Move over, Emily...

My sister would say that Ms Dickenson has already garnered more than enough exposure in my blog. So we turn now, instead of to a Protestant poet from New England, to a Southern Catholic writer. That's right, Flannery O'Conner. I've read enough of her short stories to appreciate her brilliance, but still find her enigmatic. I once read that it's impossibile to dissect her short stories to find the meaning; the meaning is in the whole. And as a Christian, she invariably includes a moment of grace in her plots. Granted, this moment of grace may be lost on the reader who's swept away in her sea of absurdity, but it's there.

In his book Everyday Apocalypse: The Sacred Revealed in Radiohead, The Simpsons, and Other Pop Culture Icons, David Dark writes, "Whenever someone speaks favorably of Flannery O'Conner, I want to hold their face in my hands and look deep into their eyes to see if I can't detect some maniacally enlightened clarity of vision. If you're not against her, you're for her. And if you're really for her, I can't help but think that you've been, to adapt a phrase Faulkner applied to Joyce, electrocuted by divine fire..."

So I now turn back to Flannery O'Conner as a break from the final chapters of A Brief History of Time. Signing off for tonight...

A shocking lack of cultural sensitivity...

Another call day gone by! For these two first months on wards, that's 11 calls down, five to go. (Not that I'm counting!) Today I had the rather sad task of calling back a concerned 20 year old daughter of a patient and telling her, "I'm sorry, but your mother hasn't given us permission to discuss her medical diagnosis or treatment with you." Evidently there's a lot to the story I don't know, but mother and daughter are somewhat estranged.

Then there's my patient with stage IV gastric cancer. All of our treatment is essentially palliative. He's 41 and has children and a loving wife and brother who are at the hospital every day. I really enjoy going to see him because he's a nice guy and never complains, but I've realized lately that I'm a little in denial about the fact that he's dying. Of course, he's not dying in my world. We've got him nearly stabilized, and he'll be ready to leave the hospital soon, hence exiting my world in pretty good shape. But without realizing it, I've been acting of late that my world is his world. Even though he's stabilized, he's still facing death--likely within months--and I wonder what else I can do to be his physician...

On a lighter note, the title of this entry comes from a story related to me by my hispanic resident. She'd seen one of my patients today after I'd finishd rounding, and called me to ask if I'd noticed my patient's red face. No, I hadn't, it looked fine when I saw her. "Half of her face was all red!" my resident explained. "She said she'd been lying on it."

"Oh, I guess that explains it," I replied. My resident seemed surprised. "Oh...so that really happens with white people?" I assured her that yes, if I were to lie on my face, it would turn red too. There was nothing to worry about. And then of course I teased her, and will probably do so again at least once or twice for her concern about my patient's red face!

New York, here I come! (Part 1)

While I still need to continue my list of "Things I'll miss about this city..." I thought it would be fun to start anticipating the city I'll move to. Several of you know that the residency program I ranked first wasn't necessarily my favorite in and of itself; factoring in the City of New York and proximity to family in Philadelphia, however, gave this program the edge.

The following is a view looking south(west) from the Upper East Side. In the foreground are the Chrysler and Empire State Buildings, and in the distance one can make out the World Trade Center "Twin Towers."

The skyline at night. There's something I love about a city sitting on the water. (My good friend Josh would back me up here.)



So New York...where to start? I am looking forward to seeing friends who've promised they'll come visit. One of my favorite things about the city is its density--the fact that in midtown it's totally normal to be waiting with fifty people to cross the street. And the Juilliard School of Music is definitely a plus; I see myself catching many a recital and concert there.

But for now, we'll talk about the New York City Subways. If you've never been to the city, I think the subways are an integral part of the experience. They allow you to walk to nearly any place in Manhattan. And they expose you to the breadth and diversity of life in this metropolitan behemoth. A word of warning--personal space is more of an abstract idea than a reality. I remember riding during rush hour and realizing that I was touching no fewer than four strangers...and this was normal!

The MTA home page is full of information, but I've gleaned some impressive facts for your perusal.

• More people ride NYC trains than all other commuter trains and subways in the nation combined.
• An average of 7.7 million passengers ride the trains & subways every weekday in New York.
• The subway system annually uses enough power to light the city of Buffalo for a year.
• The fleet travels 347,188,000 miles per year. (Keep in mind that the sun is only 93,000,000 miles from the earth.) It would take light, traveling at the speed of light, 30 seconds to travel this far. Time would essentially slow to a standstill at these speeds.

Bonnie and Clyde

I'm sure that all will recognize this picture:

That's right. It's the hotel room in Columbus, OH, where George and Jennifer Hyatte were recently apprehended by police. (See today's www.cnn.com) I'm sure this one will go down in the annals of photojournalism. Notice the rumpled sheets, the cans of soda and bottled water on the nightstand. It's telling. These weren't just criminals. They were people. Like you and me, they also wondered what kind of free breakfast there'd be the next day; they worried, "How clean are these bedspreads?"

I wonder if they thought to leave a tip for the maid.

A not so hum-drum day...

...would give me plenty of material about which to write a post. Today, however, leaves me struggling to write something that merits the scrutiny of thousands of readers.

Despite my previous resolutions, I decided a 30-minute afternoon nap when I got home at 3:30 would be just the thing to recharge me for the rest of the day. Upon awakening, I was pleasantly surprised to see my friend Adam walk in the door. He, David, and I relaxed in the living room for an hour or so. Turns out my suspicions were correct, per Adam's report: Dave and Louisa are now engaged!!!

The rest of the evening was spent cooking some salmon for dinner, and then reading the New England Journal of Medicine at the library.

Maple-Bourbon Glazed Salmon with Dill Sauce
Mix one tablespoon bourbon with 1/2 cup maple syrup. Glaze a fillet of salmon for thirty minutes after rubbing with salt and pepper. Meanwhile soak a cedar plank in water for thirty minutes. Heat up the gril, and the fish on the plank for approx 25 minutes. Spread leftover glaze liberally over the salmon as it cooks.

For the sauce, mix 8 oz sour cream with 8 oz goat cheese, 1 tablespoon fresh dill, and freshly ground pepper. Spoon over the salmon and serve with lemon wedges.