Neurons to Cardiomyocytes

Adventures in dating from the perspective of a young physician: Lessons in swiping, sleep-deprivation, and the struggle between the brain and the heart

[neuronstocardiomyocytes]

At a cardiac arrest, the first procedure is to take your own pulse.

Samuel Shem

[neuronstocardiomyocytes]

Journey to the top

I stopped by my corner bar late last night on my way home, knowing that a former bar tender I had been friendly with (who started his own promotion company and is now in a world-touring band) was performing a set.

Our relationship has always been full of fun, facetious flirting. Tonight, immediately after his set, he ignored a couple of 20-something girls that were fawning over him and came to sit down next to me to share a drink.

Rock_Star: You know, I’ve known for a while now that we’re going to end up together.

Brunette_IM_Subspecialist: Yeah yeah, I think you’ve mentioned that before.

Rock_Star: We’re like-minded people. We’re both work-obsessed… goal oriented. It’s not until we’ve put aside everything else to achieve our goals and we’re all but dead inside that we discover the other people like us who we belong with… Also, I always wanted to raise my kids Jewish

Brunette_IM_Subspecialist: Hah you come on way stronger than I remember

Rock_Star: This?? Strong?! Pfsh… What kind of pansy-ass guys are you dating?

[neuronstocardiomyocytes]

Fountain of youth

Early in fellowship, I dated a journalist. 

He seemed to have led an exceptionally interesting life, traveling to every continent for work, telling stories that were almost too extreme to be true. A few weeks into dating, we were carded one night after ordering drinks at a bar. The bar tender smirked when he looked at our ID’s.

Brunette_IM_Subspecialist: What was that about?

Stranger_Than_Fiction: He was probably gawking at our age difference... some people can be judgmental.

Brunette_IM_Subspecialist: Weird... I guess eight years is a bit more than usual...

Stranger_Than_Fiction: Eight years? I'm sure I told you... I put down that I’m 36 on dating sites because I’m really not the kind of guy who should be dating old cat ladies and women with kids. I’m 46. But, you know, you’re a physician. You’re mature for your age. Clearly you and I make sense.

I glared at him in disbelief

Brunette_IM_Subspecialist: No... you definitely didn’t mention that. Any other small details you might have left out?

Stranger_Than_Fiction: Well, I mean, I’m not really a professional journalist, I’m an accountant... but I write a travel blog, so most of those stories are pretty much true.

Brunette_IM_Subspecialist: ... I can’t see you anymore.

Stranger_Than_Fiction: ::exploding with anger:: Who are you to judge me for exaggerating?! You look far older than any of your profile photos!

He threw his drink in my face and stormed out of the bar

[neuronstocardiomyocytes]

Pop wisdom

I was asked out by an economic analyst this weekend for a dinner date at a restaurant that he selected, close to where he lives.

He suggested that it be a “crossword puzzle date” since we both wrote that we like to do crossword puzzles on our profiles. Of note, he also wrote a lot on his profile about the importance of the sanctity of data, being an analyst. 

Before ordering, he seemed to be mulling over the menu for an exceptionally long time.

Brunette_IM_Subspecialist: Everything ok?

Data_Clasm: No... you’re going to disapprove, but I’m gluten-free, and there’s nothing on the menu that I can eat.

Brunette_IM_Subspecialist: Oh, I’m sorry [thinking to myself, “Didn’t you choose the restaurant?”]... it’s not my place to disapprove of someone having celiac disease.

Data_Clasm: Well, I suspect I do. I haven’t been tested. My great grandmother had it, so I'm sure I do too... which is why I don’t feel it’s even necessary for me to be tested for it... Well, at the very least, I definitely have legitimate gluten sensitivity.

Obviously I wasn’t going to agree with him on a topic of pseudoscience to which he ascribed adamantly, so I dropped the subject. We just ordered drinks. 

After several awkward silences, we switched to doing the crossword puzzle... I filled in the first half of it within a few minutes, pausing several times to give him a chance to interject. He contributed 4 answers, 2 of which ended up being wrong... he defensively suggested we stop doing the puzzle so he could go walk his friend’s dog...

[neuronstocardiomyocytes]

Back to the drawing board

This week’s winning messages from okcupid:

[copied and pasted directly from my inbox]

iamatif: If I was a stop light I would turn red everytime you went by so I could stare at you a little longer 

uniq1foru: You’re a beauty! Would you take my virginity?

LetsGoOutNBeFun: Pretty girl in a Darth Vader outfit, how often do guys randomly message you with an erotic asphyxiation fantasy?

Good4chun: Ctrl alt up down left right with an unlocked windows computer never gets old

10yz5x: Hey darth - any chance I could convince u to join me for a game of autoerotic asphyxation in ur costume?

tommyboy8419: Good morning :) not sure if you’d take this offensive or not but when I saw you’re pictures the name Jodi Arias [homely brunette woman who was convicted of murdering her ex-boyfriend] popped in my head haha similar looks I guess.

thrwbck77: Hello I wanted to say you are very pretty, and was wondering if you would consider yourself to be submissive? Hope to hear from you have a good day.

SoLongPhilly2: Are you open to tickling an extremely ticklish guy? Hoping to find someone who would have fun tying me down and tickling me to their heart's content, (no sex, just pure tickling).

JujiGatame11: You fall out a tree? White people...

Mikeswanderng: hey - let me put this in words i know you will understand. i am brown bear from scrubs. i say this because i am brown and i am a surgeon. i am NOT a real bear, sorry.

[neuronstocardiomyocytes]

Don’t mind me

I went on a double bowling date set up by a well-meaning former co-fellow and her boyfriend, with a guy he knew from graduate school.

I was warned that he was much older and shorter than me (I’m 5′4″), but I was definitely interested in giving him a chance given that he was a friend of a friend, and it sounded like we had quite a bit in common.

Brunette_IM_Subspecialist: I hear you like to hike… me too! Go on any good hikes recently?!

Napoleon_Complex: Nah, I don’t really hike anymore…

Silence… then, 5 minutes later:

Brunette_IM_Subspecialist: My friend mentioned that you spent a winter in France skiing. I love to ski. What was it like living there? Have you gone skiing recently?

Napoleon_Complex: It was a good way to spend a winter… I don’t really ski anymore…

Again, silence, this time turning his back to me…

Later on, I passed around a photo of my sexy Darth Vader costume from the recent Star Wars premiere.

Brunette_IM_Subspecialist: Yeah, I’m a total nerd ::smiling::

Napoleon_Complex: Oh, well, that’s ok… ::condescendingly; he quickly looked away from the photo, clearly unimpressed::  

Despite him demonstrating utter disinterest/unwillingness to engage in any conversation all night, he still asked me out on a second date… insinuating that he was doing me a favor…

[neuronstocardiomyocytes]

We are here to add what we can to life, not to get what we can from life.

William Osler

[neuronstocardiomyocytes]

Spoiler alert

During my first year of fellowship, amidst 80 hour work weeks, I tried dating a marketing guy.

He’d always had very 9-5 jobs.  He seemed to have a great deal of difficulty comprehending the sheer quantity of time I spent in the hospital, which often caused me to be out of the loop with regard to popular culture.

Without_Pity: I think I’m going to stop watching Dexter.

Brunette_IM_Subspecialist: Oh no, really?!  I finally just got to watch the first two episodes on netflix…

He cut me off

Without_Pity: Yeah, the first few seasons were amazing, right?  But everyone I know is no longer watching.  Ever since [important character] died in season 4, it’s just gone downhill.

Bastard.

[neuronstocardiomyocytes]

Better than I know myself

Last year I went on a first date with a computer science PhD student who used to work for a major credit card company.

He came across as pretty intelligent and interesting, though his manners and interpersonal skills seemed a bit poor. I had no idea just how poor, until:

Life_Hack: So what kinds of food do you like?

Brunette_IM_Subspecialist: Japanese and Mediterranean tend to be my favorites.

Life_Hack: You left out frozen yogurt.

Brunette_IM_Subspecialist: Excuse me??

Life_Hack: Well, when I was looking you up before the date, I saw that you eat a lot of frozen yogurt… a whole lot.  I’m surprised you’d leave that out.

He had actually looked up my credit card information. I felt incredibly violated, and a little terrified.  I canceled my card.  My frozen yogurt addiction, nonetheless, survived the assault. 

[neuronstocardiomyocytes]

Jeans vs. genes

This past winter, I went on a first date with a lawyer who I’d been talking to for several weeks on a dating site.

He seemed really intelligent and we had a reasonable amount in common, but very early on in the date, I noticed that he reminded me a great deal of my gay friend.  The way he talked, the way he used his hands to express everything…

Effeminate_Clerk:  I swear the bar tender could be an ass model, no?

Brunette_IM_Subspecialist:  Oh my god, you’re so right about him!… Ok, I’m really sorry to be so blunt, but are you sure you’re not gay?

Effeminate_Clerk: ::slaps my shoulder lightheartedly:: Oh, I’m sure.  I’m just extremely secure in my heterosexuality. My security lets me speak my mind openly, as with the example at hand, appreciating someone’s attention to detail in their gluteal exercises, regardless of their sex.  See, my sister’s gay, and my mom and dad got divorced ten years ago because my dad came out of the closet and got married to his partner.  First off, if I was gay, there’s no way I wouldn’t feel comfortable coming out of the closet by now.  

Valid point.

Effeminate_Clerk:  Secondly, you’re a doctor, you know that the genetic odds of parents having two gay kids is just sooo unlikely, that I couldn’t possibly be gay.

Huh?

Effeminate_Clerk:   ::clearly checking out the bar tender’s ass again:: Man, he is cut!

[neuronstocardiomyocytes]

Rear window

Before he moved out last month, I often heard the guy across the hall from me arguing loudly with his girlfriend.

He always came across as a bit creepy to me.  We had crossed paths on a dating site before he met his current girlfriend.  He had asked me out on the site, and I suggested perhaps a friendly drink some time as neighbors, but tried to be clear that I wasn’t interested in more.  One day, after a fight with his girlfriend that resulted in her dramatically storming out of the building, he texted me:

Notso_Neighborly: I saw your light on.  Want to go grab that drink?

Brunette_IM_Subspecialist: ::hesitantly, contemplating how to get out of it:: Um, maybe -- where do you usually go for a drink?  I, um, have some stuff to get done but might be able to catch up with you after.

Notso_Neighborly: Oh, I don’t drink.   My girlfriend cheated on me again.   I figured starting to drink in the company of a pretty doctor was the best way to go.

I politely declined

[neuronstocardiomyocytes]

Lucy in the sky

During fellowship, I took my gay physician friend to a speakeasy for his birthday.

As we often do, we were loudly debating appropriate management of a particular disease.  The guy next to me overheard the conversation, and we got to talking.  Turns out he works in biomedical informatics.  I gave him my number, and we ended up going on several great dates, including long talks over dinner, a museum, and even a concert.  Then, one evening at the end of dinner:

Biomedical_Enigma: I can’t see you anymore.

Brunette_IM_Subspecialist: Really?  Just like that?  I thought we were having a great time.

Biomedical_Enigma: My sentiments too, but our priorities aren’t aligned.

Brunette_IM_Subspecialist: I’m so confused.  Based on all of our conversations, we seem to be on the same page.

Biomedical_Enigma: True, and I respect you a great deal for all of your ideals. Except with the one thing that’s really most important to me.  I can’t date someone who won’t drop acid or E with me once we have intercourse.  It’s a deal-breaker.

He was dead serious.  I was speechless.  He had asked me about my perspective on drugs, but I mistook it as curiosity about patient toxicities I had observed. I hadn’t seen anything like this coming.  He stood up, put down some cash, kissed me on the cheek, and left the restaurant.

[neuronstocardiomyocytes]

Freudian slip

Some time last year, I was asked out by a chemist with two masters degrees.

I was really optimistic that we would hit it off, since we seemed to have a lot in common while texting in the couple of weeks before the date.  However, our conversation never made it as far as delighting over our common interests.

Broken_Bad:  Before the date begins, I just wanted to put it out there for good measure – I finalized my divorce from a five year marriage about two months ago.  

That’s ok, I thought.  Not a deal-breaker.

Broken_Bad:  I’ve been dealing well with things, though it makes it harder that we work in the same lab…

Forty minutes passed, and he just continued like a faucet.  My only contribution was a few brief words of sympathy.

Broken_Bad: … and then she made eye contact with me, and I hoped that she was coming over to ask how I was doing.  I wanted nothing more than to talk to her about my brother’s recent re-imprisonment for dealing drugs.  Ugh, I’m so sorry, that’s really too much information, I shouldn’t have brought up that last part.  Goodness, you’re really easy to talk to.  You’re a doctor, I feel like you should be charging me by the hour.

[neuronstocardiomyocytes]

Up tempo

Last winter, I went on a first date with a music PhD student.

The date wasn’t bad, but was nothing special.  It ended with an awkward hug.  We didn’t have anything in common, but he seemed like a nice enough guy.  I figured there was no reason not to go on a second date if I ever heard from him again.

He texted me at 2 am, three hours after the date had ended:

B_Flat: Hey!  I just can’t stop thinking about how great tonight was.  Looking forward to seeing you again! 😘

I slept through the text, and was running late for rounds in the morning so I didn’t have a chance to process it, nonetheless reply.  Some time around 8 am:

B_Flat:  Are you free tomorrow night?

B_Flat:  Let’s plan to do something tomorrow night.

B_Flat:   Do you like wine? We can check out that wine bar downtown!

B_Flat:  If you’re not free tomorrow night, I can do the following night, or Saturday night…

There were about six more texts along those lines.  Then, around 10 am:

B_Flat:  Hey - did I do something to offend you?  I really thought we made a special bond last night, and I don’t want to mess things up.

Ten minutes later:

B_Flat:   Are you ok???

I finished rounds about twenty minutes later, and saw all of the missed messages.  I swiped open my phone, and the web browser happened to be open to the dating website we had met on.  He had viewed my profile 18 times since the evening before.

[neuronstocardiomyocytes]

Damn unicorns

In talking about his imminent move to a different city:

(see prior Smart_Ass post for backstory)

Smart_Ass: You realize you’re going to sign onto Tinder the second I leave, and you’ll be married and knocked up within a year.

Brunette_IM_Subspecialist: ::I punched him in the arm:: You know I’m not looking to get “married and knocked up within a year.” If that happens, fine, but I’d kill to find someone I’ve got chemistry with… even better, someone I can hike Patagonia with while tossing around sarcastic remarks and discussing pharmacokinetics… then debate about everything from Marxism to psychohistory to Larry David later that night over whiskey.  Until you got into my head, I was pretty convinced that couldn’t exist.

Smart_Ass: There’s no way that guys like me are that hard to come by.  You just need to go on more dates.

Brunette_IM_Subspecialist:  You have no idea… man, you’re gonna have a field day with all of the pseudo-intellectual hipsters where you’re moving.

Smart_Ass: ::huge goofy grin:: I KNOW

Brunette_IM_Subspecialist:  Just make sure you get regular STD testing… no matter what they tell you, vegan lambskin condoms are not a thing.

[neuronstocardiomyocytes]

Island of misfit toys

I went on a few dates with a surgery resident. 

It was around the time of my subspecialty boards and giving my first Grand Rounds after graduating from fellowship, and I was pretty stressed.  But he was really cultured and seemed really sweet (the antithesis of surgery stereotypes), and I felt as though he was worth finding time for amidst the chaos.  

One night, walking home from a great dinner:

Brunette_IM_Subspecialist:  How did you end up in surgery?  How does someone like you fit in with all of the pissing contests and egos?

Measure_Twice:  To be honest, I love the precision and finesse of it, but I often feel like a lost soul.

I didn’t hear from him for the next week.  I figured he was ghosting.  Then, on my way home the next Saturday night, I actually bumped into him while he was standing on a street corner with a group of guys, all wearing scrubs.

Measure_Twice:  Brunette_IM_Subspecialist!! ::his eyes lit up; he kissed me enthusiastically on the mouth and put his arm around me::  Hey guys, this is the girl I’m seeing.  She’s an IM subspecialty attending!

He introduced me to every guy there and ardently convinced me to hang out with them for the rest of the night, frequently mentioning my status as an attending.  I texted him the next day thanking him for the drinks and asking when he was free to hang out again.  I never heard from him again.

[neuronstocardiomyocytes]

On a pedestal

I went for a beer this weekend with a business guy.  

He spent the entirety of the date talking about himself, going into extreme detail about the monotony of his job and a friend’s recent bachelor party.  He never paused to ask me a single question about myself.  I tried to squeeze in relevant comments or stories (including when a coworker of mine came over to say hi), but he acted extremely disinterested and immediately took the conversation back to himself.  The first acknowledgement he made of my presence:

Strictly_Soliloquy:  Oh! I meant to ask your thoughts on this – my primary thinks I need to be on a statin, but I think I’m way too young to need one – would you start someone my age on a statin for an LDL of…?

He hardly let me give a brief response before cutting in and continuing with his monologue.