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The Smeller's the Fellar!

It's me. I know it now. I'm the one with all the bad luck. I remember traveling to Finland with my mom, it took us about a month to get there and I thought "Wow, never travel with HER again". But last week's adventures in Houston got me wondering if it really was her. After this last trip though, I know it for sure- it's me. If you ever see me walk onto your plane, get up and leave. Rent a car. Hop on a bus. Pedal a bike. Build yourself a blimp and you'd get there faster.

I had an interview in Pennsylvania last week. Lucky for me this time, all the flights were wide, wide open and I had no problem getting on. The adventure started when the captain claimed to smell something "a little funny". They stopped the movie, flickered the lights on and off, and had everyone turn off their laptops, all in attempts to locate a funny smell.

For some reason, turning the lights on and off didn't work and they decided to make a distressed landing in Nashville. The pilot got on the p.a. to explain, "...no big deal, when we land don't worry yourselves about the fire engines that will be lining the runway, they're just going to make sure we're not on fire or anything".

So...we landed. And sure enough, there were firetrucks and ambulances everywhere. EVERYWHERE. We paused on the runway while they all drove around us acting official. At one point something must've happened because all the cars drove about 100 yards away just as fast as they could. I'll admit I was a little worried at this point. Finally the fire engines escorted the plane to the airport and we all got out and waited for information. And waited. And waited. There were rumors we'd be spending the night.

They never did find anything wrong with the plane. After a few hours we all just filed back on and continued our journey. I think it was all a little excessive - turning off all the electrical systems, a quick landing surrounded by fire crews, and hours of waiting just because the co-captain passed a little gas.

Lake Erie College of Medicine. Meh. It was gorgeous out in Pennsylvania, but the city itself felt a bit like Ogden. I didn't know this, but it's actually the biggest medical school in the country. One thing I really liked about it was their progressive curriculum. You can choose from a few different learning "pathways" that might be best suited for you. For example you could sit in lecture just like most schools, or you can choose a "problems based" pathway where you meet with a team of students and a medical case is presented. A member of the faculty guides the team to the appropriate questions and information, and all the students learn the material as it pertains to that particular case by asking questions or researching possible explanations to each case. So for each medical condition that is presented, the problems based students have to figure out the anatomy, physiology, biochemistry, and pharmacology in order to grasp what's going on. Kind of a cool idea.

Anyway, I liked the school, in fact, I can't think of a single thing I didn't like about it, but to be honest, nothing really blew my socks off either.


A.T. Stills called me when I was in Nashville: I got accepted. Rocky Vista called me today: I got accepted. I'm 3 for 3. With about 30 applicants for each seat nationwide, we are REALLY lucky to have any acceptances this early. Let alone 3. Goodness.

--Jonathan

Kirksville College of Medicine (KCOM)

So.... A.T. Stills University Kirksville College of Medicine. Hmmmm..... An old school, bucketloads of tradition and reputation. About a 3 hour drive from anything.

PROS:
-A well-established, well-known, respected medical school with a looong history of success.
-Dr. Stewart who I shadowed (and love) graduated from Kirksville and said nothing but good about it.
-The area is super safe. No one locks their doors.
-Everyone knows everyone. I interviewed with a professor that complained that all his students know what brand toilet paper he buys. (There's only one grocery store)
-Racquetball tournaments.
-Friendly, cooperative student body.
-The staff were all wonderful and so proud to be working there.
-If the second coming were to happen when I'm in a clinical or something, heck I'll be right there.
-My favorite and most challenging interviews so far.

CONS:
-No wonder Dr. Stewart loved the area so much, 30 years ago it must've been brand-new. No so much anymore, it's pretty much a dump now.
-Cadaver labs were ghetto. Ghetto, my friend.
-Really, its a good three hours from anything.
-Kirksville Missouri: Population 17,000


Basically, I don't think I could handle the area so far. Even though it IS a "great school". I loved the school, but felt grimy in the old beat-up small town Missouri. No offense.

And while we're on the subject of "great schools" I just read a fantastic article about medical school "rankings". It compared Harvard and Johns Hopkins to a bunch of no-name dumps, and guess what, their stats were the same. ALL medical schools in the country have a 95% pass rate for licensing exams (Meaning that even the Harvards and Yales of the world have a 5% fail rate just like everyone else). ALL medical schools have students that get into fancy-schmancy residency programs, and ALL medical schools curricula are 98% the same as others. The article even compared a small, inexpensive, unheard of state school with an Ivy-League school that was charging over 60 grand a year and the smaller school's board scores were much higher. It recommended choosing a school based on the cost of the school, the area - where you'd like to live for four years, and on how the school feels to you.

I couldn't agree more.

Anyway, I don't think I could do Kirksville. I have two more interviews scheduled so far, and I don't think I'm going to go to the one in Florida.

But I'll give a second thought to that whole "second coming" thing....


-Jonathan

The Plan Was Simple

The plan was simple. I had buddy passes to get from Salt Lake to Houston and from Houston to Kansas City. From Kansas City I had a rental car already reserved to make the 3-hour drive to the middle of nowhere Kirksville, Missouri.

That was the plan.

I got to Houston just fine, but that’s where the adventure started. I was supposed to get a flight around 9 in the morning, but apparently, it was stormy in Kansas City, so pilots were taking on extra fuel just in case. Extra fuel = extra weight = less people. I missed the first flight by 2 seats. No problem though, there were 4 more flights that day, and at very worst I’d for sure get on the flight at 7:45 that night, it had something like 30 open seats.

The next flight came and went, so did the second. I had been in the airport for 6 or 7 hours at this point and with each flight I got bumped from, the gate would change and I’d have to carry all of my luggage across the Houston airport. So there were 2 flights left – one at 5:30, and the one at 7:45 that was supposed to be a guarantee.

But apparently it’s tropical storm season in Houston. The weather turned nasty and the airport was anarchy. Tornado warnings? You bet. The 5:30 flight got postponed to 6:00. Then 6:30. The rain kept coming. Soon the board said 7:00 and there was talk of canceling the flight. This was bad news folks, if it got cancelled, all the people from that flight would roll over into the 7:45 flight and I’d be stuck in Houston. All I had the next day was a medical school interview. No big deal right? Just my future. Another worry was my rental car in Kansas City. Even if I DID get on a flight but it got in really late, I’d have no way of getting to Kirksville.

When the flight got postponed to 7:15 things weren’t looking good. I decided to risk it. I hauled myself across the airport to see the situation with the “guaranteed” 7:45 flight. By the time I got there, I checked the board again and that first flight was now saying 7:33. I figured if it were delayed ANY more, they would just roll it into the 7:45 flight and I’d be hosed. Yuck.

But somehow I got on! In fact I had a whole row if seats to myself. As far as I can tell, two planes flew from Houston to Kansas City at pretty much the same time. I landed in Kansas City at about 10:30 or so, had my car by 11:00, and after a LONG day at the airport I still had a 3 hour drive to make.

When Jen was looking at hotels for me in Kirksville, we had a hard time finding any rooms. In order to guarantee a spot, we went ahead and paid for a Days Inn. By the time I finally got there, I was a dead man walking. When they assigned me room #200, all I wanted was a clean bed. Too bad there was no such thing as room 200. Half the hotel was under construction and room 200 was gutted. When I told the hotel clerk, she seemed surprised that I wanted a new room. I opened up the second room and there was someone asleep in the bed. I opened up the THIRD room on a rather large and hairy man who asked “EXCUSE me?” By this point it was nearly 2:00am and I had dragged my luggage and myself all over the hotel. The FOURTH room? Under construction. So the manager got involved. She got a bunch of keys and just started opening rooms while I waited in the lobby. All other hotels in Kirksville were booked. I took a serious look at the possibility of sleeping on a couch in a hotel lobby. In my suit.

When she finally found me a room, she explained that even though it was a non-smoking room, I could go ahead and smoke if I wanted to – for all my troubles. The room was over in the construction zone and the only reason she had it still open was because the construction workers were using its window to run hoses and chords throughout the hotel. She said not to worry, she’d put a sign on my door and on my window to keep construction workers out. Now that I had a room, the manager and I got back in the elevator to go BACK to the lobby to sign some papers. She started looking a little confused and upset, “I don’t know why this elevator doesn’t work sometimes, we might have to take the stairs.” I politely replied “Um….I think you just have to push the button.” Down we went.

So she offered me a discounted rate, but she only knew how to get it down to $50. I had originally paid $58. I saved 8 dollars. At least she offered me a beer!

-Jonathan

1st Acceptance

So it's official: I'm going to be a doctor. I got an email from Touro University - Nevada saying that the acceptance letter is in the mail.

Phew!

Its nice to have an acceptance in my pocket this early in the process. From my very first interview even. And I really liked the school when I interviewed there. The best thing that I can say about it is that the students there are happy. I think that's the best litmus test for any school; how the students there like it.

I'm still hoping to hear back about Denver, and have a couple other interviews scheduled (so far), but it is really, REALLY nice knowing that whatever else happens, I'm going to be a doctor. I made it.


(To celebrate, Jen is letting me buy a venus fly trap).


-Jonathan

Rocky Vista University

Sure, the name of the school sounds more like a track of retirement condos then a medical school, but I really, really liked Rocky Vista.

Its a brand new private school in Parker Colorado (about a half hour out of Denver), and someone has dumped a TON of money into it. The building is great, the lecture halls were stunning, the labs great, and the technology is brand, brand new. They've only entered one class so far. I'd be the second.

Pros:

1) The faculty and staff are incredible. Most have 15-30 year experience teaching at other medical schools, and someone with the right budget was able to get some of the best teachers and physicians in the nation to move to CO. They were all so kind and for lack of a better word, real. Throughout the day, random Dr.s and staff would pop in just to say hello, answer any questions and tell us all they could about the school, but they didn't pass out rose colored glasses they told us the good and the bad. I was impressed with everyone I met.

2) The students were on the ball, proffesional and hard working. They all had bright eyes and you could tell they were going places. But there was not competitive, cut-throat feeling. They all cooperated to do they're best.

3) The school. It was awfully modern looking from the outside, but inside was nice, clean, new, and well-designed.

4) The area. I loved Parker. It's a new area with construction of new townhomes and condos everywhere. Housing is fairly cheap. There were youg families playing in the park. It has rules (a lot like Park City) about the design of its buildings, business signs, no overhead powerlines, etc. so the whole city looks sharp. There were flowers and trees in the medians of all the streets, and old fashion lamp-posts. The Denver area is pretty, and in a way it felt, I don't know.....homier? I felt like I was in my back yard, in a place that I belonged.

5) And that's the last "pro" really, it just felt good. The school, the faculty, the students, the area. It's not like concourses of angels were pointing the way towards Parker Colorado, but it did feel comfortable there. Warm, happy, good, familiar.

I really liked it.

Cons:

1) Jen is done with snow. I think she was pretty excited with my good report on Touro University last week, and I'm not sure how she feels about me liking this one better.



In local news, I just bet Jen a batch of cookies that it will hit 70 degrees by late March because she was convinced that in Utah it snows for 6 months.

Must've been a rough winter.

-Jonathan

He's still got it....

I have 2 cousins, Becca and Dave that are in different choirs at their high school. Trying to be supportive, I thought I should go. Leaving Jen home with homework and the flu, I journeyed towards the old auditorium. Because I was late, all the main doors to the show were locked. Finally I found a side door not fully closed and ignoring the usher's protests, I stealthily sneaked in. Not wanting to sit next to any strangers, I sat in a row that was completely empty. As my eyes adjusted to the light, sure enough I saw that the few rows behind me were full of tuxes and dresses – a high school choir. It didn’t take long before the all girls choir that was on stage finished their act and the choir sitting behind me left for the stage.

That’s when it started.

Unfortunately, the girls choir found their way to the empty row beside me, and I found myself shoulder to shoulder with a gaggle of high school girls. My life was very awkward at this point. Me, a lone man in a sea of pubescent purple poof. But it got worse from there, oh did it get worse.

APPARENTLY I was just sitting in the choir section and EVERYONE around me was in one choir or another. For the final few numbers everyone around me stood up and started singing! It was glorious! Then when they had to walk up to the stage, they ALL had to stumble past me while singing. I sat there awkwardly apologizing as each girl tried to step over me in their unfortunate dresses “Sorry, excuse me, excuse me, sorry, you sound great.” I soon found myself the only doofus in the ENTIRE section and everyone in the WHOLE auditorium was looking at me and laughing. Imagine an entire third of the auditorium empty and me, all alone.

After the concert, everyone that sang in the choirs gave me the stink-eye. I finally found my cousin Dave and told him the whole story. He asked, “That was you?!”

I just wanted to be a good cousin .

-Jonathan

Sweet Revenge

As many of you know, I committed arguably my greatest act of insanity this last month when I decided on a whim I'd like teach. Keep in mind I have no teaching degree or license. My related work experience includes teaching at the MTC, correcting my roommate's papers in college, and the occasional Sunday School lesson. The truth is I really missed teaching at the MTC and I was willing to do anything to become a teacher again. It only took me years to admit that to myself because I always swore I would never become a teacher like my mom. Not that I don't look up to my mom, but her idea of saving the world was teaching squirly 6-year-olds how to read and mine was usually something including becoming a world-class litigator who wins legal battles fighting same-sex marriage, domestic violence, and the pornography industry. I envisioned myself as a superhero using rhetoric and legal jargin to rescue the underrepresented from the jaws of today's most toxic evils. Now as I sit back and reflect, I realize I've undertaken a much more challenging mission: teaching 29 6th graders.

Before I begin to tell you a little bit about what my over ambition has gotten me into, let me first clarify, that I really do LOVE teaching. It just happens to be about the most challenging thing I've ever done, that includes learning another language, graduating from college with honors, pursuing a graduate degree, and also the time I decided to register and prepare for the GRE in a matter of 8 days while working full-time and going to graduate school. Anyone sensing a pattern?

So I really do love teaching but the year has been quite challenging. Aside from having virtually no support from my mentors and already being enrolled in 6 credit hours for my graduate program, I happen to be teaching 6th grade at a school in a population reminiscent of the inner-city. For the sake of my student's privacy, I'll spare you the details.

Last week, one of my most challenging students was a pubescent little girl we'll call Mary. She has a very difficult time focusing in class, completing her work, sitting still long enough to write her name on her paper, and not causing complete and total mayhem while she is not on task. We had several talks about her behavior and she admitted that it may help to be moved away from other students so that she will be less distracted. We moved Mary's desk to the only solitary corner of the room (remember I have 29 preteen bodies in my elementary-sized classroom--some of my students are bigger than me!) While in that corner of the room she managed to reek several acts of havoc while she was again, not completing her work. For example, she has managed to draw messy pictures with smeared ink all over her text books and other classroom materials, she dyed her hands bright blue somehow while mixing a concoction of several cheap makeup products with water, and most recently she removed the head on the drinking fountain, filled it with a small bottle of hand soap and replaced it. After PE that day my students lined up to fill their water bottles, resulting in a chain of involuntary spews of soap flavored water across the room.

The next day at PE, after I had explained the rules of nickle football (a brilliant game Jonathan shared with me that his 5th grade teacher used), Mary lined up with the other students to play. I reminded her that because of her recent decisions she was on a red card which merited the loss of PE privileges. She threw quite a fit declaring, "Good! I don't even card about PE anyway! I hate these stupid games and I'd rather sit out! Maybe I'll get red cards more often." I ignored her dramatic decent to the sidelines. To my admittedly utter enjoyment, not more than 15 minutes later Mary approached me, "Can I please play nickle football now?" I calmly informed her that the decision was not mine but hers. I could not revoke the consequences of her actions. "Please, please, PLEASE let me play. I'll stay in for recess, I'll stay after school as long as you want." (Keep in mind this is the same student who when asked to stay after class and talk with me dramatically proclaimed that I can't make her because her mother insists that she come right home after school and will be very angry at me if I keep her). Though I pretended to be unaware of her desperate pleas, it was perhaps one of my more glorious moments as a 6th grade teacher. I wonder if she noticed the corners of my mouth were twitching to hide my pleasure.

-Jen

A Lazy Sunday

I just ate a third of a pan of lasagna my friends. A third. But that's why Sundays are great isn't it? You wake up in the morning, put on a tie, worry about your sunday school lesson and its off to church. A 3 year old tries to swallow the mic bearing her testimony and you look at the empty sign-up sheet guiltily as it passes you by in elder's quorum.

But somehow it all works. You come home refreshed, recommitted, and ready for a new week. You loosen your tie and eat lasagna.

I am grateful for Sundays.

-Jonathan

These posts are from the old blog...

Touro University

On Tuesday I had my first medical school interview. It was at a small private school just outside of Vegas called Touro University. Touro was actually started in Manhattan by a hasidic jew. Lunch was kosher AND delicious. A few years ago, Touro established medical schools in Vegas and Mare Island California. Impressions? Touro in Vegas is basically Utah’s second medical school. I had no idea, but about 50% of the school is Mormon. I ended up sleeping at a student’s house who graduated from Weber. There were 8 of us interviewed, 3 were from Utah, and 4 were LDS. Walking around campus I saw at least 3 BYU shirts. And the whole day, it felt like the Mormon interviewees were being catered to.

Pros:

1) I could handle the area despite the heat, everything is new and very family friendly. And there’s a lot of chances for missionary work.

2) The student body is all cooperative and friends with each other. A good sense of community, no cut-throat competition.

3) Roger Corbman, director of admissions is phenomenal. All of the faculty are pals with the students, there is a 100% open-door policy.

4) Jewish holidays. School starts a few weeks early because of all the yom kippur / rosh hashanah / sukkot days off. Sweet.

5) Cheap-ish real estate.

6) Cheap food and entertainment in Vegas.

7) Cheap flights to come home, or for visitors to come.

Cons:

1) The "campus" looks like a Costco. One giant, window-less, square building. On the corner of American Pacific and Auto Mall Row.

2) Billboards. Yikes.

I have two California Redwood sprouts in my apartment. The tallest trees in the world.

Redwoods and Pomegranates

Be glad you’re not married to me.

Sure, my ironing skills are impeccable and I do make an incredible cheese sandwich, but sometimes I’ve just gotta wonder what it would be like. I tend to get on these kicks where I’m fascinated and encompassed by only one thing at a time. Right now it’s plants.

To graduate, I find myself enrolled in an upper division microbiology course and for about 3 weeks we studied plants. We picked them apart and grew them in the lab. We cross-bred them. We turned leaves into roots and roots into leaves. As a zoo. major, I was spellbound. Plants are nuts. So…. I remembered my bonsai tree I had back before my mission. It was about 20 years old (thanks again for killing it, mom) and I loved it. Instead of doing homework or working on essays for medical school admissions, I spent a lot of time looking at bonsai plants. Then I discovered it: you can buy any old seed from any old cool-looking tree and turn it into a bonsai-esque miniature version of the actual plant! My little brain whirled with the possibilities as I typed my way over to eBay.

Here it is about a week later. I have seeds from the California redwoods germinating in a specially concocted soil in a dark closet in our guest room, pomegranate tree seeds soaking in warm water on the dining room table, and seeds of all kinds in the fridge in the newly claimed "Jonathan shelf". I bit into an apple and planted all the seeds in a cup on the window sill, and when I saw that Jen had bought an extra large green pepper, I couldn’t see those seeds going to waste so they’re there too. Seeds from a dwarf orange tree are on there way. So are the seeds from a Japanese plum tree. Somewhere I heard that you could propagate new trees from the branches of others so now around the apartment I have cups full of planted branches in various stages of dying.

Homework stays undone. My wife and I haven’t had health insurance since she started her new job because I’m in charge of filling it out. I have ONE application left and haven’t been able to force myself to do it. The apartment could be cleaned. I’m out of clean underwear. And all the while I’ve been playing with plants.

Unfortunately today Jen showed me the credit card statement. My few blissful hours on eBay cost us $47. I promised her that something like that would never happen again.

But it still might.

Bless Jen’s heart for being married to me.

–Jonathan

Racquetball

For family night we decided to try our hand at some racquetball down at the Bountiful Rec Center.

I don’t want to talk about it.

–Jonathan

Really? A Blog?

So I’ve done it. I made a blog. You can rest assured that I feel adequately hoity-toity about the whole thing. But we figured with so much going on right now it’s as good a time as any. Jen with her new job, and me with a few med-school interviews coming up, this might be a decent way to keep everybody posted. Besides, Jen is too mature for facebook.