Wednesday, July 22, 2009
End of the Soup Kitchen?
Today, I received an email from Jeff about how the Catholic Worker House is planning on closing down the soup kitchen. The phrase "different priorities" came up in describing the reason for this. I wonder what those different priorities are?
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Weddings!
A good high school friend of mine got married today.
Ah, there's so much I could say about today. I got to stand in a wedding for the first time, and, admittedly, there's something unexplainable about watching a friend stare into the eyes of the love of his life. As Hugo says in Les Miserables, it's one of those moments when the infinite above comes in contact with the infinite below. Hugo uses these words to describe prayer but I'd argue that it's just as applicable when it comes to love.
Bride and Groom
Turns out that I was the only high school friend there which placed me at a wonderful awkward and lonely position considering that most of the young people there were either college friends or part of the extended family. Still, at any given moment, it was hard not to be happy for my friend and it's nice how in celebrating the guests of honor, it becomes much easier to forget momentary discomforts. Plus, it's always fun to hear potentially embarrassing family stories.
Groom and Best Man, the morning of
Wedding Cake-- white, carrot, and chocolate
Rehearsal Dinner-- Hanger Steak
Oak Community Church-- listed as Hinsdale Baptist in my GPS (another one of those denominational drops)
Ah, there's so much I could say about today. I got to stand in a wedding for the first time, and, admittedly, there's something unexplainable about watching a friend stare into the eyes of the love of his life. As Hugo says in Les Miserables, it's one of those moments when the infinite above comes in contact with the infinite below. Hugo uses these words to describe prayer but I'd argue that it's just as applicable when it comes to love.
Bride and Groom
Turns out that I was the only high school friend there which placed me at a wonderful awkward and lonely position considering that most of the young people there were either college friends or part of the extended family. Still, at any given moment, it was hard not to be happy for my friend and it's nice how in celebrating the guests of honor, it becomes much easier to forget momentary discomforts. Plus, it's always fun to hear potentially embarrassing family stories.
Groom and Best Man, the morning of
Wedding Cake-- white, carrot, and chocolate
Rehearsal Dinner-- Hanger Steak
Oak Community Church-- listed as Hinsdale Baptist in my GPS (another one of those denominational drops)
Monday, July 6, 2009
Closing Thoughts and Miscellaneous Pics
Today, I was able to spend some time with an Internist, and, by chance, essentially got to spend time in all the other departments that I hadn't had a chance to spend time in before. This was because Dr. Khan was covering for two other Internists and was in ER-backup call. So, I ended up spending time in the ICU, and Med/Surg floors while also seeing a code blue down in the ER.
I had a fantastic time partly because Dr. Khan was an excellent teacher and he took the initiative to go over history taking and pointing important things along the way. It turns out that he just joined the volunteer faculty for Peoria for 3rd years, which means that should I want to come back to Dixon, I could request him as a preceptor. Dr. Khan did his US residency at Cook County Hospital in Chicago (Now Stroger) in 1991 and so he probably falls into the old-school breed of physicians. I think patients like him because he is very clear, very direct and assertive, and explains everything thoroughly (as evidence to his complete med-student like histories which usually take up at least three pages when transcribed). He has a remarkable mind and doesn't need to write any of his patient's data down when he takes histories. I spent time with Dr. Khan both in the clinic and in the hospital, and if I hadn't checked out at 9 pm, I would have also ended up in psychiatry with him. We even went to a physicians meeting that lasted all of 30 seconds when we finally got there (they needed a quarum to vote on some issue).
Regarding one patient Dr. Khan made an interesting point. "This patient is so thankful and says that I have saved her life five or six times. That's nice, but I don't think I am saving her life. I am just doing my job." Even though it sounded kind of strange at first, I realized then just how much the man loved what he did.
Petunia Festival
Every year, as part of the Fourth of July festivities, the people of Dixon have their "Taste of Chicago"-like event . I happened to go on the first day of festivities so there wasn't too much going on since the carnival part hadn't opened up, but as you would expect at an event like this, there was an assortment of overpriced food vendors and kiddie entertainment
The event took place right by Dixon high school (pictured above) which looks more like a castle than a school. I hear that it's not the best school district (of course this was told to me by a doc who was responding to my comment that his eldest college-bound son was probably a pretty bright kid).
One of the "games" there was this nifty contraption. Yes, that's a toilet on top.
As my contribution to the Dixon economy, I purchased this 10'' Italian Sausage for 7.00 (which isn't all that bad for an event like this) but my stomach was questioning the decision beginning from the first bites. Still, after downing a smoothie that was supposed to be a berry blend but tasted like bubble gum instead, I was able to keep things under control.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Basketball Jones Origins
Tonight at the Y, I played ball with one of the Dixon natives that I've met over the last few weeks. He just graduated from high school and has been working an assortment of jobs this summer for the income. I'm about five years older than him, and while I can pretty much take him off the dribble any time I'd like (the height advantage helps too), he certainly has me outpowered down low (now only if he could learn to dribble and finish in the post I'd have some serious issues). Still, we have a pretty good time playing 21 and I get a chance to try out some of the things that I try to work on during the week.
When I stop to think about it, all of this reminds me of when I was in elementary school--in the first grade to be exact. This was back at our old house when my parents had gotten me a basketball hoop for the driveway. My parents bought the hoop from Service Merchandise (which is now out of business) and I remember the agony endured between its purchase and its installation. We had decided to get the hoop cemented but rainy whether kept delaying the debut. When that final day did arrive, I remember standing in the driveway as the repairmen drove their pickup truck out of the driveway for the final time and staring up at the hoop with the red trim around the edges, the crsip white net, and the Jerry West logo imprinted on the lower left hand side of the backboard.
My neighbor across the street also went to the same elementary school. He was in fifth grade, and so, naturally, I looked up to him. I believe he was half Filipino and half Chinese (last name Wong, first name Alex). He used to come over after school and play ball with me. When he moved onto junior high, his bus would always come later than mine and so I would always eagerly rush outside and shoot around waiting for him to get back. When the yellow bus did drop him off, I would always stop and stare towards his driveway expectingly, ocassionally say hello, but always hoping that he would utter those magic words: "I'll be right there."
When I think about, I don't know why Alex played with me as much as he did. Perhaps he was simply a good friend, an older brother figure of sorts, or maybe his mom encouraged him to do so. The important thing is that he did spend those many afternoons with me, challenging, encouraging, and, in those moments of frustration, admonishing me.
This summer, both at the Y and at the Rural Health Camp, I've played ball with high schoolers and it still feels strange that I would be the oldest one on the court. I find myself trying to get everyone involved, even if it means encouraging people after an ugly shot or horrid pass, or drawing up a play to get someone an open shot. All of this makes me reflect on the days where I was the young, timid one on the court--getting patted on the back after a made shot and looking for the encouragment of the older people who ruled the courts. But now, I realize that in settings like these, I inevitably become a different person, though I can't completely describe why this is.
So here I am now, with many of the same frailties that remind me of the child I still am and with ever increasing reminders that I am not altogether the same person I used to be. Lord knows those childhood basketball days have passed me by, save for those nights where I find myself dribbling and shooting in the empty gym, imagining that I'm back on the cement driveway, fighting the gusty crosswinds while swishing up game winning shots just before the final buzzer sounds in my head.
When I stop to think about it, all of this reminds me of when I was in elementary school--in the first grade to be exact. This was back at our old house when my parents had gotten me a basketball hoop for the driveway. My parents bought the hoop from Service Merchandise (which is now out of business) and I remember the agony endured between its purchase and its installation. We had decided to get the hoop cemented but rainy whether kept delaying the debut. When that final day did arrive, I remember standing in the driveway as the repairmen drove their pickup truck out of the driveway for the final time and staring up at the hoop with the red trim around the edges, the crsip white net, and the Jerry West logo imprinted on the lower left hand side of the backboard.
My neighbor across the street also went to the same elementary school. He was in fifth grade, and so, naturally, I looked up to him. I believe he was half Filipino and half Chinese (last name Wong, first name Alex). He used to come over after school and play ball with me. When he moved onto junior high, his bus would always come later than mine and so I would always eagerly rush outside and shoot around waiting for him to get back. When the yellow bus did drop him off, I would always stop and stare towards his driveway expectingly, ocassionally say hello, but always hoping that he would utter those magic words: "I'll be right there."
When I think about, I don't know why Alex played with me as much as he did. Perhaps he was simply a good friend, an older brother figure of sorts, or maybe his mom encouraged him to do so. The important thing is that he did spend those many afternoons with me, challenging, encouraging, and, in those moments of frustration, admonishing me.
This summer, both at the Y and at the Rural Health Camp, I've played ball with high schoolers and it still feels strange that I would be the oldest one on the court. I find myself trying to get everyone involved, even if it means encouraging people after an ugly shot or horrid pass, or drawing up a play to get someone an open shot. All of this makes me reflect on the days where I was the young, timid one on the court--getting patted on the back after a made shot and looking for the encouragment of the older people who ruled the courts. But now, I realize that in settings like these, I inevitably become a different person, though I can't completely describe why this is.
So here I am now, with many of the same frailties that remind me of the child I still am and with ever increasing reminders that I am not altogether the same person I used to be. Lord knows those childhood basketball days have passed me by, save for those nights where I find myself dribbling and shooting in the empty gym, imagining that I'm back on the cement driveway, fighting the gusty crosswinds while swishing up game winning shots just before the final buzzer sounds in my head.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Family Medicine Reflections
Today was my last day with Dr. Myers and Reckamp at the KSB Oregon Clinic. I don't know if it's because it was my last day, but, for whatever reason, I felt pretty engaged throughout the day. I don't think I would want to treat small children (because as cute as they are, the fussy ones make these pretty miserable), but there's something to be said about getting the first stab at spotting all sorts of various ailments or simply following up on a pregnant woman throughout the course of her pregnancy. Maybe this is a reflection of my own interests, which tend to be scattered all over the place. Both docs that I spent time with had pretty different personalities, and in the end, I respected both of them for their distinguishing qualities. Most of the patients that we had were pretty pleasant people, which was quite a contrast to the ER where people came in with some sort of trauma/extenuating circumstances that contributed to their sometimes unpleasant dispositions. I remember a couple weeks in, I wondered if I might get bored doing Family Practice, but, after today, I am certainly entertaining the notion.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
"Crop Circle' Festival
Every year the city of Oregon invites artists from all over to come make designs out of the cornfields that litter the farming landscape. This morning, I went on this plane at the Ogle County Airport to go see their creations
Turns out one that my fellow passenger was a photographer for the local newspapers and he took pictures as a hobby. With my Powershot (SD850 IS), I still managed to capture a few photos of Oregon, Byron, Mt. Morris and the other towns in the area.
Here are some of the designs that we saw. There were actually only four of them but considering that the artists only have a few days to do this, it's pretty impressive. My favorite is probably the last one with the bison/buffalo, wolf, and whatever that last one is. I'm not really sure what the one in the first pic (left side) is.
Nothing screams rural town like nuclear plant. Here's one that's in Byron, which is supposedly a pretty nice area and has good schools (whatever that means these days).
These are photos of the Rock River, and as you can tell, it's pretty brown. One of the locals told me that they periodically get notices about Radium levels and other fantastic substances.
This last pic I found at a store that I went to today.
I also had a chance to visit a local soap shoppe in Oregon. The owner used to be a nurse for a while and then decided to that she wanted to open her own store. She has been able to use medicinal knowledge in making her own soaps, and her daughter who helps out at the shop is, coincidentally, going into pharmacy school at UIC Rockford (after, of course, she has her baby in September). I had a fun time smelling the different soaps and learning about what all these strange chemicals do. There were soaps for "stinky pits," "insomnia," "chocolate," and any kind of skin condition you could think of. I was given a sample of "study soap" which has peppermint, which is supposed to wake you up, and lemon, which improves concentration and reduces mental errors. Apparently, in China, they are infusing lemon over the ventilation system for computer workers and it has been found that the number of errors has been reduced 54%. That's certainly a lot cheaper than blowing cash on Ritalin or other ADHD drugs, and I'm sure there's a lot fewer side effects.
Turns out one that my fellow passenger was a photographer for the local newspapers and he took pictures as a hobby. With my Powershot (SD850 IS), I still managed to capture a few photos of Oregon, Byron, Mt. Morris and the other towns in the area.
Here are some of the designs that we saw. There were actually only four of them but considering that the artists only have a few days to do this, it's pretty impressive. My favorite is probably the last one with the bison/buffalo, wolf, and whatever that last one is. I'm not really sure what the one in the first pic (left side) is.
Nothing screams rural town like nuclear plant. Here's one that's in Byron, which is supposedly a pretty nice area and has good schools (whatever that means these days).
These are photos of the Rock River, and as you can tell, it's pretty brown. One of the locals told me that they periodically get notices about Radium levels and other fantastic substances.
This last pic I found at a store that I went to today.
I also had a chance to visit a local soap shoppe in Oregon. The owner used to be a nurse for a while and then decided to that she wanted to open her own store. She has been able to use medicinal knowledge in making her own soaps, and her daughter who helps out at the shop is, coincidentally, going into pharmacy school at UIC Rockford (after, of course, she has her baby in September). I had a fun time smelling the different soaps and learning about what all these strange chemicals do. There were soaps for "stinky pits," "insomnia," "chocolate," and any kind of skin condition you could think of. I was given a sample of "study soap" which has peppermint, which is supposed to wake you up, and lemon, which improves concentration and reduces mental errors. Apparently, in China, they are infusing lemon over the ventilation system for computer workers and it has been found that the number of errors has been reduced 54%. That's certainly a lot cheaper than blowing cash on Ritalin or other ADHD drugs, and I'm sure there's a lot fewer side effects.
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