Nurses are NOT doctors

So one of my friends posted this article on facebook.

http://www.philly.com/inquirer/business/20100808_Nurses_who_are_doctors.html#ixzz0w85yHIRJ

Read it at your leisure, and let me know what you think.

Here's what I think:

Nurses are NOT doctors. Podiatrists are NOT doctors. Optometrists are NOT doctors. A lot of people with a "doctorate" are NOT doctors.

Doctors should only be called doctor if they have an M.D. a MEDICAL degree.

I wrote this post years ago during my third year of medical school ranting about hating nurses. I have since changed my mind as I have had the opportunity to work with GREAT nurses.

And while I appreciate nurse practitioners taking on more responsibility for decision-making, the fact is that the physician (the M.D. doctor) has the final say... and is ultimately the one who will get sued.

Calling anyone else a doctor confuses the crap out of patients, and speaking from first-hand experience, many patients are not the brightest.

I don't like wearing a white coat. I don't need anyone to call me doctor. In fact, it still shocks me when people do. I am a team-player like every physician in every hospital should be.

I don't want to confuse my patient. It's bad enough that they have 20+ medications to take on a daily basis. They should not have 20+ people to call doctor.

Doctor = a high school diploma + a bachelors degree + a medical degree from an accredited 4 year medical school

And even though at that point one earns the title of doctor, one is not officially done until he/she has completed the following: 3 or more years of an accredited residency program + 1-2 years of fellowship if specializing + PASSING the USA board exam(s).

I'm a doctor. I don't feel the need take ownership of that title for myself, but I do feel the obligation to take ownership of that title for excellent patient care.

It's not about hierarchy. It's about doing the job you're doing AS PART OF A TEAM to give the best patient care. Whether you're a doctor, nurse, technician, patient transporter or flower delivery person in the hospital... your focus is (or should be) SOMEONE ELSE.

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Taking a break

Yesterday my horoscope told me to relax and rest in the afternoon/evening... to take a break because life has been overwhelming. Did I listen? of course not.

Yesterday was my day off and the Taste of Colorado was going on. I wanted to go, but of course all my friends or co-workers were working. I should have strolled through the event by myself or just relaxed at home. But of course I posted on craigslist.

I met a hottie and of course have a few men on the back-burner, but today I really started to feel the exhaustion. I am beat. I had to work, then I played in a softball game... and the headache that began earlier in the day got worse.

Blondie wanted to hang out but I canceled on him. I just needed a break. So I popped in some 30 Rock thanks to Netflix and took... a... break.

I am feeling much better, which is good... because tomorrow the German Daddy is taking me out for a nice dinner.

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The Author is just not that into me... I think

I think my last outburst stemmed from me inability to figure out the Author. We have great sex. The kissing is awesome.

BUT

He's only affectionate post-coitus. He won't text/call to say hi. Business is clearly more important.

MAYBE

it's my fault for breaking my age gap interest. I should probably heed to my own advice: dating older is better. The Author is my age... in fact, 6 months younger. I always have griped in the past about guys in their 20s only caring about money. Why suddenly did I think things would be different?

Probably because the Author is actually mature. Ugh... i hate that. Mature yet money-driven. AND YET... still invites me to do things like go on a boat, go to the movies, hang out... only to cancel last minute because he's gotta finish an article or something.

That's probably why I slept with Prosthesis last night. I was hoping maybe we could push forward. He is blond, hot, a former hockey player, older... I had high hopes.

But his pen!s is small. Terrible I know... and I was shocked to bits. Man was I dissapointed. 

What is going on???

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Can I handle this anymore?

Or should I even bother is probably the better question.

It's no secret that I LOVE men... plural.

But the holy trinity thing just hasn't been working out as well as it used to. PitaChips Le Deux broke it off with me a couple days ago. His on/off woman was back on and he really wanted to pursue something with her. Kinda sucks because he was my favorite blond.

The Author and I spent the entire day together on Sunday chillin in his apartment. Sometimes I felt he was distancing himself, other times he would get really close. I can't tell if he's just not that into me or what.

Prosthesis is superbusy, but I ran into him last night on my walk back from dinner. He's a cutie but I'm not sure I'm that into him.

I'm kinda at the crossroads, where I wonder what the heck I'm doing. I have a lot going on with medicine. I'm modeling next week for a benefit. My shopping blog is kinda starting to take off. These should all be great things.

But I can't get rid of my need to have multiple men in my life. I like that they're always there. The beauty of having 3 was that I wouldn't have to overwhelm just one with my desire to hang out often. But that's rarely been my problem since they've always wanted to hang out with me. I wonder if it's something about Denver, but I get the same compliments from men with less attention.

This will probably all pass, but I just wonder if I'm regressing or just refusing to try to be an adult.

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I could never live in LA

I don't want to be a complainer. I feel like no matter where one travels, comparisons will always be made to the home city... or problems will easily be pointed out in the other city.

So let's talk (complain) about LA.

1. Driving: It's bad enough that you MUST have a car in this "city." It's worse when people have no clue what they're doing. I'm pretty sure LA is the only city in the country where you can have traffic at all hours of the day/night. I read a brief study where someone analyzed LA driving on the freeway to determine why there was random traffic. The conclusion: reckless/stupid driving. If one person cuts off another, EVERYBODY slows down. If there is a random car on the shoulder, EVERYBODY slows down to look. It's unbelievable... and true... since I experience it EVERY DAY I'm here.

2. Slowness: I try to appreciate people taking their time to do something... like a detail, oriented task. I can't stand it when everything is done slowly. Food service, driving, talking, walking, thinking. People here... slow. I'm not saying stupid... ok I might be. ;)

3. Men: Hands down, this city has some of the most beautiful people in the country. Unfortunately a lot them are weird. LA attracts a lot of quirky people. It makes sense since that's what will get someone on TV, but it just doesn't fly for dating.

4. People in general: The problem with most people in LA is that they're egomaniacs with no money and quite often adjusted with plastic. Not that money is everything and plastic is terrible... but I love money, I plan on making a ton of it (with my education and not a "big break")... and I'm going to spend it with plastic.

5. Housing: Neighborhoods have names, but they make no sense (except Beverly Hills since that area has gates... no joke). You get such an eclectic mix of socioeconomic status in every neighborhood. And the rent doesn't adjust accordingly... in fact rent is solely based on the upperclass, and all people must pay it.

I'm very happy to get a break from LA when I go to Denver tomorrow!

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Pot Meet Kettle *Guest Blogger!*

The following is post a friend of mine wanted to post on his blog, but due to the vicious attitude of fellow bloggers, he felt it better to get this rant of his chest elsewhere. I have adjusted the post a bit to be fair to all since I don't know the woman of whom he speaks.

Someone should alert Kelly of The Unbearable Heaviness of BEING BLOG  to the fact that exposing someone's HIV status along with his name and the name of his long-term girlfriend is ILLEGAL. I don't know why I read her blog. It's all fun and games until someone loses his/her mind (as my brother says). 

Kelly has lost her mind.

The short story is that some dude she was screwing for 2 years, who was never her boyfriend AND told her to her face that he wasn't monogamous, turned out to have a long-term girlfriend. Outraged that this guy, aka her long-term-f*ck-buddy-and-NOTHING-more, didn't wish to promise his undying love to a mental patient, she did some online sleuthing. She found the girlfriend's information, contacted her... and drama ensued.

The girlfriend, I think, told Kelly that the boyfriend is HIV positive. I say "I think" because there are so many holes in Kelly's story that it resembles swiss cheese. Who knows what is true?

Kelly didn't make the guy wear a condom every time* so I know she's writing this post after the post about her deadly secret. But don't ask her to reveal it!!!! Duh...

In a state of rage one night, she writes a blog post about the guy and his girlfriend, calls them both by their REAL FULL NAMES and states he is HIV positive.

Since she won't shut the f*ck up about it, ANOTHER f*cked-up bully blogger looking for a cat fight writes about the story on her blog and repeats the names along with Kelly's name. Whatever. 

Kelly feels violated. She is a demented hypocrite who needs to get a life and seek treatment before she's homeless and rocking back and forth talking to her hands. There should be a law against bloggers who use their blogs as buly pulpits. Arrest them! Or take away their computers or something. This is out of hand.

*if the whole damn story is true and he is in fact positive AND didn't tell her, then he sucks and should be put in jail alongside her. She says he falsified a test and lied about being positive. I seriously can't keep all the details straight.

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8 sections- 9 hours

I thought there were gonna be 6 maybe 7 sections, but there were 8... 1 hour... sections plus an hour of break time. I brought a can  diet coke but maybe I should have brought two.

So last week I did pretty well on the practice exam. I got 81% of the practice questions  correct. I was hopeful that I could do that or better.

OH MY GOD... doubt it!

There were questions with answers I have never heard of. There were questions that took up a whole page (and thus much of my time). I guessed on many if not most of my answers.

I'm pretty sure I could study for YEARS and still not know many of the questions/answers for this exam.

And you know what... every damn residency committee out there makes me feel like my scores are all that matters.

I asked you all to pray and chant and ask the universe for me to get a 280. I don't think that score is even possible, but a residency director told me that I would only be considered if I got a 260.

Do you know how that makes me feel? It makes me feel like *I* don't matter.

And then I study my a$$ off to answer questions that I would probably never know the answer to even as a top notch doctor.

I wonder if one day this will be worth it... because it's not feeling like it ever has been or ever will be.

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What does it take nowadays?

It's pretty sad that no matter how hard one works or how far one goes in education, it's no longer good enough.

With every radiologist I meet, all make it a point not to get my hopes up. One residency director took a nice shit on me because of my scores. Another tells me I better "stand out" without giving any specifics.

During my surgery rotation (i'll never get over this so suck it up) attendings, residents and nurses loved putting down med students. Granted there's a certain personality type that works in that level of hell, but it is horrible that we have to be subjected to the abuse. 

It destroyed me, and I couldn't be myself for the rest of the year. I was terrified of anyone with a longer white coat or colorful scrubs, and I know it took a toll on my grades. 

In addition, Tufts decided to make it MUCH harder to get honors by reprimanding attendings and putting score requirements for shelf exams. Low and behold, I could never get honors because I could never get the score I needed. 

So now I have nothing to back me up as a person (yes that's what 3rd year grades are supposed to show) when my board scores suck. 

Thanks Tufts. This is why Harvard alumni actually donate back to the school. THEY GOT HELP!

This cycle of deprecation is getting younger and younger. One attending told me that his ENTIRE family went to Tufts and his nephew got rejected. Not that being a legacy should be the only reason for an acceptance, but this is a smart kid! Another attending has a daughter who is a straight A student and directed several school plays, but her guidance counselor told her she had no shot at BU or BC. (WHAT???? BU was my safety!!)

I am afraid to have children in this world because they're going to be almost entirely be judged by numbers. It's just getting worse and worse. WHAT WILL IT TAKE?

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Frying Eggs on the sidewalk

Ok seriously... seriously... why can't Boston weather be normal for once.

Four days ago i was freezing. Now it's in the 90s.

Have I told you I hate summer? I do. I like the sun from inside only.

I don't want the sun on my skin.... hello melanoma!!!

I don't want to sweat... unless it's from a steamy sexcapade.

Enough with the sweltering heat already. I'd kill for some rain to come and cool off this city.

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Kindness is Creepy

I think it's a northeastern thing. Actually I'm sure it is, since it's one of OleMiss's biggest complaints about the north. Women do not know how to appreciate kindness.

I didn't think I was one of them, and I vehemently denied and argued against OleMiss.

Unfortunately I am...

I work at the local gym once in a while, and there is one older gentleman who always takes a couple extra seconds when checking in to wish me a good morning, tell me it's great to see me again and thank me for telling him to have a good work-out.

The extra seconds he hangs around, my guard shoots up. After he left to go work out, I couldn't believe I had felt that way. I almost wanted to yell at him, and for what?? For being a genuinely nice guy.

I started to wonder about why I felt that way, and I guess it's because I'm just expecting that every man is hitting on me. Every man wants to get in my pants. Every man is undressing me with his eyes. I shouldn't trust guys, especially older ones. They're creepy.

Then I felt horrible... I never thought of myself as your average Boston bitch, but I guess I am afterall.

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The Major Con of Internal Medicine

Maybe I lucked out for the past 6 months. Maybe 2008 is a bad year for the rooster. One thing is for sure. This has not been the best start to the new year.

I couldn't believe how nice people were on medicine, like SUPER nice.... the anti-surgery. What I sorta knew but didn't want to believe was how hard internal medicine doctors work. Now I have to live it.

I worked 13 hours last saturday, 5 hours on Sunday and 16 hours just two days ago. I could not wait for the weekend. RedSox was on vacation with his family. He is back today and I just wanted to be with him all weekend, watching dvds and relaxing.

I spent majority of the afternoon waiting to be dismissed. At around 5:30 my intern told me to go home. I did the obligatory and fake "are you sure there's nothing else I can do?" Ready to bolt, I just needed to hear the ok when she said "Nope, I'll see you Sunday."

I didn't move. Sunday? What? Are you freaking kidding me? I just had a black weekend!! My classmate hasn't worked a single weekend day, nor has she stayed passed 7pm on a regular workday!!!!

I calmly questioned the Sunday bit, and she said med students follow the intern schedule. She has to work on Sunday and be prepared because it's going to be another 13 hour day. Faking enthusiasm, I told her I'd see her Sunday.

Then I cried the entire walk home... and because it's raining, no one noticed.

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Surgery Flashback

"I told Dr.K I didn't want medical students, but he's making me take you guys." - Dr. R

That's how my classmate and I were greeted this morning as we started our first day of adolescent psychiatry. Not exactly welcoming, but I chose to ignore that statement. My last two weeks of psych have been awesome, and every psychiatrist I met has involved us med students.

Right after Dr. R said that to us, he went on to teach us quite a bit about adolescents. It didn't seem at all like he didn't want us there, so I actually felt quite comfortable when the time came to see patients.

Our first teenager had run away from home. Through her interview we learned a bit about past sexual and physical abuse, anger towards a parent, trouble with school... the typical profile for a teen psych patient.

When Dr. R finished, he asked the social worker if she had any more questions for the patient. She had a couple. Afterwards, she looked up towards my classmate and me. I wanted some more details on the patient's siblings and home life, so I went ahead and asked questions.

Through my questioning, we discovered some intense physical abuse toward the patient and her siblings. After I finished and the patient left, Dr. R turned towards me and my classmate (but more specifically me) and bitched us out.

"I ask a very specific set of questions. These are MY patients. I don't need a PCP running her mouth asking a whole bunch of questions. It reveals a whole bunch of problems that may need to be addressed, and I've already decided what I want to handle. Asking more questions adds MORE WORK that I DON'T want to do."

I felt like I was back on my surgery rotation. I was flabbergasted and immediately retreated... just like I did on surgery. My classmate, too, was in awe of what just happened. He shut up too.

But I don't regret what I did. The only extra "WORK" I added to his workload was a 2 second phone call to DHS to investigate the situation. How dare anyone complain about something as important as keeping a child safe?

I am beyond shocked at what happens to children that brings them into the psychiatry unit, so there is no way in hell I'm going to shut up when help is available.

Fuck You, Dr. R.

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Temporary Solution

So after a lack of sleep and tons of anxiety, I sent my parents and sister an email:

Mom and Dad,

I do not understand why you must continue to stress me out, but you do. I hate medical school. I have not found anything in medicine I like. I have lost friends because of medical school. I am ONLY in medical school because you two won't shut up if I don't do what you say. I did not get a good score on the boards. I barely passed surgery.

Last week I thought I was going to keep the apartment to myself, but you stressed me out with the roomate situation. I stopped studying until I found one. Now you are stressing me out with rent, and I will not be able to study knowing that this is looming over my head. The landlord doesn't call you. He calls me and takes up my time and my energy and my life.

I am at my breaking point. If you continue to stress me out, I will have to go to the deans and tell them I need to take time off from medical school and possibly quit all-together. I am doing what you want. I don't want to do anything.

Sister called me the second she read the email to say that it was strong but good. Mom called me in the evening out of ear shot from dad telling me that I can't change people. He is the way he is. Just explain things to him and he will back off. She also tried to go on some tangent that would make the situation about her, but I cut her off.

Finally dad called. He played the Idiot card. Rather than call him out, I just called him an idiot. He is sending the other portion of the rent tomorrow.

Problem solved... for now.

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Last night's post

I wrote last night's post in anger. I should probably write a little bit more before everyone jumps on the bandwagon of me quitting medical school because you all only know what I write. Most don't know what it is like to be indian-american. My career is actually the least of the problem.

My rent is $1300. My share with the ex-roomate was $550. My father sent me an email yesterday saying that he only paid the usual $550 for October. "Relax. Wait to see if the landlord says anything. Then we will address it." I was fuming!

To me this is the equivalent of stealing. I called my mom very upset because I have a great relationship with my landlord. He has always been very fare and kind and this could ruin everything.

It set me off because I spend a lot of time SAVING my parents money. I work for a gym so I get membership for free. I go to free parties so I don't spend their money. I date rich men so my parents don't have to pay for my expensive meals.

I have talked to Sister about how much of a hard time I have in medicine. She struggled even more than I did. She failed the boards... TWICE. She had to take an extra year to finish up her program. She didn't match into a residency program. She had hard times in the residency she scrambled to get.

She went through a lot more pressure and bull-shit from my parents and medical staff than I do... but she did it anyways and LOVES her job.

Sister told me that as much as this struggle sucks, it is really worth it in the end. I will find my niche. Every doctor says the same thing. Medical school and residency suck. They're like 7-10years of pledging a fraternity. You go through hell, but the brotherhood is worth it.

The true fear I have is not that I will be a bad doctor or that medicine isn't for me. The honest concern is that I will become my parents... I will do anything to avoid that.

So I will talk to my parents today to see what will be done about the rent. If dad decides not to pay it, then he's an idiot for providing a joint-account and I'll just cut a check from that.

I sent an email to the Chief of Genetics to talk to her and see what I can do, and pending her response I'll talk to the deans and consider taking a year off.

I don't know if what I'm doing is the right thing, but I lost my way a long time ago and it will be tough to find it again.

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An impossible conversation

I'm pretty quick to get over things. Dealing with what happened with ex-Roomate was like getting over a bad break-up. One week later, and I'm totally fine. I've moved on, and I just want to get my life back up and running.

I received the August electricity bill, so I sent ex-Roomate an email telling her what her half is. I don't care if she pays or not, but I still figured I'd try. I also told her that the landlord would like to paint her room in the next couple of weeks. I noticed she had left her room wide open since she was last here and I wanted to know if she planned to leave it open for the landlord.

I received no reply.

Instead I come home after a day of studying and see that the door to her room is now shut... and locked.

No communication whatsoever... just complete and immature action.

So I called the landlord. I asked him if he could change the locks this week instead of at the end of the month. His reply, "Sure I'd be happy to do that. Oh and doesn't your roomate have a lock on her door? Yeah... I'll get rid of that for you too. That's just stupid."

I guess we'll wait and see what happens, because I'm certainly done trying to communicate with an ingrate.

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Question

If you're roomate gives you 2 weeks notice that she is moving out September 1st but says "don't worry, I will pay for september," doesn't that mean she is paying because it is kind and the right thing to do?

I told Roomate on Sunday that I wanted to iron out some details of her move. She avoided me Sunday and Monday, so I wrote her an email asking that she leave her keys under the door when she is finished on Saturday. I also told her that her friend taking the bureau should take it by the end of the day saturday.

I get a livid phone message saying that she has the right to take her time moving out all september long because she is paying for the room. Now I can understand that point of view, but why should I assume that?

So basically I wrote a long-winded email relaying ALL of my feelings. I told her I am very uncomfortable with people coming in and out of the apartment when I am not there. I told that I asked to speak with her in person so we wouldn't have to deal with all of this by email. I told her exactly what I have been telling her all along. COMMUNICATE!

I don't understand why I am the only person asking to talk or making attempts to figure things out. I called her selfish. I called her a liar. I called her out on her "kindness."

She said that if I expect her to be gone by the end of the day on Saturday then I should give her the $750 rent that she paid. I am strongly considering it. It would be undeniably cruel, but it would guarantee my safety and MY place for september.

Thoughts?

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I can't fix it if I don't know it is broken

Roomate and I are officially ex-friends. She informed me by email today. She didn't want to say anything, but I pushed it so she told me her true feelings. She starts out by saying she has tried not to say anything but now she feels she has to.

Well that's a good start...

Bullet Points:
- I bailed on her as a friend when I started dating RedSox
- When I ask her to hang out, it's almost always when she is going to be away
- I invite her to RSVPed events last minute, making her feel like a last resort
- I am so consumed with my own world and everything happening with RedSox
- I only contact her when I want something

Some of the stuff is true. I bailed on her a few times to hang out with RedSox. I apologized and made alternate plans. She never said anything, so I thought my apology was accepted.

When I ask her to hang out, it's because I'm making an effort. I don't really know what to say, but she never said anything... so I had no idea.

I definitely have invited her to promo events last minute after having already RSVPed. I RSVP to everything whether I'm going or not. ALL of my friends know I like to be on the list just in case... and because it's just smart. I invite last minute, because I decide last minute. She never said anything, so it was news to me that she felt like a last call.

I admit to having tunnel-vision. I get consumed with one major life-altering moment at a time, be it medical school, the boards, surgery, etc. RedSox is incredibly patient and a HUGE help... the same way Roomate's boyfriend put up with her law school drama. She blew off ALL her friends and NEVER went out to social events, rarely called people back. I think we're both consumed with our own worlds, which is probably why we got along.

I do NOT only contact Roomate when I want something, unless you count me wanting to know how her first day at her internship went or how her trip to sweden was or how she is doing. Maybe she missed my instant messages wishing her well or my emails asking how things are going.

I guess it's a lesson to me and all of you who read this. If you truly care about your friend, you will tell them how you feel before it is too late. You will not let things build up. You will not let things "get out of hand and try not to say anything"... as she wrote in her email.

I told Roomate I had no idea things had elevated to the extent she conveyed in her email. I told her I wish she had told me, because then I could have worked on things and corrected them sooner.

I can't believe I sat her down last Saturday to talk and she didn't bring this stuff up. I made an effort. Unfortunately it was too late and what has broken will stay broken.

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Placate and Reciprocate, don't Berate

Just when I thought things were on the up, I had to go ahead and get slapped in the face again.

Yesterday my presentation went well. A few surgeons complimented me, and I was feeling good. My classmates and I divided up the mandatory cases and off we went. I had a couple hours before my case, so I took the time to study and "intelligently" prep for the case. You'll get the quotations in a second.

On the way down to the OR, I get a page telling me that one of the chief residents is extremely angry with me for not going to cases in the morning. I can't help but think, What the F? No other OR case was mandatory.

This chief is a total Jekyll and Hyde with us. Our first day he told us to make the most of our time, to learn and get involved in a way that works best for us. I personally told him last week that the OR doesn't work for me, and he told me that I need to find a more intelligent way to prep and get involved when I do go to the OR.

THAT IS WHAT I WAS DOING! I read up on recent studies so that I could ask the surgeon about them. IT WORKED! I had a great conversation and better learning experience during my case.

When I run into the chief later, he tells me that the OR is our #1 priority and we should be there ALL the time. So much for learning the way that works the best for me.

I'm feeling frustrated, but I guess this is the life of a third year med student and I just need to shut up and take it.

Now, while all this is going on, something else is brewing with Roomate.

My memory is shot. My priority is making sure I remember what to do at the hospital and what I have to study. So when I emailed Roomate asking her if she wanted to try a double-date or have a fondue-night this weekend, I'm expecting nothing but a positive response to my attempt at mending our friendship.

Instead I get a curt response saying, "You know I'm gone this weekend right?"

I immediately replied saying, "wow... sorry.. i need to get my head on straight.
Yes you are gone thursday evening until monday/tuesday. I apologize."

Her reply, "No, I think I have told you several times, but I get back Sunday."

Some of you might be reading this as completely harmless emailing, but I felt a very cold and rude vibe from her replies.

I emailed her back.

I told her that it was a momentary memore lapse and I just ran with my excitement about hanging out. I told her about getting berated at the hospital. I told her that I am stressed beyond belief. I told her I would appreciate a little more sensitivity towards my feelings.

I don't know what to say right now. I'm not even sure how I feel. I approached her on Saturday night about moving out and our friendship. I thought everything was cool. I made the attempt to make plans to hang out. I don't like to complain, but I feel like I am doing all the work to mend our relationship.

Honestly, I don't think she wants to be my friend. It's pretty sad and disheartening... and now I'm off to the OR with another red cheek.

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Does my face say "slap me"?

This week ended with a hellish bang. Yesterday I was slapped with a presentation to do at grand rounds on Wednesday (a big deal that includes ALL attendings, residents, etc). I freaked out because I've never done this before, but I know it will be good practice for my oral presentation at the end of surgery... a day I wish was yesterday.

To cool off I went to the sox game with a couple of colleagues, Torch and A-train, and of course RedSox. We had a great time and once again, I was pretty drunk after one glass of wine... but I still had a second glass just to seal the deal.

RedSox left for Chicago this morning, and I went home. Just as I was about to enter my apartment building, Roomate called. I told her I was about to walk in, so I went to straight to her room.

She tells me that she's moving out at the end of the month (12 days).

I felt like I had been slapped in the face. We haven't had the best relationship since she came back from Sweden. I've been at the hospital. She has been at her internship. On the weekends I am with RedSox and she is with her boyfriend. I figured things would get better once she started back up with school.

I tried not to flip out. She told me she would pay rent until October. That's fine, but I don't have time to replace her. I asked her for help looking for a new roomate, so she agreed to come up with a CL ad but I should be the one to interview people. Great. I have one hour between coming home and going to sleep. That is exactly what I want to do with my time... especially when I need to study.

I went to my mom's office to start preparing my presentation. I called my parents and broke down. I hate crying, but I just can't take this anymore.

My parents told me not to get a new roomate or even think about it until surgery is done. If I want to live alone, I can. My mom actually wants me to live alone so she can sleepover occasionally. I felt better.

My sister called me and gave me an exact outline for my presentation. How to present, what to say, everything. Phew!

Now that I have calmed down enough to think, I can't help but still feel like I'm getting slapped in the face. There is still a long road ahead of me and my group of friends is dwindling.

I think I need an ice pack.

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Better Off Alone

I don't think I am relationship material. More and more lately I miss going out, flirting with whomever and trying to hook my friends up. I can't do that anymore... not while in a relationship.

Last night, I went out with a couple of med school friends. I'm half-way through surgery and others had finished a 6 week block. It was party time. I was really happy because I never get to go out anymore. Either I'm tired or anyone I ask is not in the mood.

When Madge asked me to meet up for drinks, I was excited! We were going to a popular place where there were tons of guys and great dancing...

But I had RedSox with me. He is not much of a dancer, so that kinda puts me out of the mood. He wasn't feeling very social, so that again puts me out of the mood.

I finally perked up when my girl Ems wanted a guy. She was being shy and that immediately gave me a mission: I'm gonna hook Ems up. It turned out the guy she wanted was a buddy of one of our friends.

Perfect! I jumped in between the two and started chatting up our friend. That left the guy wide open for Ems to come in. She was holding back so I decided to introduce them. I had to keep our friend away, though, so I kept chatting with him.

RedSox did not like this at all. He took it as me flirting away with another man and got super jealous.

I hate jealousy. I do not flirt with other men to make my man jealous. I flirt with other men to get their friends to flirt with my friends.

I explained this to RedSox, but his feelings had already been hurt. He didn't get it and accused me of being too drunk. That is when I lost it.

There was no screaming match. I'm never interested in public battles. I didn't say goodbye to anyone. I just walked out of the bar and headed back towards his car. He followed. Neither one of us said a word until we got back to his place. I jumped into bed, and that's when he asked if we could talk.

We had a good discussion. I understood his view, and what things looked like to him. I hope he understood my view. I guess we resolved everything. I don't quite remember the convo.

But the whole experience just fuels my desire to go back to being single.

As much as I love RedSox, the thought of being alone doesn't upset me. I have never wanted a boyfriend. I have never needed a relationship.

PLUS, I don't know where residency is going to take me, but I know I'm hoping for NYC, Chicago, DC or Seattle... not Boston.

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