dawn: adventures of a journeywoman

My first cliff jump!

As the shouts and blasts of fireworks rang out around my parents home last night as the clock struck midnight, I realized amidst the noise, a quieter reflection has been taking place within. Many of us have spent the past few days looking around our lives, remembering the past and predicting the future.

2009 was a year of "fullness" for me. In many moments throughout the year I consciously reminded myself of the precious gift of life I was experiencing. I was blessed enough to begin 2009 in freezing Chicago, meeting with my mentor from Kenya on his first trip to America. It was a delight to reconnect with a friend who helped shape my life and introduce my parents to him as well. The next day I attended another roommate's wedding.

I attended 7 weddings of friends within the year, including both women I had lived with for over three years in Washington, DC. At times it felt a bit like life was "passing me by." In addition to my long-standing roommates moving out at the same time, my medical school classmates graduated and scattered as they began their internships in various specialties in many parts of the country. In my same room, in the same city, I was tempted to feel stagnant. But as exciting and appealing as change may seem, there is an element of fear in jumping from one stage of life to the next. And I discovered a magnificent level of depth inherent in constancy. Remaining in relationship with friends I had made took our friendships to deeper and more honest levels. Remaining in my same apartment led me to pray in deeper ways for my neighborhood as I walked the surrounding sidewalks over and over again. I was more available and sensitive to various needs of those around me and often had the gift of presence to meet those needs. At one point in the year, I was riding my bicycle to a prayer night at a couple's house I had briefly met a few times. On the ride there, I was struck with the sense that they needed a "date night" the next Saturday. I wasn't really babysitting much anymore, but the nagging feeling wouldn't go away after I returned home (and afterall, I did have that Saturday night free). As soon as I walked in the door, I called the couple to let them know I got home safely and tentatively brought up the date night idea, which was taken up on immediately. Upon returning home, the wife said, "You know, we didn't know how much we needed that night out. We haven't had one since we had our youngest and we were able to reconnect in many much needed ways." It is such a privilege just to be used in this and many other small ways.

After having enough of the cold in America in January, I flew down to Nicaragua, where I met up with fellow masters students for a research project. We studied food security and its effects on health. In 2008, food prices had tripled in some areas, and we wanted to know how that was affecting birthweights, food choices of families, and governmental and non-governmental organizations priorities and capacities for meeting these needs. While in Nicaragua, we did have a some time for cliff jumping, climbing up a volcano, and zip-lining down.

After my first cliff jump, I was ready to give in to gravity with another first: my first time skiing. Nineteen friends from DC all flew up to Maine to camp out at a friends' house and share ONE bathroom. That's what I call true community. After years of avoiding skiing due to fear of injuring my dancing body, I was now ready to face the hills since my dancing career has been relegated to monthly ballet classes and simple worship at my church. I started with a ski lesson (as many 5 year olds zipped past me), and then I was ready to tackle...the bunny slopes. I'm not sure when or where my next ski adventure will be (after interviewing in Seattle and Denver, I may end up living near some mountains), but I can't wait.

In May, I celebrated receiving my Masters in Public Health from Johns Hopkins University with an M&M party. For those of you who have never attended an M&M party, the requirements are that each guest must arrive with either a mustache or mullet or both and bring a food or beverage that begins with the letter M. We gave out prizes for the best facial hair and enjoyed our share of macaroons, Magic Hat, Merlot, margaritas, macaroni and cheese, and mandarin oranges.

Sporting my (fake) mullet while a few friends show off their fashionable mustaches.


In between my classes and writing my masters capstone project, I began making some extra money as a "healthy volunteer." After my first foray into the world of medical experiments through receiving and HIV vaccine three years ago, I was fascinated with the ability to contribute to the science I use every day in a very personal way. With the National Institutes of Health (NIH) right up the road, I gave blood for testing, underwent a half-day thyroid study, had a 2.5 hour specialized MRI, tracked my evening mood levels, did a virtual reality study on healthcare providers perceptions, received electric shocks on my wrist to test my stress hormone levels and prediction of when they would come, had my urine, blood, and toenail clippings collected to compare levels of certain chemicals in my body to smokers, and lived in a box for a week. While fasting, I stayed in a glass chamber for 8 hours a day where my metabolism could be carefully tracked as I was given various gastrointestinal stimulants. While in the box, I watched 12 movies, wrote my personal statement for my residency application, and read "East of Eden". My roommates came and visited me on my last day and we celebrated the week's end at my favorite all-you-can-eat brunch.

A shot of my life inside the box.


And there were also months where my medical knowledge and skills were put to the test. I took my last United States Medical Licensing Exam (USMLE) of my medical school career in Philadelphia. For eight hours, I met with standardized patients (actors, much like the Seinfeld episode where Kramer and Mickey fight to portray jaundice). I had to quickly obtain their medical history, do a physical exam, explain the probable diagnoses, and show empathy as I explained the next steps in treatment. There were angry patients, obese patients, fearful patients, and patients I needed to convince to stop smoking. I was graded by the actors, by the reviewers watching my performance on a video taping, and on my clinical notes I wrote. But in the end, all I received was one word: PASS. This let me know that the powers that be believe I have what it takes to continue on my road toward being a physician, which is always good to know.

In my clinical rotations, I was given much more responsibility as a fourth (and final year!) medical student. I was the primary caregiver (below my supervising physicians) for several patients at a VA hospital. With them, I better learned how to manage various levels of pain, diagnose and manage common maladies, and say "I don't know" when all the marvels of medical science still leave conditions undiagnosed. In Kenya, I was expected to manage all of the ER arrivals and sick patients in the general pediatric and medical wards overnight every 3-4 days, as the "first on-call." I learned what patients I could really handle on my own, when to wake up the next provider, and how to declare a deceased patient. Back in D.C., I learned how to diagnose and care for stroke victims, manage degenerate neurological conditions, evaluate babies with misshapen heads for dangerous symptoms of hydrocephalus (when too much pressure builds from water on the brain), and observed many brain surgeries on children. I took on more responsibility for my favorite patients (women) in Seattle while learning how to diagnose, counsel, perform surgery, and treat ovarian, uterine, and other gynecologic cancers. Some of these stories made me cry (an 18-year-old discovered to have an enormous ovarian cancer who faced chemotherapy alone, an older woman in denial of her prognosis watching cartoons and hugging a stuffed animal) but I continued to see God at work in that place as well. There was a suicidal women who spoke to me of our shared faith and families who were convinced to bring laughter to their loved ones (and the staff) with flowers, antics, and jokes.

As my heart reflects on all the wonderful ways I have seen God work deeper things in me with adventures, heartache, and friendship to grow me in 2009, I wonder what is next for 2010? Another degree? My first steps into my career as a physician? Another trip to my beloved Kenya? A fresh adventure to India? (see the bottom of this entry for more information) Finish watching all top 100 American Film Insitute movies? (I'm up to 51 currently) While all of these may be plans for the coming year, I am often reminded how tenuous and fragile our human plans are. We really have no guarantees in this life. In reading the Bible, I find many guarantees, but most of them are not for our earthly life. The few that are include suffering, trials, and persecution. (How many of us are expecting suffering in 2010?) But through all of this we are also guaranteed a presence, God's presence. "...for God has said,
'Never will I leave you;
never will I forsake you.' So we say with confidence,
'The Lord is my helper; I will not be afraid.
What can man do to me?'" Hebrews 13:5-6
But beyond this life, we are guaranteed much more than we can ever imagine for this coming year or any other year. We who put our trust in Christ are promised an escape from our many faults and shortcomings, a life of joy after this one passes, and the amazement of a homecoming to the One we love. May we all be reminded that all earthly, yearly hopes and dreams pale in comparison to this true fulfillment of hope.
Happy 2010!

P.S. For the wonderful ladies in my life,
Have you been looking at the year ahead and wondering where the adventure will be? Where the thrills of witnessing something monumental will be? Where bonds of friendship will be strengthened and intense memories will be made?
Well, stop wondering!
For 2-3 weeks in April 2010, I plan on fulfilling one of my largest life travel ambitions: INDIA and NEPAL. I plan on flying into Delhi, spending a few days enjoying the rich colors, sounds, smells, tastes, and crowds of Indian culture, and then venturing up (likely by train) to see the Taj Mahal in Agra. From there, I would love to book a trek taking us through the natural beauty of the Himalyas (but skipping a jaunt to the top of Mount Everest-I'll leave that to professionals). With photographs in hand and memories inside, we will return home, refreshed.
WHO: You! I'm looking for adventurous women to join me in planning and executing this trip.
WHEN: Right now I'm looking at March 30-April 20, but my dates are EXTREMELY flexible
HOW MUCH: Right now flights on Kayak are running $950 round-trip including all taxes and fees. How much the rest of the trip costs would be up to use as we plan. Many guided hikes with lodging and meals included are $1000-1500 or more for 11-22 days. My plan is to experience as much as possible for as little as possible.
WHAT NEXT: If you are interested, let me know by January 15, 2010 and we will start planning. If you have any information (contacts, personal experience in India or Nepal) I'd appreciate any advice, as well.
Your journeywoman,
Dawn :)