Kbetch

Something tells me I should write again... so here I am, taking a quick break from a fun chapter in Neuroscience, spitting out randomness from my drained cerebral cortex...

Well, it's been a while and all that's percolating in my mind are just plain rants... It's been a really frustrating stretch dating back from my summer MCAT quest (which turned out horribly wrong) up to this day, where I am still feeling the remnants of an untimely burnout.

Well since it's really close to Thanksgiving Day, I'll turn this inside out. I thank the Supreme Being for all these killer challenges that will mold me into becoming a good doctor in the future...

-Summer MCAT review...been doing real great on AAMCs and The Berkeley Review Practice Exams. I've hit a few scores as low as 27 and as good as 34... been averaging 32-33.

-Night before the MCAT- Aug. 24th, 2009.... Been really bored and kinda freaking out- I SHOULD BE STUDYING! Decided to go to a coffee shop. Sipped coffee outside while going over material. Decided to JOG at Cerritos Regional Park. It was 9pm, a little foggy, and cold for a summer night. BIGGEST MISTAKE EVER.

-Exam day, August 25th. Woke up with chills. Took the exam with chills, fever, and an irritating runny nose. Realized the inevitable outcome. To temporarily remedy this, I went with my friends to a baseball game that night at Angel Stadium and got piss-drunk.

-Later that night, went to Sharkey's in Newport Beach. Had no recollection of what happened.

-Later that week, went to Las Vegas. Returned home Sunday only recalling about 1/3 of what happened in the trip. Oh shit. FALL SEMESTER BEGINS THE FOLLOWING DAY!!!

-Burnt out.

-Sept. 29, 2009. Afternoon. Studying for a midterm. Checked AAMC. Saw MCAT scores. A plunge to a 28. Did not study anymore. Got teary-eyed.

-Downward-spiral in classes. Did not talk to anyone for a solid week. Developed extreme acne. Hated the world.

-TODAY- time to recuperate. Time to repair borderline A's. Time to raise B+s to As. Time to think. Time to rise again...

It's been really tough. But I have one more chance to patch things up. One more chance to let resolute diligence to take over.

MAPS 1st Premed Meeting

Cal State LB Premeds!!!

Todd Bennett from the UC Irvine School of Medicine will be coming to talk to us about UCI SoM Admissions and the Post-Baccalaureate Premedical Program...

Also, this is our FIRST committee meeting...we will be introducing our newly-revived group and we will be giving out information about our activities for the semester. This is a great chance to network and mingle with fellow premeds on campus!

See you at USU 204 12-1pm

Free Pizza!!!

MAPSPremedCommittee.Gerry.Reinier.Juan.Monica.Shrey.Esteban

Who cares?

I'm drunk and it's normal for a premed student who just took the MCAT. Yes, I am checked-in at the Treasure Island at Las Vegas and I am abusing the unnecessary brain cells utilized during my MCAT review, So yeah. F yeah.

MCAT day tomorrow...I am counting exactly 8 hours 45 minutes before I click "start" and take the dreaded exam.

Am I prepared? Yeah. I am aware that although I couldn't stash every bit of information and every bit of test tactic in my limited brain, I can still score great on this exam. Rational optimism is key at this point. I've spent the entire summer preparing for this exam and I have absolutely no plans on retaking it.

So for now...chill.

Tomorrow...KILL.


rest assured more sensible blogs detached from inner emotional predicaments will be posted in the future, after tackling the hurdle that is the MCAT and after settling the ever-apparent heart-mind discourse on that person that has definitely struck me hard in so many ways

Lesson From A Kid

A 32 y/o lady was brought in to our ER via advanced life support ambulance. She had a blood glucose level of 51. It was a really crazy night- all our nurses were busy and the priority at the moment was not this patient. I helped the medics unload her into the gurney and I started taking her vitals and started the history for the nurses. She was not that sick sick but boy, she really was in bad shape. 203/105. 102bpm. 96% sat. 96F. She was diaphoretic and very cool to touch. I had everything ready when the nurse came in and I then stepped out to get her warm blankets.

"Who called the ambulance?" I thought to myself. Obviously there might be family members around. Such a dumb question to myself. Why that question popped up- I had no clue.

"Hey Jasmine thank you for calling the ambulance, okay?" The patient uttered with a heavily-detectable hispanic accent. Who is Jasmine?

I turned to her bedside. Jasmine is her 10-year-old daughter.

Tonight, my greatest mentor and teacher wasn't Dr. Shapiro, MD, nor the ER Nurses, nor my MCAT textbook and flashcards. It was a ten-year-old girl. She taught me presence of mind- the ability to act deliberately and correctly given the circumstance, however pressing it may be. How amazing is it that a child like her can be taken for granted and blatantly overlooked, yet the same child could teach you a very important lesson that you'd only expect from seasoned adults.

"Good job!" I told her. She had the biggest smile I've ever seen in such a long time. And I know that it stems beyond my adulation to her. It saved her mom...The only one she's got.

Blog Hiatus

Looooooooooooong time!

Finals are over, but the actual work has just begun. So I started studying for my MCAT and it's been frustrating. The material is okay, obviously, but what is killing me is the verbal section...I just couldn't make the connections between the passage and the questions...the process of elimination is very helpful, but I can't solely rely on that.

Ugh.

At this point, I'm really burnt out. Not just from MCAT stuff, but also from the recent semester. Everything's taxing heavily on me, at the most inappropriate of times.

5.0 quake

After getting saturated with a crapload of diuretics while studying, I felt the natural urge to empty my bladder. I went to the Student Union restrooms and did my thing. While I was keeping my kidney, ureter, bladder, and urethra happy, I felt the room shaking...

Hmmm...the walls look like they're moving

And why is this going on for forever?

Holy cow! An earthquake!

I stayed calm and finished my physiological response. Damn. It's still shaking.

I let the shaking settle, and I ran outside the restroom. Everyone was up from their tables and were uttering WTFs.

Scary.

dive into hell week

Coffee
Red bull
Smart water
textbooks
whiteboard
markers
laptop
practice tests

library basement or student union

get to campus by 7:45am. get off class by5. study til 2am every damn day. all week.

welcome to hell week

Annoying Sorority Girls

I was walking towards the Horn Center (place on campus where you print your stuff if you're too far from the library) when these two weird-looking girls came up to me. Looks like they were part of a sorority and they were handing out pamphlets for an event. They smiled and popped the most random question I've ever got:

"Are you friendly and outgoing?"

Stunned, I thought to myself "what the hell kind of question is that?". I opened my mouth and these were the by-products of that thought percolating in my head:

"uh, NO."

Equally stunned with what I said, I walked away like nothing happened. I think the last words I found audible from them were "asshole" and "jerk"...

I laughed.

The Pen Transplant

"Dr. Wetzel, would you be interested in speaking at one of our club meetings this fall semester?"

"Huh? Like what do you mean?"

"Oh it's because you came from a Cal State too and here you are, an ER doctor...you'd be a great source of motivation for us students"

"Uhm...haha"

"Well you can violently decline doc, but..."

She laughed and left her seat to go check on one of her patients...

Although she seemed reluctant to the idea, I knew that she wanted to do it. Earlier during the shift, she agreed to come help out with the health fairs and eventually, the free clinic that me and my buddies were planning and working on launching this fall semester. So why wouldn't she come speak to one of our meetings?

A couple hours and a gazillion ER scutwork later, she called me.

"I have a mission for you, Reinier!"

"Yes ma'am!"

She took out a retractable green ballpoint pen from her pocket. It was one of those freebie pens from annoying medreps.

"You see, I love this pen, but it ran out of ink. I want to use it again. Do a pen transplant! If you do, I'll come to your meeting!"

I took the pen and smiled. What the hell am I supposed to do with this? Is this a joke?

The ER wasn't that busy so I had the chance to employ my analytic skills, manual dexterity, and fresh knowledge of biochemistry, biology, calculus, physics, chinese swordsmanship and astrogardening to this critical case. This is ballpoint pen surgery. I am pioneering the pen transplant. The first of its kind in the world. No it wasn't being done at Harvard, Stanford, or Hopkins. It was here at Anaheim. And the primary surgeon was me. I call the shots. The fate of Dr. Wetzel's charting delight, the premed club meeting, and the pen relied on me. I was the- what the hell?

I analyzed the pen. Is this fine point or medium point? Hmmm...oh it has a spring mechanism. Oh cool. So I stole a bic pen and another freebie pen similar to hers.

Cool. I took the other freebie pen since it shared the same spring mechanism and parts. The bic pen was extraneous to the operation- discarding it was imminent and inevitable. As heartbreaking as it is, I had to let it go. It served no purpose. I took the functional clone, dismembered it, took out the vital ink-containing component of it which I have labeled "spine" plus the "cervical support" that employed Hooke's law (spring, idiot! F=kx^2), cut it down to size, and "transplanted" it to Dr. Wetzel's pen.

The great pen surgeon has delivered. Another first. Another breakthrough operation. It was a complete success!!!

"Here you go doc!'

"Hmmm...let's see (she scribbles TCA on my biochem pathways cheatsheet)...oh it worked!"

"So you're coming to our meeting this coming semester?"

"Yeah!"

"Suh-weeeeeeeeeet!!!"

reinier's screw moments 1

Me and two buddies just decided to screw studying that night, relax, and have fun. All in the interest of "prepping' ourselves up for the last stretch in school. Yeah, we won't have any fun time for three weeks since finals week is fast approaching. Plus we're all taking the MCAT on the same day a couple months after. So this is the only time to chill.

As with most male college students, beer was the standard. Given that we were all tired after a 12-hour school day (that's actually less than the usual) plus we had more studying to do and more assignments to worry about, we weren't in our fun mode. This yields horrible consequences, especially when it comes to pickup lines and creating conversations...

J doesn't drink a lot. So he had just a glass of beer and A LOT of water. He wanted one more glass...of water. He called the server, Mary.

"Hey can I get a glass of your delicious water?"

Mary gave her a WTF look and laughed.

"Thanks you're the best!" J followed up.

The screwup highlight:

This girl had two rings. I got curious. So I asked her what were those rings for (like, what the fuck are you doing in a bar with a wedding/engagement ring?)...she said "Oh this is from my mom and this is from my brother, blah blah blah"...

"Oh cool. I cut rings in the emergency room."

"Oh okay"

As soon as she left, it all sank in. My buddies laughed their asses off and I just realized-

"What the fuck did I just say?"

Damn. Might as well told her that I can describe the TCA cycle to her in detail. Or maybe offered her my leftover fried rice that was sitting in my car. Crap.

To this day, that line has left an indelible stigma. My buddies couldn't wait for that day when we're all in medical school doing our rotations and one of them will effin call me just to tell me that they had cut a ring in the ER for the first time. The bastards are looking forward to that.

Game Time!

This is it...the final stretch...
MCAT this summer, more tutoring this fall, more ER work, more upper-division science classes, then the AMCAS.
Bam! Let's slam this!

CSULB Minority Association of Premedical Students

Finally, after a brief hiatus, CSULB MAPS will be up and running this Fall '09. Me and five other board members are reviving this organization. This time it's gonna be different...

Although MAPS stands for Minority Assn. of Premedical Students, we welcome other pre-professional students to join the club. You don’t have to be part of a minority group to join…this club is an association of future doctors whose focus is on serving minorities in medicine, i.e., the underserved populations.

The board has defined a clear objective for the organization- To be ACTIVE pre- docs. We will minimize information-soaking meetings that mimic lectures by actually doing premed stuff. We will learn by going to conferences (instead of us bringing speakers), participating in health fairs (you want first-hand medicine and public health, right?), interacting and connecting with mentors from med schools (valuable first-hand advice from people who have gone through the process). We want you to get involved!

We will establish connections with UC Irvine Latino Medical Student Assn (LMSA) and The Student National Medical Assn (SNMA). These are two national minority physician/medical student/undergrad groups that are well-established and thus will provide us great resources in our pursuit for medical school. Check out www.lmsa.net , www.ucilmsa.org , or www.snma.org for more info.

The main project of the club is to set up the first free clinic in Long Beach, thanks to David Kramen’s (board member) ideas and experiences. We will need all the help we can get.

We will help you get into med school by providing channels for involvement in academics, mentorship, and community service.

See you next Fall!

How To Destroy A Nice Song

A shameless video clip of me practicing (destroying) Bamboo's rendition of "Waiting in Vain". Great song. Well, I suck. I know. THE reason behind me liking this song is profound-it plays around major 7th chords! The soothing, jazzy effect you hear. Ooh. Love that key!

So, enjoy practicing criticism on this piece of...whatever.

WTF?

Physics lab. So we were working on diffraction grating and we were supposed to obtain and measure angles to figure out specific wavelengths of an atom's emission spectra...i.e., we wanna see different color bands that a specific atom emits. It's beautiful!

Anyway, our experiment was supposedly planned to run a little less than three hours. Since I like to go home early, like every lab period, I didn't really bother doing ALL the work- calculations, procedures, report outlines, thinking, equipment set-up. So essentially, my lab partner has benefited tremendously from my haste. I just wanted to get out of lab. I finished everything in 1.5 hrs.

I went to my professor, signed out of lab, and waved good-bye to my lab partner who's still working on his calculations from the data that I almost entirely generated.

"Hey bro, It's okay to have fun on weekends! See you next week in lab"

Hearing that comment, I stopped for a bit...WTF?

You think I'm a dork who doesn't know anything outside the realm of studying? Whoa. Hahaha. Wrong impression, dude. Flattering though.

"Haha okay see you bro" was what I uttered. Of course my mind was thinking otherwise. I think what my mind was trying to say was "I HAVE A LIFE TOO, BRO. YOU CAN GO TO HELL".

Uhm, yeah. I think it was that.

LB Superior Court

"Next!"

Yes! After about an hour of waiting in line it was finally my turn! As I was walking to my assigned booth, I was contemplating of lines to say to the person who will decide the fate of my recent traffic ticket

"Your majesty, please grant mercy to your lowly peasant who hath nothing more to spend"
"Hey, I didn't see the stop sign. It's not my fault!"
"I don't know how to read."
"Please spare me"

Oh shit, I didn't realize I've been in the booth already and wasting the court's time

"uh...uh...here's my...ticket. Ma'am."

She looked at it. "What do you need?"

"Can...uh...I go to traffic school?"

"When was your last traffic school?"

"June...?"

"NO."

I waited for a follow up. She just stared at me.

"So what do I do now?"

"You're done. You may leave now."

ACK! That's two hundred bucks down the drain and a point in my driving record!

Thank You, Sir

It's been really tough these past few weeks. It's like everything's monotonous. Incomplete. Like everything you've been doing, or doing, seems to be pointless. That feeling of helplessness still hovering. That feeling of loss. Constant wondering. What ifs. What I hope to happen. What I have to get myself ready for. The sad part is, I have to admit, this may go on for quite a period...

I need a bit of a spark, a break from the sad reality I'm in, a reminder that I still have to do my thing.

"Fudge. What's the code to the break room again? I haven't been to work in forever (two weeks)...hmm...[toot toot toot toot toot...toooooooot]...oh okay. Cool."

I hung my jacket, grabbed my trauma scissors, pen, and some antibiotic ointment packets. Checked my assignment, and rushed to ER2.

"Holy crap...I've only been here for thirty minutes and It's been like forever."

Then it felt weird being there. Until I gradually picked up on my work efficiency and started rolling. Then it felt okay. I was in my turf. I was in a place that will guarantee my financial security for the next two weeks and the bills that I have yet to pay right now.

"Oh Reinier can you do a long-arm splint on bed 21?"

"I'm on it!"

Then I started joking with the kind sir whose arm I was going to subject to torment. I told him and his daughter that I was gonna cut his arm and replace it with a robocop prototype arm. We laughed. I then worked on the splint. After the torture and the laughter, I was out of the room and I called the transporter to take the gentleman to radiology.

Wow. It felt great. Somewhat an oasis in the middle of the desert. I felt that the patient was subtly telling me not to slip because there are a lot of people like him waiting for me.

Although it's still a tough road ahead of me- endless work to do, nauseating concepts to learn, difficult personal issues to endure, confusing emotions to tackle- I have to power through.

My patient told me so. Thank you, kind sir.

AAAAAAAAAARGH!!!
UUUUUUUUUUUGH!!!
FUUUUUUUUU...!!!
UUUUUUUUUUUUU!!!
WAAAAAAAAAAHH!!!





Ugh. When?

Effin Proud!

Effin' proud...my brother just got home from school...

"kuya, I got a 108/100 in my OChem exam!!!"

Man, mentoring does pay off...

What The?

Maybe I've been reading too much science stuff. I think I can still read and appreciate non-science books though. Finished Tucker Max's "I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell" and currently reading, actually on hiatus, "Practicing- A Musician's Return To Music". So far I am okay with it. Just okay with it since I don't really know most musical jargon. So whatever. I'm utilizing the minimal amount of music theory that I still remember.

Where am I going with this?

I recently read an article on Harper's and this was about Leo Tolstoy. I have no idea what they're talking about. I don't get it why Tolstoyan Scholars argue whether one of Tolstoy's novels resemble Alice in Wonderland. Who cares? And why are they fretting too much about the metaphor of Anna Karenina and Kreutz Sonata? Yes they do have ramifications with our society, world, whatever...but what does that do? It's pointless!

Man. No wonder I'm not an Art History major or some artsy pants. Oh, I remembered struggling in my humanities class during freshman year. I thought I'd make a good Liberal Arts Major...not!

The Big Issue Right Now

Aside from the obvious (MCAT), the big issue in my undergraduate education is research. Research= Good Research and Academia-Oriented Med School= Academic Medicine.

I took time off from my research lab because I want to focus on my tough courseload this semester and I want to prepare well for my MCAT this summer. I am returning to my deserted bench this fall semester with a project waiting for me- Dpp (decapentaplegic) signals in Drosophila melanogaster...I have yet to clear the scope of my project with my Principle Investigator, Dr. Elizabeth Eldon.

So I want to do really well in this project and hopefully get some quality data that will allow me to go present my research at forums without looking like a tool. Or a telemarketer talking about fake supplements.

What bothers me a lot is that although I enjoy this active research role in my lab, I really want to delve into biomechanics or anything related to cartilage/bone cell biology. I've bombarded the Orthopaedic Hospital in LA multiple times and I've got a reply from a ghost. I really need to look into it more. And even if I were allowed to infiltrate the great OrthoHospital as an unworthy researcher, the logistics will kill me. It's FAR! I remembered doing research at LA County-USC cancer research lab and not getting anything done since driving from Cal State LB to USC Health Sciences Campus was a bitch. It sucked since I was already designated a team in Dr. Landolph's Cancer Biology lab...would have been enjoying the nanoparticles team project.

So now, I have to do something about this. Maybe figure out a collaboration at the LB VA medical center. Or check out other local research powerhouses. Or hope for a paper to be published in our lab.

...

I can't fall for this nicely-disguised trap again.
Too much at stake.

I'm almost there.. I'm on my way to my dream.
I'll promise myself to take good care of this last phase first.
Slipping is not an option.
Just this one. Do good on it. Take it right the first time.
Then this will pretty much set where I'd end up.
Everything else is a smooth ride. My remaining year in undergrad.
My year where I etch my name in this place.

And you?

Yes I do miss you
And oh I've always enjoyed your company
You were so much more
Something I'd never had that great before
Something that I just can't let go
It can't be just one-sided...you'd be lying to yourself.

BUT

I can't settle for just this
Understand for now you can't give more than this
Nothing has confused me this much before
Maybe you haven't realized things yet
Maybe you have to figure it out for yourself

So you said goodbye for now.
And I let you said goodbye for now.

And there was hell...


...And then a chance to get back up...

... with an unlikely decision to wait.

AND SO

For now I have to not know you.
For now I can't let you derail me again.
For now I have to forget you.
I can't let temporary bliss create a permanent loss.

I can't goof around when my bright future is at stake.

It's the most painful decision I had to make.
It's the only way I could better myself.
The only way I can set things straight.
The only way I can let you see me.

The only way we both will be ready.

And when it's all okay
I'll probably pop up again.
I'll invite you back to my innermost circle again.
And I'll be more than ready to let you around me.

See where it takes me again.
Quite plausibly another hell? Fine. I'll be far away soon anyway.
Quite possibly you fulfilling your promise? Great. You're worth the wait.

And here we go...

Suh-weet!

It's ridiculously cool how I get to drive a brand new mitsu eclipse for a week and a half while my '02 civic is under surgery...man I wish I had the money to buy this eclipse...

Fun times! Gotta watch out for the highway patrol and the university police...too many traffic violations already!

Yay-yeah!

Spring Break!!!

Yes, it's that time of the year!

Hmmm...snowboarding? Vegas? Santa Barbara? San Francisco? Yosemite?

Oh, wait...

Biochem exam II. Online quiz. Online assignment. Cell bio exam II. Physics exam II...

Wow. Everything due 2 weeks into the second half of the semester.

No spring break!!!

Athletic Allusion- Freeverse

You were like my red bull
I was like a monster athlete
Then a ridiculous ban was set
Then I can't have you

I can still make the shots
I can still drive and finish
But man it seems hard
Would have been better with extra

Now I have to train to get better
This is gonna get me further
That ban will inevitably get lifted
And then I'll have you again

MLSC Bathrooms

I was using the bathroom to discard biological waste and toxic fumes when another person utilized a proximal cubicle for the same reason... Yes I was taking a dump and this person took a crap too about 2 toilets away...

His phone rang and probably by force of habit, he picked it up.

"Hello? Oh hi how are you doing? Blah blah blah...dear, I'm in the bathroom but it's okay..."

I smiled and pushed on the flush lever. I wasn't finished yet.

"[toilet flush sounds]"

"..."

Their conversation paused for a bit.

I was trying to appease the uncontrollable laughter waiting to burst out...for safety reasons, I did not leave the cubicle until I was sure he left...

What I Really Want RIGHT NOW

Aaaaagh! I want my Les Paul guitar now!!!

Wala

Kakasimba ko lang at kakarating lang sa basement ng library ng school. Di pa ako makapagsimula, kaya pinaikot ko lang ang paningin ko. Daming tao. Nakakainis. Wala ang katahimikan na hinahanap ko. Sarado yung student union. Nakakarindi ang mga nakapaligid sa akin. Walang katapusang mga tanong. Walang katapusang kwentuhan. Walang katapusang paglipat ng pahina.

Tinuon ko ang atensyon ko sa sarili. Anak ng baka. Di ako mapakali. Naalala ko uminom ako ng mala-pitchel na baso ng kape. Kumain pa ako at uminom ng coke. Sabog ako ngayon.

Di ko rin alam kung bakit ako nagta-type eh. Labo neto. Wala namang ako makausap ng matino dito. Anak ng tokwa. Walang makaiintindi kapag nagbiro ako ng tungkol kay Michael V at Diego. Wala namang makakaalam pag nagsabi ako ng "anak ng syoktong" at "pucha". Di ko naman din pwedeng kausapin tong gagong katabi ko tungkol sa medisina- mukhang business yun pinagaaralan eh. Pati yun nasa kaliwa ko na tila nasa sinehan na nanonood ng computer habang ngumangata ng popcorn. Naiinis ako gusto kong sapakin.

Naalala ko yun kotse ko. At least madaling hanapin. Pag may nakita ako sa parking lot na walang bumper at lundo yun tambucho, akin yun. At least tumatakbo pa. Tamang tama, may sasakyan ako pag nang-holdap ako ng tindahan. Naalala ko rin yun nakabangga. Anak ng tokwa. Matanda kasi. Sana bayaran ng insurance nya. Wala akong pera eh.

Labas nga muna ako. Siguro sisimulan ko tong Physics mga alas-otso. Tila sasabog ulo ko eh. Dapat nagbasketbol na lang ako para mawala lahat tong caffeine. Para akong adik.

It's been hellish for me but you know what? Whatever. I thrive in adversity. We'll see how things turn out.
Time to go to sleep. Time to recharge. Time to recollect. Time to get ready.

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!!!!!!!

what the f....!!!

some old dude rear-ended my car and the entire bumper fell off!!!

I don't have money for this bullshit!!! Plus my traffic violation, mcat review class, blah blah blah

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH

Will someone give me a winning lottery ticket?

Shi-et. When it fucking rains, it fucking pours. It's been a stream of fucking bullshit for weeks already! 

I am really pissed. It doesn't show in my face- it's as straight and as calm as a blank stare- but I am a flame thrower about to explode inside!

Old Couples Are Cute

Reinier, Dr. W wants his staples out.

Yessir! But can you take a look at this surgical site though? I think it needs some patching.

Just steri-strip it. Put benzoin around it.

Yes, Doctor.

As I was removing the staples from this sweet old man's suprapubic surgical site, I couldn't help but listen to this really moving and heartwarming conversation he was having with his wife. Yes, they're an old couple with hearing aids, dentures, and canes ornamenting their wisdom-filled appearances but man they're like a sweet college couple.

Well, honey I gotta go and take care of buddy (their dog)...they will call me if you'll get admitted.

But I want you to stay.

Do you want me to stay? How about this- I'll go home take care of some stuff then I'll come back in the morning? That way I won't be tired and you'll be all settled when I come back. 

Okay...

But do you really want me to stay?

Yes dear. I love you.

[Holy cow it was like a real-time 50's chick flick happening right before my eyes.]

I'll stay dear.

What was going on was really sweet but I had to interrupt it. I felt like a douchebag for spoiling their moment. 

Sir, I need to put some more antiseptic. I've removed all the staples and I need to patch the site with some strips. It's like sutures since it applies tension  to hold the skin together. No needles though.

What?

I forgot he's hard of hearing.

I said we are almost done, sir.

I bandaged the site afterwards, took off my gloves, shook the couple's hands, and said good-bye. God bless your years together. That was a rare moving experience amidst the chaos that I am in right now. I just thought to myself that it would be really nice to be in that position (well, not the disease and aging but you know what I meant)...

Whatever.

Way to go, Felipe! Harbor-UCLA Emergency Medicine!

I'll be at your medical school graduation! Congrats on your NRMP Match Day Results, i.e., your fate in residency!!!

I've been staring blankly at my textbook for about an hour now. It's like I'm waiting for something to jump out from it.

Read through hundreds of words. Comprehended zero. What is on my mind is completely different from what is on the book.

Thoughts are flying. Sight is wandering. My pencil is dancing.

Turned my computer on. Started typing. Pouring my mind on a piece of writing.

I feel indifferent. I feel empty. I feel weird. Something is missing. I don't know. I can't decipher this. This is stupid.

Now I stare blankly at the wall. It's clear. It's white. It's missing something.

I don't know.

College Finance Management and the Coveted Guitar

Haha...just got my paycheck today...so I checked my bank account hoping that I'll be able to have some extra dough to buy Carlisle's Les Paul guitar...oooooh...finally. My first rock guitar. Well, it sounded really good when I played jazzy riffs on it. Man I fell in love with it right away. The best part is that he's selling it to me for $200 only! As opposed to >$700 at guitar stores...it's been collecting dust in his room, waiting for its new master...

Wait, I took my wallet out. A crapload of receipts. I grabbed my ledger. Started to input my expenses against the cash I had. Plus add-in my hard-earned dinero. Oh wait...what are these envelopes doing on my desk (I haven't seen my desk in a week)???

Bills. Damn. Opened each. Then I opened my online financial obligations...

So I subtracted these. Finished paying all my bills about 15 minutes ago. Some extra remaining...no deficit spending this time. Then I factored in my recurring incidentals that I HAVE to allocate money for, i.e., gas and groceries (I'm not spending money on crappy campus food! Fresh and Easy is the solution!)...

Finished calculating income and expenses. Voila! The bulk sum that I had about two hours ago suddenly turned into a whopping two cents!

No guitar for now.

What the pho?

Spring Semester Tips- Idiot Version

Got a big exam coming up? Just don't study for it. Everything will fall into place.

During your OChem exam, sit right by the fire alarm. Once you've encountered that problem involving aldol condensation reactions and if you don't know what the hell an alpha-carbon is, you can pull the fire alarm. It saves everyone from the same predicament.

For biochem quizzes- the safest answer would be "phosphorylation". You'll get at least a 1% on the exam.

Drink lots of red bull and coffee when you study. That way, you'll be all fired up and you can study the entire night. Then you fall asleep while taking the exam.

When studying, apply the concept of osmosis and diffusion. Sleep with your head lying on the textbook. The knowledge will go down its gradient. Don't put a pillow. Remember Fick's law of diffusion- distance is inversely proportional to diffusion rate.

Again...an ochem lab technique- you wanna find out if alcohols are oxidized to carboxylic acids? Drink a lot of alcohol. This will cross the blood-brain barrier easily. Then it's gonna let you know how it does it. Trust me.

Wanna get into a lab? Work as a janitor and you'll have access to ALL the labs of your choice. You'll be working in genetics for 30mins, then you're delving into neuroscience for about an hour, and next thing you know you are learning how to minimize entropy under biochemical standard states in the biochemistry lab next door.

Premed? So screw all your classes and just get involved. You wanna stand out? Instead of shadowing a surgoen, shadow a butcher. Premed club president? How about being predsident of the Alcoholics Anonymous club? Volunteer in a clinic...in a VET clinic. Tell admissions people that you love to work with cats and dogs and that they share similar physiological mechanisms with humans like breathing, sleep, eating, etc. Participate in an anime club to show that you are a well-rounded person and that you can transcend language barriers by knowing songs in japanese and by knowing martial arts on cartoons. Start a club too. Maybe a cargo pants club will do. It's unique.

Good luck! Hope my tips help screw your chances of getting a great future. You can always flip burgers as a back-up.

Pay Attention

Spring semester! Just thought I'd share some tips...

Start fishing for research labs this semester. Email a number of professors that fit your interests. There will be lab space for the summer and fall- undergrads graduating and masters students finishing up on their thesis. You don't have to start this summer right away...Just get your foot in the door.

Study systematically. You think taking biostats, ochem, and bio is too much? Not really. If you have a set routine and if you know how to prioritize, chances are you'll be able to finish your dreaded tasks and homeworks on time. Learn to review your notes right after class as you'll forget most of it at the end of the day. Studying in bits and chunks will save you from cramming and eventually bombing your exams. You wanna get A's, correct? You wanna make up for the horrible C in ochem last term, right? You wanna get into med school, right?

Oh, get some sleep before your exams. Makes you think clearly and more efficiently. DON'T YOU STAY UP THE ENTIRE NIGHT. Why? Read the paragraph again.

Always psyche yourself into doing great on exams/quizzes/etc. Never underestimate this. It yields good things.

Visualize you future. Looking at the big picture just helps you stay on track. Focus on the long-term while working your way through the short-term.

Don't settle for anything less than you deserve. Get out of your comfort zone. Go for something better. Always. Power through.

Hang out with like-minded people. Select a few that you'll stick to through thick and thin. These people will be your lifelong friends and colleagues.

Pray. It works.

Weird Morning

I arrived a little before 8 this morning in school and there was this certain weirdness that I felt while walking to my class. It was unsually quiet...not a lot of students on campus yet. I could hear that peaceful rhythm set by the birds, smell the blooming flowers, and feel that soft cool spring breeze as I strolled through upper campus on my way to the lecture hall.

Something must be terribly wrong. I'm not used to waking up to really nice mornings like today. I'm not used to walking on campus with my head up smiling (usually I walk with my head down, always preoccupied with stuff, thick eyebrows converging) I didn't take melatonin or benadryl the night before. And I certainly had my usual 5-6 hrs. of sleep. What the hell is going on???

Yes it was really weird but...it felt pretty good! Very rare! I really enjoyed it. Some magical beast probably put drugs in my OJ this morning.

Unofficial Plug-In

Oh hey... music videos and more. If you're into Pinoy music. Really creative...

http://pelicola.tv/

This is where I'd usually watch fresh releases from my favorite Pilipino musicians- music videos, interviews, backstage scenes, etc.

Utterly Discombobulated

Holy cow. I've been in the University Library for over an hour now, and I haven't done shit. I'm already taking a break too. This is crazy...utterly discombobulated. I could sense the fatal effects of severe sinusitis, nasal edema, reactive airway disease, sleep deprivation, and fatigue successfully consuming me.

No, I'm not bitching about premed. I am just sick. Just dead sick. Going to the library with the intent of finishing multiple tasks has, so far, been counterproductive. Zero. Null.

I've just downed a can of red bull and I don't feel any different from that feeling I had while in bed half-awake.

Weird.

Oh well. Part of the sucky but cool life that is mine.

Hitting The Wall

Things have been really rough for me over the course of the week, the details of which I refuse to disclose. Interestingly enough, it ended with a physiological blow. The combined effects of caffeine abuse, sleep deprivation, weather maladjustment, emotional drain (I hate to admit that), and physical wear-out worked synergistically. I was ready to pass out by Thursday night after my Jianshu class. And I did. I was in bed by 8:30. I woke up at 8 this morning. I struggled to attend my biochem class (I'm glad I did- the dork in me felt giddy upon enjoying today's lecture on eicosanoids and membrane biochemistry). Well, that small coffee helped me through an hour of lecture. But after that, everything else was too much to handle.

I waved a white flag after that.

I stopped by the SAS (Student Access to Science) center and left a note for the OrgChem peeps who needed help with their homework- "I CAN'T TUTOR TODAY. I'M SICK. I WILL, HOWEVER, MAKE MYSELF AVAILABLE THIS MONDAY...SO EMAIL ME".

What really was a 15-minute walk to the parking lot seemed like a journey to the center of the earth. I saw my car and it felt like finding an oasis in the middle of the desert. Next thing I knew I was home. I missed my pillow.

4:29 pm...gotta get ready for work. More to do. Gotta fight.

How I Welcomed Another Year of Life

This is how I looked like welcoming my birthday at work... ----------->
note the sarcastic smile and the trauma shears in my hand that I was more than willing to impale unto myself.


How I welcomed myself being twenty-fucking-four years old...

March 6th- Went to class. Destroyed a cupcake. Tutored. Devoured Seafood Tofu Soup, Kimchi, Perch, bean sprouts, and rice. Drank beer, Irish Car Bombs, more beer.

March 7th- Still drinking beer. Decided to go to another bar. Drank. Had to stop before the feeling of expelling gastric contents took over. Ate tamales.Passed out in the dorms. Woke up with a headache. Went home. Got Pho. Slept. Went to work. Got spoiled by ER and X-Ray with food and a birthday cake. Worked.

March 8th- Blogging. Off to sleep. Realized the urgency that comes with my age- do something with my life!

What's Wrong With This?

I was trying to get some stuff from the med room when Jack showed me a box of face masks. He pointed out the illustration on the box...hilarious!

The Metaphor of the Menu

My friend and I was really hungry after 1.5 hrs of being stuck in our Molec Cell Bio lecture. Time was very deceptive. What really was ninety minutes of class time seemed to be an epoch of cognitive torment. It was very horrific that it took a toll on our physiological mechanisms- much more significantly, our hunger.

So we went to grab something to eat. My mind was in a really screwed-up state. Being sleepy, hungry, and saturated with science made me shift from a practical thinker to a philosophical bullshitter. How did I know? I came up with the metaphor of the menu.

Imagine yourself in a packed dining hall. You have to get something to eat. This should satisfy not only your physiological hunger but your satiety as well. So you select a fastfood chain that will cater your craving. You WANTED pizza. Sbarro is packed and a bit far from where I was at. There are other options- Carl's, Taco Bell, and Pollo Loco. Would you just settle for the latter options when you actually want pizza?

I wanted pizza so bad. So I decided to stick with it and go through all that hassle- walking to the weird location away from where all the food stores are at, waiting in line with my stomach growling (borborygmi sounds), ordering in a voice louder than normal since I am too soft-spoken (the server couldn't hear me say "pepperoni"), waiting for your pizza to heat up, and paying a bit above my budget.

But guess what, after all that bullcrap, I was finally enjoying my pizza. Worth it!

Had I settled for a taco, a burger, or a chicken meal, my hunger would have subsided anyway. But I'll tell you this: the pizza slice did that plus a lot more. I wanted pizza, I went for it, and I didn't regret going through the bullshit.

Why am I writing this? Heck I don't know. I just got out of my biochem class right now, equally hungry but broke. Oh well.

Tired

This is the third time I've taken a nap in the student union on my textbooks in the middle of studying...What felt like an hour nap (which made me freak out momentarily upon waking up thinking that I'd be late for my next class) was actually just TEN MINUTES.

Wow. I must be that tired. Right now, I feel like I am gonna get sick (viral?) and I am barely experiencing delayed onset muscle soreness from my monday and wednesday workout and from yesterday's jianshu (chinese swordsmanship) class.

I have another class in half an hour til 2pm...then I'll be tutoring til 4...and I'm working tonight in the ER from 6pm-6am. Good luck with that.

Berkeley

I was walking around Berkeley's campus and I was awestruck. The buildings were awesome and the area is just enticing. It's also fun to know that bums- tons of them- live among Berkeley students. There's a lot of them everywhere. Carlisle recounts how he always walks to class- from the Bart station to his building- and how his OChem class is- about 400 students, huge screens, huge boards, and a single omnipotent lecturer. I've painted my own picture of me at Berkeley. I felt that I belong here. I felt at home.

And it really sucks looking back.

Tracy Ukita, my transfer counselor, and Marco Angulo, one of my revered med student-mentor have always encouraged me to go to UCLA or Berkeley. They knew I'd flourish. They knew I'd be able to more than survive. They knew I'd thrive. With those things in mind, they gave me a homework- visit those schools, get a feel for it, and apply.

I didn't do my homework.

Why? I've always downplayed myself. I thought I'd be crushed by the competition. I assumed I wouldn't get enough financial aid. I assumed I wouldn't like the campuses because they're too far from home. I was afraid. I held myself back. And again, I have successfully dug my own pothole of regret.

And now, I am beating myself up over it. A lot of should have, would have, and could have. A lot of wondering. A lot of daydreaming.

If it's any consolation, this person I hold close to me gave me her take on it. I'm where I'm at for a reason. I just don't know what yet. And I still hold on to that thought amidst the deep regret I feel.

Stanford

At this point in my undergraduate education I've been to a lot of premedical conferences. The ones that I've been to have addressed recurrent themes that have been instilled deep down in my brain already (admissions, MCAT prep, study strategies, research opportunities, etc.) alongside current healthcare issues (minorities in medical school, insurance, underrepresented/underserved communities, etc.). This does not exclude the one that I just got back from- Stanford School of Medicine SUMMA (Stanford University Minority Medical Alliance)- but I consider this latest conference to be the most twisted and unique experience I've had so far.

How unique was it? It wasn't necessarily different because it was Stanford SUMMA. It's my response to the things that happened there that made it stand out.

Background info: My physical state was, as usual, at its worst. The week leading to that conference morning was an equation for imminent disaster: Work friday and saturday nights (jacked-up circadian rhythm)+ in school the following monday to thursday from around 7:45am to 6-7ish at night+ homeworks+ studying + Hooters wednesday+ drunk wednesday night + hung over thursday morning+ class friday til 2+ errands + drive to San Jose via the 405 to the 101 under baaaaaad weather conditions and traffic from 7pm to 2am= chesus crust am I gonna make it through the day?

My buddy Tyson and I sneaked out after registering early in the morning to buy dress shoes (He left his shoes in LA. 6.5 hours driving back to SoCal is not a good idea). The weird part- I didn't feel bad sneaking out and missing out on the really great keynote speech in the morning. I don't know why. Normally I'd be disappointed. To this moment, I thought driving around Palo Alto and waiting at a Burger King in Mountain View 2 hours before Ross opened seemed more exciting than sitting inside the ever-packed and stuffy Packard Hall at Stanford.

By lunch I was a zombie already. We decided to sneak out and walk around campus and get intravenous coffee through a central line- femoral site- at the Tressider Student Union. We walked around the magnificent Memorial Church. I stopped in front of the intricately designed vestibule and just stood there in awe. "I'm gonna get married here at this church...Oh shit. It's almost 2pm- time to get back to the Alway Building for more sessions".

None of the sessions that I went to seemed to strike me. It's like listening to your old recorded lectures. I heard the same things. Not that they weren't useful anymore- I thought it was all mere reinforcement. Which is actually good. I thought I was gonna be like this throughout the entire conference. I hated it. I just wanted to sleep in my car until the raffle at the end of the event. It was a good thing Tyson pulled me to the lecture hall for the closing talks. Another keynote speaker. If not for him, I wouldn't have heard Dr. Ian Tong, MD's story on how an aimless Cal Berkeley freshman with a 1.9 GPA turned into a U of Chicago Pritzker School of Medicine success story. I don't want to disclose details because I am lazy right now. But yeah, that was indeed the best part of the day. I'm glad I stayed for that talk.

Done with Stanford. Time to go visit Carlisle at UC Berkeley.

What was really going on in my mind the entire time besides the keen longing for a shut-eye? I felt like I have infiltrated a brilliant society of future doctors, medical students, and Stanford elites. I felt like an outcast. Do I really have what it takes to compete with all these bastards and get into medical school? And in the event that admissions people make that horrible mistake of sending me an acceptance letter, am I going to make it? I honestly feel like I'm lacking something important. I couldn't figure out what. I don't know if med schools would be comfortable enough to take me, a fraud, into their class.

Shit I don't know. I thought this day was supposed to empower me, or at least to hype me up. Turns out this conference felt like a "put in my place" day.

Beer, Buddies, and a Biology Quiz

It feels great hanging out with friends that you haven't seen in a long time, especially if it involves alcohol. I feel guilty for having indulged when I shouldn't have- I have a molecular cell bio quiz in the morning. But actually, I don't feel that guilty because I took care of business first.

Before Indulging:

School from 7:30am to 5pm. I had class only from 9-10 and from 1-2. What I did in between? I'm not gonna lie: took naps in the student union and the science center, small snacks, physics studying + voluntary homework repeat (self-inflicted torture), biochemistry notes review, and molec cell bio quiz review. Good boy.

During:

I promised myself I'll never drink more than two beers because I was intent on leaving before 8:30 so I could sneak in some study time when I get home.

Thing is, we went to Hooters Burbank. Pretty waitresses, TV screens with various basketball games (I followed the Lakers/Losers game and the UCLA/USC and Duke/Clemson games), lots of things to talk about. These are myriad reasons I forgot my promise. Ended up drinking more than two (I couldn't recall how many) Hefeweizen.

Shit.

After:

Starbucks for a grande coffee (although caffeine doesn't address the tipsy issue, it does alleviate the sleepiness that has been present since I was in school) and about 4 trips to the urinal. I said goodbye to my buddies despite their insistence on getting me to go someplace else. Preferably a strip club. Haha. Nice.

Honestly, I took off right away, realizing the dire consequences that it may yield had I gone with them. I need to study. I need to sleep. I need to get a 100 on the quiz. I need to go to medical school.

9:29- I'm in my car already. Sobering up a bit...a bit.


10:00- Burbank to Cerritos.

10:59- Just finished typing this. Good night everyone. See you in lecture tomorrow.

***new look! same blog!***

Pissed Off

4am. Two more hours at work. Not a good time for me- I was tired, intermittently sleepy, easily scared, jittery from excessive amounts of caffeine, mentally not there (I guess my backup subconscious mechanism takes over when I'm in that state), and impatient.

No new patients. I sat down and tried to read my molec cell bio textbook. The lady in bed 8 caught my attention.

B*tch:"Excuse me sir"
Me:"May I help you?"
B:"What's going on?"
Me:"Excuse me (Huh? That question is really vague. Please approach me in a smarter manner.)"
B:"What's going on, Is my boyfriend gonna get admitted? How long are we gonna stay here? Howblah blah blah blah blah...blah?"
Me:"Let me talk to your nurse. I apologize-he's not my patient"

The nurse directed me to the doctor. Found out that we were waiting for the hospitalist to call back so we'd know if he needs to be admitted or not. I went back to bed 8.

Me:"So we are still waiting for another doctor to call back. We don't know if he needs to be admitted or not."
B:"So the doc is waiting for a second opinion?"
Me:"Uhhh...I don't think its that (You idiot. Our ER doc is not asking for a second opinion about your boyfriend's case- he wants to find out if the hospitalist wants him admitted. Intiendes?). We are just waiting for the other doctor's call to see what he wants to do (You have no clue. I am trying to tell you that the hospitalist will decide- not the ER doc. The ER doc makes the diagnosis and then he decides on a disposition. This is the disposition stage. This requires him to call on the hospitalist to make a disposition. Get it? I figured you won't. So I didn't bother saying all these.). So let's wait a bit more, okay?"
The Douchebag Boyfriend:"WHAT DO YOU KNOW? WHAT ARE YOU HERE?"
Me:"I am just a tech, sir. If you have any further questions about your disease and condition, I'd be more than glad to call your nurse (who doesn't want to talk to you...just like me)."
B and TDBBF:(They stared at me condescendingly)
Me:"Alrighty then (Screw you. And you. Don't talk to me.)".

And as I stepped outside, I heard giggling followed by clusters of words that are indicative of backstabbing and mockery. They were pretty good at it. That moment awake me more than my red bull did.

"OKAY YOU MOTHERF*CKERS! PAYBACK TIIIIIIME! ENJOY THIS (I SPLASHED 5 GALLONS OF PURE METHANOL ON THEIR BED AND I LIT IT WITH MY FLAMETHROWER...I FOLLOWED THE ASSAULT WITH AN M-16 AND I DROPPED AN ATOMIC BOMB)! YOU CAN GO TO HELL!!!"

Okay, that was impossible. This is what really happened:

"Okay. (My head hung low as I walked out and just sat down, pretending to not have heard anything and just buried my head in my textbook... I cried. Just kidding. I didn't give a crap.) Whatever. All in a day's work."

Less than two hours later, I was walking out the hospital double doors with a huge smile. It's time to go home.

Why You Should Not Go To Public Gyms

Ugh. The freaking gym is packed like a marketplace. I waited for about 15 minutes to get to use a treadmill and got stopped automatically 20 minutes into my cardio...dammit...I looked behind and there were a couple people waiting for me to get off the machine. Of course I could have sneaked in another 20 minutes but the overhead announcer didn't help- "ATTENTION CUSTOMERS, THE MACHINES HAVE A 20-MINUTE LIMIT WHEN THERE ARE PEOPLE WAITING".

I got off and tried to hit the free weights. Unsuccessful. Still packed.

Because of this, I only got to use a couple machines. Hence an incomplete workout. Since I haven't really had that much of weights, I decided to survey the basketball court.

Holy cow. A full court game (10 persons) plus about 10 more bystanders and hopefuls stealing some shooting time while the players are not using that half of the court. If I went in, they probably won't let a small asian guy play with them: tree-tall figures and refrigerator-built physiques. Maybe they'll have use for someone as small as a shoebox (me) when they need to pick on someone (i.e., if they can't shoot, they can always block my shots and get vindicated). Or maybe I could be their waterboy.

Whatever. Time to head to my favorite coffee shop (It's A Grind Lakewood!!! Wooot!!!). Of course I didn't want to appear like an unkempt, sweaty bum and smell like my shoe when I head out there to study. This will make the coffee people quite unhappy. So I took a shower, of course.

A full shower room. Dammit. Fuck. Oooh, there's an empty cubicle!

I went in and because it's a shower cubicle, one is supposed to get naked (I dunno how girls' locker rooms are, but this is how it is with male lockers...everywhere). I followed the norm. Nice and warm water. Feels grrrrreat.

HAVE YOU EVER HAD THAT FEELING WHEN YOU THINK SOMEONE IS LOOKING AT YOU AND WHEN YOU LOOK AROUND, YOU REALIZE THAT SOMEONE ACTUALLY IS LOOKING AND YOU MEET THAT PERSON'S EYES?

As I was lathering, I had that weird feeling that I only encounter in places outside a shower cubicle.

Oh my...WHAT THE HELL? This old man-whore was staring at me!!! The awkwardness, surprise, anger, and disgust suddenly made me finish my shower sesh as fast as my sneeze. I managed to dry, dress up, and pack up in less than 5 minutes.

I do hope that he was just waiting for me to finish so he could use the cubicle. Standing right outside and looking at the person using the shower wasn't necessary at all though, don't you all think?

Dream On...

"I stared at my schedule. Hmmm...classes M-F. Then study afterwards. Then I work F and S, 6pm to 6am. Oh wait where do I put in my tutoring hours? Friday afternoon looks okay. Oh so that means I'm gonna be in school M-F before 8am (because parking sucks in the morning) until about 5pm (except Monday, I get off at 2...woohoo!). Dammit. This is pretty packed. I forgot I have to put in sleep time and extra study time. Oh and maybe some time for basketball. Read a non-school book. Or just jog. Holy cow. Whatever, it's okay...gotta go to med school, right?"

While I was thinking about the whole thing, another Reinier, in a cosmos that is just exactly like earth but perhaps a gazillion galaxies away, was saying something similar.

"I stared at my schedule. Oh, I have class only on mondays and wednesdays. Oh and guess what, I'm gonna be in school from 12-5 only. And I just won the lottery, so I'm not gonna work anymore. What should I do with all my free time? I'll probably sleep in everyday, oh but I gotta get an apartment a mile away from school, then walk to class, sleep in class, pay my teachers so I'd get all A's. Oh and after that? I'm gonna study...not. I'll join the eta theta epsilon gamma beta fraternity! I'll drink a lot and get hammered and bang sorority girls. Not just one, but maybe two or three...a night. Oh and I won't tell my girlfriend(s) about it. Then maybe I'll surf. Spend time at Frog's fitness. Workout, get buff, and hit on the hot girls. Did I pack my schedule yet? Hmmm...so M-Su drink, M-Su frat parties, M-Su sleep in, M-Su freetime. And M and W school. Gotta be a combined art history/accounting/marketing major, right?

Then I realized that the whole Reinier thing in another cosmos was just impossible and stupid. So I just looked at my schedule again, sighed, and entered PH2-110. It's Physics time.

Pure Ranting-1

*I page you a thousand times. You call back two hours later to tell me that you don't know the stuff I'm ordering and that you don't have anything to do with hospital equipment and supplies. Your lair in is the fucking basement, in the central supply room, where all the stupid hospital stuff are. And guess what? That 16f catheter I needed is right there. Can't you read labels? You come back after transporting the patients and you just leave the gurney unlocked with the dirty sheets and the portable monitor on it. How fucking hard is it to dump the stupid linen in the cart, put the monitor back on the crash cart plugged, and to step on the goddamn brakes that is conveniently located by your feet? Oh by the way, I am not human resources- you should not tell me how bad the nurses are to you, how low your wage is, and how unsatisfied you are of the ER. Well guess what? You are in the wrong fucking workplace! And stop telling me what to do with my future.

*Stop asking me to cover your shifts. I've always covered you because you had to go somewhere and because you have to do something that concerns your other job. Hey, why not quit your job here (you only work once in a blue moon) and concentrate on the other? I asked you to cover my ONCE- and it was for a pretty damn good reason and I told you TWO FUCKING WEEKS before the shift- you told me a day before that schedule that you can work it a week after I cancelled my conference. Oh, and mind you, I was just one of a handful of people invited to attend that fucking statewide conference. I missed that chance. So fuck off.

*Stop being too nice. You waste a lot of my time. You're no different from the others. I hate you.

*Don't talk to me like you know everything. You are still at the bottom of the totem pole. Don't talk to me in front of the patients like you're teaching me. If I were an asshole I could have humiliated you everytime. So don't patronize me. I OWN YOU.

I'm Upset

I spent close to $450 for my textbooks, readers, and manuals. And I need one more piece of shit manual.

Enough said.

What I Want, I Get

"What I want, I get."

Only two types of people say this. One, those spoiled brats who are used to getting their way. Always. Grew up getting anything they wanted. People catered to their desires no matter what. They get what they want to please themselves.

The other type, which is worth elaborating, are the persons who get what they want because they work their way through it. No one would feed them their desire. It is usually proven in adversity- these persons maneuver and power through whatever labyrinth they're in to get what they desire. They deliver. They get it. True, it may not happen a lot. But the minority of these instances greatly outweigh the majority of failures.

These people fight. These people hold themselves responsible for the consequences of their actions. These people are often in control. They are known to be stubborn. To them, this certain kind of relentlessness is life. Everything else not pursued this way is not worth having. As a by-product, these control freaks are very appreciative and protective of their gains.

But what happens when these people don't get what they want?

Hopelessness and helplessness stand prevalent in their midst. They tend to put themselves in solitary confinement; they tend to dive into a melancholic reflection. They tend to analyze. Sometimes in excess. They think of how things may be different. They often dwell into their own version of reality- the visualization of the "what if" and the "what could have been" had the circumstance sailed in their direction. Yes, they cry. Yes, they fall in despair. Yes, they summon the Supreme Being. And they slowly succumb to defeat...but not entirely.

As they reach the depth of their gloom, they start analyzing again. They look for possibilities. They realize that, while they may have no control over the entire situation, they still have control over some parts of it. And they grab that opportunity. They take advantage of the pieces that fell apart. They use these pieces to rebuild the different "whole" that they never saw in the first place. Although despair, loneliness, and anguish may occasionally visit them, as they have always lurked around, they tend not to prevail again for long.

However weird the circumstance may be, or however taxing the whole thing is, or however big the risk may be...they still go for it. They strongly believe in the adage that tells us "...when you are hardest hit, then you must not quit". They have always believed in their resolve. In their instinct. In their desire. In the future that one day, their wish will cease to be a mere thought. One day...one day...

"I finally got it."

Double Whammy

Sunday, about 1 or 2 am. It wasn't a packed ER. I then grabbed the next chart in line.

"Generalized weakness cough cold congestion for 24 hrs PTA (prior to arrival)"

The guy is pretty young and his vitals were okay. What the hell is he doing here? He's just having flu-like symptoms. Whatever. I took the guy inside, got him a bed. He's gonna be discharged in a few minutes.

"Hey broah, can I get a blanket? I'm cold..." His looks- similar to a tough construction worker cum football linebacker and lumberjack- didn't match his Neil Patrick Harris/ Doogie Howser MD voice. What a pussy. I still got him a blanket.

The same day, about 12 pm. I was in The Queen Mary, having a great time with my family and the food. We went to the Sunday Brunch thingy for my grandparents' golden wedding anniversary.

The food variety was immense and enticing, but I found myself glued to the salad section- I devoured the raw and semi-raw fishes. I feasted on the seared smoked salmon, pickled herring, and ahi tuna with wasabi. It was heavenly! Plus I consumed about 6 (or maybe 7?) glasses of their really nice free-flowing champagne. I was happy!

That night, I developed flu-like symptoms. I had diarrhea too, and I vomited once.

Today- I am glued to my bed and computer. Double whammy. Flu and gastroenteritis. What a way to end my winter break.

Betting On Abdominal Fluid

Bed 12. Eric hasn't assisted in a paracentesis before, so he called me to "teach" him. I told him to gather the following materials: thoracentesis/paracentesis tray, sterile gauze, betadine, sterile gloves, and evacuation bottles (vacuum bottles). I wasn't sure how much fluid we'd be draining this time- I didn't know how many bottles we needed for the procedure (a bottle can contain about a liter of drainage)...so I entered the patient's room.

"kumusta po kayo? (how are you doing?) Can I take a quick peek at your abdomen?"

Our patient, a skinny Filipino gentleman in his 50's, was kind enough to let a lowly emergency room tech observe and palpate his very painful and obviously distended abdomen.

"Okay Eric, maybe 4 bottles."

After setting up everything, we called in Dr. Ho to perform the procedure. After the entire shebang of abdominal poking, we were ready to drain. First bottle down. Then another. Then a third.

This time on the third bottle, the drainage rate got slow and a little bit predictable.

"Hey Reinier, do you have a dollar?" asked Keith, the RN for bed 12. "Eric?"

"Uhuh. Why?"

"I'm betting this will stop at 2.3L total."

Eric bet 2.4.

Me? Well it was a great opportunity to get two bucks. Understanding the great implication of getting $2 tonight, I had to gather my intelligence, experience, power, magic, lust, gut-feel, and hunger. I needed to make a crucial decision- getting two dollars meant a burrito from the vending machine downstairs or maybe a twinkie plus two quarters for gum. The extra bucks will have a profound economic impact on me, as well as a physiological (digestive) one...I was hungry, and I had no money on me!

"Hmm...considering the rate of flow and the consistency of the fluid, I'll go with 2.250." I had to be more accurate. I used Poiseuille's Law and Viscous Fluid Mechanics. The flow rate was reduced. It seemed reasonable that it would not fill at least half the bottle. Plus the urine-looking fluid turned red and more viscous. Drainage would be halted anytime soon-the diameter of the tube would not be able to accomodate the dense, almost pus-like fluid. I can't go wrong with this.

A few seconds later, it was clear...I AM GETTING F*CKING TWO DOLLARS! WOOOOOT!!!

Although I got my prize, I saved the two dollars. Didn't go downstairs to get that heavenly burrito or that magnificent twinkie. I just decided to appease my hunger by eating the free oreos from the social worker, the stolen bagel with cream cheese from the operating room, and ingesting copious amounts of free coffee and soda from our breakroom.

It was a great situation to be in. Getting money and free food. Thank you, physics and physiology lectures!

BOREDOM 101 Lesson2- Induce Sleep

It is 2 in the morning. You are bored as hell. You are still awake. Your alertness is not any different than this morning. How do you make use of this time? The obvious! Sleep! It's very physiologically productive.

After all possible means have been exhausted and you still could not sleep, the best thing you could do is to induce it. You have two options. One- kill yourself, hence in a state of perpetual sleep coupled with nonexistence. Not really great. Or two- PILL it! How?

We are talking of chemical terms here. Take melatonin tablets. Melatonin is a harmless hormone secreted by the pineal gland. The concentration of melatonin in our bodies normally reach its peak during the night, where there is minimal light, and it dwindles down during the day. Increased concentrations of this compound is inversely related to alertness.

My physiology professor, Dr. Rourke, told our class that interestingly melatonin has antioxidant properties but it also decreases reproductive capabilities. This is deducted from comparative physiology- note that when some mammals hibernate, there is a significant increase of melatonin and decreased sexual activity. This parallel should somehow be related to our physiology. After all, we're mammals too.

I think because I frequently work graveyard shifts, my sleep-wake cycle is messed up. Too bad. Maybe it's time to take melatonin. I, however, am not dependent on it.

BOREDOM 101 Lesson1- Learn a Song

After unsuccessful attempts to put myself to sleep, I've found myself in front of my laptop, my camera, and my guitar. I was bored.

To address this annoying issue of unused time, I decided to learn a song (find out the whole thing for myself- no aids, no tabs, no sheet music- just the song.) on my cheap-ass electric guitar. I came across Jinky Vidal (a Filipino pop/rnb artist) on youtube and she sang a nice rendition of Angela Bofill's "Tonight I Give In"...Cheesy? Yes. But screw it, the rhythm simply captured me I had to listen to it multiple times. I love this song!

THIS IS NOT AN IMMACULATE RENDITION OF THE SONG. YOU WILL ENCOUNTER UNPLEASANT SOUNDS AND OFF-NOTES. It's just practice playing, after all.

Welcome to the first of many lectures in my new class, BOREDOM 101. I am your professor. Enjoy.

Can't Go To Sleep

This is killing me
3am and still awake.
Tomorrow, I intend to flee
Things to do. I can't be a flake.
Procrastinated during the break.

Melatonin might help me
Taking it won't kill me.
Eights hours I'll be down.
But wait, 3-11?
I planned a long day, and so I frown.

Whatever. I wanna sleep now.

Needlestick

"Bro, go back to bed 16. I'll cover you here."

"Yesss!" I told myself. I haven't seen a chest tube insertion before and It's time I learned to how to assist in one just so when the rare occasion arises, I'd be ready.

Our patient, a gentleman in his early twenty's, has pleural empyema (accumulation of pus in the pleural cavity). It is important to drain the pus via chest tube drainage. If it doesn't work, then surgical intervention is necessary- a thoracotomy (yes, open the effin thorax!).

The tray was set-up and Melissa was already assisting Dr. X, one of our respected Cardiothoracic Surgeons. Shiet. Now what? I was hoping I'd get to do it this time. I wanted the action! And it seems like I missed 1/3 of the procedure...dammit. The patient has already been anesthetized. At least the surgeon hasn't stuck the tube in yet. Oh well.

Luckily though, I wasn't assisting him. As Dr. X was looking for a smaller scalpel, he buried his hand into the tray, and bam! Lo and behold- the syringe he used for anesthesia-was stuck to his right thumb. He threw the damned syringe. Picked up another instrument and slammed it into the tray. Picked up another. Slammed it into the tray. My face turned pale. The guy was mad. I hope I don't have a scalpel stuck to my forehead.

Melissa shrugged. And the beast in Dr. X. was unleashed. "That wasn't funny. I'm on Chemotherapy!". The crowd went silent. "Order an HIV antibody test!". The nurses scrambled to kiss his ass.

Oh holy snaps. The poor surgeon is recovering from cancer. Hence the absence of his hair. Hence his long absence in the hospital. Hence the absence of his temper control. Wow...

Worse, a 28 and a 32 size tube didn't drain anything. He scheduled an emergency surgery right away. This guy has to work against his physical condition, the pleural empyema that the young man is suffering from, and the uncertainty of this potentially fatal mistake.

I hate being philisophical at work but this is one time where I had to step out to the smoking area and ponder the severity of the circumstance. What's gonna happen to Dr. X? Now that he's immunocompromised, a potential opprtunistic disease is within the horizon. More importantly, I thought of myself. I thought of the risks-including my own life- that comes with this chosen profession. I thought of the challenges that one has to undergo, especially that of foregoing important personal issues to be able to address a stranger's immediate needs. It seemed too much. It seemed too taxing. It seemed very heavy.

I stepped back into the ER. After a brief conversation with myself, I thought...

"It's just a needlestick. It happens...This cannot stop me from keeping my calling. This cannot stop me from saving lives. This cannot stop me from getting my MD".

Nine more hours and it's time to go home.

"The One That got Away": Hmmm...Does This Sound Like Bull?

Ciara, a friend of mine, sent me this. Thought I'd share it to everyone.
Credit goes to whom it is due.

People, feel free to tear this apart. My comments section are open.

My take: a great literary piece. Very catchy and well written. No wonder it became popular. The ideas of the author are clear, concise, and well-developed. A great thing to read in the office or when you're bored.

Oh, and the message? Hmmm...whatever.

The one that got away

In your life, you'll make note of a lot of people.
Ones with whom you
shared something special, ones who will always mean
something. There's the
one you first kissed, the one you first loved, the
one you lost your
virginity to, the one you put on a pedestal, the one
you're with...and the
one that got away.

Who is the one that got away? I guess it's that
person with who everything
was great, everything was perfect, but the timing
was just wrong. There
was no fault in the person, there was no flaw in the
chemistry, but the
cards just didn't fall the right way, I suppose.

I believe in the fact that ending up with someone,
finding a longtime
partner that is, does not lie merely in the other
person. I can actually
argue that an equal part, or maybe even the greater
part, has to do with
the matter of timing. It has to do with you being
ready to settle down and
commit to someone in a way that goes beyond the
little niceties of giddy
romance.

How often have you gone through it without even
realizing it? When you're
not ready to commit in that mature manner, it
doesn't matter who you're
with, it just doesn't work. Small problems become
big; inconsequentials
become dealbreakers simply because you're not ready
and it shows. It's not
that you and the person you're with are no good;
it's just that it's not
yet right, and little things become the flashpoint
of that fact.

Then one day you're ready. You really are. And when
this happens you'll be
ready to settle down with someone. He or she may not
be the most perfect,
they might not be the brightest star of romance to
ever have burned in
your life, but it'll work because you're ready.
It'll work because it's
the right time and you'll make it work. And it'll
make sense, it really
will.

So that day comes when you're finally making sense
of things, and you find
yourself to be a different person. Things are
different, your approach is
different, you finally understand who you are and
what you want, and
you've become ready because the time has truly
arrived. And mind you,
there's no telling when this day will come.
Hopefully you're single but
you could be in a long-term relationship, you could
be married with three
kids, it doesn't matter. All you know is that you've
changed, and for some
reason, the one that got away, is the first person
you think about.

You'll think about them because you'll wonder, "What
if they were here
today?" You'll wonder, "What if we were together
now, with me as I am and
not as I was?" That's what the one that got away is.
The biggest "What
if?" you'll have in your life.

If you're married, you'll just have to accept the
fact that the one that
got away, got away. Believe me, no matter how fairy
tale you think your
marriage is, this can happen to the best of us. But
hopefully you're
mature enough to realize that you're already with
the one you're with and
this is just another test of your commitment, one
which will just
strengthen your marriage when you get past it. Sure,
you'll think about
him/her every so often, but it's alright. It's never
nice to live with a
"might have been," but it happens.

Maybe the one that got away is the one who's already
married. In which
case it's the same thing. You just have to accept
and know that your
memories of that person will probably bring a nice
little smile to your
lips in the future when you're old and gray and
reminiscing.

But if neither of that is the case, then it's
different. What do you do if
it's not yet too late? Simple...find him, find her.
Because the very
existence of a "one that got away" means that you'll
always wonder, what
if you got that one?

Ask him out to coffee, ask her out to a movie, it
doesn't matter if you've
dropped in from out of nowhere. You'd be surprised,
you just might be "the
one that got away" as well for the person who is
your "the one that got
away."

You might drop in from out of nowhere and it won't
make a difference. If
the timing is finally right, it'll all just fall
into place somehow and
you know, I'm thinking, it would be a great feeling,
in the end, to be
able to say to someone, "Hey you, you're the one
that almost got away."

Looking Back- The King-Drew Medical Center Closure

I remembered writing this for one of my classes. This was my take on the chaotic turn of events for King/Drew Medical center. It has been a while since this has happened, but it's worth pondering. Now, what is the aftermath? What did our health authority do about this?

Feel free to refute, verbally abuse, condemn, or commend me.


To Close King-Harbor or Not

After a series of management mishandlings, clinical practice errors, unmet minimum care standards, and a lot of unhappy people, Martin Luther King Jr. - Harbor Hospital had to be shut down for an indefinite period of time.
The Los Angeles Times editorial article on August 15, 2007, a few days before the finalization of the closure, commented on and justified the then-impending closure of the said institution. It seemed that the Los Angeles County Board of Supervisors has failed to use its wealth of resources and extreme capability to save King-Harbor Hospital and the needing communities of South Los Angeles. The people in charge of the ill-fated center demonstrated poor competence in running hospital operations. Clinicians and practitioners have been practicing below good standards of care. This unfortunate chain of incompetence leads down to the patients and the community- the ones who will end up suffering most of the blow.
The persons who possess the power to close the hospital were not even able to exercise this authority totally when it seemed fit. “They instead play games with the very definition of "to close." Half the staff of 1,600 remains on-site, on the job, at outpatient clinics and an urgent care center. Capacity to perform surgery is being expanded”(“Close King-Harbor”). In essence, the said medical center still operates even though it is doing a lot less than it used to- and probably committing the same mistakes on a smaller scale. The county supervisors are now looking for a private purchaser with strong hopes of coming back as a full medical center in less than two years. Technically, King-Harbor is not really closed at all.
Dealing with the internals of the institution, particularly concerning patient care, there have been a lot of accounts pertaining to poor clinical care, medical malpractice, and staff incompetence. “Just walking into the building, inspectors saw that patients were in immediate jeopardy. Further probing showed that staff failed to track records, properly mix medicine and sterilize equipment”.(“Close King-Harbor”). There was also one incident as specified in The Los Angeles Times that during one of the hospital’s major inspections, a patient who at that time were writhing on the floor for almost an hour was just ignored by the nurse. There also have been numerous accounts of misdiagnosis and maltreatment of patients that have occurred in King-Harbor’s “treatment” phase.
On management issues, the said article presented its concerns on the hospital executives being more focused on corporate issues rather than the much-needed medical care the institution have originally stood for. “It is painful to say it, but the truth is that preserving an African American-run institution took precedence over providing competent care. The interests of staff came before the needs of patients.”(“Close King-Harbor”).
The points seem to be convincing and rhetorically powerful. However, in reading the article, one may find that some, if not most, of the arguments point to very particular instances that are existent in other successful medical centers- which doesn’t really back up the argument for justifying the closure of the institution. Concerning the patient lying on the floor for over an hour and the nurse ignoring him/her- did the inspectors know about triage (where patients are seen in order of the nature and urgency of the disease/injury)? Probably the patient was just having abdominal pains without other severe symptoms accompanying it- digestive problems fall on the lower priority on the triage. On medical malpractice and errors, King-Harbor is a teaching hospital. Errors like these are a commonplace in the medical community, and these clinicians are not robotically perfect. There are disciplinary actions for these incidences that are hidden behind curtains to the commoner, such as Surgical Service Reports, Morbidity and Mortality Conferences (M and Ms), and attending physicians putting the erring clinician in the hotspot, constantly testing its knowledge and skills, known in the medical community as “pimping”.
Concerning management issues, the point that “…preserving an African American-run institution took precedence over providing competent care” is really ambiguous. Are they implying that the corporate ladder took precedence over patients or are they implying something else with regard to a particular ethnic background?
Thomas Scully, then-administrator of federal Medicare and Medicaid programs and presently a Washington law firm senior counsel, contradictorily thought about the issue. In the June 15, 2007 issue of the Los Angeles Times, he claimed that closing the medical center is not the answer.
The problems that King-Harbor Hospital was facing were no different than any other inner-city hospital. Economics, being one of the major problems, would be very difficult to run in a medical center serving mostly uninsured and Medi-Cal patients. “The LA system is almost totally funded by the federal government, and, with that support, L.A. has to deal with the hand it has been dealt — and make the most of it.”(Scully) Given the ample financial capability of the government, successful operation of the hospital is really possible. It just seems that the said medical center does not receive the amount of funding it deserves. Scully also pointed out that King-Harbor Hospital should try to pattern itself to various city hospitals in similar-situation places. “There are many different big-city models to look at… Jackson Memorial in Miami and Grady in Atlanta are huge public hospitals in very poor neighborhoods that do a pretty good job of saving lives, and I would feel confident there as a patient. Philadelphia has no public hospitals yet serves at least as tough a population through private hospitals that get public support and provide great care.”(Scully) King Harbor has a lot of “mentor” hospitals in this case then, and it seems fit to have its administration imitate or at least seek help from these thriving systems. The mere fact that if these big urban medical centers- with situations similar to our dying local hospital- can handle the work, then so could King-Harbor too.
Keeping King-Harbor is extremely important since it is, unfortunately, the only best health care access for the urban underserved in the area. Although Saint Francis Medical Center, a level II trauma center, in just in nearby Lynwood, King-Harbor is a public hospital and it thereby caters more to the uninsured and the poor. The medical center is also significant in medical and allied health population, housing the prestigious Drew-UCLA medical program and the Charles Drew University training programs for allied health. Shutting down the hospital means shutting down a great community resource.
“The best thing for patients is to stop looking for blame, apply the best ER Band-Aid available to King-Harbor and get back to fixing the whole L.A. public hospital system.”(Scully) By saying this, Scully made recommendations-channel more of Los Angeles County’s financial resources to the medical center, downsize the Hospital more hence making services more controllable and efficient, and stop pointing fingers.
Analyzing Scully’s perspective on the issue brought an optimistic light to the matter. As empowering and hopeful his arguments seemed, his points, in general, are vague and somewhat introduces red herrings. How could King-Harbor possibly model itself to other big urban underserved hospitals when those mentioned are operated by different leaders with different objectives, located in different environments with possibly an entirely different underserved population, and enjoying financial and community resources different from what we have in Los Angeles? How does him bringing up what he did to Greater Southeast Hospital in Washington help King-Harbor if that very idea has not been tried out in this problem? What did he mean when he said “Given the situation, the best the federal government can do is to poke, prod and push the hospital — and the county — to improve.”(Scully)? His recommendations were not really specific- they would of course apply to similar hospitals with similar conditions. None would cater to the particularities of this chaotic situation that is King-Harbor Hospital.


Understanding and analyzing both sides of the issue helped me shaped my prior convictions into an educated and well thought-of stand. Empathically reading and actively doubting the articles gave way for a deeper analysis of the issue at hand, especially with the intricate particularities in each perspective.
Taking a stand on the matter, as blunt as it may seem, considering the harsh and chaotic situation King-Harbor Hospital is in, it would be reasonable to close it. Completely cease operations. Period.
Defibrillate the chaotic cardiac rhythm in the Los Angeles County Public Health system that is the Martin Luther King Jr.-Harbor Hospital. Why? The institution has humiliatingly failed inspections and supposed “makeovers” over and over again. This just implies that the hospital just did not improve and implementations for renovation were simply ineffective. It became a total waste of resources. The same people trying to make desperate changes are the same ones that have been part of the demise. Same ideas will be surmised, and they are the same nonproductive ones. There has to be some new, better light in the administrative heads hence shedding fresh, effective, and more responsible planning and implementation. Current operations are causing more harm than help to the community. Much needed services are being provided ineffectively and inefficiently. Medical education and patient care in the institution is becoming counterproductive, jeopardizing quality physician and health care professionals’ education and experience and straining community access to public health services.
Closing the hospital does not necessarily mean curtailing the much-needed health access for the local urban underserved population. There are a lot of things to do for this community in dire need of quality health care, and there are myriad ways to deal with the transition period between the closure or King-Harbor and opening a new institution.
A good recommendation would be to start fresh with a new culture, a total rebirth. “It would be ideal to create an independent committee outside the bureaucracy to assess what really went wrong and to oversee the construction of a new policy to minimize medical errors, improve patient care and to restructure the operational system. Hence, a better medical institution” quoting Omar Hernandez, a UC Irvine pre-MD/ pre-MPH student. It would be a really wise move to learn from successful and experienced models and integrate them for a while in the system, just like what the county is planning to do- find a private partner institution and take the new King-Harbor under their wing. Or if it would be feasible, have administrators from other hospitals get together and re-form a new medical institution. Another part of the solution, concerning patient care and clinical standards, would be to hire and get more faculty appointments from accessible top-tier medical schools like The David Geffen School of Medicine at UCLA and The Keck School of Medicine of USC to advance and to further residency training programs as well as push patient care to its optimum.
As for the moment, an urgent care center is just enough to temporarily provide basic family medicine and public health services. The county should also develop a better transport system to channel needing patients to nearby hospitals for more specialized care, and it seems also necessary to increase emergency medical system access to the area- more ambulances, more paramedics, and more stations- in order to provide for prehospital emergency care in a trauma-abundant community. Probably another good community resource would be active student-run clinics from Charles R. Drew University of Medicine and Science, UCLA, USC staffed with enthusiastic soon-to-be doctors and allied health professionals who would be more than happy to provide care for free. It would also be good to have more frequent and more comprehensive health fairs.
Simply put, close King-Harbor. Build one that would be better able to address the needs of the urban underserved community.