Over the weekend, I got to speak with one of my dearest friends
for the first time in two years. She has been living in South Korea
with her husband where they both work as teachers. Sara and I met
when we studied abroad in Australia 8 years ago. In the years since
then, I've been the lucky recipient of many visits from Sara and
her husband wherever I've lived, all over the country. I have
totally reaped the benefits of their summer vacations as teachers.
This time, they are in the U.S. for a few weeks seeing family and I
am so excited to pay them a visit in Michigan next weekend! It's my
turn to make the trip to visit them.
When Sara came to visit in me in Truckee/Tahoe.
One of the most important reasons I moved out west from New
England after college (where I subsequently decided on naturopathic
medicine as a career), was based on my experience of studying
abroad in Australia with Sara. While studying on the other side of
the globe, I met so many Americans who hailed from all the very
different parts of the United States. I realized that I, an East
Coast girl, was so different from those girls from the Midwest, or
those girls from Southern California. We all came from very
different American backgrounds, and yet these Australians, as well
as all the other foreigners we met while out exploring, grouped me
in with all the others. I was just another American girl to
Adventuring in Australia -- getting inspired to explore my own
On account of this, I decided I had better go figure out what
the rest of my country was like before I went travelling abroad
again. While we all had some American patriotism and our language
in common, I felt so different from so many of my countrywomen. I
wanted to know what assumptions people might be making about me
based on some other Americans they'd met who, as far as I could
tell, were nearly as different from me as the Australian girls
were, or the Germans.
Now that I can see the light at the end of the medical school
tunnel, I am starting to think about where to explore next. I think
I have a pretty good handle on what an "American girl" is, based on
my experiences living around the country, so perhaps it's time to
head into foreign lands!
Between binge-watching Anthony Bourdain episodes, perusing
photographs of far away places on BuzzFeed, and reminiscing about
our travels of the past, Hanzi and I have caught the travel bug. We
regularly toss around the idea of living and working in another
country, and have even set some lofty goals of learning a foreign
language before we graduate with our respective master's and
doctorate degrees (we haven't made any headway on this, yet). Even
if we don't make it out of the country, we are ready to explore
another region... perhaps Alaska, or Montana, or Maine...
Of course, I also have to think about actual employment after
graduation, and for the record, I am equally excited to work as a
doctor as I am to see new places. If you're like me and think you
might want to explore, either now or later on, keep these resources
in mind. There are several networks for naturopathic doctors around
the world. Several of my friends at NUHS have traveled to work with
Naturopaths Without Borders during their breaks between
trimesters. My peers have returned with totally awesome stories of
hands-on experience treating patients, living in rural areas,
assisting in the delivery of babies by flashlight, and connecting
with local people whose worlds are so very different from ours.
In addition to delivering care to the underserved abroad,
naturopathic medicine is going global with the recent creation of
Naturopathic Federation in 2014. This organization connects
naturopathic doctors in 40 countries around the world, and
endeavors to connect our work with that of the World Health
Organization. We might be a small population here in the United
States, but we are also out there, all over the world, sharing and
advancing our medicine!
It's pouring rain right now. Our basement is probably flooding,
slowly. But all that water coming down makes for crisp, clean air!
*Takes deep breath in...*
A few weeks ago I read the abstract to a scientific paper out of
Australia that aimed to quantify the effect of exposure to nature
on participants' health, and to identify an ideal dosage of nature.
The conclusion was alarmingly reductionist. How many trees should
we plant on the roadsides in order to make people less stressed?
How can we manipulate nature in order to best serve our health
A winding path
A practice called Forest Bathing started in Japan in the 1980s.
It was developed as a treatment to relieve stress. Newer studies
have recognized that a consciously meditative walk in the woods can
boost the immune system by increasing natural killer cells. One set
of guidelines on Forest Bathing suggests you spend 3 days and 2
nights in the woods if you really want to boost your immunity.
Otherwise, you may choose to spend just one day Forest Bathing to
Hanzi and me, out for a walk in the woods
Hanzi and I went for an extremely rejuvenating walk in the woods
the other day. Relationships always take work, and my relationship
takes extra work because I'm in medical school. We brought our
cameras and our rain jackets, but nothing else. There is a trail
that ducks off into the trees that I noticed when I first started
commuting by train. I keep meaning to go find it, and we finally
did. It was a rainy day, and cool. The forest was especially green
and fragrant. We encountered two yearling deer; they were
definitely curious and not afraid of us at all. We hung out in
their presence for a few minutes while they devoured low-growing
plants and watched us curiously through their sparkly black eyes.
Hanzi and I chose to move on first; we left them to their
And when it rained and poured we went for some pseudo-nature
at the climbing gym
I found an article written a few years ago by our newest
clinician Dr. Denis Marier titled, "Ecotherapy: Embodying the
Vis Medicatrix Naturae in Clinical Practice." In it, Dr.
Marier writes about the relevance and importance of incorporating
nature into naturopathic care. I love the idea of taking a "Natural
History" with each patient in an effort to understand the patient's
exposure to and experience with the natural world. Naturopathic
doctors believe in working with the Vis, or that
healing power of nature "which always endeavors to repair, heal,
and to restore." This is evidenced in those walk-in-the-woods
smells of new greenery, the mud and wet grass, and damp rotting
wood. The natural world turns over, heals itself. So too, do
humans, who are just as much a part of nature as new leaves,
mushrooms, and rotting stumps.
Besides going out to seek nature, I am particularly fond of Dr.
Marier's idea of "naturalizing a part of your clinic grounds." Even
a city office can be naturalized with potted plants and fresh air.
One aspect of my vision for my future practice includes an outdoor
space where I can consult with patients. In his piece, Dr. Marier
also suggests assigning a Medicine/Nature Walk, which he describes
as a 3-6 hour fast from food, people, and electronics. He
encourages patients to notice how they are observed by nature,
rather than focusing only on their subjective experience. This
makes me think of the deer on my walk the other day; they were so
curious! I was observed. And I observed, too.
Ugh, guys and gals, it's been a tri! I'm sitting here trying to
bang out a meaningful blog post for my loyal readers and... turns
out the only thing I can focus on is that I am surrounded by three
loads of unfolded laundry (clean at least, thank goodness) and
that's just the start of what's not getting done around here...
My mom would be mad -- sitting in my messy room, mustering
energy to do lots of things.
What week in the tri is it? I keep trying to write a comment
about it being "that week" of the tri, and to quote my fellow ND
student friend Wendy, "I just can't even." I keep telling myself
that taking boards in week 4 or 5 (or whenever that was) is why I'm
all out of sorts, but really, it's just that med school is med
school is med school, and there's just no changing that.
Classic medical student portrait -- sleepy and
In the summer I wrote about the unbeautiful part of being a
naturopathic medical student. That was the last time I had ice
cream for dinner and even though it's not exactly ice cream
weather, tonight's lookin' like its time for a repeat.
Enough complaining! What I HAVE managed to do lately is this: I
get out of bed every morning! I put on clothes, and I think I
always look presentable, if maybe, occasionally, a little weird.
Each morning I succeed in making myself coffee, and if I had a "To
Do List," I would almost always put a satisfying check next to
"make breakfast." But, it's a good day if I manage to actually eat
the breakfast without also doing two other things simultaneously;
I'm usually taking bites between packing a lunch and scrambling to
gather up all my things.
I can say with confidence that each weekday I make it to campus!
Yes! I am proud to say that I stay awake in class, and I almost
always know which room I'm supposed to be in, and when. Also, I
generally always know what's going on in lecture, although... I
have my days.
Today, when taking a blood pressure I struggled to multiply 17
by 4. It's OK, not all doctors can do math every single time,
Some days seem unbelievably long, and others I just wish, wish,
wish could extend by just an hour or two! If you had an extra hour
in the day, what would you do with it? I used to say, "Yoga!" Now,
I would sleep. I would definitely sleep. I used to think sleeping
was for the faint of heart. I'm not sure anyone could get through a
medical education without a strong heart, and so, my views have
Speaking of strong hearts, I am surrounded by them and
Hallelujah! If it weren't for my friend Blaine's reliable punchy
sarcasm, Wendy's big grin and occasional colorful language, Tina's
quick laugh, Mallory's eager smile, Abdulla's kind eyes, Lisa's
happy conversation, and Brad's constant confidence, I might have
imploded by now. And these are only the people I see the most
often! I have so many other fellow student friends who keep me
laughing, who commiserate with me, and who help me talk through my
thoughts everyday. Thank you all! You guys rock.
Sigh. Thank you for reading about my blunders and my teeny, tiny
daily successes. Now I think its time for that ice cream
I spend a lot of time looking at the sky. When I lived in the
West, I realized that a big sky makes me feel that anything is
possible and that I can never understand it all. I adore this
feeling. I desire to be outside of my comfort zone as often as
possible; so much so that at times I've had to give up and retreat
to calmer waters.
I spend a lot of time looking at the sky. Sunrise on my
morning commute last week.
On a long weekend during my first year at NUHS, before the
program had a chance to wear me thin, my partner and I set out on a
camping and fishing trip to Wisconsin's driftless region. We
meandered through farmland and found our camping spot as the clouds
were gathering, no big deal. We'd once tried to camp at Vedauwoo
near Laramie, Wyoming, in late October with a wicked, biting wind
that threatened both to snow and to overturn our tent. When we
realized they'd shut off the water and closed up all facilities for
the season, we gave up.
My partner Hanzi tying flies at our kitchen table over the
weekend, caused this story to surface.
On this particular trip in Wisconsin, we made dinner over our
camp stove as the rain picked up. We ate our rice and beans on the
tailgate to stay dry. As the downpour intensified, we climbed into
our tent earlier than expected and snuggled into the center, trying
not to touch the wet walls.
At 1 a.m., the 5th drop of water landed on my face and I
realized my sleeping bag was totally soaked; our tent was no longer
waterproof and the Midwestern thunderstorm was still raging. Soaked
and sleepy, we sloppily disassembled our tent and crammed all the
sopping wet sleeping stuff into the trunk and slunk out of the
campsite, our tails between our legs.
The fishing the next day was terrible. The streams ran high
with mud. You can see our soaking wet camping gear piled in
We drove a wide-open rural highway with lightning cracking all
around us in the longest, loudest and most spectacular streaks I've
ever seen. This was some thunderstorm! If you've never experienced
one, do come study naturopathic medicine at National. If you've not
chosen our school for the strong philosophy and awesome
collaborative learning environment, then do at least choose it for
After a drive through the downpour and lightning, we checked
into the only room left at the nearest hotel, a suite with a hot
tub in the corner and the fluffiest king size bed ever (save for
that one that enveloped me during that bout of food-poisoning I got
in Banff, Canada after eating scrambled eggs at the airport. Don't
ever eat scrambled eggs at the airport.)
When you're in medical school, you pretty much can't do these
adventurous, uncalculated things. They squash that tendency to toss
logical thinking to the wind (like setting up camp in the midst of
a deluge) in the process of teaching us to be responsible doctors.
I don't mean my professors tell me to stay out of the rain. I mean
that medical school in general takes you away from the fun stuff by
sucking you dry of energy and sitting you down for some serious
business. It's all worth it though, I promise.
I may not be able to adventure, but I guess my education does
cause me to constantly move beyond my comfort zone. Each new class
I take demands that I commit to memory information I've never known
before. When I see a sim patient, I have no idea what to expect and
have to dive in ready to grapple with whatever story they tell me.
This is undoubtedly like the real world of doctoring and so I rest
assured; I totally AM in the right place.... If doctoring is a
process of continually stepping out of your comfort zone while
seeking the patterns that help you find your way to healing a
patient, then I think I'm on to something.
Really though, I already knew I was in the right place before
writing this rambling essay on thunderstorms and airport eggs and
squished adventures. I came to naturopathic medicine because I
thrive on the different stuff. Our medicine is not well known but
it is intelligent. Our medicine is not entirely understood in
reductionist terms, but it works from a place of truth. Camping in
the rain is not a comfortable choice, but it does make for a good
Here I sit, on a plane bound for Chicago after a weekend on the
East Coast, listening to the air from the blower overhead and the
rushing outside the window as we taxi. The deicers blast the window
inches from my face with a heavy spattering sound. The engines roar
a little louder and I think of the rattle my cousin's smiling,
blonde 1-year-old used to fill my ears this morning.
At this past week's Nu Delta Sigma meeting, Nadene introduced us
to sound healing as presented in the book, "Tuning the Human
Biofield," by Eileen McKusick. I was the lucky recipient of a sound
experiment from my friend John, a brilliant healer and
doctor-in-the-making. You might call us crazy, but when was the
last time you checked in with the sounds in your life? It had been
a while for me.
The sim patient I saw this week in my Advanced Clinical Problem
Solving class complained of tinnitus, a rushing sound in his ears,
and was nearly deaf. This was the only abnormal finding on physical
exam as we searched for clues to the cause of his dizzy, vomiting
spells. When I made kale for dinner on Wednesday night, the leaves
squeaked when I stripped them off their stalks. The sound reminded
me of lemons and a crisp, cold, clear evening with a sky full of
stars, when the frozen snow sings underfoot.
So excited to be out skiing in celebration of one of my very
(She taught me to suck my thumb when I was 2.)
When I rode the chairlift at Cranmore Mountain in New Hampshire
with my childhood friends over the weekend, the chairs clunked as
only chairlift chairs do each time you reach a tower. I reveled in
the swish of skis and the crunch-pop of poles into snow, the whoosh
and shudder of skiers of various skill levels as they rocket
downhill beside you. There were also those split seconds of silence
when I caught a little air and my skis left the snow, allowing me
to hear only the wind in my ears.
Beautiful bluebird day in the White Mountains! There are my
friends, waving at me from the lift.
On Sunday morning, I listened to the coffee maker grumble and
splurt that divine bitter stuff into the pot. The bottle of
champagne made an adorable pop! And we toasted our friend, a
bride-to-be. We thanked her for bringing together such an
intelligent, fun, active and clever group of young women. Our
glasses clinked! I am back at school now, refreshed and
All the lovely, intelligent women in our PJs, toasting our
So now I sit here typing, my fingers trickling across the keys
making that distinct blipping sound with each letter. I spend so
much time using my eyes and my hands to observe and palpate in
medicine, but I haven't engaged nearly enough with my ears. The
more blood pressures I take and the more lungs I auscultate, the
more familiar those healthy sounds become. I listen to the normal
sounds in hopes that I'll recognize when they are different, when
the lungs pop or crackle or gurgle and tell me something about the
environment inside my patient.
• Leaves, Flowers, Berries, and Bark
• Farmer's Market
• Should I Study Massage Therapy, Too?
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