Staying Positive

One class final (Histology) and one practical exam down.

One practical exam, one presentation, and exams in Community and Behavioral Medicine, Medical Microbiology, Clinical Skills, Medical Physiology, Osteopathic Principles and Practice, Gross Anatomy, and Biochemistry to go. 

You've Got Mono!

I just got out of an essay exam in Microbiology.  Essentially, we were given an infectious condition and expected to identify the causative agent, describe the etiology of the causative agent, discuss the pathology of the condition, identify transmission methods, describe hallmark symptoms, describe any pertinent incidence/fatality rates, and discuss treatment options.  All of this in a pseudo-cohesive essay per condition, within an hour.

Our prof had given us a list of five possibilities:  bacterial pneumonia, bacterial diarrhea, burn wound infections, infectious mononucleosis, and urinary tract infections.  Of these five, two would be drawn from a hat at test time. We'd write a third essay on a condition of our choice that was not included in the original five.

So, as the week has drawn on, everyone has been busy trying to learn everything for all the conditions, some of which have what seems like a gajillion causative agents.  (Google some of the causes of bacterial diarrhea; there are seven serotypes of Escherichia coli alone.)  A few days ago, I started asking people what their wish list would be for the exam.  Most everyone, would say either bacterial pneumonia or diarrhea and infectious mononucleosis.  Mono is caused by the Epstein-Barr virus and, compared to the others, is easier to quickly understand and memorize key points.  As the rigors of the week continued to mount (we have two tests tomorrow and finals next week), people became more hopeful that we'd all get mono.

"I don't know ... I really hope we get mono!," someone would tell me.

"Yeah, that'd be pretty sweet," I'd concur.

Today, everyone made the final push on studying for it.  Like most exams, the room was buzzing with nervous tension in the minutes before the test.  One of our classmates picked the topics from a jar.  We were on pins an needles as our prof, unfolded the first one and announced that one of the topics would be bacterial pneumonia.  Everyone sighed.  In my gut, I knew that we'd be getting Urinary Tract Infections.

His hand rattled around in the jar for what seemed an eternity before he drew out a folded yellow slip and handed it to the prof.

"Your.  Next. Topic. Is. Infectious Mononucleosis!"

No shit, the room erupted with yells and applause.  All 75 of us were cheering and carrying on like we'd just won the lottery. It was ridiculous.  Hell, I personally was pumping my fist and screaming "Mono!!! Yeahhhhh!!!" without being at all sarcastic or ironic.  For five minutes after the cacophony settled, I sat there with my eyes closed laughing silently.  I smiled and chuckled during the entire thing.  Afterward, I headed to a conference room and laughed about it with a classmate until I cried.  Instead of studying for Histology and Anatomy, I'm writing this because it still kills me.  Damn, I wish I had it on video.  Classic.  Absolute classic.

That's what it's like to be a medical student:  the absolute effing highlight of my day involved cheering with joyful abandon for mono.  Honestly, it felt like my team won the big game on the final play with no time left.

Microphone Check, One, Two, One, Two...

In one of my classes, students are regularly used by instructors to demonstrate certain techniques and practical skills to the class.  Typically, the student, playing the role of the patient, will be examined by the instructor on an exam table on a small stage in the front of the class.  Overhead video cameras are used to ensure that everyone gets a great view of the treatment technique being addressed.

So, my lucky day was last week.  I was to be used to demonstrate how to identify and treat certain tender points on the posterior lumbar and sacral areas.  Normally, male students are shirtless and wear only a pair of running short.  The room was cold, however, and I got away with a pair of running shorts and a t-shirt.  During demonstration of the technique, the attending doctor had me slide to one side of the table so that he could manipulate my leg in order to demonstrate the treatment technique.  The following image shows how I was splayed on the table in front of my peers.

For the record, I wasn't wearing a sports bra. Also, my shorts were much shorter. 

While the professor was lecturing, he leaned over to move my leg.  His microphone fell off and dropped right into my ass-crack.  My shorts served as a thin, nylon barrier but, for all practical purposes, it was a direct hit.  Hell, I probably couldn't have placed it so precisely myself.

Precision and accuracy.

On feeling the impact and hearing the broadcast, muffled sounds of a microphone rumbling around in my ass, I quickly raised my head and flashed a confused expression to my classmates.  I was greeted with laughter, some stifled, most raucous.  Although I couldn't see him, it seemed as though it took the professor about an hour to gingerly pluck the microphone from my crevasse.

Never in my life had I been so happy to not have farted into a microphone placed in my butt.  (Not that this scenario has presented itself before, mind you.)  Had I done so, I would've immediately thanked everyone in the room, gather my things, and left, never to return. As it stands, I'm not sure that I'll be volunteering much more.

Down

Last night as I headed back to campus for a Physiology recitation, the moon perched in the sky, peeking through the clouds, winking at me, whispering "There is more.  There is more."  I had dressed in too light a jacket for the cold foggy day and wore the same into the night.  Sometimes, I like to feel the stinging cold air rip through my shirt and chill me to the core.  Sometimes, it's what I need to remind me that life exists outside the walls of this building, away from the formalin that leaps from an old, gray body to bury itself in my skin, apart from the pages and pages of text that I hunch over.  It heightens my senses, puts a snap in my step, pushes me urgently into these halls toward the tasks at hand.

I thought that Thanksgiving break would replenish me.  I thought that I could go home and be fully recharged.  Instead, I feel the pain of transition anew: parting is such sweet sorrow (again).  On my return, I discovered that those tending the fire had busied themselves splitting kindling and, on seeing me, dumped armloads onto the flame.  The heat is too much, is suffocating.  I want to wade out into the river and let the cooling waters pull me down, pull me down.

Culinary Delights

After nearly a semester of dissecting a cadaver, it's safe to say that my culinary horizons have narrowed slightly thanks to the sights, smells, sounds, and tactile experiences I've gained. Recently, I had to really coach myself through some tasty carne asada; so I guess that beef is probably off the list for a while.

Based on today's lab where we removed the GI tract and opened various structures, I can firmly say that I'll be hesitant to make a meal of only Oreos and pesto sauce.

Heal Me, Nature

Still licking my wounds, I headed into the canyon for a little "me" time to get away from things and to put something in front of my face that wasn't ink on a page. So, I headed into the river canyon for a short hike to get away from things, climb a ridge, and get a fresher perspective.

I drove fast in the canyon, leaning into the curves, glimpsing the river down below, seeing the rain clouds move in from the horizon. On reaching the trailhead, I ditched the car, grabbed my gear and heading across the river and into the thicket. I picked the steepest trail that I could find and attacked it. Within five minutes, my legs were throbbing and my lungs were on fire. I pushed onward, upward and, eventually, was rewarded with fantastic view of the canyon.





On the plateau, I lost the trail but managed to pick up a game trail and follow it for a while. Ten minutes later, when I was precariously perched on the seriously steep mountain side, I realized that I was not and had never been a mountain goat capable of comfortably walking on such stupidly sloped mountains. Carefully, I picked my way along the hillside for the next thirty minutes, pausing often, shooting some pics, and scouting my route. Eventually, I worked my way around the canyon and back to some landmarks that I'd noted that were on a proper footpath. Then, with quivering legs, I headed back to the car. I left the parking lot as the rain moved in and drove home tired and happy.

That Stung a Little*

*By "Stung a Little," I mean that it knocked me on my ass and hurt me badly. A brief rundown...

Community and Behavioral Medicine:

I'm in the white trunks.

Medical Microbiology

Here I am, taking the hit.

BioChemistry

Once again, I'm on the bad end of the business.

Medical Physiology

That's me in the role of Marcellus Wallace.