The End is Drawing Near...

I think my entire class stopped being able to study when we collectively hit April. The sun is shining, the water is sparkling, the beach is calling... The library is such a cold, desolate place. (It is also, and these two things might be related, the center of my social life.) All of the classes that we thought might be interesting (Physiology? Can't wait to learn how everything we memorized in anatomy actually works! Neuroscience? The inner-workings of the brain are fascinating!) turned out to be indistinguishable from last semester when the dry syllabus notes were stacked and compared. And at this point, no one really believes they will be flunked out. Sure there are the rumors. Did you hear, six people left after the second exam? Four people after the first? Yet no one can name all these people who have left. Mysterious. It could be everyone is just leading me on, saying "Sure, I know what you mean. Can't study an hour without going stir-crazy..." when secretly they are chugging Red Bull, sleeping five hours a night, and logging 15 hours a day at the library. But I doubt it.

Physical Diagnosis

First thing this morning I went to the student bookstore and bought some new toys--a cheap plastic ruler and a reflex hammer. The more items you have to put in the pockets of your short white coat, the less you feel like a sham. Anyhow, my plastic ruler was for estimating jugular venous pressure and my reflex hammer was for percussing because today I had my first physical diagnosis exam! It was about as spectacular as I expected it would be. I managed to briefly forget which of my hands was dominant and therefore capable of operating the valve of a blood pressure cuff. I, and this is a classic mistake, forgot to lower the round rolly-stool that our school puts in the exam rooms to cause us strife, so that it shot out behind me as I sat, losing me a good fifteen professionalism and personal dignity points. I spent a full thirty seconds pulling out the leg extension on the exam table, which had jammed. I was thankful to wash my hands before beginning the exam, not because neglecting to do so would earn me failing marks, but because it allowed me to disguise their clamminess. Despite all this, I think I managed to do my best patient interview yet, as well as bumble through the motions of the exam. I pretend to be a doctor, the actor pretends to be a patient, and it all works out in the end.

I should be asleep now, or studying, as it is test week. But I desperately needed to do something that wasn't studying respiratory physiology this evening, if only for a few moments.