"Lunching"

I've never really "lunched" before until today. Of course, I've eaten lunch, been to lunch, gone out for lunch, and attended luncheons. All of which are very different from lunching. Lunching occurs only at specific restaurants, with specific people (usually old ones), and involves thousands of dollars and at least 3 hours (in this case 4). It also involves sampling everything on the menu, and many, many, many, bottles of wine.

So why (you may ask) was I privy to such an occasion? Because I'm a med student. In a rock-star school in a rock-star city, and a first year rep for a rock-star history of medicine society. A couple of our professors, who must be somewhere around 200 years old, took 14 of us out to lunch at a well respected, ridic-expensive (they lost 2.8 million dollars in wine alone in Hurricane K), older than dirt restaurant in the FQ. It was fabulous.

And I'm not going to lie, it felt lovely to walk through the front doors and say "I'm with the school of medicine party".... ever-so-nonchalantly of course...

REAL PROFILES

I've started something new. On the side bar I've started listing everyone I personally know who has journeyed to med school, law school, dental school or nursing school.... and a few details about them. Some are traditional students, some non-trads, and some are REALLY non-trads. The point is to see that there are WAYYY more who've had difficulty getting in than those who breezed in with perfect grades and scores directly out of undergrad. And some with perfect scores and grades who never got in at all. As I remember more, I'll add to the list...

PS: NONE of these are students in my med school class. They are all from my previous life.

Thoughts on Internal Medicine

In theory, internal medicine sounds like something I should be interested in. It truly is where the "real medicine" happens. It's where the really sick people are. Where you see pathology, and where you get to fix it. That's the one thing that scares me about EM. I don't really like following patients over time (like years), but I really do like acute medicine. Figuring out what the problem is and actually fixing it. Not just handing it off to whomever is my best guess... as is what EM docs usually do.

Anyway, last night I went to the Internal Medicine annual wine and cheese awards ceremony banquet. Which was nice. Hey, I'm all for any party that involves getting dressed up and free wine and delice de bourgogne. Here's the problem. Thus far, (in life, not just since med school started) I have never met ANYONE in IM that I really liked. IM is like a secret club that you aren't invited to, yet you don't really even want an invitation.

I mean, last night the chair of IM got up to say why he chose IM, and all he could talk about was how he liked carrying people to their death. I mean, seriously? That's it? That is supposed to inspire a group of students to follow in his footsteps? And frankly, the IM folks seem a little, well, anal. OCD. Over the top. I guess that's a good thing if you're a patient... but to work in that environment? I mean, EM seems significantly more quirky, ADD, and fun. Medicine seems like stress, pressure and politics (not that politics don't exist everywhere I KNOW).

Any thoughts on this? I'd love to be convinced otherwise....

Oops

Me and my big mouth. So for my stupid foundations class we have to go for an ambulance ride. Which in theory (like everything in the class) SHOULD be cool. But no, they really have to fuck up most everything. Like today, for example. A group of 30 or so of us were in EMS orientation, and they informed us that we have to wear dress clothes and a white coat on our ambulance ride. FOR REAL? Have they ever even BEEN on a freakin' ambulance? Anyway, I groaned way too loudly and accidentally (well, sort of accidentally) said "great, we're going to look like total douche-bags" out loud. Which of course we will be. No doubt.

The class seemed to be in agreement and partially amused. The instructor, not so much.

2 for 2

Well actually, 3 for 2. Last night was my 2nd ED shift, and we had not 1 but 2 GSW victims. One victim was shot multiple times... and in the face. As horrible as that sounds, it was awesome.

So out of 2 shifts, 3 GSW. I'm twitter-pated & IN LOVE with this ED.

This Will Hurt Me More than It Hurts You.... Well... maybe not

Today at my preceptor (the bariatric surgeon) I watched from the corner of the room where he totally botched a drain. Poor lady. She was trying to get her lap-band drained... but the doc couldn't find the spot. For like 15 minutes. He poked her over and over and over and over and over again. And the needle wasn't small folks. And it was inside her abdomen at least 4 inches while he wriggled around (rather aggressively) trying to find the spot.

I thought I would pass out. Hot, nervous, increased pulse. That's me being a sympathetic physician again. Ella, this is happening to the PATIENT. Not to you. Get over it.

Stool Fat Analysis, Right?

Today my mentor/friend Dr. J gave a physiology lecture on the pancreas. We've worked together for years... and although we currently aren't working together officially, we're both part of the med school and we have lunch or dinner once in a while.

So Dr. J is one of those guys who needs a lot of feedback during lectures. Like nods and "uh hums"... just so he feels everyone is on the same page. Problem is, since I'm the only one in class he knows well, he keeps looking to me. So like a giant gunner asshole, I'm nodding and "uh hum-ing" every few minutes. No sweat, worth the sacrifice. I'm a good friend.

Then he starts talking about pancreatic function tests. Specifically stool fat analysis. So when he says "stool fat analysis" he points to me (in front of 180 of my classmates) and says "Right?".

Now, because I know how his little brain works, I know that he was referencing a huge study where we assessed pancreatic function. This study was a massive pain in the ass and the bane of my existence for over a year. I almost killed him because he wanted me to collect stool fat. In the end we compromised and I agreed to do the study, but I got to hire someone else to do the stool collecting/processing.

But he doesn't actually say something to the effect of "Ella worked on a pancreatic study in our dept. that involved these tests". No. Nothing. Just points to me after he says stool fat. Sweet. Now my classmates think I have a personal problem.

Ok, I'm Done

I just realized that I have officially been bitching about life for a month now. Time to stop. Grief, anger, bargaining, denial, yada yada. Ok, I'm going to try to be happy from now on. We'll see how that works out.

Things that are good today.

1. Biochem is over? Hopefully?

2. Fresh lemon curd from the farmers market. Ridic-u-delish-ous!

3. Peace

4. Quiet

5. 2 compliments on my hair.... and I didn't even change anything :)

6. Going to the ER this week. Yay!

7. History of Medicine Society is having our fancy schmancy banquet this weekend.

8. My basil and arugula has sprouted

9. I went running yesterday

10. I'm actually going on a class camping trip in 2 weeks. Probably. (I'm bad with committment)

Please oh Please

Let me have passed my biochem exam this morning. I studied hard, but there were definitely questions that were, well, questionable. Pray for me. Because if I passed, I will be done with Biochem. Forever. Yay!!!

UPDATE #1 - Exam passed (with a decent score, actually)... now to see if I passed the class!

UPDATE #2 - Course PASSED! Biochem O-V-E-R

Starting to Believe

In curses, voodoo, black magic. Somebody must be really pissed at me out there.

Something Unreal

Picture this. It's say.... Tuesday night 8:00 pm. Make-up test tomorrow (after missing tons of school) that you're mostly prepared for. Boyfriend comes over to watch movies and spend the night. So you watch a few back episodes of Lost, then go to bed at midnight.

But for some unknown reason you can't sleep... so at 2:00am you both end up waking up, getting a glass of water etc. Only for a second unknown reason an argument ensues... and ultimately, after a several hour discussion, you both decide to end your 3-year relationship. Sadly. (this is a real break-up by the way. first time. not one of those "pissed off tonight see you tomorrow" break-ups). So he packs his stuff and leaves. Look at the clock. It's 6:30 am. Ok, no sweat. Test at 1:00 pm. You decide to sleep for a few hours, exhausted from tears and emotions.

10:00 am. Phone call from your mother. Your grandmother just died. And then she hits you with a 2nd piece of information too devastating and personal to write on a blog. Holy shit.

Processing. Can you really pull off a make-up exam? Certainly you can't postpone because it's already a MAKE-UP exam. And you just missed several weeks of school. And you are trying to prove to your professors that you aren't the biggest flake on the planet. So you decide to tough it out, blurry mind, stunned from 3 pieces of bad news, and running on 3 hours of sleep.

The tears welled up several times. But I zenned my way out of it. Focus. Words are blurry. Ears are hot. Can't breathe. Fill in the bubbles. What subject is this anyway?

Somehow I pulled off 85%. That was my Thursday.