Grey's Anatomy

I recently sent my blog website to an old friend from college who encouraged me to write more. Therefore, I will try to write more frequently.

A nurse recently asked if residency was anything like Grey's Anatomy. Well, let's see. On Grey's Anatomy, an intern dates an attending. In my program, an attending dated TWO residents, both at the same time, without them knowing about each other. On Grey's Anatomy, residents date each other. In my program, two residents not only dated, but recently got married. It doesn't stop there. In my program a hoochie female resident gave a middle-aged, married attending a pair of boxer shorts for Christmas. In my program, two residents got caught doing the horizontal tango in the call rooms. Is my residency like Grey's Anatomy? I don't think so. No one could make this stuff up.

Now for some updates. The intern in a previous blog who was using booty calls as an anti-depressant is now a third year and happily MARRIED (to a different guy). Her classmates are terrified that she will have a baby during residency, and with good reason. Girlfriend is secretly working on that project as I type. Why the secrecy? No one wants their fellow resident to have a baby because it takes them out of work, thus increasing the workload for everyone else. Selfish? Probably. Let he who regularly works 30 hours straight cast the first stone.

My friend who was dating the guy who goes to the LI-BERRY instead of the library is still dating old dude. He now attends her family gatherings like Thanksgiving and Christmas. My friend says that he is super nice and treats her well, but she is still caught up on the class issue. I think she will end up marrying him. She could do a lot worse. She could be with one of my exes.

My Puerto Rican classmate (previously referred to as "PR") who was banging nurses in deserted stairwells is now married to another resident. He seems to worship the ground she walks on. He recently told me that all his beloved had to do to ensure his future happiness was to "stay blond". I'm not kidding. She's a nice girl but has some, er, psych issues. If you look up "bipolar" in DSMV-IV you'll see her picture. Girlfriend had to take time off a few months ago when she cracked up and was on suicide watch. But more importantly, she never changed her hair color.

Practically the day after I wrote my last entry my magnanimous boyfriend broke up with me. It was cool because I had already decided he was a Mr. Right Now and was wondering how I could unhitch him without hurting his feelings. I shouldn't have worried. He ended up dumping me for a surgeon which was astonishing because 1) what were the chances of him dating two black female doctors successively? and 2) ol' dude was dumb as a box of rocks. He was, however, incredibly good-looking.

Then lickety-split I started dating a wonderful man that a friend fixed me up with. He was significantly older and had a 12 year old son that he co-parented with his baby mama. He was smart, emotionally mature and kind. Within months, we were engaged. Then he broke the devastating news that he changed his mind about wanting more children. Since kids are one of the main reasons I want to get married, I knew we had to part ways. We had a painful, but civilized break-up.

That's the update. Perhaps not as entertaining as Grey's Anatomy, but it's all true.

Yesterday, I MATRICULATED to the LI-BERRY

I had an interesting convo with a fellow sista resident the other day. It turns out that we are both dating men who are less educated than we are. Not coincidentally we are both committed to dating within the race in an area that does not accommodate our preference (i.e., more brothers dating/marrying interracially than not).

My friend's man wants to marry her, but she is held back by the class thing. Brotherman is not a college graduate, and he knows nothing of her Jack and Jill world. Furthermore, he fathered a child out of wedlock which some middle-class black folks still find less than ideal. And his baby mama is GHETTO. But the real kicker for my friend is his bad grammar. He says "you and I" when he should say "you and me" and he leaves the first "r" out of "library". For whatever reason this drives her bonkers. She says she just can't see herself waking up every morning with someone who says "LI-BERRY".

My sweetheart has some issues as well. He keeps misusing the words "matriculate" and "magnanimous". Example: "I matriculated across the room". And anything good is "magnanimous". This is like nails on a chalkboard for me. My constant prayer is that he refrain from using these words around my friends. My friend's approach is to constantly correct her man which irritates them both. He chooses not to change his language. My gut tells me not to even broach the subject with my guy. At least not yet.

And then, there is the issue of dealing with the male ego as female doctor. Part of the reason these men are attracted to us is because we are doctors. But it feels weird for us to be giving orders all day and come home to someone who is too stubborn or too insecure to accept even the smallest correction. It's like living a double life. I wonder if these men would be as defensive with us if they felt better about their own accomplishments.

I'll end here. I have to matriculate to work.

Nigerian Scams

Today, during an orientation for my medical mission trip to Nigeria, we were warned against doing two things: giving money to people and falling in love. On a previous mission trip, a Nigerian woman managed to bilk a thousand dollars from the mission team with some sob story about her financial hardship. She took her story to all of the team members individually and received about $100 per person. No one on the team knew that the other team members had given so much money until they got back to the US. When you consider that the average yearly income in Nigeria is $350, this was a hugely successful scam.

Some American woman on the medical team apparently fell in love with a Nigerian man during a previous trip. The two of them made plans to marry. Luckily she found out he already had a wife and kids before she paid for him to come to the US. He was looking for a green card.

I think one has to be very, very careful about becoming romantically involved with someone who might be motivated by the possibility of US citizenship. Just ask Terri McMillan.

Timing is Everything

This week's lesson: uncensored blabbing during sex can create problems. As my best friend recently instructed, "don't let 'I love you' prematurely slip. And if you can't think of a substitute phrase, do a search on the internet or something!"

I have heard a couple of amusing stories about bombs that were dropped in the heat of the moment. A friend of mine was having sex with her boyfriend while straddling him. In the middle of the act, she stopped abruptly and said, "Tyrone, where is this relationship going?" Poor Tyrone, who probably had diminished blood flow to the brain at that moment, blurted "um, toward marriage?" They were married 8 months later. Tyrone's only stipulation was that she hand him back his testicles long enough for him to pick the moment of his proposal.

A male friend recently told me that his ex-fiance proposed to him during sex. They ended up engaged even though he suspected the relationship was doomed. How can you possibly have an emotionally loaded conversation at that moment? One of my favorite lines from Sex in the City: "you're breaking up with me... while you're still inside of me?"

When I first arrived back in Chicago a few days ago I did what I usually do. First stop is Harold's Chicken/Robinson's Ribs/BJ's Market (take your pick) where I acquire a good ol' South Side artery-cloggin'-myocardial-infarction-on-a-platter that is unavailable in New England. Then I plop down in front of my sister's TV (I don't have cable at home), watch music videos, lick the grease off my fingers and wonder why I am fatter than the video hos.

I watched Jessica Simpson, daughter of a Baptist minister, gyrate in front of a car in a string bikini. This in itself doesn't bother me. What's weird is all the publicity about her virginal pre-nuptual status and squeaky-clean image contrasted with her hoochie behavior after the ring. Now that she's having marital relations with her nobody husband it's suddenly okay for her to show the world her ass? God says it's ok to be a hooch as long as you're married but not before? Maybe I should ask her dad. "Excuse me Mr. Simpson, your daughter kinda looks like a slut. No no, don't thank me. Just thought you might want to know."

Don't misunderstand me. I don't have anything against the hoochie-mamas. Smoke 'em if you got 'em, I always say. Just don't wear me out talking about your purity while you do it. It irritates me.

After watching cable for a week I have guilty pleasures other than food. I like 50 cent. He has a face made for the inside of a paper bag but that body... oh yeah, I like the songs, too :)

I like BBC America. Hyacinth Bucket rules!

And then there's Snapped on Oxygen. 'Nuff said.

I still enjoy those birth shows on TLC, even though I do that stuff every day now. I still get all sentimental and misty-eyed when I watch. More confirmation that I chose the right medical specialty.

Sweet Home, Chicago

My next few entries will not have as much residency stuff. I am on an elective rotation. For my elective I have chosen to go to West Africa for a couple of weeks with a medical mission team. The rest of my elective time will be spent doing research. My "research" includes a brief trip to Chicago to study the lakefront in July, daytime TV, and the anatomy of one particular male subject who I like very much.

Coming back to Chicago was interesting. So much has changed. They are building new houses in areas that used to be overrun with crack addicts and prostitutes. And they're asking 400K! The gentrification thing is out of control. I saw white people walking in areas of Woodlawn that still make me nervous.

I was also accosted by people running scams on 71st and Jeffrey. In Dominicks, a man approached and asked if I was paying for my groceries in cash. It turns out he wanted to find out if I had a link card. I didn't talk to him long enough to find out the specifics of his hustle, but I recognized it as such. When I walked out of a Walgreens in the same area, a woman on the street asked me for my receipt, presumably so she could shoplift items from the store.

I just don't remember things being so bad on 71st and Jeffrey. Does something about my appearance or carriage make me an obvious target, as a friend suggested? Or did things get worse during my 6 year absence?

sex, lies, and gonorrhea

So, the other day I admitted a young black woman who presented to the emergency room with acute pelvic pain and cervical motion tenderness. She had pelvic inflammatory disease. As expected, the culture I took in the emergency room was positive for gonorrhea. Since I admitted her I decided I should be the one to break the news to her.

When I walked into her hospital room, her boyfriend was sitting at the bedside, holding her hand and looking soooo attentive. I felt like pointing at him and screeching like in Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Guilty! Ark! Ark! Ark! I kicked him out of her room (okay, I politely asked him to step outside) and told her she had the clap. In fact, her infection was so bad it landed her in the hospital for IV antibiotics and forced her to miss several days of work. "I don't understand," she said, looking genuinely puzzled. "My boyfriend and I have been together for 5 years, and I haven't slept with anyone else." I watched silently as the truth dawned on her. Her expression changed from confusion to hurt to rage in about 30 seconds.

"You can come in now," I told the boyfriend, sweetly.