School is now a straight shot from here to finals. I took my last exam of the semester on Thursday. Here is where things stand right now:
- Neuroanatomy: It kills me to be so borderline. And before you go, "Hey, D's for degrees!" let me just be clear that the lowest passing grade in medical school (I'm assuming in all medical schools) is a 70%. So I'm failing. Failing! Blergh. But. I know for a fact that I failed the second Neuro exam due to being vaguely sick and in lots of pain from my back, etc., and it interfered with my sleep and my focus. This is good because now, when I am not sick and my back is not hurting, I can just focus hard and study and rock the final. And if I pass the final at all, I pass the class. Ah, med school, how quickly you have lowered my standards for success.
- Physiology: whatever. I'm doing fine in this class. Just have to keep on keepin' on.
- Microbiology: is the bane of my life. Seriously. I really don't like having to memorise literally hundreds of disparate facts. There are no processes, unlike Phys, for instance. And there are no real systems for organising the material. It's just - this bacterium/fungus/virus causes this disease. The patient will have these symptoms. These are the clinical tests we run to confirm what creature it is and these are the results we would expect. Next: this bacterium causes... Now multiply that times a few hundred, and you have the class. I think it's just hardheaded laziness, but I can't bring myself to sacrifice time spent on other classes in order to really do well in this class, and as a result I'm sort of dragging along the bottom of passing. I should care. Or something.
- Spanish: Ha.
- Clinical Epidemiology: is the one-credit class where they teach us how to evaluate the jargon in clinical studies and apply it. I haven't been to class since the midterm, and it won't matter. The material is useful, though - it's just that all of it is online, along with really complete practice exams. Not going to class + studying the notes + working through all of the practice tests = an A on the midterm, so I'm not worried.
- OMM: legitimately requires studying. Which I do. And you have to take lab seriously, unless you are too tired to log anything, and then you must pay for it later. Which I also do.
- Clinical Skilz I - Last week I did my first pelvic exam on a real, live person. She was a standardised (=trained) patient, and she was very patient with us (there were four students and one physician). It wasn't too bad, really. It's not like a vagina is a foreign concept to me. I can never tell what will gross people out and what won't, so I will spare you the details of the exam. Suffice it to say that I wasn't that nervous and my instructor complimented me when I was finished. Yay! Next week: male rectal and genital exams, also on a real, live, standardised patient. I have to say, I'm... also not nervous about that. I have yet to find a medical thing that phases me other than bone saws. Ew.
- I became a Stress Management leader! For the first two months of the autumn semester, a group of second years lead the first years in small groups, and teach them skills to help ease them into medical school life. It was invaluable to me last semester, and it will be good to pay that forward. I'm a pretty average med student, so hopefully my experiences will be useful to my group. I'm excited! I like taking care of people.
I'm guessing I will get two C's this semester, which means according to my deal with myself I can't shave my head this summer. But I will put in some obnoxious stripe of colour! I feel my youth slipping away in the face of this semi-professional life I'm living. I must have one last young hurrah this summer.
Monday, April 19
Sunday, April 11
On My Hair and Consumerism. Also My Hair.
Since I seem bent on wasting this entire day with productive procrastination, why not discuss a topic that is important but nowhere near pressing? Yes! Onward!
I'm not sure that this post applies to most of the people who read this blog. Why? It's about black hair.
I'm half black (SURPRISE!!), and I've always felt this most keenly when it comes to my hair. I've always felt mostly alone in my unending struggle against my hair. And if this sounds trivial to you, well, I envy you the ease of having your hair be something trivial. For me it's the one thing about me that can't be dealt with easily or in small steps, and it has plagued me my entire life. Some of my earliest memories are of my mother attempting to comb my hair as I screamed. Over the course of my short life I have tried, literally, everything to manage my hair - braids of all types, chemical straighteners, oils and styling products, dredlocks, even just going totally afro-natural and trying to own it. I have shaved my hair off completely and grown it back out again. And no matter what, I am always defeated by the sheer mass, the utter intractability of my hair. This last year I have resorted to the most boring of braids so that for once I just didn't have to think about it, but the truth is that I sort of hate braids. Getting them put in hurts and getting them taken out hurts, and both steps take hours, and nice braids are heavy but getting cornrows makes me look very much like my little brother. I have always dreamed of having a hair appointment that wasn't full of pain and ibuprofen. I am lucky in that my mother raised me to not feel like permanently relaxed hair was the ideal; I really like natural black hair because I think it is unique and can be gorgeous if you do it right. I just have a low success rate when it comes to translating that to my hair, which has the kinks of black hair and the coarse heaviness of Colombian hair.
(Note: For all that I am a big proponent of girls shaving their heads at least once during their lives for the experience, I would still rather have hair than have no hair. I accept that I was raised in a culture where short hair is more masculine and long hair is more feminine, and I'm not really trying to fight that particular battle. It's just that functionality is more important to me than looking nice. That is why I have shaved my head in the past and why I loved it: my hair drove me to it. And it may again. The freedom was amazing, and that was almost all I cared about.)
It's not just that I spend a lot of time and stress on my hair, it's that I spend SO MUCH MONEY on it as well. I am a very low-maintenance person, and even I spend easily $100 per appointment.
(Note #2: And let's be clear about these appointments. I spend money in order to make my hair manageable, not prettier. I am not talking about going to the salon to make otherwise perfectly fine hair a different colour, or curlier, or whatever. I am talking about making impossible hair usable.)
And now that I have semi-regular obligations that require me to look like a polished adult rather than a scruffy student, my choices have been getting more and more expensive. Some black women spend $100 every few weeks in order to maintain very clean, professional styles (or bloody ridiculous ones, but whatever). All that time and stress and money - where is it going? Someone is making an outrageous profit off of all of this.
This article is related to what I'm talking about. It talks about how messed up the black hair care industry is, how irritatingly fringe it is, and how black women constantly misspend their money. I like it because it is well-written and solidly thought out, and mirrors the same trends of responsible consumerism that have been appearing in more mainstream culture. I appreciate that.
...And we shall see if the $60 worth of products I bought from their site make it possible for me to actually stop getting my $%#& hair braided all the $%#& time. If I could just have curls! Curls that I could comb sometimes! Curls that respond to gravity! Curls that I could wash and maybe put up in a ponytail! CURLS ARE WHAT I WANT.
I'm not sure that this post applies to most of the people who read this blog. Why? It's about black hair.
I'm half black (SURPRISE!!), and I've always felt this most keenly when it comes to my hair. I've always felt mostly alone in my unending struggle against my hair. And if this sounds trivial to you, well, I envy you the ease of having your hair be something trivial. For me it's the one thing about me that can't be dealt with easily or in small steps, and it has plagued me my entire life. Some of my earliest memories are of my mother attempting to comb my hair as I screamed. Over the course of my short life I have tried, literally, everything to manage my hair - braids of all types, chemical straighteners, oils and styling products, dredlocks, even just going totally afro-natural and trying to own it. I have shaved my hair off completely and grown it back out again. And no matter what, I am always defeated by the sheer mass, the utter intractability of my hair. This last year I have resorted to the most boring of braids so that for once I just didn't have to think about it, but the truth is that I sort of hate braids. Getting them put in hurts and getting them taken out hurts, and both steps take hours, and nice braids are heavy but getting cornrows makes me look very much like my little brother. I have always dreamed of having a hair appointment that wasn't full of pain and ibuprofen. I am lucky in that my mother raised me to not feel like permanently relaxed hair was the ideal; I really like natural black hair because I think it is unique and can be gorgeous if you do it right. I just have a low success rate when it comes to translating that to my hair, which has the kinks of black hair and the coarse heaviness of Colombian hair.
(Note: For all that I am a big proponent of girls shaving their heads at least once during their lives for the experience, I would still rather have hair than have no hair. I accept that I was raised in a culture where short hair is more masculine and long hair is more feminine, and I'm not really trying to fight that particular battle. It's just that functionality is more important to me than looking nice. That is why I have shaved my head in the past and why I loved it: my hair drove me to it. And it may again. The freedom was amazing, and that was almost all I cared about.)
It's not just that I spend a lot of time and stress on my hair, it's that I spend SO MUCH MONEY on it as well. I am a very low-maintenance person, and even I spend easily $100 per appointment.
(Note #2: And let's be clear about these appointments. I spend money in order to make my hair manageable, not prettier. I am not talking about going to the salon to make otherwise perfectly fine hair a different colour, or curlier, or whatever. I am talking about making impossible hair usable.)
And now that I have semi-regular obligations that require me to look like a polished adult rather than a scruffy student, my choices have been getting more and more expensive. Some black women spend $100 every few weeks in order to maintain very clean, professional styles (or bloody ridiculous ones, but whatever). All that time and stress and money - where is it going? Someone is making an outrageous profit off of all of this.
This article is related to what I'm talking about. It talks about how messed up the black hair care industry is, how irritatingly fringe it is, and how black women constantly misspend their money. I like it because it is well-written and solidly thought out, and mirrors the same trends of responsible consumerism that have been appearing in more mainstream culture. I appreciate that.
...And we shall see if the $60 worth of products I bought from their site make it possible for me to actually stop getting my $%#& hair braided all the $%#& time. If I could just have curls! Curls that I could comb sometimes! Curls that respond to gravity! Curls that I could wash and maybe put up in a ponytail! CURLS ARE WHAT I WANT.
Friday, April 9
Catalytic
An hour and a half ago this post would have been nothing but, "I hate this school, I hate all the people in it, I am sick of this blah blah blah..."
But then I went to the weekly CMA meeting and everything changed.
Every so often we have a guest speaker instead of doing our usual Scripture reading/ discussion thing. Today the speaker was Rick Donlon, who helped found Christ Community Health Services, a group of clinics for low-income people in Memphis. And I have to tell you- well, let's not get ahead of ourselves.
First of all, he gave a very frank talk about how the med students/ doctors of his generation, individually and corporately, ultimately compromised their desire to change the world for God's glory in exchange for money, security, etc. And he discussed how real a danger that is for us right now, how we are in this giant monster that is trying to eat us and we end up sort of chewed up and spit out by the end of medical school. Before we are even doctors, we are tired and fed up and just want things to be easy for a bit. I'm sure you can guess that I felt his words in a deep part of my soul, because I've been feeling med school's teeth for a while now. I felt rebuked, and so I was totally absorbed because clearly, whatever he was about to say applied to me.
He moved on to what he did - how just a few years out of medical school he started this tiny clinic in the poorest part of Memphis with three other inexperienced young doctors - and it just caught me. I have always known that I wanted to serve the underserved, and since I came to Christ I knew that this desire would (well, duh) be tied to sharing God with others. But it's scary to think that my purpose will really only include serving, not on the side while I work at a nice hospital or a suburban clinic, but to just serve. Just... not make much money and not have great equipment most of the time and see people who desperately need the most basic medical education and service. Does that make sense, that I feel split even though my purpose is mostly clear to me? I know what I am going to do with my life in the purest sense, but I don't yet know how to get there. I don't know what my residency will be. I don't know what rotations to take at the end of med school. I don't know where I will be going (here? The States? Somewhere else in the world? Some combination? How does that even work?) or what, specifically, I will be doing. I just know that I was made for a life of service to the poor and oppressed.
There it is. Thrilling. As in exciting and terrifying. Also terrifying. Maybe a bit confusing. Did I mention terrifying? God has a lot of growing to do if he wants this little mouse in the faith to be able to really, really serve. But this is the only thought that galvanises me, that really gets me awake and energised about the future. School loses its spice after a week or so when it's this hard. Working in a normal clinic sounds ridiculously boring (Well. Not boring, per se. Just... well... boring. Wait, that's the same as boring, isn't it. Sorry, I did try). But working just in a hospital sounds like it might suck your soul out and leave it for the vultures. I don't know where I'm going with this, except that I must have meaning to my work or I can't do it. I can only get by on rationalisations for so long. Does that make sense? Obviously I haven't had the whole path revealed to me, which is really as it should be because all I need to focus on for now is the next four weeks of my life, not the next forty years. This is what I know:
0. God is good. I also wrote, "Good is God," and "God is God," and I suppose those are also true.
1. I have a Microbiology test on Thursday that I really need to pass. This weekend I must study for it, and also for Neuroanatomy, because...
2. I am currently failing Neuroanatomy by 0.2%; if I pass the final, I pass the class. Thus, I have to spend the next four weeks working to make sure that pass happens.
3. Matt will be gone for four weeks this summer. I have been invited (along with anyone else at school who wants to go) to go and live and work among the people who run CCHS for a period from 2-4 weeks. Thus, for part or all of the time Matt is away, I will go and begin to learn the tools for my future trade.
4. At some point in the distant future, I will finally be well-enough equipped to go and serve somewhere. And it will happen.
5. God is still good.
That's all I know about my life. More than enough to get me through the end of my little first-year experience, don't you think?
But then I went to the weekly CMA meeting and everything changed.
Every so often we have a guest speaker instead of doing our usual Scripture reading/ discussion thing. Today the speaker was Rick Donlon, who helped found Christ Community Health Services, a group of clinics for low-income people in Memphis. And I have to tell you- well, let's not get ahead of ourselves.
First of all, he gave a very frank talk about how the med students/ doctors of his generation, individually and corporately, ultimately compromised their desire to change the world for God's glory in exchange for money, security, etc. And he discussed how real a danger that is for us right now, how we are in this giant monster that is trying to eat us and we end up sort of chewed up and spit out by the end of medical school. Before we are even doctors, we are tired and fed up and just want things to be easy for a bit. I'm sure you can guess that I felt his words in a deep part of my soul, because I've been feeling med school's teeth for a while now. I felt rebuked, and so I was totally absorbed because clearly, whatever he was about to say applied to me.
He moved on to what he did - how just a few years out of medical school he started this tiny clinic in the poorest part of Memphis with three other inexperienced young doctors - and it just caught me. I have always known that I wanted to serve the underserved, and since I came to Christ I knew that this desire would (well, duh) be tied to sharing God with others. But it's scary to think that my purpose will really only include serving, not on the side while I work at a nice hospital or a suburban clinic, but to just serve. Just... not make much money and not have great equipment most of the time and see people who desperately need the most basic medical education and service. Does that make sense, that I feel split even though my purpose is mostly clear to me? I know what I am going to do with my life in the purest sense, but I don't yet know how to get there. I don't know what my residency will be. I don't know what rotations to take at the end of med school. I don't know where I will be going (here? The States? Somewhere else in the world? Some combination? How does that even work?) or what, specifically, I will be doing. I just know that I was made for a life of service to the poor and oppressed.
There it is. Thrilling. As in exciting and terrifying. Also terrifying. Maybe a bit confusing. Did I mention terrifying? God has a lot of growing to do if he wants this little mouse in the faith to be able to really, really serve. But this is the only thought that galvanises me, that really gets me awake and energised about the future. School loses its spice after a week or so when it's this hard. Working in a normal clinic sounds ridiculously boring (Well. Not boring, per se. Just... well... boring. Wait, that's the same as boring, isn't it. Sorry, I did try). But working just in a hospital sounds like it might suck your soul out and leave it for the vultures. I don't know where I'm going with this, except that I must have meaning to my work or I can't do it. I can only get by on rationalisations for so long. Does that make sense? Obviously I haven't had the whole path revealed to me, which is really as it should be because all I need to focus on for now is the next four weeks of my life, not the next forty years. This is what I know:
0. God is good. I also wrote, "Good is God," and "God is God," and I suppose those are also true.
1. I have a Microbiology test on Thursday that I really need to pass. This weekend I must study for it, and also for Neuroanatomy, because...
2. I am currently failing Neuroanatomy by 0.2%; if I pass the final, I pass the class. Thus, I have to spend the next four weeks working to make sure that pass happens.
3. Matt will be gone for four weeks this summer. I have been invited (along with anyone else at school who wants to go) to go and live and work among the people who run CCHS for a period from 2-4 weeks. Thus, for part or all of the time Matt is away, I will go and begin to learn the tools for my future trade.
4. At some point in the distant future, I will finally be well-enough equipped to go and serve somewhere. And it will happen.
5. God is still good.
That's all I know about my life. More than enough to get me through the end of my little first-year experience, don't you think?
Saturday, March 27
I need a break!
Still here. Took a test Friday; probably failed it. My grade can take the hit, but it is never fun to work so hard for such terrible results. I will find out how I actually did on Monday. Another (really hard) test is approaching on Tuesday that I already don't have enough time to prepare for (no, I'm not joking).
>.<
I am SO OVER IT. I was on the phone with my madre a couple of days ago and I told her I hate school. She really tried to convince me that I actually love school and that this is just a phase, but I really am so sick of all the constant pressure. Three days after spring break ended I was already thinking of summer. I'm just dying to be finished with this school year. I want to swim and go to the beach and read books. I want to sleep in and shadow physicians and try to remember why I'm doing this to myself and everyone who has to listen to me. And it's tough to look ahead to third year, when things will lighten up and get a lot more interesting, because I will likely be alone then and so I am actually trying not to think about it at all, which really just means I have nothing to look forward to in the long term. I AM GETTING DEPRESSED which is NOT HELPING and I would call myself a total slacker and a wimp except every single person in my class feels this way right now. No wonder few people make it through med school unmedicated.
I do not like this, Sam I Am.
Okay, okay. Positives. Uh... the weather is getting way nicer! And God is always so good, even in the difficult patches. His faithfulness astounds me all the time. Aaannd... I get to go on my first medical mission this summer which should be totally sweet. AND my best friend since the 9th grade (she has known me almost half my life!) is coming to visit on Tuesday; that's the best thing to happen all semester. There are good things.
[sigh]
Sorry this is such a sad panda entry. I'm sure things will pick up soon. I have good days, I promise.
...I think it's time for a Scripture dump. Subject: victory/ refuge.
Psalm 44:6-8
I do not trust in my bow, my sword does not bring me victory; but you give us victory over our enemies, you put our adversaries to shame. In God we make our boast all day long, and we will praise your name forever.
Matthew 11:28
"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest."
John 16:33
"In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world."
Romans 8:28
And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him who have been called according to his purpose.
Romans 8:35.37
Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? ....No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.
2 Thessalonians 3:3
But the Lord is faithful, and he will strengthen and protect you from the evil one.
James 1:12-15
Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him.
2 Timothy 4:18
The Lord will rescue me from every evil attack and will bring me safely to his heavenly kingdom. To him be the glory for ever and ever. Amen.
>.<
I am SO OVER IT. I was on the phone with my madre a couple of days ago and I told her I hate school. She really tried to convince me that I actually love school and that this is just a phase, but I really am so sick of all the constant pressure. Three days after spring break ended I was already thinking of summer. I'm just dying to be finished with this school year. I want to swim and go to the beach and read books. I want to sleep in and shadow physicians and try to remember why I'm doing this to myself and everyone who has to listen to me. And it's tough to look ahead to third year, when things will lighten up and get a lot more interesting, because I will likely be alone then and so I am actually trying not to think about it at all, which really just means I have nothing to look forward to in the long term. I AM GETTING DEPRESSED which is NOT HELPING and I would call myself a total slacker and a wimp except every single person in my class feels this way right now. No wonder few people make it through med school unmedicated.
I do not like this, Sam I Am.
Okay, okay. Positives. Uh... the weather is getting way nicer! And God is always so good, even in the difficult patches. His faithfulness astounds me all the time. Aaannd... I get to go on my first medical mission this summer which should be totally sweet. AND my best friend since the 9th grade (she has known me almost half my life!) is coming to visit on Tuesday; that's the best thing to happen all semester. There are good things.
[sigh]
Sorry this is such a sad panda entry. I'm sure things will pick up soon. I have good days, I promise.
...I think it's time for a Scripture dump. Subject: victory/ refuge.
Psalm 44:6-8
I do not trust in my bow, my sword does not bring me victory; but you give us victory over our enemies, you put our adversaries to shame. In God we make our boast all day long, and we will praise your name forever.
Matthew 11:28
"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest."
John 16:33
"In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world."
Romans 8:28
And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him who have been called according to his purpose.
Romans 8:35.37
Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? ....No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.
2 Thessalonians 3:3
But the Lord is faithful, and he will strengthen and protect you from the evil one.
James 1:12-15
Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him.
2 Timothy 4:18
The Lord will rescue me from every evil attack and will bring me safely to his heavenly kingdom. To him be the glory for ever and ever. Amen.
Thursday, March 18
Time Management
Spring Break thus far has been an enormous blessing. I have been able to sleep in every day and still get some work done. I need to buckle down for the next couple of days, though, if I really want to be well set up for next week and the week after. This is what a break has become: the chance to sleep while doing almost as much work as I was doing during school. Still, I really am thankful for even that.
I want to share something that changed the way I go through my days. It happened at a community group meeting (where a group of us whippersnappers get together once a week and dig our hands into some Scripture). A new couple were there that night, and the guy shared a revelation he'd had that when he thought of his time as his, his days were varying levels of terrible. He felt rushed, he was begrudging with his time, and he was never satisfied with what he managed to accomplish in a given day. But then he started reminding himself that all of the time he experienced was actually God's - given to him by God, but also directed and disposed of by God. And it changed everything for him. And it has changed everything for me as well.
It's a fundamentally different way of looking at time. It means that if you start out with a plan for the day and it gets derailed, you haven't necessarily failed, you just spent God's time in a different way than you anticipated but still in a fashion that is pleasing to Him, because you know He is in charge of directing where your time goes. This is the same philosophy that governs money and possessions, but somehow I had never applied it to time. It is freeing and lightens the yoke while keeping me disciplined. And it means I don't agonise over time management as much. If I wake up earlier than I'd intended to, it means I am meant to be awake for some purpose, and so up I get and start praying to figure out what I am meant to do. I start every day with a list that fills my waking hours, but if someone in need comes along, I trust that God put that person in my path for a reason, and that helping them is something that is pleasing to Him. The only thing I still struggle with is when to go to sleep. 'Cause, you know, I'd skip it if I could. Better grades and all that.
I want to share something that changed the way I go through my days. It happened at a community group meeting (where a group of us whippersnappers get together once a week and dig our hands into some Scripture). A new couple were there that night, and the guy shared a revelation he'd had that when he thought of his time as his, his days were varying levels of terrible. He felt rushed, he was begrudging with his time, and he was never satisfied with what he managed to accomplish in a given day. But then he started reminding himself that all of the time he experienced was actually God's - given to him by God, but also directed and disposed of by God. And it changed everything for him. And it has changed everything for me as well.
It's a fundamentally different way of looking at time. It means that if you start out with a plan for the day and it gets derailed, you haven't necessarily failed, you just spent God's time in a different way than you anticipated but still in a fashion that is pleasing to Him, because you know He is in charge of directing where your time goes. This is the same philosophy that governs money and possessions, but somehow I had never applied it to time. It is freeing and lightens the yoke while keeping me disciplined. And it means I don't agonise over time management as much. If I wake up earlier than I'd intended to, it means I am meant to be awake for some purpose, and so up I get and start praying to figure out what I am meant to do. I start every day with a list that fills my waking hours, but if someone in need comes along, I trust that God put that person in my path for a reason, and that helping them is something that is pleasing to Him. The only thing I still struggle with is when to go to sleep. 'Cause, you know, I'd skip it if I could. Better grades and all that.
Tuesday, March 16
Job Hazards of the Sheeple
Well. It's been a bit longer than I expected it would be. And I have several things to share, so I guess this is where I introduce my love of bulleted lists. Onward!
- I passed all 5 of those tests. Some more passingly than others. More on that later. Just a tip, though: if you are ever contemplating going three weeks with an average of 4-5 hours of sleep a night... don't.
- Friday afternoon marked the beginning of Spring Break! Matt was gone on a short trip, so I spent the entire weekend sleeping and/ or playing Final Fantasy XIII. One of my classmates did not know what that was when I mentioned it last week, which made me deeply sad for them. They will never understand; video games are either something that you are raised on or something you miss out on, in part or in whole, forever.
- My computer is borked. The place I took it to initially just called and said it is probably a hard drive failure. Allow me a moment to rant about this computer of mine. When I started school in August, I was told that I really should have this one extra-special Toshiba touch-screen laptop that costs $2000. I was told it was an important addition to the learning experience, so important in fact that they had made a deal with this one company to give us the computer and wait for payment until our student loans had come in. So I bit.
Cut to four months later. I no longer take notes on my computer because the touch-screen note-taking software is too unreliable and I can't afford to keep losing what I write. The screen keeps getting a wet-looking spot in the middle from being in my backpack; the casing isn't strong enough to keep the computer from getting compressed, and so the screen gets smushed. And one day I turn my computer on like normal - and it freezes. And continues to freeze no matter how many times I turn it on and off, no matter how virus-free it is. And now I apparently need a new hard drive on a computer that is less than a year old. The screen doesn't always track well, the mousepad will sometimes stop working for no reason, and the stupid thing has been running slower and slower despite my spotless registry and fully (and regularly) defragged memory. And before you point out that clearly a computer with this many issues is just a defective one, let me say that I can list multiple people in my class who are having the same or even more issues.
Even better, the place we bought our computers from is actually in Dallas, and they will make you wait weeks on your computer while they fix it. I'm assuming they are just very busy, but that doesn't change the fact that when I need a computer, I won't have one if I use my warranty. Luckily a friend of mine owns a computer company and is willing to help me out. You always pay in money or time, right?
Honestly, though? I wish I could just return the thing. It kills me that I could have spent $1500 on an excellent normal laptop instead of $2100 on a lower-tier tablet. This is the price you pay when you allow yourself to be one of the sheeple.
Sigh.
- I passed all 5 of those tests. Some more passingly than others. More on that later. Just a tip, though: if you are ever contemplating going three weeks with an average of 4-5 hours of sleep a night... don't.
- Friday afternoon marked the beginning of Spring Break! Matt was gone on a short trip, so I spent the entire weekend sleeping and/ or playing Final Fantasy XIII. One of my classmates did not know what that was when I mentioned it last week, which made me deeply sad for them. They will never understand; video games are either something that you are raised on or something you miss out on, in part or in whole, forever.
- My computer is borked. The place I took it to initially just called and said it is probably a hard drive failure. Allow me a moment to rant about this computer of mine. When I started school in August, I was told that I really should have this one extra-special Toshiba touch-screen laptop that costs $2000. I was told it was an important addition to the learning experience, so important in fact that they had made a deal with this one company to give us the computer and wait for payment until our student loans had come in. So I bit.
Cut to four months later. I no longer take notes on my computer because the touch-screen note-taking software is too unreliable and I can't afford to keep losing what I write. The screen keeps getting a wet-looking spot in the middle from being in my backpack; the casing isn't strong enough to keep the computer from getting compressed, and so the screen gets smushed. And one day I turn my computer on like normal - and it freezes. And continues to freeze no matter how many times I turn it on and off, no matter how virus-free it is. And now I apparently need a new hard drive on a computer that is less than a year old. The screen doesn't always track well, the mousepad will sometimes stop working for no reason, and the stupid thing has been running slower and slower despite my spotless registry and fully (and regularly) defragged memory. And before you point out that clearly a computer with this many issues is just a defective one, let me say that I can list multiple people in my class who are having the same or even more issues.
Even better, the place we bought our computers from is actually in Dallas, and they will make you wait weeks on your computer while they fix it. I'm assuming they are just very busy, but that doesn't change the fact that when I need a computer, I won't have one if I use my warranty. Luckily a friend of mine owns a computer company and is willing to help me out. You always pay in money or time, right?
Honestly, though? I wish I could just return the thing. It kills me that I could have spent $1500 on an excellent normal laptop instead of $2100 on a lower-tier tablet. This is the price you pay when you allow yourself to be one of the sheeple.
Sheeple
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Sheeple (a portmanteau of "sheep" and "people") is a term of disparagement, in which people are likened to sheep. It is often used to denote persons who voluntarily acquiesce to a perceived authority, or suggestion without sufficient research to understand fully the scope of the ramifications involved in that decision, and thus undermine their own human individuality or in other cases give up certain rights. The implication of sheeple is that as a collective, people believe whatever they are told, especially if told so by a perceived authority figure believed to be trustworthy, without processing it or doing adequate research to be sure that it is an accurate representation of the real world around them.Sigh.
Thursday, March 4
I'm still around.
Hey. I'm still alive. Today I took test 3 of 5 for this two-and-a-half week period. Two left. Then Spring Break.
I can totally do this.
I can totally do this.
Thursday, February 25
I just want to say
- that I can't believe I thought I was a serious student in undergraduate. It's laughable now. Studying for big tests two nights before? Only carrying one notebook at a time in a cute little blue handbag? Sleeping in a regular pattern? Taking multiple days off at a time? What a silly thing I was. So young, so young.
Tuesday, February 23
Explanation or excuse? Only God knows.
Today I am taking a mental health day.
Let me begin with yesterday. After morning classes, I went home for lunch. The plan was to have a quick lunch with Matt and then do some work before heading to my ( at times insanely useless) Clinical Skilz lab, where we would be "learning" about dermatology by staring at each other's arms. On my way into my apartment, I tripped up a few stairs and totally wiped out. Everything went flying. I hurt my knee surprisingly badly considering I just tripped, and ruined a pair of jeans. And that was it. I limped upstairs, cleaned my knee, and went to bed instead of CS. I just couldn't take it. I did do some work later in the evening but the thought of going to class was somehow too much.
This morning I woke up on time for my classes; I then lay in bed for ten minutes alternately yelling at myself to get up and feeling totally overwhelmed by even the thought of putting bandages on my leg and figuring out what clothes to wear, let alone having to actually attend class. All of my dreams had involved me either screaming or crying. I made it into the bathroom where I stared at myself for a few minutes... and then I returned to bed, curled into a little ball, and retreated guiltily back into sleep. When I woke up a couple of hours ago, I realised I'd missed all of my morning classes but still technically had neuroanatomy lab and Spanish this afternoon and evening, respectively. Visualising actually being there literally sent me into fits of tears. Clearly I am feeling a bit off balance, as hyperventilation and a strong desire to flee are usually the strongest reactions I have to gunners and/ or neuro lab.
And so your heroine finds herself at home, still in her pajamas, potentially without plans to do any work today at all. There are two ways to think about this.
One (The Parent's Explanation): apparently I am exhausted in some measure, and that part of me decided it was time to take a break. It is healthy and good that I am listening to it, and although I may have to play catch-up a bit, it will have been worth it for the recharge that I get. And let's be honest, medical school consists solely of playing catch-up anyway, so it's not like my life will be drastically different in that regard. I'll just be less likely to have a public breakdown.
Two (The Gunner's Explanation): part of med school is being exhausted in every way and learning to push through it. It is irresponsible and quite frankly weak of me to have to take so much time off, especially after I didn't work that hard over the weekend. Maybe I just don't want to work, and so I am taking any excuse available to shirk. Maybe I just can't hack it.
Which is more valid? [shrug] I'm not sure, but the first one certainly is more comfortable, isn't it? No one wants to think of oneself as a slacker, not in an arena like this. And it hurts to think of oneself as inadequate.
But I was thinking further about this this morning, talking to my mum and Matt, and I realised: I have always known I was only above average. Let me explain. I am more intelligent than many people; this is just a gift that God gave me, like he gave others artistic or physical ability. But I am definitely not a genius. I fall in the 'gifted' category, which means among the entire population I am of above average intelligence, but among smart people I am basically average.
This is finally playing out in school; I have reached a level where only people roughly as intelligent as I am are around me, and I am now almost exactly in the middle of the pack. Hard work counts for a lot when you are in the middle of the pack (vs. being absolutely brilliant, in which case hard work counts for much less - don't disagree with me, I have also seen this play out in my school. Outliers are outliers for a reason), and I am only willing to sacrifice so much.
So. I am smart but not smart enough to be the best. I am willing to work but possibly not hard enough to be the best. Is this not inadequacy?
Thus the second argument is also true - in a sense. If high levels of accomplishment and being tough were really what I am aiming for, then I would have dragged my sad self to school today because not doing so would be slacking. But more and more I am realising the depth to which those aren't my goals. Enjoying life as much as possible without totally sacrificing my career - you know, balance - that is my true goal. My whole life I have surrounded myself with gunners because they push me, and my whole life I have refused (most of the time) to participate in the madness of being hardcore fully and felt guilty about it. Now I am in a place that requires 100% daily and I am finally giving it... most of the time. Maybe I should stop being ashamed of those exceptions. Maybe.
Let me begin with yesterday. After morning classes, I went home for lunch. The plan was to have a quick lunch with Matt and then do some work before heading to my ( at times insanely useless) Clinical Skilz lab, where we would be "learning" about dermatology by staring at each other's arms. On my way into my apartment, I tripped up a few stairs and totally wiped out. Everything went flying. I hurt my knee surprisingly badly considering I just tripped, and ruined a pair of jeans. And that was it. I limped upstairs, cleaned my knee, and went to bed instead of CS. I just couldn't take it. I did do some work later in the evening but the thought of going to class was somehow too much.
This morning I woke up on time for my classes; I then lay in bed for ten minutes alternately yelling at myself to get up and feeling totally overwhelmed by even the thought of putting bandages on my leg and figuring out what clothes to wear, let alone having to actually attend class. All of my dreams had involved me either screaming or crying. I made it into the bathroom where I stared at myself for a few minutes... and then I returned to bed, curled into a little ball, and retreated guiltily back into sleep. When I woke up a couple of hours ago, I realised I'd missed all of my morning classes but still technically had neuroanatomy lab and Spanish this afternoon and evening, respectively. Visualising actually being there literally sent me into fits of tears. Clearly I am feeling a bit off balance, as hyperventilation and a strong desire to flee are usually the strongest reactions I have to gunners and/ or neuro lab.
And so your heroine finds herself at home, still in her pajamas, potentially without plans to do any work today at all. There are two ways to think about this.
One (The Parent's Explanation): apparently I am exhausted in some measure, and that part of me decided it was time to take a break. It is healthy and good that I am listening to it, and although I may have to play catch-up a bit, it will have been worth it for the recharge that I get. And let's be honest, medical school consists solely of playing catch-up anyway, so it's not like my life will be drastically different in that regard. I'll just be less likely to have a public breakdown.
Two (The Gunner's Explanation): part of med school is being exhausted in every way and learning to push through it. It is irresponsible and quite frankly weak of me to have to take so much time off, especially after I didn't work that hard over the weekend. Maybe I just don't want to work, and so I am taking any excuse available to shirk. Maybe I just can't hack it.
Which is more valid? [shrug] I'm not sure, but the first one certainly is more comfortable, isn't it? No one wants to think of oneself as a slacker, not in an arena like this. And it hurts to think of oneself as inadequate.
But I was thinking further about this this morning, talking to my mum and Matt, and I realised: I have always known I was only above average. Let me explain. I am more intelligent than many people; this is just a gift that God gave me, like he gave others artistic or physical ability. But I am definitely not a genius. I fall in the 'gifted' category, which means among the entire population I am of above average intelligence, but among smart people I am basically average.
This is finally playing out in school; I have reached a level where only people roughly as intelligent as I am are around me, and I am now almost exactly in the middle of the pack. Hard work counts for a lot when you are in the middle of the pack (vs. being absolutely brilliant, in which case hard work counts for much less - don't disagree with me, I have also seen this play out in my school. Outliers are outliers for a reason), and I am only willing to sacrifice so much.
So. I am smart but not smart enough to be the best. I am willing to work but possibly not hard enough to be the best. Is this not inadequacy?
Thus the second argument is also true - in a sense. If high levels of accomplishment and being tough were really what I am aiming for, then I would have dragged my sad self to school today because not doing so would be slacking. But more and more I am realising the depth to which those aren't my goals. Enjoying life as much as possible without totally sacrificing my career - you know, balance - that is my true goal. My whole life I have surrounded myself with gunners because they push me, and my whole life I have refused (most of the time) to participate in the madness of being hardcore fully and felt guilty about it. Now I am in a place that requires 100% daily and I am finally giving it... most of the time. Maybe I should stop being ashamed of those exceptions. Maybe.
Friday, February 19
I'm not sure if that was worth it.
Well, I survived the neuro exam. Even for medical school, the study period for that test was stressful and bizarre. I honestly don't think I have studied that hard for any test ever save the MCAT - you know, the test that got me in this place. Let me take a moment and clarify the term "studying hard." I mean that every single day for the last two weeks, I have spent at least six hours studying for that class. This is aside from any day-to-day work I have to do. On Saturday I spent almost nine hours on this stuff, and the only reason I didn't spend that much time on Sunday is because I had a Physiology exam Monday that I had to get ready for. So, two thoughts:
1. If I had studied that hard for even half of my exams last semester, I would have gotten straight A's. Guaranteed.
2. If I had studied that hard for my exams last semester, Matt and I might be separated right now. I have barely seen him for two weeks and it has been miserable. Last semester I frequently said that as someone who was married, I came prepackaged with certain priorities that sit above medical school. This should also be true for anyone who comes in with kids. Having those priorities out of order this week was terrible and I am glad it is over (for a while).
I am trying not to obsessively check online for my grade; I have only failedtwice three times. But the more I think about it, the more I realise that doing well on that test will only partially justify all the time and effort I sank into preparing for it. In my other classes I don't think I could justify that level of sacrifice at all. And there it is. I am not willing to give up enough to earn straight A's, full stop. And so it won't happen.
This closes doors. For example, I already know that this will make it almost impossible for me to ever get into surgery, which is okay. I do not want to do surgery. Surgeons can't lead normal lives and everyone in the medical field knows it. Why would you even want that?
Tonight is date night for Matt and me. I'm excited to get back to what's actually important.
1. If I had studied that hard for even half of my exams last semester, I would have gotten straight A's. Guaranteed.
2. If I had studied that hard for my exams last semester, Matt and I might be separated right now. I have barely seen him for two weeks and it has been miserable. Last semester I frequently said that as someone who was married, I came prepackaged with certain priorities that sit above medical school. This should also be true for anyone who comes in with kids. Having those priorities out of order this week was terrible and I am glad it is over (for a while).
I am trying not to obsessively check online for my grade; I have only failed
This closes doors. For example, I already know that this will make it almost impossible for me to ever get into surgery, which is okay. I do not want to do surgery. Surgeons can't lead normal lives and everyone in the medical field knows it. Why would you even want that?
Tonight is date night for Matt and me. I'm excited to get back to what's actually important.
Monday, February 15
Professionalism is a joke.
This semester I have the goal of running a 5K in April. This seemed totally doable in January. But now I am le tired. I can run a mile and a half right now, though, so we will see.
Neuroanatomy exam I on Thursday. I am terrified. I have been working myself into the ground and I feel like it won't be enough. Having spent easily 30 hours on that class in the last four days, I am taking a bit of a break tonight. And paying for it tomorrow by getting up [shudder] really early. But I can't do it tonight. I can't. Maybe tomorrow I will be able to.
Today I took a Phys exam, number II for the semester. Before the first test I was warned by multiple second-years not to really study the material, but instead to memorise the old exams. The good student in me rejected this and instead I studied the material really hard. I barely passed that test. For this one, I barely studied by comparison; I spent roughly four hours memorising old exams and maybe two hours going over the actual material. That has to be a fourth of the time I sank into preparing for the first test.
I scored over a full letter grade higher.
Beating the system is not fulfilling. Call it idealistic of me, but I would much rather have to study the material and then take a test that is somewhat challenging, and then have a grade that directly correlates with the quality of my studying. Most of my exams are not like this, thank goodness. But even having one like this bothers me a lot, because it's wrong. Just wrong.
Also. Class tends to be varying levels of a waste of time, ranging from 'sort of' all the way out to 'My time would be better spent in the wrong line at the DMV.' The issue is that I don't have time to waste not learning unless I am actively taking a break from learning. (Side note: everything that is not studying is a break from studying. Food. Commute. Using the toilet. Conversation. Everything. Sleep is not on this list, as I frequently wake myself up studying - listing things, going through procedures, etc. - and all of my dreams are related to school). So to go to class expecting it to be four hours of learning and to walk out feeling like you'd just been told you were, in fact, in the wrong line at the DMV is beyond frustrating.
So don't go, you say. Ah. But.
Apparently I attend a 'professional' institution, by which I mean people are highly unprofessional all the time, unless someone gets annoyed about something, at which point they reach into his/her ill-fitted scrubs and throwa good old-fashioned hissy fit someone a professional foul card. So when people stop coming to class, other people get annoyed and start throwing cards and insults around, spreading small lacerations and all kinds of irritation. Come to class! they say. It's your professional responsibility! And if you really think it's stupid then just come and study while you are in class.
This does indeed leave one with a moral dilemma. One must study, which precludes paying attention in class; but one must apparently attend class, because it is one's professional responsibility. But is it professional to attend class and blatantly do something unrelated to the lecture? Someone reading a textbook (or IM chatting, or playing Mario on the computer) looks very different than someone listening. Which is more respectful, uninterestedly filling a seat or not filling one at all? The card-throwers are resoundingly silent when I pose this question, which I have done repeatedly.
Neuroanatomy exam I on Thursday. I am terrified. I have been working myself into the ground and I feel like it won't be enough. Having spent easily 30 hours on that class in the last four days, I am taking a bit of a break tonight. And paying for it tomorrow by getting up [shudder] really early. But I can't do it tonight. I can't. Maybe tomorrow I will be able to.
Today I took a Phys exam, number II for the semester. Before the first test I was warned by multiple second-years not to really study the material, but instead to memorise the old exams. The good student in me rejected this and instead I studied the material really hard. I barely passed that test. For this one, I barely studied by comparison; I spent roughly four hours memorising old exams and maybe two hours going over the actual material. That has to be a fourth of the time I sank into preparing for the first test.
I scored over a full letter grade higher.
Beating the system is not fulfilling. Call it idealistic of me, but I would much rather have to study the material and then take a test that is somewhat challenging, and then have a grade that directly correlates with the quality of my studying. Most of my exams are not like this, thank goodness. But even having one like this bothers me a lot, because it's wrong. Just wrong.
Also. Class tends to be varying levels of a waste of time, ranging from 'sort of' all the way out to 'My time would be better spent in the wrong line at the DMV.' The issue is that I don't have time to waste not learning unless I am actively taking a break from learning. (Side note: everything that is not studying is a break from studying. Food. Commute. Using the toilet. Conversation. Everything. Sleep is not on this list, as I frequently wake myself up studying - listing things, going through procedures, etc. - and all of my dreams are related to school). So to go to class expecting it to be four hours of learning and to walk out feeling like you'd just been told you were, in fact, in the wrong line at the DMV is beyond frustrating.
So don't go, you say. Ah. But.
Apparently I attend a 'professional' institution, by which I mean people are highly unprofessional all the time, unless someone gets annoyed about something, at which point they reach into his/her ill-fitted scrubs and throw
This does indeed leave one with a moral dilemma. One must study, which precludes paying attention in class; but one must apparently attend class, because it is one's professional responsibility. But is it professional to attend class and blatantly do something unrelated to the lecture? Someone reading a textbook (or IM chatting, or playing Mario on the computer) looks very different than someone listening. Which is more respectful, uninterestedly filling a seat or not filling one at all? The card-throwers are resoundingly silent when I pose this question, which I have done repeatedly.
Hello
Hello! This blog is, at the time of writing, planned to be mostly a way to keep in touch with far-flung family and friends. Those who know me know that I am mostly terrible at: phone calls, email, text messages, listening to voicemail, and thank-you notes, so hopefully I can keep up with this better.
Honestly, this is my last chance to convince my nearest and dearest that I do in fact attend medical school and am not just putting on scrubs every day and heading to the nearest bar.
Honestly, this is my last chance to convince my nearest and dearest that I do in fact attend medical school and am not just putting on scrubs every day and heading to the nearest bar.
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