Backwards, Forwards, and Edwards

Overheard in the Pediatric Clinic

2012-02-04T11:19:00.000-06:00

Last week I spent some time in the pediatric clinic downtown on rotation. Working with kids is always fun, because (as Bill Cosby told us) kids say the darndest things.

No exception this week. Here are a few things I overheard in the clinic...

**5 yr old girl

Student: How are your teeth doing?

Kid: Good.

Student: Do any of them hurt?

Kid: Umm...yes. One day one of my teeths hurted and then it didn't hurt anymore.

Student: Ok. Then I guess we won't worry about that.

**4 yr old girl

Student: [walks into the exam room]

Kid: DON'T TICKLE ME!!!!!

Student: Ok.

**6 yr old boy

Student: Hi, I'm going to brush your teeth for you today.

Kid: With what kind?

Student: What kind of what?

Kid: Toothpaste.

Student: I think it's bubble gum flavor.

Kid: Can you chew it?

Student: Sure.

**8 yr old boy

Student: What do you want to be when you grow up?

Kid: A mechanical engineer. I make straight A's and my birthday is tomorrow and we're going to Peter Piper Pizza for my party and I'm going to have 10 pieces of pizza and I'm going to have presents and also I don't want my sister to come.

**All kids under the age of 3

Student: Ok, Mom, if you can hold little buddy in your lap and lay his head in my lap so I can check his teeth...

Kid: WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

The most exciting story came from one of the pediatric residents, though. One day he got a text message with a picture attached from his friend who is a dentist in another city. The text said, "This denture was made in 2003 and was not taken out or cleaned until today (Jan 30th, 2012)."

The accompanying picture was incredibly disgusting. If you're curious, you can google "dirty dentures" to see some examples, but for the weaker stomached readers, I decided not to include the picture. You're welcome!

The major topic of conversation after that text was: How much money would it take for you to lick that denture? The terrifying truth is that the longer people were in school, the less money they would take to lick the denture. Some of the 3rd year pedo residents were saying they would do it for $1,000. Just a little more proof that my impending graduation will allow me to narrowly escape with my sanity (and that pedo residents have lost theirs).

Dial M for Moron

2012-01-14T21:12:00.001-06:00

When we need new dental patients at school, we look through application forms that prospective patients fill out online. Applicants can put either their phone number or email address on the form so we can contact them to schedule a screening exam.

I went through several forms yesterday at school looking for new patients. Some of them were automatically shoved into the "no" pile. (Seriously, if you want to be a patient at the school, why would you write "I am terrified of the dentist and have to be held down to get treatment"?) Others I put into a "will call" pile.

Most people, like myself, don't answer calls from unknown numbers, so I usually expect that I'll have to leave a message and then hear back later. I left messages for about 10 patients yesterday afternoon, and got calls back from a few who made appointments.

Later that night, however, I got a strange call.

Me: Hello?

Caller: Hello.
Me: Can I help you?

Caller: Can I help you? You called me.

Me: (Suspecting this is a potential patient I had called) Oh, ok. What's your name?

Caller: (Indignant) What's your name?

Me: (Now unsure if this is a potential patient I called or just a crazy person who dialed my number) I'm sorry...who is this?

Caller: You call me! What's your name?

Me: (Laughing at the stupidity) Sir, I'm sorry, but I need to know you're name.

Caller: (Angry) Why would I tell you my name? You laugh at me! What you try to do? Sell me videos?

Me: Ok, I think this must be a wrong number. Bye bye.

Caller: Yes, I think so. Bye.

Three minutes after I hung up the phone, I got a call from the same phone number. I did not answer (fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me). This was the message:

Caller: Lauren? Lauren...I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Lauren. Call me back. I'll come see you at the dentist.

Number one, he still didn't tell me his name, so I don't know who he is (the number he called back on must have been different that the one he put on his form--believe me, I checked). Number two, I don't have any appointments available for crazy patients. I've already reached my quota on that one.

Excuses

2012-01-09T20:09:00.000-06:00

Excuse me for not blogging for two weeks. I have been very busy with the following:

1) Playing with all my Christmas presents.

I got some really amazing presents this year, but I'm gonna have to keep you in suspense on what they are because I need my camera card to upload the photos and, well, I'm upstairs...the camera card is downstairs...it's just too much work. (Speaking of playing with Christmas presents, though--one of my friends told me that her dad made a Christmas itinerary for the family on Excel. The Christmas Day schedule had three hours blocked out for "playing with Christmas presents." My friend asked her dad, "Do you think we're still 6 years old and getting Lego's for Christmas?!? We don't need time to 'play' with sweaters, new underwear, and candy." Her dad said they could stick to the schedule or leave, so they did their best to come up with games like 'I wonder who I'm gonna re-gift this to next year' and 'Who's gonna return this for store credit.')

2) Consoling my dental school friends over failed attempts to take the National Board Exam.

Dental students have to take 2 written exams to be licensed by graduation. Students take the first exam (covering basic sciences) after their second year of dental school, and the second exam (covering clinical knowledge) during their fourth year of dental school. The exams are long and arduous, and must be taken at a Prometric testing center on a computer. Part 2 of the exam is 500 questions long and spans two days of your life. My test this year went fine, but several of my friends had technical difficulties during the test. For example, one friend began taking the test and after 100 questions or so, when she got to the section that requires Xray interpretation, she realized that her computer wouldn't show any images. It is very difficult to interpret Xrays when you can't see the Xrays. The proctor told her she was welcome to complete the test without being able to see the images, or she could reschedule. (She rescheduled...because option A really wasn't an option, was it?) Later that month another friend was just finishing up her studying after 4 weeks of cramming for the exam when she got an email saying this: "Due to technical difficulties, your test tomorrow morning has been cancelled. Please call to reschedule." Ouch. The worst story is this one: My friends Lacie and James took their tests on the same day. Lacie had finished with 400 questions (the entire Day 1 series) and was just checking back over a few questions that she wanted to review when the entire computer system at Prometric crashed. She and James waited for 2 hours only to find that all their answers had been wiped out and they would have to reschedule and take the entire test again. Oh yeah, and during Lacie's retake the computers crashed again. We're basically having to start a support group for students with Boards-related nervous breakdowns.

3) Saving lives.

While driving from Abilene to Fort Worth during the Christmas holiday, Jeffrey and I (and anyone else travelling on I-20 that day) came across a huge traffic accident on the highway. An 18-wheeler had broken through the median and hit another 18-wheeler head-on, and 15 other cars were hit in the domino effect that ensued. No, Jeffrey and I did not heroically run out of the car and give life-saving CPR to the victims. In fact, we weren't even allowed near the accident--we, and every other car travelling that stretch of highway were diverted to a two lane, very slick from the rain, poorly paved road that would take us around the wreck and back to the highway. It was there that we saw an SUV slide off the shoulder of the road, over correct, spin 180 degrees, and slam into a barbed wire fence and mesquite tree. We turned our car around and really did start to review our CPR training in our heads as we expected the worst, but by the time we got to the car, the girl who had been driving was already getting out and cursing about the damage to her car (not a nice thing to do, but a sign that her brain and vital organs were probably still intact). We had her wait in our car with us for the police since it was raining, so I guess we didn't save a life, but we did save her from catching her death of cold, which is almost just as good.

4) Catching up on my TV shows.

I probably didn't need to catch up on my TV shows because I mostly can tell you what's going on without looking. The Real Housewives of any given county are still not getting along. The Teen Moms are still unsuccessfully trying to hold together family units made up of a cute baby, a hard working but inexperienced teenage mom, and a completely worthless, unshaven and unemployed baby daddy. (But I went ahead and watched them anyway.)

5) Oh yeah, I have school.

I almost forgot about it during my long Christmas break, but school didn't forget about me. The final countdown has begun. I started the first day of my last semester (EVER?!) of school on January 2nd, and I've been fighting a bad case of senioritis every day since. And so resumes the blogging...

Mary Christmas

2011-12-25T09:08:00.003-06:00

Merry Christmas, everyone!

Jeffrey and I were woken up last night/this morning not by reindeer on the roof, but by the sound of multiple text messages from Tommy.

4:05 am--Wake up christmas

5:05 am--Wake up christmas

5:08 am--Wake up mary cristmas

5:26 am--Wake up for christmas

5:36 am--Come here now mary christmas

It's 9:07 am now....if you haven't opened your gifts yet, what are you waiting for mary christmas? Get up and get to it mary christmas!

Written by Lauren

Bed, Bath, and Beyond All Understanding

2011-12-24T11:46:00.000-06:00

Let me give you a short history lesson...

Once upon a time, my brother dated a girl named Shmaitlin*. He and Shmaitlin dated during high school, but broke up shortly after going to different cities for college. As far as we knew, the break up was as amicable as a break up can be.

*Names have been changed to protect the innocent...and guilty.

Since then, Greg has gone on to date a few other girls, find the one he wanted to marry, marry Courtney, and generally move on with his life. Shmaitlin, apparently, has not moved on. Greg and Courtney arrived upon this information at the most curious of settings: Bed, Bath, and Beyond.

Greg and Courtney stopped by BBB (as my mom and I call it, because we go there so often we're on a ~~first-name~~ acronym basis) to pick up a Christmas gift last week, and while browsing the aisles of cups, napkin rings, and coffee makers, Greg caught a glimpse of Shmaitlin. He politely waved and said hello, and then moved to the next aisle.

On the next aisle, a boy he'd never seen before walked up to him, held out his hand for a handshake, and said, "Hi, I'm Shmevan, and I just wanted to meet the d*&%#$bag that made the biggest mistake of his life letting Shmaitlin go."

Greg, having shook his hand as a reflex, and now being locked into a conversation with this strange beginning, said with uncertainty, "You're welcome?" (Because after all, if Greg hadn't broken up with Shmaitlin, Shmevan wouldn't be with her now, so Greg was hoping this was some ill-timed thank you. It was not.)

No sooner had he said 'you're welcome' than Shmevan used the hand still locked in a handshake to wrench Greg toward him and grabbed his neck with his other hand. Shmevan growled, "I think we need to go outside and talk about how you treated my girl."

(As an aside, when relating this story to us, Greg had to stop here because we all began to offer our suggestions as to what he should have said in response. I said Greg should have leaned forward and whispered, "Dude, Santa is watching!" Jeffrey said, "Greg, you should've dropped your BBB purchases on his toe and then made a run for it. You might not be the biggest guy, but you can run a lot longer than most people. My grandpa said he would have just taken him outside.)

Without our suggestions, though, Greg had to handle the conflict himself, so he just said, "Shmevan, I'm here to buy a Christmas present, and that's not really how I handle things."

Shmevan tried a couple more times, unsuccessfully, to get Greg to go outside and fist fight over done-her-wrongs from 4 years ago, but to no avail. My brother is a rock.

And Shmevan, if you're reading this, the Oglesby family now packs heat every time they go to bath accessory stores. Buyer beware.

Written by Lauren

Family Follies

2011-12-22T14:07:00.000-06:00

It's holiday time, which means lots of time with family and, naturally, lots of laughs (especially if you're related to the sort of people I'm related to). Two of my favorites so far:

On Saturday night, Jeffrey and I attended the wedding of my cousin, Jay Tindol. The wedding took place at the Chapel on the Hill at ACU, and everything was beautiful. The groom's brother (another one of my cousins, Tyson) was the best man. Tyson is about six feet, five inches and probably still growing. I'm sure they had a time finding a pair of tuxedo pants in size 32 x 44.

My dad performed the ceremony and did a really wonderful job, but unfortunately his performance was overshadowed when Tyson began to weave back and forth on his feet during the ceremony. Luckily, the groomsman behind him noticed the unsteadiness, so by the time Tyson actually fainted, the groomsman had a firm hold on both his arms from behind.

The good news was that the groomsmen were safe from the awful fate that dominoes endure when lined up in a row and one domino tips over. The bad news was that tough the "catcher groomsman" had a good hold on Tyson's arms, he couldn't really move the NBA-sized unconscious boy anywhere, so they just stood there for 5 uncomfortable seconds looking like a poorly-drawn teepee while the audience awkwardly giggled.

Finally, another groomsman stepped up and grabbed Tyson's top half, and at the same time Jay (the groom) scooped up Tyson's legs and the three of them carried Tyson down the stairs and to the floor in front of the first row. By this time, Tyson had begun to regain consciousness. Minutes later, the crowd clapped for him as he jumped (in one long-legged bound) back to the stage and his place to the groom's right just in time for the recessional.

After the wedding, Jeffrey and I drove over to Sharon Allen's BBQ to eat dinner with Jeffrey's mom's side of the family. At one point, Jeffrey got up to use the restroom, and (monkey see, monkey do) his brother Tommy soon followed. When Jeffrey got back he wondered aloud, "I hope Tom remembered to lock the door to the bathroom...it's just a one room/one toilet situation over there."

No sooner had he uttered this when Tom came back. Darren asked Tom if he had remembered to lock the door.

He responded (without a hint of embarrassment), "No, but somebody came in and then locked it for me."

What a holiday surprise for that poor, poor patron!

Written by Lauren

Ramblin' Man

2011-12-16T08:53:00.000-06:00

Lord, I was born a ramblin' man
Tryin' to make a livin' and doin' the best I can
And when it's time for leavin', I hope you'll understand
That I was born a ramblin' man
--The Allman Brothers Band

I don’t blog that often, mostly because Lauren is a much better writer but also because I just don’t have that much to say in a blog post. My thoughts are usually only deep enough to warrant 140 characters or less. Nevertheless, here I am today writing to inform y’all of my life for the past few months.

Since late October, I have been traveling around the state interviewing for residency positions at various programs. I must admit that it was very exciting at first – traveling to different cities, staying in swanky hotels (for free!), dining at fancy restaurants (for free!), wearing my new suit, and getting swag-bags full of coffee mugs, flash drives, candy, key chains, etc. But then a few weeks ago I woke up at 2:45am and couldn’t remember what city I was in (the blaring horn from a tanker in the harbor reminded me that I was in Galveston); that was the moment it became un-fun.

Another less-than-enjoyable part of the whole process has been the driving. I got the oil in my truck changed on November 18th, and by December 6th it was due to be changed again. Also, you can only cycle through your CDs and iPod playlists so many times before you get tired of your music. (By the way, you know you’re traveling a lot when you see the same 18-wheeler headed down I-10 one week and I-30 the next. How do I know it was the same truck, you ask? Let’s just say he had a very suggestive pair of mud flaps and a mildly racist bumper sticker.) Here is a quick recap of my travels:

Oct. 20-23
San Antonio to Lubbock - 388.2 miles
Lubbock to Abilene - 163.4 miles
Abilene to San Antonio - 245.8 miles

Nov. 6-7
San Antonio to Houston - 197.3 miles
Houston to San Antonio - 197.3 miles

Nov. 18-22
San Antonio to Longview - 347.0 miles
Longview to Oklahoma City - 330.6 miles
OKC to Austin - 388.5 miles
Austin to San Antonio - 80.6 miles

Nov. 23-25 (Thanksgiving)
San Antonio to Rogers - 146.2 miles
Rogers to San Antonio - 146.2 miles

Nov. 27 - Dec. 3
San Antonio to Galveston - 250.5 miles
Galveston to Temple - 221.4 miles
Temple to Dallas - 132.7 miles
Dallas to San Antonio - 278.1 miles

Dec. 4-6
San Antonio to Houston - 197.3 miles
Houston to San Antonio - 197.3 miles

Dec. 11-13
San Antonio to Ft. Worth - 265.3 miles
Ft. Worth to Memphis (TN) - 485.7 miles
Memphis to Ft. Worth - 485.7 miles
Ft. Worth to San Antonio - 265.3 miles

TOTAL MILEAGE: 5410.4 miles

I still have some interviews in January so that total will continue to increase in the New Year. It may sound like I’m complaining (because I am a little bit), but I do feel extremely blessed to have received so many interview invitations. It’s a good problem to have, I suppose. And someday soon it will all be worth it when I finally get a job.

On the upside, all those hours in the car have allowed me to practice and perfect my ability to mimic the guitar talk-box à la Peter Frampton, Joe Walsh, and Bon Jovi. I also now know all the hot spots for excellent truck stop dining along the major Texas highways, as well as which locations have either clean or highly-questionable bathroom facilities. So next time you’re in Texarkana, make sure and stop at The Roadrunner for a clean toilet, a cup of coffee, and the Jumbo BBQ Burger – tell ‘em Jeffrey sent ya!

Pick a Card

2011-12-15T22:54:00.003-06:00

Merry Christmas, everyone!

The last year has really flown by. As it says on our Christmas card, we are beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel as far as school is concerned. Here’s a little look back at this year…

Jeffrey and I both finished up the Spring semester of our 3rd year, but not at the same time. Jeffrey’s last rotation extended through the end of June, meaning that his 3rd year was a marathon of 12 months working in the hospital with very few holidays, many mornings that started in the wee hours, and even one icy day that required him to walk to the hospital when a storm turned the roads into slip’n’slides. My semester ended in the middle of May, but my Fall semester started again the first week of July, so we only got to enjoy 5 days of summer freedom together. Apparently we have finally transitioned into the grown up world where summer is just another day that you go to work, only hotter.

Speaking of hot, we managed to float the river during our week-long reprieve. We traveled to the Comal with a group of friends from college, tied together 12 rafts, and enjoyed a summer day on the water. In keeping with San Antonio tradition, we drove straight from the river to the Gristmill in Gruene for some fried onion rings, fried chicken, and French fries. (We’re still working off those calories 5 months later.)

Both of us had another round of National Board exams to take this year, Jeffrey’s in the summer and mine just a couple of weeks ago. It’s strangely dissatisfying to spend thousands of dollars for the privilege of taking a 500 question test, but at this point we’ll pay anything to get those magic initials behind our names.

My brother got married in November to a girl named Courtney Yoder. She’s cute and smart and fun to be around, so we’re pretty sure that Greg tricked her into marrying him. We tried desperately to convince her that instead of taking his name, she should do the modern thing and combine their last names. We felt that ‘Courtney Yoglesby’ had a nice ring to it, but she decided to go with plain old Oglesby. They are now living happily ever after in a love shack in Abilene owned by the rental home tycoon, Robert Oglesby.

At some point this year, Jeffrey decided that he would become an Internist. What’s an Internist, you ask? Simply put, an Internist is a doctor for adults who does not do surgery. So if you’re an adult and you saved that buy one, get one free prostate exam coupon we sent as our Christmas card in 2009, feel free to cash in!

So what’s next? Jeffrey is interviewing through January at various programs for a residency position in Internal Medicine. Most of the interviews are in Texas, but a few are out of state. We’re trying to keep an open mind about where to go next (and our parents are praying daily that our minds are closed to every program except the ones closest to them). Once all the interviews are done, students rank programs, and programs rank students, and then the Wizard of Oz matches the two lists. Then one fine day in March, we will find out where we’ll spend the next 3 years of our lives.

Both of us are graduating on May 27th, but I don’t have to complete a residency, so I’ll be job-hunting starting in March, and hopefully I’ll be drillin’ and fillin’ by June. I feel ready to branch out on my own at this point. After all, I have spent the last four years learning how to scare the spit (literally) out of my patients, and now I’m ready to have a go at it unsupervised.

It's been a busy but great year, and we can't wait to see what 2012 has in store. We hope you all have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

TB or not TB? That is the question.

2011-12-12T21:29:00.002-06:00

I got an email message last week from our student health clinic stating that it was time for my yearly Tuberculosis skin test.

For those of you who aren't dorks, let me explain that TB tests are done by using a syringe to place some tuberculin bacteria just below the skin and then evaluating the area within 48 hours. A huge swelling indicates that you have been exposed to TB.

Unfortunately, last year the goober who gave me my skin test shoved the needle so deeply into my arm that it bled and bruised for several days after. (I know that none of you feel sorry for me, a dental student who gives people shots every day, but you should!)

Understandably, this year I was not excited about going in to get my annual subcutaneous/deep vein TB test. I was also less than enthused about the prospect of trying to even find a time to go in. Last year I got one half day off each week to take care of obnoxious errands such as this, but this year I have my Implant Selective on my half day off, so it becomes quite a chore to find time during business hours to go in.

Luckily, today the selective got finished early, so I ran over to the health clinic to get my test done.

It did not go well.

I walked into the clinic and was pleased to find that there were no other students waiting to be seen, so I assumed I could quickly get the test. I approached the glass window and watched as the receptionist attempted a smile (one that more closely resembled a grimace), then partially slid open the window.

Receptionist: Can I help you?
Me: Hi, I'm here to get my TB test.
Receptionist: Do you have an appointment? Because there's another patient here now.
Me: (Wondering how the clinic could be completely overrun by a single patient and a student here to get a TB test that quite literally takes 1 minute to perform) No, I don't. I don't have any time off during the day, but today I finished early so I hurried over to see if you had time to see me.
Receptionist: Let me check with the nurse. (She slides the glass window closed again, as if I might pull a John Q and take the clinic hostage and demand my skin test if not properly barred from entry)

Lo and behold, they decided that the 15-person staff could handle seeing 2 patients at once, so the receptionist returned.

She asked me my full name, my cell phone number, my street address, my social security number, my UTHSCSA badge number, and my shoe size. (Kidding on that last one.) She diligently typed each answer into my computer file. Then she handed me a stack of forms to fill out. Guess what I needed to fill out on the forms? You guessed it...my full name, my cell phone number, my street address, my social security number, my UTHSCSA badge number, and my favorite color. (Kidding again on the last one.)

Why, oh why could she not just fill out the computer form off the paper forms? Or why could they not just ask if there were any changes since I filled out these exact same forms last year? Questions without answers.

When I handed back my stack of redundant papers, the receptionist motioned to a nurse who had been (busily?) sitting in a chair and the nurse came to get me.

Nurse: So today is your only time off?
Me: Well, I technically don't have time off during business hours. I just happened to get done early today.
Nurse: Well, we're open now until 7 pm on Mondays, so you could have made an appointment.
Me: (Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the stethescope today) Oh, I didn't realize you stayed open so late.
Nurse: It's new. (But she said this in a tone of voice that sounded like she felt I should've known better)
Me: Umm...well, thanks for seeing me anyway.

I must say, Nurse Ratched did a very nice job with my TB test. She angled the needle barely beneath the skin and I didn't even bleed.

I quickly left so as not to monopolize any more time away from the other patient (who was apparently hiding somewhere since I saw no one else in the office with no doors on the examining rooms).

The receptionist must have been busy staring at the wall when I left because she forgot to say goodbye.

One flew east
One flew west
One had to fight for her TB test

Comet and Cupid and Donner and...Dixie?

2011-12-12T18:17:00.000-06:00

We had our 4th annual Christmas party two weekends ago and it was a blast. Even though it was a little bit of a last minute party, we had a good group of friends there to celebrate with us.

Adam and Lacie. (Adam is smiling bigger than Lacie because he's already graduated from dental school, and Lacie's still finishing up the year with me. Someday we'll all smile again, Lacie. Probably the day we get our first paycheck in 4 years!

Alexandra and Matthew/American Gothic
(Our parties are very artistic.)

Meet Dixie the Reindog! She does NOT like antlers.

But she LOVES Clayton.

Kathrine, Blake, and Carly

Alli and Jeff

I get a really sick satisfaction out of decorating everything for Christmas in a completely matching theme. I think I have a problem. But how cute is it when all the presents match and every gift tag has identical "Merry Christmas" glitter messages emblazoned on them? (Answer: SO cute!)

Santa Claus is coming to town soon, but don't expect to see his special reindog. She doesn't want to wear her antlers anymore.

Four Letter Word

2011-12-05T22:05:00.001-06:00

I have a new favorite four letter word...

PASS.

I got a letter today that said in bold, capital letters that I passed my National Board Exam.

For those of you wondering, my previous favorite four letter word was "iota," as in, now that I've passed my National Boards, I don't care one iota about studying anymore.

(Kidding!)

Thanksgrubbing

2011-11-29T20:02:00.001-06:00

This year we went to Grampy's (my mom's dad) farm close to Temple for Thanksgiving. We had a smaller holiday than usual because my brother and his new wife (sounds so weird to say 'wife'!) were on a cruise on their honeymoon, and my Uncle Gary, Aunt Lisa, and their two boys stayed in Abilene. With just my mom, dad, sister, Aunt Cindy, Jeffrey, and me, we had a rather quiet break. Don't worry, though, we didn't let the meager showing keep us from cooking like we were trying to feed a small army.

My mom cooked the most incredible feast for turkey day, including (of course) an entire turkey, green bean casserole, sweet potatoes, cranberry sauce, and her famous stuffing. The next day we thought that the seven of us could just munch on the ample leftovers, but Grampy insisted that we cook an entire ham. A whole turkey...an entire ham...seven people. Yeah, we had some leftovers.

Proof that we had fun:

Dixie dog got to come to Thanksgiving this year at Grampy's. Her favorite holiday activity? Sprinting as quickly as possible from one side of the farm to the other. She is the only one who lost weight over the break.

Grampy is pretty great in the kitchen, but all the ingredients in his recipes are measured in "dashes" and "little bits" and "about so much-es," so it's difficult to emulate.

Dad and Leslie shelling pecans. The weather was perfect for porch-sitting!

Remember what I said about sprinting? I had to use the motion capture feature on my camera to catch this shot.

Family photo

Big red barn

Big red barn remix

This is the magazine's version of the Chocolate Gingerbread Toffee Cake.

This is me trying to make said cake. I was planning on showing an "after" shot of the cake, but let's just say that it looked like the opposite of the magazine's cake. Instead of three layers, it was more like 19 layers since every bit of the cake stuck to the bottom of the pans and had to be peeled off in layers. I made the ganache too thin, so it ran all over the serving dish instead of neatly separating the cake layers. Oh yeah, and I added the sugar to the whipping cream too early, so the cream never whipped, and thus, we had no icing on our cake. The up side? Chocolate, gingerbread, and toffee are STILL delicious together, regardless of the presentation!

Fruitcake

2011-11-26T22:16:00.001-06:00

I have sooooo many things to blog about--my brother getting married, the Thanksgiving holiday, taking my board exam, and friends having babies. For now, though, those stories will have to wait, because I'm tired. Fear not, faithful readers, I leave you with this gem of a story brought to you by my very funny honey.

Jeffrey and I were debating about which recipe from the Christmas issue of Southern Living magazine we should try out at Thanksgiving dinner. It was a tough choice, but the final two contenders were the Chocolate Gingerbread Toffee Cake and the Peppermint Cheesecake.

Lauren: Mmmm....I love toffee. And chocolate. And gingerbread.
Jeffrey: What's toffee?
Lauren: It's like caramel...kind of. It's what's in a Skor bar.
Jeffrey: What's a Skor bar? Did you just make that up?
Lauren: Yes, I make up toffee-flavored candy bars in my spare time.
Jeffrey: Hmm.
Lauren: I think I might just do the cheesecake. Cheesecake is a lot easier to make.
Jeffrey: No, don't do that. You don't like cheesecake so you won't eat it. And you should get to eat the fruits of your labor.
Lauren: True.
Jeffrey: Except your kids. You shouldn't eat your kids.
Lauren: So true.

Don't Forget to Remember

2011-11-12T15:10:00.001-06:00

It's commonly known that women who have just had a baby can often become forgetful in the months of insomnia, worry, and adjusting that occur after parturition; however, if you are so forgetful that you need this bumper sticker on your van to remind you that you have a baby, you might want to consider hiring help. Professional help.

*My friend pointed out that this could be a message to first responders if the driver got in an accident, lost consciousness, and wanted to make sure the baby was cared for, but it's funnier my way, so just go with it, ok?

I spotted this sticker on a car in the parking lot of a continuing education lecture series I went to on Friday entitled "Street drugs and their effect on your dental practice." (Yes, I really did hear 6 hours of lecture on street drugs...and yes, I really did want to do drugs after listening to that many hours of rambling about the number of household products that can be huffed, sniffed, smoked, puffed, swallowed, and injected for a high. After that lecture, I give the teens of America two thumbs up for creativity in finding substances that create a high, but only one thumb up on not getting caught...then again, if they're already high they probably have some double vision going on and see two thumbs up either way.)

Identity Crisis

2011-11-07T10:27:00.001-06:00

I'm beginning to have an identity crisis because of situations that continue to arise in my life.

Several months ago I began receiving material in the mail from AARP. This program is meant for people over 55 years of age, so I assumed there had been a mix up and the pamphlet was sent to me by accident. Since then, I've gotten about 20 additional informational packets and offers from the group, each time addressed to me. These old codgers are persistent! I think I may have to call and tell them that I was BORN in '86--I'm not 86 years old.

Secondly, Jeffrey and I worked in the nursery at church yesterday and one of the kids wasn't feeling well so I took her out to the hallway for a little fresh air and quiet. When I came back to the room with the other kids, Jeffrey was laughing hard. He told me that while I was gone one of the kids said, "Hey, Jeffrey, where did your mommy go?"

Suddenly I feel very old. Haha.

myPhone, iPhone

2011-11-05T16:43:00.003-05:00

**Disclaimer: The following is a true story related to me by my friend, Maegan. All parties are innocent until proven guilty in a court of law.

Last week at school there was a patient (we'll call her Melissa) who came into the dental clinic for emergency care. She was assigned to one of our fourth year dental students (we'll call her Sarah). Sarah began her initial exam as per usual, but at one point needed to return to the dispensary to get some supplies for the treatment. She knew that she had left her cell phone on the counter next to her computer, however, when she returned a few minutes later, it was gone.

Naturally, she suspected that the patient might have taken it, but trying to give Melissa the benefit of the doubt, she asked, "Did someone come in here while I was gone?"

Melissa quickly responded, "Nope. It's just been me in here." (*Side note: Melissa, this is where you could really have improved your situation. You could have said that a man in a ski mask ran in and stole the phone. You could have said that another patient took it. Instead, you basically said, "Nope. I'm the only suspect in the lineup!")

Now even more suspicious, but trying to cover her bases, Sarah asked some students nearby if they had moved or seen her phone. All said that they hadn't, so Sarah came back to Melissa. She gave her one more chance, asking if Melissa had "moved" the phone rather than asking if she had "stolen" it. Melissa again denied any knowledge of the phone's whereabouts.

Frustrated, Sarah said, "Alright, then. I'm going to call security because they need to search and I need to file a report. I'll be right back."

As she turned to call the campus police, Melissa suddenly said, "Oh, I don't know where your phone is, but I do remember that there were two phones on the counter. I didn't pick up yours, but I picked up the other one."

At this point, Melissa pulled Sarah's phone out of her pocket. It no longer had the case on it, but it was her phone. Sarah looked at it and said, "Hey, that's my phone!"

Melissa (clearly with the IQ of a rock) said, "No it isn't, it's the other phone." (*Again, Melissa, this was a misstep. Putting aside the fact that this is a lame excuse, even if it had been the truth, you STILL would be guilty of stealing because neither phone was YOUR phone.)

Sarah took her phone back...and Melissa got escorted to the police station.

Just another day in paradise.

Happy Halloween!

2011-10-31T11:50:00.001-05:00

In honor of Halloween, I've decided to tell you a scary story.

Once upon a time there were some people who went trick or treating year after year and ate loads of candy but never, ever brushed their teeth.

The evil Cavity Fairy visited these people and decayed all their teeth.

Luckily, these people knew a dental student named Lauren. Sadly, though, it was too late, and even a prince's kiss couldn't bring these ~~sleeping~~ stinking beauties back to life. So Lauren had to pull them all out. Muah-ha-ha-ha!

And now she has a scary collection of fangs to show on her blog on Halloween to remind everyone to enjoy their candy, then BRUSH THEIR FANGS!

Pumkins and Lentils

2011-10-23T21:31:00.001-05:00

It's officially Fall (although you can't tell by the weather outside). We differentiate between the seasons here by putting up different paintings over the mantle to show that there has been a change, despite the persistent high of ninety degrees in South Texas.

This time I decided to rip off an idea from a Southern Living magazine.

Inspiration:

My rendition:

Jeffrey thinks it looks a little like the Canadian flag, and has been known to salute it while singing "Oh, Canada." The artist in me does NOT appreciate this type of standing ovation for my efforts.

But paintings aren't the only way I've been celebrating Fall. There have also been pumpkins.

My friend Amanda started a craft night once a month for some friends who live in San Antonio. This month's craft was, of course, carving pumpkins. Amanda always decorates beautifully for any party that she throws, and this one was no different. There was even a doormat that senses when someone arrives and invites them to "enter if they dare" complete with scary vampire laughter!

Usually Jeffrey and I aren't much for nicknames, but I guess all this Fall spirit has gotten to me, because yesterday I suddenly found myself calling Jeffrey "pumpkin." He, being a warm-blooded American male, did not care for this nickname, but instead of just asking me to stop, he decided to get even.

I have since been referred to as his little squash, cucumber, green bean, and (my personal favorite) lentil.

Now at night it sounds like this at our house:

Lauren: Goodnight, my little pumpkin. I love you.
Jeffrey: Goodnight, lentil. I love you.
Together: Goodnight, Dixie, our little turnip.
Lauren: [uncontrollable giggles]

Strike Two

2011-10-10T20:15:00.002-05:00

As you avid blog readers will remember, I have blogged before about arguments that ensue when Jeffrey and I watch baseball games together. (And yet it keeps happening!)

The last one was about the appropriateness of the phrase "no hitter" to describe a baseball game in which people can hit the ball or be walked, but cannot earn a base by hitting. I said this should be called a "no base-r." Jeffrey said I should be called a "no brainer."

Most recently I ~~had to~~ got to watch eleven innings of Ranger's baseball with Jeffrey, during which time a discussion about intentional walks came up. Jeffrey tells me I need to set the scene, so here it is:

In extra innings, the Rangers have two outs and just walked a batter to first. The runner on first was a threat to steal second because the pitcher has a slow delivery. (Are any women still reading this at this point?) The commentator said that if the runner did indeed steal second base, it would be a smart strategy to intentionally walk the current batter so that following his walk to first there would be three opportunities for forced outs when the next batter came to the plate (first, second, or third base).

At this comment, I said, "That's lame baseball."

Jeffrey: "That's smart baseball."

Lauren: "It might be a smart strategy, but it's lame. Just because someone's good doesn't mean you should completely take them out of the game."

Jeffrey: "It's just the same as playing a box and one in basketball (ladies, that's when you play zone defense with four people and guard the best player man-to-man) and nobody calls that lame."

Lauren: "That's because it's not the same as a box and one. It's the same as a box and one player tackles your best player on the sidelines and holds him down for the remainder of the play."

Jeffrey: "That's illegal."

Lauren: "I know. And it should be. So should intentionally walking someone in baseball. The bottom line is, baseball is supposed to be entertaining, and watching someone play catch 6 feet out of the strike zone and a big hitter mosey from the batter's box to first base is not entertaining."

Jeffrey: "Besides the fact that it happens less than 5% of the time in each year, it is entertaining to watch your team win, and by winning each team gets more money, so it is to the team's (and therefore the fan's) advantage to win. Furthermore, it's not like it doesn't have it's risks. Walking someone means you have another body on base, so another potential for a score. In addition, using this strategy to create more wins allows general managers more latitude in creating teams filled with all stars, rather than a team with one great player who will often be intentionally walked in these situations."

Lauren: [Having started to watch The Real Housewives of New Jersey sometime around where Jeffrey said "Furthermore..."] "It's lame baseball."

It's 0 and 2 on our marriage + baseball pitch count--it seems we're only one strike away from a lonely walk back to the dugout (single life), so I'm afraid that the next time Jeffrey decides to turn on the Rangers, I might just have to intentionally walk myself to the mall.

Duly Noted

2011-10-03T22:54:00.004-05:00

I like notes.

I don't like them as much as 7th grade girls like them, but I like them. (Speaking of, I recently dug through some of my old notes from junior high and high school that I saved...I learned the following:

#1--We did NOT have enough busy work in class. I could give War and Peace a run for its money on length if I combined all my old notes; although, the content and vocabulary would perhaps not be as lofty. Perhaps.
#2--I had not outgrown coloring at age 18. Very embarrassing.
#3--I have amnesia. I guess we wrote in code to protect against the minority of teachers who paid attention to note passing and would take up and read these literary gems. I saved some of my notes that I felt were "special," but now I can't remember any of the codes we used. I'm old.

For those keeping count, this is the longest bit of writing I've ever put in parenthesis.....and, scene.)

Anyway, I found a new fun website where people post pictures of funny notes they find. A few examples, for your viewing pleasure:

Obviously, my favorites are the notes in response to notes. It's non-confrontationalism (might have just made up that word) at its finest!

All these notes remind me of a little joke my dad and I played while I was in college. There was a bathroom near his office at school that had two entrances/exits. One day, there was a sign on the door that said, "Please use other door," and had an arrow pointing to the right. We thought it would be funny to put an identical sign on the other door with the arrow pointing to the left...back toward the other sign. And it was funny. Hilarious, in fact, to us as we watched people pace back and forth between the doors doing the potty dance.

You think we're mean for doing that? Noted.

Hope

2011-09-25T20:52:00.003-05:00

Today our friend Ryan Mack's mother passed away after a long and courageous battle with breast cancer. We were told that her passing was as peaceful as possible, surrounded by family, and that she absolutely felt the love in the room, and yet it still seemed wrong that the sun kept shining so brightly outside when we got the news. Jeffrey and I both wanted the world (the weather, the water) to bow its head with her passing, but instead, as it always does, life went on.

So those who didn't know the Mack family enjoyed their sunny September day, and those who did know the Mack family enjoyed instead the warmth of the hope that lives in the hearts of believers and reminds them of the better world that Sandy went home to today.

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

-Emily Dickinson

Wasting Gas

2011-09-18T20:57:00.004-05:00

Before I get to the main course of this post, I must publish a few pictures that got lost in the shuffle a few months ago...

This is Buddy, Radar, and Dixie sitting on my antique couch inherited from my great aunt.
(Sorry, mom. We don't usually let the animals sit on the couch, but they were just too cute that night.)

The next is a picture that I painted in a frame that I made. As it turns out, making a picture frame is waaaaay harder than it seems like it should be. Hopefully I enjoy this one, because I'm never making another one.

Finally, the story that spawned a reason for me to include the word "gas" in a blog post. I spent the last week of school on oral surgery rotation extracting teeth. For some reason, we had an unusually high number of patients with serious health problems come in for extractions. Usually when patients come in with health concerns we evaluate their ability to safely undergo the procedure and generally we proceed without any modifications to the procedure (except that I sweat more wondering if I will have to do CPR on said patient).

Occasionally a patient is deemed unable to proceed, so we will refer him to his physician for evaluation or labs before doing the extraction. Usually patients appreciate this level of care and concern, but occasionally they become irritated with the delay. Such was the case of my patient.

The patient had a list of medications and a list of potentially life-threatening illnesses. Most of the patient's maladies were controlled with medication, which generally means we can proceed with extraction, but there was a note on this patient's chart stating that there was a problem with his platelet count (platelets are what helps your blood to form a clot, say, after an extraction, and keep you from continuing to bleed) that had no diagnosis and was of concern. I spoke with my faculty about the situation and we decided that it would be best if we could wait to do the extraction until after the patient's platelet count was under control so that we could make sure he would safely survive the procedure.

As I explained this to the patient, he became irate. Before I even finished talking to him, he stormed out, yelling down the hallway, "Platelets?!? Who cares about platelets?!? You wasted my gas driving down here!!!"

My faculty and I sweetly shouted down the hallway after him, "Come back if you change your mind. We'd be happy to help you."

But something tells me that with gas costing $3.50 per gallon, we may have seen the last of him. So I guess all I can say is that I care about saving teeth and saving lives, but I've had to draw the line somewhere, and the line is right before your gas bill.

I'm so thoughtless.

Cut It Out!

2011-09-17T13:40:00.003-05:00

Ok, I'm sitting at Barnes & Noble trying to study a little bit for my Dental Board exam and suddenly my thoughts about gum disease and cavities are interrupted by a sharp, high-pitched, clicking sound. I look up from my flashcards to find that the middle-aged man next to me has started to clip his fingernails. In the middle of Barnes & Noble. In the EATING AREA. I have so many problems with this.

For those keeping count, this is the second blog post dedicated to anti-public nail-clipping. The last time we wrote about this it was because a man in front of us at church started to clip his TOEnails(!) during communion.

First of all, why is it that men can't seem to find room in their pockets for their keys and wallets (wives are always asked to stow these items in their purses), but they somehow always have space for nail clippers?

Secondly, what kind of freakishly fast nail growth necessitates carrying nail clippers on your person at all times? I think you need to see a doctor if this is something that happens to you.

Thirdly, since when is personal grooming ok to do in public? I'm sure I would get strange looks if I trimmed my beard in public...some things are meant for the privacy of a bathroom. (I don't really have a beard, guys, just trying to be funny.)

Fourthly, would it be too rude of me to make a barricade between myself and the offending nail clipper man from the People magazines next to us so that I can stop having to dodge projectile bits of fingernail heading my way?

Or I guess I could just say, "Cut it out!"

9/11--A Reflection

2011-09-11T21:25:00.003-05:00

Undoubtedly at some point today, you were reminded it was September 11th--the tenth September 11th since the one that changed the trajectory of America’s history forever. The papers yesterday and today were heavy with human interest stories, valiant tales of patriotism, and tearful memories of lives lost. All of America, it seems, is eager to stand together again in the continuing wake of this tragedy. Even as I watch the Cowboys football game tonight, I see coaches and players on the sidelines paying homage to the Fire Department of New York by wearing hats with their insignia on them.

But perhaps no one has memorialized this tragedy better than Michael Arad, the designer of the World Trade Center Memorial. His design, called “Reflecting Absence,” opens tomorrow to the public. In my opinion, this is perhaps one of the most beautiful and poignant monuments ever made.

Rather than rebuild the towers, bigger and stronger than before, Arad chose to dig deeper into the rubble to create reflective pools. Around the pools, engraved into bronze plates, are the names of each and every victim of the September 11th attacks. Around the pools stand over 400 trees, including the Peace Tree, a plant that (like so many survivors) withstood the horrors of that day and now grows stronger every day.

I love this memorial because it symbolizes what our God does for us. When something truly evil strikes, He creates something beautiful from the scar, washes it with cleansing water, and breathes life back into tired limbs.

God bless the USA.

Boots and Biscotti

2011-09-09T21:12:00.004-05:00

For the first time in almost 4 years of post grad education, Jeffrey and I had coordinating days off on a weekday. It was so much fun to have a Friday where we got up and had breakfast together, then got to spend the afternoon shopping and running errands.

During our day of fun, I decided I needed a new pair of cowboy boots. (Those of you who know me are wondering why I ever had cowboy boots in the first place.) Yes, it's true, when I think of boots I usually think of my favorite knee-high, Antonio Melani, black suede, classy, beautiful boots, but this year at school our new group leader declared Fridays to be boot days, and those wearing the incorrect footwear are subject to ridicule, bad grades, and being systematically ignored by Dr. Magness. (Honestly, it's all in fun...but he likes you more if you wear boots, so why not?)

The reason I needed a new pair is three-fold:

1. My old boots were purchased in high school...it's probably time.
2. My old boots were purchased at Limited Too and have rhinestones on them...people make fun of me when I wear them.
3. I really, really, really wanted some.

As Jeffrey would say, "If momma ain't happy, ain't nobody happy." (So we bought me some boots!)

Even in a grainy cell phone photo, you can tell how pretty they are right?
Are you hungry for another grainy cell phone photo? (Or just hungry?) I made biscotti this week to help us survive a grueling chart audit procedure at school. Of the four boys in my group, three asked me what biscotti was and one referred to it as bruschetta. All four ate it and liked it, though.

So am I a boot scootin' cowgirl? Or an Italian chef?

Los dos. (That means 'both' in Spanish. I am a cultural enigma.)

Worst Case Scenario

2011-09-06T08:09:00.003-05:00

Sometimes in life, you just get tired. You get tired of saying the same things over and over again at your job (PLEASE FLOSS!), you get tired of saying the same things at home (PLEASE FLOSS!), and you get tired of saying the same things in your sleep (Just pretend you an orphan...actual sentence I told Jeffrey in my sleep one time).

When this general tiredness strikes me, I start to look for new, more exciting ways to communicate the same old information. Sometimes this is good, and sometimes this is bad. The following is a bad example...

Last week I was on Dental Emergency Clinic duty when a guy came in with a bad toothache. When I did my exam, I found that he had one tooth that was badly broken and infected that was causing his pain, but he had two other teeth that were similarly broken and badly infected, but weren't causing him any pain. When I informed him of these findings, he said, "I just want to get the tooth pulled that's hurting." I told him that I understood and that we would certainly extract that tooth to get him out of pain, but that he really should seek comprehensive dental care for the other two. (This is one of those speeches I repeat a LOT at school.)

I went to go get the extraction forceps and consent forms, and when I got back the patient was ready with a question.

"So, what's the worst that could happen if I don't get those other two teeth taken care of?"

Filtered through my mind, this question sounded more like this: "So, teeth aren't really that important are they, person who's spent 4 years studying them?"

Fed up with my usual speeches on oral disease being linked to systemic disease and tired of saying my speech about 'if you had an infection on your skin you wouldn't just leave it there, would you?' I decided to change it up a little.

I asked him, just to make sure, "Do you really want to know the worst thing that can happen?"

He nodded.

I said, "The infection could go to your brain and you could die."

In my defense, this is the worst case scenario and also a realistic outcome of untreated dental disease. In my offense(?), this almost never happens in generally healthy patients. Again, in my defense, why would you ever ask a medical/dental professional the worst thing that could happen? It's always death. Death is always the worst thing that could happen.

As inappropriate and probably unprofessional as my comment was, I wonder if that patient is frantically looking up dentists in the yellow pages right now to get those other two teeth taken care of...whatever works, right?

Clap twice if you can hear my voice

2011-09-01T08:09:00.003-05:00

I always hated when I was in grade school and teachers did those obnoxious things like say, "Clap twice if you can hear my voice," just to make us stop talking. I had one teacher in bible class that used a cowbell every time we got too loud to signal us to quiet down. One problem with that was that it was just adding another obnoxious sound to the obnoxious sounds of us talking...the other problem was we were in 6th grade and waaaaaay too cool for that.

Nevertheless, the more times I help in the nursery at church, the more often I find myself wanting to say those same things or use those same tricks for behavior modification. I was really nervous to go to Harlingen for rotation because I knew I would see lots of pediatric patients so I was wondering if the teacher within would show up and start telling kids to sit Indian-style and clap twice if they could hear my voice. As it turns out, it's not really the kids who need behavior modification, it's the adults.

In Harlingen, I saw about 30 kids. Even as young as five years old, we could ask them to put their hands on their tummy and they would do so and leave them there for the entire procedure.

True story: Yesterday my friend had to tell her ADULT patient to sit on his hands because he kept flailing when she was trying to give an injection. Very dangerous...very annoying.

In the afternoon another friend had a patient who was (admittedly) in no pain but was feeling some pressure as the student extracted a tooth. Every time an instrument came near her mouth, even before the student actually touched the tool to any part of her, she would scream/moan/whine a little. She was so loud and so persistent that our faculty had to ask her to please use her inside voice because she was making other patients nervous down the hallway.
Let's get biblical...Jesus said, ""I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven."

But I don't really think he meant we should have to sit on our hands at the dentist...

Pretendodontics

2011-08-29T20:45:00.003-05:00

This post will be like those Choose Your Own Adventure books that I used to read in grade school...

OK, how did this book ever get published?!? Someone thought, "Oh, sure. A book for kids called You're Going to Die and a picture of a precious, crying 6 year old...fantastic idea worth printing."

If you've never read this blog before, go to #1. If you read this blog a lot and are tired of hearing me complain about dental school, go to #4.

#1--Every procedure in dental school has a point value, and every dental student needs a certain amount of points each year to graduate. With all the talk about points and such, sometimes it feels like a giant game at Mr. Gatti's. Other times it's a little more like being trapped on a twisted carnival ride. I digress...today my patient no showed for the second time. Do you know how many points a no show is worth? Zero. Sometimes a sad student like myself can finagle her way into some points on no show days by helping in the emergency clinic or the oral surgery clinic, but today they had both clinics under control. If you like happy endings, go to #3. If you like realistic endings, go to #2.

#2--Know what else is worth zero points? Doing root canals on extracted teeth. Root canals have a fancy name--endodontics. (Get it? That's why it's funny to call this post "Pretendodontics," because I did endo, but it wasn't on a real patient...it was pretend.) I crack myself up. Anyway, I did exactly three root canals on three extracted teeth for exactly zero points. Technically, I got good experience out of it, practiced for when I do endo on a real patient, and completed my requirements for my molar endo selective by doing this, but it still felt like a skee ball right in the gutter since no points showed up on the board. Go to #4.

#3--Then I went home and played with my dog. Yay! Go to #4.

#4--So today was point-less. But tomorrow is a new day, and someday soon...May 27th to be exact...there will be no more points. I will be a real live dentist and every day will be...umm...pointless. Ha!

Borderline Insane

2011-08-21T20:06:00.005-05:00

Well, I'm back in San Antonio after my little hiatus in Harlingen...and here's what I learned while I was down there:

1) My friend Lacie wasn't joking when she told me, "There's a border patrol station as you drive from Harlingen back to San Antonio. If you're white, they just wave you through, but if you're Mexican-looking they stop to check your trunk." It really happened just like that.
2) While in Harlingen I worked on lots of kids--I learned that kids will do almost anything for a sticker, including stare down the barrel of a 2 inch needle without flinching. It's kind of scary what they'll tolerate for such a small prize. Then again, it's a little scary how much adults will tolerate for a little bit of money.

3) I'm really ready to be a dentist. A real one. Not a pretend one at the school who has to get checked off on each step of the procedure. Yes, it's a little scary to be the one completely in charge of treatment, but I'm feeling more ready after getting my feet wet in South Texas. All students are required to track the number of patients they see while on rotation--I saw 97 in my two weeks. Compare this to the 12 or so that I will see in the next two weeks at school. The pace was so nice down there!

4) I am NOT cut out to be a hermit. After two weeks of living alone in apartment, I was literally begging people to go to dinner with me. Anyone. Including the greasy old man at the Redbox at the gas station who rolled down his window to blow kisses at me. (That really did happen--the blowing kisses...not that I invited him to dinner with me.) Seriously, though...I almost went insane.
**Note: This is not an actual picture of me. What gives that away? Someone else would have to be in the apartment to take the picture...but I was alone. Totally. Alone.

5) I'm kind of interested in working at a community clinic. I was completely surprised at this feeling--I had always pictured myself graduating and going into a private practice somewhere, but there are some really nice advantages to working in a community clinic, and although it is a different style of dentistry, it's one that is in supreme shortage. Something about that made me really feel like I was doing something worthwhile and noble, and I liked that feeling.

So now I'm back, and Dorothy was right...there's no place like home.

Ice Dream Truck

2011-08-14T18:02:00.002-05:00

You've heard it said that a picture is worth a thousand words, but I just couldn't get my camera out fast enough...so a few words will have to do.

I kid you not--two days ago I spied with my little eyes the most incredible ice cream vending cart in the world. Driving around in my little apartment complex's parking lot were two adult men in a golf cart. Instead of having a back seat in the golf cart, the men had torn it out and cut part of the roof off to make space for the oversized, stuffed arm chair they bolted to the back. On top of the arm chair was an 8 year old girl. At her feet was a large cooler. On the side of the golf cart, in crooked, black letters it read: Julio's Ice Cream Truck.

You can't make this stuff up, people!

Paw-sitive Attitude

2011-08-09T19:23:00.005-05:00

Hi, Blog--I'm still here in Harlingen--banished for two weeks away from my friends, my family, and my school. (I'm not so upset about missing school...more just the friends and family.)

During my isolation time down here, I've been flipping back and forth in my mind between positive attitude and Oscar the Grouch.

When I wake up in the morning:
(+)Ahhh....I slept so well!
(-)Oh....there's no one here to tell about it.

When I'm at the clinic:
(+)This is so neat! I don't have to set up or take down equipment, I always have an assistant to help me, and that's letting me do so much dentistry.
(-)If I were at school, I'd be getting so many points for all this dentistry I'm doing.

When I leave the clinic:
(+)No construction on the roads going home.
(-)No Dixie dog waiting on me at the door when I open it.

When I go to sleep:
(+)So much extra space in the bed when there's only me.
(-)So much emptiness in the bed without my Jeffrey and my Dixie.

All in all, it's going pretty well for me, but there's been a doggie injury back home in San Antonio. All the great-grand(dog)parents and grand(dog)parents may want to sit before reading this: Dixie has gotten a boo-boo on her paw.<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-F77LwTw-Gsk/TkHhd5sPdAI/AAAAAAAABKM/tTBPyIS816s/s1600/paw%2B1.JPG">
Don't worry, like a good (doggie) mom I immediately consulted the authorities, AKA Google, regarding the recommended treatment for paw problems. Google states that injured doggie paws should be coated with neosporin then covered with a bandage of some type to keep the dog from licking it (and I concur).

I swore I would never let my dog wear those silly little costume/clothes they sell at Petsmart, but...

We had to put some socks on her. Black tuxedo socks (it's a fancy injury, apparently). I know that it's not really en vogue to wear black socks with shorts (or, in this case, nothing), but at least she hasn't put on sandals over the top of them...Dad, remember when you thought that was ok to wear in San Francisco? It was NOT.

Anyway, Dixie does not like it. I told her that even though it's a little weird to wear one black sock, it's still lots less weird than any outfit Lady Gaga has ever worn.

South for the Winter

2011-08-07T17:26:00.004-05:00

With the temperature hovering around 105 degrees every day in San Antonio, my school decided to send me further South for the Winter...er...Summer for a South Texas rotation. My assigned clinic is in Harlingen, Texas.

On this map, they've tried to hide the fact that Harlingen is about 5 steps away from the drug wars of Mexico by pretending Texas is bordered on the South by ocean. (It's not.) Never mind the fact that our school made us sign an oath saying that we wouldn't cross the border due to "dangers" on the other side. Do you think they made the drug lords of Mexico do the same?!?

Anyway, the accommodations here are about what you'd expect--run down, paper thin walls, a BYOTP (Bring Your Own Toilet Paper) establishment, and not a decoration in sight, except for the framed "Rules and Regulations" papers from apartment administration.

And here's where the fun begins...

The following are quotes from the apartment's framed rules:

The gate will automatically open Monday - Friday at 5:00 pm. And close for the evening at 7:00 pm. The gate will be close on the weekends.

(The gate is going to be close on the weekends? Close to what?)

Regarding the pool: No profanity, loud music, or Excessive Noise.

(When did the word "excessive" or "noise" become a proper noun deserving capitalization?)

The swimming pool is for tenants and two (2) guests per apartment only. I understand that we all have company from time to time and the numbers may exceed this amount. However 2, 3, 4, kids and "Aunt Sue" who does not live here is considered breaking the rules.

(Take that, Aunt Sue. Busted!)

If you walk your dog at the park. The dog needs to be on a leach.

(I'm going to leave that prepositional phrase as an independent sentence alone for now, but seriously, a leach? A dog wouldn't even fit on a leech. That's just silly.)

Regarding window coverings: You can put up curtains if you wish. No foil paper on windows allowed.

(This rule was listed in two different sections. Apparently they've had problems in the past. Just another way The Man keeps our creative ideas for window dressings squelched.)

Garbage bends are located thru-out the property. Please deposit your garbage in the bends.

(Garbage bend: Not to be confused with a back bend.)

Allergeez

2011-07-27T20:12:00.004-05:00

Something blew in over the weekend (I don't know how that's possible since there hasn't been wind in San Antonio since December) and I woke up Monday with that itchy-eyed, stuffy-nosed, overall gross allergy feeling.

The worst thing about having an allergy attack is that it's not technically a true sickness, so you can't take off from work/school in good conscience, but you feel just as awful as if you had bronchitis or a blinding migraine.

And then there's always the debate: Do I take Benadryl and risk falling asleep while drilling a cavity (the bottle says 'do not take if operating heavy machinery'...do you think that includes dental drills?) or do I stuff a bunch of Kleenex inside my mask and hope for the best?

In other awful news, Jeffrey took part 2 of his Step Exam today. The test started at 9 am and he didn't finish until 5 pm, with only a 20 minute break to have a little snack. Oh my goodness! How smart does a person have to be to become a doctor?

(Answer: Very smart. Like my husband.)

It's going to be quite difficult to wash my hair while crossing my fingers for the few weeks until his scores come in--so don't judge me if it starts to get a little Ke$ha around here.

Doggie Daycare

2011-07-24T22:02:00.004-05:00

This weekend we "dogsat" for some friends. This basically consisted of us actually trying not to sit on the dogs. Our friends have two little white fluffy dogs that weigh about 4 pounds each. The only dog I've ever owned is Dixie, also known as "The Sixty Pound Beast." We're not really used to having to watch where we sit around her.

Anyway, we adjusted to our weekend with tiny, breakable puppies with the help of these instructions from Caleb...

Lucy is the white one, Maggie is the brownish/gray one. If you mix them up they will never forgive you.

Directions:

-1 scoop of food per day in the evening, 8-9 o'clock usually. If you're late Lucy will remind you and be really annoying. Maggie is sometimes funny about eating, but if you sit on the couch and put her bowl on the floor next to you she usually eats.

-If you want Lucy to come, her command is: "GET OVER HERE"
-We didn't realize we taught her that until it was too late...

-Their vet is Babcock North across the street from the old HEB. 210-690-6030
-We hate them, don't take your animals there.

-They stay in their crate at night and during the day. Just tell them to go to bed, they'll do the rest, except lock the crate (no hands).

-Any other questions? Call Bethany!

[Here he drew a tiny, heart]
Caleb

Jeffrey and I spent a while laughing about this. I remembered one helpful hint from Bethany about the dogs, too. She had told me that if you ever want the dogs to leave an area they're in, just yell "GET OUT OF THE KITCHEN!" and they will leave whatever room you're in, regardless of if it's the kitchen, bathroom, or bedroom.

All this valuable/comical information came in handy when Lucy snuck out under a hole in our fence and escaped to the neighbor's backyard. Jeffrey and I stood on the fence slats at 10 pm alternately screaming, "GET OUT OF THE KITCHEN!" and "LUCY, GO TO BED!" until she meandered back to our backyard.

Best part of the weekend? Built in fluffy foot warmers!

Number One or Number Two?

2011-07-19T20:44:00.003-05:00

I took this picture today in the bathroom at school...
There are only two options of what has happened here:

#1--Someone died in this stall, and the police have cordoned off the scene of the crime.

#2--Someone took a very serious, very disgusting, umm...#2.

What really happened? We may never know. One of life's greatest mysteries, brought to you by Lauren.

It's a Dog Eat Dog World

2011-07-18T21:55:00.003-05:00

Actually, in my case, it's a dog eat flip flop world.

We started letting the beast stay out of her crate about a month ago while we ran errands. She usually just sleeps on the couch (which she's not allowed to do when we're home). Yesterday she ate two of my flip flops instead. But instead of eating two of the same flip flop, she ate one flop from each flippin' pair, so I lost two pair of flip flops in one afternoon. (Which begs the question: Does one of my feet taste better than the other?)

Distraught, I left the two unmatched, unmangled flip flops on the floor, wondering if I might try wearing them as a pair. When Jeffrey and I came home from the store today, the beastie had eaten the other two as well.

We put Dixie in a time out and she felt very sorry for what she did (for about 12 seconds). Then she saw a bird outside and had to defend our backyard's honor by running frantically around until the bird left.

I knew we should've gotten a komodo dragon. I'll bet this guy's dragon has never eaten his flip flops. (His kids, yes, but his flip flops, no.)

A Van Down by the River

2011-07-17T17:16:00.004-05:00

I'm feeling a bit alone in the world today as my Uncle Gary is in Tanzania climbing Mount Kilimanjaro (true story, I had to use Wikipedia to double-check that Mt Kili is in Africa...many thanks to my World Geography teacher--er...coach...who made us watch Saving Private Ryan and The Patriot repeatedly instead of actually showing us a map) and my parents are in Lima, Peru.

My parents are doing on a mission trip working with an orphanage there. I wasn't worried about them going until my dad called me the day of the trip and said, "Hola!" heavily pronouncing the "H" sound, and then giggling, "I'm practicing my Spanish for the trip!" He has probably offended most of the locals by now and ruined America's reputation with his butchering of their language. (Just kidding, America's reputation has already been ruined...it happened when we let Britney Spears make that awful movie, Crossroads.)Anyway, with all my family spread out over the globe, I'm getting by with a little help from my friends. Yesterday we floated the river. It was a perfect day--slightly overcast so that the four of us who are eggshell white didn't get burned, but still hot enough to enjoy the cool river water.

Here's a picture of our little group...
(And actually, I wrote the last paragraph before I looked at the picture...no offense, guys, but we all pretty much look pale in the picture. I don't want to hear any more jokes about Casper from you.)

We tied all our rafts together at the suggestion of Caleb, who is an actual History teacher (not one of the ones who makes kids watch Saving Private Ryan), and who told us that the best way to stay together is to form a flotilla. He swears this is a real term from the Spanish navy for a formation of ships. At one point the flotilla failed us, when my raft seceded from the union during a trip down one of the chutes and the Lee's raft began to deflate. Then we had a period of reconstruction and recovered, just in time to raise our legs in happiness for a photographer standing on the banks whose photo we stole online to post here.

Afterward, the Gristmill. Umm...delicious! If you like onion rings the size of your face, you should go there. If you don't, well, just keep enjoying your granola bars and sushi for years after we die of coronary artery disease.

Puppuchino

2011-07-13T19:57:00.005-05:00

Last week Jeffrey and I took a trip to Starbucks for a little late afternoon pick-me-up. As usual, we asked Dixie if she'd like to go on a ride.

She said yes. (Like this, with her eyes...)
We loaded up in the car and Jeffrey and I ordered our drinks (Jeffrey ordered a sensible, plain iced cofffee, and I ordered a high maintenance fru-fru drink, as per our personalities). When we drove around to the window, the man noticed Dixie in the back seat and asked if she would like a "puppuchino."

Huh?

Apparently, Starbucks is a dog-friendly coffee shop, so they offer puppuchinos for little doggies who join their owners at the drive through.

For those of you who aren't in the know, a puppuchino is a cup of whipped cream with a few sprinkles on top.

Dixie. Loved. It.

I have to be honest...I was a little worried about us having a barfucchino afterward, but apparently whipped cream sits nicely on a doggie's stomach.

The only problem now is the crashucchino that happens when all that Starbucks buzz wears off.

The Pessimistic Optimist

2011-07-04T20:07:00.003-05:00

Today Jeffrey and I went to Sonic some happy hour drinks and a popcorn chicken snack to share instead of eating lunch late, then eating dinner late.

The timing of lunch and dinner are important because they are inextricably linked to my late night ice cream binges. These binges have become critically important to me since discovering Krazy Kookie Dough ice cream made by Blue Bell. For some reason the Blue Bell geniuses created this delicious cake batter ice cream and gaudily accented it with psychedelic yellow, pink, and green chunks of sugar cookie dough. I can only assume the reason is because after tasting this delicacy once, you will crave it with Cookie Monster-esque fervor and the bright colors will swirl as you slip into the sugar-induced high. (But I'm only guessing.)

Anyway, when we ordered the popcorn chicken, the apathetic static voice responded, "Sorry, man, we don't have that anymore."

Jeffrey and I stared at each other, mouths agape (but without any popcorn chicken to fill the hole with). Jeffrey suggested mozzarella sticks, but my taste buds had already gotten prepped for popcorn chicken, I declined. We decided instead to go to Dairy Queen and get our chicken bites there, or rather, I decided and Jeffrey had to go along with it because I have to start school tomorrow and he gets to keep having summer.

He was not happy. (Really, he wasn't all that mad, but he just gets a kick out of acting grumpy when I get something I want.)

Once we got to DQ I irritated him once again by asking for honey mustard instead of gravy for our dipping sauce. As we waited for our chicken, he pouted. I offered to ask the DQ worker for gravy, as well.

"Don't," he grumbled, feigning anger.

When we got our order, I asked the guy for some gravy. He bent the rigid DQ employee rules and gave us TWO dipping sauces.

As we drove away, Jeffrey continued his act of sulking. "I can't eat it," he said.

"Why not?" I asked.

He said matter-of-factly, "It's tainted with your disobedience."

We both laughed, and then Jeffrey said, "If someone had just seen that little exchange, they might think we really don't like each other."

The pessimist suddenly turned into an optimist later that night when we went to Pei Wei for dinner. As we walked out of the restaurant, I lamented, "UGH! I don't want to go to school tomorrow! I really do like summer better than school."

Jeffrey responded, "Well, you can get the best of both worlds, because tomorrow is still summer, and you also get to go to school."

Thanks a lot, gravy boy.

Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue

2011-07-02T20:56:00.003-05:00

Something Old

Once upon a time, a long time ago (May 2007), my fiance, Jeffrey, and I took a trip to his parents' house for a little summer vacation. Being in love, but yet unmarried, we had to go through the usual bedtime shuffle routine. It was decided that Tom (Jeffrey's younger brother, who has Down Syndrome) would sleep in his own bed with Jeffrey, and that I would sleep in the back bedroom on the daybed. Being a lazy college student, I planned on sleeping in as late as possible, but the following morning I was woken slightly before dawn by a man's voice saying softly, "Ooooh....cozy!" as he spooned with me in the tiny bed meant for only one person. My sleep-logged body was too tired to turn around, but my groggy mind slowly realized that the person in my bed certainly couldn't be my future husband, because the hands holding my hands felt distinctly different. Finally I turned around and saw the smiling face of my future brother-in-law, snuggling in bed with me.

I slept with my brother-in-law before I slept with my husband. Yikes.

Something New

Fast forward to present day--we are once again celebrating a few days off at Jeffrey's parents' house in Fort Worth. This time I get to sleep with my husband and our dog instead of with Tommy (although two people and a dog in a full sized bed is only slightly less crowded than Tommy and me in a daybed). Sitting at the kitchen table making conversation with Jeffrey's two grandmothers, I had the misfortune of looking up at the exact moment that Tommy chose to try and scurry from the bathroom to his bedroom in his birthday suit. Problem--Tommy is not a fast runner...the war cry loving yelled by his family when he runs to 1st base in one of his baseball games is "He looks like he's dragging a piano behind him." And so, this mad dash from bathroom to bedroom was less of a streak and more of a slow pour of (naked) molasses.

At least I've seen Jeffrey do that before I saw it from his brother.

Something Borrowed

This is a borrowed story (and I'm sure my in-laws are happy to know that it does not have anything to do with either of their sons...or nudity) from one of my friends at dental school. During our summer screening clinic, my friend Sage (who has an Indian accent) received a patient with a thick Chinese accent. As you can imagine, there was quite a bit lost in translation as they went through the 8000 inane questions on our health history questionnaire. When Sage asked, "Have you ever had surgery?" The man responded by pointing to his pelvis and nodding in the affirmative. Sage asked for clarification, "You had surgery on your hip?" The man shook his head and pointed lower, apologizing that he didn't know the word in English. Sage asked, "Did you have surgery on your thigh?" The man again shook his head and tried to say a word to explain. While Sage quizzically looked between the patient and the computer page with a blank space next to surgeries, the Chinese man suddenly figured out the best way to explain. Quietly he stood up, turned around, bent over at the waist, backed his rear up to Sage's face, and pointed precisely to his anus. Sage quickly typed "hemorrhoids" into the computer form and prayed that no one had seen his patient's about face.

Something Blue

School starts again for me on Tuesday, and in an act of sheer rebellion, I got a blue feather clipped into my hair. When I went home my husband looked at me like I'd lost my mind. I told him that feathers in your hair is a big trend right now, but he didn't believe me until I found the news story that my hairdresser had told me about. Apparently, this feather trend is so popular that fishermen (who use feathers to make their lures) have been unable to fish in some areas because all the feathers have been bought up by hair salons.

Ma-ma-ma-my Corolla

2011-06-27T18:08:00.004-05:00

When I graduated from college at ACU in 2008, my parents very generously offered to buy me a car. Of course, I took them up on the offer (I ain't no dummy) and began a car search. After severeal visits to various dealerships, I settled on a Toyota Corolla for its excellent gas mileage and for Toyota's reputation for making cars that last.

As an aside--it was during this time of car shopping that many "experts" were predicting $5+/gallon gas prices for the summer, leading many people to scramble onto waiting lists for the newly-developed Smart Car.
I wonder now, with gas prices rising but still safely under $5/gallon, do people crammed like Vienna sausages in Smart Cars feel...stupid?

Anyway, while I'm incredibly grateful to my parents for this amazing gift, and I enjoy the ease of having my own car and being able to get from A to B whenever or however I need to, I occasionally hate owning a car. I hate it predictably, every 5,000 miles or every 3 months, whichever comes first.

Going in to get an oil change is a horrific situation for most women. We don't know anything about cars, so we inevitably end up buying new air filters and wipers every time a mechanic suggests it. We ask silly questions in silly ways. Example from my last trip:

Me: Hi, I don't know anything about cars...do you guys do this here (pointing to one of the expired stickers on my windshield)?
Attendant: (Matter of factly) State Inspections?
Me: I don't know, is that what this is? It's expired.
Attendant: (Eyes rolling) Yes, ma'am. We do that.

We drive up to the garage and give ignorant answers to the attendant when he asks, "What kind of oil do you want?"

Ummm...whatever kind you put in last time?

Fortunately on my most recent visit, there were at least two men there who were more annoying than me to the mechanics (I hate to be last).

First was Mr. Grampa.

Attendant: (Yelling in the waiting room) Mr. Grampa? Mr. Grampa?
--No response
Attendant: (Louder) Mr. Grampa?!?
Mr. Grampa's wife: Ted. TED! They need to talk to you.
Mr. Grampa: Don't yell, Enda, I'm right here.

(At this point I knew that the octagenarian was not going to be easily handled.)

Mr. Grampa: What do you want?
Attendant: Hi, Mr. Grampa. We changed your oil for you today, sir, and everything looks good, but we wanted to let you know that your brakes are getting low, they'll probably need to be replaced the next time you come in.
Mr. Grampa: Doesn't my car have front brakes and rear brakes?
Attendant: Yes, sir.
Mr. Grampa: Well, as long as one set is good, that'll be fine.
Attendant: Sir, that's not very safe, and both sets are actually low.
Mr. Grampa: (A little miffed, at this point) Son, look at me.
Attendant: Umm...yes, sir, I am.
Mr. Grampa: How long do you think I'll be driving that car? Think the brakes will last me that long?
Attendant: (Unsure what to say) Uh...I don't know, sir. I think you should, uh, just get them replaced the next time you come in.

Then there was Mr. Identity Theft:

Talking on his cell phone in the middle of the waiting room, loudly: Yeah, so I told Bob that I'm over it, but the thing is, I just don't like it.........Right, because it's so frustrating not to be able to trust someone....Hahahahaha...........No, I'm not going to bring it up again because I'm totally over it.....Right............Sure.....I just hope it doesn't keep happening...uh huh........................That's what I told Sarah...No, but I am over it.

(At this point I was thinking two things: 1. Mr. Identity Theft is certainly not 'over it' 2. I wish he would get off the phone, or go somewhere else.)

Mr. Identity Theft, continuing his conversation on his cell phone: ...And that's why I say I'm over it, but it is frustrating................No.....Right, so anyway, I wanted to buy some............oh, today's the last day?...Well, could I give you the information and have you write up the order?...Great........ok, here it is...Steven J. Identity Theft, Jr.............It's an American Express...The number's 3918 2874 4788 9092...............do you need anything else?.....Expiration date's 3/2015.....security code on the back 123.......Thanks.

If only the technology from Mission Impossible truly existed, I could have made a voice print of him and an accurate silicone mask and actually become Steven J. Identity Theft, Jr.

I tried humming the "Be careful little mouth what you say" verse from Sunday school instead, but I have a feeling that Mr. Identity Theft probably doesn't stand a chance.

Meet Luke

2011-06-06T19:40:00.002-05:00

Yesterday, in a very manner very uncharacteristic to me, I took some money that I had earned and spent it immediately.

I bought a Nook eReader.

Jeffrey insists that the Nook be pronounced with a long "o" sound, because "it has two 'o's' like "spook."

I pointed out that 'book,' 'rook,' and 'took' are all pronounced without the long 'o' sound, making them all rhyme with 'look' instead of 'puke.'

Regardless of my excellent logic, when we say 'Nook' it rhymes with 'puke,' so we named my Nook Luke.

I love Luke! He has free books from Barnes and Noble and Sudoku. The free books are mostly classic novels. I think no one besides me reads the classics much anymore, so they're literally giving them away for free online. (The Twilight Series, on the other hand, continues to be sold for $20 a copy. Oh, the humanity.)

Thanks a Pot

2011-05-30T21:03:00.004-05:00

Last week I extracted teeth at the county clinic downtown, and I found an unexpected laugh when I visited one of the patient bathrooms.

I was so caught off guard by the hilarity of this bathroom graffiti on the wall of my stall that I forgot to take a picture, but I promise this is the verbatim representation of the scrawl on the wall:

Dear Carelink-

Thank you so much for your services. Without your help, many of us would not be able to see doctors.

(Just for clarification, Carelink is the free health insurance for people with low income.)

Beneath this note was a response:

Dear Carelink people-

You should thank the taxpayers, we're the ones who pay for your insurance.

O.M.G.--smackdown in stall #2!

This bathroom graffiti is ridiculous for two reasons: #1--The person who wrote the thank you note was being extremely thoughtful in expressing her gratitude, but why say it in the bathroom where no Carelink executive would ever read it? Why not say it in the form of a note or a thank you in person at the Carelink office, which is literally 10 feet away from the Carelink office at the hospital. #2--The same indignant taxpayer who dissed the first remark marred public property with her retort. Wanna know who pays for maintenance (like painting bathroom stalls) of state property?

Taxpayers.

Just for kicks, here are a few pictures of other ridiculous bathroom graffiti quotes...

Down with the Sickness

2011-05-23T12:45:00.005-05:00

Usually when I wake up before my alarm goes off it's because Dixie is yawning loudly in an attempt to wake me up early for playtime. This morning I woke up before my alarm by cramping in my intestines. Uh oh.

15 trips to the bathroom later, I emailed my teacher to let him know I wouldn't be at school today.

15 trips to the bathroom later, I felt a little better and decided to get ready for school and go up there.

1 very bad trip to the bathroom later, I solidly decided not to go to school today.

I think it must have been something I ate yesterday because I didn't have a fever or anything else, but I certainly looked green in the face for most of the day. Wanna take bets on what food is the culprit?

Breakfast: coffee
Lunch: Chicago hot dog from Sonic
Dinner: Homemade veggie burritos and homemade salsa
Bedtime snack: Miniature Heath bars (I'm not telling you how many...embarrassing!)

Yeah, our vote is on the Chicago dog. Which is very sad because I LOVE hot dogs and I love the poppy seed bun. But seriously, I'm never eating it again.

Now there are four items on my "can't ever eat it again" list...and TWO of them are from Sonic! So sad.

Item #1--Sixlets

These are gross anyway, and I don't know who thought it would be a good idea to let me (age 8, on a winding road in Colorado, with a major history of carsickness) eat them at a rest stop. There's just something about the image of rainbow colored barf that stays with you.

Item #2--Funnel Cake

Not quite as sweet when it comes back up. Enough said.

Item #3--Cherry limeade

For some reason in college I decided to only have a Route 44 sized cherry limeade for dinner one night. The next morning I was supposed to go on a road trip, but I felt really sick. My roommate, Jana, asked if I wanted to be driven over to my parents house for the duration of the tummy aching. I thought I could make it over there. As it turns out, I could not. As she pulled into my parent's cul-de-sac, I rolled her car window down and barfed (while the car was still heading into the driveway). Considerate of me, I think, to spare her car's interior.

Item #4--Chicago dog

Bye-bye, poppy seed bun. After today, we are friends no more.

As We Know It

2011-05-21T21:12:00.004-05:00

So the world is supposed to end today, according to some crazies on the Internet. It's 9:15 pm right now, so there's only 2 hours and 45 minutes left for the world to burn, assuming that our Apocalypse is tuned to central standard time.

(It's worth noting that May 21st has already come and gone in Japan, and last I heard, those guys are still alive and kicking. I don't really mean the "and kicking" part to be a stereotypical reference to Asians and martial arts, but if the idiom fits, wear it, you know?)

Nevertheless, people are still proclaiming that the world will end today.

Clearly my girl Britney Spears has been poring over the book of Revelation because her appropriately titled (Keep on Dancin' til the World Ends) hit is a red letter warning in the form of a sick hip hop beat.
There's a more obvious warning sign in the form of, well, a sign in San Antonio. This billboard begs you to "save the date."

I'm thinking of hiring one of our local graffiti artists to spray "Gotcha!" all over that billboard after midnight tonight.

If the world is ending today, you should hurry up and check out my brother's blog.
http://redpowernaps.blogspot.com/
It's pretty funny. Maybe funnier than mine. But there are fewer pictures of cakes and baby clothes. There's always a trade off.

And if the world doesn't end tonight, well, check out his website at your leisure.

Somebody's goin' to emergency...

2011-05-18T16:38:00.003-05:00

Summer has officially started. What does that mean? It means I'm already back at school.

WHAT?!?!

Our school curriculum requires, among other things, that we choose a 2 week selective to complete during our summer break. I'm a little offended at the name "selective," mostly because I don't think selective is a real word. I do appreciate that they didn't call it an "elective" because no one would "elect" to do extra work in the summer, but then again, making up a nicer word doesn't make the pain go away. Just like calling pain "discomfort" at the dental office doesn't make it hurt less.

Anyway, I "selected/elected" to do a rotation in oral surgery. I used to like oral surgery, or at least I used to before the last three days.

Day 1--My patient had a 5 alarm, flopping around in the chair like a fish, oxygen tank requiring, panic attack. What horrible thing did I do to him to make him have this amount of anxiety? Put on topical anesthetic. For those of you who haven't been tortured through 3 years of dental school, let me explain what that is...topical anesthetic is that numbing gel that the dentist puts on with a Q-tip before giving an injection. Essentially, my patient is so afraid of dentists that Q-tips put raise his blood pressure so high that he requires medical assistance.

Day 2--My patient whined through her entire extraction of a tooth that was so loose she could have taken it out herself with a strong sneeze. Then she asked for a trash can and as I held it over toward her, she threw up in it. Vomit was approximately 1 inch from my fingers.

Day 3--94 year old wheels into my operatory in a wheelchair carrying a bad of at least 4000 medications. Considering my record of medical emergencies this week, I almost started hyperventilating when I saw how many complications awaited this patient. Luckily, I was bailed out because the man takes blood thinners and we couldn't work on him until he takes a few days off from his blood thinning meds. Phew!

To Do and To Done

2011-04-27T11:49:00.006-05:00

I have a to do list about 1 mile long, but it doesn't matter. Want to know why? Because it's the last to do list of the semester! The lecture portion of school is winding down fast--only 2 tests left. All my requirements for clinic are completed (Thank you, God for getting me through), and there are only a few more appointments this week and the next two.

I'm not sure I can describe the wonderful relief that comes with finishing all the clinical requirements this year. The image I had in my mind for the entire Spring semester was of mountain climbing in Colorado as a teenager. I felt the same weariness in each step toward the goal, the familiar burn in my muscles as I went through each motion, the same awareness that keeping my mind strong was infinitely more important than the physical symptoms my body would show. Strangely, finishing all my requirements didn't feel like coming down off the mountain. It felt like something more comforting and warm--like melting into the hot springs after not having showered in a week on the mountain.

Can you tell I'm a little excited?

Anyway, as school's to do list has turned into a to done list, a few other little projects have been completed, too.

Those cupcakes for the bridal shower? Here they are...

And remember that chair I bought at the garage sale?

Chair before (and Dixie)...

Chair after (not perfect, but oh so much better)...

Also on the to done list? A fun, girly, summer wreath and a painting. Pictures to come.

Crashed

2011-04-18T08:38:00.002-05:00

My computer crashed a week ago today, and it's been being worked on in our computer services department since then. Twice they've called to tell me it's fixed and ready to be picked up, and twice I've picked it up, tried to boot up, and been greeted by error messages on a blue screen. Twice I've returned the computer to the help desk and simply said, "Not fixed."

Luckily, they have loaner computers for us to use in the interim, but I've had my hands tied since I can't access my photo files or lectures for class.

The computer help people always harp on us about backing up our data on an external hard drive for such a time as this. I backed up my data....in July of 2010. Yikes.

Anyway, until further notice, I'll probably be blog-less for a while until I get my limping, malfunctioning computer back.

Miss you, blog!

Save the Last Dance for Me

2011-04-06T10:22:00.002-05:00

Yesterday I saw one of my favorite (and most colorful) patients. HIPPA laws prevent me from telling you any identifying personal information about him, so let's just say his age rhymes with schmeighty four. In his first appointment with me he told me many things about his teeth, but also suddenly said, "I'll bet you have stinky feet."

I was a little taken aback, but he quickly added, "I was born with stinky feet and a snotty nose, and I've never been able to get rid of either one. I bet you haven't either."

I knew at that point that this guy was going to add a little character to each appointment.

A few appointments later he reached into his pocket and handed me a nail and a screw, with no explanation for either piece of hardware or why he wanted me to have them. (I might have already blogged about that, but I can't remember, and I'm too lazy to look back and find out. The Alzheimer's is really setting in quickly these days.)

I had my last appointment with him yesterday and apparently he came prepared to shock me once again. I thought we'd made it through the entire appointment unscathed, but as we were walking out, he suddenly turned and said, "Take me back to your cubicle, I have something to show you."

Terrified, I complied.

Back in the cubicle, he dropped one more bombshell, "Did you know I used to be a ballroom dancing instructor?"

Yep, you guessed it, I got a dance lesson in my cubicle at dental school. I learned the ChaCha and the Rumba. The instruction included a critique on the way I shake my hips during the moves. Blushing like a fool, I finally managed to finagle my way out of my dance instructors hand hold and usher him out the door.

Strangest moment in dental school? Check. Dancing the ChaCha with a schmeighty four year old.

Let Them Eat Cake

2011-04-05T08:56:00.004-05:00

I made the cake for the baby shower. Drum roll, please...

Ta Da!

Thankfully this cake turned out much better than the Plumber's Crack Cake. The shower was thrown by two of my friends who did a lovely job of decorating and planning the shower. They had dainty little brunch foods and pretty, girly decorations. They even had a chalkboard where each guest could write a message to Madelynn (the baby) and take a picture next to the board to put into a memory book for the baby girl.

I was so impressed by all the people who made their gifts for the shower, too. I thought I might be the only one who had created my own gift, but almost half the guests made their gifts in some form or another. One girl brought cute personalized headbands, another used her monogrammer to personalize burp rags and blankets. I brought these two dresses that I made (the pink one and the green one--the purple went to a friend in Abilene).
I love the pink one--I almost couldn't give it up! Luckily, I love Jenny (the mommy), so it was a little easier to give since I knew it was for a good cause, haha.

After the shower I noticed a cool chair across the street at a garage sale. The antique wingback chair was in great condition structurally, but was covered in hideous peach colored velveteen fabric. They had marked the price down from $25 to $20--so I was sold. I bought it and bought some fabric to recover it. Hopefully that little project will be done this week...pictures to follow!

The Cakes Go Marching One by One, Hurrah

2011-03-29T08:15:00.004-05:00

My post from Sunday sort of mentioned this already, but I cannot let the month of March go by without mentioning all the birthdays that happened.

This year was a big year with several of us hitting milestone birthdays. My Grampy turned 80 on March 3rd. On the same day, my Uncle Gary turned 50. Jeffrey and I both turned 25 this month, he on March 13th and I on March 6th. My brother turned 22 on March 8th, which was also Jeffrey's and my anniversary.

There were several people in the family who turned 39 (again) this year, including my Aunt Lisa (March 17th) and my grandpa's "special friend" (we're not allowed to call her his girlfriend) on March 6th.

Have you lost count yet? Don't worry, so has the rest of the family. This is the real March Madness. With all these March birthdays, it's better if we all just get together on one day and celebrate with a round of:

Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday dear grampygarylaurengregoryjeffreyhelenchrislisaandanyoneelse
Happy birthday to you.

This year everyone even got his or her own cake. Of course, mine was the Plumber's crack cake, so it wasn't much to look at, but it sure was easy to cut.

By the way, if you notice my sister and my dad (unfortunately born in November and December) sulking in the corner in some of these pictures, it's because they say, "March feels just like a bad version of Christmas because everybody gets presents...except for us."

It's a piece of cake

2011-03-27T21:52:00.008-05:00

I just read a hilarious email from a college friend who caught us up on her work and personal life happenings and then ordered Jeffrey to tweet more, and reminded me that I hadn't posted about my cake class.

Casey, this one's for you.

Let's revisit the "before" cake...

Cute, colorful, simple. Nothing very impressive, though. Hopefully you'll see the improvement as we go along.

In cake class one we decorated cookies. Some of our creations:

Cake class two we did a one layer cake with some little flowers.

Cake class three was more flowers on cupcakes.

Cake class four was icing roses. The holy grail of cake decorating. Before I show you my cake, I'll have to do a little explaining. Each time we went to class, we had to drive our plain cookies/cupcakes/cakes over to Michael's, braving rush hour's texting teens and aggressive soccer moms' vans. This wasn't too much trouble when it was just cookies and cupcakes, but for the last class, we had to bring a two layer cake.

In an attempt to save a little time, I hadn't leveled my cake. I thought I'd be able to correct any height discrepancies with icing. Had I been thinking scientifically (Why didn't I pay attention in Physics class?!?), I would have realized that not leveling the cake put lots of stress on the center of the cake, and the pressure in the center coupled with the vibration of the car ride over equals...

It's Not My San Andreas Fault Cake

If you look carefully at the pictures, there are dark spots under the flowers where the cake cracked. The split was at first concealable with gaudy globs of icing, but after a trip to Abilene for a March birthday extravaganza, it became...

The Plumber's Crack Cake (with roses!)

I made lots of jokes about the cake being "pre-cut" and "perforated, for easy serving," but honestly I was a little disappointed in my final cake. It was supposed to be my magnum opus, and instead it was more of a magnum oops-us. Luckily, I have a chance to redeem myself this weekend because I'm making a cake for a baby shower. Hopefully it will be a piece of cake!

Life Isn't Fair

2011-03-25T18:31:00.006-05:00

Life isn't fair. There are injustices every day. But if you ever feel that life has just gone too far, the injustices too great, there is nothing fair left in the world...

go to the fair!!!

The fair is the solution for unfairness. There is no way that you can feel bad about the grade you got on a test when you see a carnival worker. (You'll end up feeling much worse about the fact that he's 24 years old and only has 4 teeth left.)

You can't be upset about the divisions in politics and the bureaucracy that weighs down change when you're staring down a funnel cake's divisions of greasy, fried goodness weighed down by pounds of powdered sugar.

And you can't feel tossed by the waves of fate while watching a cowboy be tossed around by a 2000 pound bull.

The fair is a lovely place. I'm so glad we got to go, eat funnel cake, hang out with friends, and enjoy the ride!

Wet Paint

2011-03-22T08:47:00.003-05:00

And the award for worst blogger in March goes to....Lauren Edwards!!!

Sorry for the two week break. I know all of you are DYING to know what's going on in my life. Ha.

Well, this won't be a great post to catch you up on what's been going on, but it will make you scratch your head. Here goes...

Today while riding the elevator up to the fourth floor, I noticed this sign:

Let's think about this for a moment. If the sign says, "Wet paint, elevator doors fourth floor," doesn't that mean that the elevator doors on every floor are wet?

Because it's the same elevator that goes to all the floors. And the doors go with it.

Oh my.

Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend

2011-03-07T08:10:00.006-06:00

My brother popped the question on Saturday...

And she said, "YES!"

We couldn't be happier for the newly betrothed couple. It was fun to get to be part of the immediate celebration. Wedding pictures coming this Fall/Winter!

Insert Clever Title For Blog Post Here

2011-03-03T18:03:00.003-06:00

Two updates:

1.) Regarding Lauren's post entitled, "Snow Way," it actually did snow in San Antonio on 04-Feb-2011 - so much so that every single highway in San Antonio shut down for 12+ hours! Who knew things could get that crazy down here!? Lauren was (rightfully) given the day off by her authorities, and she spent the morning and afternoon relaxing, watching "Saved By the Bell," and playing outside with Dixie. I, however, "volunteered" (read: was coerced) to trudge the 2.5 icy and perilous miles from our house to the hospital because no one - and I almost mean that literally - was able to get to the hospital. The other 3rd-year medical student and I were forced into action as temporary mini-residents for the day, which was actually very fun. And scary. And tiring. I now have even more respect for the residents than I already did, and I am anticipating/dreading the moment when in 1.5 years I am given all of that responsibility on a daily basis. But long story short...it actually did snow and the city shut down. The End.

2.) It is 03-Mar-2011 and I have yet to consume a french fry in the current calendar year. That is all.

Until next time...

Good night, and good luck

--Jeffrey D. Edwards

I'd rather go to the dentist

2011-03-01T08:19:00.005-06:00

Lots of people say that they'd rather go anywhere than to the dentist. My friend Lacie found one who'd rather go to the dentist than where he has to go.

Her patient (we'll call him Mr. X) was a good patient who came in regularly and was almost finished with his treatment. The last thing he needed was a crown. Lacie explained to him that it would take her one appointment to prepare his tooth for the crown and get an impression, then she would put a temporary crown on him until the lab made the real one. He would come back for a second appointment to get the real crown put on.

Unfortunately, the next time he came to school (to have the real crown put on) he had a full set of braces on. He proudly said to Lacie, "Look what I got!"

She said, "I can't put your crown on until I talk to your orthodontist!"

So that day he left without any treatment. Lacie talked to his orthodontist and got the all-clear to put the crown on, so she scheduled an appointment with Mr. X for a few days later. Lacie got a call the next day.

Mr. X: Lacie, um...I had something come up. Is there any way I can get that crown put on tomorrow?

Lacie: Well, I already have another patient scheduled for tomorrow. Is it an emergency?

Mr. X: Yeah, sort of. There's a warrant out for my arrest, so I pretty much need to hurry and turn myself in before they come get me.

Lacie: [Thinking to herself--So glad I gave this ex-convict my cell phone number. I wonder what he's in for...] Well, I guess I can shuffle some things around and get you in tomorrow.

Mr. X: Thanks! 'Cause I'm probably going to be in there for 3 years or so, so I want to get everything taken care of before I go in.

Lacie: [Seriously, what did he do???] Ok, great. See you tomorrow.

Lacie told me the next day that her biggest dilemma was what to say as her patient left that appointment.

See you later...um...or, until next time...oh...uh...good luck...uh...

(I suggested, "Don't drop the soap," but she didn't think that was good either.)

Hope you have the (hard) time of your life, Mr. X!

Ruffles and Flowers

2011-03-01T08:09:00.004-06:00

Almost every woman in my young marrieds class at church is pregnant, most of them with baby girls. Several of my friends from my home church in Abilene are pregnant, too, lots of them with little girls. I want a little girl!!!

But of course, the whole dental school thing would probably get in the way of getting pregnant and having a baby right now. (Can you imagine how hard it would be to reach my patients' mouths with a 9 month pregnant belly? I would find myself saying, "Sir, could you please rest your head on my stomach so I can reach you?" Probably would get a few points taken off on my professionalism grade for that.)

So, those who can't do, sew!

I found a picture online of a little onesie turned sundress and decided I had to make some. Here are the results...

Some of them are so cute I can't look at them directly for fear of bursting into tiny tears of cuteness overload. Now imagine them with a little chubby baby inside.

Awww!!

My mom delivered one of the dresses and one of the burpees to a friend at a shower last weekend. She called to tell me that everyone loved them, and that the grandmother of the girl recommended that I quit dental school and become a baby clothes designer. All this pink is making me think about it!

Abandoned

2011-02-21T22:14:00.003-06:00

There is nothing sadder than an abandoned blog. (Except, perhaps, this picture of an abandoned house, which was one of the google image search results for "abandon.")

I will not abandon this blog. I imagine it living a long and happy life with me. Even to that ripe old age when the only things I will have to blog about are the current maladies that have befallen my creaky joints.

This blog has not been abandoned. Sometimes I don't write for a while because I don't have any stories to tell. Sometimes I don't write for a while because all my stories are boring or not funny. For example, if I wrote a blog about today, it would say this:

Hi, blog readers. Today I did a filling in the morning, ate a wholesome lunch of graham cracker goldfish, pudding, and applesauce, and then I did another filling in the afternoon.

Now, aren't you glad I didn't really write a post today?

But seriously, folks, I have so many good stories to tell. Have I told you the one about the rodeo? Or the arrested dental patient? Or cake decorating class parts I and II?

No. Not yet. But I will. Just have to finish studying for my test tomorrow, then we'll move on to more important things. Like blogs. And fillings.

4th grade or 3rd year?

2011-02-09T21:26:00.003-06:00

Last night Jeffrey and I yelled at each other quite a bit. Not because we were mad, just because that's how married people who live in a two-story house talk.

Anyway, last night Jeffrey yelled to me, "LAUREN, WHERE IS THE COMPUTER CORD THAT TRANSFERS PICTURES FROM THE CAMERA TO THE COMPUTER?"

I yelled back, "IN THE FRONT POCKET OF MY BACKPACK."

He then replied, "WHY ARE YOU A FOURTH GRADER?"

I said, "WHAT?"

At this point we both walked to the stairs because the yelling was getting ridiculous.

Jeffrey: "The only things in the front pocket of your backpack are sunglasses, markers, and Hershey's kiss wrappers. Why are you a fourth grader?"

Lauren: "Wrong pocket. Look in the front pocket, not the tiny mesh pocket. And regarding the fourth grader comment--I am rubber you are glue, whatever you call me bounces off and sticks to you."

Since we had our little yelling match turned stairway rendezvous, I can't stop thinking of the many similarities between me and the fourth grade version of myself. Examples:
My lunch often consists of applesauce, animal crackers, and string cheese.

I still say "cutter cutter peanut butter" when someone jumps ahead in line.

I like markers more than pens.

I write in cursive all the time. (Technically, this one's not my fault. My fourth grade teacher repeatedly told us "in fifth grade your teachers will ONLY let you write in cursive." Being the sweet little submissive girl that I was/am, I acquiesced, only to find out that all the teachers in fifth grade preferred printing. Too late, I was hooked on cursive--but never on phonics.)

The laces on my tennis shoes constantly come untied.

I eat lucky charms and smores pop tarts for breakfast. (Not at the same time. Can you say diabetes?)

Favorite movies I've seen recently? Despicable Me and How to Train your Dragon. Both cartoons.

So maybe I'm not quite as grown up as I appear to be. Apparently 20 years of formal education doesn't quite train the kid out of you. Or teach you that string cheese and smores pop tarts don't have a place in a healthy food pyramid.

Snow Way

2011-02-03T08:13:00.003-06:00

The school is in panic today because of the chance of snow in San Antonio this afternoon. (What? Snow in San Antonio? Snow way!)

The dental school is proudly open for business, as it usually is, regardless of rain or snow. (This decision was probably influenced by the fact that last Friday we had to close because a water main on campus broke overnight. Overcompensation, perhaps?) Every other school district in the area is closed, not because the weather is bad right now, but because the thought of afternoon snow trapping thousands of booger-nosed first graders at school indefinitely is terrifying to teachers and administrators alike.

It's really no matter to us if the school is open or closed, though, because none of our patients can be counted on to show when the weather is remotely bad. Here's a little dental school math for you--

0% chance of rain, sleet, or snow = 80% chance your patient will show up
10% chance of rain = 50% chance your patient will cancel last minute
50% chance of rain = 90% chance your patient will no show, but expect you to re-schedule them within 24 hrs
30% chance of snow = 99% chance all dental students will be attempting to do fillings on each other in an effort to generate some points for the day, and 0% chance of real patients showing up at all

Tomorrow we are scheduled to have a sealant day where the dental school will provide free sealants to area children through their schools. There is a 50% chance of snow tomorrow. That means there is a 15% chance that I will be snowed in at the dental school tomorrow with a crying, sealant-ed first grader in my dental chair.

Snow way out of it.

Have your cake and decorate it too

2011-02-01T21:29:00.004-06:00

Some of my friends at school convinced me to sign up for a cake decorating class at Michael's. Not one to be swindled, I decided that I must get my full money's worth from this class. (That's $22.50, folks.)

So I baked and decorated a "before" cake. Viola!

This is a cake I sent to Jeffrey's work with him. (We're planning on getting him into a nice residency program using his intelligence, excellent bedside manner, and a little help from Betty Crocker.)

I thought the cake turned out pretty well, so I got greedy. I decided to try my hand at making an icing flower.

[Insert sad sounding trombone slide here]

Yeah, so the flower looks more like a big yellow blob. Don't worry, though, that's what the class is for.

But do let me know if anyone is in the market for a delicious cake decorated with delicate, beautiful blobs.

Handmade Part 3

2011-01-26T20:14:00.004-06:00

Today I made Dixie a new dog tag.
See how much fun dental drills can be???

Dixie made herself a Snuggie.
Now she can finally change the channel on the TV while keeping her arms warm and cozy.

Remember the book "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie"?

Well, the first two pictures are examples of what happens "If You Give a Dental Student the Morning Off."

Anyway, I did actually end up doing a little dental work today. This afternoon I finished my second (and last) set of dentures for the year. I had a little extra time before the clinic time ended, so I was walking up and down the halls looking for something to do. Suddenly I found something very important to do when one of my classmate's patients began to have a severe allergic reaction.

Her reaction was so bad that she started to have trouble breathing. I got the job of monitoring her while everyone else bustled around getting oxygen tanks, calling her emergency contact, and guiding the paramedics to her. The poor thing was so sweet but very scared.

The student and faculty took good care of her, but it was still a little crazy this afternoon. We still don't know what caused her allergic reaction, but we hope she feels better soon. (And she's not invited back until we figure out what she's allergic to!!)

Breaking My Silence, But Not My Promise

2011-01-25T19:45:00.003-06:00

This is my first post since 25 July 2009. And I am only writing because I have a very important update for you all...

It is the 25th of January, and as of today I have still not eaten French Fries in the year 2011. I know that many of you out there were concerned and probably losing sleep while worrying about me and my New Year's resolution. But do not fear - I'm going strong (for now).

In reality, I probably won't last a year without eating any fries, but I would like to last at least a month. Check back soon for another update.

Until next time...

Good night, and good luck.

--Jeffrey D. Edwards

Flower Power

2011-01-25T08:18:00.003-06:00

Sticking with the "things I've handmade" theme, I thought I'd put some pictures up of a wreath I made last weekend. I wanted to make a smaller wreath than I normally have on the door and I wanted it to look a little wintry. (Just because it's not cold in San Antonio in January doesn't mean we can't decorate as if it is...that's what I say.)

Unfortunately it didn't really turn out like I had pictured it. Instead of looking delicate it looked a little sparse. Instead of looking chic it turned out a little grandmas-ish (no offense to any grandmas out there--I'm not talking about you, I'm talking about the frumpy kind of grandma). I don't know--it's ok, I guess. I decided it was good enough to put on the door, out for the world to see.

The funny side of this story is how difficult it was for me to get the materials to make it.

My husband and my family are all well-aware of a glaring shortcoming that I have. I never remember which stores are closed on Sundays. For a length of time about 3 months long, I asked Jeffrey weekly (always on a Sunday) if we could eat at Chick-fil-a. (In case you are as confused as me, let me tell you that Chick-fil-a is closed on Sundays.) It got so bad that Jeffrey started suggesting it on Sundays just to mess with my mind.

Anyway, two Sundays ago, after an embarrassing amount of pleading with Jeffrey to go with me to Hobby Lobby, we drove all the way there. As we turned into the empty parking lot, I remembered that Hobby Lobby, much like Chick-fil-a, closes every Sunday.

Ashamed, we turned to go back home and I returned by myself the next day. I forgot one little thing at that shopping trip, though, so I had to go back again a few days later.

On a Sunday.

It's still not open on Sundays, in case you were wondering. Why is it that I can remember the average length of front teeth in millimeters but not the simple fact that you can't buy fabric markers on Sunday?

Made with Love

2011-01-24T21:02:00.005-06:00

There will soon be a new little face joining the Linn/Estes/Oglesby/Bailey etc family. My 3rd cousin Ben and his wife Lyric are pregnant with their first child, a boy they're naming Jack. (Ben's brothers have been joking that the baby's middle name will be Daniels, after their favorite liquor, but I doubt that Lyric will let that happen.)

As an aside, I'm not really sure how the baby and I will be related. Is he my 4th cousin? My great nephew once removed? No idea, really. I think we're just going to stick with the family tradition of just calling everyone that's not your brother, sister, mom, or dad "cousin." It's simpler.

Anyway, my mom told me on Tuesday that the baby shower would be on the following Sunday. I like making baby burpees for my friends, so of course I had to make one for my little cousin-to-be. I wish I had had more time to make them more cutesy, but I had to do what I could with the time I had--and that was a half day off from school and an hour and a half wait at the Toyota dealership's service area waiting while my car's oil was changed.

Here's what I mailed to Abilene for the little baby bundle...

I told my mom--I really like them, and I hope Lyric does, too, but if she doesn't, well...they're for the baby to spit up on, so I'm sure they'll be worn out soon! Haha.

Presenting Christmas Presents

2011-01-20T10:48:00.016-06:00

As promised, here is the long-awaited post about my favorite Christmas presents.

The first and best present is always time spent with family and friends. A close second is time away from that stressful place I call dental school. Ha.

Like Madonna, I'm a bit of a material girl, so here are my favorite tangible presents...

Canon Rebel Camera

Ironically, the camera itself is the only thing I can't take a picture of, so a stock photo will have to work. This camera takes beautiful, colorful, true images. After reading the instruction manual and watching part of the instructional DVD I'm fairly certain that it is also more intelligent than me. Then again, so are a lot of people.

Massage chair

My husband gives incredible back rubs. The talent is both a blessing and a curse--a blessing for me because I get to be the recipient, a curse for Jeffrey because he doesn't usually feel like giving me a 30 minute massage every single night. Enter massage chair. This chair does Shiatsu and Rolling massages, can be made to concentrate on a specific area of soreness, has heat, and improves my mood after a long day at school by 435%. I now receive 30 to 45 minutes of massage per day. But you don't have to be jealous--come over and try it out for yourself!

Movies

Jeffrey and I received/bought with gift cards about 20 movies this Christmas. He would probably hurt me if I had took out all of these DVDs from their designated places to take a picture. I honestly can't tell you if Jeffrey gets more pleasure out of owning and watching DVDs or just arranging them anal-retentively on the shelf.

Those were the biggies...but there were lots of other great gifts given. Other things that happened over Christmas...

My mom got a leopard print suitcase, and then decided to act like a leopard.
We tried to take a good family picture.

Then we tried again.

Then we tried again.

Then we got it.

Dixie became my photo subject.

Dixie got a dragon with 16 separate squeakers. Then she ate them.

My grandma got her lips plumped?

And fun was had by all!

Talking After Midnight

2011-01-07T20:00:00.003-06:00

This afternoon when I got home from school, Jeffrey and I spent some time sitting in our backyard talking about our days together while watching Dixie sprint frantically up and down the fence line each time she heard a neighborhood dog bark.

Suddenly, Jeffrey started laughing and asked, "Do you remember what you said last night when I came to bed?"

I didn't, because I had gone upstairs early last night to watch a little TV and promptly fell asleep with the lights still on. Apparently by the time Jeffrey got into bed, I was solidly in a deep sleep. I don't remember him getting into the bed, and I don't remember any of the following conversation that Jeffrey promises happened exactly as written below:

Lauren (talking to the dog, as Jeffrey starts to get into bed): Come on, Dixie, better make room for "once" (pronounced "own-say," the Spanish word for eleven)
Jeffrey: What?
Lauren: Yeah, I'm one and Dixie's one. That's once.
Jeffrey: WHAT?!?!?
Lauren: [no response. still sleeping.]

Even my subconscious is bad at math.

Fry Baby

2011-01-04T09:41:00.002-06:00

Christmas was amazing. Celebrating the new year was great. Time with family and friends was enjoyed by all. And the presents...well, the presents were simply fantastic. But all of that deserves it's own post. This post is about the important things in life: fries and dental school.

There is always a great internal struggle over New Year's Resolutions for me. The trouble stems from the fact that I am a people pleaser and that trait extends even to myself. So while the turning pages of the calendar to a brand new year inspire me to resolutions of grandeur, the more rational side of me begs for more easily-kept resolutions so that I won't disappoint myself if I fail.

This year the internal tug of war ended in a draw. One big resolution (complain less about school) and one smaller resolution (read my bible more).

Jan 4th update: Big resolution going down! Mayday! MAYDAY...!

Yesterday I started back to school with a new patient exam on a very sweet lady who ONLY speaks Spanish. It was like playing charades...except not fun. I used a combination of the Spanish I learned in high school (which was in disarray from 7 years of non-use) and wild gestures to get my point across. Thank goodness a Spanish-speaker came by right when I needed to ask the patient if she had any urinary problems. It would have gotten pretty awkward at that point for me to act out the question.

At the end of the appointment, the patient said (in halting English), "Thank you for see me today."

I looked at her and asked (in halting Spanish), "Is my Spanish better or worse than your English?"

She laughed and then said (in perfect Spanish), "Your Spanish is a little better than my English."

So, four days into the new year, I'm one resolution down, but who's counting?

Jeffrey told me matter-of-factly on January first: "You can't make small resolutions, or you won't keep them. That's why I'm making a big one this year."

I immediately felt a sense of dread as I tried to guess what his resolution would be. My first terrible thought was that he would want to work out every day. This would inevitably lead to my own personal misery as he would wake me getting up each morning for sunrise workouts and just generally make me feel badly for counting my trips upstairs each night to bed and walks with the dog as cardio workouts.

He surprised me, though, when he said, "My resolution is not to eat french fries for a year."

While I admire his courage for giving up America's favorite side, I will not be joining him on this journey. My answer to that joyous question, "Would you like fries with that?" has been, is still, and will always be a resounding, "YES."
Welcome, 2011, many new things await us this year, but some will never change.

Another post about the dog

2010-12-15T11:50:00.011-06:00

Here's the bottom line, folks: there's nothing to blog about except my dog. So here goes...

This is a tennis ball.

This is Dixie.

See Dixie destroy the tennis ball.

See Dixie sleep because she's tired and her stomach hurts from eating a tennis ball.

Here is Dixie in the back yard. Shhh! She's hunting wabbits (and also probably looking for a place to poop).

Aww. We love Dixie.

And Dixie loves tennis balls. To death.

W, X, Why, and Z

2010-11-30T22:06:00.003-06:00

This is Clayton. Sometimes he gets tired at school and has to take a nap in the dental chair, but those pesky overhead fluorescent lights are always getting in his eyes. Solution? Dental bib + safety glasses. Problem solving--that's why they pay us the big bucks.

I have a funny story to tell about Clayton...I hope he doesn't mind!

Clayton's denture patient speaks Spanish and English, but understands Spanish better. Clayton has been studying his Spanish so that he can talk to his patient in a more comfortable way, which is very considerate. The patient is also hard of hearing, so Clayton has to speak very loudly.

One day a few weeks ago, we heard Clayton loudly telling his patient, "Igreiega! A la igriega!" Later he said to us, "My patient had such a hard time getting back out to the waiting room--I kept telling him "igriega" but he wouldn't turn left."

I said, "Clayton, 'igriega' doesn't mean left; izquierda means left."

We decided that since Clayton had said "igriega" about 40 times to his patient, we should find out what it means. We brought in our bilingual faculty member, Dr. Vargas. Then we really got lost in translation.

Me: Dr. Vargas, que significa 'igriega'? (What does igriega mean?)
Dr. Vargas: Why?
Me: Because Clayton kept telling his patient to go left, but instead of saying 'izquierda' he was saying 'igriega,' so what does that mean?
Dr. Vargas: Why?
Me: (Thought I just told her why...) We just want to know what Clayton was saying to his patient instead of left. What does it mean?
Dr. Vargas: It means 'Y'--the letter Y.
Me: Oh...now I'm with you.

Dog Whisperer

2010-11-21T21:18:00.004-06:00

You know those annoying people who have bumper stickers like this: Well, I'm about to become one of them. I need one of those bumper stickers that says, "My rescue mutt is smarter than your honor student." Or maybe I'm just really good at dog training. I might be the next dog whisperer. The proof is in the pudding. Look how well I taught my Dixie dog to play dead after I shoot her (apologies for the awful camera phone quality of the video)...

**No animals were harmed in the making of this film.
You think it's a sign of poor training that it took four "bangs" to get Dixie to play dead? Consider this: I told Dixie that I've had no training in marksmanship, and my gun shoots tranquilizing darts instead of bullets. How smart is she to realize that I missed the first two times and factor in the time it takes for sedatives to take effect.

I am the dog whisperer. I train dogs faster than a speeding bullet...or tranquilizer dart.

Knick Knack, Paddy Whack...

2010-11-14T17:26:00.002-06:00

When we take our Dixie dog over to my friend Clayton's house to play with his dog, Radar, Dixie always tries to take Radar's bones. We finally decided that we should just buy Dixie some bones of her own to have at the house. Clayton told us that he gets real bones for Radar at a feed store nearby. We happened to be at Walmart this weekend, though, and we found that they sell real pig femurs on the pet supply aisles. (As if we needed anymore proof that Walmart literally sells everything...)

We bought Dixie the 1 pound bone and brought it home. She immediately pranced over to her little blanket and started to gnaw on it. We were decorating the house for Christmas, so we didn't realize until a few hours later that she had already eaten about half of the bone.

Two hours after that, she threw up. Once. Twice. Thrice.

Here's a new nursery rhyme: Knick knack, paddy whack, give the dog a bone. Watch her barf all over your home.

Luckily she's learned her lesson. The remaining bone has been chewed with fervor in 5 minute increments.

Guest What?

2010-11-03T10:09:00.005-05:00

I love having company...but does company love having me?

Hopefully now they will. Check out the new amenities at Hotel de Edwards:
Just an ordinary dresser...

...or is it?
What's this? A special guest drawer?

No, two of them!
What's inside?

Snacks and toiletries?!?! Aww...staying at the Edwards' is so much fun!

(Who wants to come visit us now?)

A Great Loss

2010-11-03T08:14:00.002-05:00

Last Monday, my 87-year-old Great Uncle John didn't wake up in the morning. When his wife awoke and found him unresponsive, she immediately called 911, but Uncle John had already quietly passed on from this life.

I've spent some time every day in the 10 days since his passing trying to decide what to write on the blog about this man's life and death (not so much for the readers, but for myself and in honor of Uncle John), but I simply can't find all the words. I think the speakers at the funeral had a difficult time finding the right words to honor this man, too. The eulogy provided a litany of good acts and successes that Dr. John had accomplished in his lifetime, but somehow all those lists fell short of describing the incredible impact this man had on the world.

His obituary can be found here, and if you ever need some inspiration to go out into the world and make a difference, read about my Uncle John's life.

Here's my list for Uncle John:

He was a husband of 63 years (he really meant it when he said "'til death do us part")

He built a hospital in Zambia, Africa; brick, by brick, by brick.

He always had time for you.

He adored his family.

He loved the Lord (and proved it).

He had the patience of Job, the heart of David, and the courage of Joseph.

He was a dentist that truly cared about every patient in his practice, and his patients loved him for it.

He was a great encourager.

He wasn't afraid to tell you that he loved you, or afraid to correct you or provide you with gentle instruction.

Throughout his funeral service and at the graveside, the line from Hamlet kept circling through my mind: "Goodnight, sweet prince; and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest."

Uncle John was a prince, deserving of all the reward he will find in Heaven.

Must Love Dogs

2010-10-27T08:46:00.007-05:00

I've been being a good little doggie mom lately and trying to socialize Dixie with other dogs. (The vet told me that she's behind on her socializing because she was in the shelter during her formative months...I'm pretty sure that's a little dramatic, but I'm trying anyway.)

I invited a friend and her little papillon/poodle mix over to the house the other night, and Dixie scared her to death. Instead of playing, Paisley spent the entire night on the couch (because she figured out that Dixie isn't allowed on the couch) trying to avoid Dixie's big paws. In Paisley's defense, Dixie is about 5 times her size. In Dixie's defense, she was really bummed that she didn't get to play.

My next thought was my friend Clayton who has a Weimaraner/Lab mix named Radar. I figured that Dixie might act nicer around small dogs if she knew what it felt like to be the little one. I would guess that Radar weighs around 100 lbs., so Dixie was definitely dwarfed by him. Their introduction was a little rocky, but after the first 20 minutes they were friends and spent the rest of the night chasing each other playfully around the yard.

Socializing? Check.

Clayton and I have been talking at school about getting the dogs together again for a play date, but he told me that Radar's been really busy studying for dental school...

After Clayton sent me those pictures, I told him that I really like pictures of dogs acting like humans. Like this one I found on the internet:
He told me he had a picture of our friend Richie's dog, Mocha, acting like a human who doesn't care for green beans.
Mocha REALLY doesn't like green beans. Poor Mister Ticklebritches. Doesn't like green beans...

Those dogs are doggone funny. Know what else is funny? Mexican Santa wearing a sombrero.
Courtesy of our local Goodwill. Can you believe someone wanted to get rid of that treasure!?!?

Googled

2010-10-19T09:10:00.002-05:00

Today during lecture I decided to update my grade sheet. Every semester I make an excel spreadsheet of each of my classes, their respective hour values, and insert the formulas so that I can just plug in my grades as they are given and the spreadsheet will calculate my GPA. Also every semester, I forget how to do the formulas on excel. Usually I can figure it out, but this time I just couldn't remember how to do it (am I getting dumber?), so I had to resort to the best reference ever created--Google.com.

I love the little "fill in the blank" function of google. When you start to type in your query, the program gives you choices below of the most commonly searched terms with those words.

For example, if you type in "Who is the best...", Google will offer: Who is the best soccer player in the world, who is the best rapper alive, who is the best dermatologist in san antonio, and who is best character in borderlands."

It's always interesting to see the search terms that come up because they are based off of things that people are actually searching at the time.

This morning when I started to type "How do you make formulas on MS excel," Google listed:

How do you make a heart on facebook
How do you make a penguin on myspace
How do you make a series on youtube
How do you make sure you're not pregnant
How do you make a resume
How do you delete your facebook

I had to cover my mouth to keep from laughing out loud, because I couldn't help but imagine that the same person typed all these questions. Well, just in case it was the same person googling away their troubles, here's a little advice...

If you're really serious about looking for a job, why not delete the facebook, delete the myspace, nix the youtube idea, don't have unprotected sex, and contact the nearest college's career counseling center to help you with your resume. You google too much (oodles of googles)! And what in the world is a myspace penguin?

I wonder what would happen if you googled "google"...

Probably the world would implode.

In other news, I'm still trying to teach Dixie how to be still to pose for pictures. Once she's got that down, I'll post some more. Expect them around December of 2012. We took her to her first vet appointment last week and found out that she had gained 5 pounds since coming home from the shelter. The vet was concerned that she still looked too skinny, so he recommended that we increase her food. Now she's probably gained about 7 pounds and I've lost 3 from taking her on so many walks. Puppies have a lot of energy to burn off!

The fun part is that she's already learning tricks. She can sit, stay (sort of), shake, lay down, roll over (halfway), high five, crawl, and fetch when she feels like it. Not bad for a four month old, right?

Speaking of 4 month olds, I'm doing a rotation in pediatric dentistry this week and next week...there will be stories--get ready!

Halloween Hubub

2010-10-16T19:39:00.002-05:00

Jeffrey and I met some good friends for dinner tonight, and on the way home we started discussing some costume ideas for a Halloween party coming up next week. This is how the conversation went:

Lauren: We could be Snooki and The Situation.
Jeffrey: I really don't want to spend the whole night wearing just a wife-beater.
Lauren: We could be trauma patients in the ER
Jeffrey: OR MEXICAN GANGSTERS!
Lauren: I don't think we should do something where we have to be a different ethnicity...it's too hard to change skin colors.
Jeffrey: We could be Michael Jackson and propofol, the pills he overdosed on
Lauren: Again, I don't want to try and change ethnicity.
Jeffrey: Michael Jackson was white at the end!

(long, thoughtful pause)

Jeffrey: WE COULD BE TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES!!! (He begins humming the theme song)
Lauren: Yes, we could. But we'd have to make shells.
Jeffrey: You could do that. I CALL LEONARDO!
Lauren: I'm putting this conversation on the blog. You should be embarrassed.
Jeffrey: Whatever, you're stuck with the loser turtles.

Dixieland Delight

2010-10-06T21:54:00.006-05:00

I have two important things to tell you, my faithful blog readers, and both are equally true:

The first is that we have officially adopted a dog. The second is that it is exceptionally hard to take a good picture of a puppy. Valid proof of both statements shown below.

Introducing Dixie Belle Edwards, our sweet little rescue pup. She is 3.5 months old and the vet thinks she is a weimaraner/hound mix. She weighs about 20 lbs now, but she probably won't be little for long. She's a very good girl who loves being outside and wants someone to be petting her at all times. We got her from the Bexar County Humane Society, which is a fantastic shelter that we would highly recommend!

Reverse Psychology

2010-10-05T09:12:00.005-05:00

These days I've been realizing that my Type A personality is actually starting to work against me. Usually it's good to be aware of deadlines, but sometimes (e.g. the 3rd year of dental school) being aware of your deadlines can make you hyperventilate.

The hyperventilation method was effective for a little while as a coping mechanism (you can't be stressed if you're unconscious from irregular breathing), but in order to protect my brain cells from hypoxia, I'm searching for new ways to deal with the pressure.

There have been many prayers and more scripture reading than normal, and those things help to keep life in perspective (this morning I read some chapters from Philippians and was reminded that there are things equally or slightly more stressful than dental school--like being chained to the wall in a Roman prison because of your religious beliefs).

Even so, I've still been pretty stressed, so the next form of stress relief comes in the form of backward or upward thinking. Upward thinking is just about escape. I call it upward because the escape place I always think of is climbing a mountain.

*Little known fact about me: I've climbed 5 mountains in Colorado on Wilderness Trek.
There's just something about the idea of leaving all these deadlines and stresses and escaping to the mountains that sounds so appealing. The way I would smell after a week without showering while climbing a mountain would be so appalling, of course, but the trip would be lovely. The longing for that quiet hiking experience has been so strong lately that I'm considering planning a trip in the summer. If you've never climbed a mountain before--you should come with me!

The backward thinking is fun, too. Jeffrey actually started this stress-reliever. He'll often ask, "Think of us X years ago...what were we doing? What were we thinking about? What were we worried about?"

The answers are often hilarious.

What were we doing 6 years ago? Making jack-o-lanterns at Jeffrey's parents' house, of course. What were we worried about? Getting into dental/medical school. We brought all our books and computers and notes on this "vacation" to Jeffrey's house so that we could study the entire time. The pumpkin carving was only a little break we took.
Clearly this isn't the best picture of me. (Was I on some kind of make-up strike?) Even so, I look so young, and so skinny! Nothing makes you feel skinnier than a picture of your face next to a big round pumpkin.

What were we doing 5 years ago? Marching in the Homecoming parade. What were we worried about? Worried about getting into club and finishing our pledge duties.
The smiles you see are just a cover--this picture was taken at the ACU Homecoming parade and neither one of us was very happy to be there. Jeffrey had stayed up all night working on their float, and I was wearing 4 pair of panty hose under that hideous yellow skirt as a punishment for someone being late to our pledge meeting. (This is probably where my propensity for hyperventilation began--4 pair of panty hose puts quite a strain on your diaphragm.)

Looking back makes me realize that "this too shall pass." And so will I. I will pass 3rd year. I will pass 3rd year. I will pass 3rd year.

What I've been working (and working and working) on lately

2010-09-29T21:05:00.005-05:00

Things I learned last night:

Cooking Spanish rice at dinner time smells delicious. Cooking Spanish rice at bedtime smells weird.

Don't ever start dental school projects at 10 pm.

A watched project never drys...and neither does an un-watched project.

I like sleep.

I stayed up way too late, and I had some bumps in the road along the way, but with a few "band aid fixes" to my project this morning, I got it all done just in time. Wanna see what I was working on?

This is a cast of one of my patient's teeth.

The green wax is an example of what her tooth will look like after we do the implant. (Except it won't be green...unless that's what she really, really wants.)

This is the thing that wouldn't dry.
It helps the surgeon to place the implant in the right place.

Since my guide never dried, it helps the surgeon to place the implant in the wrong place. (Just kidding--I'll remake it before the surgery.)

I'm not sure what grade I got on my presentation, but my classmates gave me lots of encouragement about my work, and that's worth a lot more than a good grade!

The Wee Hours

2010-09-29T00:19:00.002-05:00

It's 12:20 am on a school night and I am sitting on my red antique couch wondering, "Should I turn on the TV, read my book, or make the rice for the luncheon tomorrow?"

This begs the question: But, Lauren, why not just go to bed?

I'd love to go to bed right now, but I have a presentation tomorrow that requires a lab material that is quite easy to make and therefore was left to the last minute (10:00 pm the night before). As is always the case with dental school lab projects that are left to the last minute, catastrophes both minor and major are sure to occur.

And occur they did.

My lab project requires me to mix a special powder and special liquid together which then hardens into a guide that may be used for an implant surgery. It usually takes a few minutes to harden.

Problem #1: When I got home tonight, I realized that the bottle the liquid has been kept in for the last few days was leaking, so I only had enough for one try--no room for error.

Problem #2: For some reason that surpasses all understanding, my mixture is still not dry. It's been 2.5 hours, and it still feels like play-dough instead of rock solid plastic. I've worked on several other projects over the last couple of hours until I found myself literally watching the material dry at midnight.

That's just pathetic. (And anyway, a watched project never boils.)

So I can't get it to set, can't start over, and can't get any more materials until tomorrow morning at 8 am...exactly 1 hour before my presentation is due.

*Sigh. Whose idea was it for me to become a dentist? Was it the same person who thought it was a good idea to save this project until the night before it was due?

I think I'm going to go make the rice for the party tomorrow. Nothing says slumber party for one like a batch of Mexican rice, right?

Decorating for Fall

2010-09-23T21:03:00.005-05:00

This is the way we decorate for fall...

And this is how we decorate after a weekend trip...

Lovely!

Just to let you know--tomorrow is Jeffrey's last day on surgery rotation! Yay!

Lookin' Good

2010-09-21T08:25:00.002-05:00

Last weekend Jeffrey and I went to Abilene to watch his sister perform in Freshman Follies at ACU and to visit our families. The trip could not have come at a better time because since school started the first week of July we hadn't been more than 15 miles from our house. Impressive, huh? Not as impressive as our friend Chris (who is an Ear, Nose, and Throat resident right now in San Antonio). Chris told us a few nights ago that when he was a first year med student he only put 81 miles on his car in the entire first semester of school!

Anyway, Abilene was great. Freshman Follies was a strong year with fantastic "filler" acts and Rebekah's hall's act was really unique and fun. It was great to see my parents and talk with them, although their hot water heater rusted out the Thursday before we got there, so they had no water use downstairs. Usually Jeffrey and I stay upstairs, so it was no big deal for us except that we didn't get to have any of my mom's good cooking since her kitchen was out of commission.

We got to see lots of old friends at ACU stuff and at church. One thing bothered me, though. People kept saying, "You look great" to me.

My thought process is this: I look great? Awesome! I'm too sexy for my shirt, too sexy for my shirt, so sexy it hurts! Wait...does this mean I didn't look great the last time I was here? No one has said that since I left Abilene...have I not looked good for 2 years???

I asked Jeffrey if I was crazy to worry about this comment that was said over and over again to me throughout the weekend, and he said no. Then he said, "Maybe they think you're pregnant." (I'm not. But there's nothing like your husband explaining away your fears of looking bad by implying that people think you're preggers.)

I still don't know why people kept saying that I look great, but I'm choosing to believe that 5'4" girls with pasty white skin and really good dental hygiene are totally "in" this year. Don't try to convince me otherwise.

Non-cents

2010-09-14T10:50:00.004-05:00

In the dental clinic at school, patients are "required" to pay for dental treatments before or immediately after the treatments are done. To guard against patients running up high balances, our schedulers will not schedule a patient for their next appointment until they have paid for the previously rendered services. Occasionally, though, (and by occasionally, I mean most of the time) someone slips through the cracks in that system and ends up successfully making an appointment even though they have a balance.

New rule this year--patients who have a balance will have their electronic charts "locked," so no one can access their health information or continue treatment until the charges have been paid. Our schedulers have encouraged us to look on our patient's charts to see if they have a balance so that we don't get into that situation.

Let's break this down: Schedulers encourage us to look at our patient's charts to see if they have a balance. Schedulers lock us out of our patient's charts if they have a balance. Therefore, the only way we know if our patient has a balance is if we cannot look to see if they have a balance. Oh yeah, and if they have a balance they'd like to pay, we can't tell them how much they owe...because that information is listed in only one place: the patient's (locked) chart.

Just another way The Man (Dental School) is keepin' me down these days.

Overheard in the clinic

2010-09-01T09:10:00.003-05:00

Student: Have you ever broken a bone?
Patient: 165 of 'em.
Student: Wow. That's a lot. 165 broken bones, or 165 fractures?
Patient: It's real easy to remember. I broke everything on my right side in two places. I also died twice on the way to the hospital and died again at the hospital. They were wheeling me down to the morgue when my mom came in and demanded that they work on me some more. They didn't want to, but my mom argued with them for a long time and then filled out some paperwork and so they worked on me again and I came back.
Student, thinking to himself: None of this makes any sense.
Student: Ok, great. Let's move on to your teeth...

Sleep Talker

2010-08-25T20:56:00.004-05:00

As I've mentioned before, sometimes I talk in my sleep. Jeffrey is usually not very amused with this little trait of mine because it usually ends up costing him some sleep. Luckily, last night the thing I said was so weird and random, he ended up laughing instead of being mad at me.

Apparently, in the middle of the night, I woke up, quickly sat up on my hands and knees and said, "I'm so worried there's something in the bed."

Jeffrey said, "I think it's just us in the bed--do you want to lay back down and go to sleep?"

I did. Not one more word was uttered.

Why is my subconscious so weird?

One bright day

2010-08-24T08:11:00.002-05:00

This morning I felt like I was in one of those crazy poems from "Where the Sidewalk Ends."

One bright day in the middle of the night,
Two dead boys got up to fight.
Back to back they faced each other,
drew their swords and shot each other.
A deaf policeman heard the noise
and ran to save the two dead boys.
If you don't believe this lie is true,
ask the blind man, he saw it, too.

I woke up to the sound of the garage door opening at 6 am. As I got up to brush my teeth, Jeffrey was walking in the house from another long night on call at the hospital. He kissed me good morning; I kissed him goodnight. He went to bed, and I went to school. One bright day in the middle of the night...

Salmonella survivors

2010-08-21T22:21:00.002-05:00

As you may have heard, the largest shelled egg recall in US history is going on right now. A salmonella contamination has affected millions of eggs sold in thousands of stores across the country. According to the recall lists, the eggs that we used to make waffles for my visiting family last week are not contaminated, but apparently something we all ate had bad eggs. Seriously bad eggs.
Confirmed reports of salmonella have been received from the bathrooms of my mom, my dad, my brother, my husband, and me. In case you aren't familiar, let me give you a little definition of salmonella poisoning and the symptoms you might see. (Wikipedia forgot a few descriptive words in their description, so I've included some additional words in italics.)

First off, there are two major strains of salmonella that affect innocent and unsuspecting humans like the Oglesby/Edwards families: Salmonella Enteriditis and Salmonella Typhi. You’ll recognize “typhi” from typhoid, a very serious illness that has largely been eliminated in the United States--score 1 for vaccinations. Some types of salmonella carry typhoid, but the current egg recall has nothing to do with this kind of salmonella. The risk posed by the recalled eggs relates to Salmonella Enteriditis, which is the source of a great many cases of food poisoning.

Enteritis simply means “inflammation of the intestine.” If enough evil bacteria survives your stomach’s gastric juices, the salmonella grows in the lumen (lining) of the intestines and can cause frighteningly intense diarrhea without any warning as well as fever and debilitating cramping in your stomach. Such symptoms will often hit at the most inopportune times, like right when you sit down to interview a new patient in the dental clinic, and you will have to sit there talking about floss while wondering if perhaps you may have to find a change of pants if you don't get a bathroom break soon. Infants and people with compromised immune systems can suffer far more serious symptoms (right now, I can't think of anything more serious than explosive diarrhea). For anyone afflicted with salmonella poisoning, dehydration is a huge secondary factor (secondary to always remaining within an 8 foot radius of a toilet at all times). Symptoms typically occur as soon as several hours after ingesting contaminated food or as long as a day after.

I'd love to tell you more, but I have to go to the bathroom. Again.

Overheard in the Clinic

2010-08-20T20:59:00.002-05:00

Jeffrey's and my favorite quotes from patients today:

"Could I please talk to the head of all the stupid surgeons in this hospital?"

"I need to speak to a supervisor--the cap you put on my tooth is making me blind."

Go Forth and Multiply

2010-08-19T21:43:00.002-05:00

Today I had some lab work to do after my clinic appointment. Luckily we get most Thursday afternoons off to do such lab work and other errands. I was really excited about the idea of getting my work done and getting home before 5:30.

I had to mix up some casts for one of my patients. Our dental stone comes in separate powder packets, and each one is clearly marked with how much water should be added to mix the proper consistency. The stone I was using called for 13 milliliters of water per bag of stone. I wanted to mix 3 bags of stone at once. So here's your math problem, straight out of the 3rd grade practice book:

Q: Lauren is mixing dental stone in the lab. She wants to mix 3 bags of stone, and each requires 13 ml of water. How many ml of water should she add to the 3 bags of stone?

A: 39 ml

So would someone please tell me why I used 69 ml of water?!?! 69 is not even close to 39. I took AP precalculus and calculus in high school, then took precal at the college level, and yet somehow simple mental math still sometimes escapes me.

Anyway, I tried to add more powder and salvage the situation, but basically I just ended up with soup instead of the nice, thick consistent mixture we aim for in our stone. The cost of adding too much water is that the stone takes much longer to set. Usually stone takes about 30 minutes to set. Because I'm math-tarded, mine will probably be dry sometime next Friday.

This only goes to show that my friend Trang is right about the lab rule. The rule is this:

Amount of time required to do a lab project = 2 x (Amount of time you think it will take) + 40 mins

I thought that making my cast would take 30 mins, but applying Trang's rule I see that really it would take (oh no, more math!) 100 minutes.

(But somebody better double check that math for me.)

Roller Coaster

2010-08-18T09:27:00.005-05:00

Yesterday was quite a roller coaster ride. I came to school early to get ahead on a few lab projects. I was excited to see my new denture patient that afternoon. My denture patient was scheduled to have a custom impression taken with a tray that I made.

His appointment was at 2:00 pm. I broke his custom tray in half at 7:00 am.
As I started to remake the tray, I remembered that I was supposed to do an assignment for one of my classes, and it was due at 10:00 am. (In my defense, they only gave us one day to do it--we got an email on Monday about the assignment that was due on Tuesday. Still, that's a little embarrassing.)
I quickly got the information for the assignment and realized that not only did I need to do the assignment, but I also needed to print a hard copy.

To print, you have to put money on your ID card in the library and then follow 62 easy steps to use their printers.

7:45 am: Assignment is done (albeit very hurriedly done), money put on ID card, trip to the library, assignment is printed. At this point I decided to skip my 8:00 class (don't tell my teacher) so that I could finish re-doing that tray.

9:00 am: Tray is almost done, headed to class.

12:00 pm: Went to the lab to finish the tray, then set up for my patient.

I needed to check out about 40,000 items for my appointment, but my classmates helped me and made sure I didn't forget anything (that's the #1 way to waste time in the clinic--going back and forth to get items you forgot to pick up before the patient came). I met my patient, and as I was bringing him back to my chair, my scheduler saw me and said, "Lauren, your patient for tomorrow cancelled. You'll have to schedule someone else."

Great.

Worked on my patient for a while and was doing really well on time (the faculty like us to be done by 4:30 pm). At 3:00 I thought I would finish early....
...at 5:05 I realized that I was not going to finish early. Oops.

Finally got it done and asked the patient when he wanted to come again. He said that he really wants his dentures ASAP, so I had to give him the only appointment slot I have open for the next month...the next day's appointment.

Normally that would be fine, but between the first appointment and the second appointment I had about 6 hours of lab work to do in preparation. Gross.

So I was in the lab from 8-11 last night and from 5:30-9 this morning. The life of a dental student is so glamorous, no?

It could be worse, though--Jeffrey has his first night of "call" tonight. Wonder if he'll get to sleep at all...

Coffee or Tea

2010-08-10T11:35:00.004-05:00

Yesterday Jeffrey and I went out to eat with some friends from ACU who were in town for a couple of days. We decided on The Alamo Cafe for a some homemade tortillas and chips and salsa. Jeffrey and I arrived first, and Jeffrey got a call from Will while we were at the table because Will was lost. While Jeffrey was busy giving directions, an elderly gentleman began walking toward our table.

Since we were seated near the bathrooms, I assumed that the man was just headed there, but I was wrong. As he came closer I realized that he was holding a blind man's cane, tapping it right toward our table. He got up to the table, directly across from me, leaned over (drooled a little on our table) and said...

..."Would it be possible to get a cup of coffee to go?"

Uncertain of how to respond, I said, "I'm not sure, sir. We'll have to ask your waitress. Do you know what she looks like?"

Immediately after asking the latter question, I realized that I had just requested that a blind man recall the facial features of his waitress. Quickly I stammered, "I mean, do you know your waitress's name?"

He didn't.

I told him to stay there and got another member of the waitstaff and told her his coffee order. She went to fetch the coffee and I went back to the man. He was a little unsteady, so I held his hand until he could turn toward me and then I told him that they would bring his coffee to his table. He said, "I think I'll wait right here."

I'm fairly certain that it only took the waitress 3 minutes to get the coffee, but it felt like several years since the man stood directly in front of me, looking across my table into my eyes, but without saying anything. Finally, she returned with his coffee and led him back to his table.

10 minutes later, I heard a familiar tapping sound and found that our friend was returning to our table to make some other request. The waitress intercepted him and asked if she could help him. He said, "Are you the one who got my coffee?" She said yes and he handed her one dollar.

Shouldn't I at least get 50 cents of that tip?

In other news--Update on things that have happened in the oral surgery clinic:
We had a patient scream so loudly (not in pain, just nervous when we pulled her lip back to see which tooth was bothering her) that people from other departments at the hospital came to see what was wrong.

One of my patients exclaimed, "Ay, ay, ay!" each time I touched her (with a shot, with an instrument, or just on the shoulder).

Another patient came in for extraction of the broken roots he had in his mouth. They were broken because he had tried to pull his own teeth with the old string-and-door trick, and was unsuccessful. When we asked him why he didn't just come see us in the first place, he said, "Because they were hurting too bad and I knew I could do it myself."

July Fly By

2010-08-01T20:36:00.006-05:00

Pardon me, but I seem to have lost track of time...do you know where July went? The last date I have solid memory of was July 5th, when Jeffrey started his first rotation and I had my first day back to school. Since then Jeffrey's seen multiple lung transplants and open heart surgeries, I've filled my first cavities, my parents have come to visit, Jeffrey's aunt and uncle and cousins have come to visit, and, as I mentioned before, we've completely lost our ability to keep track of what day it is.

School is feeling less and less like school and more and more like the professions we came to school to learn. The dental clinic at school is a funny animal. Somehow it makes me constantly busy, yet leaves me feeling like I haven't accomplished enough at the end of each day. Jeffrey often equates his days to pledging a fraternity in college. (He's had to apologize for things that aren't his fault and answer questions that stump the residents.)

Still, somehow, through all the confusion of this new chapter of our road toward and M.D./D.D.S., we are still glad that we're here.

Speaking of chapters, I'm technically supposed to be reading chapters in my book about dentures because (cruel and unusual punishment of dental school #496...) we have a "reassessment exam" on Friday in that class. That means that we're basically re-taking the final from that class that we took last semester...you know, in case we forgot everything over the summer. Some of you out there might be thinking, "Oh, that's a really good idea..."

But you would be wrong. It's really mean. Really, really mean.

Reasons I can't study for that test right now, in no particular order:

1. Blogging. (Duh.)

2. It's Shark Week on Discovery channel. The other 51 weeks of the year, I totally root for the underdog (and by underdog, I mean the adorable, tiny seal pup trying to escape the jaws of, well, Jaws), but during shark week I am 100% behind the shark getting a meal. I have watched shark week so many times over the years that I think I'm starting to recognize some of them (the sharks, that is, not the dorky marine biologists), and yet somehow I can't take my eyes off those toothy monsters (again, the sharks, not the dorky marine biologists). I must have a serious tooth fetish. A dentist who loves shark week...you can't make this stuff up.

3. Reading. I love reading. I had to be told as a child to go outside and play with friends because I would have just stayed in with my little books all day if not for some coaxing by my parents. I don't know that I read a single book for leisure all year last year (due to my extensive required reading on "The Theory of Prosthodontics"), but I rediscovered my wordy friends at the public library this summer after I took the Board Exam. At that time I was reading 2 or 3 books per week off of my ridiculously long "need to read" book list. I've scaled it back to 1 per week now, and I really hope I can hold steady with that throughout this year. It feels really nice to use the non-science side of my brain.

4. I keep thinking about my patients. Things I forgot to tell them, things I need to do when I see them next, things I need to ask my faculty about, things I need to write in their charts...it goes on and on. I've even started dreaming about choosing shades for their false teeth. So essentially, I can't study for school because I keep thinking about school. Ridiculous.

5. (In whiny voice) "I don't waaaaaant to!"

So I'm not studying for denture class, but I am looking over a few notes because tomorrow I will probably be pulling some teeth! Oral surgery rotation begins for me Monday afternoon at the clinic downtown.

Sign of the Apocalypse

2010-07-18T19:33:00.005-05:00

You know that times are hard when the descriptive picture of your frozen pizza looks like this
And your actual pizza looks like this
Umm...has the price of pepperoni suddenly skyrocketed? Is there some strange link between the oil spill in the Gulf and the availability of pepperoni in the US? It makes sense that lots of places are skimping on shrimp, but why are they picking off pepperoni?

Totinos better watch out or I'll take my ninety-six cents elsewhere.

(Ok, I won't, but that's only because no one else sells pizzas for ninety-six cents!)

On another note, I think I'm going to brush up on my Spanish now. I called my patient for tomorrow and I don't think he speaks English. Why do I think that? Because three times I told him my name is Lauren, and three times he called me Yolanda.

Tomorrow might not be so bueno.

More solid proof that dental school is making me smarter

2010-07-15T17:55:00.006-05:00

Here it is--
I PASSED MY BOARDS!

I don't have a picture, but Jeffrey passed his boards, too! In fact, he not only passed them, he smoked them (just like I knew he would). Thanks to all of you who prayed, worried, and crossed your fingers along with us while we waited for our results.

Speaking of people who worried with us--some of them came to visit last weekend! My parents came down on Friday and then my grandfather and his friend, Helen, joined us on Saturday. We did the usual things (shopped, talked, showed them the school, etc...) and then we decided to try a new restaurant for dinner on Saturday.

My grandfather carries a list in his car of Texas Monthly's picks for best burgers and best steaks in Texas. Number five on the burger list is a place in San Antonio called "The Cove." It was so high on the list that we decided we had to try it.

I had heard before from my aunt and uncle that the place is quite a dive, but I wasn't prepared to see the restaurant sandwiched between graffiti covered walls and some of the outdoor tables literally inches away from a coin-operated car wash. I have to admit, I was scared.

I was more scared when I went inside and saw that the "Texas burger" that made Texas Monthly's list included refried beans and corn chips on it. Concerned, but not willing to back down, I ordered the burger with everything on it.

A few minutes later, I put the most delicious burger I've ever eaten into my mouth. Dee-eee-lish--ous! I highly recommend The Cove. Casual, fun, family-friendly, and so yummy.

Before we left the restaurant, we stopped to take some silly pictures. For your viewing pleasure...

In case you're wondering--we don't know the little boy in the last picture. He just wanted to take some pictures with us.

My First Patient

2010-07-12T21:54:00.004-05:00

Last week my scheduler at the dental school scheduled my first patient for Tuesday afternoon, July 12th. I spent a good amount of time reviewing her past year of medical history and the notes the last student had written in her chart. I examined her Xrays, and came up with a list of questions I needed to ask my professors before I saw the patient.

Yesterday my patient confirmed the appointment with my scheduler.

Today I stayed late with a professor to go over this patient's case and talk about her treatment for tomorrow.

Tonight, when I called her to confirm...
...she cancelled.
Not the best way to start out my clinical experience of 3rd year. It just goes to show that you might hate going to the dentist, but the dentist hates it more when you don't come!

Express Yourself

2010-07-09T10:20:00.002-05:00

Yesterday, in an attempt at being a good wife, I ran some errands for myself and for Jeffrey, then picked up a few things at the store to make a good dinner. (By "good" I mean "delicious," not healthy, because I picked up ingredients at the store to make bacon-wrapped green bean bundles. Yummy!)

I had only grabbed about 7 things, so I searched out an express lane that was 10 items or less. There were about 3 people in front of me, including the person who was almost done being checked. I assumed the line would move quickly, but soon I noticed that something was wrong.

*From this point on in the story, I will be replacing the curse words said by the individuals involved with 3rd grade insults written in italics. You're welcome.

The woman being checked at that time was huffing and sighing and generally acting annoyed as she bagged her groceries. The checker asked the woman a seemingly innocuous question (Would you like your receipt in one of the bags?) and the woman responded, "Yes. You booger-eater."

The checker, obviously upset at being insulted, said, "What did you call me?"

The woman said again, "I said you're a booger-eater."

The H.E.B. employee asked the woman if she would like to speak to a manager, and the shopper responded, in a voice positively saturated with malice, "Yeah, I would like to speak to your nerd manager because I need to tell him what a little poop face you are and that you need to be fired."

The employee called her manager over and the disgruntled woman began her expletive-laced tirade again. The manager somehow got her to stop long enough to ask what had happened. The woman then relayed the events that had led up to all this anger. She said, and I censor:

"That checker is a little piece of toe jam! I waited in this line for 5 minutes and then when I got to the front this brace face said (and she did this part in the most mocking voice), 'You can't check out here--you have too many items.' I told her that I could check out here, so then she wouldn't even bag my stupid groceries for me."

Can you believe it? She was enraged that the woman at the 10 items or less line protested her having 25 items. She was the one who was wrong!

All the while, the entire checkout line had been at a standstill. Hoping that the woman would hear me, I said loudly, "So she held us up by having too many items for the express line, and now she's holding us up with this?"

(She didn't hear me. If she had, I'd probably have a black eye, and she'd have an assault arrest on her record. That would have been awesome.)

Instead, she asked to see the manager's manager, related the story again, and finally huffed her way out the door after flinging the manager's hands off her cart when he tried to help her to her car.

What a woman.

Meet me at 3:15

2010-07-06T20:27:00.003-05:00

Well, it's 8:30 pm and I just tucked my husband into bed and kissed him goodnight because he has to report to the hospital tomorrow at 5:30 am. Unfortunately, his first days of school have been much more exciting than mine, so I'll be stepping in as his "designated blogger" until he gets a little more rest and a little more free time.

Today he had to go to a conference in a building that is technically within walking distance of our campus, but not really--because pedestrians take their lives into their own hands at every street crossing in San Antonio. (Example: Yesterday I saw a car stop completely at a red light, grow impatient in 3 seconds, and then turn left while it was still red.)

Knowing the dangers of walking, Jeffrey and Kevin (the other 3rd year on rotation with Jeffrey) took Kevin's car over to the building. When they asked the security guard where they should park, he said, "Anywhere you want." They informed the guard that they were students and needed zone 4 parking (like our parking pass says), the man said, "There's not any over here. You'll have to park elsewhere." They asked if their parking ticket could be validated with someone so they didn't have to pay. The answer, of course, was no.

Shaking off this confusion, they went to their conference and hung around a little bit afterward. Jeffrey was busy talking to someone in the building when his partner in crime suddenly started to pull him out the door. Kevin said that he had just received a strange phone call from one of the secretaries in the surgery office.

The secretary had called Kevin and told him that one of the surgeons wanted to meet with him and with Jeffrey. She asked, "Can you guys be in our office at the hospital at 3:15?"

Kevin, glancing down at his watch, noted that it was already 3:15 at that moment and they weren't even on the same campus.
He answered, "Sure."

Moral of the story: If you can't time travel, don't bother trying to become a surgeon.