ogres, onions and cakes: the biochemistry saga.

           Do you remember, way back in Biology 141 or 142 or whenever the biology started to look a little bit more like chemistry, how your teacher made you learn the krebs cycle and glycolysis?
Oh sure, then it was like murdering small pieces of your soul to learn something that you felt you would never need again. There were things like ATP production and a myriad of floating, seemingly unrelated NAD+ molecules.
           Fast forward 5 years (or 4 years, if you were a music major and came into the department a bit late) and shit just got real.  I'm quaking in my coach slippers (well, I wish I had boots) anticipating the krebs cycle that is about to begin with a vengeance. The thing is, I know I learned glycolysis and the krebs cycle. I can picture my undergrad teacher drawing the whole damn thing out on the board. But then graduate level biochem starts and you learn one general thing about undergrad-
Your teachers lied to you.

Mostly lies of omission.

          But that three step introduction to the cycle that glycolysis was made out to be is a chain of intermediates and enzymes so complex that it's regulated by two different enzymes and a bunch of small molecules. There's still glucose and pyruvate in it, but now glucose is transformed into glucose-6-phosphate, to fructose-6-phosphate, to fructose-1,6-phosphate, to both dihydroxyacetone phosphate and glyceraldehyde -3-phosphate, to 1,3-bisphosphoglycerate,  to 3-phosphoglycerate, to 2-phosphoglycerate, to phosphoenolpyruvate, and ending with pyruvate. Each with its own enzyme, naturally.
         And now I'm learning that pyruvate can really go to a whole bunch of different pathways, not just to glycolysis, and that your body produces its weight in ATP each day.


        I'm thinking that oversimplification may be the next deadliest thing to indecision. The false overconfidence, wilting class by class as you realize again that you don't know jack, feels a little bit like betrayal.

        Here's the craziest thing about it- my undergrad teachers were Amazing. (lies and all.) I'm constantly rechecking my notes from 1,2, and 3 years ago to clarify what my teachers are saying now, and I'm honestly a little appalled at both the stories of teachers my classmates had and some of the teachers I have now.

        I wish I could go back to those classes and point out which physics equations are indispensable , which hours here and there to learn with eagle-like scrutiny, to videotape the cardiac cycle lecture so I could put it on youtube and watch it over and over and over again.

        My take home message today has three parts:
                 one- Thank you, amazing teachers who laid down that foundation with integration for different learning styles.
                 two- pay attention in class. You never know what you're going to curse not learning the first time around.
                three- learning is like ogres and onions and cakes....there's always another layer, even when you think you *really* understand something.

Entrance Essays

It's about that time of year again, when all the student of the world are scrambling to turn in their essays and praying that the grad school of their choice will call on them. I remember shaking in my boots as I took my essays to my department adviser, my anatomy professor, my boss, my chaplain and my mom, seeking revision and hoping for the best.
They turned out pretty good, and I made it into my number one choice school, so I thought I'd share them and the questions they answered today.

1. Please tell us how your experiences, background, abilities, interests, and/or hardships you have to overcome make you a good candidate for NCNM.

The principle rule of fine serving is to do so quietly and without intrusion, as if all food was being placed by some sort of cheerful magic just below the guest’s nose.  Blending in with the walls is an essential skill in catering, as is listening to general sweeping conversation and paying attention to small gestures and changes in a guest’s posture so that necessary elements can appear before they are asked for. Being both a creative cook and a dancer helps extra plates make their way through a crowded room without disturbing a crowd. Endurance is a must for those all day events where people expect a fully served breakfast, lunch, dinner, and cocktail hour and when everybody else has contracted Fridayitis.

Though sometimes my job has been too stressful, (like spring breaks where I’ve worked for seventy hours, wrote a 15 page paper, and studied for an organic chemistry test) through it I have assimilated a lot of vital skills that I feel will give me a distinct advantage as a naturopathy student.

One of my job provided skills is that I already know how to be a public servant. I know how to talk to people to lead them to a solution without offending the mayor, and how to make things run smoothly on the outside when, internally, the plans haven’t gotten here yet, the food is late, and the rest of  the staff hasn’t shown up.  I can ask questions, but I can also learn from observing the situation. I’m detail oriented,and I have more organizational skill than many can shake a stick at.

As a servant, I’m not bothered by doing the lowest jobs that often bother other people. I know that these jobs contribute just as much to the overall impression as the bigger jobs do.  I’ve also learned how to deal graciously and kindly with people who are hungry, high maintenance and tired while I am doing those dirty jobs- and moreover, I’ve taught other people how to do the same. Being part of a team has shown me the best parts of supportive following and also of leading by example.

I’ve come this far as an undergraduate while holding anywhere from one to three part time jobs. I pursue all of my goals with focus and care to their completion.  I work until I’m tired, and then I work some more till the job is done. Then I go home and do my own dishes and feed the cats because responsibilities never just take care of themselves.

As part of my journey, I have also learned balance and selfcare. In those long days of served meals, there are plenty of times when everything that can be done is done, and I’ve learned to wait. I know when to sit down and have a ten minute cup of tea, and when it’s time to go see a counselor to make sure that I’m staying centered and focused as a person. I know when to pay attention to something as silly as making sure that all of my co-workers have preposterous hats and a secret cupboard of candy for those rough days. I can sit quietly and breathe, even when the world devolves into chaos in the periphery.

 I am fierce, but I am wise, and I know myself.  I am enthusiastic, philosophic, and excited for this next frontier in expanding my knowledge so that I can be a better public servant, with more opportunities and influence.  I enjoy taking care of people, and I want to have a more active role in this process.

2. What led to your decision to pursue a career in naturopathic medicine?

I didn't believe him that day, of course. My Anatomy and Physiology professor, (his name), had told me: "I know you've got your heart in the right place, but... you need to cut this animal crap and be a people doctor." I laughed at him that day, while I was sitting there on his ugly office couch. But I didn't forget being lectured about my "animal crap"- it landed too close to my heart.

I’d already learned that I couldn’t follow my childhood dream to be a veterinarian. When I was interning out at Northwest Trek: A Wildlife Park the summer before, the field vet had told me to euthanize a rabid squirrel with a broken leg because even an intern can’t screw up euthanasia. The very idea made me feel nauseous, even though I’d assisted with numerous necropsies and field procedures. The vet handed me the needle and told me what to look for in an aspiration of the heart while she gave the squirrel some anesthesia.  I got cold. I could feel my pulse in my eyeballs. And I backed out. I didn’t want to cause its fuzzy life that final harm. Yes, I knew it was dying, and I knew it would only suffer more, but I couldn’t kill it.  The newer intern took over for me, and was excited to be involved with the procedure. She put the needle in the squirrel’s heart and gave it a lethal dose.  I made my way outside and threw up. The whole concept made being a veterinarian completely unattainable- vets have to do euthanasia all the time. The only way to be a no-kill general vet is to have been in the field so long that I could afford to specialize.

At that point, I looked into the zoo keeping and the presentation keeping sides of Northwest Trek more seriously. There was a lot to love about the job- I loved feeding bananas to the moose and watching beavers for hours. I liked taking care of all of the animals, and making sure that all was normal in their fuzzy (or slimy) little lives. The only thing I didn’t like was feeling that I had lost a vital aspect of their care when my veterinary dreams crashed and burned. I felt like I’d lost my ability to truly help these animals have a better life, even though I was still involved with the observation, enrichment and maintenance aspects. I was very torn about my decision to focus on a purely care-taking career versus the healing career I had originally planned on.

While I was undecided, I took more classes and headed towards a general biology degree. I helped out at the Shelton Kitten Rescue, outside of town. I thought about squirrels, and the “is it really final harm, or final relief” debate. I remained convicted that it was a final harm, and I was still convinced that I was going into animal care when Steve gave me his “animal crap” lecture.

With the “people doctor” idea percolating in my brain, I started researching the process of becoming one. Then I kept looking. The idea resonated so much with what I believe in, and who I am, that I couldn’t quit looking. I looked at all of the big allopathic schools in the northwest, and didn’t feel like any of them fit me. When I found NCNM, I was astounded. Not only did it feel like home from the first time I set foot on campus, I’ve been driving past it every single time I’ve visited my parents for the last three and a half years.  Though my path to naturopathy has been convoluted, I feel that my urge to heal is best represented, ethically and socially, at NCNM.

      

3.       What exposure have you had to the philosophy and modalities of naturopathic medicine?

        No one was surprised when I came in bleeding. I was a careless child, and having fallen through a tire swing nearly entirely, but with my foot caught above and my back dragging below, was just another story that my pediatrician would smile and shake his head at. What was surprising was the elusive pain that I never recovered from, and the sudden onset of vertigo and fainting spells. I spent a lot of my childhood enduring MRI's, x-ray machines, CAT scans, braces, bed rest, or taking some cocktail of pills that had been prescribed mostly to show that something was being done.

        Bouncing from specialist to specialist, I learned a lot of things about the medical field that weren't necessarily endearing. I learned that no one has time to explain what they're looking for to a child, and that when in doubt, anti-psychotics are a good resort. I learned that no matter how many times I'd explained my story to a doctor, no one would ever take the time to read the chart before they came into the examination room or believe me once they'd asked the same questions from the chart again.

        Learning the allopathic system made me a fairly cynical little kid. By the time I was 12, I'd seen so many doctors and specialists that I no longer counted on a diagnosis as much as I expected to be written off as an attention seeking lunatic. I quit taking the pills, because I felt better without the side effects. I learned to compensate for falling by standing next to walls, and I learned to never say anything about the pain that I was in because I hated (well, I still hate) being treated like an invalid.

Around that time I was hitting the middle of high school, and my mom extricated a promise to see one last specialist- an otolaryngologist named Dr. F. Owen Black.

        Dr. Black changed my world.

        He listened to me. He remembered me as a person from visit to visit, down to dumb things like prom and baseball. He looked at my symptoms, and instead of treating me for vertigo, he tested me for what caused my vertigo. He told me what he was looking for, and briefly explained what each test result meant; why he was ordering different tests. When he diagnosed me with endolymphatic hydrops, he put me in some of his NASA funded gravitation research equipment, and taught me how to see the world in a way that made standing up easier. He changed my diet so the falling wouldn't come as frequently, and gave me the cliff notes reason of why I would feel better. He referred me to a doctor who diagnosed me with fibromyalgia, and on my one year check up confirmed the diagnosis.

        During that one year check up I remember looking at the framed translation of the original Hippocratic Oath on the wall.  I realized that out of all the doctors I had ever seen, he was the only one who had the words " ...[I] will never do harm" on his examination room wall. He healed me, not only from falling down a lot, but from becoming completely cynical. He inspired within me hope that I could cope with my conditions, and that there was support out there. He made me feel like humanity itself cared about my wellness. He wasn't a naturopath, but he shaped who I will become by following naturopathic principles.

                        

So if you're stuck on your essays, or you're not sure how much creative license you can take with your questions, just follow your heart and write what you're really thinking about. Good luck, friends

Dreams of the Future

Today marks the one month survival point.
            It hardly seems like we've been there for a month, but I imagine the year will get longer as we push towards finals. Already, midterms and papers are starting to swarm like crows over a battlefield, and the once unilateral happiness and excitement is beginning to fade into exhaustion and the occasional breakdown. Overall, we're still happy- but we've become aware, once again, that this is a hard path.

             I've learned enough body work to assist with dozens of general and myofascial release points, and on occasion, I've really been able to help someone feel better. I can find bony landmarks in the upper quadrants on live people, and I've memorized all the names of all the bones and the brachial plexus. I've presented a small lecture on the difference between spinal nerves and peripheral nerves to my classmates, and have been introduced to the biochemistry of bulimia, thrombosis, and hepatitis, with mixed success. I've read as history burned my forebears at the stake for healing people, and read about the  legal persecution of the fathers of hydrotherapy as well as the licensing battles of today. I learned about a nun who learned to use herbs in a vision from God, who healed one pope and was excommunicated for doing so by another, and of a monk whose commitment to transforming the lives of his parishioners led to church reprimands and the founding of one of the original spa towns.

            We will continue onwards, through pathology and pharmacology and radio imaging, taking our hard science lumps with the sweet refreshment of herbology, hydrotherapy, philosophy, and somatic reeducation. The progression will be fulfilling and exciting. The very air around us is charged with change, as ND's have obtained full primary care physician-ship in Oregon with DEA numbers and full prescriptive powers. We have a dream- a dream that one day, everyone will have access to holistic medicine. A dream of health and of happiness, of building and of educating, of healing, and of being healed.


             The next four years are going to be AWESOME.

           

Birthdays are Serious Business.

I'm pretty serious about birthdays.
Actually, I'm serious about finding all the possible reasons to celebrate one day from the next.
We get lost in routines,  and we forget to celebrate the small things that make life so much more enjoyable because it's "not mature" or we "don't have time".
Birthdays are a perfect excuse to live it up.
And so, for my birthday, I dressed up like I was on the set of a glamor shoot. I put on my tiara and my pearls and my six inch heels and the silk and the lace and the likes.  It took me an extra hour to get ready, but I didn't mind. The first time I greeted the world, I was naked. These days I try to make a better impression.

I made myself a delicious, warm, healthy breakfast. I took an extra five minutes to make myself chai tea. I'm the only one who would, anyway- and it's important that we remember to treat ourselves like the special people that we are, when we can. The world is pretty much out to take us down a notch or two, and so often we forget to take care of ourselves. I also made up the bed and left a love note for my husband, because often we're also too busy to take care of those we love. It's so important, for all of us, to take at least one day of the year and remember who we want to be in even the littlest ways. 

I made a delicious and mostly wholesome lunch, substituting nutella for jelly  on my peanut butter sandwich. I packed my water bottle, and then a light load of school books , and then I threw in a new novel for fun because really, you can't study all the time and if there's a single day a year that you should not study- it's your birthday.  I'd rather spend the day seeing the world anew, sitting in the sunshine and laughing with friends.

And so, when I wasn't in class- that's exactly what  I did. I read a book, talked to new friends, drank cappuccino, got a sunburn, and enjoyed the day. Fate conspired to make my life easier  in every direction I stepped, and so I faced no heavy traffic of dismaying  pop quizzes. I heard no bad news, was fortunate to hear  from old friends, and had a cupcake immediately upon returning to my house.
Then my wonderful husband took me out to dinner at a fantastic restaurant, where we had a four course meal and a glass of wine. The restaurant gave me a birthday card, and drew a cake in melted chocolate on my dessert plate, and was just generally in the business of making my night special. 
My honey drew me a picture of a rose during his night shift, and then he presented me with a beautiful box. Inside that box was a white gold and sapphire necklace that he picked out to show his heart was born in September. (admit it, that made you go gushy inside too. I love that kid so much!)


and so, for him and for me, I'm giving myself a year to become the healthiest me that I can be.  It's going to be a great year (and not just because 23 adds together to be 5, and then the 2 adds again to be 7, and then that last 3 goes to 10 which is the twisted way my mind decides that adding once up odd and twice up even is lucky, and doubly so for adding to 7 and needing 3 for the even).

I challenge all of you to have just as great of a year. Pursue your goals, live your dreams, and love as much as you can everyday. Here's to living it up!