Winter!

Yesterday and this morning were Indiana's first experiences with snow, and MAN OH MAN BOY OH BOY HOLY COW was she excited about it.  On the deck it was merely a curiosity:

However, when we got to the park and there was a FIELD! and a TENNIS BALL! and that SNOW! her excitement level went from 'Huh.' to registering on the Richter Scale.

It's hard to beat a Labradoodle puppy for sheer joie de vivre.  She makes everything a lot more fun.

Except when she is bombing down steep icy sidewalks with you slaloming on the other end of the leash.  Then it might qualify as more harrowing.

Today I'm going to a friend's house for a Suture Party.  We have our suturing lab exam next week, and it should not surprise anyone who has ever seen me try to play video games (or seen any of my rare crafty work) that hand-eye coordination is not my very strongest suit.  So this is how we cram for stitches: we sit around and watch the VIDEOS that they gave us from which to LEARN OUR SUTURE PATTERNS and which HAVE NO SOUND!!! and then we all try to follow along and tell each other what we are doing horribly wrong (for example: "Kate, when you throw knots they must appear flat and square, not like a manifestation of the Flying Spaghetti Monster").

There are approximately 374, 695 different suture patterns and we are supposed to know all of them.  This would not really be so bad except that there are 1, 2, 5 (3 sir!)--but really, 6 different surgeons who have been in our lab teaching us these patterns.  And all of them do things differently.  So, if Dr. 1 is examining you, remember not to tunnel your closing knot for the intradermal stitch because that makes Dr. 1 crazy.  Dr. 2 never mentioned deep and superficial strands and the necessity of knotting with both deep strands, while Drs. 1 and 3-6 find this to be the most crucial part of the stitch.  If taught by Dr. 3, you use two hands for most of your one hand tie.  If taught by Dr. 1, you use mostly just one.  Dr. 5 claims that you should always begin a pattern with an even number of throws on your knot, and end with an odd number.  Dr. 4 claims this is ludicrous and that continuous patterns must always begin and end with exactly 6 throws.  All of these surgeons are very talented, helpful, personable and for the most part patient teachers but my God, the conflicting information!  It is like our brains are a nexus of matter and anti-matter voiding each other out and leaving us (or me at least) with nothing to go on.  Anyway.  Hopefully my peers are in a different boat and can correct me this afternoon.

To end this rambling post (which bears, in its uneven and wandering structure, a striking similarity to my Ford Interlocking Stitch), I will leave you with one last heart warming image of a Labradoodle in the snow.

Post-Script: A Cautionary Tale Entitled "How Not to Drive Up or Down an Icy Hill" or "Why I Will Not Be Taking South Street Downtown Today"

Stuff and Things

I feel like I ought to have more to write about, and I know that if I really took the time to think about what is going on (or took advantage of half the opportunities available to me around here) I would.  But it sort of seems like my brain turns off when I close a book, and refuses to reboot until the next time it is called upon for something academic.  Come back, brain!  Come back, creativity!
Today I had a histology exam.  It was a trainwreck in classic Kate Gunderson fashion.  Which is to say, I think I did okay, but I tried very hard to sabotage myself while at it.  First, I switched times with a classmate so she could take it in the earlier session and get to work, so I was no longer on automatic pilot.  Consequently, I somehow thought that my section of the exam started at 3:30 when in actuality it started at 3:00.  Thank you Erika for informing me of this fact when you walked by me, still studying obliviously, at 3:20.  So I frantically bluster into the exam room (wear bright red when you do things like this!  It attracts no attention at all!) and sit down, am informed by my neighbor that I must be at a logged-in computer to take the exam and then approached by the professor who says, I seem to be one exam short, and has to run off to print out another test.  Clock ticking.  When he comes back I head off to the microscope room to try and describe the appointed slide, barely save myself from mistaking the colon for the gall bladder (how? how? they are at different ends of the digestive tract!) and scoot on back to the computer lab.  I finished with about 3 minutes to spare.  Also, this is the professor who agreed to write me a letter of recommendation...after seeing how I did on the exam.

Hi, my name is Kate and my hobby is shooting myself in the foot.  Thank you and good night.


PS: I leave you with the amazing simulated and poop-free cow entrails thanks to my Uncle Dan (dear Great Britain, this is cheating and also a fine example of why you are so awesome): http://www.wired.com/wiredscience/2009/11/haptic-cow/ 

Resolved

• To study daily and avoid necessitating any more cramming
• To do my dishes on at least a weekly basis
• To use my lovely day planner for its intended purpose
• To maintain my house at least to the point of not being mortified by the thought of company
• To keep track of my budget
• To get my sorry butt off the couch and move at least once a day

Holy Cow!

Reasons to Like Pullman, WA

Believe or not, there are some.

1) Yesterday I went for a walk alone (with my vicious protector dog) in the dark and felt perfectly safe.  This is the prevailing atmosphere of Pullman, as long as you stay off College Hill.
2) We now have two really good restaurants.  There are also a couple nice ones in Moscow that I would like to try but are a bit upscale.  Dad, when were you coming to visit again?
3) Today, driving down the road, I passed one neighbor and a classmate or two, was directly behind my downstairs neighbor, and directly in front of a classmate who lives down the road.  If I got in a car wreck and was unconscious, odds are someone passing by would be able to identify me.
4) You are never more than 5 minutes away from anything in town.  Unless it is a game day, and then all bets are off.
5) There are a lot of parks to which one can walk one's labradoodle and illegally throw sticks for her.
6) People are friendly (again, stay off College Hill).
7) The best coffee shop in town also happens to allow dogs.  They know a ripe demographic when they see one.
8) We have a lot of beautiful trees that turn colors, at least when there aren't 17 degree frosts in September that shock them to death first.
9) No one looks at you askance when you go to the grocery store covered in sheep grime.  I think they are used to it at this point.
10) I like my house.

No Gym Membership Required

I woke up this morning and my first thought was:

I wrestled 200 pound sheep yesterday.

OWWWWWWWwwwwww.

SHEEP FEAR ME!

Okay, okay.  Sheep fear everybody, so what?  Well sheep should fear me because I know what the heck I am doing and can flip them up on their tasty rumps in...er...well, longer than it should take but I really just learned this afternoon so I'll get better.  And then I learned how to age them by their teeth and trim their little hooves and theoretically how to stick their jugulars (tough, what with all that wool they wear).  It was so much fun, just the perfect example of Why I Went To Vet School.  Because after working with agricultural animals, one doesn't need to go to the gym.  Because who knew there was a right way to flip a sheep.  Because Suffolk ewes arc joyously skyward in the manner of dolphins or gazelles on the Sahara when finally released from the student-teaching torture chamber.  Because, in this vein, Suffolk ewes will attempt to leap over a 6'2" student delusional enough to think he's going to stop them single-handedly...and they will mostly succeed.