Here's the thing - after I finished the marathon of exams in September I went to Halifax for the addictions psych elective and had this *insane* schedule which consisted of copious amounts of free time. 9am-4pm. No studying. No weekends. Just show up, be present, and have an open mind.
Then, back in Baltimore for Cardiology in November and Gastroenterology in December.
Cardio hours were something like: 830 - 3, with half day Fridays. GI was more of a shit-show (pun and no-pun intended) with longer and more ridiculous days.
In summary, it only stands to reason that I had a whole lot of nothing going on, therefore had nothing to write you about. Well, that, and I was incredibly lazy.
Some highlights (or lowlights, depending on the view) since Sept 13, 2013:
The next day I had to wake up at 330am to head to the airport for the there-and-back trip to renew my visa. The good news - I had no problem this time getting the visa, and the lovely immigration officer was all, "here, have a whole year. enjoy!" The bad news - the friggin flight out of Montreal kept getting delayed, then more delayed, then more delayed. I ended up being in Montreal airport for 8 hours, and in Newark for 4 hours (laying on the floor in fetal trying to stay warm in the excessively air-conditioned gate, alternating with crouching under the hand-dryer in the bathroom. Homelessness is not a good look on me). I arrived back to my bed in Baltimore at 330am.
Went on a 20+ hour road trip with mama and papa bear to Halifax, which was actually a lot of fun and went by super fast because, as it turns out, we are extremely chatty. The most notable hour of the trip was crossing the George Washington bridge as my heart exploded from all the palpitations, and I near shit my pants. Add on that, due to the fact that we were surrounded by concrete, the GPS kept 'losing satellite signal' (and informing us in that most irritating computer voice), so suffice to say - we took a few wrong turns, began 'winging it', and eventually found our way. No thanks to that GPS bitch.
I had the *greatest* time in Halifax for so many reasons. Let me emphasize that more... I had the *GREATEST* time!!! I stayed with my borderline-long-lost-now-amazingly-close-cousin, Telaina, her husband, and their 3 ridiculously loveable kids. Between being with family, feeling a sense of belonging, living in a stunning east coast autumn, having a non-demanding work schedule, actually being appreciated at work, going back to Anne of Green Gables, and being with the Kelly family (needs mentioning twice because it was THE most wonderful part), I had the loveliest month.
My ridiculously incredible father came back to Halifax just so I wouldn't have to do the drive back to Shitamore alone.
Cardiology was... interesting? Definitely NOT because I'm interested in cardiology, but more due to the fact that my preceptor was a 75 yr old Iranian who , after seeing morbidly overweight patients with tons of problems and unbearable joint pain (just as one example), would say, "he should just be taken out back and shot". Really, he was actually a sweet man, but calling him "old-school" just barely skims the surface of his style. I couldn't complain... the hours were ridiculously easy with half-day Fridays.
GI. Oh GI. How I will *never* miss you. My preceptor was bat-shit-crazy. The hours were typically 730am-6pm, with quite a few days going 730-730. In all those hours, the two other students (two sweet Canadian girls) and I did literally 1 hour of "real work". This hour was more of a cumulative effect in the clinic over 4 or so hours. There were only 2 computers so we would rotate with taking patients. Our "job" was to get all the intake information from the patient and input it into the EMR this doc had - ie saving him from wasting his time doing that - then go out and report to the doc what was going on with the patient. We would then go back into the exam room with the doctor, stand there like a friggin idiot, listen while he went over *exactly* the same questions, and stave off the annoyed gaze from the patient which seemed to scream - "you friggin idiot student! you just wasted my time!" We really served to save time for suresies.
Beyond our invaluable contribution to clinic patients, our 'dooties' included, but not limited to, the following:
- watching the always fascinating colonoscopy for 4-6 hours. But don't let those numbers fool you... it felt like friggin forever. Every. Time. What I learned from this experience is: 1. one of the most offensive sounds to my ears (after open-mouth gum chewing, open-mouth eating, loud breathing, and eating crunchy food loudly) is snoring. As in, I actually had to resist the urge to yell at the anesthetized patient to 'STOP THAT! STOP!' 2. if there is one thing that is universally true, it is that farts are hilarious. Particularly when they are coming from knocked-out patients who have no idea that they are producing some of *thee* loudest, most outrageous, farts when then sneeze, cough, or cringe.
- During colonoscopy watching time, the doc would have me make his phone calls to patients, his equipment repair guy, his son, or really anyone he needed to get information from or relay messages to, but couldn't because his hands were busy maneuvering a long, thin, camera up someone's ass.
- He would also have me send out emails. Text people for him. Reply to texts. Search ebay for little machine parts. Find him tickets to a particular Ravens game. Replace the belt in one of the master printer (with instructions to 'just figure it out' and 'don't mess it up because I completely rely on this printer for business and then I'd be screwed'). Replace the fluorescent ceiling lights because "who knows when there will be another tall student".
- Carry an endless supply of heavy boxes from the old office, load them into our cars, drive to new office, unload. While on the topic of this 'new office'... one day after all the 'work' is done he says to us, "I need you guys to come to the new office with me because I really need your help with something". We all meet him there, (bear in mind after a 30 min drive) and the task he just needed our help with was going from room-to-room with him as he decided where to have the "phone, fax, router" installed. He needed three medical students to write it on a sticky note and place that note where he pointed to on the wall. He then needed to ensure that our ability to press the sticky part of the note against the wall with the appropriate technique which would secure the greatest stickiness grasping potential, thus he would go over every note and press it down himself. This process took a mere 2 hours. After which, he concluded that the notes *may* not be sticky enough, so we would come back tomorrow and tape down each note. Educated minds utilized well.
- On much-too-many occasions he would call us away from our sitting-only-waiting-to-be-beckoned-nothingness, into his office because he "had something he wanted to talk to us about". Once we got in there he would start to say something, but then interrupt himself, "just let me finish this", and we would watch him proceed to finish making his phone calls. We would just sit there. In silence. Sometimes for up to an hour. Our time was precious to him. He would finish the phone calls and never-not-once did he "talk to us" about anything.
- This concept of simply, yet disturbingly, wanting our presence around him extended into having us come to the hospital with him for rounds, consults, and procedures. Don't let those doctery sounding words fool you into believing we were gaining anything from this. We were there to follow him every where he went, and to do nothing. We were affectionately referred to as his "beautiful entourage" by nurses and other doctors. This once again highlights the bullshit of this rotation, because we were actually his "beautiful bitches".
- To top off this malted diarrhea sundae... when he wanted to get our attention or beckon us somewhere ... he would *whistle* at us. The same whistle melody and tone one uses to call a dog. Did I mention we were his bitches?
I was blessed to have had 2 weeks off to go home for Christmas. It was the quintessential Canadian Christmas. Beyond seeing everyone worth seeing, the highlight had to be New Years Eve playing a game, called "What", with my ridiculously-hilarious-and-insanely-disturbed-in-the-head family. It's probably for the best there's going to be a psychiatrist in the family soon.
I am now back living in Michigan. No more Ramada living though! I've moved up in the world y'all. I'm living in the super classy Extended Stay America.
January was dermatology.
This month is urology. Friend who have asked what I'm doing right now, and I respond with 'urology', the response I keep getting over and over is... "ooooh I can't see you liking that". They would be correct. Although I have a pretty awesome preceptor - he's running for congress - and he totally recognizes that I do not care about urology as a future psychiatrist. So he's just having me create a presentation on the urological implications of psychotropic medications, and study for my upcoming Step 2 CS. I'm alright with that.
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