Skip to main content

We All Scream For Ice Cream!

Yes. It's been a while. Of course, very typical of me. But now I'll introduce y'all to the next thing I did after emptying my wallet for dinner the first night.

Next, I went to a movie (Pitch Perfect 2!!!) and got ice cream afterwards. Alone.. Yes. I know. It sounds sad and pathetic, but it was actually fantastic. I didn't have to show up early because there were plenty of 1-seat spots left in the theater. I didn't have to share my popcorn (& melty MnM's). And I was able to relax and laugh obnoxiously without having to worry about embarrassing myself in front of anyone I knew (because I would really care about that in the first place.. NOT).

Ps. The theater had recliners! AND 2 cup-holders for each seat, including separate arm-rests so you didn't have to fight your neighbor for one. Like whaaaat????

Afterwards, I went to this fantastic place called J.P. Lick's. I'm assuming it's something comparable to our Marble Slab or Ben & Jerry's. But it was even more magical. They had ice cream, and froyo, and coffee, and breakfast (served all day), and cakes, and all sorts of gluten-free stuff, AND they even had a puppy treat!

I ordered myself a small waffle cone with one of their monthly flavors: Salty Caramel. I was able to sit on a chair, all alone, and enjoy the breeze and flavors in silence. It was pure joy.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

"We are sorry, you did not match to any position."

For the very first time today I can finally say that I understand   Passive suicidal ideation. An abstract symptomatology   Now clear as day As I sit here wishing that I wasn’t Trying to scream for help But unable to catch enough air to do so. It took me over 57 hours   To admit to my parents that my lifelong dream, My 3 degrees and now almost 4, Those 9 straight years of missing out, And half a million dollars of student debt Has all surmounted to nothing. I have been in this constant cycle   Of holding my breath Waiting to exhale while I   Work, and wait, and hope That everything I have done and endured and accomplished Would in someone else’s universe   Be enough. I am adaptable, compassionate, and resilient. My hands are warm. They are steady. And they are talented. I am an unrelenting advocate for my patients and my peers and for wellness. I have given every ounce of myself to   Every single team I have ever been apart of And it seems that I have ...

Thank you, Dr. Franklin.

At the recommendation of my counselor and the request of my dear friend, Cindy, I have been tasked to write about you. Yet, I have been sitting here for days. I have been trying to figure out what to say, trying to muster up the strength to sit face to face with this grief and carry the weight of this heavy heart. How do I come to terms with the fact that there is absolutely no possible way to put into words -- words that you will now never get to hear -- exactly what and how much you mean to me? But you, Dr. Franklin, would simply not stand for hesitancy, for stagnation. And I can almost guarantee that you would not want the tears. You would expect and demand action. So while I can't promise you that it will be as pretty as the sutures you taught me to throw or as clean as the gallbladder fossa s/p lap chole, here I am and I am moving. 

#MeToo

Written for my Humans of UIWSOM blog post. A couple of months ago, I watched an amazingly strong woman tell her story to the entire Council of Osteopathic Student Government Presidents. She stood in front of a large room, full of the leaders from each osteopathic medical school across the nation and showed an immense amount of strength by choosing to be vulnerable – to be vulnerable in order to empower others. Over the next few weeks, I watched e v e r y  s i n g l e testimony in the case against the monster called by Larry Nassar. I watched each young woman tell their story. And tell it loudly. Recently, a friend of mine told me her story. And although her story was told behind closed doors, it was told with the same amount of strength and power as exemplified by all of the women who I watched share their stories with the nation. And so finally, here I am. I am not nearly as brave, not nearly as strong, as I sit here behind my screen. But here I am, to finally (and very v...