Diarrhea

Today my Medical School Applications professor persuaded me to tell a story about a time I got severe diarrhea, which I told in front of an auditorium of pre-med students.  I would venture to say that is the strangest way I have ever contributed to a class discussion.

We were assigned to construct a true story from our lives which illustrates our perseverance, which will later be incorporated into a Personal Statement, which goes off into your first round of applications to the AAMC.  I thought about the time I went to Sonora, Mexico to build a house for Adrian, an impoverished ex-luchador who was trying to take care of his wife and kids in the slums of Obregon.  More stuff about that can be found here and here.

Anyways, on Wednesday night (the night before Thanksgiving), we ate our traditional Mexican hot dogs:

Oh man, they are so good.  I ate a couple, which were indescribably delicious, and also which gave me some explosive diarrhea.  haha.  I spent the next day helping to build Adrian's house, with some fun little stops to the backyard chicken coop for some private "emergency business." Even better, later that night at a Thanksgiving Celebration, I was trying so hard not to laugh when in danger of pooping myself as I shook the hand of the Governor.  It was so hilarious.

Life is a sweet experience, as long as you can learn to laugh at yourself.  Speaking of which, while writing this blog in my History of Creativity Class, Professor Strong (also hilarious) has been dancing like a ballerina, tromping around like Attila the Hun, and impersonating a chicken to the music of Beethoven and Haydn.