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.