I whisper your name (ayradyss) wrote,
I whisper your name

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"You should've been a teacher."

Doctor, from Latin, "teacher", from docere, to teach. My parents are teachers. Good teachers.

Yesterday morning was the group project presentation. You can download and view our presentation here if you really want to. It's on Sports Injuries.
I don't normally work well in groups. I'm the kind of person who gets ulcers over whether or not the rest of the group is doing what they should, whether their presentation part will meld well with mine, whether someone else is going to make me get a bad grade. I'm the sort of person who really prefers to do everything herself. That way I know where to place the blame if it comes crashing down. I worked well with this group. We did our presentations and then I made them all into one, formatted, standardized, and then we rehearsed together. It was fun, we had a good time, and we got great presenting reviews from the presentation reviewer. Today we'll get student reviews and I hope they don't suck.

Tuesday and Thursday are the days I had to be in early this week, at 09:30. Every other day I've had until at least 12:30 before I had to be in. I haven't gone to Curves once. Monday I drove in from Fort Wayne. Tuesday I drove in from Fort Wayne. Wednesday I just didn't feel like it, and today I slept in instead.
I haven't felt like much of anything recently, at least not with a sustained enough drive to actually do it. Two nights in a row, now, I've gone out to the little Mexican restaurant down the road with my books and done questions there, just because there's only so much one can do in a Mexican restaurant. I have a ceaseless flirtation with doing everything and being interested in nothing at the moment; I will refresh the World of Warcraft forums every five minutes just to see if there's something I could answer, but I get bored of answering mid-sentence. I play WoW in the evenings because I find transient interest in it; it's pretty and I have to pay attention or I die. I do my reading (I've read everything but the Psychiatry section in the First Aid book) and I do my questions (400 down, I've finished the PreTest book, going to start on NMS questions next) and I should be nervous, or worried, because it would motivate me. I don't care. I'm blank and empty.
It's been two months since I did any real patient care; I haven't written an H&P since neurology in April. By the time I start my Medicine Sub-Internship, in which I must shine to get good letters of recommendation, it will have been three months since I did anything involving "real medicine". And the longer away from the field I am, the more I miss it. I'm glad I only have one month of vacation; I feel like I'm losing touch.

When did I know I needed to be a doctor? Now. My Angel will tell you, O Best Beloved, that when I am on a primary care rotation I come home energized and fulfilled. I laughed at him. He's right. The worst part about medical school is coming home to an empty room and an empty bed. Everything else I can handle. And I even miss the wards, to a certain degree. Even the five days of active Radiology, as eye-gougingly difficult as it is for me to maintain focus in a dark room with still pictures, even then I was better off than I am now, going to lectures and studying emptily.
I want a patient, someone who can make these things real to me. I can flag pancreatitis on an exam - alcoholic, chronic, acute, gallstone - not because I've studied it, but because alcoholic pancreatitis was our practise patient for the Medicine Intersession. Chronic pancreatitis was the girl with PCOS and hereditary hypertriglyceridemia who was 21 and in for her seventh bout of acute after a poorly-timed dinner of fried chicken. Gallstone acute pancreatitis was the Hispanic gentleman we never had a translator for, whose conversations were with me, in my extremely limited Spanish. "Te duele donde?" I know them because I have seen them, had to work through the differentials and ask the questions, been pimped and prodded for therapeutic options. I love it, every minute of it. I am fulfilled and energized.

I have been away two months; too long away.

There was a girl in the Mexican restaurant, a little girl with a 6-8 centimeter soft tissue mass on her chin. I wanted to ask her parents about it, to see what it was, to read about it. A little girl, real, so beautiful even with this large cylinder-like object dangling from her right mandible. I didn't; I'm sure they're tired of it.

No enjoyment for anything right now. I can't even work up excitement about seeing Angel tonight, although I'm certainly waiting in anticipation for it. I don't feel like I'm doing anything worthwhile, and I didn't understand how much it meant to me to be Doing Something instead of just doing something until I was Doing Something and had to stop. Maybe the hectic schedule in July will help things out - we'll have friends over on the 4th to watch the fireworks, I have Boards the 6th, Angel's dad is retiring from the Air Force on the 10th, and then the conferences the weekends of the 23rd and 30th. Maybe I'll go see what Habitat is doing in town and get out and work on something with my hands. Do Something.

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