Med School Is Like Golf

(Or How Thinking About Taking A Dump Gave Me Hope)

After a weekend spent trying to catch up on sleep and determine the best approach to studying, I find myself nearing the middle of week two. So far, the only constant is that the peaks and valleys are still there. One day, I feel like I'm about to get voted off the island. The next, I think that this crazy-assed plan just might work: we just might win this dance contest and save the old folks' home with the prize money.

In a lot of ways, it's like the game of golf. Or, more importantly, it's like the game of golf is for ME. I'm okay at it. During a typical round, I feel like I'm having to work hard just to be a moderately bad golfer. Just when I'm considering throwing in the towel, I hit a nice shot that lands in the fairway. Hell, if I'm lucky, I might make par on a hole. It's just enough, exactly when I need it to make me put the clubs back in the car instead of heaving them into the nearest water hazard.

Same thing with school. After a series of "defeats," something - some little insignificant thing - clicks and you think "I can do this. I'm going to make it. I'm going to be good."

Today's tiny victory came during Histology. After a great day of Physiology (diffusion, active transport, and action potentials), Biochem (protein folding and the health problems associated with incorrect folding), Gross Anatomy (lecture about the structure of the spinal column), we moved into Histology for a lecture on Epithelium and Connective Tissues.

Biologically speaking, one of my favorite cells is the goblet cell. Essentially, it's a single-celled gland, shaped like a wine glass, that secrets mucous in various places in your body, such as your esophagus and other places in your gut. Our professor was showing slides of goblet cells and happened to display one of a goblet cell in the colon. He described how, initially, one would encounter only a few goblet cells in the walls of the colon but as you move through it, you'd encounter an increasing number until, near the end, there are a substantial number. (I am, of course, paraphrasing a bit. A proper scientist might pick this one apart.)

He asked, "Why would you encounter an increasing number?" Then, silence.

"To help you poop more easily," I whisper to classmates around me.

Although nobody, including me, offered an answer, he confirmed what I'd said, albeit in a more eloquently stated manner. And I got to take down the following words in my notes:

Going down through colon: more and more goblet cells.
Needed for lubrication to aid removal of fecal matter from the anus.

All hail the goblet cell.

That was my victory for today. I shall try again tomorrow.