Please Don't Mind The Echo, or, How I Got Into Medical School

So let's just get it out of the way that my second medical school acceptance call, for the school I now attend, was totally normal.  I was sitting on the couch playing video games with my husband when my phone rang.  I answered, the friendly admissions lady on the other end told me I'd been accepted, I thanked her profusely, and we hung up.  It was quite nice.

This is not about that phone call.  This is about my first med school acceptance call, and it involves one of the most private of places.  Let's start at the beginning.

The application process for medical school has several steps and takes about 6 months.  After taking the MCAT (which is its own 6-month ordeal) a student has to make it through primary and secondary applications, as well as a formal interview.  Using this body of information, the school makes a decision on who gets admitted to the incoming class.  The acceptance rate is below 15% at most medical schools.

I didn't have very good grades for the first 2 years of college, courtesy of balancing real life crap and school.  This meant when I talked to my premed counselor during my junior year, he sighed deeply and informed me that I wasn't a competitive applicant.  I let that pronouncement eat at me over the next year, even after doing well on the MCAT.  I tell you all of this so you will understand just how on edge I was during this process.  By the time I'd made it to the interview stage, I was practically vibrating with nerves.

Cut to November of my senior year.  I'd just had my first! ever! interview and was in that terrifying period just after: waiting for a response.  This particular afternoon I was hard at work in my college's histology lab, memorising slides with my fellow premeds, several of whom were also anxiously awaiting answers.  And like good premed seniors, we had our cell phones with us.  Always.  ALWAYS.  I would set my phone on the edge of the tub when I showered; otherwise it stayed in my pocket or my hand, where I would glance at it constantly.  It had been a week of this, and this day was no different. 

Until I had to pee.  Perhaps you see where this is headed.

I tossed my phone to one of my friends with strict instructions to answer for me if an unknown number called and tell them I would call back.  And I was still sitting on the toilet contemplating life when the main bathroom door slammed open and I heard my friend's half hysterical voice ring out.

"Zoe!  Someone called for you!  Where are you?  I'm bringing you the phone!"

"What?  Don't answer!  I can't talk to them right n-"

"No, no, it's too late, I already picked up, she wants to talk to you-"

"But - wait - "

It was indeed too late.  A hand shoved my phone unceremoniously under the stall door and shook it excitedly.  In a panic, I Kegel'd harder than any woman ever has in history, accepted my bloody phone, and squeaked, "He- hello?"

"Is this Zoe?"

"Yes, yes it is."  No.  Oh my goodness, no.  This cannot be happening.  Squeeze, Zoe.  Squeeze!

"Hi, this is Admissions Lady from The Medical School."

"Uh, ha, hi.  What can I do for you?"  Must talk less.  What if she hears the echo?  Oh, please, Lord, please don't let her notice an echo.  Please.

"I wanted to thank you for coming out to see our school, and I also wanted to let you know that we have decided to accept you into our school's incoming class."

Pause.

"Hello?  Zoe?"

I honestly don't remember what I said after that or how I got off the phone, because all I could focus on was that if I gave full rein to my relief and gratitude... well.  I really didn't need that poor lady on the phone to hear just how relieved I was.  I do know that I laughed uncontrollably for about five minutes afterwards.  As did both my mother and mother-in-law when I told them what happened.

There are some good lessons to be learned from this.
1. We often speak of God's perfect timing.  I would like to emphasize that He also has perfect comedic timing.
2.  Sometimes we will be blessed by having humility baked into a set of circumstances.  I can never talk about how I got into medical school without that story, and it is a beautiful demonstration of how little I actually control.

Hx - But really.

I have been drowning in work.  Nature of the beast, I know.

I am so tired.  And I have so much work to do.  Two exams this week, two next week.  This semester is not fun and honestly, I'm struggling.  I have the vague memory of doing this at the beginning of last semester - fighting to find some sort of balance - and it being hard, but mostly I'm stuck in the present, and the present is this cycle of being exhausted and falling behind, panicking, wearing myself out the second I have any energy, having one really productive day, and then being exhausted.  It seems like my classmates are for the most part going through the same issues. 

I choked during a practical yesterday.  Really choked, which is something I don't remember ever doing before (I really mean that.  I am not someone who generally has trouble with stress).  It was OMM and I was perfect during the diagnosis bit, but then I treated my partner incorrectly three times in a row.  Three times.  Then it was my partner's turn and he was just fine.  When he was finished the instructor looked at me and said, "Now Zoe.  How do you treat a downslipped innominate shear.  Tell me about it."  This is what my partner had, when half of the pelvis has slipped down a bit compared to the other half.  This is REALLY EASY to treat; if it is down, push it up.  How do we do that?  Well, it's only the easiest and most hands-off treatment that exists on this planet.  The patient bounces that side's ischial tuberosity (bony part of your butt) on the edge of the exam table a few times.  The correct treatment was for my partner to bounce on his butt on the edge of the table and it still took me three attempts and then, when asked yet again, another two full seconds to realise it.  When I did, I was mortified.  I mean, come on.  COME ON.  Ugh.

Okay.  Neuroanatomy time.

Hx - Light ahead?

So you might say that blogs are my coping mechanism this semester.  And I just read an entry that gives me hope, not just that things will get better at some point, but that things can get good.

Read this post and you will see what I mean.

I want that.  THAT.  thatthatthatthatthat (er, minus the babies and possibly the yoga).  And it is so good to know that it is possible to slog through the next five years and come out the other side and be able to NOT work all the time.  I will have the option of being selfish, of setting boundaries.  I understand the sacrifice I'd be making, of course.  Those who are excellent are not usually happy or balanced, and vice versa.  But when I look ahead I see my options fanning out in front of me now; it's not just about being the best doctor possible and saving! the! world! and becoming this Doctor that everyone admires unconditionally.  That's what I dreamed of, vaguely, growing up.  Now, however, I can see that I would be happy in a different way just doing what I can at work, being just a doctor, and coming home and having time to be happy, to write, to read (to dig into my Bible!  oh!), to sleep.  To have friends.  To have a husband who gets to see me every day (or close to).  I love what EMPhysician said:

"I believe that being rich means having choices, period. Money certainly allows for more choices (to a point), and is therefore a necessary part of the equation. But, choosing how you spend your time, where you spend your time, who you spend your time with, etc...for me actually defines "rich." If I'm working 25 shifts/month, I may have a $30,000+ bring home salary/month, but really, I'm not rich if I have to go to work frikin 25 days/month!!"

So true.  And one thing I have ALREADY learned from my tiny amount of time doing this is that I don't feel fulfilled by being hardcore.  Working my butt off and being exhausted and not having time for anyone (including myself) doesn't make me feel good, it just makes me feel neglectful, neglected and tired.  Don't get me wrong.  I am more than willing to do what it takes to succeed over the next five or six years.  I'm committed to that, and I've made my peace with it.  But a large part of that being okay is the hope that there is something better on the other side of the mountain.  I think if I knew without a doubt that I would always be working this hard and feeling this downtrodden, I would have to quit and... I don't know, go get my master's and do [shudder] research or something.  Whatever, you get the point. 

I don't think I want to sacrifice myself for my profession anymore; I don't think it would be worth it.  And maybe it's a lesser goal, but I think I'd rather try to be happy.

Hx - School is SO UNDER CONTROL GUYS SRSLY

I finished day 3 of the new semester today.  My classes are as follows:

Medical Spanish - 1 cr
Clinical Epidemiology - 1 cr
OMM II - 2 cr
Clinical Skilz I - 3 cr
Neuroanatomy - 4 cr
Physiology - 6 cr
Microbiology/ Immunology - 6 cr

TOTAL: 23 cr

I have had all my classes except OMM, which meets tomorrow and will have few surprises.  So I think I have a decent handle on what things will be like this semester.

...And it looks ballbreaking.  I sort of can't believe I thought I had it tough last semester.  Clinical Skilz is a flurry of medical jargon; all the students stare around at each other in total confusion.  Physiology isn't too bad yet, but I have 6 hours of lecture a week, so things can only go downhill.  Micro is already piling up, and this class is a bit strange because it is a bunch of stuff I already know with new things stuck in at odd places in the material.  Spanish met for the first time tonight and was hilarious because I learned how to count and say the days of the week and greet people and such.  [snicker]  And Clinical Epi seems like it will mostly not register on my radar until I have to cram for a midterm or final.  But none of this matters, because I am taking Neuroanatomy, and Neuro is to be the main focus of my life for the next few months.

There isn't a good way to describe how big this class is.  Just... imagine all of the stuff your brain does.  All of the ways it processes different types of information, decides what to do with that information, and then carries out its decisions, often through the spinal cord and nerves in the rest of the body.  Some part of this happens with each thought, each brush of your clothing against your skin, each inhalation, each blink, each new song, each stressful set of circumstances.  All of these things can be condensed into a set of neurological responses that get cycled through various parts of the brain/ nerves.  I have to be able to trace these out on an actual brain/ spinal cord while being able to describe what is actually happening (chemically and functionally) and figuring out what would go wrong if anything were injured (and vice versa).  My profs have this class highly organised so that we students have great access to a lot of really helpful information that is packaged for maximum retention, but none of that changes the fact that THIS IS A LOT OF STUFF. [panic]

There are two things that keep this semester from being totally overwhelming (just 80% overwhelming).  1. God is in control and I know that "in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose."  There were many times last semester when this was my only comfort, the only thing that kept me from totally giving up on something.  2. All of the material this semester is so cool!  I already know how to take blood pressure and do a basic eye exam.  And today my neuro lab group looked at a real brain and for the first time, all the folds and dips and nubby bits started to make sense.  That was just the best.

This entry is jumbled, sorry.  But that is what is going on right now.  28 hours of class a week and not much else.  This is the hardest one.  Time to put my head down.

Hx - El Semestre Dos

I start school tomorrow.  8am - 5pm.  There are better things.  There are also technically worse things.

I have decided to give in to the urge to rewrite one of my classes' names, so from now on I am taking Clinical Sk1lz I.  w00t.


...OH.  I got my doctor tools today!  So now I have a dark green!stethoscope and an ophthalmoscope and an otoscope and a... blood pressure thingy... scope... and scissors and tuning forks and reflex hammers and it's all in a navy leather doctor bag!  YAY!!  This alone makes me excited about the semester, even if looking at my first set of neuroanatomy notes made me properly comatose literally within two minutes.  It's okay!  Because I am taking clinical sk1lz and OMM and physiology and medical spanish (I will learn the word for gallbladder.  This is hilarious to me) and who knows, maybe the virology and parasitology units of microbiology will be as wicked as they sound.

Note from the future: I will not be learning the word for gallbladder.  Thyroid, yes; gallbladder, unfortunately not.  Also.  The instrument that lets you take blood pressure is called a sphygmomanometer. See, I do learn things.

Hx - no title

So I've had several days to normalise (read: see real friends and stay up too late and sleep in) and I am feeling much better and am now enjoying my time off. I spent a decent chunk of the weekend tutoring a classmate in the anatomy lab; poor thing, she'd gotten sick during the semester and had to put off a test until the Monday after finals. It was creepy being in the cadaver lab when it was half dismantled with no one else in there, but it helped to close off the semester for me. I don't really expect that to make sense to most of you because I don't fully understand it myself. My mother (who has her bachelor's in nursing - and that is insanely hard) does, though, which supports my vague theory that when you have poured yourself continuously into something that demands all of you, it is more stressful to simply stop abruptly than it is to taper off gently. Of course nothing about school is gentle, so I take it as a strange but excellent sort of gift that I got to phase school out of my system this time instead of just turning it off like a tap.

In other news, today I (re)learned how to purl. My mother taught me this stuff fully a decade ago and I totally ignored her, so now I have to learn it again as my ambition outstrips my skills. I can't just make garter stitch wool scarves for the rest of my life. Not that I've graduated out of scarves, ha! But the one I'm making now has got stripes, and maybe I'll be able to put patterns in the next one, and then
who knows what evil I could accomplish
I'll take over the world
I could strangle annoying people with cable knit
maybe a hat? Watch out annoying people and world circular needles, I'm coming for you!

I have no good way to end this post. Aren't you glad my writing skills are starting to atrophy? I KNOW I AM.

Hx - I know this is weird, but

finals are finished and not being in school so suddenly kind of makes me want to die. I am assuming this is a really strange response to the sudden cessation of stress, which is in itself a kind of stress and really I just want to curl up in a hole.

Break is meant to be a Good Thing! I FEEL CHEATED.

Hx - Hours

More often than not, it is a pain that I am most productive and efficient after midnight. Example: I have an exam at 10am tomorrow, but I couldn't settle down for long periods of time to work until about 20 minutes ago. In that 20 minutes I accomplished more than I managed to do in the last 2 hours, so naturally I am celebrating by taking a break.

Clearly I am made to work a strange shift in a hospital, or be the urgent care doc for a practice because I work well when most other people are winding down. It wouldn't be a problem if I could just go to bed at 2am each night and get up at 9:30 or 10 every morning. But no. I have to be up with the rest of the normals at seven. Or earlier.  Makes a girl want to get her own practice so she can set her own strange hours.


...KIDDING. I have no wish to start my own practice and -shudder- run a business while spending my days dealing with runny noses and hypertension and "well, I have this pain, and it sort of comes and goes... no, it doesn't hurt now..." No.

AnyZoehatingprivatepractice, I should get back to the science of BORING aging so that I can keep this awesome week of awesome grades going. I can't wait until my very! own! stethoscope! comes in in a month because that signals the beginning of Clinical Sk1lz I and did I mention that I am so excited I could pee myself to have my OWN STETHOSCOPE. And also a blue leather doctor bag. And a whole bunch of other stuff that adds up to a terrifying $1200 and whose purposes remain entirely mysterious to me (an ear insufflator bulb? There are multiple levels of idk contained within that phrase.  Example: what is an ear?). But mostly the stethoscope to hold and love and squeeze and pet and call George.

On to aging!

Hx - On The Ridiculous Hardcore Mentality, OR Finals, Falling

I am still alive. It is finals week. Yesterday was anatomy; I walked in with a solid grade and for sure walked out one grade lower. -sigh- We'd been warned that it would be brutal, but still - a letter grade? Well, that's what cushion is for. Today is (gasp!) a day off; tomorrow I have my OMM two-part final, then Biochem on Thursday and Histology on Friday.

I don't think I'm going to be that exhausted by the end of the week. I'll be tired - obviously - but not so completely exhausted that I will be nonfunctional. I know a lot of my classmates are going totally balls-to-the-wall, but I think that's just because they are immature type-A's who think that you're not "doing it right" if you don't go multiple days without sleep during finals in medical school. Part of me understands where they are coming from; there's this kind of mystique and drama about having to work! so! hard! that you literally can't ever sleep. It's hardcore and other type A's secretly (or openly) respect that. But you know what? There is a reason I studied a ton last week, and that was so I could get regular sleep this week. It's not cheating or slacking, it's planning and time management. And I am walking in to these tests with all passing grades so I have space for things to go wrong. I am realising that this is how medical school is actually supposed to be. You work every day so you don't have to cram; your stories aren't as cool drastic this way, but you get better grades and lose fewer years off your life from stress.

...This is going to sound totally hypocritical after what I just wrote. The way I appease that part of me that insists that sleeping during finals is cheating is by reminding myself that I am absolutely going to do medical missions once I'm a doctor, and go for a couple of months at a time and help out in refugee camps and give shots to tiny babies with kwashiorkor and whatnot. Those people wear themselves out and break their hearts AND pay for the privilege. If that isn't hardcore, I don't know what is.

And now to learn about testosterone - no, not the interesting stuff, that's next semester. Right now all I get to learn is how it's made and where it goes and blah blah blah. A future medical researcher I am not.

Note from the future: Premeds, learn this lesson now.  Spreading stuff out = win.  Cramming + all nighters = fail.  You've been through calc II; this should be easy math for you.

Hx - Fierce? Yes?

4 weeks until finals, and I am terrified.  Well.  Scratch that.  I would be terrified if I weren't so burnt out.  I spent this last weekend trying and mostly failing to study for a histology test until the 11th hour.  Took the test Mon. morning and then went home, skipped anatomy lab to take a 3h nap because if I had gone I guarantee I would have had a nervous break, found out I got a 90 on the test (thank you God, I did NOT deserve that... just like the last five tests...), and proceeded to spend the next six hours sobbing in front of the TV because I am just that bloody miserable. 

Did I mention that I'm kind of a whiner?  QQ

I have to say, though - and this is a total paradox - I am really glad to be here.  In medical school.. As a D.O. student specifically.  I can already fix headaches ad back pain and I have 3 months of school under my belt.  You can't ever tell me that isn't valuable and useful and good.

Hx - Please to win moar faster at t3h med school?

I am currently halfway through week 11 of 17, including finals.  There is a month of classes left and then a week of finals.  I actually only have 3 tests left in the semester.  I keep switching between feeling really energetic and pretty burnt out; today I described it as trying to keep a flame lit when it's out of fuel.  You blow on it and it flares up, but only briefly, and then it's even closer to being out than it was before.  And I don't really understand how I made it this far.  There was more than one time where God basically picked me up and carried me through an exam (or a day or a week) in His arms like a baby, but it still seems impossible that I am still here.  And even though there is nowhere else I would rather be and nothing else I would rather be doing, it's still sort of miserable. 

This entry is totally insipid, I feel like.  But I just don't have much to say.  I fall asleep going over the next day.  I wake myself up in the middle of the night naming arteries.  All of my dreams are about classmates, and I am sick of seeing them during the daytime, let alone in my dreams, and I think this affects my unconscious and wakes me up in the night.  Then I can't wake up in the morning.  I have an anatomy exam coming up Monday that is going to beat me up because I can't really study for it because I just want to sleep all the time, which is either avoidance or exhaustion.  Maybe both. 

[sigh]

But.  Thus far, my grades are all either satisfactory or more than.  At least there's no denying that my exhaustion has been somewhat fruitful.  Like I planted an academic seed and am giving it all my energy and it's actually growing. 

Into a doctor plant. 

Or... yeah.  I'm ridiculous and tired and I'm going to go study anatomy. 


Oh and p.s. I frequently want to tell people in my class to SHUT UP.  Oh, you don't like your own lunch?  You think our dress code's too lax?  Oh, you can't find time to exercise and now you feel fat?  QQ MORE NUB UGH.  I actually started to say 'QQ' to someone the other day and barely caught myself.  I can't be bothered to explain references anymore.

Note from the future: 'QQ' looks like two big cartoon eyes crying.  You're telling someone, "Aw, go cry about it!  NOT.  In truth I have no sympathy for you so stop whining."  For you, I can be bothered.

Hx - Fine print

I miss poetry.  I miss the freedom to be serious, to care deeply and use bold phrases.  I miss long skirts and short hair.  I miss staying up too late.  I miss being able to easily resist the normalising pull of community, of society.  I miss feeling tied to the sun.  Sometimes I don't want to be accomplished, I don't want to be a runner with good grades, nice smile, so agreeable, well-liked, walking obituary.  I want fire.  I want to startle people.  I want courage - the courage to be outcast and honestly known.  I want to stand in the courtyard and be silent with the sky and my God and not tolerate interruptions.

I miss part of myself.  You never realise the cost of dedication until you are already handing it over.  Will I ever write again?  Will I ever be struck by the beauty of the night, or will I simply sigh and go back to dreamlessness?


I miss having a shaved head.  A lot.  I worry that my career will make me into a collage of myself, bits and pieces strung together, nothing at all when you look closely.  Fragments.  Exhaustion.

Hx - God is, indeed, bigger than a first-year's anatomy test/ class. Thanks, God!

I got an 85 on my anatomy test overall, by scraping a 35/50 = 70 (lowest passing grade) on lecture, scoring a 46/50 = 92 on lab, and having 4 bonus points from in-class quizzes.  Combined with the 80 overall I scored on the last exam, I now have a solid B in my 7-credit class. 




YES.  OH YES.

In other news, I once again failed to run for eight minutes straight last night.  This is getting personal.  In other other news, I haven't worn matching socks in at least two weeks.  It is one of my tiny rebellions against a process that tries to normalise, break, and de-soul everyone that endures it.  I can tell that I'm going to start wearing stranger and stranger things just to stay sane amongst all the crushing amounts of studying.

Hx - God is Awesome!

Okay I have a secret.  I can't tell anyone at school beacuse it's not PC

but

we took an anatomy exam this afternoon.  I had a really terrible weekend burning myself out trying to study for it.  I just hit a total mental wall after studying for about 10 straight hours on Saturday.  The whole time, I was just thinking, 'God, it's a good thing you're in charge on the test, because I'm doing a really terrible job managing this myself.'  Anyway, my half of the class had lab (practical - IDing structures on cadavers) first, then the didactic portion (theory, injuries, etc)

and

and

AND

as I handed in the lecture portion of my anatomy exam today, the professor whispered to me, "You did really well on the practical portion of the exam.  Very good."

...!!!!!11!!!1!!one!!

I have no idea if I even passed the lecture portion of the exam, but if I did well enough on the practical part for the professor to notice, it DEFINITELY means my lab grade can carry my grade because each part counts for half the overall test grade.  I almost certainly passed!

[hyperventilates]

In other news, I failed to successfully run 8 minutes straight today.  Next attempt on Wednesday.  It would probably help if I got myself properly hydrated and nourished by then, too.

Hx - Enough!

Okay, can I just say something?  Medical school is hard.  And my class is one test into a seven-test, four week stretch of midterms hell.  People are getting beaten down and discouraged, starting to question themselves and their commitment to medicine.  People are starting to complain a lot and feel totally pessimistic.  Days are filled with nothing but frantic studying, trying to get things done while knowing that it is literally impossible to fully catch up.

But you know what?

I'm happy to be here.

I want to be right where I am.  People are starting to ask things like, "If you won 10 million dollars right now, would you stay?"  Yes, I would.  I'd become a doctor and then get to work for free like I've always wanted.  Because I want to.  Because I'm 22 bloody years old and once the shiny newness of being rich wore off in a few months or a few years, I would have nothing to do and no purpose in life other than being rich, which is ridiculous.  I want to be here and I'm not going to apologise for having a calling instead of a career.  It's not that I love my classes or can't get enough of the time I spend stuck in a room with the same 100 people.  It's that I'm going to be a doctor and that's what I'm made for, and there's nothing more fulfilling than knowing that I'm finally on the direct track to fulfilling my purpose.  I understand that a lot of people are losing their way a little right now, and I have some sympathy for that, but they are making it harder on themselves by staring longingly at the exit every day.

Bottom line:  don't be here if you don't want to be here.

P.S. Did I mention that I'm glad x 15284523487235 that I took histology already?  Because I am.  A whole lot.

Hx - On Fats, and Redeeming Myself.

Yesterday I held a human heart in my hand while my lab groupmate dissected out some of the veins on the surface  But first we had to clean dried blood out of the chambers and it was awesome!  AND I got to finish cutting the sternum with a bone saw and this time, it didn't even faze me.  Pretty much total redemption on the grossness front, I'd say.

In other news, I am currently in biochemistry class, learning about why Fats are Fun.  Or not.

Note from the future: This whole "class" thing becomes quite the debate with me.  As in, I hate class.  So I guess no real debate.  Never mind.

Hx - Anatomy lab is full of The Ick.

Things are moving along.  I had my first true gross-out moment in anatomy lab yesterday; we were cutting the front of the chest wall (read: rib cage) our so we could dissect out the heart and lungs and surrounding bits.  Watching them cut through the ribs wasn't too bad, but then the instructor started pressing down on them to make sure he'd cut all the way through and the ribs started breaking... instant full-body shudders.  It was terrible.  And then we had to suction fluid out of the cavities of the lungs... ugh.  Ugh!  I can't even tell you.  And I was shocked.  I mean, medical students aren't supposed to get grossed out by things, right?  But after talking to some of my classmates I don't feel so bad.  Turns out this is a pretty standard thing; it's just different for everyone.  One girl dry heaves every time someone pulls a blood clot out of a vein.  This one guy almost passed out when we had to skin part of the body for the first time.  But somehow I've never heard anyone acknowledge that cadaver lab is just sort of... gross.  Useful, yes, but also icky.

Other than that...  how quickly my standards change.  B's used to be expected and C's were not okay.  Now C's are great, because at least I passed, and a B is the academic equivalent of a surprise box of Milk Tray.

Test craziness starts again next Tuesday.  First up: biochemistry.

Hx - Pleased

I'm really, really glad I busted my undisciplined undergrad butt last year taking histology.  It is saving me right now.  Exam in that tomorrow.  Then a bit of breathing room!  No huge exam next week, just a small OMM practical, which is sweet.

Note from the future: Premeds, TAKE HISTOLOGY.  And biochemistry.  And any neuroanatomy or neuroscience you can get your hands on.  You will thank yourself every thirty seconds or so during the first year of school.

Hx - no title

Things are grinding along.  After my anatomy test I felt wiped.  So far I am two tests down, and both were C's and both were above the average.  Part of me feels disappointed that I'm not just naturally kicking arse at medical school, but I feel like I have a read now on how much work it takes to earn (yes, earn) a C here.  A lot (more than in college).  My goal is to get a B on the next few tests.

In other news, I never thought I say this, but here it is:

Running saved my sanity yesterday.

I know, shocking.  But when the school year started I decided I would try this stupid running thing because really, it's the least time-and-equipment-consuming form of exercise.  I've graduated, at week four, to running in 3-4 minute periods at about 4.2 miles an hour.  It's not much!  But I've been running three times a week steadily, and at this rate, running for a full half hour WILL BE MINE by the end of the semester.  And yesterday, when I got my exam back, I just felt like I was going to explode, so running helped. 

Hx - School, School, School.

To begin, I suggest you look up 'giraffe in quicksand' on Youtube.  It serves as a good summary of the first year of school.

I'm losing all sense of time, which for someone with as regimented a schedule as I have, is stressful and frustrating.  As one of my classmates said, "The days are long but the weeks are short," which is sort of right and basically means that I can't remember something that happened this morning, but feel like it's only been two days since three weeks ago.  But an eternity since summer, which was... actually, I think that was three weeks ago.  or four.  three.  four.  mmmph.  [shakes head to clear it]

I am slowly losing my home life and have lost what little social life I had.  This is stage 1 of the medical student transition.  Stage 2 is when I find myself growing a new life that is simultaneously home life and social life, and is one with medical school and the people in it.  I AM FIGHTING THIS.  Most medical students lose all ties to the outside world and then, attention-starved, turn to each other (and then - stage 3 - eventually on each other.  I never said this was healthy, just codependent).  I think the downward slide is inevitable but I'm still resisting.  For instance, I am frequently home for dinner, and so far I have ALWAYS been home before 10pm.  I have to see Matt or I'll go postal and kill everyone.  Staying in limbo like this is sort of painful, though, and it's sort of costing me friends all the time, which sometimes doesn't matter to me and sometimes makes me sad.  Whatever, I never made friends easily.  I'm just not used to having to try and unsure if I feel like making the effort.

OMM is still the coolest thing I've ever seen or heard of, though.  I can't wait to start really learning.  Yesterday was the supremely awkward Day of Major Anatomical Landmarks, where we palpated everything from the clavicles to the ankle bones to the sacrum and pubic bones.  Yes, on each other.  Yes, regardless of gender.  Yes, even more awkward things loom in our collective future.  Next semester in OMM is all pelvic and sacral work.  Awkward, but also still the coolest thing ever.