Purgatory

Today was one of those days when I question why I ever wanted to be a doctor.  And it's one of those days I have to remind myself that it's about the end goal, not all the stuff in between.  Second year is this amorphous limbo between pre-clinical and clinical training.  You know enough to get around a patient interview, but you suck at it.

After a rough interview with a difficult patient (the nice, talkative ones don't give good histories), several of us presented to an attending physician (who isn't exactly my biggest fan).  He pretty much thinks we're a joke.

We do this once every month or two, but we're expected to be flawless in the delivery.  Except this is one of the fallacies of medical school: they don't tell you how to do something, only that you've done it wrong and need to instantaneously figure out how to fix it on your own.  I got nailed for not doing my physical exam presentation in a "logical order."  I grouped by systems, and followed our written guide.  But nope, that wasn't what we were supposed to do.  I really, really wish I had a photographic memory or psychic mind-reading abilities.  Because I'd be a dynamite student if I had even one of the two!!

After we gave the report, the physician took us back to the patient's room where he rechecked all of our findings.  I'm really not sure why he does this, because he never uses the opportunity to point out interesting things that we missed or measured incorrectly.  Today's exchange with the patient went something like:

MD: "Sir, thanks so much for helping these students"
Patient: "No, no, they helped ME!"
MD: "Well, these students can use ALL the help they can get" (he was serious)

I admit that I probably get more out of this kind of demeaning experience than if the attending spit out rainbows and butterflies, because I tend to fixate on these remarks.  Yes, I am well aware that this is only the beginning of the hazing.  But still, there's no end in sight to being the low man on the totem pole, and it stinks.

While trying to drown out the crotchety old guy in the corner yelling at the nurse, and the raunchy dialog of a soap opera in the other corner, and the low blows from my preceptor, I closed my eyes and thought over and over:

"I want to be a doctor"
"I want to be a doctor"
"I want to be a doctor"


And I made it through the rest of the day, almost unscathed.

I'm GOING to do this.

Kelsey's visiting me in Charleston and we went to see the Angel Oak Tree, which is estimated to be over 1400 years old.  Here are a few pictures we took:

So I've been inspired to share my wonderful respect for taxes.  Don't get me wrong, I definitely think there are worthwhile programs.

First problem: US mail.  If they're going to charge an arm and a leg to ensure delivery of certified mail, you better freaking deliver it.  I want my money back.  USPS lost an extremely important application that could affect my medical career.

Second problem: stupid scientific research funding.  The FDA wins a Darwin Award for funding a team of scientist to each food-coloring color.  And there aren't just four colors- there's blue #1, blue #2, etc.  So each subcategory gets a team headed by a PhD.  Granted, food safety is a priority, but this is pretty ridiculous.  My solution: re-home the research mice to parents who argue that food coloring is linked to developmental disorders.  Chasing mice should solve any ADHD problems.

As both a tribute to the company that cleaned my carpet, Charleston Citrus Solutions, and complaint to my dog: my carpet was spotless and citrus-y smelling...but only for 24 hours!!  Bandaid has managed to have 4 accidents today, between upper GI and lower GI "explosions."  They were gracious enough to leave me extra spot cleaner after they saw the residual spots...probably enough for a year (for an average person).  But I've used almost half of it in 2 days.

Now I know why I don't have any time...it all makes sense now.

In honor of finally finding the courage to see a cardiologist for a second time (the first one told me I was nuts), I thought I would share this cuteness with you all:

I'm pretty sure this is what's up with me, and so I'm excited at the possibility of feeling "normal" again!!!

So I enjoyed the day off from school today, although not so much the icy weather.  I'm trying to catch up on a blog following an instructor's 3- or 4-year-old daughter through cancer, just diagnosed last month.  He's an anesthesiologist who does a lot of our clinical lectures...I often found it difficult to enjoy his lectures, usually tinged with "doctor personality," but reading about what he and his family are going through has made me rethink first impressions.

Anyway, if anyone is interested:

Praying for Ansley

No ideas...so today's post:

bandaid enjoying his first snow:

one of the absolute funniest pictures ever: