Breakthrough!

This is an example of what I've been working on today ...
the reaction to the left is called halogenation; the reaction
to the right is called halohydrin formation.

After hours of wrestling through organic chemistry problems (and getting so many wrong) ... breakthrough! I think I'm finally getting it. Reaction mechanisms, that is. Well, not ALL reaction mechanisms, just the handful that we've studied thus far this semester. (The mechanisms of SN1, SN2, E1, E2, hydrohalogenation, hydration, halogenation, halohydrin formation, and hydroboration-oxidation, to be more specific.)

This morning, when I started studying for my organic chemistry final, it was all a mish-mash to me. Anti addition, syn addition, retention of configuration, racemization, carbocations, bridged halonium ions ... I couldn't keep it all straight. But after making (and reviewing) a huge batch of flashcards and working through gobs of these practice problems, something has clicked. Just now, I found myself looking at a reaction and actually knowing what to do with the bonds, atoms, and electrons. What arrows to draw. What products (including stereoisomers!) would form.

I still have a lot of practicing to do. I don't have all of these reactions down completely. But I'm getting the hang of it, slowly. Thankfully, my organic chemistry final isn't until next Friday, so I have plenty of time to cement my understanding. But knowing that I am already on my way is a darn good feeling.

The Art of Orgo

I have my fourth and final regular Organic Chemistry exam tomorrow on reaction mechanisms. In General Chemistry, we studied basic principles of chemistry, and how to mathematically work out many types of problems, but now we're actually learning how different reactions happen, why, under what conditions, etc. It's actually pretty interesting. Especially since there are so many pharmaceutical and biological applications for what we're studying. Given that I want to do a PhD in Genetics, I know that knowing this will be helpful, at least for some of the graduate-level coursework (i.e., Biochemistry) that I will soon be taking.

In the beginning of the year, I used massive amounts of printer paper for doing practice problems. Then as I was cleaning out the basement of my old house, I rediscovered a giant dry erase board that I had bought years ago. I thought to myself, "We do practice problems on the dry erase boards in class; why not do the same at home?" So I lugged the dry erase board to my apartment, bought a big set of colored dry erase markers, and started drawing.

To my surprise, I found that I actually enjoyed doing the problems -- drawing things out larger, and using different colors to symbolize bond cleavage and formation (for example) really helped me see the bigger "picture," so to speak. So that's how I've done my orgo homework ever since.

My drawing board has been especially helpful with reaction mechanisms -- these problems have multiple steps, multiple bond breakings/makings, and having a large surface area (and again, many colors to differentiate things) has really made a difference in my learning process.

For kicks and giggles (and to further illustrate my nerdiness, not that that takes much doing), I've taken a picture of a practice problem from my textbook that I worked out on my dry erase board.

I know I'm not a doctor (yet), but if looking at this gives you a headache, I recommend taking two Aleve (a.k.a. naproxen sodium) and lying down for about 15 minutes. The blurred vision and pounding will go away soon, I promise.

I Have A Dream, Too

In addition to this blog, I also post frequently (and keep a "diary") on OldPreMeds.com (OPM), a forum dedicated to non-traditional pre-med and med students. Recently, there was a thread on OPM about race and disparities in health care. This thread evoked strong emotions and opinions from many OPM members. It got me thinking about this issue, and brought up significant emotions in me, too. I don't normally double-post things on both OPM and this blog, but I want to share here what I wrote on that thread, in the hopes that it will inspire people to think about this issue, and even more so, to do something about it, if only in small ways:

As I write this post, I am weeping. Because this thread has reminded me oh-so-clearly that we live in a world where inequality, rather than equality, is the rule. Where the color of a person's skin, or how much money they have in the bank, determines so much about their quality of life, the quality of their education, the quality of their health care. That breaks my heart. Because it is absolutely not right. There is no arguing with that.

I want to thank you for bringing these issues up in our community here on OPM. Because we are a community, and one of the roles of a community is to come together - not necessarily in agreement, but at least in discussion - on significant issues. And this is one of those issues.

I am white. I cannot pretend to know what it is like to experience the hurt that people who are minorities experience, sometimes on a daily basis. The cumulative effect of that pain, I cannot even fathom. No platitudes I have to offer will make that disappear.

So this morning, I turn to someone who knew that pain, who lived with it day by day, and who chose to confront this issue of inequality in a way that was so offensive to the racist element of our country that he died for his cause.

We all know snippets of Martin Luther King Junior's "I Have A Dream" speech. But it had been years since I had really read these powerful words. I offer a lesser-known quotation from his speech in the hopes that his dream can become ours, and that we can work together, even in small ways, to bring it to pass. Someday. So that, as MLK said, "one day right there in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers."

Here is what I have to share from MLK's speech. Here is what brought me to tears - tears which will not stop - this morning:

With this faith, we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith, we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith, we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.

Is this a pipe dream, an unachievable goal? I have to believe, to hope, that it is not.

Separately, we are each but one person. But together, we are a community. And like it or not, many of us will someday be in positions of influence and power, of some sort or another. I hope we each choose to use that influence and power wisely, so that it makes a positive impact, if not upon the world as a whole, at least upon individual lives. That is, at least, a place to start.

The Intersection of Science and Art

Some time ago, I posted pictures of photo prints from Allposters.com that I was drooling over. Well, Santa Claus (in the form of my lovely mother) agreed to buy four of them for me for Christmas. I purchased them yesterday during the Web site's Cyber Monday 30% off sale. Here is what I chose:

Neurons: a human brain cognition synapse.

Neuromuscular synapse: The junction
between a nerve fiber and a muscle.

Red blood cells (erythrocytes) in a vein
showing their biconcave shape.

Neuron showing the axons and dendrites.

Hooray for science!

I Think I Can ... I Think I Can ...

I'll be honest. I'm a bit stressed right now. The end of the semester is nearing, which is very exciting, but it's going to be a busy next three weeks.

Between now and Dec. 16 (the day of my last final), I have:
- 2 regular exams (organic chemistry and genetics)
- 1 calculus quiz
- 3 genetics lab reports due (which will each be about 20 pages long)
- 3 final exams

Plus, I need to keep up with new course material for two weeks, and will have a smattering of regular homework assignments during that time.

If I step back and look at the whole picture, I become overwhelmed. So my strategy is to take things one assignment, one quiz, one lab report, one exam at a time. Of course, I need to think ahead in some respects to plan for what's coming so I can properly prioritize my time. But my goal is to focus on what I need to do today, so that I don't freak out.

Also, I am reminding myself that things will work out, that I will get my work done, I always do. It's just a matter of putting my mind to it, which I am quite capable of doing.

I have a friend who is a second-year medical student now, and when she tells me about how much material she has to review for this or that exam, or how many exams she has in one week, I feel my eyebrows rise. But the fact of the matter is, she is doing it. I will be able to do it too. And all of the work that is piling up on me right now? Great practice for when I'm in medical school.

This reminds me of one of my favorite books when I was a child, "The Little Engine That Could." No one believed that little engine could make it up the big hill, but he did it, thinking positively all the way:

"I think I can ... I think I can ... "

That's my motto for today. Really, for the next three weeks. Or perhaps for the next several years, as I complete an MD/PhD program. And when I think about it, it's a great motto just to have, for life in general.

MCAT Countdown!

If you've taken a look at my blog in the last week or so, you may have noticed a new graphic in the upper-right-hand corner: a "ticker" counting down the days until I take the MCAT (Medical College Admissions Test).

That's right, it's official! I'm taking the MCAT at 1 p.m. sharp on April 28, 2012 at a testing center in the Western suburbs. Which, according to today's ticker, is exactly 5 months and 5 days away.

As I move along in this process, this whole thing - my dream - is becoming more real. I finish the next-to-last semester of my post-bac pre-medical program this December. This coming spring semester IS my last semester of post-bac classes. I take the MCAT in late April. I will apply to medical school early next June - just over 6 months away. And hopefully by this time next year, I will have been interviewing at medical schools, or will have interviews lined up. Crazy. But oh-so exciting.

To all of you who are supporting me on this journey - thank you, and happy Thanksgiving.

"Putting on the Ritz"

A fashion show participant
who wore one of my hats.

I'm a bit scared of growing old. And I know I'm not alone in this thought. Becoming weaker, losing one's faculties, potential diseases ... doesn't sound like much fun, does it? But I was reminded yesterday that growing older doesn't have to mean you stop having fun, or strutting your stuff.

Yesterday, I was lucky enough to attend a fashion show, called "Putting on the Ritz," at Norwood Crossing, an assisted living center where my mom (a hospice nurse) has had patients. It's a beautiful facility, not like the typical "nursing home" you imagine, with dimly-lit, antiseptic-smelling halls and depressed residents wheeling themselves about. No, this is an amazing place with a fitness center, a cafe, an incredible arts program, and many more amenities. My mom has told me - and I agree wholeheartedly with this sentiment - that if she ever has to go to an assisted living place, she wants to go there.

I was also lucky enough to help, albeit indirectly, with this fashion show. I collect vintage hats - I have about 80 of them, at last count - and when my mom heard the facility was putting on a fashion show, she asked me whether I would be willing to loan some of my hats to the ladies. "Of course!" I answered. I don't get the opportunity to wear my hats much these days, although I used to when I worked in an office, so I was pleased that others would put them to good use, if only for an afternoon.

And let me tell you, these ladies (and gentlemen) looked sharp. The fashion show began with a woman reading the show's manifesto, which the participants had written themselves. I found the manifesto quite meaningful, so I will share it here:

Older adults are excluded from so many things, just for being in their golden years. In many ways they've changed. In many ways, they haven't. It's like starting over - losing things, but gaining other things. Everyone still has their own personal "air." They show it in the way they hold their head, in whatever they do with their chin.

Another participant wearing one of my hats.

Our models come in all shapes and sizes. Everyone has their own way of moving - individual differences. It's an opportunity to express ourselves.  But even walking across the street can put you in that same situation - it's the way you move. Our builds are all different. We're embracing the differences. Wearing clothes that fit one's personality. Some people are serious-minded; some look like they're happy. It shows the emotions. There's room for every mood, build, and emotion. Fancy, dress-up, dress-down. We are heterogeneous and homogeneous. Age is not pertinent for what we are doing here. We are women and men.


It's the person we are trying to project. Clothing is just another tool that we use to project a persona to others. At our stage in life, we have to be more accepting of who we are. We won't be perfect - whether it's in the therapy room, or in a fashion show. It isn't necessarily what we're wearing that's the fashion, it's who we are.

Then the women - dressed in their finest, some of them wearing my hats - and the men, dressed in tuxes - walked or wheeled their way through the rows of chairs to the music. And we're talking fun music - "Pretty Woman," for example. At the end, they all went to the front and danced. One woman really boogied, shaking her hips, shoulders, and head as she walked with her walker. I commented to my mom that she could really show me and my girlfriends a good time if she came out dancing with us on the weekends!

The postcard advertising the fashion show -
with my hats featured!

It was a good reminder that growing old doesn't have to mean losing your sense of self, fashion, pride. It just means that you accept certain limitations of your body and work with those, still expressing all of the things that you did when you were younger.

I plan on enjoying my youth and middle age, doing what is possible during those eras of my life. But I saw yesterday that growing older doesn't have to be so frightening after all. You're still you, I will still be me. As the participants said in their manifesto, "Age is not pertinent for what we are doing here. We are women and men."

I plan to take that sentiment with me, no matter how old - or young - I may be.