For an hour, I had an MD behind my name.
I slipped on a long white coat, became a real doctor, and saw a patient.
This all started when our awesome ethics facilitator realized we had no idea what an ECMO (extra-corporal membrane oxygenation) machine was. We had been debating end of life care, agreeing that it was best to pull life support for our hypothetical patient.
"Do you guys know what ECMO is?"
Did we actually know what it would mean to take away the only thing keeping a fellow human alive? Would we be able to pull life support when it was time?
"No? Let's go see!"
We were dressed in jeans and sandals. Great for the weather outside. Not exactly professional.
"Oh wait...none of you have white coats. Okay, we can fix that."
So she leads us to the ICU floor, finds this restricted area and punches in a code, and accesses all the spare white coats of all the ICU attendings. I remember we were all looking furtively around in case someone walks in on us.
After she made sure we all got coats of attendings that weren't on...she waltz us onto the floor, and shows us what real medicine looks like.
It looks like a precious little infant sprawled on a gurney with tubes as wide as her neck attached directly to her heart that did not beat. It looks like two young parents looking apprehensively at the 9 "doctors" in long coats crowded around a bank of monitors that a dedicated nurse must attend to 24/7. It looks like hope, shaped like tiny spikes of a heart the size of your nose finding the will to beat.
I just hope she didn't look down and see all of our toes peeking out under shorts, jeans, and flip flops...
Friday, April 9, 2010
Saturday, March 13, 2010
From a dinner party to holding a severed ear
It seems like my life is boring unless I am in the emergency room. I finally came back after months away to end up holding a nearly severed ear while the ENT surgeon tried to reattach it. This is why I don't go chasing after large animals at night.
It was really fun holding up the ear the entire time. The ENT resident was really nice and quizzed us on relevant stuff, and taught me a lot about suturing material. There were 4 of us hanging out in the shock room, so I had a good time chatting it up with some good friends while druggies were dragged in and out in various stages of lucidity.
Highlight of the night was when I just walked in and started a line. Wow am I rusty, but I got in on the first try. Wooooo!
Hard to imagine a hour ago I was munching on hor d'ourves celebrating a friend's recent engagement. Now if I only had a motorcycle...
It was really fun holding up the ear the entire time. The ENT resident was really nice and quizzed us on relevant stuff, and taught me a lot about suturing material. There were 4 of us hanging out in the shock room, so I had a good time chatting it up with some good friends while druggies were dragged in and out in various stages of lucidity.
Highlight of the night was when I just walked in and started a line. Wow am I rusty, but I got in on the first try. Wooooo!
Hard to imagine a hour ago I was munching on hor d'ourves celebrating a friend's recent engagement. Now if I only had a motorcycle...
Friday, January 22, 2010
Anatomy is craazy! Immunology is dramatic!
I'm on Head and Neck anatomy right now. It is all we have left to do, but I feel like I just started because it is so complicated! This block is 6 weeks long, but it is going at double-triple the rate of the whole fall semester.
Thank goodness for Visiblebody.com
That site is crazy. I LOVE IT.
Immunology has always had a special place in my heart. It was one of the big reasons why I am so in awe of the human body. I get the feeling military physicians might find immunology very familiar, because that is all it is. In a nutshell, our body is in an epic battle for survival. The high tech tools, strategies, and dirty tricks we use is mind blowing.
Your blood is strewn with mines, your skin is crawling with spies, sentries, and snipers. The calvary gets called in, mobile command centers migrate to field locations, and oh dear god the complex signaling involved is CRAZY! Things get cleaved, imploded, and exploded. Things gang up on each other, others commit suicide. Sometimes your body wins, lots of times it loses. Badly. Mothers will try to kill their babies, and men destroy their own sperm.
And I am less than half way through the course. And after that...there are two blocks of Infectious Disease. I can't wait!
Thank goodness for Visiblebody.com
That site is crazy. I LOVE IT.
Immunology has always had a special place in my heart. It was one of the big reasons why I am so in awe of the human body. I get the feeling military physicians might find immunology very familiar, because that is all it is. In a nutshell, our body is in an epic battle for survival. The high tech tools, strategies, and dirty tricks we use is mind blowing.
Your blood is strewn with mines, your skin is crawling with spies, sentries, and snipers. The calvary gets called in, mobile command centers migrate to field locations, and oh dear god the complex signaling involved is CRAZY! Things get cleaved, imploded, and exploded. Things gang up on each other, others commit suicide. Sometimes your body wins, lots of times it loses. Badly. Mothers will try to kill their babies, and men destroy their own sperm.
And I am less than half way through the course. And after that...there are two blocks of Infectious Disease. I can't wait!
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Sweet Dreams
Good stuff coming soon, I promise. Lots of ideas just bubbling around. Amazing what you can do when you start to have regular sleep.
Before: lived in a dorm for the past five years. Last three, on the corner of the medical center on one of the busiest streets in town. Last year, on first floor, woken up by ambulances every night.
-Last 2 years, drove an ambulance all hours of the night, roughly every 3rd night. For. Two. Years.
-Essentially, I have never had regular sleep since high school. Oh wait. That didn't count. Perhaps not since my days of recess thanks to a teenager's messed up hormones?
Now: 7-8 hours a night. Undisturbed, thanks to a nice cushy place with a great non-nocturnal roommate. My brain is aliiive again! I am even off of caffeine ever since I went cold-turkey this break.
It also really helps that I am on a nice workout/run schedule again. The link is definitely there: the better sleep you get, the more energy you have during the day to have fun and play; the more exercise you get, you enjoy better quality sleep. Win win! Yay.
Before: lived in a dorm for the past five years. Last three, on the corner of the medical center on one of the busiest streets in town. Last year, on first floor, woken up by ambulances every night.
-Last 2 years, drove an ambulance all hours of the night, roughly every 3rd night. For. Two. Years.
-Essentially, I have never had regular sleep since high school. Oh wait. That didn't count. Perhaps not since my days of recess thanks to a teenager's messed up hormones?
Now: 7-8 hours a night. Undisturbed, thanks to a nice cushy place with a great non-nocturnal roommate. My brain is aliiive again! I am even off of caffeine ever since I went cold-turkey this break.
It also really helps that I am on a nice workout/run schedule again. The link is definitely there: the better sleep you get, the more energy you have during the day to have fun and play; the more exercise you get, you enjoy better quality sleep. Win win! Yay.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Endocrinology rocks.
One advantage about the way my preclinical curriculum is set up is that it is very similar to college.
Most med schools will put you in a bulimic state of learning: you spend a solid month in one class, learning all of human body's anatomy for example. You spend days memorizing every aspect of every piece of tissue until you start dreaming about it. Then come test time you have to vomit it all up. Repeat for every class, and it is a wonder we remember anything at all.
However, my days are spent learning all of the subjects at once by systems. Right now I am looking at butts and genitalia. I get to know everything about it: histology, anatomy, physiology, etc. I should know everything doctors know about how the body is when nothing is broken. I think it is great because everything is skillfully woven together, and I do not have to learn all about the hand in one day, then revisit it months later. The best part is that we get to keep the same professor for the whole subject, instead of the usual parade of PhD's needed to sustain a solid month scheduling for one subject.
I particularly love the endocrinology. The professor is pretty popular for several reasons, a great approach to teaching and a light British accent that all makes us swoon in particular.
Today, he proved he is also a gift to mankind by serving as the right hand of GOD, destroying rare diseases left and right. How so, you ask? Well we had a special session in class today, where he brought in two patients affected with diabetes. I won't go into too much detail, but basically one patient was recently afflicted with diabetes. That was the easy part, bread and butter cases for endocrinologist such as our professor.
The hard part was that the patient was had a extremely extremely rare form of diabetes. For months the patient was confined in the ICU while her blood sugar levels raced between record breaking highs, then record breaking lows. After her clinicians exhausted all options, including injecting ungodly levels of insulin to fight off the wave of sugar in her blood, our professor tried a specific anti-inflammatory drug.
It worked. In fact, it worked so well the patient was completely off any diabetes medicine when she spoke to our class. It turned out the patient had type 1 diabetes that attacked late in life when it really only shows up in kids. That kind of diabetes happens when your own body utterly renders the cells that makes insulin dead to the world, leaving none that can help you keep your blood sugar down. It is as if you want to go through a door that you have a key for, but someone stuffed gum into hole, so in frustration you keep jamming your key into the hole trying to get in. Our professor simply took out the gum, in one smooth stroke, with just one drug.
Now that is thinking outside of the box.
Most med schools will put you in a bulimic state of learning: you spend a solid month in one class, learning all of human body's anatomy for example. You spend days memorizing every aspect of every piece of tissue until you start dreaming about it. Then come test time you have to vomit it all up. Repeat for every class, and it is a wonder we remember anything at all.
However, my days are spent learning all of the subjects at once by systems. Right now I am looking at butts and genitalia. I get to know everything about it: histology, anatomy, physiology, etc. I should know everything doctors know about how the body is when nothing is broken. I think it is great because everything is skillfully woven together, and I do not have to learn all about the hand in one day, then revisit it months later. The best part is that we get to keep the same professor for the whole subject, instead of the usual parade of PhD's needed to sustain a solid month scheduling for one subject.
I particularly love the endocrinology. The professor is pretty popular for several reasons, a great approach to teaching and a light British accent that all makes us swoon in particular.
Today, he proved he is also a gift to mankind by serving as the right hand of GOD, destroying rare diseases left and right. How so, you ask? Well we had a special session in class today, where he brought in two patients affected with diabetes. I won't go into too much detail, but basically one patient was recently afflicted with diabetes. That was the easy part, bread and butter cases for endocrinologist such as our professor.
The hard part was that the patient was had a extremely extremely rare form of diabetes. For months the patient was confined in the ICU while her blood sugar levels raced between record breaking highs, then record breaking lows. After her clinicians exhausted all options, including injecting ungodly levels of insulin to fight off the wave of sugar in her blood, our professor tried a specific anti-inflammatory drug.
It worked. In fact, it worked so well the patient was completely off any diabetes medicine when she spoke to our class. It turned out the patient had type 1 diabetes that attacked late in life when it really only shows up in kids. That kind of diabetes happens when your own body utterly renders the cells that makes insulin dead to the world, leaving none that can help you keep your blood sugar down. It is as if you want to go through a door that you have a key for, but someone stuffed gum into hole, so in frustration you keep jamming your key into the hole trying to get in. Our professor simply took out the gum, in one smooth stroke, with just one drug.
Now that is thinking outside of the box.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Thanksgiving is. So. Close.
Something going around that really struck me...
I am thankful for the teenagers who are complaining about doing chores -- that means they are home and safe.
... for homework. It means we live in a country where education is valued and encouraged for all.
... for the taxes I pay; it means I have income.
... for the mess that I have to clean up after parties, because it means I am surrounded by friends.
... for the clothes that fit a little 'too snug' because it means I have enough to eat.
... for the lawn to mow, windows to wash and gutters to clean; it means I have a home.
... for the parking spot I found at the far end of the parking lot, because it means I am capable of walking and am blessed with transportation.
... for my huge heating bill, because it means I am warm.
... for the person behind me in church that sings off key, because it means I can hear.
... for the pile of laundry and ironing, because it means I have clothes to wear.
... for all the complaining I hear about the government; it means we have freedom of speech.
... for the alarm that goes off early in the morning because it means that I am alive!
Author unknown
I am thankful for the teenagers who are complaining about doing chores -- that means they are home and safe.
... for homework. It means we live in a country where education is valued and encouraged for all.
... for the taxes I pay; it means I have income.
... for the mess that I have to clean up after parties, because it means I am surrounded by friends.
... for the clothes that fit a little 'too snug' because it means I have enough to eat.
... for the lawn to mow, windows to wash and gutters to clean; it means I have a home.
... for the parking spot I found at the far end of the parking lot, because it means I am capable of walking and am blessed with transportation.
... for my huge heating bill, because it means I am warm.
... for the person behind me in church that sings off key, because it means I can hear.
... for the pile of laundry and ironing, because it means I have clothes to wear.
... for all the complaining I hear about the government; it means we have freedom of speech.
... for the alarm that goes off early in the morning because it means that I am alive!
Author unknown
Friday, November 20, 2009
Tankmate!
Check out this post from my tankmate about our very first day in anatomy lab.
This is sort to make up for my dearth of posts during that critical time of my life. Let me know if you want to hear more about anything!
PS - This is what you've been missing out on:
http://streetanatomy.com/2009/10/26/hello-anatomical-kitty/
This is sort to make up for my dearth of posts during that critical time of my life. Let me know if you want to hear more about anything!
PS - This is what you've been missing out on:
http://streetanatomy.com/2009/10/26/hello-anatomical-kitty/
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Quitting
Quitting. I thought about it today.
A big soft-skills final exam is coming up, and I feel totally unprepared. I mean yes, I know how to do a brief history/physical exam already, but not the "full" one that allows physicians to explore the full spectrum of disease a patient might have. My exam consisted of the ABC's - is your Airway open? Good. Can you Breath? Even better. Do you have a Circulation? Dandy. That's the big idea for medics out in the field.
But now, I actually need to be able to feel for splenomegaly, and listen for heart murmurs. What? My preceptorship is in the highest socio-economic strata of this part of the state. Before I even started my preceptor visits, he warned me on the phone that I might not be able to do as much as I could.
At the time, I brushed it off, thinking my previous experience would be fine. So up until today, I half-assed my visits. I played along, and thus became complacent. I didn't get any chance to practice skills that will enable me to detect diseases and tease out differential diagnoses.
As test time got closer and closer, I started to panic. My classmates started to catch up to me, and I realized I had gotten rusty. Some of them had preceptors that let them loose, and as a result they learned and learned about the most fundamental skills a physician should be perfect at. Soon, jealousy took hold, and I wanted to defect to perhaps another preceptor site. It was rare to do so, but it is possible. For example, one of my classmates was assigned to a gastroenterologist. When she needed to learn how to take vital signs, all of her patients just needed to get scoped.
I walked into the pediatrics clinic today, I mentally took a deep breath. It was the last visit of the year. Maybe forever. So let's make the most of it, I thought. If I piss off some anxious parent fussing over their trust fund kid...screw it. I need to learn, so that I can help scores of future patients.
I just kept jumping in all day, and surprisingly, no one stopped me. It reminded me of when I first realized what I could do as a supervisor EMT, leading a team at a major rollover accident. I just did it.
At the end of the day, my preceptor had a simple visit, but had grown up with the patient's grandfather. After almost six decades of friendship, my preceptor's friend passed away the same year as his wife, only a couple years ago. Everyone in the room teared up except for me when this was brought up. My preceptor had such a enduring bond with the families of his patients. It just took me a semester to realize it. My biggest lesson yet.
I'm not going to quit. I can still get a lot of learning experiences here, and my preceptor isn't some concierge physician catering to the rich and famous. He has taken care of many PARENTS of the patients here, and is a pillar of the local community here. I can learn so much from him, and I am going to stay.
A big soft-skills final exam is coming up, and I feel totally unprepared. I mean yes, I know how to do a brief history/physical exam already, but not the "full" one that allows physicians to explore the full spectrum of disease a patient might have. My exam consisted of the ABC's - is your Airway open? Good. Can you Breath? Even better. Do you have a Circulation? Dandy. That's the big idea for medics out in the field.
But now, I actually need to be able to feel for splenomegaly, and listen for heart murmurs. What? My preceptorship is in the highest socio-economic strata of this part of the state. Before I even started my preceptor visits, he warned me on the phone that I might not be able to do as much as I could.
At the time, I brushed it off, thinking my previous experience would be fine. So up until today, I half-assed my visits. I played along, and thus became complacent. I didn't get any chance to practice skills that will enable me to detect diseases and tease out differential diagnoses.
As test time got closer and closer, I started to panic. My classmates started to catch up to me, and I realized I had gotten rusty. Some of them had preceptors that let them loose, and as a result they learned and learned about the most fundamental skills a physician should be perfect at. Soon, jealousy took hold, and I wanted to defect to perhaps another preceptor site. It was rare to do so, but it is possible. For example, one of my classmates was assigned to a gastroenterologist. When she needed to learn how to take vital signs, all of her patients just needed to get scoped.
I walked into the pediatrics clinic today, I mentally took a deep breath. It was the last visit of the year. Maybe forever. So let's make the most of it, I thought. If I piss off some anxious parent fussing over their trust fund kid...screw it. I need to learn, so that I can help scores of future patients.
I just kept jumping in all day, and surprisingly, no one stopped me. It reminded me of when I first realized what I could do as a supervisor EMT, leading a team at a major rollover accident. I just did it.
At the end of the day, my preceptor had a simple visit, but had grown up with the patient's grandfather. After almost six decades of friendship, my preceptor's friend passed away the same year as his wife, only a couple years ago. Everyone in the room teared up except for me when this was brought up. My preceptor had such a enduring bond with the families of his patients. It just took me a semester to realize it. My biggest lesson yet.
I'm not going to quit. I can still get a lot of learning experiences here, and my preceptor isn't some concierge physician catering to the rich and famous. He has taken care of many PARENTS of the patients here, and is a pillar of the local community here. I can learn so much from him, and I am going to stay.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Rectal Intercourse
We learned in histology today why rectal intercourse is not as great as it was made out to be.
Your anal canal is what meets the outside, and has nice thick layers of cells that prevent HIV and other bugs from invading your body. Now, one inch into the colon...you get to the rectum. Now, that is only one cell layer thick. I would imagine it is easier for HIV to cross that than...let's say through regular vaginal intercourse. So that's a no-go fellas.
The whole time, the professor kept interchanging "rectal intercourse" with "butt @#$(."
Oh he knows what he is doing. Every time he uses the colloquial, he immediately follows with, "that's not funny!" You can imagine how hard it was for the class today to maintain composure.
Your anal canal is what meets the outside, and has nice thick layers of cells that prevent HIV and other bugs from invading your body. Now, one inch into the colon...you get to the rectum. Now, that is only one cell layer thick. I would imagine it is easier for HIV to cross that than...let's say through regular vaginal intercourse. So that's a no-go fellas.
The whole time, the professor kept interchanging "rectal intercourse" with "butt @#$(."
Oh he knows what he is doing. Every time he uses the colloquial, he immediately follows with, "that's not funny!" You can imagine how hard it was for the class today to maintain composure.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Haunting
Beautiful, beautiful prose. I hope what happened to her never happens to me, but I bet it will, over and over.
That said, Critical Care sounds more appealing every day...
That said, Critical Care sounds more appealing every day...
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