Karen Starts Med-School

Medical school has begun for Karen. We are all anxious to hear the horror stories that come with becoming a doctor. Karen provided us with a description of her first day...so far, so good:

9am I woke up

9:07isham I went back to sleep

9:45isham I got up for realsies

9:45isham-11:30isham I waited for the gas guy to come turn on my stove. This waiting period included such activities as checking my email, showering, playing spider solitaire (level: difficult), accidently disabling my itunes, trying to clear enough space on my computer to re-install itunes, giving up and listening to David Bowie's "Dance Magic Dance" on my cell phone several times, and re-checking my email.

12ishpm I walked to campus and picked up my white coat. Then I sat with a couple other M1s (that's technical jargon for first year medical student) and we complimented each other on how good we looked in our white coats.

1pm I took a seat in McCombs auditorium for my first med school lecture ever. It was Anatomy, it lasted 2 hours, and it was way to fast and way to dense for me to retain most of it. Medical factoid for the day, the space that houses your spinal cord is called your vertebral column, but in an individual vertebrae, the space is called the vertebral foramen.

3pm We reported to the lab for our first stab (get it?) at dissection. There are 5 of us per cadaver; my group consists of 5 girls (including the cadaver, I call her Gladys) and 1 boy. We quickly established ourselves as the go-to group, excelling in speed, accuracy, and not fainting. The faculty member assigned to our row was Dr. Sussman, anatomy teacher turned chef turned anatomy teacher. He told us this about isolating and cleaning the muscle layer: "Just like on a steak, you wanna leave a little bit of fat. For flavor."

5:15ishpm We went downstairs to check out the club fair, where we quickly realized that the smell of formaldehyde is not left at the door, and is as apparent in a hallway full of M1s as it would be in a Compton city morgue the night after a Bloods v. Crypts touch football game.

5:20ishpm I remembered that I have a rather serious case of agoraphobia, and quickly signed up for 3 clubs before running outside to curl up in a fetal position in the parking lot.

5:30pm-6:30pm I showered. Shampoo rinse, repeat. Scrub. Loofah. Scalding hot water. After-school-special-can't-get-clean-shower. Then, convinced I still smelled formaldehyde, I washed my hands 17 times.

6:30pm I made macaroni and cheese.

7:00pm I had a stomach ache from eating too much macaroni and cheese, so I laid down for a bit.

7:30ishpm-9ishpm I ordered some textbooks on-line, checked my email, straightened my hair, listed to "Dance Magic Dance" a couple times, memorized over 3 different muscles of the superficial back, and checked my email.

9ishpm I got a ride to the M2 sponsored social event (ie: bar) with my friend Canada Chris. His mom and sister dropped us off. They were lovely.

9:30ishpm-2isham I socialized with my classmates, discussing the particulars of our recent superficial back dissection, as well as the state of health care in general. I also had an opportunity to meet several 2nd, 3rd, and 4th years who were able to impart valuable advice and reassurance. Upon asking a 2nd year what his overall impression of 1st year had been, he responded, "Best two years of my life." The bar was running a generous special, providing any variety of vodka mixed drink for only $1. Being a student and living on a tight budget, I felt it would be financially prudent to take advantage of this rare deal. The DJ, quite possible my soulmate, played a rousing variety of 80s pop and 90s hip-hop, and by the end of the evening was only too happy to let me join him in the DJ both and aid him in the selection of the musical program for the rest of the evening. The night ended with a very impressive performance of full grown men on tricycles riding the length of the bar with no net.

2isham-?? As Canada Chris and I exited the bar, the door attendant was removing several bundles of balloons from the railing, which he was more than glad to give to us at no cost. Canada and I began our walk home. We had made it only a block or so before he decided the balloons were an unnecessary addition to our party and slapped me until I was forced to let go of them. We then admired them as they drifted up into the night sky, quietly humming the melody to 99 Luft Balloons. As we continued our journey home, Canada thought it best that we try to hail a cab, as it was late and we were at least an hour's walk from home. He attempted in vain to find us a taxi, waving madly at every car that passed, lest it be a cab and the driver had simply forgotten to affix the lit taxi sign to the roof. We continued on, I was forced to remove my jelly slippers as they were beginning to chafe my footsies, and Canada, ever the gentleman, offered to piggy-back me the way home. I gently suggested that his superior trapezius, along with his girly arms, wouldn't be strong enough to support me. He pushed me into a shrubbery. Canada spotted a cab in the distance and began hailing with great enthusiasm, and gladly the driver saw him and pulled up the curb. Much to Canada's surpise, and a bit to my chagrin, the car was not a cab, but in fact, a police cruiser. The officer politely asked us how we were getting on and if we needed any sort of legal assistance. We just as politely declined. The officer pulled away, disappointing us by not offering us a ride home. We then saw a McDonalds and thought a bite might revive us for the rest of the trip home. Sadly, it was closed. A Taco Bell appeared in the distance, but alas, that was closed as well. Happily, we spotted a 7eleven, well known for their 24 hour service and fine cuisine. We jogged accross the road, and just then, a cab came up behind us! I waved the driver down, and Canada, once again the perfect gentleman, attempted to open the car door for me. I think, though, that the car door handles in Toronto must be positioned quite differently from ours, as he had quite a bit of trouble getting it open. The driver was an older white gentleman, with a colorful and plentiful vocabulary which he used to describe the neighborhood and its residents. After driving only a few blocks, Canada and I chuckled to ourselves as we realized that we had only a short way to go before we would have walked quite easily into our own neighborhood. I was dropped off first, as a lady should be, and because I carried no currency, and danced into my apartment, happy to be home. I dutifully set my alarm to wake me early the next morning for class, and drifted off to sleep, feeling quite satisfied by the productive and educational day I had just ended.

So that's it. A typical day in the life of a med student.

Karen in her white coat just before her white coat ceremony at East Virginia Medical School