Adopting a new route (literally and figuratively)

I must admit to douple-dipping here. I also blog for the U of Minnesota School of Public Health and try not to reuse stuff here, but this post sums up a lot of what I'm thinking about lately -- and something I think a lot of healthcare workers and workers-to-be think about. Enjoy!

In an attempt to wimp out of as much Minnesota winter as possible, I spent from about November (OK, maybe October) onward on a quest to discover the least painful way to get from my parking lot at the U to the Mayo building, where most of my classes are.

I experimented with zipping up the hood, pulling the hands into the sleeves and booking it as quickly and directly as possible. Too cold.

I tried tunneling through Moos Towers. Too confusing. And depressing underground. And HOT with all my snow gear.

One day, realizing it was the absolute closest big building to the parking lot, I busted into the hospital and figured I’d find myself to class in Mayo somehow. And I did. And it wasn’t confusing. Or cold. Or hot. Or underground. So I adopted that as my route.

One day this week, as I went through the giant revolving door, waved at the valet parking guys, smiled at the front desk attendant and said hi to the gift shop clerk, I realized something: It’s not winter anymore. It was 82 degrees yesterday. The outdoor route from parking to Mayo is much shorter than trekking through the hospital. Why am I still doing it?

Habit, probably, to some degree. But when I really thought about it, I had a dorky revelation. I like the hospital! I like the people! I like the patients! And I haven’t had enough of that in my life lately.

I am absolutely a people person. I have been told more than once that there’s just something about me that makes all kinds of people want to tell me their life stories. Trust me, it’s not always a good thing. Sure, it’s great in the journalistic part of my life – but, um, think for a second about when I’m stuck in the window seat on a plane with a 60-something couple who just must tell me every detail of their son’s destination wedding, a person I don’t recognize from my hometown wanting to catch me up on small-town gossip or a sleep-meds-and-alcohol-mixing soldier returning from a deployment who probably violated many, many confidentiality rules.

But I won’t lie, I even enjoyed (a small part of) those conversations because I just love people. So I go through the hospital a few times a week with a big grin on my face, and people grin back. I see a lot of stuff that one might not grin at – especially because it’s also a children’s hospital – but really, if those kids and their families need anything, it’s a smile.

Yesterday during my little smile parade, I realized how much I miss working directly with people. I’m loving my public health program and the opportunity that gives me to affect change on a higher level, from that upstream perspective. I think ultimately that’s where I want to be.

But without knowing, I think I’ve been reflecting a lot this semester and realizing that I can’t let go of the direct contact with people this easily. It keeps me grounded, reminds me why I’m doing what I’m doing and makes me smile – all of which are absolutely critical, I think, to be successful.

When I meet with kids and their families through Make-A-Wish (where I volunteer), I have a very distinct sense of satisfaction of helping that child and that family in that moment, and I think that’s something I need more of in my life right now.

Funny how it took me a year of loving population-level studies and work to realize how much I love working with people one-on-one. But I’m glad I realized it! I’m going to spend the summer figuring out how to work more of it into my life – mentoring a child, tutoring an adult in English, distributing goods for the food shelf, anything.

And I’ll probably keep walking through the hospital.

A little perspective for your Monday

I always appreciate - and stumble across - little reminders like this when I'm about to enter a super-high-stress week (that will definitely be followed by a few more). Enjoy.

This is what grad school *will* look like (when I can finally take the stuff I want to take)

Not that everything in last week's rambling list of my classes is horrible, awful, terrible and miserable -- and I'm the first to admit that I know I'll use what I'm learning someday -- but I am still jumping-out-of-my-skin excited for most of these core courses to be behind me so I can have some fun.

(Remeber, I'm a big nerd about health stuff. "Fun" is relative.)

I registered for classes for this summer and next fall, and now I have yet another reason to wish this semester was just over already: They sound awesome.

Here's how it's gonna go down:

May 13: Last project due & last final
May 14-17: Do absolutely nothing.
May 18-20: Get wisdom teeth yanked. While awake. Recover (physically and emotionally).
May 21-24: Head to hometown for friends' wedding & other friend's baby shower
May 25: May term starts! Taking Public Health Priorities in the Developing World & Animals in Healthcare (about animal-assited therapies -- I get to shadow a therapist! So fun!) for a couple weeks
June 8: (PAID!!!) fulltime internship in the communications department of the Minnesota Department of Human Services begins
June 15: Summer term starts! Taking environmental health and management courses online for the rest of the summer
Last week of summer: See May 14-17
September 8: Here we go again. On tap for fall semester: Applied Research Methods, Online Media Creation & Design, Public Health Policy as a Prevention Strategy, Refugee Health, Ethics, Community Building & Health

Oh, the joys of doing two programs at once -- I can detail spring and summer 2010 for you, too, if you'd like. Everything is in The Plan. The busy, busy Plan.

This is what grad school looks like.

I definitely haven't had a walk-in-the-park semester in either of my master's programs, but since spring break, it's been baaad. And it's only going to get worse from here on out. Until May 13 at 3:30 p.m., that is, when I break free from my very last final -- biostats -- and it's finally summer!

(Well, until I get my wisdom teeth out, take four classes, intern fulltime and work halftime, etc. But I don't even want to think about that yet.)

I get a lot of questions from friends, family and blog readers about what exactly it looks like to go to school for public health and journalism. What do I do? What are classes like? What are assignments like?

Let me give you an idea, in the spirit of all heck breaking loose here.

Community Health Theory & Practice 2

Last semester, this was very much a behavioral theory class. Now, it's all about program planning and grant writing. I'm currently about nose-deep in an implementation plan, timeline and budget for the (fake) program I'm creating to reduce the rate of C-sections in a major local hospital system. One component is on the policy level: instating a rule that says no more elective C-sections. The other is a maternal education component that supplements traditional prenatal classes and gets women to attend. Eventually I'll turn all of my work into a grant proposal for the final project.

Program Evaluation

Focusing on a breast cancer education program for Somali women I worked alongside during my year as an AmeriCorps VISTA, I just finished creating an evaluation plan for looking at how one of the main program components -- one-on-one home visits by community health workers -- is being implemented and whether things are happening as they're supposed to be. And now I'm working on an outcome evaluation plan that details how exactly I'm going to figure out whether the objectives of the program are being met (i.e., whether breast cancer knowledge is increasing). Next step: creating a mock report to disseminate my mock findings.

Biostatistical Methods 2

What is there to say about biostats? Well, I do a lot of math. I use the statistical software SAS until I'm about ready to punch the computer. I mostly compare groups to see whether they're different from one another and try to take the data I have and predict things I don't have. Simple linear regression? Multiple linear regression? Logistic regression? Got 'em covered. I just wrapped up a nine-page homework assignment and am gearing up for two more and a final.

Computer-Assisted Reporting on Health

Reporting as in news. I'm currently digging through the Internet in hopes of finding data sets about how far along women are when they're having their babies and how they're having them (C-sections? inductions?). I'll then take those puppies, throw them into Access and/or Excel and play with the numbers until I find an interesting trend or lead on a story. I'm working with a classmate on our final project about why women aren't carrying their babies to full term and how exactly they're getting around that. I have another number-crunching story due next week which I, um, may not have even thought about yet. Oops.

Star Tribune Practicum

I've talked about my health reporting at the local paper, and this is it. There aren't a lot of assignments for the class itself, but right now I'm wrapping up one of them: a critique of a major story or project the paper has undertaken (I chose one on organ donation) that includes interviews with the reporters and editors who worked on it. And I'm plugging away on my required journal, which I'll turn into a reflection paper at the end of the semester.

Finally, over spring break I took Designing and Conducting Focus Groups -- our final assignment (done!) was to write a few-minute introduction to a focus group and develop the questioning route that we would use. Mine was about what types and sources of prenatal education women receive. I guess there's a pregnancy/baby trend here in my work!

That's all! No sweat, huh?

What do you potential grad students think? Is this what you expected grad school to be like?

Fixing what's seen on da streets

This week I listened in on a teleconference with the Minnesota Department of Health's STD and HIV Section about the newly released 2008 STD numbers for the state (not so hot). We got the standard epidemiology standpoint, the charts, the graphs.

But I was glad to see that they also included a couple of presenters who talked about programs they're running that are successfully bringing the numbers down in certain neighborhoods.

One very cool program, run by the City of Minneapolis, is called Seen on da Streets. It focuses on people whose STD rates are high and use of health care is low: boys and men who are racial or ethnic minorities. Since the program began, it has reached more than 3,000 males with outreach workers - usually from the same neighborhood, relative age and life situation - at bus stops, parks, barbershops, you name it. These educators talk about STDs, safe sex and getting tested, something they can offer even without having the person ever enter a clinic.

And the program tries hard to speak the language of "da streets." They think about how teen males communicate, by cell phone, texting, MySpace, and use those channels for health messages and information.

Check out Seen on da Streets' presentation and this article on the organization and bigger issue.