The Court Jester

So, I have decided that I hate lawyers. I’ll admit it, I’m a rabid anti-lawite. Now before any pro lawyer type goes ballistic and sues me, let me say that my sister is a lawyer. Also, may I submit a recent experience for your consideration (lawyer talk for Here’s a little story).

I got drug (as a witness) into a lawsuit filed by a former coworker (from 5 years ago). He supposed that I had some incriminating information about my former employer (which I did not). His lawyers really wanted to depose me, so I was extended an invitation (a.k.a. subpoena) to meet with them as well as the defense counsel. In order to confirm my address for the subpoena, someone concocted an elaborate scheme to trick me into thinking that I was giving my address to a potential client. When I tried to call the individual back based on the phone number on my caller ID, I was connected to this former coworkers’ cell phone. Hmmm, already fishy.

I was eventually deposed and videotaped. I had hoped that that was all. But no, I then got subpoenaed by both sides to testify at trial. A couple of days before the trial, I called to confirm the time to be there and they told me that it had been continued until a later date. Apparently they had no intention of letting me know that. Nice communication!

A few months later I get another 2 subpoenas, one from each side. I called the prosecution to try to find out when I will be testifying. As it turns out, THEY DON’T WANT ME! But the defense still did. That’s irony. The people that took the time to hunt me down decide that they would rather not have my information but their opponents would. It took 4 phone calls to the defense to find out when I would be testifying. It was finally set. Wouldn’t you know it, right in the middle of Finals at school! Of course, my schedule and convenience don’t really matter when there’s cash on the line. I had to get special permission to miss my final anatomy lab (we are required to be at all sessions). I was to be at trial at 1:30 PM on Tuesday.

Then on Monday at 3:30, I got a call from the defense. They now needed me there at 9:30 in the morning. They were anticipating finishing early and didn’t want to have to wait until the afternoon for my testimony. Great, now I have to quickly rearrange my morning to accommodate them. Plus, my wife and I were planning on attending a temple session since the trial was about 5 miles from the temple. That was not going to happen now, too.

So, I get up and drive the 1 hour 30 minutes in rush hour to the courthouse. I was prompt at 9:30. Wouldn’t you know it… I waited until 12:00 before ANYONE gave me an update on when I would testify. “After the lunch break at 1:15 sharp”, they told me. So I went to lunch, fairly put out. I got back at 1:10 and waited around until 1:35 to testify. I was asked a total of 12 questions (including my name and occupation) that lasted 7 minutes!!! The answers that I gave were confirmation of facts they already knew. Then they dismissed me.

I understand that I am not paying their bills, but come on. A little common courtesy would do wonders for their already less-than-pristine image. If this whole experience never happens again, it’ll still be too soon!

Double Your Pleasure Double Your Fun

Sorry about the duplicate posts that were there. I email in my posts and there was a delay sending or receiving them. I sent one off and it never arrived, so I resent it. I even sent a test email, but nothing. So I manually posted it. Then a few days later, bada boom bada bing, duplicate posts. I think that they are all cleaned up now.

Please forgive me.

Return of the Prodigal Son

When I was getting ready to start school, I didn’t realize the extent of the sacrifices I’d be called upon to make. Before school began, we gave up our…gulp...Costco membership. It was hard to do, but we figured that we could go with someone else if we needed to get something. Well, six months later, I returned to Costco, this time, under the wing (membership card) of my father. Costco had a massage table that I wanted to get to do OMM (osteopathic manipulative medicine) on. One of the differences between an MD and a DO is that a DO is trained to correct skeletal and muscular dysfunctions in order to return the body to its natural state. Structure and function are so closely related, it only makes sense that if your framework is dysfunctional, other things must compensate or suffer along with it. We don’t only treat the spine (common misconception equating us with Chiropractors). We deal with all musculoskeletal issues. If you ask me, it is just another tool that I have to help improve the quality of peoples’ lives.

Anyways, I went to Costco to buy my table. This is it here. When I got it home, my kids were begging me to open it and give them a “massage”. They see me working on my wife and her family and now want their turn. It has been a couple of days and I still have not been able to give them their “massage”. They are funny. They are so supportive and excited for me. Emma (my 5 year old daughter), now says that she wants to be a doctor. It is hard for me to be away as much as I am. Even if I am home, I’m studying and not playing. There will be successive days in which I do not see them because I leave before they are up and get home after they are in bed. One day, Emma asked me if, “I was coming home today?” It just about broke my heart. That was in the midst of my crazy exam week a while back. Luckily, I was going to be home earlier that night. In fact, it was the morning of my Anatomy exam and I came home about 2:30 that afternoon. I played with the kids all that day and we even went out to dinner that night. I think I read Harry Potter to them for about an hour. It was a nice afternoon. I don’t get too many of those these days. Even though I am very driven and passionate about what I am doing, I am more passionate about my family. It is a difficult balance, but I try hard to make it work. I am sure that my grades suffer a little, but in the end what is really more important? They are sacrificing so much for me; it is only fair that I can sacrifice a little for them, too.

I had a splitting headache

Today may have been the goriest day yet in Anatomy lab. Yesterday (my preceptor day) the lab group studied the pharynx and throat structures. As you can imagine, those are difficult to see (from the outside). In order to make them visible, they bisected (cut) the posterior (rear) muscles of the neck and lifted the head forward off of the spine (the anterior muscles were still attached). Basically imagine looking down with your chin on your chest, and your head popping off and continuing to roll forward until your eyes and nose were flat on your chest. But that sure opened up the area.

Well, I went to lab today and my tablemates reviewed the structures identified yesterday. Not too bad. Then we got going on today’s dissection. We were studying the nasal cavity and related structures (sinuses, etc.). Of course, you can’t see all the way up and back through the nostril so obviously you have to split the head into the right and left halves. I mean, what else could you do? And just who do you think the hacksaw (yes, hacksaw) was handed to? Yours truly. Not that I really minded though. Sparing you the grossest details, suffice it to say that it sounds just like you’d expect it to.

After I got the head split, we commenced to clean out the nasal septum and some extraneous structures. My group and I spent a long time cleaning and were very meticulous. We exposed all of the nerves and arteries and stuff that we needed to see when a professor came up to look at our work. His eyes got big he smiled. He said that, "he’d never seen that successfully dissected out intact before." He was talking about a tiny nervous ball (ganglion, cool word huh) hanging from a delicate nerve. He called the other professors over to show them. We tried to look nonchalant about it, but we were really beaming inside. Then he got on the microphone and told the entire lab to come over to our table and see our dissection. We took grief after class for that, but I think that my classmates were genuinely impressed. As much as I enjoy anatomy lab (and I seem to be quite good at the dissections), I do hope that I am able to get into surgery.

I also got my scores for the last exam of the horrible last week. I got another "B". I apparently took the 6 B’s talk a little too seriously. I feel OK about it though since my score was the average grade. I seem to be scoring within 1-2 % above or below average in all of my classes. In undergrad I would have been disappointed, but this is a little different. It makes me optimistic for graduating and passing all of my boards, but I hope it is enough to get into a good residency.

Amanda Hugnkiss

My terribly difficult Anatomy exam that I took last Thursday was just that. Terrible! Or at least that’s what I expected as I walked out of the test. We got our scores back today. When scores are delivered, they put them into our mailboxes at school. It was like an Alaskan river during salmon spawning in the mailroom. There must have been 50 people in my class in there. The smell of apprehension was thick. I could actually hear pulses as I walked into the room. Apparently, everyone else felt as I did about our prospective scores of such a difficult exam. As I worked my way to my box, I passed many telling countenances, some smiling, some not. As I sidled up to my mailbox, I could see it inside, all pink and ominous (our anatomy practicals are done on pink answer sheets). For the moment, it was just me and that mailbox. I could feel my palms sweating; my heart racing. “Whoa there big fella”, I said. There’s still another exam to make up the points. As I reached down for my key, I had an uneasy feeling, like waiting for the warden to throw the switch. I slowly slid the key in, turned, and opened the door. Had it come to this? Was I really afraid of a pink paper? And as I felt my last ounce of courage begin to flee, I saw it; a “B”.

What happened next cannot be explained. I grabbed the guy next to me (good thing it was a guy and a straight one at that) and hugged him. He simply smiled and said, “Good news?” I closed my box and began to leave the room, a smiling salmon with my pink “B”.