March 31st, 2004

White Coat

A baby cries...

I think I know what triggered my headache tonight, O Best Beloved. It was the last patient.
I had hoped, foolishly I know but I had hoped that my sudden revelation this morning that I have a lecture entitiled Practical Eye Lab (bring your opthalmoscope!) on Friday despite the fact that my opthalmoscope is currently in Fort Wayne would be magically combined with another generous gift of time like yesterday's. Time, after all, is a valuable thing for a medical student to have, and it makes a lovely - if cumbersomely packaged - gift. This became adequately clear when I tried to schedule a doctor's appointment for a day when I could be in Fort Wayne to go to the doctor's.
Time was not to be mine today. The day began auspiciously in that our attending physician is brilliant, compassionate, funny and loves to teach; collided with two hours of lecture from twelve to two - even Lindy and Brendan commented that they had a difficult time staying awake, and I retreated to NetHack on my PocketPC in lieu of passing out from acute lack of concentrative skills half an hour into the second hour - and then spiralled rapidly out of control.
Collapse )

Confidence will come, as I immerse myself in this fantastic opportunity. The Neurology service prides itself on teaching; we are given books and binders and articles filled with things to know and learn. I am not as frightened now as I was, planning it, and I have faith that I will pull through. But my head still echoes with the muscle-clenching noise of a dead channel on a television, and I can still smell used cigarettes, and there are soft clicks and rearranging patterns almost tangible at my fingertips, and it is long past time to submerge myself in unconsciousness again and sleep until perhaps I have forgotten it once more.
The alcohol scrub makes my hands smell like surgical gloves.
  • Current Mood
    exhausted exhausted