Almond Preference

This past week in my EMT course we had to practice pediatric assessments. In the complex where the course is held is a small daycare, and the parents of the children agree to allow EMT students to take the vitals of their children. Children terrify me, they make me feel uncomfortable, and self-conscious. Another guy in my group felt even stronger about this. Heroically, others took the lead, and I was able to follow. The first challenge with children is that you have to convince them that the uncomfortable assessment you are about to give them is fun. To perpetrate this ruse, you build trust by talking to them about the things that small children think about. While this, in many ways, is the same with any patient, the questions change for children. Listening in on what the dads were asking, I was able to ask questions that apparently are important to young children.

Some of these questions were convenient, “how old are you” is both medically relevant, and something children want to tell you? Others are meaningless, but allow you to connect to the patient, “what is your favorite color”? My patient liked purple and yellow, which I agreed were great colors, but admitted that I like orange a little better than yellow, allowing me to introduce my bright orange stethoscope to the mix. The rest of the patient assessment ranged from medical to entertainment, to being mauled by the energetic child that took two students to almost get through a full assessment.

On Friday and Saturday nights in this course one of the instructors puts on a movie after post-dinner chores and studying is done. It cuts into sleeping, but since no one has gotten enough sleep this month, it does not really matter, you just get to relax a bit with the people you have been building stress with over the last few days. A friend of one of the instructors was here, and we started chatting after I was the only person in the lodge to agree to a bit of dancing before the movie began (I had the night off from chores).

The questions, while certainly more elaborate than the pediatric questions, were really much the same. Obviously they are asked for different reasons, but overall, they are mindless, and how the person answers is more important than what the person answers. In the pediatric exam we are assessing level of consciousness, looking for signs of abuse, and above all, what is wrong with the patient. With new acquaintances we evaluate the person for other reasons.

The first question for anyone is name, then for adults we trend into career, then interests, etc. Inevitably, age comes up, just like with the pediatrics. I do not value age unless it is relevant to the task at hand. If someone is interested in medical school later in life (like me) I am often curious how long the person has been out of school. Not for the sake of their age, but rather because I find inspiration in people who have established themselves, then change. In general though, I despise the age question, and I try to dodge it. I find it more interesting for the other person to decide my age, and allow them to see the qualities (good or bad) in me based on their judgment, rather than on a number I tell them.

Similarly arbitrary questions get tossed into the mix until we decide if we want to know the person or not. Each question, for me, is more tiring than the last. Not because I do not enjoy getting to know a new person, but rather because the simple question is actually not simple at all to answer. Stealing from the writers of 30 Rock I have begun describing my favorite color as Rainbow. Why? Because I like bright gear, orange and red, but I like the green hues of the forest, and warm colors in cozy homes. How could I choose a favorite?

Beyond situational dependency, choosing a favorite object or idea is challenging because we are blinded in our ability to choose by normal stimuli. The best example for this, I think, is in food, and no better example in food exists than mixed nuts. My father, if I recall correctly, scavenges mixed nuts for the Brazil nuts. This is a noble nut, somewhat rare in a can of mixed nuts, packed with protein (I have been told meaningless numbers such as, “as much usable protein as a four ounce steak”), a delicate flavor, and a delightful crunch. How could one of the rarest nuts in the can not be a favorite? Because the pistachio, while maybe slightly less protein packing, presents in a sea of brown and beige as an intriguing epidote, turns to a smooth butter with chewing, and has layers of nuanced flavors. In the pistachio's equal rarity, it is a powerful contender for the favorite nut in the can. Cashews, beloved by so many, have become fairly common in mixed nuts. It has a subtle crunch, and a smooth and wonderful texture when chewed. The slightly sweet flavor of the cashew makes it standout in the savory mix, and can be prepared into some of the most amazing sauces of the culinary world. While I have little love for the strange appearance and bitter flavor of the walnut, I am sure, somewhere, a walnut enthusiast exists who would be offended by my dislike.

While the filbert raps itself in the most beautiful shell, the real mystery of the nut bowl are the peanuts and almonds. Peanuts, though deadly to some, provides some of my favorite protein. The shells are easy to peel, the flavor is agreeable with almost any other food, the mouth feel is pleasing, and the butter is delicious beyond word. Tell someone that the peanut is your favorite, and you might as well have declared yourself a communist at an NRA meeting. The almond, though slightly more loved than the peanut is perhaps my preferred nut. Certainly they are everywhere, but they looks like Max from Flight of the Navigator, the crunch is unparalleled, the flavor is delightful, but not overpowering. Almond butter is good on toast, in smoothies, and can almost match the cashew in sauce potential. No one loves the almond though, because they are so very common.

In normal chitchat though, if someone asked what my favorite nut is, I am faced with a choice, tell the truth, and be regarded as bland, tell a lie, and know that I am phony, or unleash a pages long diatribe about the impossibility of a succinct answer, and be regarded as crazy. Luckily for me, there are some people who like a little insanity in their friends.