Need A Netflix Fix?

Whoa! So sorry it's been this long since I last blogged. My excuse is that I was out of town (hiking in Boulder, CO! Awesome!) and then came home with a brewing cold (damn those dirty airports!) and then, well...I had writer's block. I tried and tried to think of something thought-provoking, timely, pertinent, or witty and came up empty again and again. As I was complaining about my scarcity of creative juices to my husband, he flippantly said "Why don't you write about your favorite movie?". And I thought, perfect. The movie I have in mind is both pertinent and thought-provoking and somewhat timely as it came out in 2008. This film is a take your breath away, punch in the gut, nauseating emotional roller coaster and I highly recommend it. I dragged my husband to see it on an icy weeknight last spring and I still don't think he's completely forgiven me.

The film is a documentary called Dear Zachary: A Letter to a Son About His Father. The brief premise (no spoilers here) is that the filmmaker's best friend, a Family Practice resident in Pennsylvania, is brutally murdered by his ex-girlfriend. This ex-girlfriend reveals after the murder that she is pregnant with his child, Zachary. The filmmaker knows that Zachary will never know his father so he sets out to make a documentary about his life by interviewing everyone who ever knew him. Meanwhile the murder investigation is still going on...If you can resist, don't read anything else about the movie before you see it. It is most powerful if you go in not knowing what to expect. You might sob uncontrollably. But it is so worth it.

Old Habits Die Hard

Have I mentioned yet that I love Fall? I love the weather, the leaves, the back-to-school sales, the food. Not to mention that my 1st wedding anniversary is coming up this fall. One thing I haven't gotten used to since making my move from Arizona to Illinois is the change in my outdoor activities. See, in Arizona people take the summers off from outdoor sports due in part to the very real risk of death from heat exhaustion. Third degree burns from a seat belt is not an unheard of occurrence. You've heard that people in AZ can bake cookies on the hood of their car in summer right? Anyway, I would cut back on my running and resign myself to exercising in the gym. My friend Barry always laughed at me when I heralded the "start of the running season" come mid-September. Right about now in fact, when it is cool enough to run outdoors at 6am and not die. I practically bounded down our running path because I missed it so much over the summer.

The opposite phenomenon occurs here in Chicago. People come out in the summer in droves. Most major races are in the fall assuming a summer well spent outdoors training. See, I just can't get my head around that. I do my best running Oct-April. Old habits die hard. So what did I do this summer during my running hiatus? Bikram yoga. If you are unfamiliar with this particular form of torture, errr, exercise, let me enlighten you (so to speak). Picture a large room heated to 105 degrees and 40% humidity, lots of scantily clad people dripping sweat while folding their bodies into vertebrae-curling, tendon stretching, muscle-quivering positions and holding them. For an hour and a half. Hmmm, well I do enjoy a challenge. My goal was to do this class everyday for a month. That lasted about 2 weeks. What they don't tell you is that along with the enlightenment, serenity and peace you feel comes a boatload of laundry. A towel to lay on your mat, a towel to wipe your face, a towel to dry off after class (because the other ones are soaked), a change of clothes (because who wants to ride the bus soaking wet? I don't and neither does the person sitting next to me), then another change of clothes because the clothes you rode home in have become soaked because you can't stop SWEATING. See what I mean? I actually liked Bikram yoga and plan on trying it again someday when I don't have to ride the bus home (I have my limits). But what I really got out of taking that class, what I earned was a new appreciation for running. I missed it so much, just like the old days back in Arizona. Now when I head out to the park for a run in the chill evening air I feel that old giddiness. Welcome to the start of my running season. Bring it on.

Remember When?

There are moments in which I am reminded of the passage of time, and the increasing speed with which this occurs as I get older. Remember when the world seemed pretty much the same to you when you were age 10 as when you were 9? And then when you were 12? Sure your body and your friends may have been different, but the world was essentially the same. The same actors were hot. The same bands were cool. The same man was President. This summer, I realized the world was essentially different. This began with the death of Michael Jackson. So much of my childhood involved idolizing him. My younger brother used to 'dance' like Michael for the rest of my family in our living room and he always thought we were laughing because he was so good at dancing. But reality was he was just so damn funny trying to be MJ. Patrick Swayze died today. One summer, my sister and I made it a point to watch Dirty Dancing everyday. I'm not sure why, it was just something we had to do. Chevy Chase is playing a part in a new TV show premiering this Fall. Again, the Vacation and Fletch movies have singlehandedly allowed my brother and sister and I to have conversations composed entirely of movie quotes. Now Chevy looks like a puffy, squinty-eyed, snow-haired version of himself. Barely. But in a good way.

When those figures who defined your youth are gone, is your youth gone too? And if it is, did you send it off with fantastic fanfare? Or did you let it trickle away like the bathwater through a hair clogged drain? Call a friend or a brother or a sister. Play the 'remember when' game. If for nothing else than to celebrate that while the world is changing, the best things remain the same.

Winds of Change

At what point does one go from being "with it" to being "old school"? I guess I should know the answer to this question because clearly I passed it a few years back. Let me paint the latest scenario for you...I taught my first Problem Based Learning (PBL) session today for second year medical students. What a fun experience! It was so refreshing to be among students who really get excited to use such terms as tachycardia and hypotension and who volley back and forth the merits of exotoxin vs endotoxin in the production of fever with as much fervor as a Wimbledon match. I sat back in my chair beaming like a proud grandparent much of the session. But the fact that I am a good ten years older than all of them doesn't bother me, I hardly notice. No, here's what did it. We had a tutor kick off meeting before the actual sessions began. The PBL coordinator started talking about different technological resources to utilize in order to enhance our interactions with the students. Then, out of her mouth came the words Twitter, mesh terms, portal, and RSS feeds. I know about half of you reading this blog are thinking "Yeah, so what?" and the other half will understand when I say I began to feel like I had missed that lecture and there was now going to be a quiz.

I know what Twitter is. Scratch that, I've heard of Twitter but never actually used it. I find it vaguely uncomfortable to say things like twitter and tweet and take myself seriously. Thus, I have found a way to exist happily without it. And that's not all. I only recently created a Facebook page after increasing levels of peer pressure. Mostly I look at other people's pictures. I did not have a Palm Pilot in medical school or residency. I do not have a Blackberry, iPhone, iTouch, and only use my iPod on shuffle when I run. I prefer books and paper to screens and stylets. My white coat pockets were always stuffed with reference books and notes and never once did I fall victim to a dead battery when I needed information. My cell phone does not have a camera, a keyboard, internet access or the ability to make playlists. In fact, it was free with my phone plan and was once lost by Wrigley Field and returned to me the next day by someone who tracked me down. The thing is the size of a stick of butter and indestructible.

I used to snicker at my parents and grandparents for being so overwhelmed at the thought of using the internet or paying bills online or downloading pictures from a digital camera. And now I am that person who is frightened by this 'new fangled' technology. When did this happen?! Apparently, if I want to continue down this road to being a clinician-educator, I need to open my mind to the wonders of modern communication. Ok, i'll embrace change if it makes me a better physician. But don't expect me to tweet. That's where I draw the line.