Lots of people-and by lots, I mean my grandma and sometimes a bright eyed bushy-tailed college student-ask me "so, what do you do in medical school?"
This is typically followed by something analogous to "Is it hard?", at which I usually shake my head no and say that anyone with a copy of a medical curriculum and access to Wikipedia can probably learn what I am, sans the 250,000 dollar expenditure. There's a couple other factors involved, obviously; I consider them mostly swag (my stethoscope is about the only cool device to make me look fake-important around non-med student society). That whole licensing thing is probably a big deal.
I present to you: the boring day in the boring life of a boring student preparing for a boring exam (Actually, Cardiology is pretty cool. My brain is just really tired of seeing words that end in -itis, -oma, or acronyms). Up next post: Why not to blow off OMM if you want to be a fancy pants orthopaedic surgeon, how avoid dressing like you're still 20 years old and in a sorority while seeing your standardized patient and other frilly formal grad school events (I once thought this would be kind of fun....recent observations have made me deem it necessary. Le sigh), and other nuggets of golden talkity-talk.
Tuesday, the eve-eve of Exam 2 in Cardio.
5pm: Park myself in the Anatomy Lab Lounge. Probably the only perk of snaking the drains in work study is the super quiet, non-argumentative or passive aggressive atmosphere of the Cadaver Lab. I kind of love it.
7:15pm: Pandora is on. I read at a rate of about 2 words per minute because every song is distracting although I'm lying to myself to say it's not.
8pm: Medication time. I have a "condition" (I quote it because it sounds ridiculous and everyone makes me spell it aloud) called idiopathic hypersomnolence disorder. For anyone who doesn't like 10 syllables, it's essentially a close cousin to Narcolepsy, which unlike many movies portray, is not randomly falling asleep everywhere....although it CAN be like that, but think more of your brain shutting down, not necessarily sleeping (i.e., can't talk effectively, poor motor control, laughing or even getting emotional is exhausting...it's weird). I'm annoyed and uncomfortable because that's what CNS stimulants do to you. I eat Grant's (my study husband) entire pack of gum out of nervousness. I have a problem. I LOVE GUM.
9-ish: The freak out stage commences. THERE IS SO MUCH !@#(*&!@#(*&!@#(*& TO LEARN AND I HAVE NEVER SEEN IT BEFORE OMG WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE.
10pm: the munchies stage. I eat everything I can find. Redbull counts (it tastes like gasoline; why do people pretend to like this?). I resume Pandora in hope of a serendipitously timed inspirational song. Kendrick Lamar disappoints me. Subliminal lyrics are telling me to drink heavily and then fall asleep and reminisce about the pool for liquor then you dive in. Or something.
I pause here to ask Grant, "What ELSE did we do Tuesday night? I need more to write for this post."
Grant replies something gross and inappropriate (and untrue). Make up your own joke here because it's probably verbatim.
almost-11pm: I go to print stuff out in the Library: Let me start by saying...I hate the Library. I used to love libraries. Knowledge! Musty smells of the annals of journals! Intellectual curiosity! Your own private nook to nap/read/laptop/Facebook/stare at pigeons out the window! A place to take Instagram pictures of your coffee juxtaposed to your stack of books (as if you actually knew how to read)! But alas, no more. The library is a dark, dark place for me. I don't do well with that 'atmosphere' of panic, especially if I'm going to contribute to it. I see a couple friendly, less-intimidating faces. I print out my junk and run, and say hello to remind people (or myself), that I'm not a totally reclusive a-hole, that I'm just pretty much terrified of human beings in general.
11:15pm: I do lunges upstairs in the lab. I'm so awake it's annoying. Grant is on the steady decline.
midnight: I leave. I shower, I watch Family Guy, I make the mistake of thinking about tomorrow/today.
Wednesday, 1:40am: I fall asleep...I think.
Wednesday, 5:50am: I go to the gym, box up some cadavers, and resume the above cycle all over again.
Tada!
xoxo,
V
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