for those of you who pray and are willing to pray for a stranger....

the sweet dog i've had for 14 years died last night. I got her when I was nine. She is my love, my sunshine, the shoulder I cry on when nobody else in the world gave a damn.

I am devastated to the point of hysterics. I have a test on friday and then five next week.

please, please if you can, pray for me.

i'm still crying about once an hour. I can't concentrate at all on my studies. I'm going to have to forget about honoring my classes after this block. I can't think about anything except my dog. She is not meandering around the house, sniffing at things, and getting into the trash. I don't hear the pitter-patter of her little feet on the hard wood floor. All I can picture in my head is that moment I held her in the towel, sobbing over her lifeless body. My friend, I miss my friend so much!

Thank for those who PM'd me. It was very comforting.

Things are slightly better today. I have not cried yet and its 10 AM so that's a record so far, haha.

I have a test tomarrow so i'm more scared than anything else. Fear is easier to deal with than depression or grief. I've gotten out of the house, there were just too many triggers there.

I know its all going to be okay. Its just going to be hard, very, very, very hard.

thank for those who have prayed for a stranger. It means more than you know.

Dec. 7, 2006
Cassie,
When I first saw you that day at the airport, when mom presented me with the most precious yorki-chi mix puppy the world had ever seen, I didn’t know then that having you in my life would change me forever. I was only nine years old and I had been blessed with the unconditional love and undying adoration of a perfect creature whom I named “Cassie.” I didn’t know then that your unfailing presence would calm me in my darkest moments, your soft fur would dry my tears, your sweet, knowing eyes would reassure me countless times, and your gentle spirit would accompany me all the days of my life long after you had gone. You would be my beloved dog, my faithful companion for fourteen years, and my very best friend on this earth. The ride home from the airport, as I stared lovingly into your crate and you stared back at me, would prove to be the beginning of an incredible relationship that would bind my heart to yours forever.
Cassie, remember those times when we rode the bike together. You loved to sit in that basket with your face piercing the wind. The world was our playground, girl, and we didn’t miss a square inch of it together. And the slumber parties? How many times did I smuggle you into a friend’s house under a blanket? Soon the bicycle rides turned into car rides and you were smuggled into dates at the movie theater instead of slumber parties.
There were many times you were there for me when nobody else was, Cass, like when my parents were fighting and going through a divorce. Those times we curled up together in the closet, hiding from the yelling and the anger, you saved me, you protected me, and you were my guardian angel. Those days I felt so alone, like the world didn’t care if I lived or died. But then you would always give me a lick on the hand and we would go to the park to read and lie in the sun. You cared, Cass, you cared. Was there ever a time when I was truly alone? No matter how bad it got I always had my dearest friend to confide in. You never told my secrets. You never lied to me. You never turned me away when I was in need a confidant, a shoulder to cry on.
You went to college with me too, Cassie. I refused to leave my dearest companion, even if it meant not living on campus. With every new year, new roommate, new boyfriend, one thing remained constant and sure in my life: My Cassie was there for me. I knew that every time I came home you were waiting there patiently for me, without fail, wagging your tail and begging for attention. For fourteen years, my sweet, you never failed to greet me at the door. I will always be thankful for that.
Cassie, I’m writing this to you because you are gone now. I came home and you were not there anymore. It hurts because having you is all that I know. More than half of my life you have been here. I understand, baby, I know you were so tired. I am not angry with you for leaving me. You stayed in my life for as long as your little heart could handle and maybe even longer than it could. Your final gift to me was the most precious of all. As you laid dying in my arms on the way to the vet, you mustered the strength to raise your head and hold my gaze with your beautiful eyes. I understand now, baby, I know. I understand what you were saying now. I love you too, my beloved friend. I love you too.

I will never forget you and what you meant to me. You were my childhood. You were my guardian angel. My one, my only, my Cassie. I hope to see you again, baby, because heaven would not be heaven if Cassie wasn’t there.

Love, Your Girl

Second semester is well under way and the pessimist in me has been reborn. Why you ask? Because being a medical student sucks your life away and spits you out like a inadvertant gulp of sour milk way past its due date. Melodramatic? Maybe. Overestating the horrors of medical school? In my opinion, I’m understating. One word (well, four):
United States Medical Licensing Exam step 1 (okay, maybe five words, hah). The “Day of Reckoning” is June 3, 2006. The mission: don’t die before then. It’s a greater challenge than you might think. This ridiculous beast of a test covers two years of eye-gouging, horrifying, brain frying material and makes the MCAT look like a sick, helpless kitten. Considering that the MCAT took me for a walk and beat the soul right out of me its nothing to say that I am a little afraid (try petrified, stupefied, mystified) of my “Day of Reckoning.” Just scheduling the date made me nearly wet my pants and call my mommy.
I’ve been studying off and on the past three weeks or so and have realized that I do not remember 80% of what they have tried to teach me in school. Fatty acid Synthesis? Endocarditis? Medial lemniscus huh? Tinea versicolor? WTF???
Okay, I guess I should calm the masses. It’s not THAT bad. The thing is I’m trying to do more than pass. I’m trying to murder that test and send it into the fires of hell where it officially belongs. Why so angry, girl, got some kind of vendetta? Yes. I got a 25 on MCAT. Yes, I said it, a TWENTY FIVE. My dog can get a better grade than that. Of course I have my excuses and my rationalizations for why I scored so low on that wretched exam but I can’t escape the feeling of inadequacy that has followed me everyday since. How many interviewers raised their eyebrows and questioned me about that stupid number??!!! It was humiliating to explain myself time and time again. Well, not this time, baby, not this time. USMLE is mine. I will tame the beast till its purring and pawing in my hands. But first I must be brave enough not to wet myself every time I think about it.

Perhaps I was too melodramatic on my previous post. My thread name does include the word "crazy" after all.

Today I got rained on in the cold and somebody drove by and splashed water all over me with their car. It made a huge wave of frozenness that enveloped me like some kind of giant whale. It soaked my clothes completely (my eyeliner was running down my face too). Why didn't I just skip class today? I thought that sort of thing only happened to people on TV but lo and behold, it happens.

I took a nice, hot bath when I got home. It felt soooo good. Thank God for water-heaters!

Wow. I haven't been on here in a while. I am currently in third year now and LOVING IT! Second year was so brutal for me and I cried through most of my step one studying. Luckily I murdered the boards and got a 258 so now I don't have to worry as much about getting into EM after all. All of that is behind me now, thank God!

Third year is so wonderful. I am excited to get up in the morning. I am actually doing what I wanted to do all along. Everyday I learn so many new things and I actually feel as if I did the right thing when I chose to pursue medicine. I have already been able to do many cool procedures such as lumbar puncture, suturing lacerations, and splinting fractures. I have diagnosed things (with help of textbooks and PDA of course!) and prescribed treatments! I have done about a million history and physicals which is still not old for me. I have been able to tell a to-be-mom she is pregnant for the first time! AHHHH, third year is so much more rewarding. I'm not just working for the "honors" anymore, I'm working for the patients and my dreams are finally coming into focus.

As far as my baby plans...it didn't work out. I never got pregnant despite being off of birth control for five months. I had so much excruciating pain during my periods that I was forced back onto the pill for a while because the progesterone really helped with that. I've been off again for that past two months and we're still trying but it doesn't just happen (at least not for me). We shall see...perhaps it will happen sometime this year.