Then Came the Morning

My flight had been postponed for the following morning and I was riding in a shuttle to some crappy hotel in Atlanta. In between small talk with the driver and an 18-year old newly enlisted soldier on his way to boot camp, I managed to catch bits of the talk radio program playing in the background. The speaker, an older man with a voice that could have given Morgan Freeman a run for his money, was speaking about the journeys this life takes us on. The quote that resonated with me, at that time just a med school hopeful fresh out of a medical school interview, was this:

"If we knew how hard the journey was going to be, we would never take the first step."

And I think most of us, regardless of what life paths we're cruising along, would agree with that statement. Because goals are great, and dreams are...well, fun to dream about. But when you're in the thick of things it can be easy to forget why you started in the first place.

Now that I have taken survived boards, the real "school" portion of my life has pretty much come to a close. No more entire days spent studying in the library. No more case reading lists and PBL exams and flash cards filled with "high yield" facts. There were times during these past two years when I doubted this path I worked so hard to get on. And from time to time, those words I randomly heard on a rainy night in Georgia, when I was exhausted and far from home, come back to me. And I am glad there was no way I could have known then what the first two years of medical school would hold for me.  Because I know now what I might not have believed then. That though stressful times would come, I would not only get through them, but be strengthened by them. And with every passing exam, I would grow more confident in myself as a future physician and as a person.

One week from today I officially start my third year in a hospital seeing patients every day. After two years of burying my head in books, I am so excited to be back among the living. And while I am sure there will be tough times in the next two years, for now I remain blissfully, and thankfully, unaware.

The Final Countdown

"No. When the sternocleidomastoid contracts, your head looks to the opposite side of the contracting muscle."

The EM intern stared incredulously at the GIANT man nurse (seriously, this guy was a huge dude) who was schooling him on neck anatomy. While Dr. Shaky-Hands (a nickname I secretly gave him after watching him butcher a central line) timidly tried to figure out the mysteries of the SCM, his attending walked by and barked an order at him, which sent him running, and that was that.

The entire interaction lasted all of 5 seconds. And because of it I will always remember that when the SCM contracts unilaterally, the head turns to the opposite side of the activated muscle. One tiny factoid I randomly learned years ago that still helps me on OMM/Anatomy questions.

One week from tomorrow I'll take the first of my two board exams. Which is kind of a big deal. Any medical student will tell you, starting with the very first day of medical school, everything is about boards. Boards boards boards. They determine a lot. What specialties you're competitive for, what residencies you have a shot at matching to, etc. Like I said, kind of a big deal. As you can imagine, this weekend I've been doing my best to keep the panic at bay.

I haven't studied enough! 

I should probably post-pone my exam... 

There is no way I know everything I need to know for this thing. 

I'm out of coffee. Nooooooo!!!

Earlier today, I had a practice question about the SCM, and was reminded that I have been preparing for this exam for years. I have studied enough. I am not going to post-pone my exam (not gonna lie, a pretty big factor in this decision is that I wouldn't get to go home and drink margaritas by my pool before I start rotations, but whatever). And no, I won't know everything I "need to know." There is simply too much.

But in the next seven days, in addition to making one last pass through First-Aid and replenishing my coffee supply, I am going to to trust that I know more than I think I know. And keep my fingers crossed for at least one question about the SCM. ;)

Two Truths

As of about 10:30 this morning I finished my second year of medical school. Woo! Though I still have to take boards (I hear they're kind of a big deal), next month I start clinical rotations. That means I'll be trading the library for a hospital and my sweat pants for scrubs. At this point, it seems almost too good to be true. If I had to spend another year confined to a library, I am 92% confident I would lose my mind.

Truthfully, it's difficult for me to believe that these didactic years are coming to a close. During the first week of school, one of our professors reminded us that the next two years were hellacious, but finite. And in twenty-two short months, they would be over. But somewhere between reading pathology and figuring out how exactly to do an H&P, it's easy to forget that this season of life is just that -- a season. So here I am now, weeks away from taking boards and wondering what life next year will look like. During the past two years I have learned a lot - about medicine and myself. And while I know there is still so much more to learn, I wanted to reflect on what I know to be true. So, this post does consist of a list (my favorite!) -- though it is a very short one. The two most important things I have learned this far in medical school are:

1. We must build each other up
2. Work hard and be kind

Now, before you freak out and wonder what kind of crazy medical school I go to, rest assured. I am plagued by pharmacology and pathology, the idiosyncrasies of renal physiology, and the never ending confusion of immunology just like every other under-slept and over caffeinated punk in a short white coat. And, yes, knowing your stuff and being able to answer questions correctly on exams (and ultimately figure out what is going on with your patients) is imperative. But I can learn all of that from a book. And what I don't fully understand on paper will eventually make sense on rotations once I see the pathology manifested in a living (hopefully) breathing human.

But those two things are what I have truly struggled with for the past twenty-two months. Reaching out to a classmate when it's obvious they're frustrated and stress. Refraining from class gossip about who failed what or messed up during a practical. Trying to finish that last chapter when its 1am and the words about renal pathology are swirling together so much that they are actually starting to look like glomeruli. Stopping by my favorite administrator's office to ask about her sick cat, when all I want to do is go home and study. These are the things that are really important. These are the things that aren't written on a syllabus.

There is a joke I once heard about a commencement speaker at some medical school graduation. During his speech he states that because of the ever-changing nature of medicine and advances in science, "unfortunately half of everything we taught you here is wrong. We just don't know which half." So while its guaranteed that some of what I have learned from a book will change twenty years from now, I am confident that those two life learning objectives will always be appropriate.

These past two years have been a crazy, awesome, stressful ride. And I am sure the next two will be no different. I hope that two years from now I'll have mastered both of my truths a little better. (I'll also be crazy freaking excited to graduate!!!)

So here's to being half way done with this ridiculous journey! And to anyone else who is mere days/weeks away from taking boards -- trust your preparation and believe that we got this!

The Ann Perkins to My Leslie Knope

When I was a pre-med undergrad, I never missed a chance to hear medical students speak about their experiences in medical school. One thing that they always mentioned was how important having a solid support system was. Now, as I enter into full blown board studying and am about to reach the most stressful part of a very academically (and emotionally) taxing 2 years, I get that sentiment more than ever. Most people just can't get through something as stressful as medical school alone. Lucky for me I have an awesome support system, captained by best, best friend Shannon (no, one best was not enough). Shannon is pretty much the coolest, most awesome, prettiest person ever. And she has got being a best friend on LOCK DOWN. For example, Shannon is who I call when...

I think I passed a test.
I think I failed a test.
I'm worried I broke my cat - this happened twice this week.
I can't sleep.
I don't know what to eat for lunch.
I can't remember a plot line in Friends.
I'm on the verge of baking cookies for a kind and handsome stranger and need to know if it's creepy.
I really, really, really need to analyze ever single minute of the Bachelor/ette.
I don't remember what things people who don't study all the time do.
I need to vent and/or cry.
I need her to look up the satisfaction ratings of a casserole dish when I'm at the store, ready to buy it.
I just did something stupid - this one happens a LOT.
I need her to help me pull off operation Mother's Day from across the country.
I'm bored.
I don't know how to set up my appleTV.
I don't know how to fix my appleTV.
I miss home.

If you're reading this and thinking, wow. This sounds like a lot of give, give give on Shannon's part, you're right. I definitely got the sweet end of this friendship deal. Though, I do send her cat selfies on a very regular basis. Like this one!

And this...

And this...I especially love the look of desperation in Jack's face in this last one. 

While it mega-blows that we live far apart, I am so lucky to have a friend who loves me always, encourages me constantly, and isn't afraid to tell me when I'm being a brat (pshh...like that ever happens).

Love you, buddy! 2,058 miles ain't got nothin' on us. :)

Here's Your Sign

As I walked down the steps of our lecture hall, the setting of all my academic battles for the past 2 years, I felt the stress melt away. I had just finished my last big exam of second year (before boards, anyway). I felt light. I felt free. (I felt tired, too. But mostly light/free.)

I smiled at my exam preceptor as I turned in the exam packet. I lightly tossed my scantron in the scantron box, watching nonchalantly as it floated down to join the others.

I walked back up the stairs, past all the poor schmucks who were still taking the test. As I left the lecture hall, I breathed a huge sigh of relief. I walked down the hallway, smiling at all the tough questions I knew I had gotten right.

Self, you are so smart.

Self, you worked so hard.

Self, you really are going to be a doctor!

Self, thwack. OUCH.

Apparently, I was so caught up in the bliss of a triumphant conclusion to PBL that as I was going outside, I hit myself. In the face. With a door.

I checked to make sure that no one saw what had just happened. And went home to take a seven hour nap. And ice my face.

So, if you've ever had an encounter with a medical student, and asked yourself, "how do they not fall down more?" It's because they're too busy hitting themselves in the face. With doors. :)

Flora

I've been trying to remember important moments that we shared while I was growing up.

I remember you leading me and Jonathan into the Cracker Barrel gift shop while we were on vacation and telling us we could pick out anything we wanted.

I remember you and Papa throwing a giant birthday party for all of the Arizona grand kids while we were in Disney World, to make up for all the parties you had missed.

I remember you asking me where I got my curly hair from and when I responded from my dad, you laughed and asked me who I thought had given him his curls.

The specific moments are blurred and slightly faded. And there aren't nearly enough of them, with us living on opposite sides of the country. But I will always remember how you made me feel - so cherished and so loved.

This past Saturday, I was reminded that I am not the only one who will remember you that way. Yours was a life spent loving and cherishing people. And, if I end up loving people even half as much as you managed to, I'll consider it a life well spent.

Livin' the Dream

I've been doing a decent job of not succumbing to the pre-board panic epidemic that is currently running through my class like wildfire. I am still showering regularly. Most of my meals don't come pre-packaged. And I am BUSTING through Parks and Rec (thanks Netflix). With all that being said, I have been having some pretty interesting dreams this semester. So I'm starting to think that maybe, just maybe, my subconcious is starting to feel the pressure. Here are a few examples...

I am studying in one of the study rooms at school. All of a sudden the room turns into a dungeon that is being guarded by a giant crocodile. Apparently this ROUS (reptile of unusual size) is invisible to everyone but me. Because I watch it eat everyone that tries to come and rescue me. Even Lorelei Gilmore. Who was bringing me coffee. Gah...

I am studying at school, in the same room as the above dream, when I feel something in my mouth. I spit out said object into my hand and its a tooth. So, I just toss it in the giant pile of my teeth that is already sitting on the table next to me, and continue studying path. No biggie...

I'm driving in the middle of Nowhere, USA when my truck breaks down. Have no fear, the creepy/persistent guy that had a crush on me in high school is there in an instant. Literally, out of nowhere. Ready to jump start my Tacoma and ask for my hand in marriage. Thanks, Jared. 

And the newest addition...

I'm working in the cadaver lab when I accidentally boil a human heart and lungs in a crockpot. Oops. Then I freak out because I have to tell my PI (principle investigator - real lab lingo, I promise) what I've done. (Note: I don't freak out that I have just boiled another human's heart. No, that's absurd.) I finally get up the courage to tell my mystery PI and walk into his office. Once inside I find Brad Pitt (the PI) who is nonchalantly cleaning his shiny black motorcycle in what appears to be an auto body shop. Once I tell him the news he laughs and says that happens all the time. Oh, and not to let anyone eat the heart and lungs. 

I've got to admit, my subconscious is pretty creative. Plus I don't mind sharing my REM sleep with Brad Pitt. White coats and motorcycles? Yes, please. ;)