Hx - no title

So I've had several days to normalise (read: see real friends and stay up too late and sleep in) and I am feeling much better and am now enjoying my time off. I spent a decent chunk of the weekend tutoring a classmate in the anatomy lab; poor thing, she'd gotten sick during the semester and had to put off a test until the Monday after finals. It was creepy being in the cadaver lab when it was half dismantled with no one else in there, but it helped to close off the semester for me. I don't really expect that to make sense to most of you because I don't fully understand it myself. My mother (who has her bachelor's in nursing - and that is insanely hard) does, though, which supports my vague theory that when you have poured yourself continuously into something that demands all of you, it is more stressful to simply stop abruptly than it is to taper off gently. Of course nothing about school is gentle, so I take it as a strange but excellent sort of gift that I got to phase school out of my system this time instead of just turning it off like a tap.

In other news, today I (re)learned how to purl. My mother taught me this stuff fully a decade ago and I totally ignored her, so now I have to learn it again as my ambition outstrips my skills. I can't just make garter stitch wool scarves for the rest of my life. Not that I've graduated out of scarves, ha! But the one I'm making now has got stripes, and maybe I'll be able to put patterns in the next one, and then
who knows what evil I could accomplish
I'll take over the world
I could strangle annoying people with cable knit
maybe a hat? Watch out annoying people and world circular needles, I'm coming for you!

I have no good way to end this post. Aren't you glad my writing skills are starting to atrophy? I KNOW I AM.

Hx - I know this is weird, but

finals are finished and not being in school so suddenly kind of makes me want to die. I am assuming this is a really strange response to the sudden cessation of stress, which is in itself a kind of stress and really I just want to curl up in a hole.

Break is meant to be a Good Thing! I FEEL CHEATED.

Hx - Hours

More often than not, it is a pain that I am most productive and efficient after midnight. Example: I have an exam at 10am tomorrow, but I couldn't settle down for long periods of time to work until about 20 minutes ago. In that 20 minutes I accomplished more than I managed to do in the last 2 hours, so naturally I am celebrating by taking a break.

Clearly I am made to work a strange shift in a hospital, or be the urgent care doc for a practice because I work well when most other people are winding down. It wouldn't be a problem if I could just go to bed at 2am each night and get up at 9:30 or 10 every morning. But no. I have to be up with the rest of the normals at seven. Or earlier.  Makes a girl want to get her own practice so she can set her own strange hours.


...KIDDING. I have no wish to start my own practice and -shudder- run a business while spending my days dealing with runny noses and hypertension and "well, I have this pain, and it sort of comes and goes... no, it doesn't hurt now..." No.

AnyZoehatingprivatepractice, I should get back to the science of BORING aging so that I can keep this awesome week of awesome grades going. I can't wait until my very! own! stethoscope! comes in in a month because that signals the beginning of Clinical Sk1lz I and did I mention that I am so excited I could pee myself to have my OWN STETHOSCOPE. And also a blue leather doctor bag. And a whole bunch of other stuff that adds up to a terrifying $1200 and whose purposes remain entirely mysterious to me (an ear insufflator bulb? There are multiple levels of idk contained within that phrase.  Example: what is an ear?). But mostly the stethoscope to hold and love and squeeze and pet and call George.

On to aging!

Hx - On The Ridiculous Hardcore Mentality, OR Finals, Falling

I am still alive. It is finals week. Yesterday was anatomy; I walked in with a solid grade and for sure walked out one grade lower. -sigh- We'd been warned that it would be brutal, but still - a letter grade? Well, that's what cushion is for. Today is (gasp!) a day off; tomorrow I have my OMM two-part final, then Biochem on Thursday and Histology on Friday.

I don't think I'm going to be that exhausted by the end of the week. I'll be tired - obviously - but not so completely exhausted that I will be nonfunctional. I know a lot of my classmates are going totally balls-to-the-wall, but I think that's just because they are immature type-A's who think that you're not "doing it right" if you don't go multiple days without sleep during finals in medical school. Part of me understands where they are coming from; there's this kind of mystique and drama about having to work! so! hard! that you literally can't ever sleep. It's hardcore and other type A's secretly (or openly) respect that. But you know what? There is a reason I studied a ton last week, and that was so I could get regular sleep this week. It's not cheating or slacking, it's planning and time management. And I am walking in to these tests with all passing grades so I have space for things to go wrong. I am realising that this is how medical school is actually supposed to be. You work every day so you don't have to cram; your stories aren't as cool drastic this way, but you get better grades and lose fewer years off your life from stress.

...This is going to sound totally hypocritical after what I just wrote. The way I appease that part of me that insists that sleeping during finals is cheating is by reminding myself that I am absolutely going to do medical missions once I'm a doctor, and go for a couple of months at a time and help out in refugee camps and give shots to tiny babies with kwashiorkor and whatnot. Those people wear themselves out and break their hearts AND pay for the privilege. If that isn't hardcore, I don't know what is.

And now to learn about testosterone - no, not the interesting stuff, that's next semester. Right now all I get to learn is how it's made and where it goes and blah blah blah. A future medical researcher I am not.

Note from the future: Premeds, learn this lesson now.  Spreading stuff out = win.  Cramming + all nighters = fail.  You've been through calc II; this should be easy math for you.

Hx - Fierce? Yes?

4 weeks until finals, and I am terrified.  Well.  Scratch that.  I would be terrified if I weren't so burnt out.  I spent this last weekend trying and mostly failing to study for a histology test until the 11th hour.  Took the test Mon. morning and then went home, skipped anatomy lab to take a 3h nap because if I had gone I guarantee I would have had a nervous break, found out I got a 90 on the test (thank you God, I did NOT deserve that... just like the last five tests...), and proceeded to spend the next six hours sobbing in front of the TV because I am just that bloody miserable. 

Did I mention that I'm kind of a whiner?  QQ

I have to say, though - and this is a total paradox - I am really glad to be here.  In medical school.. As a D.O. student specifically.  I can already fix headaches ad back pain and I have 3 months of school under my belt.  You can't ever tell me that isn't valuable and useful and good.

Hx - Please to win moar faster at t3h med school?

I am currently halfway through week 11 of 17, including finals.  There is a month of classes left and then a week of finals.  I actually only have 3 tests left in the semester.  I keep switching between feeling really energetic and pretty burnt out; today I described it as trying to keep a flame lit when it's out of fuel.  You blow on it and it flares up, but only briefly, and then it's even closer to being out than it was before.  And I don't really understand how I made it this far.  There was more than one time where God basically picked me up and carried me through an exam (or a day or a week) in His arms like a baby, but it still seems impossible that I am still here.  And even though there is nowhere else I would rather be and nothing else I would rather be doing, it's still sort of miserable. 

This entry is totally insipid, I feel like.  But I just don't have much to say.  I fall asleep going over the next day.  I wake myself up in the middle of the night naming arteries.  All of my dreams are about classmates, and I am sick of seeing them during the daytime, let alone in my dreams, and I think this affects my unconscious and wakes me up in the night.  Then I can't wake up in the morning.  I have an anatomy exam coming up Monday that is going to beat me up because I can't really study for it because I just want to sleep all the time, which is either avoidance or exhaustion.  Maybe both. 

[sigh]

But.  Thus far, my grades are all either satisfactory or more than.  At least there's no denying that my exhaustion has been somewhat fruitful.  Like I planted an academic seed and am giving it all my energy and it's actually growing. 

Into a doctor plant. 

Or... yeah.  I'm ridiculous and tired and I'm going to go study anatomy. 


Oh and p.s. I frequently want to tell people in my class to SHUT UP.  Oh, you don't like your own lunch?  You think our dress code's too lax?  Oh, you can't find time to exercise and now you feel fat?  QQ MORE NUB UGH.  I actually started to say 'QQ' to someone the other day and barely caught myself.  I can't be bothered to explain references anymore.

Note from the future: 'QQ' looks like two big cartoon eyes crying.  You're telling someone, "Aw, go cry about it!  NOT.  In truth I have no sympathy for you so stop whining."  For you, I can be bothered.

Hx - Fine print

I miss poetry.  I miss the freedom to be serious, to care deeply and use bold phrases.  I miss long skirts and short hair.  I miss staying up too late.  I miss being able to easily resist the normalising pull of community, of society.  I miss feeling tied to the sun.  Sometimes I don't want to be accomplished, I don't want to be a runner with good grades, nice smile, so agreeable, well-liked, walking obituary.  I want fire.  I want to startle people.  I want courage - the courage to be outcast and honestly known.  I want to stand in the courtyard and be silent with the sky and my God and not tolerate interruptions.

I miss part of myself.  You never realise the cost of dedication until you are already handing it over.  Will I ever write again?  Will I ever be struck by the beauty of the night, or will I simply sigh and go back to dreamlessness?


I miss having a shaved head.  A lot.  I worry that my career will make me into a collage of myself, bits and pieces strung together, nothing at all when you look closely.  Fragments.  Exhaustion.

Hx - God is, indeed, bigger than a first-year's anatomy test/ class. Thanks, God!

I got an 85 on my anatomy test overall, by scraping a 35/50 = 70 (lowest passing grade) on lecture, scoring a 46/50 = 92 on lab, and having 4 bonus points from in-class quizzes.  Combined with the 80 overall I scored on the last exam, I now have a solid B in my 7-credit class. 




YES.  OH YES.

In other news, I once again failed to run for eight minutes straight last night.  This is getting personal.  In other other news, I haven't worn matching socks in at least two weeks.  It is one of my tiny rebellions against a process that tries to normalise, break, and de-soul everyone that endures it.  I can tell that I'm going to start wearing stranger and stranger things just to stay sane amongst all the crushing amounts of studying.

Hx - God is Awesome!

Okay I have a secret.  I can't tell anyone at school beacuse it's not PC

but

we took an anatomy exam this afternoon.  I had a really terrible weekend burning myself out trying to study for it.  I just hit a total mental wall after studying for about 10 straight hours on Saturday.  The whole time, I was just thinking, 'God, it's a good thing you're in charge on the test, because I'm doing a really terrible job managing this myself.'  Anyway, my half of the class had lab (practical - IDing structures on cadavers) first, then the didactic portion (theory, injuries, etc)

and

and

AND

as I handed in the lecture portion of my anatomy exam today, the professor whispered to me, "You did really well on the practical portion of the exam.  Very good."

...!!!!!11!!!1!!one!!

I have no idea if I even passed the lecture portion of the exam, but if I did well enough on the practical part for the professor to notice, it DEFINITELY means my lab grade can carry my grade because each part counts for half the overall test grade.  I almost certainly passed!

[hyperventilates]

In other news, I failed to successfully run 8 minutes straight today.  Next attempt on Wednesday.  It would probably help if I got myself properly hydrated and nourished by then, too.

Hx - Enough!

Okay, can I just say something?  Medical school is hard.  And my class is one test into a seven-test, four week stretch of midterms hell.  People are getting beaten down and discouraged, starting to question themselves and their commitment to medicine.  People are starting to complain a lot and feel totally pessimistic.  Days are filled with nothing but frantic studying, trying to get things done while knowing that it is literally impossible to fully catch up.

But you know what?

I'm happy to be here.

I want to be right where I am.  People are starting to ask things like, "If you won 10 million dollars right now, would you stay?"  Yes, I would.  I'd become a doctor and then get to work for free like I've always wanted.  Because I want to.  Because I'm 22 bloody years old and once the shiny newness of being rich wore off in a few months or a few years, I would have nothing to do and no purpose in life other than being rich, which is ridiculous.  I want to be here and I'm not going to apologise for having a calling instead of a career.  It's not that I love my classes or can't get enough of the time I spend stuck in a room with the same 100 people.  It's that I'm going to be a doctor and that's what I'm made for, and there's nothing more fulfilling than knowing that I'm finally on the direct track to fulfilling my purpose.  I understand that a lot of people are losing their way a little right now, and I have some sympathy for that, but they are making it harder on themselves by staring longingly at the exit every day.

Bottom line:  don't be here if you don't want to be here.

P.S. Did I mention that I'm glad x 15284523487235 that I took histology already?  Because I am.  A whole lot.

Hx - On Fats, and Redeeming Myself.

Yesterday I held a human heart in my hand while my lab groupmate dissected out some of the veins on the surface  But first we had to clean dried blood out of the chambers and it was awesome!  AND I got to finish cutting the sternum with a bone saw and this time, it didn't even faze me.  Pretty much total redemption on the grossness front, I'd say.

In other news, I am currently in biochemistry class, learning about why Fats are Fun.  Or not.

Note from the future: This whole "class" thing becomes quite the debate with me.  As in, I hate class.  So I guess no real debate.  Never mind.

Hx - Anatomy lab is full of The Ick.

Things are moving along.  I had my first true gross-out moment in anatomy lab yesterday; we were cutting the front of the chest wall (read: rib cage) our so we could dissect out the heart and lungs and surrounding bits.  Watching them cut through the ribs wasn't too bad, but then the instructor started pressing down on them to make sure he'd cut all the way through and the ribs started breaking... instant full-body shudders.  It was terrible.  And then we had to suction fluid out of the cavities of the lungs... ugh.  Ugh!  I can't even tell you.  And I was shocked.  I mean, medical students aren't supposed to get grossed out by things, right?  But after talking to some of my classmates I don't feel so bad.  Turns out this is a pretty standard thing; it's just different for everyone.  One girl dry heaves every time someone pulls a blood clot out of a vein.  This one guy almost passed out when we had to skin part of the body for the first time.  But somehow I've never heard anyone acknowledge that cadaver lab is just sort of... gross.  Useful, yes, but also icky.

Other than that...  how quickly my standards change.  B's used to be expected and C's were not okay.  Now C's are great, because at least I passed, and a B is the academic equivalent of a surprise box of Milk Tray.

Test craziness starts again next Tuesday.  First up: biochemistry.

Hx - Pleased

I'm really, really glad I busted my undisciplined undergrad butt last year taking histology.  It is saving me right now.  Exam in that tomorrow.  Then a bit of breathing room!  No huge exam next week, just a small OMM practical, which is sweet.

Note from the future: Premeds, TAKE HISTOLOGY.  And biochemistry.  And any neuroanatomy or neuroscience you can get your hands on.  You will thank yourself every thirty seconds or so during the first year of school.

Hx - no title

Things are grinding along.  After my anatomy test I felt wiped.  So far I am two tests down, and both were C's and both were above the average.  Part of me feels disappointed that I'm not just naturally kicking arse at medical school, but I feel like I have a read now on how much work it takes to earn (yes, earn) a C here.  A lot (more than in college).  My goal is to get a B on the next few tests.

In other news, I never thought I say this, but here it is:

Running saved my sanity yesterday.

I know, shocking.  But when the school year started I decided I would try this stupid running thing because really, it's the least time-and-equipment-consuming form of exercise.  I've graduated, at week four, to running in 3-4 minute periods at about 4.2 miles an hour.  It's not much!  But I've been running three times a week steadily, and at this rate, running for a full half hour WILL BE MINE by the end of the semester.  And yesterday, when I got my exam back, I just felt like I was going to explode, so running helped. 

Hx - School, School, School.

To begin, I suggest you look up 'giraffe in quicksand' on Youtube.  It serves as a good summary of the first year of school.

I'm losing all sense of time, which for someone with as regimented a schedule as I have, is stressful and frustrating.  As one of my classmates said, "The days are long but the weeks are short," which is sort of right and basically means that I can't remember something that happened this morning, but feel like it's only been two days since three weeks ago.  But an eternity since summer, which was... actually, I think that was three weeks ago.  or four.  three.  four.  mmmph.  [shakes head to clear it]

I am slowly losing my home life and have lost what little social life I had.  This is stage 1 of the medical student transition.  Stage 2 is when I find myself growing a new life that is simultaneously home life and social life, and is one with medical school and the people in it.  I AM FIGHTING THIS.  Most medical students lose all ties to the outside world and then, attention-starved, turn to each other (and then - stage 3 - eventually on each other.  I never said this was healthy, just codependent).  I think the downward slide is inevitable but I'm still resisting.  For instance, I am frequently home for dinner, and so far I have ALWAYS been home before 10pm.  I have to see Matt or I'll go postal and kill everyone.  Staying in limbo like this is sort of painful, though, and it's sort of costing me friends all the time, which sometimes doesn't matter to me and sometimes makes me sad.  Whatever, I never made friends easily.  I'm just not used to having to try and unsure if I feel like making the effort.

OMM is still the coolest thing I've ever seen or heard of, though.  I can't wait to start really learning.  Yesterday was the supremely awkward Day of Major Anatomical Landmarks, where we palpated everything from the clavicles to the ankle bones to the sacrum and pubic bones.  Yes, on each other.  Yes, regardless of gender.  Yes, even more awkward things loom in our collective future.  Next semester in OMM is all pelvic and sacral work.  Awkward, but also still the coolest thing ever.

Hx - no title

I can't believe it.  I drained myself last week.  Last week.  Last week.  This does not follow the plan!  I have considerable personal resources!  I don't get drained in a week.  A year, maybe.  Or a really tough six months.  I'm a little offended by myself, to be honest.

And now I can't do any work.  I don't think I've done any real studying yet this week, which is terrible and only makes me more disinclined to study.  You see how I've been spending my time, look at the length of this bloody post.  To think I scoffed at the 2nd years who said they didn't do any work for the first couple of weeks of school, or took months to get into a real rhythm (even if that was only a good continuous monkeybarring motion from test to test).  I am the same.  I am just like them.  -facepalm-

Look, I know I'm whining, okay?  I can't help it.  I don't understand what is going on and as a result I'm not sick of my own drama yet, although that stage is coming.  I think I just gunned it too hard last week, and now I'm paying for it, and now my naturally even-keeled B-type personality will reassert itself and I will hopefully start getting on with things in a more balanced you know what never mind realistic fashion.  Soon.  Tonight.  Because I'm behind in Anatomy and if I don't start figuring out my neural crest from my ectoderm I will be in serious trouble.  See?  I'm prioritising already.  Let's just talk about something else.

In other news, I had my first real OMM (osteopathic manual manipulation) class today and it set me on fire.  It was absolutely the coolest thing I have ever seen/ done in my entire life, and I get to do it again next week.  Did you know skin feels different when you're running your fingertips over a healthy patch of tissue vs. a tense patch, or a really muscular patch?  It was amazing!  And then one of the instructors made me do a bunch of weird pulls and stretches that I don't know yet and fixed a spot in my back that has hurt for literally years.  It was completely resistant to chiropractic.  And now it barely hurts at all!  Did you know, D.O.'s who are trained in OMM can adjust your ribs?  And your feet?  And that your whole body has this continuous layer of tissue (called fascia) running through it, over the muscles, and that you can test the fascia at your toes by pulling on the back of your head?

Amazing!!  Let's go study Anatomy!

Hx - I am a zombie

I am tired.  Medical school is impossible.  I cannot understand the reality of months at this pace.


That is all.

Hx - Shell-shocked

See, the thing about looking at something far-off and going, "Yeah, that's going to be hard work," is that you fail to appreciate that it is going to be hard bloody work.

[shakes head, is out of words]

Hx - no title

Orientation is over!  It was mostly, but not completely, a waste of our time.  Tomorrow I get my white coat.  Monday morning we have HIPAA training and some other professional training, and Monday afternoon I start dissecting the back muscles.

This is just going to be so different.



I, uh... cried in the car today on the way home.  Mark it!  I made it all the way to the very damn end of orientation!  'Coz I'm a BOSS.

 

Yeah.

Hx - So that's a typical day for you?

The first two days of orientation have been stupid.  They made us play icebreaker games yesterday.  At a camp.  Like ten-year-olds.  I understand that they want us to get to know each other, but we're going to be in each others' space constantly starting now.  Getting to know each other is not a concern.  And quite frankly, I'm not here to play games, so let's cut the crap.  Tomorrow, though, I go in wearing SCRUBS like a BOSS.

In other news, I am going to be a doctor - if I survive the next two weeks, which apparently defy description, they're so ridiculous.  Every time a 2nd year tries to describe them, they get this paralysed look on their faces, and then shrug, and say, "You can't be prepared for it, so don't even try.  But you'll get through it." 

Pause.  Pause.  Pause. 

"Somehow." 

According to one girl, "I cried.  A lot.  Like all the time, actually.  And I'm not a crier.  But  then I got through it.  You'll be fine."  The entirety of today was devoted to teaching us how not to lose our minds, and informing us of several resources should we go ahead and do it anyway.

But I'll be fine.

...

  ...

    ...

LIKE A BOSS.

Hx - Ha!

My final schedule for the semester came in today.  And I'm not in class for 40 hours a week - only 30!  The most amazing thing about this is that I get Monday mornings and Friday afternoons off.  Now, we'll see what 'off'' means functionally once I get into the semester, but I won't have class!  That's huge.  And every afternoon is labs, so it's at least a mixture of practical work and theoretical information.  Take a look.

Time	Monday	Tuesday	Wednesday	Thursday	Friday
8-9 A.M.			Diagnostic Imaging		Dean's Hour (once a month)
9-10 A.M.		Histology	Gross Anatomy	Histology	Medical Biochemistry
10-11 A.M.		Medical Biochemistry	Medical Biochemistry	Medical Biochemistry
11-12 P.M.		Gross Anatomy	OMM	Gross Anatomy	Gross Anatomy
12-1 P.M.	lunch	lunch	lunch	lunch	lunch
1-2 P.M.	Anatomy Lab, sec. 1	Anatomy OR Histology Lab, sec. 1	OMM Lab - sec. 1	Anatomy OR Histology Lab, sec. 1
2-3 P.M.
3-4 P.M.	Anatomy Lab, sec. 2	Anatomy OR Histology Lab, sec. 2	OMM Lab - sec. 2	Anatomy OR Histology Lab, sec. 2
4-5P.M.

It seems like they worked to pyramid the week; Monday and Friday are the shortest, while Wednesday is the longest.  Overall, it's a softer schedule that I thought it would be - still a lot of work, obviously, but I now see how people can do this medical school thing.

Less than a week until orientation starts!  You know what that means?  I get to go shopping for school supplies.  [squee]  Calendars, notebooks, post-it notes, dividers, flashcards... mmm, I can smell the organisation.  I get to get a new backpack! 

...I stand unashamed of my dorkitude.  Leave me with my academic neatness.

Hx - Catching Up

I unfortunately began this blog in the middle of my second semester of my first year of school.  But!  I have a personal journal that I write in semi-regularly.  Any posts tagged  with "Hx" (=history) are from this.

~

So I'm here.  What to say.

This summer has been a whirlwind, and when I look back on it, I can barely remember it.  Oh, I can rattle off a list of events: a few weeks at my parents' home, a few scattered days at my own, a white-picket-fence wedding that wasn't mine and then a lovely affair that was.  A long, clean stretch of relaxation that was the honeymoon in Mexico.  Two days of insanity while Matt prepared to leave one last time.  And now, me sitting in an upturned apartment that is covered with the results of only coming back to wash clothes, repack, and leave again.  So I know what happened.  But my memory is such a blur; I can barely remember what I was doing a month ago, where I was or why.  It's disorienting.  And although it seems like right now I should just be hanging out, I can't relax because I have school coming up in a month, not to mention there's just a lot of shit that needs doing.  Matt's not here, so I get to clean the apartment by myself.  The bedrooms need to be reorganised, I have to get on Matt's insurance, get my paperwork in order for school, blah blah blah. 

Speaking of which, school starts in precisely four weeks, and I'm starting to get nervous.  I can barely talk about it, actually.  I've rewritten this paragraph three times because I just start babbling, and really, what am I going to say that is unexpected?  That this is huge?  Or course it is.  That I'm totally dedicated to this?  I wouldn't have gone through all the shit of the past year if I weren't taking this seriously, and I think that's true for everyone in my position.  I think I just can't stand the tension.  I'm hanging here in anticipation and all I can really do is stare at this looming life change as it inches closer.  The wedding wasn't like this at all; the closer I got the more stuff I had to do, and then I got mad sick so the one day that would have been filled with reflection was instead filled with sleep and vomiting.  All I had to do was put my head down and get through it, and then process slowly in isolation afterwards.  It was perfect for me, really (you know, minus the throwing up horribly - green, mind you, because of the Excedrin I'd tried to take -  in a plastic bag on my way to a dessert - dessert!  what was I thinking? - boutique full of estrogen way-too-early on a Saturday morning to celebrate happiness.  That I would have changed).  With this, though, all I can do is wait and wind myself tighter.

At least I get to see Incubus in Chicago next week.  It's part birthday present for myself, part way to get out of my stupid empty apartment, part way to pass the time until things get exciting exhausting again.  This time, though, I will drink water.  Medical school, ironically enough, does not care if its students throw up in a bag on the way to class, only if the patients do.

I've been thinking a lot about the past and the future, trite as that sounds.  Hey, I'm at a big turning point in my short life; cut me some slack.  Anyway.  I had a conversation about a year ago with a recovering coke addict who'd snorted his thriving business out of existence a while ago; now, he's Christian and starting over, and things are really going well for him.  He said something that helps to give me perspective.  "This?  This is easy.  Being at rock bottom was hard."  And he's so right.  Being young and working hard, looking up and ahead and seeing light?  What can possibly compare to that?  And I don't mind that I get to skip the worst part of the recession by being in school.  Things are good.  I'll take the tension, thanks.