Reflections on Week One

I can’t even remember when I decided that I wanted to be a doctor when I grew up. I asked my parents after my White Coat Ceremony when I first started dreaming about becoming a doctor. They smiled at each other and said together, “Little.” When I was ten, I recall discussing with my dad that I was going to practice out in Montana in a rural enough area so that there would be elk in my backyard for him to hunt. Or maybe that was him telling me?

Either way, I’m not ten anymore. I’m twenty-two. I’ve wanted to be many things other than a doctor between then and now, but I’ve always returned to the desire to become a physician. However, it’s no longer an idle dream. As I settle in my bed this Friday night, I realize that I’m waking up from that dream into a reality.

I have just finished my first week of medical school at A.T. Still University's Kirksville College of Osteopathic Medicine .

It almost feels like I’m at space camp- here I am, with all of these intense learning situations and simulation opportunities, but soon I will pack up and go home.

Not so much. This is the real deal. I’m a student doctor!

For those of you wondering what it’s been like so far, it’s intense. We have class from 8 until 5 Monday through Friday with an hour lunch break. Our schedule has yet to show any resemblance to a routine other than that. Many of our classes meet every day, and the professors pack as much as possible into each 50 minute lecture period. I am taking Histology, Anatomy, Osteopathic Theory and Methods, Biochemistry, Evidence Based Medicine, The Complete DOctor, and a Society “class” (GC peeps, think COR class). The majority of my studying has gone towards Biochemistry, but I think that Anatomy will soon overshadow that (we just covered Embryology in two days, folks. 9 months in two days.). My favorite class is Histology. I don’t think I have a least favorite class. Some are just harder to stay on track with than others.

Here are just a few other notables…

I love:

-How closely each of the classes are intertwined.

-The enthusiasm of the professors, and how they seem confident in knowing exactly what it’s going to take to turn us into the best doctors we can be.

-How one of my professors had to leave class early today to deliver a baby (several of our teachers are practicing clinicians).

1 WEEK's worth of notes!  Yikes!

-The humongous stacks of notes I’ve received ->

-The excitement that I share with my Histology prof when he thrills over the beauty of the dome cells in transitional epithelium.

my amino acid "game"

 -The sigh of relief that sneaks up in my chest when I realize that I understood what my Biochem prof just explained.

-The ten minute breaks in between classes.

-Being one of the few kids who isn’t freaking out (out loud) yet. It’s weird being in a class of almost entirely type A over-achievers.

-Our adorable apartment
 
-New friends

-Talking to Jeremy on Skype

-Cooking yummy food for our study breaks (aka dinner)... tonight we're attempting to bake spaghetti squash!

-Sleep. I’m starting to value it more and more each night.

-Realizing on a daily basis that I’m getting the chance to follow my dreams.


Prayer requests:

-That we would find a church and a Bible study.

-That I would figure out how to structure my studies for each of my classes.

-For focus

-Health and safety

-That I would be a positive, Christ-like example for my classmates

-That meeting new people wouldn’t be so ridiculously taxing


In several of my classes, I've noticed that I can't help but exclaim in my head, "I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well." (Psalm 139:14)

As I consider how much I am learning about our bodies now, and look at my course schedule to see how much MORE I'm going to know about it in four years, I know that the "full" in that verse will become even fuller.

Week two of medical school?  Bring it on.

Just a little dreamin'

Profolio Assignment #1: Write an introduction of yourself as you would expect it to be after your life as a physician (service, memories, accomplishments, etc would you leave behind).   

Disclaimer: I have many big dreams... this is just one of them.

We are gathered today to commemorate the accomplishment of our dear colleague, mentor, and friend. As you all know, Dr. Catherine Weyers recently received the honor of becoming the 2040 recipient of the Nobel Peace Prize at a ceremony in Oslo, Norway. We celebrate this honor and achievement today with Dr. Weyers. She grew up in the small town of Canton, Illinois, and went on to receive Bachelor of Arts degrees in Biology and Chemistry from Greenville College. It was while in college that she initially learned that millions of individuals around the world lacked clean drinking water, and she began to wonder what she could do to help. She attended medical school at A.T. Still University’s Kirksville College of Osteopathic Medicine. While there, she participated in a variety of clubs, including the campus UNICEF chapter. Upon graduation, she married her college sweetheart, completed a family practice residency in St. Louis, and then settled into family practice in rural Illinois.

After eight years in Illinois, the couple slowly began the non-profit organization Lots of Drops, birthed from Dr. Weyers' undergraduate departmental honors thesis. The organization partnered with many other non-profits, as well as the United Nations to advocate the cause of those without water. Dr. Weyers' vision was that if a large number of people would partner in some way with those lacking water, that the quality of life would improve- not only for those lacking this basic resource, but that the life quality of the donors would increase as well due to increased global awareness. It is because of these partnerships that she shrugs off the honor, explaining,

“It was not through me, but through those we worked with that such great things were accomplished.  We worked closely with the individuals here in the States, and eventually in Europe through their universities, churches, and civic organizations to bring a better quality of life to those they’d never met. You see, people want to do good. They want to serve others. It breaks our hearts when the basic needs of those even thousands of miles away aren’t met. We also had the privilege of networking with wonderful organizations. There are countless individuals who work tirelessly to serve the under served- in office, and field work, governmental and nongovernmental positions. It was through them that we were able to connect with those in need, the most important group involved. We had the opportunity to explore what services they needed and how they would become involved with the upkeep and management of the water provision or purification system involved. Basically, we had to ask ourselves how could we empower them with the means to not only to survive, but also to live well.”

She and her husband raised over 10 billion dollars and were the direct liaisons for the provision of 800 communities across Southeast Asia, South America, and several regions of Africa with clean drinking water. Dr. Weyers handed over Lots of Drops to a partner organization in 2030, and dedicated the next portion of her life to further serving the people of Africa.  Moving her family to Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, Dr. Weyers joined a group of physicians from Addis Ababa Medical College in leading clinical rotations through the throughout the rural areas of Addis Ababa, focusing primarily on preventative health, such as drinking water and malnutrition. After spending ten years working in Ethiopia, she and her husband have returned to the United States in order to be closer to the youngest of their 7 children, who is attending Greenville College. Her husband will be associate professor of Chemistry at Greenville College, and Dr. Weyers will be an adjunct professor of Anatomy and Physiology as well as teaching Bioethics.

In reflecting on the deep impact of her last 30 years of service, Dr. Weyers thrills at the differences  they have seen in the communities that this clean water has reached. She said,

“Children that were sickly and dying are now thriving adults. Those who were consumed with the wars waging over the few water sources available are now peaceful old men. Women who once spent much of their days transporting vessels of water to their homes have started small businesses to provide revenue for their families! It’s all so very exciting! And just think… 10 billion dollars seemed like such a large figure in the beginning! I would have never imagined that we would have even gone above our goal!”

And exciting it is! We are excited for the small role that we were able to play in your journey, and we celebrate your service to the world, and your acceptance of the distinguished award of the Nobel Peace Prize. Dr. Weyers, would you like to share a few words?

Savor the Breaths

My mother is easily excitable. An isolated example of this can be seen in our family trips to Canada. Even though we’ve driven down the hill into Duluth hundreds of times, she still makes us turn off our game boys, close our books, and sit at attention as we roll through the city of her birth. Once we actually arrive at our cabin, each time we see a loon or eagle is like the first time we’ve ever seen a member of that genus. She snaps pictures as though they are part of a rare and unusual species, when in reality, we see the same loons and the same eagles every summer.

I never really noticed this trait until I brought a friend to Canada with us. She rolled her eyes each time we had to slow down the boat by the eagle’s nest or as we all were hushed to silence as we approached a beaver.

Although it may sound like I’m mocking Mom, I’m really not. You see, I’m just like her. When I spot a loon and hear its eerie cry, shivers run down my spine. As I walk across the lawn in Grandma’s backyard and I see Lake Superior, my heart skips a beat. I will never tire of the sunset over Namaken Lake. I am stilled in reverence as I watch the eagle settle in a tree, and I want everyone around me to experience this moment as well. Every time.

I recently took the Myers-Briggs Personality Test. According to this lovely sorter, I am reduced to four letters- INFP. Many personality gurus have typecast traits onto such groupings of letters. Here’s what one such individual said about my “type.”

“INFPs never seem to lose their sense of wonder. One might say they see life through rose-colored glasses. It's as though they live at the edge of a looking-glass world where mundane objects come to life...” (typelogic.com)

Yup. That’s about accurate.

Someone else once said, "Life is not measured by the breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away." Well then, I've been given a fairly large serving of life because I am breathless often. The sight of Queen Ann’s Lace bordering a full field of corn cradled by a clear blue sky often causes me to take a sharp inhalation. When I was recently able to observe a baby enter the world, my breath felt lodged in my throat in the pure amazement of it all. When Jeremy told me that he loved me for the first time, and then kissed me on the forehead, I thought my breath had been completely stolen away. Each time I attempt to fathom that in a few short days, I will be entering into school to become a physician, I can hardly breathe in excitement.

Breathless moments, followed by the deep, rhythmic patterns of filling one’s lungs.

In... Out... In... Out...

Ever since I was in junior high, I’ve stopped to savor many of those "in and out" moments, as well as the breathless ones. At particular times in my life, such as days on the beach, in the mountains, holding an infant, etc. in which I want time to stand still, I do just that. I stand still. I try to remember everything about that moment in time. “Why do I want to tuck this moment away? What are the smells wafting into my nostrils? How does the air brush against my skin? What is this emotion I am experiencing in my chest? Am I really the one feeling these things? Is this my experience? Am I really alive? I must be! I’m smelling, I’m feeling, I’m fully cognitive… or so I think…”

National author and speaker Don Miller attemptes to describe his moments of experiencing the utter awe of life in his book “A Million Miles in a Thousand Years.” He says:

“It was a phase, I think, but I used to suddenly realize I was alive and human… Back then I wondered why nobody else realized what a crazy experience we were all having. Back then I’d be lying in bed or walking down a hallway at college, and the realization I was alive would startle me, as though it had come up from behind me and slammed two books together.“

Astounding, isn’t it? That you are alive? Miller goes on to discuss why he thinks that we miss out on experiencing this wonder more often:

“We get robbed of the glory of life because we aren’t capable of remembering how we got here. When you are born, you wake up slowly turning lights on, and you’re groggy and pointing at things saying 'circle' and 'blue' and 'car' and then 'sex' and 'job' and 'healthcare.' The experience is to slow that you could easily come to believe life isn’t that big of a deal, that life isn’t staggering. What I’m saying is I think life is staggering and we’re just used to it. We all are like spoiled children no longer impressed with the gifts we’re given- it’s just another sunset, just another rainstorm moving over the mountain, just another child being born, just another funeral.” (Miller 58)

Savor the glory of the moment. The sunset. The eagle. Coming over a hill and seeing the place of your birth. Savor the moments in which you remember the pure glory of being alive.

There are times in life that we can’t help but rush around, but then, there are times in which it is almost mandatory to pause and reflect and absorb and praise. I’m thankful that my mom taught me to stand in awe of the moment. I’m grateful for the moments that I halt in my steps in wonder of the miracle of life.

I praise you, O Lord, for the eagles and the loons. I thrill at the moments that I have stood speechless at the lake. Your handiwork is wonderful! And to think that you designed it all because of Your love of beauty… and to think, I am designed in Your image in that way. Thank you for sharing it with me. I praise You for the warm fluttery feelings that You stir within me as I hold a new baby or lean contentedly in my boyfriend’s arms. I am grateful for the joy I experience when spending time with my siblings. I marvel at the beauty and distinctiveness throughout Your creation. I thank You that it is most often the glory in the little things that help us put into perspective the “big” things.

You are so good.

Beach Glass Reflections

My grandma lives on the north shore of Lake Superior, and the beach behind her house is one of my favorite places to spend an afternoon. I bask in the glory of my surroundings, however, much of my time is spent staring at my feet. My siblings and I spend hours sifting through the rocky sediment looking for perfect pebbles to bring home as mementos of our time at Grandma’s. They scour for agates- semiprecious, banded, earth-toned rocks that are well known on the North Shore. To me, agates are pretty, but they're not what catches my attention.

I love beach glass. I love the sheen that is cast when their little facets catch the sun. I love the silvery whites, burnished browns, eye-catching greens, and cool blues. I love that most of them are tiny. I love that no two have been broken the same. I like the ones that have been tossed by the waves for so long that they are smooth, like a pebble. I like the ones that have barely been in the lake long enough to lose their jagged edges. I like the way they stand out on the neutral beach, silently screaming, “Pick me!”

I love beach glass.

I think that sometimes it’s easy to identify with beach glass. Perhaps that’s why I like it so much. At times, we are broken. Something happened and caused us to shatter. Can’t be fixed. Because of the breaks, we’re just swept off the dock into a merciless lake. The fresh shards are very prone to the perpetual movement of the world’s waves. Ouch! Who wants to be bashed against a pier? Crashing storms, shifting currents. Powerful forces, so colossal that they can even grind off the sharp edge. It’s rough to be like a piece of glass in the polishing process.

Whew! What a relief to be swept up onto a beach. Have you ever felt like a sun-basking fleck of glass- as if you catch the sun a little bit differently than all of the other pebbles on the shore? A speck of bright green amongst all of the muted tones, when all you want to do is fade into the beach?

*sigh*  It's rough to be broken, even after you've been rescued from the waves.

But maybe, just maybe, it’s part of the design. Perhaps its a measure of grace that when our little life bottles are a little bit chipped, our pieces are swept into the lake. They could very well be pitched into the dumpster. But for some strange reason, a divine being sees fit that our broken edges and corners are beaten around by a few waves, and are washed up on the beach.

Perhaps it is a part of a grand sort of redemption that our brokenness can turn into a little treasure. Some are white and brown- common and reoccurring. Hurts such as these are all over the shore of life. Others are brilliantly colored- seemingly rare, but still occurring more often than you’d think on this big old beach. Unfortunately for the broken, they stick out just a little bit more. Some broken pieces are well-worn, as if they’ve been tossed by the waves time and time again, beating off the painful edges in an even more painful way. Some have relatively fresh breaks, but with just a small storm, their edges no longer pierce through the skin.

A walk on the beach offers a perfect, pocket sized reminder of this salvation from our brokenness. Not necessarily that He mends us back to our original bottle, but that once the world has its way, He can salvage our pieces and make us beautiful in a new way.

Lord Jesus,

I praise you for seeing fit to turn the things in life that are broken into gems of beauty.I pray that the little bits of brokenness in my life from the mistakes I have made will bring You glory. I marvel at the way in which You use your grace to take even the wrong in the world to magnify Yourself.

Father, I am drawn to the beach glass on the lake shore. Please guide me to those who are broken and are feeling the effects of the waves. May we together shimmer a little bit brighter, bringing glory to Your name.

I praise You for the beach glass, and for the many little reminders of Your grace abounding in my life.