southern village smackdown

So.....I do love living here in Southern Village, but I have to say....it's definitely not NY. I just had a random lady who lives across the circle knock on my door and ask me if my name was Jaime. I said yes and she proceeds to tell me that the reason she knows that is because I had thrown away a large cardboard box full of stuff this morning. And apparently, we're not allowed to throw away cardboard boxes - we need to break them down and put them in the special cardboard box dumpster. So she goes on to explain that there's a "dumpster monitor" who goes around and actually checks to make sure no one's doing this, and if they are, that dumpster gets blocked off. Why? I have no idea. Like......is this the biggest thing to worry about here? Honestly, I felt like I had actually done something WRONG when she was lecturing me. I had to suppress my grin of disbelief the whole time. 

another statistic

I read the news and my heart sank. Like I've written before, it doesn't get any easier, no matter how many people die. At least, not for me. Leroy Sievers died this weekend. He had a blog, My Cancer. Some of you might remember the Ted Koppel documentary about living with cancer that he was in. He had metastatic colon cancer and was only 53. 

transit worries

When I got back to Manhattan in June, I was a little nervous about whether I still remembered the subway routes I used to take, especially because I was living on the East side, so now I had the 6 only - but midtown, where I worked, was another story. So the 6 took a day or two to get used to, but almost immediately it was like nothing had changed. Except I don't do buses in NY. Subways, sure. But buses, I'm afraid of doing something stupid, like getting on one and ending up in Queens or something. So in the year I lived there before, and all summer, I have not used the bus. Which brings me to this: Chapel Hill tranist. I will be taking a bus this year to school. It seems simple enough, walking up the road to the Southern Village Park and Ride lot, and taking the express bus right to UNC hospitals and then walking to SPH. I don't know why I'm so nervous about this - it's not like Chapel Hill is THAT big that I'll find myself somewhere crazy. But it's something new, something I'm not used to, so I guess it's understandable. 

Questions of the Day

This is sort of what my place looks like. Home, sweet home. 

Why is Southern Village so big? I turned in one street too early, and wound up driving around the houses part of the development for a full 6 or 7 minutes, FINALLY winding up at Brookgreen, which I knew led out to the main town square part. And it turns out my street is right off Brookgreen. But seriously, if I didn't know that? I'd probably still be out driving. 

Why are Ikea directions not really directions at all, but drawings of little martian people putting things together? And how come they don't come with hammers and screwdrivers? I had to go to Lowe's and get some. And by the way, they don't sell pink hammers or screwdrivers. Why not? 

And why are printer cartridges so expensive? That's just annoying.

exercise and cancer, and, again, why oncology?

There is an interesting article in the New York Times this morning about exercise and the cancer patient.  It basically talks about how exercise can be really beneficial for those undergoing treatment - like diminishing fatigue, which strikes an inordinate amount of cancer patients/survivors. We're not talking about running marathons or joining the Tour de France, even just walking around the block a bit can help. It was pretty interesting to read. 

I was asked the other day by one of the professors in the department, herself a physician, why I loved oncology so much - especially pediatric oncology, which has the potential to be so heartbreaking. And at first, I honestly couldn't speak. How do I explain the level of passion I have for this without sounding cheesy? How can I convey the need, the basic need, to be in this field, making a difference? I'm not sure. I started talking about how kids are so hopeful, and it's really inspiring, and we've come so far from where we were.....but there's so much more than that. Lance Armstrong's oncologist ( I met him in DC 2 years ago!) said something to Lance, in response to that very same question, and I think it encapsulates much of how I feel. 

"The burden of cancer is enormous, but what greater challenge can you ask? There's no question it's disheartening and sad, but even when you don't cure people, you're always helping them. If you're not able to treat them successfully, at least you can help them manage the illness. You connect with people. There are more human moments in oncology than any other field I could imagine. You never get used to it, but you come to appreciate how people deal with it - how strong they are."  - Dr. Craig Nichols

warm whispers

I wasn't prepared for the silence when I came back. My housemate isn't back in NC yet, so I have the place to myself - and it's so quiet - so UNLIKE Manhattan. It's taking some getting used to. There are no sirens outside, no horns honking....it's kind of nice. But there's also no Starbucks in walking distance, and no Pinkberry or Buttercup Bake Shop or falafel carts. It's a trade-off, I guess. 

After a summer of feverish reading and working on cancer stuff, I have time to read non-cancer stuff, which is refreshing. But I know that this time next week, I'll be swept up in schoolwork again, not to mention starting to figure out plans for next year, application essay writing, and so forth. 

It's really great to be back, though.

Let me tell you the secret that has led me to my goal: my strength lies solely in my tenacity. - Louis Pasteur

back in the OC

Wow. I am exhausted. I am back in NC, and relieved that the 7-8 hour drive is over. Now I am busy getting things organized in my new place - which is difficult, since my bed won't be delivered until next week, and also because I think I have to go get a chest of drawers and a table or something. So in effect, my room is  a mess. It's utter chaos and disorganization, which I hate. But I am so happy to be back here, and now I have to do the practicum review and field report. 

Do I miss NY? Yes and no. I miss my work at MSKCC, I miss the people there. In a strange way, I miss the background noise of the city, and I miss the ability to walk everywhere. I DON'T miss the prices in NY, and I DON'T miss the rudeness. I'll miss the subways, and I'll miss the shopping. And the food - definitely the food. But I'm really happy to be back in North Carolina, especially in my new neighborhood. 

cupcakes and cancer

Buttercup Bake Shop cupcakes. 

Tomorrow is my last day at MSKCC....as I type that, it doesn't seem real. The days and weeks have flown by, way too fast. I feel like just yesterday I unpacked my stuff and was nervous about starting. And though I loved it from the beginning, somewhere along the way it ceased to be just my practicum, but a large part of who I am. As Jennifer, my supervisor, said today, we spend a lot of our free time working on this stuff, so it makes sense that we love it. And she's right. Many weekends this summer I was busy reading journal articles, or adding to the lit reviews, or reading a book I picked up at the MSKCC library. But it didn't seem like work to me. And to have to leave this.....I hope I get to return to Memorial in the future - if not as a post-doc research fellow, then in some sort of capacity. I learned so much this summer, and really built my experience and confidence. I am forever indebted to everyone who taught me and helped me at MSKCC - it was an amazing experience. And maybe, most importantly, I found out that the people who work there, in the end, are simply human. I mean, I've read article after article written by Jamie Ostroff, or Tim Ahles, or Kevin Oeffinger, or Jimmie Holland - they are known in the field and I admire their work tremendously. To be in the same physical space as they were was overwhelming enough intially, but to actually have interactions with them - wow. But I found out that they, too, struggle with grants, and writing, and roadblocks in research. They are approachable and helpful, and very down-to-earth. They're human. They had to start somewhere. 

Tomorrow Rika, Dara, and I are going to Buttercup Bake Shop for their yummy cupcakes. Buttercup is owned by the woman who co-founded Magnolia Bakery.....I had two of their cupcakes last week for lunch. Sublime. A little piece of heaven, with pink pastel sugar frosting. Nearly going into a diabetic coma afterwards was well worth it. Today Rika and I went to Pinkberry for lunch.....I think Pinkberry and I are breaking up. I felt really ill afterwards. Oh well. It was just a summer fling. 

My task now is to try and consolidate the 7 bags I have into something more manageable. Somehow I doubt I will be succesful in getting all 7 to Penn Station thursday morning, even taking a cab. Suggestions would be welcome. 

picture time!

My mom, trying to keep Trey from thrashing around during his haircut.

Me, holding him after the hairdresser finished (he sat on my lap for half of it). 

Finally, all smiles again, in his Dylan's Candy Bar t-shirt from NYC.

Playing peek-a-boo at breakfast this morning. 

Here are some pictures of my time with my nephew this weekend - he had his first haircut, and it was a little jarring, I admit, going from Pediatrics at MSKCC to a first haircut....

why Pediatrics?

This is the playroom at the Pediatric Pavilion.

My time at MSKCC is quickly coming to an end, at least for this summer. I would love to be back there at some point, but I don't know when that will be. I have learned so much this summer, about myself, about oncology, and about life. I know without a doubt that working in oncology is for me, and my passion for it has grown exponentially. 

My supervisor and I were talking on Friday, and she had asked me what I liked about my experience, and I told her I love how I can tell that people really love what they do, and that they believe in what they do. It's not just a job to them. And I love that, because that's how I feel about this. It's not just something I turn on and off and would do simply for a paycheck. It's my passion, it's my goal - it's the fire that keeps pushing me to do more. And I can tell that the others are there for the same reason. There are easier ways of making money, especially in medicine and psychology. There are easier fields of study to go into, rather than oncology, where death - or the thought of death -  is something that is faced on a daily basis, whether it is spoken or not. People go into oncology for a reason, and it's not about the money. 

We toured the Pediatric ward on Friday, and it was amazing. That might sound weird to some people, to hear me describe a place where children are dying - and living - with cancer as "amazing", but it really was. It was as cheerful as you can get in a place you'd rather not be. The atmosphere was different, and words really fail me to describe the specialness I felt about it. I could see myself working there, and though it was sad for me to see some of the kids - especially the littlest ones - I felt at ease. It made me think of my  nephew, and how grateful I am for his health. People often say G-d, kids with cancer? How depressing. But really, it's all how you look at it. I could say the same thing about working with lower SES patients, or with children with special health care needs, or with Third World countries - but there are others who are so passionate about those things, and I think that's great - how all of us have different passions and goals and dreams and are willing to work to make things better in that world. There is something pure and honest about children, and they have innate hope. Yes, it goes against all rhyme and reason when a child is seriously ill. No, I don't have any answers and it is very hard for me to believe that it is part of G-d's plan. But I am willing to research anything and everything to make things better. I am willing to sit with them and their pain, and just listen. I am willing to bear witness to their stories, and make that human connection that others shy away from in times of illness. And sometimes, that's enough. 

"Part of the job of being human is to consistently underestimate our effect on other people." - Lucy Grealy, from Autobiography of a Face