I ended up back in the hospital over vacation*** Continue reading
Spending time with my dearest daughter** made my night. While I haven’t seen her in two weeks, not terribly motherly of me, I did try to ask good questions before our exercise class– Continue reading
Lots of my friends registered for the USMLE Step 1 this weekend, displaying confirmatory white sheets of printer paper with some fancy 580 dollar embossed stamp. Not as uninhibited after our final exam of the first block, I’d hesitated, was hesitating, am ruminating, all in some near paralyzed fashion.
Do you dare, darling? Continue reading
Confession: I have three children.*
You could say I’m a terrible mother since I see them only once in a whole week. And even on that one day, I give them around an hour, tops. Never an excuse but ever a reality, med school doesn’t leave tons of time to raise an armful of girls. I have soak up every moment when I can. And come Wednesdays, I do. Continue reading
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.
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.
I don’t pretend to be someone that only dreamt of white coat days in an MD haze. For myself and many others, the question between MD vs. PA school manifests itself. But to what extent and when is anyone’s guess. The last summer after year one and calls to 4 PA friends doesn’t seem ideal, but neither is regret over staying simply because you are capable/smart/expected to etc.