meus intuitus

Archive for January 2011

limiting beliefs

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I just read a blog about limiting beliefs and it has made me realize the dangers of my cynical view of people.  “Limiting beliefs are statements about life that we are emotionally invested in. They color our thoughts, feelings and choices. They skew our perceptions and influence our actions—so that the consequences we get reinforce them.”

What is it that I believe?  I believe that, in general, people are zombies.  People are unaware of themselves, people are unreflective, and people have nothing to offer me.  The guy standing in line in front of me?  Probably a douchebag.  The girl with him?  Probably an airhead.  This is what I believe…  Not all the time, but far too often I realize now.

For sure, there are many douchebags and airheads in this world, but I can’t go through life considering every stranger so harshly—if nothing else, it’s far too much negativity to carry around.  From now on, I will assume the best rather than the worst in the average stranger.

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January 30, 2011 at 9:42 pm

bonds

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Individualism, what is it?  It’s about how rich you are, how perfect you are, how well others understand you.  It’s a euphemism for selfishness—selfishness of matter, of morals, of relations.  It is the social philosophy of this modern age.  But consider, even among the most rich, virtuous, and renowned, whom among them are content?  It is the ones with community, friends, and family.  Realize, life is not chiefly about being yourself.  Life is about being together.  So hold your individualism with caution—else one day you wake up an individual… and nothing more.

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January 29, 2011 at 9:45 am

new objective

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People showboat a lot in medical school.  Flexing your mental prowess before your peers and mentors is an unspoken element in the curriculum.  Unfortunately, I have not the superb detail retention, quick recall, nor the abundance of desire for showboating.  As a result, I often find myself feeling inept due my relative lack of contribution in some group situations.  This feeling will be eradicated—otherwise things will only get more difficult for me as I enter my clinical rotations, where vocalizing is graded and the physician mentors are vicious.  People will talk more than me, residents will belittle me, and I will have to study more than I feel is fair, but never again will I allow myself to feel inferior.

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January 26, 2011 at 1:16 pm

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it’s late

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We’re studying anatomy now.  With soft piano ballads encouraging my right brain, I look upon these vertebrae considering not their nomenclature, but the countless who have come before me—who have looked upon these same shapes, who have pursued these same ideals, who have felt this same way.

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January 25, 2011 at 9:39 pm

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the departed

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I unzipped the blue nylon bag to give the elderly lady inside her last bath.  She had a black accumulation spotted across her form.  I dipped the brush in a basin of soap and began to scrub.  I scrubbed and scrubbed.  My partners scrubbed as well.  She had a rope strung around her back.  It looked uncomfortable.  I lifted her up, cradling her formalin-fixed neck in my arm.  She was heavy.  She was heavy, rubbery, and stiff.  My partners removed the rope from beneath her.  Her back was still dirty.  She needed to be flipped.  Positions, and… heave.  Heave!  We tipped her onto her side.  We flipped her onto her face.  Ah, her back.  So dirty!  I scrubbed and scrubbed.  My partners scrubbed as well.  I rinsed her off.  All better.  All clean.  I draped a damp anti-fungal cloth over her.  I zipped up the blue nylon bag.  We dissect her shoulder on Friday.

Lady…  Thanks in advance for teaching me.  I’ll do my best.

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January 25, 2011 at 9:18 pm

minutia

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I am not cramming.  I have been very dilligently keeping up with the material.  Yet still, at this this exam weekend, I am on my 24th hour of study in the last 48 hours.

Memorization is my weakness.  Will is my strength.

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January 22, 2011 at 9:10 pm

heartbeat

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I listened to a 28 day old heart today—an impossibly tiny 150 beats per minute.  Infants are incredible things—little wailing balls of meat and love that fatten and stretch out into people.

Little meat ball, I am excited for you.  May your blankets be warm, your child years wondrous, and your first love true.  Also, may your defeats be revealing, your passions irrational, and your melancholy deep.  See it all, do it all, feel it all.  Have a good life little meat ball.

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January 18, 2011 at 8:48 pm