mahiwaga

I suppose this is the kind of demented entertainment I’m paying $50,000/year for. Yup, this is the sort of thing they teach those aspiring to the art of medicine:

Word of the day: acrotomophilia

For those who are too lazy to click the link (or on a 56k connection—I feel your pain), an acrotomophiliac is someone who has a fetish for amputees. I know as a clinician I’m not supposed to be judgemental and all, but, oh my god, are people weird. Today’s lecturer was talking about how some narcissistic acrotomophiliacs will wrap a torniquet around their leg until it gets gangrenous, get taken to the emergency room, and masturbate right after getting an amputation, having the best orgasms of their lives. And how some acrotomophiliacs try to frequent the medical records departments of hospitals so that they can try to glean phone numbers of amputees.

Now, on to a totally unrelated matter (except for the fact that it is also something I’ve learned in med school). I used to wonder about how anyone could ever get so addicted to something that they’d be willing to stab themselves with a needle, puncture a vein, and possibly risk getting viral hepatitis, AIDS, or subacute bacterial endocarditis, but that was before I learned what a powerful substance opium and its derivatives are. I mean think about all those who run miles at a time, even in the infrafreezing cold, even when suffering from intense bodily pain. You know it’s not just about getting into shape. It’s all about the endorphins, baby. I think I’m seriously addicted. If I don’t go for my semi-daily 20 minute run every day (Oh yes, I am terribly out of shape. Twenty minutes is more than enough to fuck me up at this stage) I start getting all edgy and short-tempered. I just need that fix. I mean, you should look at me now. I’m all calm and sedate with a huge smile on my face. Nothing better than endogenous narcotic substances. If I can only figure out how to get myself to secrete ananandamide, I’ll be all set.

I think your map of the world resides in sections of the parietal lobe and temporal lobe of the brain, and I am finding that I need to have at least three copies of it, depending on the season. (One for spring and summer, with all the out-of-control foliage, one for fall when all the leaves have fallen and all the trees are bare, and one for winter, when everything is covered in snow.) This place looks completely different now that it is blanketed by a couple of inches of snow and I almost turned early to go to the grocery store because apparently I couldn’t recognize the place. For a few seconds I tried to superimpose the three different maps in my head onto one location and I got all dizzy. This is not natural for me, having lived in California for 23 years, where the seasons pretty much don’t change. I think it is occupying valuable neuronal real estate that I need for building schematic maps of antibiotics, drug interactions, bacteria, and the different forms of diarrhea you can get (e.g., watery, explosive, sludgy, etc., etc.)

I know. Excuses, excuses.

So yeah, now that it is my third year here in the Midwest, some of the novelty of snow has worn off. It’s nice to watch and all, in fact, I still think it is quite beautiful, but I really wouldn’t mind if tomorrow were the first day of spring. You bet I’ll have my fingers crossed when February 2nd rolls around. Here’s to hoping.