This is our fifth annual excursion to Nick's wife Katie's family cottage on Blueberry Island. It is a yearly tradition, filled with smaller traditions.

Tradition #1: Lunch at Culver's in Valparaiso.

Nick and I got there a little early, so we waited outside for the other dudes.

Nick: Is that Dick Van Dyke eating lunch inside?
Me: Yeah, I think so. It looks just like him.
Nick: Hmm. Diagnosis Burger.

Tomorrow we embark on our yearly trip to Blueberry Island, on beautiful Lake Dewart in Northern Indiana. I took my car in today to get the emissions something something fixed, and to get new brakes. $983 later, I can rest assured that my car will not emit illegal quantities of pollutants or go careening off the Skyway.

We played Whirlyball in honor of Kate's (my boss at the College of Nursing) last day. She is moving to Minnesota with her family, and will be missed in the Office of Academic Programs.

As many times as I have played Whirlyball, I should be a lot better than I am. But that's the wonderful thing about a game in which you drive a bumper car and fling a wiffle ball into a hole; nobody is going to be very good at it. Except Grant, the IT guy. He was kind of a natural.

This car was parked in front of my building.

Apparently the committee in charge of approving license plates at the Wisconsin Department of Transportation needs to update their database of questionable words and expressions.

Julie and I went to Winnemac Park this afternoon. After strolling through the prairie path and buying ice cream from the two obviously stoned high school students at the little cafe, we went and sat under a willow tree to decide what movie to see. I was a little creeped out by the wicker Blair Witch symbol nestled in a low crook of the tree, but nothing bad happened to us other than a brief stalemate over what time to see The Dark Knight.

We had an end of school celebration at Moonshine. Usually I am reluctant to venture out of my comfort neighborhoods, but I was kind of excited to brave the streets of Wicker Park. Despite the almost exclusiveley negative reviews on Metromix, I had a good time and thought the bar was all right.

We were all in excellent spirits, happy to be done with what will probably be the worst semester of our program. I have nothing but fun things to look forward to until August 25th when we go back.

Two finals down, one to go. The academic portions of this semester have been kind of crappy, the clinical experiences great. Tonight I took the online final for Community Health, so far my least favorite class.

Almost all of our books have electronic versions that are downloaded to our computers. Initially I didn't think I would ever use this feature, but it comes in quite handy, especially when you have a three hour open book exam, and will rely heavily on the "Search" function because you didn't read all of the boring material you were supposed to.

For our last day at Sinai, we brought donuts and Mexican pastries and bagels and yogurt and coffee for the nurses on the floor. This picture of Conan (my favorite nurse there) partaking in our feast was captured at the end of the day after the spread was much less impressive.

I was floated to the ED again today, and it was much busier than yesterday. There was a young man there who had shot himself in the head, awaiting decisions to be made regarding organ donation. The nurse I was shadowing encouraged me to come with her and the doctor to talk to the family about their options, but I chickened out. I know soon I will be there during some of the worst moments for a family, but I wasn't ready yet.

Later, his heart stopped beating, and my nurse told me to put on some gloves and start chest compressions. Just as I had gotten the gloves on and was going to take over compressions, the transplant surgeon came in and told us to stop. Everyone immediately stopped what they were doing, the doctor determined the time of death, and everybody went about their business. Out of the experiences I have had so far, this most closely matched what you would see on TV. The eeriest part of the whole thing was watching his chest rise and fall as the ventilator kept breathing for him after he had died. And the fly that kept trying to crawl into his mouth.

Today I got to float down to the Emergency Department. I'm not sure when things switched from ER to ED, but the latter is now preferred.

A few nurses apologized to me because it was a slow day, not many traumas. Sinai is one of just a few Level 1 Trauma Centers in the city, so they are usually a very busy ED. All of my classmates have had great experiences there because the nurses are good teachers and seem to enjoy their work. My time there was no different.

The nurse I was shadowing let me start my first IV. I got it on the first try, which was a relief. Thankfully it was a tiny woman with veins like ropes, otherwise I may not have been as successful.

The Human Resources Department at Mt. Sinai had a recruitment lunch for us, and gave us cloth bags with a few Sinai-embossed tchotchkes. The heads of various hospital departments were there to tell us why we should work at Sinai when we are done with school. Based on my experiences there, I had already decided it would be a good place to work. If I hadn't, though, a roast beef sandwich and cookie might have convinced me.

I have never been in profession in which I was recruited. It was pretty cool.

During the middle of the wedding service I looked over and noticed Ronald Reagan and friends smiling at me. I hope someday I am important enough that my stained glass likeness will grace the First Presbyterian Church of Brighton, or any building for that matter.

Julie's sister Colleen and brother-in-law Marc live in Ann Arbor, so we stopped in on the way back to Chicago. We had a wonderful lunch, and their kids gave us many tattoos at the tattoo parlor they had set up in the living room. I felt bad removing the Shrek and princess peacock tats when I got home, but they were inappropriate for an academic and professional setting.

I had never seen the University of Michigan, so we decided to drive around for a little while. Kate and I, as good Illini, were going to drop a deuce on some sacred spot on the campus, but we didn't really know where to do it. It is a beautiful place, which maybe explains why most U of M grads I have met have the tendency to be such pompous a-holes when they talk about their school. Even the University cop who pulled me over was a jerk.

Cop: (angry and sarcastic) Is there a reason you're going the wrong way down a one-way street?

Me: There are a bunch of firetrucks up ahead, and there wasn't any other way to go.

Me (in my mind): You dickhead. Can't you see that there are multiple firetrucks behind me about 100 yards away responding to an emergency, blocking all routes of escape except for the one I am currently driving? Can you see the people behind me doing the same thing? If you were directing traffic like you should be, I never would have turned onto this street, so maybe you should get a clue and coordinate emergency response efforts with the fire department to ensure public safety instead of flaunting your authority over the proactive approach I took toward DRIVING AWAY FROM THE BOMB THREAT/CHEMICAL SPILL/DISEASED RESEARCH MONKEY ESCAPE THAT IS CURRENTLY HAPPENING WITHIN AN ELITE NFL QUARTERBACK'S THROWING DISTANCE OF US.

Cop: (beginning to realize he is an idiot) Well, next time don't do it again.

Me: Idiot.

I drove to Brighton, Michigan today with Julie, Kathryn, Kate, and Khushali for Colleen and Jon's wedding. They held the reception in the bowling alley/restaurant where they either first met or went on their first date or fell in love or something, I don't remember which. They are moving to Boston in a few weeks, where Colleen is attending Harvard for dental school.

I wasn't sure how I would feel about a wedding reception without a sanctioned dance floor, but it was super fun. And they had Bell's as part of the drink package, which made this Illinoisan very happy. I bowled a 168 in my second game thanks to the defective lane that would often reward me with three chances per frame.

I am officially putting this on my list of favorite weddings. Well done, Colleen and Jon.

One thing I admire about pigeons, and all animals with lateral eye placement, is their vigilance. You can only sneak up on a pigeon if it lets you.

This poor specimen was found in the bus lane at the Howard Station. I refuse to believe that it got leveled by a vehicle. How can such an alert, intelligent animal not get out of the way of a lumbering CTA accordion bus? I like to think that it died pushing a sparrow out of the way, sacrificing itself for the lesser of two invasive species.

Mt. Sinai has the second busiest Labor and Delivery unit in Chicago; we toured these floors today. We got to go into a room where babies were being warmed and fed and held. I generally don't react that strongly to babies, but their newness and cuteness pulled at a tiny part of my heart.

Next semester we do our Pediatrics, Mental Health, and OB rotations. I am excited about all of these.

Today Jackie had a patient that went into respiratory distress because of an air embolism that had travelled to his lungs. He was extremely lucky that she was in the room with him, as he would have probably died. She hit the button on the wall that signalled the rapid response team, and they stabilized him and brought him to the ICU.

When I first started this, I was tentative, almost apologetic to patients for saddling them with a student nurse. I quickly changed my tune after I realized how lucky they are to have us, how much more attention and quality care they get when we are there. I may not have saved a life today, but my patient was fortunate I was around to get him syrup for his french toast; he certainly seemed to think it was a matter of life or death,

Every morning before report we spend quiet time looking up medications on our PDAs.

Before we started last Spring, I was skeptical about the technology requirements, assuming they would make us buy a bunch of stuff we would never use. We use the PDAs all the time; the digital Davis Drug Guide has become my friend.

This morning I had my appointment at the GI clinic. I have been looking forward to finally finding out if there's anything wrong with me. I have also been dreading it because of the certainty of getting a rectal exam.

After the doctor put his finger in my butt, he scheduled me for a flexible sigmoidoscopy in September. He said I'm probably fine, but he just wants to be sure by snaking a tube with a camera on it into my colon. Awesome.

Many GTB parties also involve some sort of project. Shawn spent most of the night constructing a coconut bra for a luau later that evening. It turned out really nice.

I took a trip West to Genoa for a joint Kusch/Armand birthday party. They are the ones wearing T-shirts with pictures of themselves, and are easily the two tallest people I know.

My college/Chicago friends call my high school friends "the GTBs", which stands for "Good Time Buddies". They claim I have more fun with the GTBs, and tend to get a little crazier with them. The latter may be true, but I have an equal amount of fun with all of my friends.

Quite often with the GTBs, a conga line will spontaneously begin. This one snaked around the yard for a couple songs, then just as quickly dissipated into the cool country night.

After the Diplomat Motel show, me and Arnie and Sarah had a few tallboys in Wrigleyville. They have gotten pretty good at talking me into doing fun things instead of being a student.

The Dugout is a gross bar, but much cleaner than you would expect. They also have a designated Beer Pong area in the back that looks like a real live frathouse basement.

As part of our clinical experience, we get a couple days to float to other areas of the hospital, such as the Emergency Department, Surgical ICU, and Outpatient Chemotherapy Unit.

Today Christina was in the ED when paramedics brought in a man who had collapsed. His heart had stopped by the time he got there. In an attempt to utilize all hands, Christina was told to perform chest compressions as part of the CPR measures. Despite their best efforts, the man died. I may be working in an ED some day, so I look forward to visiting in a couple weeks, but I will probably hide in the bathroom when the first ambulance rolls up.

While all this was happening, I was cleaning my first colostomy bag. I didn't think anything could be grosser than yesterday's vomit, but I was wrong. The smell was completely overwhelming; it haunts me still.

Today I experienced my first major patient emesis at the hospital. For those who don't know emesis = barf. I wanted to take a picture of the full cup of greenish biley vomit, but I was too busy dry heaving and running to the bathroom to dispose of it. I don't think the patient saw me heaving, which is good, but the fact that I was having trouble scares me a bit. I have a lot of barf in my future, and I hope I'm better able to handle it next time.

Nick took Trupe and I to the Cubs game, where Trupe did a victory robot to "Go Cubs Go", quite possibly the nerdiest song ever written. The song was also played at the wedding last weekend after the DJs announced that the Cubs had just beaten the Cardinals. We danced like idiots, much to the chagrin of the table full of St. Louisians.

Today was the first day at Mt. Sinai. I have been out of the hospital for almost two months; it was intimidating going back, wondering if I had forgotten everything I learned.

My first patient was the best I could have had on the first day. He was a very nice elderly man who had a couple tumors removed from his neck. I got to accompany him to the ENT clinic, where the doctor removed his trachostomy tube; it had been in for 7 months. Before that, he could talk only when he put his finger over the trach tube. He was very happy after getting it out, because he could speak without effort. He spent the rest of the day cruising the floor flirting with all the nurses.

After the first couple hours I got my hospital legs back, and did a pretty good job. By next May I hope to be able to walk into a patient's room and proclaim, "Behold, I will heal thee." Or at least, "Hey, there's a better than 90% chance I won't kill thee."

This bobble-headed sentry owl stands guard over my parents' house, protecting it from birds and ground squirrels alike. When I got home the other night, I was quite startled; it's pretty terrifying.

I have two tests tomorrow and a paper due, but Arnie still talked me into seeing Wanted with he and Sarah. A large part of his success was the voicemail he left me: "Meador. You've led an ordinary life up until this point, but I'm calling to tell you that you are really part of a secret society of assassins. It is up to you to decide whether to embrace this life or stay with the empty life you have. Your orientation film will be showing at the Evanston theater at 1:20." This picture was taken just before Sarah assassinated Arnie in the theater.

There is an internal clock somewhere in my brain that knows exactly how much time it will take to complete academic tasks. It allows me to participate in procrastinatory activities, but still know that everything will get done. Today my clock told me that I could see a dumb action movie and still be successful, so I listened.

I almost killed Julie and I on the way to my parents' house this morning. I was enjoying a beautiful Saturday morning, thinking about fun from the night before, when I blew a stop sign and flew across Illinois 72 on Walker Road going about 60 mph. I am usually a very good driver, but today I made a really stupid mistake. Julie said don't worry about it, but I think I'll be shaken up for a while.

This would have been the last picture ever taken of us. I promise to be nothing less than vigilant for the rest of my driving days. I will also go no faster than 40.

Ryan and Sarah's wedding was super fun. Everyone was handsome and beautiful and drunk. And once the DJ pulled his head out of his ass and played some Michael Jackson, the party really took off.

I was concerned about melting at an outdoor Fourth of July wedding, but everything worked out because I got to sit in the shade on the groom's side. Poor suckers across the aisle must have been dying.

Our clinical instructor is on vacation all week, so we got our alloted days off at the beginning of the clinical rotation. It was perfect timing, as I got to play golf in Geneva as part of my friend Ryan's pre-wedding celebration.

Even with Shawn giving me a wide putting lane on multiple greens, I still couldn't get it together. I think I three-putted at least 15 holes.

Mike, my pool captain, lives above the Ten Cat. He had a BBQ tonight to celebrate and choose the team shirts for Vegas.

We picked a classic black and grey bowling number, embroidery to be determined. Debbie insisted that we make up nicknames for the shirts. I tried to explain to her that you can't just pick a nickname, that it has to occur naturally. The majority decided against, 5-2, although I did kind of like "Sweaty" as my new pool identity.

I have been forgetting my camera a lot lately, so I had to pull a picture from the archives.

I don't remember this woman's name, but I proclaim her the best bartender in Peoria. She also gets runner-up for best mullet, which in P-town is quite an honor.