3 Semesters In and All is Well

Late last week, I wrapped up my third semester of medical school.  In retrospect, it's pretty hard to believe that it's gone by so quickly.  Actually, some weeks last what feels like months, hours become says, fifteen minutes is enough time to accomplish so much.  Other weeks, however, fly by so quickly that I seem to move in slow motion while everything speeds by me.  So, there's that.  Time is elastic; it moves quickly and slowly but rarely constantly.

Next semester begins in January and brings with it a maddening push through remaining subject matter, toward the boards.  Then, in July, I'll begin rotations in the hospital.  Insane.

For now, however, I'm going to enjoy a few days under the same roof as my wife, studying less than I should.

On To The Next One

" ... Don't be mad 'cause it's all about progression.
Loiterers should be arrested."

'On to the Next One' from Jay-Z's "The Blueprint 3"

Another week, another trove of insurmountable tasks to complete.  I wouldn't quite call them Sisyphean but it definitely feels vaguely similar.  After the last week of doing nothing more than studying, it should come as no surprise that this week is yielding more of the same.  As will next week.  And the week after.  For the foreseeable future.  [Sigh.]  It is, however, pretty damned cool.

Brush That Dirt Off Your Shoulder

One of the major learning experiences of second year, thus far, has been the attempt to become comfortable with standing before your peers and attempting to respond to questions.  You know, a whole "stand and deliver" routine.  In addition to learning the course content, we're being given the opportunity to become more comfortable with failing spectacularly in front of our peers.  This is a task for which I just might earn honors.  What can I say?  Everyone excels at something, right?

We've been given little remote controls called iClickers (the hottest technology of 1999) that we use to respond to questions during class for real-time tallying.  Prior to seeing how your peers respond, though, a student is randomly called to answer the question and, if you're really, really lucky, some follow-ups in front of your peers.  Luckily, I was called on during a Pharmacology session to answer a question involving the selectivity of a Beta-antagonist.  Being the exemplary pharmacology whiz that I am, I punted and guessed something that stuck in my head.  Wrong.  I looked to my peers who whispered the correct answer and called it out.  Wrong again.  I looked to other peers for more choices and tried to follow the prof's coaching. Wrong again.  After what seemed like an hour, I stumbled on the designated response and was allowed to return, licking my wounds to the anonymity of being a less-active participant in the lecture.

I am never going to earn a prescription pad.  Mark my words, I will be forced to "prescribe" Skittles to my patients.  If those don't work, we'll move to either M&Ms or Reese's Pieces.  The options are pretty much unlimited.

This Is War

Not that I'm finished collecting my thoughts about my first year or anything, mind you, but it's day 4 of the 2nd year and I'm feeling like I've been in the trenches for months.  All that bullshit "pie-in-the-sky" thinking that I'd be able to sneak off to see Winning Run in Seattle are teetering on the edge of the sinkhole that is being a med student. 

Seriously.  Day 4.  Monday.  Tuesday.  Wednesday.  Today.

In other news, I feel like I've learned a bunch in these four days.  It is stunning what you can learn when terrified / trying / overwhelmed / sleep-deprived / enjoying it.

More from the front lines, soon.  I promise.