Hopeful Surgeons Grow in Gardens

20131026_174135Don’t think hacking kale roots or yanking out mutant carrots sounds like surgery? Consider the first an amputation. Picture the second as a removal of infected sebaceous glands–yuck. Maybe don’t. But however you slice it, us future docs must learn how to be handy with metal objects.

Basic training began in our own backyard, or rather, a community garden in a local church’s backyard. Orienting ourselves with the sterile field, we gloved and gowned (why?) then plunged into digging and pulling and all around mess-making. Continue reading

Free Clinic Where? My Heart There

Just this Wednesday my friend told me I was confused about the community clinic schedule. While I often function in this perpetual state of absentmindedness and misreading-ness and plain not-knowing-ness, I reacted having forgotten, once more, those personality flaws–

Whadd’you mean?! I signed up to work the free clinic this Saturday! It’s my first time.

My face made a happy smile.

She winced for a half second as if mentally fact checking, No, I schedule medical students and I didn’t see you on the list for this weekend.
Continue reading

Systolic / Diastolic

Cero. Nada. That’s what the blood pressure cuff read on Tyson Kidd… as well as on every other WWE action figure that a nine year-old boy could gather up in a bear hug. Half-an-hour prior, he had worn that same cuff, sitting, his little legs swinging. The attending physician and his mother, having just won a blood-glucose-finger-prick wrestling match, marveled at how calmly he sat. My stethoscope held within the crook of his arm, I listened for the start and end of a faint murmur. Tick, tick, tick along the pressure gauge which read one-ten over fifty. I asked if he was going to be a doctor someday. He simply grinned from ear to ear.
Continue reading