Whew.

When it rains, it pours.

That's a good phrase. In the span of one month (actually less):

  1. I took my Step 1 medical licensing exam (and did above the national average, just FYI).
  2. David's maternal grandma passed away from an aortic dissection. It was very sudden and unexpected. It was the day before our wedding.
  3. I got married to the one. The perfect man for me. The person who makes life easier.
  4. I went on my honeymoon to Yosemite.
  5. I began my third year of medical school.
  6. I scrubbed in on an operation for the first time, which was the most difficult of that surgeon's career.
  7. And David's paternal grandma passed away last night. 3 weeks after the other grandma. I said to David for the first time, "She was like a grandma to me." She really was.

In 6 days, I'll be attending my 4th funeral since starting medical school, my 5th ever. And somehow, I'm fine. I'm sad, but good. Life is still good, but different without those people in my life. Life's continuously changing, and change scares me a little. But I need to remind myself how adaptable I am...especially with David in my life. "Home is wherever you are," we say to each other.

As for that operation I scrubbed in for, the patient lost 6.5L of blood. Think three 2L soda bottles. She's a very sweet lady with a bunch of medical problems. And I got a text today on my way home that says she had to return to the operating room for bowel perforation. She'll be fine, but she was ready to get out of the hospital (her first operation was 6 days ago). And I feel guilty. It's illogical guilt. I'm just a medical student who doesn't make the decisions or the incisions. But I feel like I represent something much bigger than myself. I represent the team who is taking care of her, the UC Davis Medical Center, the health system in general. I'm really more scared than anything. I'm scared of facing her after what she's went through, because I represent the ones responsible for the things she went through.

I know I'm sounding very self-centered considering she's been through 2 operations. But this is my blog, and I have to be honest. I care too much about what others think of me. Hopefully, with enough training in this very un-glamorous profession, I'll care less and less.

I will end every blog with this, and I encourage you to end all your days with this:

S.I.T.

What Surprised me today? Getting a letter from Cordell in the mail that read in beautiful calligraphy "Mrs. Jenny Phung-Payne." I was also surprised to receive a text about my patient going back in for an operation. I knew she had an infection and her recovery was slow, but I just don't expect/want to believe that something really bad could happen.

What Inspired me today? I was inspired to write this blog entry today when I was very aware of my solemness over my patient and Grandma Betty.

What Touched me today? When David told me it meant a lot to him that I said she was like a grandma to me. And when David told me his half-brother told him "I love you," for the first time since he can remember. 

I'm on such a natural high right now. I feel soooooooo goooooood. It's like pure happiness is bursting out of me through my smile. It's better than I even imagined.

I don't know what my Step 1 score is yet. But I feel I did well. My confidence in my performance reflects the amount of effort I put into studying.

I didn't feel this good walking out of the MCAT. There are several reasons for that.

1. I know this material better than I knew the MCAT material.
2. I'm already in medical school and my future's a lot more secure.
3. I have been told that I just finished the hardest, most important exam for the rest of my career.

I feel so emotionally light right now. Like...any negative emotion or situation or thought does not matter. They do not compare to these feelings of relief and euphoria. I'm ecstatic.

I wondered, if I feel this good now, how will I feel after I get married? Though it may sound bad, I don't think I will feel this way after the wedding. Step 1 was an Everest. It was a serious responsibility that comes with the privilege of becoming a doctor. It was a measure of my capabilities. It was something to dread. As David said, I conquered my Everest. And thus, I feel on top of the world (pun intended).

Getting married will be totally different. I don't dread it. And it's not an endpoint. My Everest in this situation would be to stay married for the rest of our lives. Maybe when one of us dies, then I can be euphoric about our accomplishment. That should help with the grieving process.

I don't know how I'll exactly feel after getting married. But I know I'll be in disbelief for awhile. I will have a different identity. I'm ready for it. I just don't know what "it" is.

Man, I haven't updated this blog for awhile, whoever is reading this. I haven't had the complete motivation to update even though so much has happened. Maybe I was too exhausted. Well, let's just say I had some herbal inspiration tonight. And if you're a cop reading this, I hope I'm being vague enough so that a judge will believe that I mean tea.

I'm pretty right smack in the middle of my boards studying period. My big, big test is 3 weeks from yesterday. Big, big sigh. I'm just being a head case right now because I don't think it's the test itself that I'm freaked out about, I think it's just how everyone talks about the test in such a freaked out tone. When I recognize I'm freaking out a little bit, it's when I'm comparing myself to my classmates. Partially comparing what they might score and I might score, but also comparing our attitudes about this big, big test.

On a day to day basis during this study period, I have let myself be somewhat lazy most days. I am supposed to be waking up around 8:30 with books open by 9:00. Most days haven't been like that. I am supposed to be studying 1-2 hours after dinner...I study during commercial breaks. Even tonight when there wasn't anything I wanted to watch because Modern Family was a rerun, I let myself talk to one of my best friends Randy for over an hour. Now I love him and it's always worth it to catch up with your friends, but there were many silences in the conversation that should have prompted me to study. But I am pretty studious during the day, and I'm seriously learning this material. But maybe not seriously enough? I've heard of classmates with 12-hour study days. And I bet the real big gunners probably review material before bed. Big, big sigh.

Okay, I'm just going to spin this on it's head. For the ones who are studying 12 hours a day, they are human. That is seriously too mentally demanding and they will more than likely burn out. Oooh, maybe I'm being vindictive. Ughh. Maybe I just need a conversation with myself.

Okay Jenny. Do you feel like you know the material well enough? No. Do you think you will master the material by the time of the test with the same amount of motivation you've been having? Possibly not.

Possibly not. Okay, how important is it to you do your absolute best on this big, big test with all the motivation you have within you? Important.

Alright, Jenny Phung. You are going to have your books open by 9am and you are going to review before bed.

It always helps when I write it down.

Progress! I had a very productive conversation with my mom a couple nights ago.

So I called her to tell her that David got me a ring. I wanted her to know that we're very serious about getting married. (I actually chose the ring and ordered it off a website, because I can't trust someone else to make that decision for me.)

Then she immediately asked, "You got it then?" And she wasn't talking about the ring. She was talking about the pre-nup.

Then she went on to repeat herself about how you never know what the future holds. "You're only 22..." We were talking over each other by this time, so I firmly said:

"Mom, can I say something?"

"Tell mommy what you have to say."

"I'm 24. And I have spent every day with David (practically) for the past 3 years, I know him and he knows me very well." (I didn't know how to say "each other" in Cantonese)

Then I told her that in California, you must be married for 10 years before you have to split everything in half. So if I'm not happy at 9 years, I can get out.

She was content that I did my research to protect myself, "oh, so you looked into it, that's good."

"Mom, I know you're worried about me. I understand that."

Silence. I was choked up, and the silence on the other end of the line meant she was choked up too.

I told her David and I wanted to visit her at the end of February. And this time, timing didn't work in my favor. My maternal grandmother from Canada will be visiting and staying only until mid-February.

When I told David about the unfortunate timing, I realized something for the first time: I only have 1 grandparent left. I never thought of it that way before. Both my grandfathers died before I was born, so when my paternal grandmother passed in 2010, I thought of it as a single loss. I didn't think of it in terms of having only one person from that generation left in my life. Sigh.

Anywho, I think my mom's pretty content with the divorce laws I told her about, but I'm not 100% sure. We'll find out at the end of February.

I have quite the dream to write about. And it'll be a perfect segue into my next important topic: how my mom feels about David and I getting married.

Just like they say in Inception, this dream starts in the middle...

I wake up in Emerson's bed. (yes, my on-again-off-again ex-boyfriend of 6.5 years) We kiss softly for several long seconds. No tongue, just lips gently pressed. Then he puts his lips on the curve between where my neck and shoulder meet and he blows. Like how you would blow on a child's belly to tickle them, I don't know if there's a verb for that. And it feels good. Dangerously good. Next thing I know he's whipped out his penis and is looking for a condom. As he struggles to tear open the Trojan ultra-ribbed condom in the gold package, I say, "I don't know if I want to do this." He tries to change my mind with words and caresses, and I thought about giving in. I thought, "this will make him happy. I owe him this. David doesn't have to know." Then Emerson starts to put on the condom and I snap out of it. I think, "I'm not that person anymore. I don't have to do this. I have to live with myself." So I tell Emerson "no." He gets angry and storms out of the bedroom. I get dressed (couldn't tell you when I got undressed) and it's a struggle to get my pants on. I'm not coordinated in my dreams. As I'm struggling to clothe myself, I hear my mom's voice on the other side of the door. She's giving food to Emerson's mom and telling her how to prepare it. I think, "shit! If she sees me here with my pants off, then she's really not going to like David and me getting married."

And scene.

I was anticipating telling my mom about David and me getting married for weeks. I knew I would see her in December, and decided that's when I would tell her. I was very nervous. She's always been critical of David. Literally almost every time she mentions David, it's about him going to school. Rather, it's about me pushing him to go to school. I had very good reason to be nervous. The worst-case scenario I imagined was her response being, "Not until he goes to school." The worst-case scenario didn't happen. And if I look at it that way, it makes the actual scenario a little easier to bare.

I told her, "I've been thinking..."

"Tell mommy what you've been thinking."

"I've been thinking that I want to marry David this year."

And I gave her the reason that I thought she would understand or agree with the most: he needs health insurance. We can't afford to pay for his work's health insurance.

Her immediate response was: pre-nup. She explained herself: you never know what will happen in the future. It'd be great if you love each other forever, but you really don't know that.

I know where she's coming from. She's the female breadwinner who was married to a cheating, voluntarily unemployed bum. She only owns half the house that she pays for in full. I know, mom, I know you're trying to protect me from repeating your mistakes.

But she doesn't know where I'm coming from. And it's not her fault. She's only met David a handful of times and hasn't spent any significant amount of time with us together. She doesn't know us. She doesn't know that we're the best couple in the world and that literally everyone we know isn't surprised by our wedding announcement. Even my uncle Bak Fu knows us better than my mom does.

So the plan of attack now is for David and me to visit Vegas. Show her what we're all about. 2 days isn't very long, but it'll have to do. Because after the visit or at the end of it, I'm going to tell her we are not getting a pre-nup.

I started the new year off on a good foot in terms of courage and conviction. Though the story I'm about to tell you happened before midnight last night, it was already 1/1/12 somewhere.

David and I spent New Year's Eve with just the 2 of us. Enjoying each other's company as we approached the double whammy that is New Year's day and our 3rd anniversary. During dinner, for some reason, I brought up a story of when we went to Disney World and David saw a man purposely litter. This guy was pushing a child in a stroller with his wife (presumably), and deliberately tossed a plastic cup onto the ground as he continues walking. I brought this up because I said to David that we should speak up the next time we see assholes like that doing something inconsiderate and irresponsible. By not saying anything, assholes will continue inconveniencing others with their ignorance and laziness without ever having to think that they're ignorant and lazy. Just speak up and put that thought in their head - "hey, you did something that makes you look like a small person."

Literally minutes before midnight, I see a white guy with glasses exit his car, drop 2 plastic cups on the curb, and goes on his merry way. I said to him "hey, you dropped your cup." His response was, "yeah I did," and continues to walk away. So he did it on purpose. So he doesn't care about littering or the environment or keeping the world we live in a nice place. But he knows littering is against our society's moral code, or at least against what we teach our children at school. And he might never care, but at least I reminded him that his action was one of a small person.

Less than 15 seconds after he walks away, someone walking behind him picks up his cups for him. I wonder how he felt to return to his car with his trash having been picked up. I wonder if he thought, "ha, I got someone else to pick up my trash for me," or, "I'm an adult and I'm embarrassed that someone cleaned up after me." Either way, I'm proud of myself. I loathe confrontation, but that needs to change if I am to be a doctor. Maybe I accidentally made a new year's resolution?

I mention that he's a white guy with glasses because assumptions and stereotypes are so powerful. When I first saw him, I assumed he was nerdy, and therefore educated. By assuming he was educated, I expected that he would be relatively mature and responsible. I don't know what his nerdiness or education level are, but he surely didn't act mature and responsibly. Anywho, I immediately correlated the assumption I made of him with the stereotype that Asians aren't the ones who are followed around in a store for fear of shoplifting. I must admit I used this stereotype to my advantage in my heyday. And this guy probably uses his appearance to his advantage too.

Last night, I watched a documentary titled “The Bridge.” It was about how the Golden Gate Bridge is a popular place to commit suicide. They showed it at my med school.

I have a very personal connection with the topic, so I knew I had to watch it.

The documentary starts off with the most beautiful shots of the Golden Gate Bridge. And when you think it’s just more footage of tourists walking on the bridge, you see an older gentleman climb over the rail and just jump. He didn’t even hesitate. The camera tries to follow him as he hits the water.

The documentary shows several of these jumps. And for each one, it’s as if the camera is purposely recording that person. I don’t know if it’s coincidence or if it’s someone’s job to record the bridge all the time. Either way, there’s something very odd and sad about video recording a person’s last moment alive.

One of the most powerful stories from the documentary was the story of someone who survived a jump. He said the moment he let go of the ledge, he regretted it and wanted to live. And I can’t help but think about my aunt, if she regretted it in her last moments. Or she might have felt relief. I’ll never know.

After that man who survived the jump fell into the water, he was kept afloat by a seal circling under him. And he said in his interview, “You can’t tell me that wasn’t God.” I don’t believe in “God” in the organized religion sense of the word. But I believe this man’s statement. I would call it “the universe.”

“The universe tends to unfold as it should.” Words that have shaped my life. Words from Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle believe it or not.

I donated blood for the first time this week. And I had heard that the sensation of bleeding to death is emulated when donating blood. So when I was lying there and seeing that bag fill up with my blood, I felt very emotional. I was lying on my back as I imagine my aunt was also, wondering if maybe she didn’t feel much pain. Maybe she just went to sleep.

Wow. What a day. One of the proudest days of my life next to my White Coat Ceremony.

Today was the Body Donor Memorial Service. The culmination of 8 months of planning interspersed with stress and worry. Now that it's done and even during the event, the stress seems so petty. But it affected me at the time. I don't get stressed in terms of academics, but when it comes to extracurriculars where I have responsibilities to other people - I get gray hairs. And for this event, we're talking about 500 people I had to please and 140 body donors I had to honor. This is an extremely important event.

And it went great. Nearly perfectly. And way beyond my expectations. I was on top of everything today - running around, tending to what needed to be tended to. But at the same time, I feel like the event just happened. It still doesn't fit together in my mind that my hard work (with the invaluable help of others) created the wonderful event that everyone is praising and thanking me for. But I know - I know it was my leadership that made today possible and everything happened the way it was supposed to happen. And I'm so high on life right now.

Besides everything running very smoothly, the event was also beyond my expectations because of all the people who approached me afterwards.

- I hugged a man I've never met before when he told me he was a future body donor, and his wife who had Alzheimer's was a body donor last year. He was attending his "living funeral." The healthiest 94 year-old I've ever seen.

- A veteran thanked me for including the military honors (not my idea), and I got to thank him for his service. The military honors was such a great addition to the memorial service, I don't know how this was the first memorial service to have it. My good friend Melissa teared up because her grandpa had military honors at his funeral.

- The PR guy for UCDMC, who I've been in touch with since February, brought his girlfriend to meet me. Her father donated his body...this past September 11th.

- There was a hauntingly beautiful display of an old nurse uniform with a wool cape and the old-school nurse hats. And next to it was an old black-and-white picture of a nurse wearing that exact hat. I got to meet her family and her teenage granddaughters told me they loved the event.

There were several other family members and so many classmates and staff from the Body Donation Program that said thank you and good job to me. It's hard to think of another time in my life where I accomplished something this great.

Funny to think that I was filled with such self-doubt and that I accidentally fell into this leadership position. Oh universe, you tend to be so good to me.

I will leave you now with kind words from my classmates.

Hey Jenny.

I just wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed the service this morning. I wasn't able to attend the one last year, and was so impressed with how polished it was. I know it meant a lot to both the med students and families of those who donated. Thanks for doing such a great job putting everything together.

-Eric


What an amazing memorial service for our incredible body donors. It was a beautiful way to honor these generous individuals. Thanks to all the organizers and performers, with a special shout out to Jenny Phung for all your hard work. (Erin's facebook status)



Hi Jenny,

Just wanted to thank you for the hard work you put in for the Memorial Service this morning. I can imagine that was quite time consuming and I really appreciate it. I'm also very impressed how supportive your boyfriend was of you. You guys make a great couple.

Best,
Hasmik


Of course I had to end with that one. lol

I wrote the following e-mail to one of my mentors:

"The second thing I wanted to just tell you about is an incident involving a white classmate. This classmate is involved in RAP sessions (Real Answers from Peers), which is a panel of MS2's giving advice to MS1's about studying; this is for all MS1's. LMSA and SNMA* are holding their own RAP session for the MS1's who are interested in LMSA and SNMA. And this white classmate said, "I don't like segregated privilege." I haven't said anything to him and don't know if I will. His comment brings me back to our summer institute. And now I have this internal conflict about saying something or not, and disappointment in myself for fearing confrontation. =T"

*LMSA is Latino Medical Student Association and SNMA is Student National Medical Association, which is focused on the needs and concerns of medical students of color.

And this was her response:

"Finally, I get it about the dilemma about what to say. What do you think he meant? That it's a privilege to be only one of a few whatevers....women, LGBTQ, African Americans, Latinos, children of immigrants, etc. and these groups need to get out of the "majority' group's session whatever support they can, but not have the opportunity to receive from their own gathering things that might be distinct for that particular dimension of identity that is salient to them? Does that mean there should be no AMWA, no AMSA, because there is an AMA? Does he mean that he is not allowed to come to the Latino or African American presentations?

I can't tell you what to say and if to say it. I feel the weight of your calculus, as I have had that decision to make so many times.

What is it you fear in saying something to him? Is that thing worth it to you to not say anything?

Will it be useful to say something, or will it make it worse? Will it be worse only for a time, but worth it in the long run?

Will this person receive the feedback, or is he just toxic?

Is there a way to voice for these impressionable students and classmates that YOU believe there is a place for groups where people feel comfortable, that recognizes that some issues may be distinct to some identity dimensions?

For you personally, Jenny, with your work and whatever emotional load in your life you are carrying, is it worth remediating someone else and the energy that takes? I'll tell you, I should have energy to have conversations with strangers and acquaintances about "the Help" book and movie, but I can't right now.....I just don't have the energy to monitor my responses and what that person needs from me to have it be a constructive situation.

Is this someone you have a special "in" with that someone else might not, and thus he won't receive feedback in a constructive way unless you are the one to give it to him. Is he a friend?

Is he hostile about the topic, in which case, someone has to counter him and not let his daggers go un-neutralized. Someone has to be gangsta about it, just as he was so aggressive and forward...

Is he someone you can take aside and talk to in private, so that it isn't confrontational, and it isn't received confrontationally because you embarrassed him in public.

Lots of questions, Jenny. The answer is "It depends," but yes, you do have a special responsibility, given what you know, and that you are in a relatively privileged class of folks (the unfairl social construction of Asian American) who roll within the academic medical center (more so than say, LGBTQ folks, Latinos or African Americans). It would be a constructive, impactful surprise, coming from you.

As always, Jenny, so many of these things depend on timing. I have missed so many opportunities I thought I should have taken advantage of, given my relative privilege, or propensity or knowledge without privilege, within that context. Sometimes the best thing you can do is think through what you might have said or will say if the opportunity comes up again. Your heart will listen for him and anticipate his comments in similarly charged situations, believe me. Even a question like, "Can you explain more about what you mean when you say that?" is powerful. It takes the silencing power away from an act like his that's meant to silence, intimidate, or even notify others that he is struggling, perhaps seriously albeit sarcastically, with something.

Unfortunately, only you can answer these questions. Make a decision, develop a plan based on that situation, then let it go. There will be a million other times in your life, and this may be one of very few opportunities you were attuned to this dilemma and your sense of responsibility in it, yes? It is terribly important that you answer them for yourself before you are the senior resident, or Attending, or senior medical student....Remember, think developmentally, not just like you only have one chance to make a difference and this was it.

I hope this helps. It's a great question. Please feel free to call if you want to talk more. I support you and am proud of you either way. It means alot that this is on your radar."

A lot to think about. Man, I already think too much.

Ever since I started my Psychiatry class, I've thought a lot of people in my life have aspects of psychiatric illness - myself included. And today, I thought my dad was psychotic. I still do.

Today around noon, I saw 2 missed calls, a voicemail, and a text message. I've received bad news several times this past year through my cell phone, so my thoughts immediately become negative when I see my cell phone blasted like that. I'm usually wrong, but today I wasn't. I see the missed calls are from my dad and sister. The text message was from my sister asking me if I've gotten a "weird" call from dad. So now I dread listening to the voicemail. It was in Cantonese, allow me to translate for you:

"Jenny Phung? It's daddy, today is August 1st [sic] 11:33am. If your dad dies, it'll be at ______ Benito Ave by murder. Do you understand? It'll be by murder, okay?. Don't delete the message, don't delete it. Okay, bye. That's it. Your dad is now (don't know what this means). Bye, bye. I love you, honey. Bye-bye."

Ok, it sounds weird in English that he greeted me with, "Jenny Phung?" But it works in Cantonese, so that part shouldn't weird you out. Of course the rest of it should. When I called him back, I asked him where he was. He was still at that address, that's how he described his location. He didn't want to say "Wendy's house." Wendy's a whore that houses my bum of a father in San Gabriel. I asked him why he doesn't leave if he's going to get killed there. He said he's too drunk to drive (yes, it's noon). I asked him who is going to kill him, and I think he said the "woman's boyfriend." Blah. He told me not to worry about it and study hard.

I didn't think much about it until a couple hours later when I was walking alone for 20 minutes. I felt this very intense emotion that's difficult to describe. The emotion felt visceral, like I had the urge to cry. I kind of fought the idea of crying, because I don't cry for him. I don't think of or feel much for him. But since I couldn't figure out what this feeling was, I finally let myself cry...but I couldn't. No tears came (which says a lot because I produce tears easier than anyone I know). But that urge was still there, that urge to release something inside me, to release that feeling inside me. The closest thing that brought relief was singing with deep breaths. Eventually the singing distracted me from the emotion, and my head was cleared.

If I had to choose vocabulary, I think what I felt was anxiety. Anxiety over my dad's very odd situation, and anxiety about feeling compassion for him. It really throws me off that he said "I love you, honey." It's so fucking weird to me and it really freaks me out. Not just that he said it, but my emotional response to it. So what's very interesting about the anxiety I was feeling was that associated urge for release. That urge for release transformed into an urge for action. It seriously pumped me up. I was walking to the gym, and I got so pumped to run and work out. I also got so pumped to tackle my stressors (aka planning the Body Donor Memorial Service), to just fucking deal with it because I have to face it some time. I've calmed down now, but I have to remember that ferocity I felt. I gotta do this shit!

Anywho, with the craziness of today, I had to call my mom just for the hell of it. I didn't necessarily want to tell her what happened because it could be really stressful. But she actually brought it up. Long story short, my dad's becoming a crazier drunk than he already was and was being belligerent towards Wendy. She wanted to kick him out; he wouldn't leave, and threatened that if anything happened to him, he'd tell his wife and daughters where he is. So that's what that voicemail was about. Basically a threat to Wendy and a desperate plea for help and attention from us. If the situation were more serious and my dad really was in danger, we talk so infrequently that it would be months before I tried to contact him (not counting that I would find out from other family members).

Wendy has 2 relatively young sons that my dad also lives with. Man, their lives must suck. They're getting a worse father-figure than we had.