With finals over, some of us decided to get together and make sushi. I am allergic to basically everything in sushi, except rice, so my pal came up with the most American sushi concoction ever. Bacon, marinated chicken, jalapenos, green peppers, carrots, avocado, rice. Did I mention bacon??? Delicious. Anyway, my contribution to the meal was wine, of course, and avocados. When I got to the grocery store, I quickly realized I did not know how to pick out an avocado. Since it is kind of a trendy item, I didn't want to screw it up with the general "should be firm but slightly giving under pressure" rule. So, I quickly whipped out the trusty iPhone and dialed up my roomie, who is a med student by day and avocado connoisseur by night.
Me: How do you pick out a ripe avocado? Roomie (also med student): Hmm... you want it to be like... hard... but not really... kinda squishy... Me: (Hard? and squishy? Raise eyebrow in slight confusion, my silence prompting further instruction.) Roomie: Like... you want it to be like.... Oh! Pitting Edema. The avocado should feel like pitting edema. Me: Oooooh, perfect. Thank you!
That's a normal description of a vegetable right? Yes, indeed. In fact, if you're a med student, that is an easier comparison/description to come up with than the normal one, that everyone else would understand, and that you, in fact, would have used pre-med school.
So clearly, I just wrapped up the hardest semester of my life. How should you know this??? My lack of blogging for over a MONTH! NO TIME FOR ANYTHING. MUST STUDY. That has been my personal motto for the past 4 weeks, with the exception of Thanksgiving break, in which my motto was: NO TIME FOR ANYTHING. MUST DO NOTHING. Well, you will be pleased to learn that WE HAVE SURVIVED! We have survived: 1. One exam per week for three semesters straight... as in 54 weeks of exams. 2. Finals week. Incorrect. Try "Finals THREE weeks." 3. Pharmacology. 977 pages of notes to memorize. Almost as many drugs. For non-med school people... that might sound like a lot. But then, when you consider that for each of those 900-some drugs.... we needed to learn the routes of administration, bioavailability, mechanism of action, where it is metabolized, what it is metabolized into, how it is cleared/excreted, side effects, contraindications, comparisons to similar drugs, drug-drug interactions, and what exact scenarios the drug should or should not be prescribed in...... the amount of knowledge required for that single class is pretty hard to fathom. 4. Officially signing up for boards. Dropping $560.00 to take the USMLE Step 1... as in... this doctor $h!t is getting real.
5. No Shave November. AKA Movember (Mustache + November). This month is dedicated to raising funds for prostate cancer. The male med students and many of the faculty sign up to not shave their mustaches for the entire month. Instantly transforming them into pedophiles... that creepy man you would run from in an alley... the guy you automatically steer a child away from, which resisting the urge to run yourself. Interestingly, as creepy as they all looked... as soon as they put on their white coats, the 'stache almost seemed appropriate. Weird concept there. Anyways.... none of us realized this... but due to the stress and fast-paced life we led during finals... the girls also had to essentially participate in a No Shave November. It was hard enough to find time to shower, let along shave. PAMP and I had a competition.... and even though he has been growing hair on his legs for 25 years.... I hate to admit I almost beat him. So now, it is Christmas break. I passed Pharm! I signed up for boards! I shaved my legs! Merry Christmas, to me!
"Can't you have a normal conversation with someone without over-analyzing it?" "No, Mom, not really. It's currently my job to over-analyze things. I do it for at least 12 hours a day." "What? Nevermind, fine. I will talk to you later, then." Click.
I look down at my phone and I don't know who I'm more frustrated with - me, for apparently being socially awkward now; med school, for making me socially awkward; or my mom, for being right and making me realize what an ass I must have sounded like. As I walk back to the med school, I start thinking about how I wasn't socially awkward - at least to this extreme - before med school. Which, in my over-analyzing manner, leads me to think of all of the other things I used to be better at before med school. MATH. I used to go into the grocery store, mentally keep a tab, and come within a dollar of the total, with tax, every time. I won the Math 24 competition and went to states every year from 4th to 8th grade. I was even the VP of Math Club in high school .... no judging here, guys, I got to miss three days of school every year. Now, I see a math problem and I'm like ADDITION? DIVISION?WHAT? Where is my calculator!? They really expect me to write out long division??? Um, no. Skip question. Next. I get back to my study room, where HSIL and PAMP (Meet them here!) are productinating (Productive Procrastination.... Facebook.... Email.... Netflix.... you know, the important things in life). I relay my frustration about my former awesome well-rounded self, and how I am pretty sure she is MIA now. Me: It made me think of all the things I can't do anymore! All: Math! HSIL: Spelling! PAMP: Real life! HSIL: This weekend I think I am just going to catch up on life. That will be my plan. PAMP: I had to pencil "Laundry" into my planner. What is this? When I have to pencil "laundry" into my schedule because otherwise I just won't remember to do it!?! Me: Me too! It's the worst when you wake up and have to wear your white coat and realize that you needed to wash it but didn't have time. PAMP: You wash your white coat? Me: Yeah, I've washed it three times already. HSIL: What are you doing in it that you need to wash it? Me: You guys don't wash your white coats? I mean, I spilled coffee on it once. And then, the other two times it just kinda smelled like old me and needed washed. PAMP: So, basically you just need to shower more. HSIL: Hey! I have to pencil "showering" into my schedule every Wednesday night. I know I won't want to shower Thursday or before the test on Friday! PAMP: Yeah. I guess I have to pencil "shaving" in the night before patient interactions. Me: Last Sunday at the flag football game, I wore shorts and went to put on my cleats and OMG! It was "jungulous" down there! PAMP (disgusted): Jungulous? HSIL (empathetic) : I totally understand! I shaved for the first time in forever just so I could wear a dress to dinner with my parents on Saturday. Me: I don't even remember the last time I shaved! Is it bad when I estimate those sort of things based on the last time I had a date? Which, when was the last time I had a date?! And, that about sums up our lives. On a brighter note, we all have extremely complete, color-coded To Do Lists. As disorganized as our lives may seem, it is really all quite simple. We study. We study. We sleep when we can. We party on Friday. Even if that definition of party changes to "sleep" or "study some more." And then, we repeat. If we are lucky, we do laundry. Shower. Even shave. If we are lucky.
I had been locked in the quiet study room for going on eight hours. My eyes could no longer take the fluorescent lights. My ears could no longer take the silence or frustrated sighs. And my brain could no longer take all the pharmacology it was cramming. It was time. For. Facebook.
I defiantly turn the volume up on my Mac as loud as it will go (all you Mac users know that this is not very impressive.... but what can you do), hit 'play' on some Justin Bieber song (no judging), sign on to Facebook, and start creeping. My East Coast people are my main targets today, and it becomes a competition to see who has the most exciting Hurricane Sandy update. My family and friends are all back on the east side of this glorious nation, and my best friend lives in Manhattan. Another friend lives in Virginia. He was freaking out, as the ocean is literally in his backyard, and this was his first hurricane experience. I asked him how he was preparing, and his answer was "Batteries. And beer. Lots and lots of beer." Solid. Anyhow, the most memorable status was from my friend who is a pediatric nurse.
"manually
evacuating the PICU and NICU in NYC?! who ever thought they'd actually
use the med sleds. wow, that's some dedication right there. it's no joke
up there...prayers for all of them..."
Someone asked what med sleds were, and here was his response:
"Basically they're plastic
sleds used to evacuate patients in emergencies. but the baby ones, which
they'd use in the NICU in this case, have a foam fit-in that can hold 4
babies as you take them down the steps. but doing that for an entire
NICU which probably has a lot of babies in it, and doing it in the picu
which has kids of all sizes, plus kids that are intubated, need to be
bagged by somebody, and God forbid a kid is on ECMO..."
This image really hit me. This is the first time that a big storm/natural disaster has occurred while I've been in med school, where I actually thought about what it would be like to be a healthcare provider in this situation.
Imagine having to transport four very sick, most likely premature babies in a sled down who knows how many flights of stairs, while the power is out. And then, where do they go from there? Imagine coordinating with all of the patients, parents, family and staff to ensure that the right baby goes to the right healthcare center, with the right parents, and gets the right treatment. Imagine having to transport these kids down those stairs, in the sled, while someone else is bagging them. How do you monitor vitals in transit? How many patients will code during transit? How many patients will die or suffer worse injury as a result of transit? So many questions filled my head. It made me so thankful that there are other people out there that train for/know how to deal with these situations. But really, can you ever be truly prepared for these situations? In which case, I am so thankful that there are resourceful people willing to take risks, work long hours and put aside their own family concerns to save the lives of others. Rescue response to natural disasters, such as this scenario, highlight one of the many reasons why medicine is so awesome. Awesome, as in the true definition of the word: extremely impressive, worth great admiration. Medicine is awesome. It is challenging. It is scary. And it is totally worth it. Imagining being a physician in a scenario such as this one absolutely excites me and absolutely terrifies me. Game time decisions. Intuition. Creativity. Risks. Knowing that someday I will be at a point in my career where I will be able to perform at that level is worth very single minute studying, every single drug I have to memorize (even if they don't even use it anymore), every single minute of lost sleep, and every single meal I forget to eat (well.... almost... I really like food). Basically, this post is a shout out to all physicians, healthcare providers, rescue workers, and volunteers who have been involved with reinstating organization, normality, and most importantly, hope during a natural disaster. And, to all of the family and friends who took care of these brave people's families/children, so that they could do their job.
There are a few people that I have referred to numerous times throughout my postings, therefore I am officially assigning them blog names. Meet PAMP. The med school version of a P-I-M-P. In scientific terms, a PAMP is a pathogen-associated molecular pattern that is recognized by the body's immune system, triggering an immune response and, hopefully, enabling the body to clear the pathogen (anything infectious, like a virus or bacterium, germs!). No worries, PAMP did not earn his nickname due to a lack of hygiene... although, there was one time last year where I'm pretty sure he didn't shave for a couple of months and I was starting to get concerned.
PAMP approaching finals week.
PAMP earns his nickname due to his legit dance moves, chill approach to life, general awesomeness, and the fact that last year when we were all suggesting trivia team names, his suggestion was "PAMPin' Ain't Easy." Genius. Meet HSIL. HSIL stands for Hot, Sexy, Intelligent Lady.
One of HSIL's favorite quotes, with one of her favorite ladies.
In medicine, HSIL, aka HGSIL, stands for "high grade squamous intraepithelial lesion." HSIL earns her nickname due to her love of ob/gyn and my love of acronyms. Works out nicely! Anyway, one could argue that PAMP and I both held our own on the party scene most Fridays throughout our M1 year. To be honest, I never stayed in on a Friday, excluding finals week. My approach to med school is more of the "Have no life during the week, then refuse to study on Friday, Saturday....and if I can pull it off.... Sunday." Yes, M1 year was challenging. But, partying on Friday, and occasionally Saturday, was totally feasible. Unfortunately, I'm quickly learning that my "no studying on the weekends" philosophy may not cut it for M2 year. Last Friday, something unheard of happened. I did not go out. I know. I can hardly believe it myself. I got home from my exam around 5pm. Immediately crashed for 3 hours. Woke up at 8 and caught up on Grey's Anatomy. Essential part of my Friday routine. Then, around 9pm, the texts started rolling in about going out. And you know what? I was in PJs, in my warm bed, probably (definitely) in dire need of a shower, tuned in to Netflix. I weighed my options and chose to go to sleep at 10pm. On a Friday. I had to check my temperature to make sure I wasn't ill. When I woke up the next day at 11am... yes, I slept for 13 hours... I realized I definitely wasn't sick. I was just an M2, which requires much more time and effort than M1 year. Fortunately, the material is much more interesting and actually relevant. Then, something else unheard of happened. I studied. Hard. On a Saturday. I'm cringing. I was so confusd by my actions, that I had to go out on Saturday night. So I went out. And I had one drink. And then, something unheard of happened. I stopped drinking after one drink. Why? Because I wanted to get up early on Sunday. To study. WHAT IS GOING ON!?!?!?? The answer, as we know, is simply "M2". Yesterday, after our pathology exam, I came home and crashed. Again, I woke up at 9pm, and my friend texted me to go out. I was in PJs, bed, and in need of a shower... but, I sucked it up and showered and forced myself to go out. Never thought it would come to that. As I was getting ready, I texted PAMP. Me: I know you're probably studying or chillin with ur gf, but we're heading DT around 11 if you want to join! PAMP: Ha. I am doing neither. I was actually thinking about sleeping soon. Because I am 47 years old. (PAMP is 24.) Me: If it makes you feel better, I slept from 5-9. And it was awesome. This M2 thing is really crampin our styles! I am forcing myself to go out. Meaning I should probably change out of sweatpants. You know something is wrong when I don't feel like drinking at all. Usually that feeling is constitutively active. PAMP: I've been down-regulated for awhile. Me: Too much stress and med school damage. Hoping we haven't hit the irreversible stages yet. PAMP: Too late for me. I'm fibrosed. Me: NO! This is bad. I want you to regain normal function, but I'm almost afraid to have you party, for fear of reperfusion injury. Nerdy Me was really pumped about how patholigized that conversation was... just another example of med-school-can't-turn-it-off-syndrome.
So, there is a really great guy in our class, who is married to a wonderful wife and they have a beautiful daughter. He is one of those people I always think of when people are talking about having "successful relationships in med school." In order to help strengthen his relationship and create more family-friendly med school events, he and a few other students decided to create a student group called "ABCs" aka "All 'Bout Couples." Today, ABCs sent an email inviting married students and students in committed relationships to attend their events. As we all know, I am far from both of these situations, and I'm totally okay with it. But, it was kind of like when I get emails from SNMA, which is a group for "diverse" students. Last year, I lived with two "diverse" students who are both members of SNMA. Well, in the beginning of medical school, I really wanted to join SNMA because they have fun events and I enjoy diversity. Both of my roomies laughed when I said this, because I am not "racially diverse." Personally, I think that is crap, and I felt discriminated against - mind you, I never dwelled on it and I truly don't care, but for the purpose of this blog, I'm recounting these events. Just because I'm white means I can't be diverse? I believe the simple definition of "diversity" is "difference." Well, aren't we all different? Anyway, it felt like a slap in the face. Today, I read the ABC email and it was kind of like getting slapped in the face, but in more of a Three Stooges way - I read the Subject Line, laughed because I knew it didn't apply to me, opened it up to read anyway, then felt bad because I couldn't participate lol. My reaction was to immediately get on Facebook and message my close med school friend (MSF), who is also single. Me: not gonna lie, everytime i get an email for All 'Bout Couples and it says its only for those in committed relationships, married, or with children.... i feel pretty discriminated against LOLOL MSF: Agreed. We should start ASS "Always Stay Single"
Today, I performed my first fine needle aspiration (FNA). This is an easy procedure to perform and relatively painless for the patient, commonly compared to getting blood drawn. FNAs are generally a diagnostic procedure performed by a pathologist to remove some cells and decide what's going on in that lymph node or lump on your arm, and how to effectively treat it. My two friends and I signed up for this pathology selective before school even began because it was the ONE selective that said we would get "hands-on experience," and what more can a med student ask for when they are used to studying in hermit-mode 12 hours a day?
So, we wear our white coats and hospital-approriate attire, get lost twice in the hospital because we have no clue where we are going, and show up right on time to our clinic. Our clinic, with our patients. Our patients, two bananas. Yes. I performed my first FNA on a banana. And I talked to it. I said, "Ok, Mr. Banana, you are going to feel a slight pinch on three..... 1...2....3.....There we go..... just a few more seconds.... I'm going to remove the needle now.... aaaaand.... we're done!" Bananas, and fruit in general, are great patients because who gives a crap if you mess up. The funny part is, even though it is a banana, we all still get nervous performing the procedure because we are being watched by our peers and our preceptor. Now, after successfully performing my FNA on Mr. Banana, and creating a beautiful slide might I add, I would feel 10x more confident doing it on a real patient.
Banana Jesus?
This got me thinking about all of the procedures we have to learn to perform, and how potentially terrifying it can be if we have to perform them on a real patient for the first time. For you non-med folks, we basically learn how to take a history and perform a physical exam on Standardized Patients (SPs), who are community volunteers trained to assess us. Then, we have one week of training right before our third year begins, at which we practice the basics on each other. After that, thrown to the wolves! I remember my first physical exam evaluation... my hand was shaking as I drew the H for the eye exam... my stethoscope got caught in my hair... and then the real kicker, I had my patient raise his hands during the musculoskeletal portion and WHOA! I got flashed. Totally forgot to give him a drape. Whoooops.
The second week of M2 year we have a physical exam evaluation that we have to pass in order to finish the year. I felt super accomplished when I waltzed in there... hair pulled back this time... immediately handed my patient a drape, performed everything without shaking, had time for lots of small talk, and finished 8 minutes early.
Obviously, the more time we spend with patients and the more practice we
have, the more confident and successful we are at performing
procedures, even if it is a basic physical exam. Last year, I shadowed my mentor in Internal Med a lot. I would get there early in the morning, usually before she did, to peruse the board, chug a coffee, and scope out which residents I should make nice with. Eventually, some of the residents got used to me being there and would ask me to do things, obviously thinking I was a third year student and not just a mere first year. This is basically the normal conversations that I had: Resident: "Hey, go grab an ABG from 25A" Me: "Ok, what's an ABG?" Resident: "Are you kidding me?"
Me: "No, that's okay, I can look it up." Resident: "It's an arterial blood gas! What year..... ohhhh that's right. You're only an M1. Fine. I'll do it. Come with me and pay attention." So, how do we learn to do the more invasive procedures? Well, cadaver lab is a good place for surgery. And shoe laces are great for surgical knots. The banana, an excellent patient. And then, there is each other. My friend and I signed up to learn how to put in IVs last year. Here is my hand afterwards:
I have learned to ask this question with all seriousness, "You want to practice what on me?" Of course, my answer is still yes, as long as I get to practice it next. Ouch.
On Thursday, I woke up to one of the worst omens ever, especially for a medical student.
I woke up
with
the
dreaded
sore
throat.
I immediately checked for swollen lymph nodes, and Oh! Poor me! I had some. I refused to believe that I was getting sick because I had a Pharmacology exam the next day, so I went to school, studied from 10 am to 2 am, woke up at 6am Friday morning and studied until my 8:30 exam. I took my exam and came home, where I immediately realized how tired I was and how much my throat hurt. I decided to take a nap, and then woke up to repeatedly hit refresh on the school website so I could check my exam grade (gotta love that moment when you realize you passed, never gets old). Friday night my friends and I went out to a huge concert and had a great time. In true Party Like A Med Student fashion, we actually rocked white lab coats and goggles, because we are that cool... and no... I'm not kidding. If you've never worn a lab coat to a festivity, you should really do it sometime. There are so many pockets for drink-holding and what not!
Anyway, I wake up on Saturday, and I have my moment of truth. No, I am not hungover. Yes, I have a sinus infection. And, lucky me, a fever. And, oh, what is that? A chest cold? Check, Double Check! When it rains, it pours! So, I thought about what pre-med-school-me would do about this situation. The answer was sleep it off, chillax on the couch, and watch movies in between naps until I felt better. So, that is what I did.
And now, it is Sunday night and I did nothing but rest the past two days, and I am freaking out.
Pros:I do feel slightly better, and I attribute most of it to the massive amounts of sleep I got this weekend. I didn't study for two days. I got to watch TV. Cons: I DIDN'T STUDY FOR TWO DAYS. I DIDN'T DO MY LAUNDRY, OR CLEAN MY ROOM, OR GO TO THE POST OFFICE, OR DO ANYTHING ELSE I SAID I WOULD DO THIS WEEKEND. Now, pre-med-school-me would be like, "ehhh! Who cares! I can do it this week after work or during my lunch break!" Med-school-me is like, "OMGGGG WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO!? HOW WILL YOU CATCH UP!? YOU ARE ALREADY BEHIND (note: we are always behind)! I HATE YOU RIGHT NOW!!!!" Think about it. We have exams every week. Each of these exams requires hours upon hours upon hours of learning. Rough estimate would be ~17 class hours, 40 hours outside of class... if not more. If you fail one exam, you spend the rest of the semester working even harder (possible?) and freaking out even more (possible?) to make up for it. And, if you fail one class, in most cases, you have to decelerate an entire year. Now, what person wants to be sick as hell and study for at least eight hours a day? No one. And, even if that person did, it's not great studying because what sick person can really retain a ton of info? But, name one other career, in which if you get sick and fail a test, it could potentially cost you $70,000 and one year of your life? This is one of those times, where normal life trumps med school life, hands down. Now, go wash your hands and never get sick.
Scenario 1: 1989 Late 80's. Yours truly is 3 years old, rocking out to some Belinda Carlisle, Heaven Is A Place On Earth in my aunt's Mustang, propped up on some pillows so I can see over the dashboard.
Basically will forever be in my top 5 albums.
Note: For old time's sake, I just youtubed this song. If you are interested in a creepy music video, look no further!
Scenario 2: 1999 At 11 years old, I purchase my first CD. Obviously, it is Britney's debut album, ...Baby One More Time. I bolt upstairs to my Minnie Mouse, pink and green bedroom, pop it in my CD player, and hit play on my VCR so I can watch re-runs of Mickey Mouse Club and memorize Brit Brit's dance moves (MTV is not allowed in my house).
Scenario 3: High School Cruisin' Well, now I am really coming into my own. I have a very mature theme song to cruise to in my Jeep (which I miss oh-so-much)... none other than Nelly's Pimp Juice. Lyrical genius. Ex 1: "You ain't from Russia, so ----- why you rushin'?" Ex 2: "Treat you like you from Milwaukee, send you Green Bay Packin'" But, it is this third example that wins me over. For those of you who don't know what "pimp juice" is, here is the real definition. Ex 3: "Pimp Juice is anything that attract the opposite sex It can be money, fame, or straight intellect It don't matter, bi*ch#$ got the Pimp Juice, too Come to think about, they got more than we do They got more juice in they talk, got more juice in they walk They got more juice in they brains, oh God Da**!"
Scenario 4: High School Competin' Back seat of the school bus. Windows down. Headphones on. I feel the anticipation build, but for now I am the calm before the storm. I'm already changed into my track uniform, and I grab my custom Nike track shoes and switch out whatever spikes look dull. Getting ready to dominate at my favorite event, the 100 Hurdles. I laugh because every time I visualize running them, I think back to the first time I ever attempted to hurdle. It was after my freshman year of high school. I was taking summer gym class and it was "track day." I was a cheerleader and I had never ran track. I was looking forward to being outside, but other than that, ugh. The teacher had us all get into a line and we had to go and jump the three hurdles that were set up. I'm pretty fast, and occasionally cocky, so I'm thinking, "no big deal, I'm gonna rock this." When it's my turn, I take off at full speed, stutter step, breeze over the hurdle and somehow manage to cross my legs in air. Next thing I know, my entire body is rolling across the track, impaling itself with pieces of red rubber. I lay there, unsure if I am still alive. Everyone's silent. And then, a senior yells out, "FRESHMAN!!!" and everybody starts to laugh. It was painful, on many fronts. When I decided to run track the next year, I was terrified when my coach signed me up for hurdles because of my flexibility. Who would have thought I'd make districts within four meets??? That year started a trend, and before every track meet, I would listen to "I'm Really Hot" by Missy Elliot.
Scenario 5: College Time Walking to my first Physics exam, I am terrified of the unknown. Listening to my iPod, this song comes on, and it appropriately becomes my theme song for every college exam. The pre-exam walk is definitely the "Highway to Hell."
Scenario 6: MED SCHOOL I'm in a closed room, walls covered with white boards, white boards covered with mechanisms and drug names. My caffeine level is approaching toxic, my legs are quivering and my chest is tight with pre-exam stress. I'm in sweatpants and the same shirt I wore yesterday, and I may or may not have brushed my hair this morning.
Make-up? Does not exist.
Sleep? What is that?
Food? No, thank you, it would make me vomit.
Redbull? YES! NOW!
And then, I press play. (I highly encourage you press PLAY on this one, so you can understand).
And I immediately transform from this:
To this:
I picture this scenario with my classmates:
Walking into a fight, prepared for battle. Accepting nothing less than total domination and victory. Whipping out my guns and doing flips off of walls and jumping off buildings and running through fire. And then calmly walking away after I have destroyed the opponent. How can you not picture that when listening to "Kyoto"? And does that not pump you up to walk into an exam, like a bad ass, prepared for anything, yet accepting nothing less than victory..... or at least a 70...
Today was the first home football game for my university. I love football, mostly because I associate it with my Dad. He was a football coach for around 30 years, and I'm sure he will be adding to that in the future. I grew up on a football field, practicing my three-point stance before I was three years old, and using the tackling pads to build forts, while I waited at the sidelines for practice to be over.
I remember making plays called "Chicken and Biscuits," and my Dad actually adapting them for his teams. At the end of practice, the players would make a tunnel, and I would get to run through it with a football. They called me "Coach" and one of my most prized possessions is a gameball that my Dad gave me. My parents have been married for 25+ years, and "football" is their keyword for "I love you." I think it probably started in high school or something when Dad was too afraid to say ILY in front of his guy friends. They have it engraved on the inside of their wedding rings, and every football game that my Dad coached, he would flash my Mom the back of his clipboard, which had "FB" written on it with athletic tape. How romantic :-) Needless to say, football is a huge part of my life.
My first year of med school I did not buy season football tickets because they were pretty expensive and I didn't know how many games I would be able to attend. I learned quickly that Saturdays function as my catch-up on sleep/Netflix/sleep days, so I decided not to buy them this year either. If anyone has ever gone to a football game in a college town where football = life, then you know that the entire city transforms into a party on gameday. It is incredible!!! EVERYONE wearing jerseys or team shirts, face tattoos or paint, pom poms, and a ridiculous amount of beer. Tailgates everywhere. My landlord actually hosted a huge party in our yard today, with a stage, DJ, free beer and free food, it was awesome. His one requirement was that we didn't swim in the pond. Considering it is a thick, murky green color, and there are carp, muskrats, and who knows what else visible at all times... he didn't have much to worry about. But, one person did go in the pond anyway. Guess who it was? The landlord. Lol. So, here is how I partied like a med student this weekend. Friday: Arrive at school early and frantically search for an unoccupied study room. Lock one down for the entire day, decide I am winning, and start studying. At noon, check out some of the summer research posters... but more importantly, snag some free lunch. Fill my plate... do the slow walk backwards to the door... turn and bolt technique. At 4:30, I realize that four hours of studying has flown by and I didn't get half of what I wanted to do done... even though I really did only get on Facebook once and worked my butt off. I am supposed to be flag football practice at 4:30, so I pack up and head out. I'm the first one at practice, 15 min late, so I assume everyone else is studying, too. Big shocker there! During our hour practice, I realize we recruited the best female QB I've ever seen. Super pumped. I want to come up with a great, hopefully nerdy, nickname for her, but so far all I can think of is "Arm." This obviously needs some work.
Go home. My roomie begs me to shower... partly because I'm covered in mud and probably smell, but mostly because she wants to go out and knows if I sit around too long I will want to go to bed. Get our game faces on, start to party, head downtown.
Bar Number One. Boredom hits me like a freight train and I am immediately annoyed by all of the undergrads. "When did I get so old and boring?" flashes through my mind. And then, I do it. I party like a true med student. I pull out my iPhone, open Quizlet, and start flipping through my electronic deck of micro/infectious disease flashcards. Studying at the bar because you are bored? #MedStudentSyndrome #SeriousIllness #NotCoolMan.
Saturday:
Sleep in, because I can :-) Go tailgate. Limit myself to two beers because I need to study later. Instead of going to the game, I get a gyro at the stadium vendors and walk home. Start to study. One group in my complex's parking lot is broadcasting the game over loudspeakers, so whether I like it or not, I listen to the game. Do not mind that at all. Study. Study. Nap. Seven hours later, I am studying. People still partying in the lot. Instead of the game, they are playing music. Party Rock Anthem comes on. Set my pen down. Get up and shuffle by myself in my bedroom. Sit back down. Resume studying. And that, is how to party like a med student. #PharmTrumpsFootball #LMFAOTrumpsPharm
"Study Rock Anthem" - one of my fave med school vids!!!
Me: Pretty embarrassed about the question I'm going to ask you. No judging. Med Student Friend: No judging here. Me: <insert question> MSF: I have no clue. Me: <explain scenario that created the question> MSF: Again, I have no clue. Me: Don't you think this is the sh!t we should be learning!? MSF: <insert attempt at a logical answer to question> Me: Hmm.... That sounds good... Is that a real term? Did I learn that once? MSF: Nope. It is my own words.
Today, I discovered Lindsey Stirling. She is an amazing contemporary violinist!!! She has remade songs by Nicki Minaj and Bruno Mars, and even has her own version of the Party Rock Anthem. But, this is my favorite find, a remake of Rihanna's "We Found Love," featuring citizens from a small area of Kenya, to whom she brought the music of the violin to for the first time.
I have watched this video about six times now. Every time I watch it, I wish I was there. I was a public high school teacher for a year before coming to medical school, and I loved the day to day interaction with the kids, and the excited feeling I got when I saw that light bulb of learning flash on! When I see the classroom in this video, the students learning, wearing uniforms, united in their pursuit of an education and better life, it makes me so happy for the world. The news is so focused on the negative, that I gave up watching it about two years ago. Yes, our economy is in a rut, we are continuously at war, the crime and drug rates feel like they are at all time highs. Basically, the world sucks. But then, you watch a video like this, depicting a culture that was once depressed, war-ridden, and unable to obtain an education. You see the smile and joy on a child's face, and it is the quintessence of all things pure and good. You see culture, color, tradition, and a way of life. This is the kind of video that should be playing on the nightly news. I want to see the people that go out in this world and make it better. You don't have to do something world-renowned that is going to go down in history books. You can do something simple. You can play a song. You can introduce an instrument to a new culture. You can sit around a fire, dance, share stories, and even if you don't speak the same language, you are united in laughter and the celebration of life. When I applied to med school, I was rejected from UNC for one reason: my view on the world. My first interview was with the Dean of the medical school, talk about pressure! At the end, he congratulated me on my excellent scholarship and application and told me how he hoped to see me in Tarheel blue for the next four years. I was ecstatic. Unfortunately, the Dean cannot represent candidates for admission, and my second interviewer would be taking my file to the committee. She was an emergency medicine physician who had just gotten off of a 36 hour shift. Needless to say, she was exhausted. She asked me the standard "Why do you want to go into medicine?" and I gave her my answer. She stopped me halfway through my answer, took off her glasses, rubbed her eyes, and sighed. She said, "You look at medicine through rosy-colored glasses. I don't think you're ready to be a doctor." I had never heard that expression before, so I responded, "Rosy-colored glasses? What do you mean?" She said, "Do you really think you are going to help people all of the time? Don't you know how many negatives there are in this field?"
I was shocked. 1. This was my med school interview. What candidate is going to waltz in there and say, "I know how bad my life is going to suck for the next... well, forever. I know a career in medicine will leave me hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt, make relationships harder to maintain than normal, will make me chronically sleep-deprived and stressed, and will be extremely sad and frustrating at times." NO ONE. NO ONE is going to do that. At least, not anyone smart enough to get into med school. 2. I have seen death and dying. I have experienced the negatives. First, I was a patient. I thought doctors were terrifying and cruel and uncaring. I actually asked a doctor if he planned on killing me once. Second, I have seen families crying for loved ones, and I have cried for loved ones. The first patient that I ever had die was a six-month old, who had sustained injuries from an abusive father. I've worked with transplant patients, seen them deteriorate, seen them turn yellow and grey, and then white from calcium literally seeping out of their skin. So, what? Why should I focus on this? Why should I focus on the negative? Growing up, when I had a particularly bad day and all I wanted to do was gripe and moan about it, my mom would literally stop me and say, "STOP! Name three good things that happened today!!!!" And I would. And slowly, I started being able to focus on the positive. So, how did I answer this interviewer's question? Unfortunately, I answered it very poorly, even though I knew my real answer. Like I said, I was shocked and gave her some BS about knowing how I was going to be a great doctor and I was ready to face the challenges along with the triumphs, and blah blah blah, pretty cliche stuff. If given the chance to do it all over again, here is my answer for her. "Yes, Doctor, I do have rosy-colored glasses, and I see nothing wrong with that. In fact, I am proud of my abilities to wear these glasses, because they help me strive to see the good in people, and be a better person myself, which will ultimately make me a damn good physician. I have seen death be gruesome, painful, and traumatizing to those left behind. But, I have also seen death be peaceful, poetic, and almost beautiful. I have experienced sickness, as a patient, too tired to stand, bruised from blood draws, bloated from water retention, fragile from weight loss. But, I have experienced the joy and relief that comes with prayers being answered in the form of a wonderful physician, who literally changed my life. I have seen a child die from non-compliance and acute renal failure following a kidney transplant. But, I have seen children, who were born without kidneys, receive organ transplants, and add years onto their lives. I have had a child -- who had undergone over 100 surgeries, had two kidney transplants fail, and had to receive daily dialysis for over 16 years -- hold my hand and comfort me because I was terrified for my life on a hot air balloon ride. I have seen cancer leech onto a human soul and invade every crevice of a body. But, I have seen patients wage war against it, refuse to lose, battle to the brink of death, and win. Forgive me, Doctor, if I choose to focus on the battles won, the lives saved, and the miracles and gifts that medicine can provide. Believe me, I have learned from the hardships and I will never forget how it feels to be a vulnerable patient. You can also believe that I will never ever be a doctor who allows her patients or staff to focus on the negative. I will never ask a medical student to tell me about the negatives of this honored profession, nor shall I diminish and belittle the thought of helping people. I will wear my rosy-colored glasses every single day, and I will try my hardest to represent this profession to the best of my abilities, as I try to do in all aspects of life. Besides, these rosy-colored glasses look great on me -- pink is one of my favorite colors." It is important to be realistic. And it is important to be aware of the negative, learn how to deal with the negative, and most importantly, learn how to move on from the negative. I think this "We Found Love" video is a beautiful reminder of how joyous and fulfilling life can be, even amongst hardship and without a lot of material goods. When I watch this video, I wish I was there, providing medical care to these kids, while they taught me more than I could ever imagine teaching them. This video should remind us all to put on our rosy-colored glasses. Does their classroom look like the one you had growing up? How old were you when you first heard a violin? Did your babydoll look like the one that child has? Did your clothes fit you? Did you have shoes? Maybe if we supported and publicized more acts of kindness, and if more people got fame from their good deeds and community outreach, then more people would be inspired to do good, and I could watch the news again. Or go for a run after dark when I visit home. But, that's just me, rockin' my rosy-colored glasses.
World looks beautiful with them and without them, here!
