Echoes with the sound of salesmen

Ahh, this is the life. Sipping on naturally-flavored electrolyte-balancing water from H-E-B (not pronounced "heeb"), cooking my thighs with wi-fi internet radiation going to my laptop, watching our schedules take rocky-but-steadily-increasing shape, and strategizing about how to prevent Type A salesdouchebags from attempting to command control of your time and attention.

My first thought when he called us was, is this guy for real? After all, he point-blank practically ordered me, "I'm going to need at least an hour and a half." Says who? What nerve! My gift is that I can think of the perfect comebacks but my curse is that I can never think of them at the time - only after the fact.

I expected more from the Neuroscience lab, I really did. People whose opinions and judgment I trusted and respected had spoken highly of them. I was taken aback and disappointed when this ramrod of an attitude came waltzing in. I said I wanted to talk, not get steamrolled over. I even helped the guy out by attempting to save us both the time by saying I was interested in Item B more than Item A, but he steered the subject right back around to Item A. Turned me right off.

We kicked him out after an hour, feigning that we had somewhere to be. I literally had to stop him in mid-sentence. (And it didn't come as a surprise; I gave everyone a heads-up about 15 minutes out.) And then he had Jay follow him down, out to his car, where he proceeded to take up yet 10 more minutes of our time. I mean, what if we had patients? An hour means an hour. Taking up yet more of my time isn't going to win you any brownie points. If we really had somewhere to be, my mind is sooo not going to be on the product, and he's not going to close any additional sales. Let us go. (And then he's mentioning phrases like, "we're going to have to pick this back up next time". Ha! Now we're not just commandeering, we're also presumptuous. How charming.

Listen up, salespeople. I don't care what product you're selling or what industry you're in; if you're in sales of any kind, this applies to you. I'm going to teach you how to sell to your toughest customers. You're even going to get it firsthand, because I am that type of customer. And you're even going to get it for free. See how nice I am?

I'm going to let you in on a little secret: your tactics don't work on us. We see everything. We see you for what you are. Don't try to fool us; we'll know, and you'll only look that much more stupid. We see your product or service for what it is. Don't try to hype it, because fluffy words and impressive stats are completely lost on us. We've got our eyes on the prize. It is what it is, and we see it for what it is. Nothing more. We don't see it for what you want us to see; we evaluate what you're selling for itself. It must stand on its own. In other words, you must really deliver the goods, sans bullshit. We see every tactic you use, and we also see through them, so you might as well check all of the 1950s cornball hard-core high-pressure crap at the door, because you're going to waste your time and energy, and you're only going to end up frustrated and defeated. We are impervious. Don't think we're not on to you, and don't think you have one up on us, because you don't. It doesn't matter how wet-behind-the-ears we are, how nice we act, how young we look, etc. We're polite and inexperienced, but we know a snake when we smell it. We're at least as smart as you are. Chances are, we're smarter.

So what's a salesperson to do? By now you're probably wondering if we've ever bought anything in our lives. Sure we have. Probably too much. Here's another dirty little secret: it's not about you, or your product, or your service, or how cool you think it is, or how much research you claim it has, or that you think you're better than your competition. Let me repeat: it's not about you. It's not about your sales, your quotas, your anything. You're trying to sell to me, remember? You're taking up my time to try to convince me to give you my business. What that means is, it's really about me and my own needs. You are only going to be as successful at selling to me as you are about meeting my needs, with a quality product or service, and at a fair price, with no bull, and treating me with respect every step of the way. It's the 21st century; priorities are changing and the economy is tight. People are spending their time and money a lot more wisely now, and some bad apples are about to get weeded out.

So first, you're going to respectfully request about 15-30 minutes of my time. I'll grant it if I think I might have a use for your products/services. You arrive on time. You spend most of your time getting to know what my business is all about, because you already know your product, but you don't know mine and after all, you have to make your products fit with my needs, remember? With that in mind, you're going to concisely review only the most principal of your literature, making sure to cover only the parts of which pertain to my needs and being sure to emphasize how you can meet my needs, and you'll leave said literature and samples and whatever else you brought, at my office. Then you're going to watch the time yourself and wrap things up at the end of the time I've granted you, you'll leave your contact info, and you'll graciously leave, letting me make the call. Chances are, by the time you're done, I will have already made up my mind to use your products/services, given that they are quality and fairly-priced.

Turn-offs...
* Disrespect for time.
* Ordering me versus requesting from me.
* Giving me the runaround, hiding information.
* Using empty words, or bragging about your products or services without backing it up.
* Nickel-and-diming.
* Hiding pricing or being coy about it.
* Playing dumb or pretending to forget something, such as an agreed-upon price or an option we decide we do or do not want.
* Wanting me to sign up right away without giving me a chance to think about it.
* Telling me that a certain offer is only good if I sign up right now.
* Constantly changing numbers on me.
* Trying to distract me.
* Moving too quickly.
* Sidestepping my questions.
* Wanting me to fax a check or give you my checking account info or wanting to take my credit card over the phone, especially if you've raised some red flags by violating one or more of the above.
* "Just one more thing"
* Dissing your competition, especially if you can't come up with any good reason why or any specifics.
* Making us wrangle desired information out of you.
* Pushing us into options, products, or services we don't want.
* And many more.

There ya have it. Sell a good product at a fair price, treat us with respect, be helpful, mesh what you've got with our needs, take time to find out about us instead of just trying to ram your product/service down our throats, be up-front and straight-forward, be accessible, and avoid the crap in bullets and you'll get not only plenty of business from us, but plenty of good press from us too. And at the end of the day, we'll be kicking back, drinking HEB electrolyte water, with a laptop on the couch, raving about you instead of your competitors.

For DCs (& others): Musica para la oficina

OK, so I need to smile. I'm really a much happier person in real life, even if you don't believe me. So that last post was a bit of a downer. Here, let me make it up to you.

I painfully realized just how desperately we needed office music when a new patient came in to fill out paperwork. It was awkward, only because the silence was deafening, a void I felt I had to force strained conversation to fill.

An appropriate soundscape can exponentially add ambiance and character to your atmosphere. Some ask me what an office playlist should consist of, and the cop-out (but true) answer is that it's going to be different for each office. As our office is "very San Antonio", we decided to play music true to us, and to SA itself. I've listed some here, to give y'all some ideas.

Artist: Govi
No, you're not imagining things; Govi topped our list of good massage therapy mood music from yesteryear, too. His style is an acoustic, instrumental new flamenco, serving as the perfect intro for Whitebreads who haven't heard of flamenco before. Govi does for flamenco what Garth Brooks did for country music; he introduced a whole new population segment to a genre that has been around a while and has a whole lot more to offer where the segue artist came from. You're just as likely to find Govi among New Age collections. I was introduced to Govi's music by a lady massage client a few years older than I, whose husband was a DJ of sorts and she had several of his CDs. Rock on.

Artist: Amir
So what if AllMusic doesn't have anything on this guy? We've got tons of his music on our playlist. He's also flamenco, and I believe his music is all instrumental as well.

Artist: Ottmar Liebert
Also new flamenco, I was introduced to him by a longtime massage client for whom I did housecalls. Always the open-minded kinda guy, he's into various cultures and he had a CD-R someone burned him that was half this guy and half Arabian pop music. How cool is that. I immediately took to Ottmar, with his precise fingerpicking and occasional soft, congruent vocals.

Artist: Benise
Among the newest kids on the block, Benise is also under the new flamenco style. Very cool! I sorta discovered them on my own when I stumbled across several new flamenco compilations in my quest for artists like Govi or Ottmar Liebert.

Artist: Gipsy Kings
These Latin American legends are near and dear to my own heart. I sort of grew up with them, as my best friend is half Peruvian, her father being a first-generation immigrant (as an adult) to the US a couple decades before she was born. In high school, she had GK records and we played them on weekends.

Artist: Julieta Venegas
A much-beloved Mexicana from Tijuana, she's a present-day pop star, even getting airplay on US stations that play pop music sung in Spanish (which at times sounds remarkably similar to our own music, save for the language, but never identical; there is still always something different between domestic and imported music, although I can hardly ever pin it down). Julieta is hip enough for the younger generation, and light ("lite") enough for the older generation. Singable and crafty, she knows how to write songs.

Artist: Incendio
Probably our newest flamenco discovery, Incendio certainly has some of the most variety of any flamenco artist we've ever come across. Same as above, the instrumental is beautiful and the vocals are scarce. Perfect for an office.

Artist: Armik
Also a flamenco artist with plenty of variety, we've known about this one for a while, but have only recently really come to appreciate him fully.

Artist: Waldeck
A nouveau-nostalgic jazzy lounge act with contemporary arrangements and a realistic 1910's grammophone crackle, Waldeck showcases an incredible variety of style, really showing all that this genre is capable of.

Artist: Strunz & Farah
Also some kick-butt newcomers (to us) in new flamenco, these guys incorporate a bit more gypsy element into their music. It's a real nice fusion.

Artist: Zero 7
Perhaps the most unique contemporary lounge/downtempo chillout act, no two songs are alike; in fact, sometimes it's tough to tell two anonymous Zero 7 songs compared back and forth that they are indeed both Zero 7.

We decided against Shakira and a few other otherwise-decent artists because she's otherwise kind of racy, and I didn't want to risk her cussing or talking about something sexy or risque in Spanish, me not realizing it, but a client who knows Spanish realizing it, and an awkward moment taking place that I didn't even know about.

So there ya have it. A kickbutt office soundtrack everyone can agree on. Fun for the whole family.

The benefit of the doubt and other mistakes

There is a reason that I trust absolutely no one 100% of the time. People never cease to amaze me, whether in good, bad, or bizarre ways (usually not the first one). It does not matter if this person is a blood family member, a best friend, or even a life partner; there is no protected class. Oh sure, my trust level with my closest posse might reach 90-95% or more. But it never, ever gets to 100. That's the ugly truth. The truth hurts. And believe it or not, it hurts me probably more than it hurts them. (Of course, I don't run around dispensing daily reminders of this sad little fact; I just let it lie dormant like an elephant in the room under the influence of a veterinary-scale thorazine shot.)

Without giving too much away (it was actually a semi-famous case after all), it all started when I was young, and my family inherited a business. An expert professional came as sort of an implied package deal with this business. This individual was charismatic, hilarious, and very sweet. This person always had a story to tell or a trinket gift for us kids. This person was a family friend and was loved by all; we kids thought of this person as an extension of our family.

Suddenly, when I was 15, deep in the winter of my uber-tumultuous 9th grade year, this person was suddenly Not OK. The details were sketchy then and my memory 17 years after the fact is sketchier now, but I do remember going with my mother to this person's office. The person wasn't there and it was kind of understood that their cover had been blown and they had been revealed for the embezzling scum that they were. We made several trips to said office, collecting bookcases, conference chairs and tables, and other miscellaneous office furniture. We never saw that person again. Never had a chance to say goodbye or to tell them off or give them a piece of our minds or question "how could you?" or "what were you thinking?" My parents lost a lot of money, and we also lost a friend--or at least, the illusion of one. And skeleton after skeleton emerged from the closet.

Ever since then, I've been stripped of any woolen blindfold. When I meet someone, I might have cheerful mischeivous eyes (my Facebook picture says it all) and a genuine handshake, but inside, I'm standing on-guard. I truly am all of those things - cheerful, mischeivous, and genuine; I want nothing more than a budding lifelong friendship. But I'm also waiting for you to try to fuck me over.

If you never take that chance, you never get burned. I've never lost friendships over unpaid debts because I don't loan money. When someone promises something I take a tactful, "I'll believe it when I see it" approach. I've learned not to expect much from typical humanity; this way, I'm hardly disappointed. Well, I'm disappointed anyway, and I continued to endure this letdown until I basically started expecting primitive, animalistic, and insane behavior from people; usually I'm spot on in my expectations, but every so often someone actually displays human, higher-level characteristics, and I am pleasantly surprised.

If you don't want to get burned, you've got to take the stance that words mean dick. Come on, say it with me: Words Mean Dick. Nice words are lovely, but only when backed up by nice actions. Just upchucking nice words all over me without lifting a finger to back them up doesn't butter me up to you. It doesn't flatter me. I'm not won over. That's OK; I wasn't trying to be a trophy object in the first place.

Also, you've got to be able to Cut To The Chase. When someone is trying to convince you to do something, buy something, or sign something, you've got to be able to cut through all of the layers of fluff and look at exactly what it is they're trying to tell you. A close second question should be, why? People don't just give of their time or energy just to talk to you; what's in it for them? The more time and energy people are willing to devote to you, the more they stand to gain. That gain doesn't just come from anywhere; chances are, it's going to come from you in one way or another. Mentally or even physically, make 2 vertical columns. Label one, What's In It For Me and the other What Am I Giving Up, and start listing things off in each one. And ask questions. The hard ones. Don't be shy. The more genuine and on-the-up-and-up the person, the more pointed questions they'll be able to answer.

Recognize, monitor, scrutinize. When a salesman picks up on a piece of information about me, they'll often work it back into the conversation, using it as ammunition to play off of, treating it like a weak soft spot to use to get to me, to prime me, to pressure me into agreeing to whatever it is they want me to do or buy. In fact, I often simply throw out little tidbits of info here and there to see what they do with it. I watch how they use it, noting the vibe I get in the process. Are they really seeking solutions to a challenge I'm facing? Or do they just want to get me to sign their contract or buy their product? Judging the Sleaze Factor is rather subjective, and it can take practice.

Salespeople, please. Don't hurt yourselves trying to convert us; we're practically impenetrable. We're up on every sales technique ever tried. We know when someone's buttering us up. We catch when someone we've known for 5 minutes starts trying to flatter us. We'll sit and wait patiently for you to get done with your schpiel, never taking our eyes off the prize: what is it we're getting and how much are you asking? When the time comes, we're actually going to whip out a calculator and start calculating monthly payments, lump sums, special discounts, prices per square foot or per word or per line, and we're going to compare you side by side with your competitors. We're going to shop around. We're not ever going to sign or buy anything TODAY. You can take your "if you sign up right now" and shove it. Upon our request, you may leave a catalog and business card behind. Rest assured, we'll browse the catalog and keep the business card within easy reach in case we should need your services. If we didn't come to you, we didn't need you. When we do, we will.

No matter what, I hold people under a microscope. I analyze their every move, and I eye it with suspicion. Nobody is ever completely on my whitelist, which is why I don't even have one. Instead I have shades of gray, and people have to continue to work to prove themselves trustworthy and authentic in order to advance through the layers.

That said, I do try to give people the benefit of the doubt before striking the hammer. This works just often enough that I don't say "screw it" and abandon the idea. Although everyone is guilty until proven innocent, I have a long reserve of appeals. (Once the gavel bangs, however...) I'm going to have to start talleying exactly how many quality relationships this approach has saved, whether or not they've lasted this long, and whether or not they were worth the energy to save. Perhaps my benefit-of-the-doubt policy needs serious reconsideration.

In case anyone is wondering, yes, I have a recent conclusion to a story of major runaround and sleaze factor, which ended up in minor betrayal. I'm not ready to tell it just yet; the perpetrator may or may not have bought himself another week. Either way, it's late and my Witchcraft books beckon (they're always my books of choice when staying at hotels. I make sure to leave them on the nightstand, as an insurance policy against cleaning staff vulnerable to a breach of character in terms of valuables kept in the room while we're out - somehow they don't want to take chances with messing with stuff owned by people who are openly studying the Craft and potentially learning spells).

Salespeople, however, can just quit while they're behind. It's not like they're going to get ahead, or even simply catch up. And everyone else? I'm watching you too. If you're not for real, it's not like I won't pick up on it.

Badvertising

You know, it's truly ironic that I'm about to rant about advertising (that's your warning of an upcoming rant, by the way), because as we speak, an editor of a Holistic Networker type of magazine (although, sans clairvoyants, palm readers, and tarot practitioners, ya know?) is tweaking the totally-cool design of our first ad, to be published in next month's issue. But see, there's a such thing as dignified advertising, and then there's Badvertising.

Badvertising is when Pandora (the web-based music genome project, with customizable radio stations) had a perfectly good product (uninterrupted music, supported by ads on their website that were pictorial in nature only) decided to start splicing audio commercials between songs.

Badvertising is when I'm so out of touch that I don't even know what my local TV channels or major radio stations are, and yet I still encounter Austin or Houston One Day Deal ads so often I'm tiring of them quickly. Seriously, as a side note - why in the hell advertise those things in San Antonio? Do they honestly think I'm driving to Austin (an hour and a half away) or Houston (at least 2 and a half hours away) just to patronize some business I don't know with money I don't have? We have everything we want right here in our own town. 80% off coupon or no, we'd spend more in gas to get there. Not to mention time. It's just not worth it. So my question to the geniuses behind that move, why bother?

Badvertising is when the checker at the grocery store has to ask me if I want some Brand Name toothpaste today before they can tell me my total bill. Or whatever else they've got a small bin full of that they've been forced to try and sell. I don't need the cashier of the golldang supermarket trying to upsell me. That's what New York & Company is for, and one of the many reasons I no longer shop there. I don't have quite as much of a choice in terms of grocery stores. H-E-B, awesome as they otherwise are, Owns The World around here.

Badvertising is when the ad covers the entire vehicle. And the vehicles themselves even look ridiculous - think Hummer H2s, Scions, Cubes, and others. I'm sure they'd plaster a full ad spread across a Mini Cooper or a Smart Car, too, but they're not big enough to have enough real estate to accommodate such an ad.

Badvertising is when Susan G Komen (the breast cancer fundraising--I mean awareness group, responsible for the fact that everything can now be found in pink and conveniently, it will cost you more than the same item in any other color) decided to partner with KFC. WTF?? Let's take "chicken" (in the theoretical sense of the word), manipulated with hormones, preserved with sulfites, breaded in gluten, flavor-enhanced (hey they need all the help they can get) with neurotoxic MSG, and deep fried in a trans-fat vat, and team up with a cancer-fighting group. Yeah.

Badvertising is when Amazon tries to sell you sets of books for exactly as much as the 2 cost separately. Seriously, if you're going to try and sell me more and you're going to present it as a set, you've got to cut some kind of deal. Otherwise, there's no incentive.

Badvertising is when they saturate you with commercials, sort of like a heavy rotation. I swear if I hear that "Lollipop" song ever again I'll tar and feather someone. Dell, here's looking at you. Your attempt to be a hip Apple copycat is transparent.

Badvertising is when you push the "Guide" button on your satellite remote and you now have a banner ad across the bottom, whereas up until recently, you didn't. And if that's not bad enough, picking a channel to watch often yields a show where, even when not on a commercial break, the bottom one-third of the screen is full of animated notices for upcoming shows, and other advertising.

Badvertising is the iPhone app situation we have now, where the apps have more and more ads. Worse yet is when you pay for an app, only to be hit with more advertising after paying!

Don't get me started on the crap on the back of supermarket receipts or the ads in shopping carts, bathroom stalls, or across a grocery store floor...

I promise that even when our ads become more widespread and common, we will not be evil.

Useless random awesomeness

Despite the refusal of my warring immune system to lay down their weapons, I actually feel semi-productive tonight. This means I'm going to cop out and write some random sh*t that probably no one cares about, but meh.

1. I've never sent a text in my life. And I'm proud of that. No, I'm not going to start. Yes, I'm still in the 21st century. Look ma - I even have an iPhone! Sans texting capability on my plan. Hey, I save 5 bucks a month.

2. I'm losing my hearing. Yes, I'm only 32. I've probably been losing it for a little more than 10 years already. Both ears are going, but the right one is worse. The damage looks permanent. Yep, lots of fun. I don't know how much I'll lose or when (or even if) it will stop. What can I say? I'm living on the edge.

3. I do use said hearing loss to my advantage, when I can. If I'm trying to sleep and the neighbors (or the cats) are making noise, I simply turn onto my left side, which exposes my right (bad) ear. Problem usually solved.

4. If I had it to do over again, I would've gone to acupuncture school first. Then, I could've put myself through doctor school WITHOUT doing massage. And then, I might have done DO school instead of DC. Might have.

5. I'm not Christian, but I get really offended on their behalf when stores won't even acknowledge the population (Christians) who put them in the black (Christmas shopping - the only reason practically every store stays alive). By this I mean the stores who ban the word Christmas and won't let their cashiers wish the customers a Merry Christmas. These are the same stores who saturate the commercial breaks with ads containing the constant jingle of sleighbells and words like "magic" and "holiday season", enticing people to do their Christmas shopping with them...and then won't wish those same customers Merry Christmas. Special place in hell for them, I tell ya.

6. This seasonal/environmental allergy thing? First time EVER. Yeah, I'm 32. My sister had them BAD when we were kids. I never did. She grew out of hers. I grew into mine. Dammit.

7. My mom imitates Cartman from Southpark. Yes, she can really (kinda) talk like him. On purpose, not just incidentally. I'm raspier so I'm usually a bit better at it, especially when I have a cold, but for 57, she's SHARP.

8. I'm an empath, mostly in terms of animals, but increasingly in terms of people too. This sucks more than not. It means that you can never really be truly happy because you're always involuntarily feeling sorry for the suffering out there. Joy.

9. I don't like (most) Californians. I have yet to see more per-capita bitchiness, ditziness, materialism, hypocrisy, arrogance, and self-absorption from any other group of people.

10. My commute really is only 7 minutes long. OK, sometimes it's 8, if I have to wait for the light at Patricia.

11. Our truck is 9 years old and counting. It will be a long time before we will have anything else.

12. I have strange phobias - things like satellite dishes, large rings around the moon, and being up high at night.

13. I've never done any illegal drugs. I don't have anything against those from natural sources (like pot or shrooms) but I also don't have any desire to partake. Nevertheless, I support the legalization of pot in edible form (such as brownie mix) for tightly-controlled, medicinal uses, via prescription from an MD, DO, DC, or ND.

14. I'm sensitive to disturbing movies like "Alive" and "Sixth Sense". I've never seen Star Trek. I actually liked Clan of the Cave Bear. I bawled during "The Green Mile".

15. I hate to have to sleep. Hated taking naps as a kid, too. I was always afraid I would miss something. These days, I just like being awake. Except that I know I have to sleep, for the sake of my body, brain, and sanity. Often, I can't sleep. And at that point, I don't like being awake.

16. I have belched the entire alphabet. In one burp. Don't ask.

17. Until last year, the most recent videogame system I had was the Super NES from 1992. I finally got a Wii. It rules.

18. I'm a map nerd. I will spend more time pouring over maps than my cat Maddie spends preening herself. Bonus points for the advent of Google Satellite.

19. I don't know who the Vice President is. And I don't plan to find out, either. I don't even care. Up until last year I was under the impression the VP was a woman, only to find out he is indeed male. That's all I know. I'm that disinterested in Obama's administration. It's OK. I don't like Fox News either.

20. I LIKE Texas. Sometimes backwards and quirky is OK. If our biggest problem is that we're "slow to change", so much the better. If "change" means more pollution, a higher cost of living, out-of-control real estate prices, the proliferation of bottom-feeding passive-income professions, and increasing race riots, keep them the hell in LA. I'll live in backasswards 1985-land, thank you very much. Things were better then.

21. I was hit by a car at 16. No broken bones, thank Goddess. It wasn't my fault; I had the legit right-of-way. There is a special place in hell for people who roll through stop signs!

22. I was Baptized twice; one was a peaceful, spiritual, non-denominational ceremony in the forest by a godmotherly Reverend. The other was a strict by-the-book Catholic ceremony in the church. Guess which one I cooed during, and which one I cried through? I'm still not Christian.

23. I used to wet the bed on purose, after having been potty trained. I was just too lazy to get up; it wasn't worth the effort.

24. My husband and I eventually want like 5 cats. Funny, as I type this, he's bitching at Maddie to come out from where he can't get her--behind the TV. He's powerless, and smart little shit that she is, she knows it.

25. I've downloaded so many mp3s I could've doubled my mortgage or served hard time.

Today was brought to you by the letters I, g, & E

Good God(dess). I don't think I've ever been so unproductive in my life.

See, the sneezing started up yesterday afternoon but remained at a dull roar until this morning. It started out bearable enough, but I could see things escalating downhill (woo-hoo! Still capable of oxymorons) from there (all of my little IgE warriors were coming out to play, resulting in nasal anaphylaxis), so I took the bull by the horns and prophylactically took a non-drowsy Claritin and we headed to the office. Amazing how sidestreet potholes and Hill Country thunderstorm remnants come together oh-so-synergistically to create the San Antonio Mini-Rapids in the street. The office pictures we were supposed to shoot for our magazine ad (we're being published! Oh yeah....we paid for that) didn't materialize because the photographer couldn't get out of her driveway. Really. Rain will do that to you here. If you want to flip out my mom, just tell her you did something risky after the fact. 'Cause, really, what's she gonna do? You already sinned; it's over and done.

Me: "Oh! Mom guess what I did today?? I drove through a FLOOD! All (husband) and I could say is, 'TRUCK!!!'" and I thought it was funny.

Mom, turning so pale you could feel it through 1700 miles of phone-line: "Promise me you'll never do that again!"

Me, surprised and bewildered: "But... How else am I supposed to get to Hobby Lobby?"

And so it goes. No, I wasn't baked. Not even close. So now that I've demonstrated San Antonio's capability of instantaneously turning a slight downpour into the need for Roman aqueducts, you can imagine the 1+1=50 effect of thunderstorms + unintended Claritin side effects. You laugh...

I started to get tired sometime around noon...I think. I just know it was a heavy, inviting feeling that wanted to dominate every conscious thought. Having woken up to a lullaby thunderstorm and abnormally dark skies didn't help either. So I laid down on the chiropractic table (I'm a blogger, not a grammarista) and went away. My brain still raced; I knew there were so many things that I should've been working on, so many outstanding projects, and I knew I wasn't getting anything done for shit. But alas, while my brain said "what the hell are you doing?" my body said, "stop. You ain't goin' nowhere." In the end, my body won.

But only for about an hour. When I woke up, I staggered into my husband's office, feeling no more rested or ready to get up and tackle the day than I had before I laid down, but I had to draw the line and besides--I was getting cold. Your body does that when you sleep, especially if the A/C is on. I did notice that my motor cortex was a little dampened. While my brain knew what I wanted to say, I couldn't make the movements to spit the words out. Everything was slow, and I was unstable when I walked. All of this drove my brain nuts; my mind was aware of everything, I had a gameplan and I knew what I had to do, but I lacked the motor skills to carry anything out. Such a nice limbo. Adding insult to injury, more thunder and more rain.

So now I'm home, wearing an assgroove in the couch cusion. The employment application I was supposed to finish typing up? Nope. The office pictures we were supposed to take? Nope. The case management ideas I was supposed to formulate? Nada. And the Apex Blood Chemistry studying I wanted to do? Hell no. Wow, today really had a point didn't it? Do I get a do-over? Apparently not. With weeks blipping by like milemarkers on the open road, I have never so intensely wanted time to just slow down and let me do my thing and get caught up.

But I did get the interview questions done...or so I presume. Tomorrow's the open house. Let's just hope that all of my little IgE warriors (for non-docs: allergies) slip back into their little caverns and come out to play another day. Like oh, how about on a Sunday when I've got jack shit going on?

Ode to my family

In about 20 minutes, the 1-year anniversary of my awareness of my parents' horrific accident will come to pass. Little did I know at the time that it had actually happened roughly 12-13 hours prior and that they would wait that long to go into emergency surgery, thus costing Mom her kidney. (And y'all thought socialized medicine was roses. Ha.)

After a long and arduous journey (I would call it more of a struggle, given their starting point, but they tend to see the brighter side of things than I) they are quite functional. Considering what they went through, they made good time. I can't say it's as good as it'll get, as I think there's a good chance they'll improve even more in the years to come.

They never cease to give me cause to admire them. First it was the silver lining they could see in the situation before they could even open their eyes and fully comprehend what happened. They believe, as I do, that there is indeed a reason for everything. Even in the case of a car accident, there are no accidents. They did a fabulous job coping with their situation and applying what rationality they could to such a situation. Never did they wallow in a "poor me" syndrome, but instead re-directed their focus onto the search for the hidden blessing in their near-fatal circumstance, never losing hope and strength. I am proud of them, for they are stronger than I ever would have been in their place. I am lucky to have them here; I could very easily be mourning the 1-year anniversary of losing them. That in itself is too painful a thought to complete, so I turn my own attention to their celebration of life and continued recovery. It is nothing short of incredible.

And then there is my sister and my (un-biological) brother, who stepped in and coordinated my parents' business, while I remained numb and feeling powerless from 1700 miles away. I felt guilty that I had no choice but to get back into the swing of school once I was satisfied that their situation had stabilized and we had done what we could do. Of course, I know that I wasn't part of the family business anymore and I hadn't been for quite some time, and so nothing was expected of me in that department, but I still gazed in awe at my "kid" sister who stepped up to the plate and took everything over like the responsible adult I too-often forget that she is. Putting her own shock and grief aside until further notice, she took care of business, tying up all the loose ends before even so much as stopping to breathe. Before anyone knew it, she had spare drivers, unit managers, and other help all lined up and ready to go at the drop of a hat. The business, for the first time since its own incarnation, was going to proceed as usual--the show was going to go on--without the owners present. This had never happened before, and it was being orchestrated by a short, skinny, brainy wild-child who hadn't even hit 30 but was more mature than anyone else I knew. I knew she had it in her, but she never ceases to impress me.

May 12.30am come and go, and mark a different kind of birthday, the beginning of a whole new year full of potential and miracles.

6 months gluten-free

I didn't even cheat. Well, at least not intentionally. Look, I had no idea that GlutenFlam was not an outright get-out-of-jail-free card. I thought I was perfectly covered. Once I found out that I wasn't, I never indulged again.

I'm here to say that despite the fact that gluten-free is catching on in some of the "fad" circles and some people are dabbling in the diet as such, it wasn't for me. It wasn't even a (realistic) choice. Sure, I could have said, "screw it, it's too hard" and just continued eating gluten, come what may. But I know better than that. I know too much about what happens. I've seen the MRI scans of the placquing in the brain. I've heard the stories of people with progressively-worsening ALS/Lou Gehrig's Disease-like symptoms that cleared up dang near 100% inside of 6 months of a faithful gluten-free diet. I know that as many as 80+% of everyone with Northern or Western European blood has the gene that wreaks gluten havoc in an (often-undiagnosed) family way. I know that there is more to gluten intolerance than full-blown Celiac Disease, and I know that it's not primarily an abdominal condition, as once thought, but rather a neurodegenerative condition (the end-stage of which is dementia). I also knew that armed with this info and my own experiences (the pre-gluten-free bad and the post-gluten-free good), I owed it to myself, my family, and my future patients to walk the walk, no matter how hard it is. Life did not grant me some entitlement to an absence of difficulty; some things are just going to be harder.

So what else have I learned in 6 months?
* When you go gluten-free, much of the gratification is instant. Within the same day or perhaps the next, I stopped falling asleep after meals. People started commenting on how much clearer and brighter my eyes looked. Within 3-4 days of being gluten-free, my night vision cleared up and suddenly I could see well enough at night to drive without nearly as much fear. A few days after that, I also noticed my day vision was clearer, and I hadn't noticed any daytime vision issues at all--only night vision problems. Some of the gratification is more delayed. My mood stabilized - this one takes longer, but it's perhaps the most rewarding benefit. The downward spiral that my overall state of health was locked into came to a slow but steady halt, a difference that although subtle, I could feel over time.
* Some people lose weight as their inflamed/inefficient cells dump their excess water. I wasn't one of those lucky ones. That's OK; I'll work on that one separately, especially since the cause of my own weight probably has a lot more to do with stress hormone levels than excess water anyway.
* I have recently realized I might be reacting to corn. I've been wheat gluten-free, but sometimes I'll still get that antecubital rash or an itchy spot where the rim of my glasses touches my cheek skin. Sometimes I'll get abdominal discomfort or gas. I'm thinking there was either a cross-contamination issue (good luck sourcing that) or a corn problem (easier to find out).
* Eating out can be a downright chore. Weekends spent out of town are a bear, because sure, there are 16 restaurants in a half-mile walking radius, but good luck finding anything at any of them that I can eat. Gluten-free iPhone apps are better than nothing, but they're rather incomplete. Simply put, eating outside the home strips you of your control and it makes each meal a minefield. It's fun and social and it makes you feel like a normal person, but it's Russian Roulette.
* Eating at home is not even an issue. It's only tough in the beginning, as you're scrutinizing every label, trying to identify exactly what you can eat and what you can't, but once you've done that, meal planning is a piece of cake. After all, even if you go entirely grain-free (which I now recommend for all suspected gluten-intolerant people), you still have open season on all meat, veggies, fruits, nuts, and seeds. So, there are plenty of foods I can still eat, and I don't feel deprived at all (except maybe when the spouse heats up an apple-cinnamon Pop Tart. Brat).
* There are things I miss. I miss the organic pop-tart equivalents from Whole Foods. I miss grasshopper pie, not that I had much of it before. I miss Mom's chocolate chip cookies. I miss flour tortillas. I miss buttermilk pancakes and quick, filling peanut butter and jelly/honey sandwiches with the soft bread that doesn't need refrigeration.
* I learned that I can have all the foods that I used to have; I can indeed have brownies or whatever; they just have to be gluten-free. And as gluten-free food manufacturers refine their recipes and perfect their craft, these foods increasingly taste more "normal" and less like "special" foods.
* There is no cheating, and I do sometimes get annoyed with people who ask, "oh but can't you have just a little bit, just this once?" That's like saying a recovering alcoholic, "aw come on - you can have ONE beer, right?" No, there is no leeway. Not unless I would like my brain to swell again and bring back all of the symptoms I used to pray and plead for an answer to. No, thanks. I'll skip the wheat-floured brownie. By doing so, I'll be able to see well enough to drive home afterward. It's tough enough to 1) feel deprived of something I like and used to be able to eat, 2) risk disappointing ppl who made food for me, and 3) have to go through the explanation (once again) of my issue. So thanks, but please stop asking! It's not like my body will just change.
* It's easy to forget and eat gluten without realizing it! You'd be shocked at what wheat flour passes for these days. Bread is easy to avoid. But what about Ho-Ho's? Twinkies? Soup?? There are even varieties of Blue Bell Ice Cream (as good as it is, avoid the Milk Chocolate concoction) that contain wheat flour! Be vigilant--very, very vigilant. It's a wheat jungle out there. It's worth navigating, though. In fact, it's almost a gift. Because now, I can help others from a special vantage point because I've been there and done that. Luckily the T-shirt I got is cotton, not wheat.

Hindsight is 20/10: Parker Edition, Part 3: Outpatient Clinic

This is the third and final installment of my look-back at all the gems people have wisely passed on. Much like a secret handshake, good advice won't necessarily jump out at you; you have to go seek it. My hope is that these posts change at least some of that. :)

Outpatient clinic feels like high school. Finally you're out of the elementary school (Tri's 1-5) and junior high (Tri 6 student clinic) and you have arrived, finally having hit the big time. So, here are some pearls to help you get a passing grade.

* I wish someone had warned me about faculty patients. They're very good people, very nice, very deserving, and appreciative, but for the most part, they are not the picture of compliance. They receive intern chiropractic care as an employment benefit, and it's really hard to value something you don't have to pay out-of-pocket for. Also, you can only get up to 50 TOTAL faculty adjustments (all your faculty members put together). You can't just stop treating them when you hit your 50--that would be patient abandonment, a big no-no--but you can't receive credit for more than 50.
* I wish I had brushed up on my Spanish! Know this: the demographics immediately surrounding the school are roughly 80% Mexican. They are much more natural health-oriented. They are more family-oriented, so they'll bring their spouses and kids in. They tend to have bigger families, so scheduling a family to come in can rack you up a ton of adjustments at once. They're also nice, humble, and respect their doctors. They're hardly non-compliant unless they just don't have the money. Problem is, they often don't know enough English to feel comfortable with you unless you also know some Spanish. Spanish-speaking interns get a TON of walk-ins, because people who need your services will walk in off the street and ask for a Spanish-speaking intern. They get called to the front desk all the time and handed new patients. I could've had so many more patients had I been more confident with Spanish. So start learning and brushing up early!
* I'm glad I was already aware of the fact that people will say things, promise to come in to see you, and then never follow up. People are fickle that way. They will say all kinds of things they never mean. Never get excited when someone says they'll come see you and think it's a done deal. The fat lady hasn't sung yet; a new recruit has to come in, get their exam and x-rays, and attend a health talk before you can even adjust them. And it's only when they actually come in and get the adjustment that seals the deal.
* I am really glad someone told me how to meet the exam requirement. See, I did the math...you need 24 exams. Only New Patient exams (99203), Intern Transfer exams, and SRUs (Special Review and Update, for when an existing patient has a new chief complaint, 99213) count; RRUs (Regular Review & Update - the re-exam for someone who's been under care, to check their progress and update their treatment plan, 99212) do not. (They assume you'll do RRUs on everyone; that's the standard--but don't.) Neither do pediatric or extremity exams. So that certainly whittles things down, no? And be VERY careful when coding; if the patient is an existing patient, not a transfer but still new to your roster, you choose existing patient 99213 when doing their exam - and if they're a transfer, don't code it at all - mark it as an Intern Transfer Exam. You could do everything right, finish on time, get the correct signature, code the diagnosis properly, and even code the level of exam properly, but if it's an existing patient and you coded for a new one, or vice versa, they'll yank your credit...almost with glee. The main thing is, NEVER do an RRU. Seriously. Anytime a patient is up for re-exam, COME UP WITH A NEW COMPLAINT and do an SRU. That way, you'll get credit for the exam. Warning: do NOT try this on staff doctors who are your patients, or any other staff that are enlightened - a lot of staff don't know about this tactic, but some do, and if you're not careful, they'll bust you. Put the feelers out first. Do the math. You're only going to get 10 exams off your new recruits, and you can't technically count on any transfers, although the average is about 2-3. So that leaves you with a shit-ton of exam credits to obtain via other means. Learning about this workaround early on saved me a ton of wasted time for zero credit.
* I'm glad someone told me how adjusting really works, both to satisfy your patient and to keep things cheap for them. You bring your patient back; find everything wrong with them and document it in the "O" section. Then you adjust everything you find, everything you feel like adjusting. When you write your "P" section as to what you actually adjusted, write only the major problems; this way your patient won't get charged for extremities and extra regions and whatnot. This way, they get taken care of without being nickeled and dimed to death.
* I'm glad someone warned me ahead of time to follow up on all those radiology recommendations PRONTO. A rad rec is when the DACBR reading your x-rays says they found signs of osteoporosis and they recommend a follow-up DEXA scan to quantify the bone loss. You have to run this DEXA scan, even though you've never been trained on how to use the machine. If not, I have heard you may not be able to check out. I heard some first-hand stories about interns having to call patients they hadn't seen in months and trying to make sure they come back to the clinic to either have said DEXA scan performed, or sign off on the fact that they opted not to have it done at this time. But either way, it has to be their signature. And get your staff doc to initial it AT THE TIME. This can be bad if said patient's file was closed and care terminated due to the patient moving out of state or something. I don't know how they handle that, but I didn't want to find out. The last thing you want is another tri when you worked your ass off to get through on time. If the patient declines ANYTHING, write it on the green sheet, and have them--and your staff doc--sign it THAT DAY.
* Extra services - win some, lose some. DO the nutritional assessment with the food diary. DO supplements, but SKIP those from Standard Process - they're weak, unsupported by any decent research, and they're expensive for what you get. Go with Metagenics instead. They do proper genuine testing on their products, down to specific lot numbers. Forget the subluxation station; it's eye candy at best. Screw the orthotics. Patients stand on a platform which measures their feet (in need of an adjustment) and makes a mold to that shape. As if it's not bad enough to try and make a 3D mold from a 2D image of a 3D structure. Yeah, because I really want to keep my patients in bad pre-adjustment shape. Foot Levelers orthotics screwed me up more than anything.
* Clinic Camp - you have to go. It's required in order to graduate. Make the best of it. Tune out the bullshit. Some advice: if you have special dietary needs, bring your own snacks! You won't have access to a fridge or microwave, so make sure no cooking is required. You get meals, but sometimes they're not big enough, so you might want to bring some supplemental food anyway. You can choose which tri you want to go: 7, 8, or 9 - so if you're weather-sensitive, plan accordingly. Also: it's important to bring gloves (like sturdy yard-work ones) because the first day is all ropes and you WILL get rope burns if you don't. Also, bring a warm sleeping bag and earplugs. You'll be bunking with a ton of people. Bring sandals for the shower; the floor is not mold-free. And lastly, bring a fold-up lawn chair - one that resembles a hammock or whatever makes you comfy; the 2nd day is ALL sitting and all they have are crappy fold-up chairs. To add insult to injury, you'll be sore from the day before, making it harder, so bring extra padding.
* I'm glad I got a clinic binder before starting. I had everything organized - protocol cheat sheets, halfway filled-out exam forms (so I knew how each ortho test went, etc), and places for my green adjustment confirming slips, my recruit confirming slips, my exam confirming slips, and any of Sharla's printouts.
* Last but not least, I am really glad I saw Sharla OFTEN for a printout of my numbers. People have experienced thinking they were done and closing their files, only to arrive at checkout to see that they were indeed 40 short because they had gotten NC'd on a bunch of adjustments. Or exams or recruits or whatever. Not cool! Sharla actually WANTS you to come to her office...often! She won't chase you down to tell you that, but she does not mind when you come to her. It's what she's there for. Do not get cocky and figure you're home-free until you've checked with her!

I've said it before; it's a jungle out there. This will hopefully help you navigate some of the trees.

Hindsight is 20/10: Parker Edition, Part 2: Student Clinic

The saga continues. Tri 6 at Parker College is the big change-over from academic dominance into clinic practicum. Since this is our first rodeo in terms of being responsible for real patients (partnering up in Tris 4 and 5 don't really count, because it's not like you had to go recruiting...and after all, that's what the latter half of an education at Parker teaches you--recruiting).

Getting through clinic is no small feat, either. There are few lifesaving gems that made it possible--er, easier.

* I wish I had known further in advance that we had to recruit our own patients for Student Clinic, too. Since you're caring for students and their dependent immediate families, you obviously aren't responsible for new recruits, per se, but you do have to talk enough people into coming to see you in order to have a patient load sufficient to get you your passing numbers. You can get through on a comfortable minimum of 4 patients, if they're solid and reliable. Six is average, and gives you a bit more breathing room. Any more than 8 patients, though, and you almost start getting overwhelmed, unless they don't need to come in very often. So, start recruiting early.
* I wish I had scheduled more proactively. Because of a few administrative failures to disperse information properly to the Tri 4s and 5s, they missed appointments they didn't know had been made for them, and some of them are not good about checking voice mail or returning phone calls. You have to get them done first, and then the Tri 1s, before you can even start seeing any of your own patients. I wish I had pawned some of the flakier undertri students onto others who could still use an extra exam, so I would've been able to get to my own patients faster. I made it through, but because I got such a late start adjusting, I had to make up for lost time during the 2nd half of the tri.
* I'm glad that despite the above, I did fare better than some of my peers in that I already knew how to "take charge" assertively, both in terms of scheduling people and keeping them current with their treatment plan. The best thing you can do is schedule your next patient visit right there. Do not let them "call you when they know their schedule" (aka "will call" status), and don't ask them, "when would you like to come in next?" That leaves things too wide open, letting the inmates run the asylum, so to speak. It undermines your authority as a doc; you can maintain this authority without coming off like a dick. Even if your schedule is wide open, you offer them specific days, then ask if they'd like morning, afternoon, or evening, and then narrow it down to choices between specific times.
* I'm also glad I was already familiar with the concept of "cluster-booking", meaning that you schedule patients back-to-back. Start with your most reliable and most regular patients; give the first scheduling dibs to them. Once those appointments are set, then you build the rest of your schedule around them. It's good to offer your last appointment of the day to your least reliable patient; this way, if they don't show up, you at least get to leave early, instead of having to wait around for another patient after the no-show. Heh, it's probably not the most desirable time slot, but then, you're talking about chronic unreliability here; if they're not considerate and respectful of my time and schedule, then I tend to take theirs less seriously, in turn.
* I'm glad I used the checklists that get passed around - it's good to record all the adjustments, exams, QAs, etc, and their dates and fee slip numbers all in one spot, so that you have all the info you need in case you need to reference it quickly later. It's also good to stay on top of your game - have a designated place for all your green sheets and leave them there - don't carry a bunch of green sheets around with you, in case you lose your clinic notebook or backpack or water. You need to keep your green sheets FOREVER, even after you get your license, because they are your only proof that you ever met your requirements. Apparently your board scores, clinic checkout sheets, official transcripts, and diplomas are not sufficient.
* This part didn't pertain to our class, but it's relevant to every class after us: x-ray everyone you can in student clinic. You need to do 15 x-ray writeups in order to graduate, and x-rays are much easier to take in student clinic (depending on your staff doc) than in outpatient, because x-rays through student clinic don't cost your patient anything. Note: you only have like a day or 2 to submit your report, so get it done right away.
* I wish someone had told me about the frequency of the emotional breakdowns: roughly twice a week.

Hindsight is 20/10: Parker Edition, Part 1: Academics

As I asked several people back in the day for their nuggets of advice--things they'd do differently if they had it to do over again, several people eventually asked me for mine. I gave them what I had the time to give, but now that I have a break in the action and have more time, I'd like to compile the list and flesh it out. I'll break this up into 3 parts: academics, student clinic, and outpatient clinic. This post will address the Academics side...

* I wish I had known that the information would lack depth. For example, we were instructed to memorize that HLA-B8 goes with DISH (Diffuse Idiopathic Skeletal Hyperostosis), but we didn't cover what an HLA test is. I did not feel I came out knowing my stuff. We scratched the surface, glossed over concepts, threw big words around, and drilled some meaningless factoids and word associations to pass the board exams, but that was about it.
* I wish I had known about the importance of keeping up with studying. This way, you just do a certain amount of bookcracking per day - you spend less time studying and you retain more come the next lecture, or exam time.
* I wish I had known that subjects like Embryology would be so relevant, especially as it lends itself to practically every other subject.
* I wish I hadn't taken the B.E.S.T. class. It's an elective, an awesome class taught by an awesome instructure and it yields great results quickly. However, it was held on Wed afternoons at 3p right after our 1p-3p lecture, and if there was a 1p assembly, our 1p lecture got bumped to 3p, and since B.E.S.T. was an elective, the bumped lecture took priority, so class was canceled. By the way, tuition was not prorated even though we had to miss 3 of the 14 classes for this reason. I wish the school had told us about this before we paid extra (over and above huge tuition) for a class we could attend maybe half the time (we had to miss a few other times too, for reasons we couldn't control).
* I wish I had known about the Harrison's physiology book. Not that Guyton is bad, but Harrison is the medical standard and it's plenty decent, and if we want credibility in the healthcare world, we have to study from the same sources so we can speak the same language.
* I wish I hadn't written down everything in Tri 1. I missed a lot of info just by trying to write it all down.
* I wish I would've gotten way more involved with lunchtime clubs. They don't cost anything, they don't require anything, they don't assign anything, and they don't expect anything. You come, soak up info you're actually interested in while eating lunch, and that's it. Piece of cake, no obligation, and an enriching experience. Motion Palpation club could've really helped me!
* I wish I'd known that I wouldn't learn to adjust in adjusting classes. I didn't get a single cervical adjustment to move properly until somewhere halfway through Tri 4 (you start learning in Tri 3, but it took that long to get any cavitation), and there were plenty of moves I was just getting the hang of in Tri 8 and 9!
* I wish someone had told me to skip a class or blow off a lab every once in a while to catch up on sleep or to go work out. Either would've done wonders to lower my stress level and improve my health.
* I'm glad I didn't just study old tests. Old tests come back to bite people, both in the short term and the long. In the short term, ppl got burned when a fresh question or answer unexpectedly showed up. In the long term, people screw themselves and their future patients by not truly learning the info, so when patients turn up with these conditions, these new docs who never retained the info are less effective and less qualified. They also lack confidence, so the practice builds slower. The real tests aren't the Scan-Trons in school, they're the patients in real life.
* I'm really glad I signed up for (and showed up for) NBCE Board Part 1 reviews *twice*. See, you take Part 1 when you're in Tri 5 or 6, when you're already the most frazzled and burned out you've probably ever been in your life. You may not absorb much. Once you sign up, you can take the classes any time, and you only pay once - you can take them again at no charge. We took them once in Tri 4 with the class ahead of ours. I took good written notes. When we took the classes again with our own class, it was review for us, and we had the luxury of sitting back and listening.
* I'm seriously glad I also took NBCE Part 4 reviews twice. Parker models their Clinic Entrance practical exam after the Part 4 board exam, so many people figure, "I passed Clinic Entrance and it was a piece of cake, so I won't go to the Board Review classes." Bad idea! First of all, ClinEntrance was about a year ago, and you will have forgotten things. Also, you may have picked up the bad habit of taking shortcuts (or other bad un-board-examly habits) during your stint in outpatient clinic, and you will fall back on those mistakes when you're in the autopilot state that big exams tend to hurl you into. Regardless of what they tell you about Parts 1 and 2 being graded on a curve and Parts 3 and 4 not curved, they actually are curved, just like 1 and 2. Those who don't go to board reviews You will not only want to sign up for board reviews, but you will want to show up. And not just once, but twice. This way, you can write your notes the first time, study them, and then sit back and really watch the second time. Part 4 is an expensive test and it is the most common NBCE test that will delay your getting your license.
* I'm glad we went and scavenged all the books that profs recommended. Sure, they're little out-of-print books written 30 years ago and no, they're not required texts or anything, but these turned out to be little gems you can't get anywhere else chock full of rare, hard-to-find information, written by maverick MDs and DOs of yester-decade. They give me an edge when it comes to helping patients.
* I'm glad we listened to the brave soul who strongly advised people to take extracurricular classes and seminars; he said it would give us the motivation and insight into how we could take the information we were learning academically and apply it clinically (in other words, what did what we were learning mean, and why should we care?) The weekend seminars were extra work and took away from precious free time, but I don't regret going to any of them and in fact, I wish we would've taken more of them. They gave our boring school info a whole new significance.
* I'm glad someone told me how fast it would go. Tri 1 seemed to take a year by itself, but everything else flew by like milemarkers after that.