a brief message on staying busy.

I like being occupied... and pre-occupied.  Call me hard to please, but I can't stand being left alone to my own thoughts or own little creative activities. Not for too long. I need something more. I like having a full schedule that occupies my time, and then some.

Medical school has filled that schedule --- fulfilled that need.

Sure, I've gotten a little sad at times. Cried a couple times (the post about this will come later).  Thought for a couple of hours that I was giving up my 20s for good, and more days than not, I probably wouldn't get to see the afternoon sun.  Thought I'd be stuck in a lab.. or a hospital.. or a library... and when I'd finally get to go outside before nightfall, I'd have grey hair and I'd still be single, but I'd have an MD to my name. And really, those things might actually be true..

But I've begun to accept it all, and I've come out of it for the better.  I learned something.  

I appreciate the sun more when I don't always get to see her.

I appreciate my free time more when it doesn't come around too often.

When there's a reason to laugh now, I cock my head back and take full advantage.  And when I have time to listen to music, I belt out the words along with it.  I appreciate those opportunities... Sure, before I appreciated them, but not as much.  

There's a reason why it's called gross.

Before I say anything, I want to make it clear that under no circumstance whatsoever will I disclaim any information about the sex of, details of, or anything along those lines about the cadaver.  I am very appreciative to the men and women who have donated their bodies so that we may become well-educated in what is the foundation of our medical careers, and I whole-heartedly respect anyone who plans to do the same one day. This post is simply about my reaction to my lab experience, and nothing further.

I wondered if I'd faint today.  After all, my track record isn't the best.  I've gotten overheated, dizzy, woozy, vision-going-into-a-pin-point, elephant-sitting-on-your-chest over less climactic events.  I surprised myself today though.  We completed step #1 (turning over the cadaver), I walked away, gagged four times, started getting teary-eyed (partially because of the gagging, mostly because I wanted to cry), and then walked back to my lab partners.  All four of them looked pretty concerned.  One of them offered me a bucket, and another promised that he'd catch me if I fainted.  I decided then and there that there wouldn't be any fainting... Momma didn't raise a pansy ass.