doctor, as important as it is to me, is just a job. My family is my life. So I need to be somewhere that promotes that same mantra. Which is a big reason why I'm going into family practice to begin with. We're families treating families. And hopefully you find a good enough residency program where the people you work with become your family as well...... I could only be so lucky.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/557657457146237707-8789727819881781930?l=medstudentmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/8789727819881781930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2011/12/hi-my-name-is-maria-i-want-to-be.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/8789727819881781930?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/8789727819881781930?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2011/12/hi-my-name-is-maria-i-want-to-be.html' title='Hi, my name is Maria. I want to be a resident at your program.'/><author><name>MedStudentMommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12188364310947763785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b1CpG2qQ9KY/TcNIIdHT4WI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DeEnX04cgqs/s220/DSCN1218.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iHy-DUz_nhk/Tu4haz7uF1I/AAAAAAAAAKg/qtbxdXJCfsY/s72-c/images-1.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;CkAERHo7eCp7ImA9WhRREUo.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-557657457146237707.post-8358725560100826693</id><published>2011-11-24T13:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-24T13:38:25.400-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2011-11-24T13:38:25.400-08:00</app:edited><title>Full of Thanks</title><content type='html'>I hope you are all having a wonderful Thanksgiving. I spent the day with my hubby, my little man, my parents, and my cousins. We stuffed our face with turkey and then stuffed some more with some italian pastries and pumpkin pie. Just being together with my family after such a long busy month on rotation is the greatest blessing I could have. And as always, this holiday always reminds me of the things I'm grateful for in life. I thought I'd share a few....&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
J Crew jeans (best fit for my post-pregnancy body)&lt;br /&gt;
Starbucks coffee&lt;br /&gt;
Tripoli's pastries (which I picked up yesterday for desert)&lt;br /&gt;
Grey's Anatomy (the show, not the book)&lt;br /&gt;
Netflix&lt;br /&gt;
Good mascara&lt;br /&gt;
Red wine&lt;br /&gt;
Cowl neck sweaters&lt;br /&gt;
Christmas music on the radio more than a month before Christmas&lt;br /&gt;
Facebook&lt;br /&gt;
Stawberry frosted donuts&lt;br /&gt;
Dave Matthews Band&lt;br /&gt;
My iPhone&lt;br /&gt;
Passing my board exams&lt;br /&gt;
My amazingly smart, beautiful friends... no matter how far or near they are&lt;br /&gt;
My healthy, happy, snuggly little boy&lt;br /&gt;
My wonderful parents, who are also the best baby-sitters ever&lt;br /&gt;
My super supportive, loving, handsome husband who I love more and more every day&lt;br /&gt;
And of course, surviving four (actually five) years of medical school&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-R_h0uGMBFu8/Ts65E0si4AI/AAAAAAAAAKY/6XD_muwJnDU/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-R_h0uGMBFu8/Ts65E0si4AI/AAAAAAAAAKY/6XD_muwJnDU/s1600/images.jpeg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;What are you all thankful for?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/557657457146237707-8358725560100826693?l=medstudentmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/8358725560100826693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2011/11/full-of-thanks.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/8358725560100826693?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/8358725560100826693?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2011/11/full-of-thanks.html' title='Full of Thanks'/><author><name>MedStudentMommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12188364310947763785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b1CpG2qQ9KY/TcNIIdHT4WI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DeEnX04cgqs/s220/DSCN1218.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-R_h0uGMBFu8/Ts65E0si4AI/AAAAAAAAAKY/6XD_muwJnDU/s72-c/images.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;C0ABSH84fip7ImA9WhRREU0.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-557657457146237707.post-31960483812022620</id><published>2011-11-23T18:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-23T18:29:19.136-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2011-11-23T18:29:19.136-08:00</app:edited><title>I Will Shelter You</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1t23-7FPjYQ/Ts2qUFWgyQI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/6l_RED7WGNA/s1600/find_a_homeless_shelter_001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1t23-7FPjYQ/Ts2qUFWgyQI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/6l_RED7WGNA/s320/find_a_homeless_shelter_001.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yesterday I spent my evening working at a homeless shelter, tending to the medical needs of the people staying there. I really had no idea what to expect going in. I've never been to a homeless shelter and here I was going to one of the roughest ones in one of the poorest cities in the state I was in. It was a "wet shelter", meaning that it's not required to be clean to stay there. So many, if not close to all, of the occupants were under the influence of some sort of substance. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared going in.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There were about 30 people getting ready to bunk up for the night in a mere double wide trailer. We got there as they were serving dinner, and there was a coordinator there keeping a running list of the people who wanted to sit with the doctor to discuss any medical issues they may have. It was my job to get their vitals and interview them beforehand, finding out what their main complaint was and what actually brought them here. Most of the patients had common complaints like colds or ear infections. And since we didn't have the resources to do any real work up like get a chest x-ray or blood work, we'd just use our best judgment and give them a prescription if necessary.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There were a lot of musculoskeletal complaints, which is hard to really address in this sort of population because you have to be weary of drug-seeking. We never actually prescribe anything more than Tylenol or Ibuprofen. I actually tried to do some OMT on a woman with back pain, but given that we didn't even have a treatment table, it was quite difficult.&amp;nbsp;Sadly there was also a pregnant girl who hadn't received any prenatal care. It's hard enough being pregnant, but to be homeless and alone is another thing. I felt so bad that there was nothing more I could do for her besides give her something for her nausea and write her a note to be allowed to have crackers and gingerale.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
At first I thought, what could we possibly do to help these people? Here were are, a doctor, an intern, and a medical student. We're seeing these homeless, drug-abusers in a tiny little hallway of a trailer with nothing more than our stethoscopes, a blood pressure cuff, and an otoscope. Clearly they had physical and mental issues that required much more than 10 minutes with us. But I slowly started to learn that even though we certainly couldn't cure their addiction problems or find them a permanent home, just giving them a chance to talk to us, express their concerns, get them any prescriptions they need, and make them appointments at the clinic is really the best kind of health care we could give them at this time.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I got home around 10:30pm last night and was finally able to crawl into my warm bed, lay my head on my pillow, and snuggle up next to my hubby. And as exhausted as I was, I laid awake thinking of the people I met not too long&amp;nbsp;ago and how they're spending the night in a cold trailer, cramped up in tiny rooms together, and not knowing what tomorrow will bring. I couldn't help but be reminded of how very blessed I am to have my family, my health, and a place to call home. I also am very thankful to be given this opportunity to be a physician and be able to do whatever I can to provide healthcare to people who truly need it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/557657457146237707-31960483812022620?l=medstudentmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/31960483812022620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2011/11/i-will-shelter-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/31960483812022620?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/31960483812022620?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2011/11/i-will-shelter-you.html' title='I Will Shelter You'/><author><name>MedStudentMommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12188364310947763785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b1CpG2qQ9KY/TcNIIdHT4WI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DeEnX04cgqs/s220/DSCN1218.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1t23-7FPjYQ/Ts2qUFWgyQI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/6l_RED7WGNA/s72-c/find_a_homeless_shelter_001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;CEcHQ30-fCp7ImA9WhRSGEw.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-557657457146237707.post-4399124936518122397</id><published>2011-11-20T10:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-20T10:00:32.354-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2011-11-20T10:00:32.354-08:00</app:edited><title>Halloween, Medicine, &amp; Interviews.... Oh My!</title><content type='html'>So as you've noticed, I've been quite busy lately which is why I haven't been able to blog for like three weeks. But since Killian's napping and I'm taking a break from school stuff, I figured I'd give you all an update. I've been doing another Sub-I at a potential residency program, and my schedule has just been insane. I'm working 12+ hour shifts, getting up at 5am and getting home at 8pm, which leaves little time to spend with my special guy. So all I really get to do is give him a bath, give him his milk, read him a book and put him to bed. Lots of mommy guilt going on these past few weeks.&amp;nbsp;I made a comment on facebook about how it's been rough working 60 hour weeks and a fellow med student replied that it's not that bad. Well, when you have a 16 month old at home who you have to take care of on top of all the studying you need to do for the next day, it's actually quite exhausting.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My first two weeks of the rotation I've been doing inpatient medicine (meaning, seeing patients in the hospital and not a clinic). It's been quite the transition after doing months of outpatient medicine. In a family practice clinic you treat the most common diagnosis with the most conservative treatment, but working in the hospital you have to always rule out the "worst possible" diagnosis and treat until proven otherwise. It involved ordering lots of tests and labs, managing lots of medications, and making sure the kidneys don't fail!! (If you're in medicine, you understand my lame joke). I also had a couple patients in the ICU die, which is always hard to deal with. Certainly not as hard for the residents who knew them more so that I did.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This past week I've been doing OB, which has been a welcome change. Bringing new life into the world is always exciting. Although, I haven't done OB since having a baby myself and watching my first delivery this week triggered a bit of baby-coming-out-of-the-vagina PTSD. I still can't believe that happened to me. Scary stuff! I also got to assist in a c-section, take care of post-partum moms, and examine newborn babies. It's so rewarding doing OB because I feel like having been in their position myself, I'm more capable of advising new moms with post-partum care. I'm also way more comfortable taking care of the newborns, where two years ago I barely new how to coddle one. I felt like a rock star!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4E4MePa00rQ/Tsk_eftSysI/AAAAAAAAAKI/2u5KabJAJTE/s1600/DSCN2063.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4E4MePa00rQ/Tsk_eftSysI/AAAAAAAAAKI/2u5KabJAJTE/s320/DSCN2063.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On the home front, we got to celebrate Halloween (I know it was three weeks ago, but I was busy!!). Actually, it was two weeks ago because trick-or-treat was post-poned due to a freak snow storm Halloween weekend. We dressed Killian up in his cow costume, pulled him around in a wagon and made him peddle for candy. Bwahaha. And now that we've come down from our sugar-high, we're inpatiently anticipating Thanksgiving and ready to stuff ourselves full of turkey. &amp;nbsp;I love this time of year!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So now that I've filled you in, I should get back to preparing for my first residency interview on Monday. I also have to go to an applicant dinner tonight to meet and chat with all the residents at the program. I'm super anxious to get my first interview out of the way, but so excited to wear my amazing new suit! Wish me luck!! I'll keep you posted on how things go.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/557657457146237707-4399124936518122397?l=medstudentmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/4399124936518122397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2011/11/halloween-medicine-interviews-oh-my.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/4399124936518122397?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/557657457146237707/posts/default/4399124936518122397?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://medstudentmommy.blogspot.com/2011/11/halloween-medicine-interviews-oh-my.html' title='Halloween, Medicine, &amp; Interviews.... Oh My!'/><author><name>MedStudentMommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12188364310947763785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b1CpG2qQ9KY/TcNIIdHT4WI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DeEnX04cgqs/s220/DSCN1218.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4E4MePa00rQ/Tsk_eftSysI/AAAAAAAAAKI/2u5KabJAJTE/s72-c/DSCN2063.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>