The art of eating alone

So there are many things in life I think we should all be capable of doing on our own, and one of them is mastering the art of eating alone. Perhaps it is the fact that I am an only child or maybe just the fact that I am very independent, but this is a task that doesn't bring trepidation to my soul, but only contentment.

Thus last night I bundled up and headed to my favorite neighborhood pizza locale, Napolese. If you have never been to Napolese it has this rich, dark atmosphere with an aristocrat like ambience. A small bar overlooking the large adobe like oven gives added warmth to the room. I enter the bubbling full of life building to begin my personal experiment " Table for 1 please?" I almost laughed when the host said, " I' m sorry what did you say?" The host blushed as I repeated "just one" and he kindly placed me at the bar. Within minutes I was promptly enjoying the bold smoky undertones of the house chianti. The thing I love most about eating alone is the fact that you observe everyone around you and are forced to appreciate the moment.

The clink and clank of glasses raising for a toast, the laughter, the intensity of the gaze of the two lovebirds knuddling in the corner, all of this I just take in like a gasp for air after being submerged in water. It is life, love, and the connections that bind us all.

My meal arrived and as I began conquering my vegetarian chop salad, while at the same time catching up on the NY times for the past week. Contently, I downed the dregs of my wine determined to enjoy every last drop. I gaze up and to my surprise two of my close friends were entering the door to be seated for dinner. Who are you here with? I smile and say with confidence "myself." As I sign my receipt stub, I join them for some much needed catching up.

I guess my point is that I have always been one of those independent people, I am not scared of being alone nor do I want to be dependent on anyone else. We all know people who have never been alone a moment in their life, whether it is a relationship or daily living. I guess as I turn another year older this week I have been thinking a lot about age and what I learn along the way. I realized it has taken me a long time to be comfortable being the lone woman at the table and trust me I have never felt better.

When I grow up.....

My grandmother believed in many things, and one of them was the basic fact that there was a recipe for everything. Yet, this did not only pertain to food, she had recipes for success, life, and love. When she passed away a little over a year ago, I couldn’t help but smile when presented with her recipe box, brimming full of all her recipes we had shared over the skillet. However not all her recipes needed a card, she had a way of making decisions about life that were so easy; no directions were needed. So as I am faced with the overwhelming task of selecting a residency, I feel like my grandmother would look at me with her radiant smile and suggest we just sit down, talk, and make a recipe. Therefore, I started from scratch and set out to discover my own recipe for residency.

Prep time. I feel that my life experiences and my medical school training have equipped me to be a successful and compassionate intern. I will never forget as I watched the droplets run into the endless rivers of IV tubing and flow into the small bump on my father’s chest. The man who could make any cut better with a kiss or a warm embrace did not resemble the man I remembered. His once vibrant eyes seemed tired and the face of assurance was scarred with the burns from chemotherapy. It was in this moment that I began to understand the feeling of helplessness. I had no control over the cancer that populated his body nor did I have the answers to his concerns. It was through this experience that I truly realized the responsibility that comes with being a physician. Being a doctor is more than prescribing medicine; it requires empathy, inner strength, and the ability to convey hope in times of hopelessness. It calls for a passion to serve and determination tofight for others when they cannot fight for themselves.

Ingredients. Ingredients are the foundation to any recipe, just as residents are the vital components of a successful surgical program. Thus, I feel it is important to share the attributes I would bring to your surgical program. Vivacious and gregarious by nature, communication is an area of strength for me. Through my many years of schooling and marathon running, I have gained tenacity, stamina, and perseverance that will be useful during my surgical residency. My passion to serve and genuine concern for others is evident in my daily interactions with patients and peers. I bring enthusiasm and effervescence to my work, thus I am rarely seen without a smile. My Midwestern upbringing based on the principles of hard work and determination is a continual motivator in my daily life.

Cut. I remember as a child watching my grandmother chop onions. I remember the fluidity of her movements and the precision of each cut. The truth is I might not handle a kitchen knife all that well, but I believe my grandmother would be proud of my abilities with a 10 blade. Surgery is everything I search forin a profession. It is fast-paced and ever changing. It truly embodies the “art” of medicine allowing my right brain and creativity to be put to good use. I love the feel of adrenaline pulsing through my veins and its spur of the moment mentality. Yet,I also appreciate the restoring quality of the field. The way we can give the body
a tune-up, just like an old car, and with good attention to detail we can locate the problem, take care of it, and send people on their way.

Stirred not Beaten. So in reference to residency, it is true. I would prefer to be stirred, not beaten. Do not misunderstand me, I am looking for a rigorous program where I leave well trained and confident, but I do not want my zest for life to be lost in the process. Yet, more importantly I feel that a program is only as good as the people who make it up. I am searching for an institution that produces residents that are not only skilled surgeons, but also wonderful teachers, patient advocates, and well-balanced individuals. I value a program that prides itself as an environment and fosters learning and a hands onapproach.

Bake for 30 mins at 375 degrees F. Once you’ve shut the oven door, you have been left with a few minutes of free time. I realize that free time might be a rarity in residency, but I believe that what you do inside the hospital is just as important as what you do outside. I personally believe in the mind, body, soul connection thus I spend much of my free time running and finding my inner zen with yoga. I run marathons for fun. I delight in fine food, wine, and long dinners with friends. In short, I believe that a balanced life outside the hospital can result in more productive and happier residents inside the hospital.

Cut the cake. Like every great cooking endeavor the best part is finally taking a bite of your edible creation, and thus I can only believe that finishing residency and starting your own career tastes just as sweet. While I have no idea where I will bein 10 yrs, I do know that I want the life I always dreamed of as a little girl. I want to have a family, a successful surgical career, and happiness. Inside the halls of my institution, I want to teach and create an environment that fosters learning and encourages students to explore the field of surgery. More than anything I want to lead by example. I want to be a catalyst for change, a breath of fresh air, and a damn good surgeon.

Pillars of strength

I have vivid memories of myself as a little curly haired girl with black patent leather shoes running around my mother's favorite department store. I would weave in and out of the racks of clothing as if they were a giant fort I had built at home out of blankets and pillows. I would peer out of the merry-go-round of clothes occasionally to keep track of my mom. Then there was the time I would peek my head out of my nest of cotton and polyester blend and realize my mother was nowhere to be found. Terrified and panic stricken, I can feel the fear that came down on me like a nightshade. I feel my heart beating under my chest and the chaotic clicking of my heels as I run down the aisles screaming for my mom.

This is the exact same feeling I had when my dad told me his cancer is back. I had this chaotic feeling within my soul. I felt like I have been hit by a tornado only to be left with disorder and destruction to be cleaned up. You would think I would be good at this since we experienced this just 5 years ago. Yet, I don't know if your ever get good at something like this. I feel like the last time I went through this I just was paralyzed to the whole situation. It truly was one of the lowest points of my life. I remember crying myself to sleep, feeling so alone, and most of all scared.

You see my entire life I have wanted to be a pillar of strength. One of those people who lift others up and make their day better; a person who is strong in body, mind, and soul capable of helping others through hard times. Yet, what I have found over the years is that most of the time my pillars of strength remind me more of the ancient Roman ruins, piles of crumbling rock.

Where do you find your strength? I read an article this past week that looked at people who had suffered adversity in their life and found that they were actually happier. As I read the article I just kept thinking really....really, but in the end I think they are right. If we have never known hardship or disappointment how can we appreciate the good times. The truth is I am a person who believes each experience shapes and equips us, makes us stronger, and able to handle the life we have been given. I have no idea how my parents have survived all they have been through together, but they have and in the end they are some of the happiest and kindest people you will meet.

Bad things happen to good people. I see it everyday at the hospital and I live it at home. While my family lives on optimism, I can't deny that I am scared. I love my father, he is my hero. I want him to be around to share not only in the joys of his life, but also the milestones of my life. Thus while my life is a cyclone of anticipation about residency and 4th year requirements, life has so humbly shown me that there are more important things like my family to worry about. I have asked several times "why me?," yet I am reminded that life is a battleground constantly training and equiping you for the road ahead. Thus I approach the weeks ahead, with determination, hope, and a heart open to experience. Nothing is perfect, not even my crumbling pillars of strength.

The Former Me

I often wonder what it would be like to be five years old again. You know everyday was a good day and your greatest care in the world was when you could go outside and play. I get lost in the warm memories of my childhood; the puppies, the Barbies, and the daily ice cream dates with my mother over summer break. Yet, I am quickly thrust back to my current 26 year- old self, and I wonder if that 5 year- old image of the former me could be found anywhere within me today.

A friend asked me a couple weekend's ago if the 5 year- old version of myself could see me now what would I think? While I answered quickly on the spot" I believe she would be proud," my mind continues to tangle through the cobwebs of my memory as I wonder if that is true. As I am time warped back to my childhood, I just remember I was just so darn happy. I had parents and grandparents who loved me, a warm house, a puppy, and a community of people who believed in my potential. I loved school, learning, and finger painting. I ate macaroni and cheese made with Velveeta, the cheese in a stick, and hot dogs and I didn't worry about my carb intake or the possible carcinogens I was ingesting. I had a group of family and friends who loved me and if I would have told them I wanted to be the next president of the United States, they would have all said you can do it. I guess more than anything, I went to bed at night with the assurance that everything was going to be O.K.

As I wake up in a cold sweat approximately once a week I wonder if my former self has any words of wisdom. My current life is bombarded with concerns about my future and upcoming residency match- where will I be, will I be happy, will I be able to see my family and friends, will I..... and the list goes on and on. I worry about making time to work out and if I will ever know what the word relationship means.

My 5 year- old self loved to laugh. I use to laugh so hard that I would be rolling around on the kitchen linoleum. My 5 year-old self would prescribe a remedy of laughter for any bad day. My former self would want me to sit down and have a cheeseburger with french fries and remember how much I loved Mc Donalds Happy Meals. My former self saw failure as a sign of room for improvement not a catastrophe. Yet, perhaps most of all she would want me to believe that I had something to give, that I could do anything I wanted, and that I deserve happiness.

You know we all have evolved from that sweet 5 year-old into the person we are today. While I wonder what parts of " little me" remain, I know that somewhere deep within the nooks and crannies of my being I will find my former self. I believe that we only get better as we get older, but with it we bring along this adult size baggage. I believe it is up to us to unpack and sort out the things that matter most in life. While I would do anything to recapture my childhood innocence and curiosity, I believe I will just settle with resting my head down tonight and adopting my 5 year-old mantra -that everything will be O. K.

Summer Nights

So this might surprise many of you as I am the type of person who loves many things about life, but I have no qualms or reservations when I say I detest summer. Perhaps it is a genetic flaw or some bad connection between neurons, but there is nothing I abhor more than being hot, sweaty, and panting like a dog. The air is so thick it is like gasping cotton for air. Not to mention the humidity, which causes my hair to look like a poodle ready for a dog show. Yet another additional factor would be my porcelain like skin that can easily be turned to a cherry tomato hue within 15 mins of UVB exposure. Yet, with all this hate and discontent I have pent up about summer, I have forced myself to find some positive attributes about the season for example flowers, farmer's markets, and summer nights were the only things that came to mind.

There is something absolutely magical about summer nights. The daylight fading in the distance, the cool breeze on your face, and the endless possibilities. I often am taken back to a certain night in Maine 4 years ago. I had just finished this fabulous dinner at my favorite restaurant called Francine's. It was this eclectic yet elegant little place in the town I was working for the summer. I remember I was walking back to the house in the dark of night on the vacant street when it began to rain. There was no one in sight, no cars, just me and the road. I slipped off my black heeled sling-back shoes and just started running. Running in the rain, with only the light of the street lamps guiding my way. I remember thinking about how alive and young I felt at that very moment. How the smell of rain had never smelled crisper, or the matted curls of my head never softer, and my heart beating in my chest never more palpable. The truth is that summer nights have an opiate like affect on my soul. It leaves me wanting more.

Perhaps we never leave the idea that is ingrained in us as school children that summer is a time of fun, laughter, and celebration. We carry with us this vacation mantra, where we are relaxed and free to do what we want with no restrictions. I love looking out amongst my friends as we sit outside in the early hours of the evening with the smell of charred meat permeating the evening air as I see them laughing as they sip upon their summer ales. There is an energy in the atmosphere that is infectious. Yet, more importantly is the opportunity that the evening will bring. The new experiences and spontaneity of the moment are endless expectations of the season. Then like a light switch summer is turned off and we are jolted back to the reality we all know. Perhaps this is my true issue with summer, it is a short lived aphrodisiac, it entices you to come and play and then exits without a goodnight kiss. It seduces you to believe that life can be so carefree and without worries forever.

Yet, before you know it the leaves will begin to change color, the air will become crisp, and you will awaken from your summer like trance to realize autumn is upon you. Until then I plan to soak up all I can of these magical summer nights and to cherish the season with good company and I encourage you to do the same.

beautiful and bubbly

So it brings me great pleasure to introduce you to my new favorite libation...Sofia Coppola.  It is nothing but a delightful can full of effervescence, which bubbles over with joy. It is crisp with a taste of  sweet pear and a hint of honey. It comes in this marvelously magenta can and once you pop the tab you will find that it is everything you could ever hope for from a can of champagne- beautiful and bubbly.

 Now this drink was made for the young at heart, because included with every can is a bendy straw; as if you could stow it along with your Snack Pak for lunch or something. Yet, perhaps what I love most about Sofia is that I have it on an occasion. Some might find this pretentious, but I just see it as honest. Champagne has been marketed as only being appropriate for the celebrations of life, the golden moments. Yet, I have been reminded over the last year that life is worth celebrating everyday. Therefore, I pop the tab, lift my can, and sip my Sofia, and smile because it is a good day.

I find it hilarious that a little ol' can of pink goodness can touch me on such an existentially deep level.  I think it is safe to say that most people look forward to the celebrations of life. The weddings, the bar mitzvahs, and birth of children all highlight some of the new chapters in people's life which people find appropriate to clank their glasses and drink to. Yet, we often neglect all those days in between the ones that make up the majority of our existence. Where would be without them? The more I ponder the significance of these days the more I come to cherish them. It is within the ordinary day that I hope you will look to find something magically wonderful.  If more people looked for a reason to celebrate each day, I believe that the monotony of everyday life would dissipate. Not only would we be happier people, but it also would be easier for us to see the beauty that surrounds us daily.

More importantly I have learned that I tend to find enjoyment out of the most benign and ordinary things in life. As you can imagine, champagne in a can was a really great day for me.  In general, I tend to see the glass half full at all times, and sometimes 3/4 full.  Which at times I am sure can be obnoxious to my fellow 1/2 emptiers, but that is just the way I am programmed.  Trust me I know the fears that plague us. The worries of never being good enough, pretty enough, smart enough,  successful enough, and whether we are worthy of happiness.  The list goes on and on. However, lately I have been trying to convince myself that those things don't cultivate happiness.  Happiness lies in the little things; the random Hello on the street, the smile on the sidewalk, and card in the mail. It's in the mundane everyday tasks that we do. Most things in life are simple, and happiness is no different.

Life was meant to be like champagne-beautiful and bubbly. Yes, we all have been handed different lots in life.  Yet, regardless I think that everyone has the capability of creating a masterpiece for their own lives. It is inevitable that we all will have our disappointments along the way, but it is the way that we respond that makes all the difference. Thus this week pick up a bottle of champagne, pop it, and celebrate just another ordinary day.

  

Missed Moments

I pulled up to my 38th St ghetto-fabulous CVS a couple of days ago. I was in a rush and just had to pick up a couple of things before heading out to school. I remember I looked down to grab my wallet, but when I went to get out the car there was a woman standing outside my door knocking on my window. I screamed and jumped about 6 ft., as the woman backed away from Black Beauty, my lovely Chevy Cavalier, and waited for me to get out.

 I already know what you are going to say, " You didn't get out of the car, did you?" But yes, yes I did. The woman then began begging me for money or food for her children. Normally on any other day, I would just walk on by, telling myself she really has a job, has food stamps, or is just going to go buy liquor with my money. But something inside my gut told me that this woman was different. Perhaps it was the hopelessness in her eyes, or the desperation in her voice but I couldn't help it. I came out of the store with my gleaming golden box of Cheerios, but the woman was no where to be found. 

I will not lie, I was a little upset that I had bought this economy sized box of over priced cereal from the drug store, but I was even more distraught because I had missed an opportunity.  I feel like many of the regrets in our lives come back to our willingness to act in the moment--to take a chance. 

What I have learned over the last couple of years is that time is only going faster, and with it the opportunities.  It reminds me of this time when I was six and it was snowing outside. I was all bundled up in my neon pink snowsuit, and I was on a mission to collect all of the falling snow in my mouth.  I would stick my tongue out and dance around the yard trying to catch all the snowflakes in my mouth, but the snow was coming down too fast. My mother states how entertaining it was watching me run around the yard frantically with my tongue out like some rabid dog, but even more interesting is that it never crossed my mind that this was an insanely impossible task. I just knew I needed to try.

This is the problem we spend to much time analyzing and calculating how logical  the opportunity is and whether it  will help us or not. This is where we need to stop. Because every opportunity offers some sort of possible gain. I believe the real problem is that most of us, perhaps unknowingly, deep down have commitment issues. I will be the first to admit that I fall into this category. I use pencil instead of pen because you can erase. I eat vanilla ice cream when there are too many flavor options. I get incredibly uncomfortable with the thought of being tied down. Yet, my awareness to these issues has only made me more cognizant of the opportunities that surround me. 

I have gotten much more courageous in the last couple of years, and I have learned that in life, as well as in love; it's worth taking a chance-embracing the opportunity. As a woman I will be the first to tell you that we dwell on lost opportunities, because in our minds everyone of those opportunities could have been our future boyfriend or husband. 

Yet, I also cherish travel and see it as an amazing opportunity to discover new things. I went to Portland over a year ago on my first solo trip, I didn't know a soul, but was going to run a marathon, and see the city. This ended up being one of the most terrific and life altering trips. 

On my four day trip, I went on 2 dates with two different men, ran a marathon, and cried at a farmer's market.  I mean what else could you ask for right? But more importantly it taught me to seek out opportunity. I will admit that you will not always feel confident with your choices you will wonder if you are making the right decision. I mean there was one point on one of my dates in Portland when I thought I might be chopped up into little pieces and never to be heard from again, but I still don't regret it.

I guess what I want to say is that opportunity is all around us, it's waiting for us. This week I encourage you to push yourself to reach out for those things you are scared to do, to say, or even to dream. Don't be ashamed to dance in the snow. I think you will be surprised by what doors will open when you are eager and open to new opportunities.