My doctor says my boobs are normal. I beg to differ.

My immigration to The GC required a chest xray (WTF?) to check for Tuberculosis. Because that is just super prevalent here.

Anyhow, I had to get a written report from the doc who read the xray, and this is what I got:

I'm really quite indignant, I wear altogether way too uncomfortable bras & tight T-shirts to be called "Normal".

And to prove this point:

(you might need to click on the pic to see the text. have I mentioned my need for Photoshop?!)

This pic has a double meaning, actually. Not only does it do my chest justice (take that, doc.), but it also shows my support (*snicker*) for my Rossie peeps who are enjoying some Phun with Pharm today/tonight/tomorrow. You guys are gonna rock it, and then you'll rock finals, and then I'll expect all of you to return your full attention to me. *Ahem.* I mean, have a safe trip home and stuff.

I forgot to include the pic of my "After" unpacking. I figured while I have everything there I should go through all of my clothes and weed out unwearables/threadbare/etc.

I have entirely TOO MUCH CRAP.

Oh, and today I got my Open Water card! Yay!! I'm official and can even dive during my trip with dad next week! Except for that whole find an apartment, open a bank account, get car insurance, meet my new peeps, etc. all within 2 business days. Sooo, maybe we'll just settle for some snorkeling. Or a shore dive. Aw, hell.

Trivialities of Life.

Got my chest X-ray results back today. Here's how the convo with my nurse practitioner went:

Me: So, no TB then.

NP: No, all clear.

Me: Um, great. Listen, can you tell me something? How do my heart & lungs look? Abnormally small perhaps?

NP: Uh...nope. Everything looks good.

Me: Are you absolutely sure? Because I seriously cannot run longer than a fifth of a mile before I am completely and utterly out of breath. I just assumed that since I have abnormally tiny ears that my lungs and heart were just as small.

NP: Hmm.

Then she said something about getting back to work and hung up.

I'm pretty sure the lesson learned here is when you have something as important as an x-ray done, you should have a real doctor review it.

[That was a joke. I do not in any way mean to belittle NPs. I have been seeing this woman for 5 years now and as far as I can tell she is super smart.]

I spoke briefly a bit ago about my upcoming trip with dad to the GC. Dad sorely needs a vacation, and I get to go by default. We'll be looking for a place to live (Miss Kitty puts a serious dent in the available accommodations) that won't suck all remaining pennies from my pocket (seriously. this place is Prada expensive). We'll also be checking out the surroundings, the school, and taking loads of pictures. My mom will be out of town on business, as she is for about 350 days out of the year. Her loss.

Anywho, I'm really looking forward to this trip. It's the first real physical step towards my next adventure. Plus I get to meet the three (yes, three) friends I've met from Facebook. Since I've decided not to pretend to be what I think those people would want me to be and instead to be myself right from the start, I'm pretty sure I've already landed a label along the lines of: "the kooky old lady with a cat." Katie was even kind enough to offer storage space and in return I was kind enough to promise not to fill my bags with illicit substances that may or may not get her visa revoked upon discovery by local police. These people are so lucky to get me, they simply have no idea.

By the way, it's trying desperately to rain today. Which is sort of awesome. Bye Bye Pollen. Sucka.

Balls of Cuteness and Pieces of Hell.

What the fuck.

Seriously.

Here I am, working my ass off with trainers and treadmills and sit-ups and Special Torture (aka turning away GS cookies) and what does my lovely mother bring home from work today?

These are the good kind, all gooey and chewy and lite on the nuts but heavy on the FAT.

If there is a God, please grant me the strength to resist temptation.

And if there isn't. Well, I'm just screwed.

On a cuter note: how freakin adorable is this Ball of Adorableness?

This is how I trick you into thinking that I care.

I melt your eyes with my adorableness.

This is my Furry BFF Sheila (aka Sheebs, Monster, Booger, Sugar.)

Just after this moment of cuddles, she lept off my lap and left me with a pee spot on my leg. Which I really can't blame her for since her urine sample grew bacteria insanely within 5 hours of creation (aka UTI-mania). She really couldn't help it. Don't be all judgy.

Heaven is a thin little chocolate covered minty refreshing cookie. Hell is knowing the box isn't for you.

I had my first workout with the trainer at the Y today. My mom kept scoffing at my use of the word "trainer". She corrected me with "instructor". As in: "Those people at the Y are only there to instruct you in the use of the machines, dear."

Ha. Hahahaha.

Hugh absolutely KICKED MY ASS. (yes mom, I said ass. Twice now.)

They start out with an interview to find out more about my personality and fitness history. Of course, the interview can't be held sitting at a table. Instead, I was put on the treadmill at an incline of FIFTEEN and speed of 3.5 MPH. Because it's Super Easy to talk when you are heaving for oxygen.

Gradually, as we finished up our chatting, Hugh brought the incline down and had me alternate walking/jogging with an increase in the jogging time. I was pleasantly surprised to find that as the time passed I was actually able to jog for extended periods of time without feeling like someone was standing on my chest. Seems I've been trying to train my body incorrectly for some time now. Perhaps eventually I'll even be able to run one of those hashes. Baby steps.

On my way out my new Husband-To-Be told me I have a little Dirty Sexy goin on.

How proud he would have been to see me at my next stop. On the way home I stopped at Publix because this weekend is the last weekend to buy Girl Scout cookies.

[I'll pause while you run out to the store for a "loaf of bread".]

I promised some people on GC that I would bring them cookies when dad and I head down there in early April. (Did I mention this trip? No? Later then.) Anyhow, I bought the requested boxes and a few extras as bribes for new friends backup for the customs dogs treats for mom and I. As I walked away from the table $21 lighter and 6 boxes heavier I came to realize that I am now a Girl Scout Cookie Whore. And everyone is staring at the hypocritical girl in her spandex workout gear power walking across the parking lot with the evidence right in her arms.

Thus I will take all 6 boxes and place them safely in my carry-on without opening a single one. Because to be honest, I like the idea of fitting into a size eight (yeah, you heard me right) better than the idea of being a Cookie Whore with a thin mint habit that rivals that of meth addicts.

Terror Alert: Code YELLOW.

Seriously folks. Our gov'ner should be calling out the National Guard, declaring a State of Emergency. The pollen count has reached a critical high.

And my poor poor car is just sooooo sad. Normally she shines bright and green and happy. Now she's a dull chartreuse and no matter how many times I wash her she is just COVERED 5 minutes later. Unfortunately I have not been able to convince my parents that it's about time we cut down the Centenarian+ Oak Tree that canopies our drive. Thus, each year, I live with this:

You can see the dust from HERE!

Ack! My nose runs just looking at this!

My leaf collection. I'm pretty sure I could make a whole new tree.

My windshield. Boo.

What is the point of having a sunroof?

The left side of the shot is the part of the window that doesn't get washed by the wipers. The right side shows one day's worth of junk since driving yesterday. You also have a nice reflection of the hateful tree that causes this nightmare.

I have to clean my wipers before I can use them to clean my window.

Sadface Car.

"View" from the sunroof.

Course I don't want to imply my car is the only victim of the Pervasiveness of Pollen. Here are some pics from around the house:

Patio table. So clean you want to eat off of it, right?

Grapefruit tree via a sea of haze. On the plus side, the buds will bloom soon and that is a scent I want to bottle and sniff all year.

Even the dog's water bowl falls victim to those wretched pollen thingies.

Sadface patio.

Sadface Front Porch.

Sadface Railing.

This is just a small image of the amazing powers of Pollen. It's EVERYWHERE. I'm seriously concerned that if enough of it gets together it will learn to combine into some massive Blob-like form and chase me.



The Bane of My Existence.

Oh, and have you ever smelled pollen hanging in the air? It's like the lovely scent of honeysuckle, except that this honeysuckle hails from the 7th Circle of Hell.

On a lighter note, here are some shots of the cutest Ball of Fluff ever. Well, top ten anyhow.

I am not amused by your camera flash.



Bask in my glory, mere mortal.

You can't handle this amount of cuteness. I'm so cute that to photograph me in color would melt your eyes.

I am weary of your attentions. Leave me now. I must rest.

Oh, Hai. Don't mind me. Just checkin out your butt.

In Progress.

The days are passing swiftly as I prepare for yet again another immigration nightmare. Had my blood drawn Friday (not fun) for the typical round of STD tests (what is it with tropical islands and sexually transmitted diseases?!). Have to get a chest x-ray done next week (let's cross our fingers that I'm TB-Free!) and then submit all of my medical stuff for my visa.

I also have some fun coordination to do for bringing my kitty with me. Thankfully all of her titers and vaccinations were done already, but the Caymans have such a weird permit system it's driving me nuts! I have to apply to receive a permit that will then entitle me to apply for importation of my pet. Basically, I apply twice. And knowing bureaucracies, probably pay twice.

Having been on this ride once before, packing will be a breeze. Especially with my aforementioned uniforms.

Dad and I will be visiting the island early (April 6 - 9) in an attempt to get all of my ducks in a row before the Big Move. Really, I think this is just a much-needed Mini-Break for pops, but I'll tag along (hello? Seven Mile Beach anyone?). Hopefully while we are there we will find me a fabulous apartment that is way underpriced and a nice place to store some stuff (like books, super heavy). I'm also looking forward to meeting some of the students whom I've spoken to on the phone, everyone has been super nice. And it's comforting to know (also sad, but definitely comforting) that I am most certainly not the only person with a Rossie past. In fact, I'm starting to wonder if the population at St. Matt's isn't close to 50% Ross Cast-Offs. Which is alright by me, hopefully I won't stick out too much that way.

Did I mention the adorable rain boots I got today? They are fuchsia and brown plaid, totally comfortable and ready for some messy formalin in anat lab. Course, they totally clash with my bright red coveralls, so there might be a future purchase from Dickie's in order...

In other news: the pollen count here has reach seventy bagillion and our cars have officially become permanently yellow tinted. Awesome. I have never wished for rain so badly.

Lemongrass Goodness.

My minor head cold has progressed into a full-blown obnoxious case of alternative sneezing and coughing with a little runny nose thrown in for laughs.

I went to the Shak Shak today for some tea, forgoeing my normal order of iced coffee. The lovely ladies at the Shak Shak noticed my sniffling frog-in-the-throat voice and did not even offer the tea box for selection - they had something special for me.

I watched as they grabbed a handful of what looked like long blades of grass, rinsed them off, stuffed them into a cup, poured a nice helping of honey on top, and then added hot water. Without even asking what medicine man concoction they had handed me, I was off to class with my theraputic mug of yummy goodness.

Upon reaching class and opening the lid, I was immediately overwhelmed with the scent of fresh lemons. I have since had two helpings of this elixor of the gods, and am feeling better than I did drugging myself with Tylenol Cold meds earlier in the day. Still sneezing up a storm, but no more abnoxious coughing or stuffy head.

Move over Teavana!!



Love my hand-made sippy-cup.



I think I want to start a little garden of lemongrass at home! I highly recommend it!

Saskia is fascinated that C1q->C1qr2s2->C4bC2->C4b2b->C4b2b3b->C4b2b3b5b67->C5b6789n leads to lysis of a bacterial cell.

So simple it's almost retarded.

As scared as I was at the beginning of the semester, I am very much in love with immunology. This semester is really telling me that my future could very well lie with infectious diseases, public health, etc. Stay tuned.


As to the above heading, that is the classical complement system that works in conjunction with your antibodies to head off invasion of pathogens. It's really quite neat, in a totally "micromanager" kind of way. Here is a fun little video that shows the process with neat little 3D models:





You can really give yourself a major headache if you stop to think about how minute of an action it really is for these silly little plasma proteins to swim around in our blood and chance running into each other to build these slightly larger complexes that can then find their way (again by chance) to some nefarious microbe that they will bind themselves to and proceed to burrow a fun little hole into it's side. But not just one hole, oh no. These nasty microbes can deal with one eensy weensy little hole. No, these complement proteins have a system for making many many holes all in a relatively short period of time. Once their main protein complex is built, they can just continue to make the same "tail" portion over and over, which breaks off and re-attaches to the microbe's cell wall to build the little hole. The official term for the hole-building portion is the Membrane Attack Complex. Don't know why I love that. The Membrane Attack Complex (MAC) inserts Over and Over and Over until the cell essentially fills with extracellular fluid and lyses (breaks open and dies)!

The other mind-blowing portion to all of this is the simple (or not so) ability of the complement system to recognize pathogenic cells. Could you imagine if your body couldn't recognize what cells were it's own versus invaders?! (I smell an autoimmune disease in our midst!) Your body would essentially attack it's own cells and you would die. Crazyass stuff.

Alright, that's all I've got for you tonight. I'm busy fighting off an infectious agent of my own...a nice doozy of a head cold. Nothing that a little NyQuil can't fix. Sometimes you just can't wait for your body to get into gear.

Note to self: Do not get sick enough to be "admitted" to island hospital.

As an avid reader about infectious diseases in third world countries, I am familiar with the concept of sub-par medical facilities. My experience last night made a concept into reality.

A very close friend called me last night, asking for a ride to the hospital because he had been feeling ill for the last couple of days and had recently begun vomiting blood. I rushed over to pick him up and thus began our 5 hour tour of the St. Kitts hospital system (and I use the term "system" rather loosely).

Upon arriving at the hospital, we were greeted by...nothing. No reception area, no signage, just a door to the left marked emergency. Inside there was the remnant of a reception desk that I am sure at one time was used as such, but not for some time. People filled all of the chairs in the large reception room, perhaps about 40 people total. No AC, no open windows for ventilation, no air exchange whatsoever. I tried my best to limit touching anything - including people - to a minimum.

After waiting around 45 minutes - asking for help twice - our other friends finally arrived who took it upon themselves to turn the hospital upside down for a doctor. By this time our school nurse, previously unavailable for "personal reasons", had contacted the hospital and made sure to inform the doctor that we were there and needed to be seen ASAP. A nurse ushered my friend into a back room, whereupon the entire waiting room erupted into a riot about the stupid white kid getting helped before them. Never mind the fact that I had already mentally triaged them all, and I promise you he was the worst of the bunch. But we were white, and therefore devils. It was a rather tense hour.

My friend had a 103 fever, and was admitted to the hospital for tests and fluids. What can I say about his quality of care? Let's just say, I won't be running to the hospital any time soon. And sterile does not seem to be in their vocabulary. And nasal gastric tubes don't require any anesthetic agent to insert. Wow.

Long story short, my friend recovered after two nights of fun on the St. Kitts hospital's private ward. The nurses were quite amused at the sheer number of students that came to visit him. He was released Saturday, and is doing very well now.

For those of you who are curious about what caused the hematemesis? The best answer we could get is irritation/erosion of the lining of the esophagus or stomach. I was shooting for Dengue fever, especially after he broke out in a rash while waiting for his IV to be put in...but alas it is merely GI upset. Guess we'll just have to keep waiting to see who breaks first with a tropical disease!