...but it wanes

Two things happened today:

1) My boss mentioned how awful his GRE scores were and that he didn't think he could get into Stanford's program today. He then commented that many people who he deems scientists worth training apply to OHSU with scores barely breaching 1000.

2) I tried to eat some rice and nearly died.

My reactions to these things were as follows:

1) Inspired by my boss's honesty, I went home and did another practice test using scratch paper this time instead of trying to train myself for speed by doing everything in my head. 20% improvement. :) My boss's vitiating of the general GRE was inspiring. This is a man who I respect a great deal; it is exceedingly rare to find in one person a great scientist, mentor and boss. So I have decided, with the help of his accidental encouragement, to concentrate on my health and let the test go what way it will. If Stanford refuses to interview me because my algebra and vocabulary analogies are mediocre, it is truly their loss. Well... and mine, because I would miss out on their Masters of Medicine program... but mostly theirs. The 20% improvement is also very settling.

2) I'm fucking sick of Ensure, broth and emulsified cracker. So I attempted the unthinkable: Jasmine rice. Five minutes later, I repented. Very, very desperately. To the gods of Kobol.

On a more relevant note, Dr. S got back to me today and said exactly what I expected him to: if I'm not getting any worse, stick to the prednisone and try to tough out the lack of diet. Prednisone doesn't work at the same rate for all flares. I am hoping that if I shift my concern away from the GRE (having accepted its overly dressed self-importance) and focus on staying happy and calm, I will sooner be able to enjoy such tasty things as... potato!

the wanting comes in waves

Forcing my calorie-deprived brain through the truculent process of studying after talking about and doing science for 8 hours is frustrating. I'm tired, I'm irritable and even though I've accomplished what I wanted to this afternoon, I feel defeated. You would think that obdurate nature would be more helpful during times of much-needed motivation. Unfortunately, my obstreperous intestines have so lowered my blood sugar, caloric intake and, thusly, my sanguinity that I'm finding it very difficult to keep my spirits on top of this one. <slakes three GRE vocab words!>

My exam is in three days. I have three afternoons to recalibrate my attentions toward algebra, 8th grade level reading and debate tactics. Easy, no? 1 hour of math, 1 hour of reading/argument, twenty minutes of vocab. Why don't I feel the slightest intimation of improvement? Why, after every time I take these practice tests do I get the same fucking score? When I'm feeling rational (aka, before I come home from work on an empty stomach), I remind myself that there are almost zero calories feeding my brain. Therefore, in theory I should be doing worse on the tests than I did back when my brain was being fed. The fact that I'm doing the same although my brain and body are in worse condition should indicate that I'm doing well despite the circumstances, yes? Yes.

Unfortunately, my Stubbornness is of a mean turpitude. Instead of propitiating rationality, it works in sedition against me. It preaches that I am above physiological disability, and that despite illness I should be a genius at everything. It knows that I am an amazing scientist, and have incredible things to offer the world of medical research besides a rococo GRE score. It knows that if I absolutely bomb a portion of the GRE I can retake it at the end of September when I get back from California. <knocks out 4 more GRE words>

But my Stubbornness yields me no respite. It furtively convinces me that instead of giving myself some slack through this health crisis, I should continue to push myself extra hard, and punish myself all the more for not showing more confident practice scores. <dourly shuffles the last of the uncertain GRE words into the mud and watches them suffocate>

T minus 1d to Remicade

My biased assessment tells me three things:

1. that prednisone is working after 4 days,
   
2. this flare is indeed from newly disturbed tissue and not previous scar tissue,
3. Remicade will be the solution and I will not have to undergo surgery 8 days before the GRE and two weeks before I go to California to meet with my academic future.
   

My unbiased assessment, on the other hand, has me concerned that

1. the prednisone may not be working as well as we hoped,
2. I am only deflecting the pain with oxycodone and by not eating anything,
3. this flare may, in fact, be from old scar tissue and I may, in fact, need surgery... god damn it.
   

<takes a moment to actually call Dr. S's advice nurse to inquire about symptom progress as I was told to do>

Vicki says, "Bless yer heart... well, we're going to go ahead with the Remicade infusion tomorrow and treat this, for now, as if it is a fresh flare."

Cool. From the horse's mouth. As I assumed, four days is not sufficient to be able to tell whether prednisone is or is not working. It's not just because I've also been on constant oxycodone which is blurring my actual symptoms. It's also not just because I'm still on a liquid diet because baked potato didn't go down well.

If I do need to progress toward surgery, I will find out in a few weeks. Hopefully after California. For now, I will put off studying until Sunday, by which time I shouldn't have to take oxycodone and should be able to study. Next week will be a studying powerhouse, which is probably a better style for me anyway.

drug malaise + studying

I woke up today in a bent of depression. I've missed three days of work, all spent in a blur of drugs, pain and sleep. With the stimulatory effects of prednisone now battling the suppression of the oxycodone and promethazine, I find myself in a limbo of consciousness where I can neither sleep or focus in an adequate way.

I decided that now was an opportune time to play around with that psychological rule of learning: if I attempt to study when high, will I then have a better chance of performing decently if I have to take the GRE under-the-influence. Oddly, this served to alleviate the depression instead of exacerbate it. Hilarious relief.

My point of struggle in studying is with reading comprehension. I find it stupid that the single test parameter that got me recruited for TAG (talented and gifted students) and advanced course placements is now my downfall in standardized testing. <takes a minute to giggle with disturbing hysteria>

The disappointment in this activity is that I can't see straight, so not only am I trying to focus on content/context... but on reading the words themselves. It is deliciously pleasing, however, that I'm managing to do just as well if not better whilst high than I do when healthy. I think a great deal of this success should actually be attributed to my newfound ability to hold testing tips in my mind while "assisted".

For instance, my reading comprehension tricks are to mine the first third of the passage for main idea and purpose, then answer the first questions which usually pertain to what the author would say about such and such and what is the purpose of this passage? I then return to the passage when the questions become detailed. I paraphrase each following paragraph keeping track of target words. From there, I can detect the fishy answers in the remaining questions by the way they fit into the main ideas and paraphrases, and easily identify the correct answers based on how they relate to the target words or paraphrased paragraphs. Granted, I have not used these tricks yet while sober, but it is comforting to know that they improve my malaise performance.

18d to the GRE

Tuesday morning: Boost, 6mp, levisin, peppermint pill, probiotic.
Tuesday afternoon: Boost, ginger pill, levisin.
Tuesday evening: baked potato, peppermint pill, minus a cup of blood.

Symptoms: nausea (the kind that you get high in the stomach when you vomit nothing but bile for hours on end), fatigue, pain (stomach and intestinal), diahrrea, blurred vision, and an insane craving for Chinese food.

Well, I haven't studied for two days and I'm feeling anxious. But not enough to try to study between running to the restroom every ten minutes. I think I'm still on the right track, though. It can be done. I keep having to remind myself that the reason my scores aren't improving on the practice tests is because I'm not focusing and my attitude is, "I'll do better when I'm more alert"... as if magically I'm going to be more alert and less nauseas 18 days from now.

I plan on taking the practice exams in sections from now on (still timed) instead of all together. This should help the maintain focus. Should. I have no interest in masking this - it's fucking hard. The material is simple, but the task of focusing and blocking out the pain and the malaise and exhaustion is... well, exhausting. Honestly, my motivation to do well at this point is so that once it's overwith I can meet with my prospective mentors in California the following week with pride and purpose.

I'm finding the confabulatory prognostication of failure and defeat to be more harmful than helpful, as usual. Therefore, my goal for the next three weeks is to concentrate on what I'm doing now, and agree with myself that if I study assiduously, the outcome of the test will be indicative of that. Baring in mind that I am not a genius, and, in fact, have other qualities that trump that quality, I can be content with an above-average score... which is usually where I fall academically.

Speaking of research experience (which is my second most attractive scientific asset), I'm actually writing this at work. Truth be told, when my boss is out of town and my coworkers don't even see fit to come in, I have no quams about sitting here writing for the bulk of my time. I feel no obligation to perform above and beyond when my boss is not here. So I'll write, I'll get the critical parts of protocol done, I'll read some journal articles, I'll run to the restroom about twelve times, then I'll catch a bus home and hopefully be able to study a bit during the ride... and not have to get off the bus and waddle to the nearest public restroom and finally find one only seconds before... you get the idea.

This is a bit how my internal pep-rally goes:

I am not an academic prodigy, but... I have intelligent creativity, tremendous work ethic, astronomical ambition, indestructible curiosity, a history of begetting and carrying-out great things, and a unique ability to write and communicate that almost zero scientists that I have met can challenge.