March 29th, 2004

Notre Dame des Dons

Disney did it in the 60's, why can't we?

There is a hospital complex in this city of hospitals and hospital-bound students; three individual entities who decided to bind themselves together as one corporation. Two of them stand on the campus a stone's throw from each other, crowded together. I can walk from one rotation to the next, cycle through four hospitals on foot, each with a reputation, a flavour, a personality all its own. The third in this unholy profit-making triad is some distance away by car, and the city permitted the hospitals to build a monorail between the three, to facilitate transportation.
It never works. The People Mover breaks down more often than it's running, it seems, especially when the weather is (a) windy (b) snowy (c) rainy or (d) overcast. This is spring in Indiana, O Best Beloved. We average one day of sunshine a week.

The People Mover was broken this morning, occasioning the need for us to carpool out to the hospital for the first session of our Medicine-Neuro-Psych Intersession, second day. I hitched a ride with Lindy (how can someone so small, soft-spoken and sweet intimidate me so much?), Michelle and a new kid named Mike. I was social and chatted, even went and got chai when the others got coffee; burned my tastebuds off my tongue. "I should've ordered it only lava-hot," Mike comments, blowing into the tiny hole in the plastic top on his earth-toned paper cup.
We drank chai and coffee and talked with the others. I complained about my OB evaluation; I was commiserated by several others who noted that high test scores had been similarly non-rewarded by the staff, even with the addition of positive comments from reviewers. It seems you simply don't high-pass OB without working with particular staff and impressing them. It made me feel better, as did the e-mail stating that my request for more information (I wrote a lovely letter, O Best Beloved) would be passed on to the appropriate staff.

We broke into groups of three and saw our standardized patients. Was the exercise hard? No, not really. But the patients...Collapse )

I came back to an empty house, after shopping for groceries. I have killed my time quite admirably, O Best Beloved, going to Curves (212 on their scale, despite having a scrumptiously lovely weekend) and showering, writing about my day and completely ignoring anything productive I was going to do. I'll be productive later, during the rest of the rotation.
I start Pediatric Neurology tomorrow; the latest in a series of rotations apparently designed by myself to ensure that I don't get a whole lot of adult exposure while I prepare for an exam that will be almost entirely adult medicine. I don't know what I was thinking when I did this. I have, however, survived thus far. And I do adore the children's hospital, and the nurses there may be willing to let me do a bit of procedural business...perhaps even putting NG tubes in.
It's 2325, and I need to be on campus at 0800 tomorrow. Custom dictates six hours of sleep; that seems to be enough that I don't drag all day and yet not so much that I can't wake up in the morning. I should read my Pearls and get ready to face Neuro. Did I mention I hate Neuro, O Best Beloved?
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