Thursday, October 7, 2010
Sunday, September 9, 2007
Gross Stuff
I wish I had a better way to put that, but that's about the only way I can describe my first venture into the real medical community. As part of our Doctoring class, once a month we go to a preceptor who is a family practice doc and get to practice our skills (uh huh) on real unsuspecting patients.
Anyways, my preceptor is actually a really cool - he is of the "throw them in the fire" camp, and after shadowing him for one patient just started handing me charts and having me taking patient histories to present back to him. Most of it was relatively benign and I learned a lot the entire day, but it wasn't all like that or else I'd have nothing entertaining to say. About halfway through my day there, the doc hands me a chart that says "{unreadable words} inflammation" and, with an evil smile, says "Be sure to report back to me a description of what the nodule looks like." I'm assuming that somewhere in medical school they teach you how to read these people's handwriting, and that's how he was able to decipher some message about there being a nodule.
I saunter over to the patient's room and open the door, politely asking the person's permission to let me take a history of him (some people are averse to dealing with med students and don't want to have anything to do with them- what they don't realize is that 10 years from now I might actually be their doctor so it's better I learn now before I accidentally cause them severe pain later in a more serious case). He is a middle-aged guy (52 y.o.)who seems pretty affable. I talk to him about his problems and he says something about a fever and that he has pain in his...penis! And guess where that inflammation is? His penis! And guess what I got to look at? (after asking his permission - "Can I please look at your penis?" ...given that I'm heterosexual, I never thought I'd have to say that in my lifetime, but hey go nuts) His penis! And guess what had a disturbingly large red bulge growing on the side of his penis? His penis! And guess who worked out a bit to hard on the stationary bike, leading to severe chaffing? His penis! (OK not really, but you know what I mean). Note to self: Never work out ever again.
Yay medical school!
Anyways, my preceptor is actually a really cool - he is of the "throw them in the fire" camp, and after shadowing him for one patient just started handing me charts and having me taking patient histories to present back to him. Most of it was relatively benign and I learned a lot the entire day, but it wasn't all like that or else I'd have nothing entertaining to say. About halfway through my day there, the doc hands me a chart that says "{unreadable words} inflammation" and, with an evil smile, says "Be sure to report back to me a description of what the nodule looks like." I'm assuming that somewhere in medical school they teach you how to read these people's handwriting, and that's how he was able to decipher some message about there being a nodule.
I saunter over to the patient's room and open the door, politely asking the person's permission to let me take a history of him (some people are averse to dealing with med students and don't want to have anything to do with them- what they don't realize is that 10 years from now I might actually be their doctor so it's better I learn now before I accidentally cause them severe pain later in a more serious case). He is a middle-aged guy (52 y.o.)who seems pretty affable. I talk to him about his problems and he says something about a fever and that he has pain in his...penis! And guess where that inflammation is? His penis! And guess what I got to look at? (after asking his permission - "Can I please look at your penis?" ...given that I'm heterosexual, I never thought I'd have to say that in my lifetime, but hey go nuts) His penis! And guess what had a disturbingly large red bulge growing on the side of his penis? His penis! And guess who worked out a bit to hard on the stationary bike, leading to severe chaffing? His penis! (OK not really, but you know what I mean). Note to self: Never work out ever again.
Yay medical school!
Friday, August 31, 2007
Hypertalkers
So now I've been through about two years of medical school, and I am definitely starting to feel more familiar with my classmates, the curriculum, and the school in general. In fact, I think I have gotten a feel for the class so much that I'd like to use this entry to discuss those precious few classmates that everyone knows. You have them in your school, whether it's medical school, undergrad, law school, high school, junior high - hell, I bet this personality type emerges even in preschool. You know them, and yet you may not even know their names. But you hear their voices every day in class. Yes, you know who I'm talking about. It's those precious, select few, who cannot, will not, and dare not go through one class period without asking at least 3 questions. These questions can be relevant and clear, but more likely they are utterly pointless, confusing, off-topic, and likely the beginning of a string of followup questions. To which a logical person might ponder, why ask such questions? Why take up everone's time (see calculations below)? Why not ask off-topic questions in a more appropriate setting, like office hours?
As with just about everything else in medical school, I don't know the answer to these questions. I have my suspicions, but these are more med-specific and would likely not apply to other areas of study. What one must consider is this: all medical students were premeds at some point. And, generally, premeds just suck. There are many types, but the most noticeable ones are those that always sit in the front and ask questions because they are kissing the professors ass with the hope of getting the professor to write a recommendation for him/herdown the line. Unfortunately, these premeds, upon fooling medical school admissions interviewers across the country into thinking they are genuine and normal and not idiotic competitive fools, evolved into medical students but forgot that they no longer have to gently press their overactive lips onto the waste disposal mechanisms of their professors for approval.
What are the consequences of these so-called (by me) hypertalkers? All this leads to profs going way overtime to finish lectures that were planned for ~50min, angry students who don't get a break between lectures and now can only focus on their overflowing bladders, and confused audiences who can't get any continuity in the lecture because it gets interrupted every four minutes, so they don't know what the hell is going on after having to tune out for 5+minutes while this moron asked a completely useless question and the prof struggled to answer it without making the person feel bad.
To these hypertalkers I have this to say:1) SHUT UP
2) I can't speak for every medschool, but mine is Pass/Fail (and most are some variation on this trend). Simply put, everyone passes, and residency admissions directors don't give a shit what you did the first two years anyways...they only look at your step 1 board scores and care more about what you do during your rotations.
3) A couple of friends in my class did a little experiment, observing our most notorious hypertalker for one two hour lecture block, counting the amount of times she asked questions and the length of time it took to answer/disregard each question. They then used that info to calculate (yea well we're all dorky at this point so it's no big deal) how many lecture hours of our lives they are taking up in a given year, and that number came up to 27 lecture hours per year (at first that seems like not a big deal, but think about it...those are LECTURE hours, as in, amount of time you spend sitting on your ass in an uncomfortable chair struggling to stay awake and pay attention). 27 hours of me missing out on old people telling me stuff I need to know because these people don't know how to shuttup. Which leads me to point #4...
4) SHUT UP
(To undergrads who pull this shit, I would suggest reviewing steps 1 and 4 of the above, as well as the following piece of advice: Professors are not dumb. In fact, they have to be pretty damn smart to get those jobs in the first place. Don't think they can't see through your bullshit, because they can and will note such behavior on the recommendations you so desperately seek.)
So this leaves us with the greatest of all questions...what to do with these people? Well there doesn't seem to be any obvious way to have them kicked out, so that's not an option. Things that help include professors who won't put up with their crap. My personal favorite is this one prof who told this hypertalker in front of the entire class, "Isn't there some sort of limit on the amount of questions you can ask?" Which leads too...
THE GRAND SOLUTION (shout out to a few members of class of 2010 for providing most, if not all, of the ideas below...names witheld because i don't remember who said what)This is how it's going to be: At the beginning of each semester/quarter/block/whatever, each student is given a certain amount of question tickets. The total number equates to the amount of questions this person is allowed to ask per semester/quarter/block/whatever. Every time he/she asks a question, the student must give a ticket to the professor. If they use them up in the first week, tough shit. If they lose them, tough shit. If they forge them to be able to ask more questions, that's just sad (and I'll individually number and track them so I'll know which are frauds). Students who don't normally ask questions can set up a black market and sell them to the highest bidder, making them feel at least financially compensated for all of the time that these people are taking from their lives. It's a beautiful system...This entry is dedicated to all the HumBio hypertalkers who made it such a great premed core for Temple class of 2006.
As with just about everything else in medical school, I don't know the answer to these questions. I have my suspicions, but these are more med-specific and would likely not apply to other areas of study. What one must consider is this: all medical students were premeds at some point. And, generally, premeds just suck. There are many types, but the most noticeable ones are those that always sit in the front and ask questions because they are kissing the professors ass with the hope of getting the professor to write a recommendation for him/herdown the line. Unfortunately, these premeds, upon fooling medical school admissions interviewers across the country into thinking they are genuine and normal and not idiotic competitive fools, evolved into medical students but forgot that they no longer have to gently press their overactive lips onto the waste disposal mechanisms of their professors for approval.
What are the consequences of these so-called (by me) hypertalkers? All this leads to profs going way overtime to finish lectures that were planned for ~50min, angry students who don't get a break between lectures and now can only focus on their overflowing bladders, and confused audiences who can't get any continuity in the lecture because it gets interrupted every four minutes, so they don't know what the hell is going on after having to tune out for 5+minutes while this moron asked a completely useless question and the prof struggled to answer it without making the person feel bad.
To these hypertalkers I have this to say:1) SHUT UP
2) I can't speak for every medschool, but mine is Pass/Fail (and most are some variation on this trend). Simply put, everyone passes, and residency admissions directors don't give a shit what you did the first two years anyways...they only look at your step 1 board scores and care more about what you do during your rotations.
3) A couple of friends in my class did a little experiment, observing our most notorious hypertalker for one two hour lecture block, counting the amount of times she asked questions and the length of time it took to answer/disregard each question. They then used that info to calculate (yea well we're all dorky at this point so it's no big deal) how many lecture hours of our lives they are taking up in a given year, and that number came up to 27 lecture hours per year (at first that seems like not a big deal, but think about it...those are LECTURE hours, as in, amount of time you spend sitting on your ass in an uncomfortable chair struggling to stay awake and pay attention). 27 hours of me missing out on old people telling me stuff I need to know because these people don't know how to shuttup. Which leads me to point #4...
4) SHUT UP
(To undergrads who pull this shit, I would suggest reviewing steps 1 and 4 of the above, as well as the following piece of advice: Professors are not dumb. In fact, they have to be pretty damn smart to get those jobs in the first place. Don't think they can't see through your bullshit, because they can and will note such behavior on the recommendations you so desperately seek.)
So this leaves us with the greatest of all questions...what to do with these people? Well there doesn't seem to be any obvious way to have them kicked out, so that's not an option. Things that help include professors who won't put up with their crap. My personal favorite is this one prof who told this hypertalker in front of the entire class, "Isn't there some sort of limit on the amount of questions you can ask?" Which leads too...
THE GRAND SOLUTION (shout out to a few members of class of 2010 for providing most, if not all, of the ideas below...names witheld because i don't remember who said what)This is how it's going to be: At the beginning of each semester/quarter/block/whatever, each student is given a certain amount of question tickets. The total number equates to the amount of questions this person is allowed to ask per semester/quarter/block/whatever. Every time he/she asks a question, the student must give a ticket to the professor. If they use them up in the first week, tough shit. If they lose them, tough shit. If they forge them to be able to ask more questions, that's just sad (and I'll individually number and track them so I'll know which are frauds). Students who don't normally ask questions can set up a black market and sell them to the highest bidder, making them feel at least financially compensated for all of the time that these people are taking from their lives. It's a beautiful system...This entry is dedicated to all the HumBio hypertalkers who made it such a great premed core for Temple class of 2006.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Oh Sweet Lord No!
Well, it had to happen eventually. The beautiful summer months faded away, and I look to the future and all I see is wads and wads of shit up ahead.Yes, ladies and gentlemen, summer vacation is just about over and it is time once again to delve into that bastion of confusion, hypocrisy, and idiocy more commonly referred to as medical school. Gone are the lazy days of sleeping until noon and doing nothing all day. In fact, for this sad medical student, those days are gone forever, as I will no longer be able to experience a summer vacation as we all know it ever again. In its place lies hours and hours of lecture, compounded with hours and hours of pointless (and the occasional utterly detrimental for learning) labs and other assorted vaguely medical related activities.Perhaps I have not stated my case clearly enough, but I look upon the beginning of my second year of medical school and I'm not particularly thrilled about it. While I realize I do have a lot to look forward too, especially those precious months I get to spend studying for an agonizingly painful medical licensing board exam, I just can't get too excited about waking up as the asscrack of dawn to be in another lecture hall at 7:30AM tomorrow morning.
It's back to ridiculously uptight premeds who still haven't realized they are already in medical school and don't need to be their premed selves anymroe. It's back to teachers who either a) don't want to be there, b) don't know what they are supposed to be teaching because of this seemingly unorganized new curriculum that isn't set straight, or c) want to teach but never reallly learned how. It's back to the same routine of class, lunch, class, home,workout, study, tv, study some more,tv sleep.I think there is only one way to really sum up all that is tomorrow: woo hoo!
It's back to ridiculously uptight premeds who still haven't realized they are already in medical school and don't need to be their premed selves anymroe. It's back to teachers who either a) don't want to be there, b) don't know what they are supposed to be teaching because of this seemingly unorganized new curriculum that isn't set straight, or c) want to teach but never reallly learned how. It's back to the same routine of class, lunch, class, home,workout, study, tv, study some more,tv sleep.I think there is only one way to really sum up all that is tomorrow: woo hoo!
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