Survival

Mark Pollan wrote, in his book In the Defense of Food, that hot dogs are a staple survival food if you were ever stranded on a deserted island.  How ironic is it that I find myself also surviving on hotdogs as a staple form of protein and fat (and chicken lips and pig guts) on this island of Cuba?

The first week of my last 16 weeks of my semester was an overwhelming week of new classes--genetics, pharmacology, pathology, microbiology, community medicine, psychology, and P.E. (to make sure that we are getting some type of exercise).  Amongst hotdogs, I somehow survived on a total of 20 hours of sleep during the week with the aid of a bottom-less coffee mug and feeling soulful while getting my rhythmic booty-shake on to some Stevie Wonder.  Six out of my seven classes are being taught by physicians, including my pathology teacher who is the head of her department.  Their enthusiasm to teach and share their vast professional and life experience makes me realize I have still so much to learn.  Really?!  This week, I was once again invited by a renowned pediatric oncological surgeon to accompany him during his surgery days on any Thursday or Friday at his hospital.  I get this priceless education for free?!?!  Oh wait…I forgot I actually get paid by the Cuban government $4/month to study medicine.  Thank you, Cuba. 

Crocs by Day...Cowboy Boots by Night

While most of my cohorts were traveling around the country during these past few weeks that we have had away from classes, I was perfectly happy sitting in my 3x6 space snacking on popcorn and sipping on my version of a Cuban latte studying systemic pathology.  Am I getting old or what?  Actually, maybe it’s just me being so focused on my reason for being here and loving medicine so much, that I chose to be that homebody who is perfectly content with sitting in my gifted, oversized San Bruno Fire Dept t-shirt, snacking on popcorn, drinking coffee, studying hours on-end simply because the material intrigues me.  I wouldn’t have spent my 3-weeks of no class-time any other way.  Now, I am transitioning into my last semester of my basic medical sciences here at ELAM.  Then, it’s off to the teaching hospital Salvador Allende in La Habana for 4 years where I will gain all of my hands-on clinical experience.  God…I can’t wait, but at the same time I am beginning to appreciate how I really have been taken care of at the ELAM campus.  My job here is to study, and I get paid for it.  We have “tias” who work at the school who cook for us and clean up after us (when there is not a soap opera on or it’s not nap time).  This is where I really begin to learn about medicine.  I will begin to integrate the physiology, embryology, histology, and clinical theory I have received over this past 1.5 years and begin to integrate it into pathology.  Understanding disease!!!  I guess if you don’t get excited about it as I am, then nobody will.  Actually, my buddy Heather will.  You know, she’s my cohort from Texas who has become a hood ornament on my bike, actually more like a bumper sticker since she rides behind me.  I am so blessed to have found a cohort and a friend who compliments me like she does.  I realized that even though I might not necessarily befriend everyone in my program, I hope that in 4.5 years my cohorts and I will support each other as we begin transitioning back into a system that we have all rejected.  Whether we like it or not, we have formed a family—a big, multi-racial, bi-polar, dysfunctional family.  We will look to one another for a network of support, as we begin working in the U.S. healthcare system that is not founded upon the ideal that health is a human right.

So, this Valentine’s Day, I will be starting a new semester, saying hello again to my Crocs and lab coat and hopefully soon will have an occasion to rock my red cowboy boots again.  Oh yeah…much love to you on this Valentine’s Day.   By the way, I’m so grateful that I don’t have to deal with the commercialization of Valentine’s Day anymore.  Phew!