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The hemorrhoids are enormous and angry looking. They are each cut from the anus and the incisions sewed together. Brian, under the supervision of HPS, grabs the colonoscope. The c’scope is then fed into his rectum and maneuvered past the sigmoid colon, snaked around the splenic flexure, pushed along the transverse colon, and then descends down the ascending colon for a a good look at the cecum. No polyps or other masses. Everyone is happy. Brian pulls the colonoscope out of the colon, HPS leaves the room to dictate the operative note, and I begin taking down the drapes. Brian takes off his sterile gloves, gown, and plastic face shield. I lean over the patients back to release a clip holding the drapes in place and my weight compresses the patient.
PHBLLEEBBTHURUUUURP!
During a colonoscopy, air is pushed into the colon to inflate it for “exposure”. As the colonoscopy is finished, this air is typically sucked out so as to leave the Pt as comfortable as possible when they leave. Brian forgot to do this.
The shit sprays everywhere. On his cheeks, his eyelids, his forehead, arms, and neck. It turns his blue scrubs brown. The anesthesiologist screams. Brian is on the other end of the room, having kicked himself reflexively from the patient on his sliding stool. In fact, he’s still coasting towards the far wall as we watch him panic, trying to find a poopless place on his body to wipe away the poop on his body. He can’t find anything. The panic sinks in its teeth.
“Somebody HELP ME!” But we’re the ones that need help. We’re twisted in knots, fighting for gulps of air as we struggle against the laughter. We’re not even human right now: the laughter owns us. The patient begins to wake up. Hearing the commotion, HPS reenters the room.
“Oh GOD!” And HPS leaves the room to dry heave in the hall. It’s been 40 seconds since my last breath and my chest is starting to spasm. I can’t tell if we’re even making noises anymore or if we’re all quietly dying of laughter.
The scrub nurse walks over to Brian and, afraid of the hand-off, throws a towel at him. He begins to wipe himself clean. The patient is awake now with the embarrassment that only a person with his asshole winking at a room full of laughter can ever truly know. Brian has wiped his face and is now storming to the wash room to clean himself. He walks by the head of the bed and the patient pieces it together.
“Oh, I’m so sorry if I pooped on you.”
Brian manages an “It’s okay” before walking out.
From the halls, we can hear the heavings of HPS start up again.
]]>My third year is fractured by discipline and geography. Watch me as I hurdle across the great states of Pennsylvania and New Jersey through Surgery, OBGYN, Psychiatry, Pediatrics, Family Practice and Internal Medicine. I plan on writing once/twice per rotation.
For now, I’m beginning my third month of Surgery in Pittsburgh.
Who knows for certain, but odds are that I’m going to cut people for a living. Others want to be physicians in order to help people and that’s great. I’m just looking for stabbings minus the jail sentence.
We begin with Trauma, a painfully slow field punctuated by bursts of exhausting speed like the sprintings of the obese. From 6am to 6pm, we waddle the four corners of the Trauma ICU tending to the most serious cases from the last week. It takes 12 hours to see 15 patients for several reasons, though I am unaware of any good ones. Attending Spanish Physician has sleep apnea. This causes him to fall asleep standing up at times in the middle of rounds while someone works up the nerve to tactfully clap their hands. Attending Scottish Physician never uses two words when ten would do. He has held court on the following:
- George Washington’s teeth
- The French and Indian War
- Mussolini’s v. Hitler’s fascism
- Why flying airplanes is so difficult
- Things back in his day
Imagine it: twelve hours every day spent on two hours of real work. You can’t escape. Attendance is mandatory. “If you ask him a question, I sear to God, I will kill you.” So I don’t ask questions. I just stand there, eyes glazed over, praying for a midday TRAUMA ALERT: 30M 20FT FALL FROM TREE +LOC HEAD LAC ETOH 5MIN ETA VIA GRND.
Drunks in trees. All the time.
I like responding to traumas because I am an important member of the Trauma Team. I am make-sure-they’re-naked guy. I stand poised, trauma scissors in the air with blades just slightly opened, waiting to cut away your dignity. You’re a trauma, you’re getting naked. No negotiation.
“Are you cutting my dress?”
“Yes, ma’am. We have to check you for injuries.”
“But I just fainted!”
“Yes, ma’am. But you fainted in a car. That makes you a ‘trauma’. Please stop moving your head; you may have a broken neck.”
Because it is hard to schedule traumas, there was little time in the operating room and the majority of this service felt like ER with knives. Fun, but glad when it ended. After three weeks, I moved on to the Colorectal surgery service.
You would never guess it, but poop surgery is great. The incisions are huge and the anatomy is straightforward, so it’s easy to play along. You take people that are absolutely miserable with constant nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, fevers, etc who can’t remember what it feels like to enjoy a meal. You cut out their colon: cured. Thanks to preoperative bowel preparation, there is actually very little stool (or succus) during surgery, which is fortunate when you’re a 250lb ex-football player turned Head Poop Surgeon (HPS) that vomits at the sight of it. During an operation where the small bowel was being cut in two, some green stool began to leak from the lumen.
“Oh my God, I’m gonna throw up. IMGONNATHROWUP! Brian, get it away! GETITAWAY!” HPS stutters back from the table, dry-heaving.
Brian wipes away the small amount of stool with a lap pad as those not twisted in hysterics stare on in horror at HPS’s reaction.
“I hate that. Oh, I hate that. Okay, let’s finish.”
Poop surgeons don’t like to be called “poop surgeons,” by the way. It’s no use explaining to them how funny it is. They just don’t get it.
Much has been made of “pimping”, the art of harassing medical students with questions in order to expose their ignorance. This is often described as being malignant. This has not been my experience. If anything, I have wished aloud to be asked more questions in order to better learn what is and is not important and to have a chance to show that I am studying in my spare time. Barely touched on Trauma, Colorectal gave it a good try. With mixed results. Here is a smattering:
“Christian, what is the social muscle? ”
“The tongue, sir?”
“No. It’s the anal sphincter. If it doesn’t work, you have no social life and no home. Watch a bunch of monkeys. They hang out together, all poop, and then they have to move. That’s why monkeys don’t have houses.”
“Christian, what are the indications for surgery?”
“Hemodynamic instability.”
“That’s a trauma answer. This man is having his colon removed, so that’s a pretty stupid answer for this man, isn’t it.”
“Sorry, sir. Any condition that has been refractory to medical management for which a surgical solution exists that is not otherwise contraindicated.” To myself: booyah.
(Pause). “Wrong. Um, what’s the most important thing to remember when irrigating the abdomen?”
“To suck the fluid back out, sir?”
“Um. Wrong. It’s to not use too much. Okay smart guy, what’s that?”
“The uterus, sir.”
“Good.”
“Christian, why did Brian call you ‘topher’?”
“It’s my nickname. It’s short for ‘Christopher’.”
“So you’re name isn’t ‘Christian’?”
“No, sir.”
Brian: “We told him we’d kill him if he ever corrected you.”
“Oh. Good.”
Playing the role of the good surgical student slowly earns you privileges in the OR. I have the privilege of cutting sutures with the scissors. I have the privilege of holding and pulling things. At the end of the case, I have the privilege of using staples to close the skin or use sutures to close a small hole. Execute each of these without error, and you are praised. As much as I gripe about being compared favorably to a seven-year-old with appropriate motor skills, the simple “nice job” can make your day. I was graduated to eight-year-old after being offered the scalpel to make the first incision for a case. This was no nick, but instead went from his sternum to his pubis. When HPS made it clear that I was going to make the cut and the he was not joking, the surgical masks in the room nearly popped off from the slacked jaws.
My post-op juice box never tasted so sweet.
All for now, topher.
P.S.
Trauma Lesson: Car + anything = trauma = naked = rectal exam.
Colorectal Lesson: Poop kills.
This is an outlet problem. I’m nervous for something. It’s either too big, too important, or too scary to handle myself. But coming anyway. It was college, when I wrote a journal every day for two years without fail. Then I stopped. It was medical school, when I started RWT. I stopped two years ago. Now, it’s the next biggest thing that happens in your life. Before the next thing.
And I’m talking to myself.
I went to tell you, someone, anyone about it. In a few days, I will be engaged.
But right now, I’m wearing an ugly sweater. She wore it a few nights ago. Tonight, I want to write two of the most outrageous stories form my trip through Asia. I want to write about my time in South Africa and the month I spent in Ecuador. But what I’m really thinking about is these backward buttons.
I hope every guy learns it eventually*, but the buttons on female clothing are opposite to ours. In the past, men were dressed by maids. Male clothing has buttons were women are used to them – on the left. Thinking back on times where I’ve needed her to fix a cuff for me, I think about how this intimate and nice thing is because of her practiced fingers.
She’s left for the coast two days ahead and we’ll see each other tomorrow. It’s hard to focus. It’s hard to think that the holiday cookies I’m eating or the champagne I’m drinking is anything but a way to blunt something else. Looking for a way to focus on what I have to write tonight, it’s becoming easier to understand that this too-tight and oh-so-perfectly ugly christmas sweater is more than a writing tool. It is what I need to understand about myself at this moment.
Erik Erikson is about the only thing I liked about Pediatrics. He had this theory about the stages of development through which everyone must pass. If I’m figuring out something tonight, I hope it’s everything. I’ve been looking for the first two teeth to click correctly, finally, so that this whole thing zips together and closed. I’m looking back at my life and seeing how it falls into what he described.
Looking back at the stages, I remember them. I wrote through them. And it’s finally making sense to me why my writing has come and gone so many times even when I wished it stayed. It makes sense to me why I thought I was going to be a psychiatrist. It makes sense to me why I’m writing now.
I need to work through this. When I came to the Caribbean I had my last and perfect opportunity to define myself. And now that I have, I’m ready for the next thing. But I have to work through it still.
Thank you for being patient, for thinking I’d write again, for caring that I disappeared, and for reading at all.
Cheers, topher.
*I first discovered this at a Goodwill. I was looking for cheap pants for the new school year. I found this pair of beige corduroy pants that fit perfectly. I didn’t recognize the manufacturer nor did I know what “size 8” meant, but I wore the hell out of them just the same.
“It is human to have a long childhood; it is civilized to have an even longer childhood. Long childhood makes a technical and mental virtuoso out of man, but it also leaves a life-long residue of emotional immaturity in him.”
— Erik Homburger Erikson (1902-1994)
]]>Grenada is in my thoughts again. Since leaving it as a transfer to Drexel, I have had an amazing time as a 3rd and 4th year student, dabbled in the world of pick-up artists, applied for and failed to match into a Plastic Surgery residency, traveled to Ecuador for a month to learn Spanish, traveled to South Africa for shits and giggles, filed a patent on a medical device to help hospital workers wash their hands more often, worked on a few more books and projects with the folks over at First Aid, become a research physician at a prestigious institution, met my future wife, and I have manage to put a ring on her finger.
In April, I’m headed back to Grenada as a Visiting Professor of Anatomy and I am excited to see what they’ve done with the place.
In my absence, transferring and quitting have been the most popular topics on this blog. I am really happy that people have found a place to discuss both. I am disappointed in myself for not finishing the “transferring” section of this blog and giving it the attention that it deserves. At one time, I thought I might finally write a book about it. But for now, I am building a new site for that topic which will do the issue justice.
Still here. Still thinking of things to write about.
Cheers, topher.
]]>I have successfully completed the final two years of medical school. Most people view the two clinical years as the most interesting years of medical school. I think I agree with that.
I have gone through the process of applying for a competitive specialty. I have gone through the match. I have landed a job. And I have thinkings about all of it which I’d love to share.
I probably will.
For those of you that still check back to this space, that still wonder “what the hell happened?!”, this is for you. What do you want to know?
Whatever you suggest, I will address. Be my impetus.
I can’t wait to start – topher.
]]>***
I don’t have a handle on what’s happened here, though it’s completely under my control. The Rumors Were True began as a manifestation of envy. I’ve told this story before, but I used to write just to make my friends and family laugh. With some practice, I got to the point where I had a reputation for pulling it off. And as it has happened so many times when I find myself becoming successful with something originally challenging, I bore of it and stop. So it was with writing for a laugh.
I needed a new challenge.
Two years ago, I found PURRTY GUD and I was blown away by his writing. I thought, “here’s a guy that is just better than me. Usually with some work, I can match people at things like this but not him and not now. He’s just better.” I knew I was forever less, so it was a perfect place to begin. And fueled by my feeling that I would never measure up and my jealousy for this talent, I began RWT.
In the beginning, it was very stupid. It was very distant. I’m not sure that someone who started reading at that point would have ever gotten a picture of who I was, other than somewhat snarky and in love with my own diction (you can laugh at that). But slowly I started to write things that were a little more naked and personal, and it was from these things that I received the strongest responses. Soon, the goal of every week was to write something good enough to be included in Grand Rounds and I chased that for months.
At this point, I wanted to be famous. I fell into the trap of obsessing over my statistics. How many people read my last story? Where were they from? How long did they stay? Who thinks my story is good enough that they’re telling people to read it? And so on. Finally, I reached a point where 100 people were coming to read every day and I was very proud. I wrote to a friend of mine, “In one year, 1000 people will come to read me every day.” This is what passed for my goals.
Beginning in August of 2006, I was intoxicated with medical school and the Welcome to Grenada project. I was writing about my love of Anatomy, my research, my introduction to clinical medicine on the islands, and about the islands themselves. Writing the WTG guide began to take over the RWT, and I split it into its own blog with its own management, but already the character of my writing was changing again.
I began writing about what I was thinking. I began reacting to things instead of planning every word. I started writing about Flash Raves, MicroCredit, and I struck a chord with my reaction, “A Lazy Attack on Atheism.” What I wrote was becoming less and less about medicine and more and more about me. It was because I was becoming more comfortable with the thought that strangers could know my secrets and that would be “okay”. It was also because I was running out of ideas, grasping at straws. I thought often about ending RWT.
I tried to suck some water from the well by writing Pancakes Every Morning. I hosted Grand Rounds because I was hungry for some new kind of challenge. Immediately after, I gave everything I had left to The Old Man, which I consider to be the best thing that I have ever written and the only thing I ever did outside of my comfort zone. And after that, I felt done.
I twitted away the next month writing pieces I didn’t care about. I started researching the business and law behind the practice of medicine because it was interesting and I was ignorant. But I was empty. I had nothing left worth writing and I had stopped finding joy in it.
RWT should have died long ago save for the USMLE. I found in writing about that experience a steady supply of “new” and a comfort zone of writing guides for others. Telling someone what to do is an easier thing than writing to evoke a feeling. I was jumping over the lower bar.
And then I found a reason to write again.
I became so engulfed in the material while preparing that I began to see deeper into it than I had before, and I was able to spot conflicts and connections as easily as you would spot marinara on a pressed white shirt. It became clear to me. I discovered this while using the First Aid for the USMLE book, and when I went to find a website that listed its errors, I found not a single one.
And I complained about there not being a source. I have written before about my own guiding principle: The Categorical Imperative. In this case (as in all cases), complaining required action: since I wished someone had already made a list of errors, I could not complain about it unless I was willing to make the thing that I felt was missing. This became my reason for writing: to compile a perfect and complete list of errors. To scour the book as few others had ever done and, in doing so, to know more about everything.
Before I knew it, RWT was no longer a place for my writing: it was a one-stop-shop for USMLE adivce, textbook corrections, and so on. This was more interesting to more people than my stories ever were and I quickly reached an average of 1000 visitors a day. The success was discouraging, and insomuch as my statistics were a progress report, I felt that connection had been completely lost.
And as it has happened so many times when I find myself becoming successful with something originally challenging, I bore of it and stop. So it was with writing about medicine.
Perhaps I set the bar too low or that I chose the wrong metric for success. Whatever the case, it couldn’t have happened at a worse time as I left for Asia and from writing for the next six weeks. Long distance for any weak relationship delivers the final blow. I felt done with writing. In the weeks after returning, my only reason for coming back here was to update and maintain the USMLE portion of this site. Whatever drove me before was gone.
And now as I begin the second half of my medical school career, I find I need something from this space, from whomever has stuck around this long to see if I have anything left to say, that I cannot get. RWT feels ruined by its success. From the First Aid Errors project, I earned the attention and interest of the First Aid Team. Shortly, I will begin working for them. This is fantastic news that I have not been able to share with you until now.
At the same time, I am applying for transfer to US medical schools, and the successes of the Welcome to Grenada Guide and the FA Errors have become selling points on my application. This has made RWT public (as it always was) and has stripped me of any illusions of anonymity. I have never been as diligent about keeping myself anonymous as I could or should have been, but its loss has never been so obvious to me as it is now. At a time where I need this space to be a place for me to be my most honest, where I need the catharisis of venting and a chance to share my frustrations with feeling uncertain about my future and my fears that medicine has facets of it that I feel strongly against, RWT has begun to feel as much a liability as an asset.
I feel watched. I feel known in an uncomfortable way. I feel twisted into self-censure.
I cannot write the way that I need to on RWT anymore. It no longer feels like my journal and a safe for my memories. Now, it feels like a bulletin board of updates and other stale things. I could continue to write here about happy things, about funny things, about critiquing things but I cannot write about sad things, frustrating things, about hating things. I am not Ying or Yang, but the pair, and I worry that this simple thing that is true about all of us could hurt me to show it. I worry about a dishonest portrayal of what life is like.
And now I think it is time for RWT to end. Not deleted (because people still find use in it), or forgotten (it remains the safe for everything that happened to me early on in this new life) or regretted (I learned so much about myself while writing it).
It will end because I was sloppy and couldn’t keep it from mixing with the reasons not to write.
***
Why do you write?
I write to think.
I write to remember.
I write to help others.
I write to stretch and twist and understand new ways of seeing the world.
I write to help people understand me, if for no other reason than to feel understood. To connect.
I write to make you a part of my life so that mine feels larger.
I write for vanity.
I write for the freedom of anonymity.
I write because I need to feel whole and this gets me there.
***
I look back to PURRTY GUD now and I better understand him. He was anonymous to the world as he wrote but his family and friends were all reading. He wrote about it ruining things, about feeling like it was bringing more harm to him than good. When he graduated, he decided to end the blog and start a new one for his residency. It was then that he revealed his name. It wasn’t a few weeks before it completely disappeared. He gave out his email address for those that wanted to know if he was ever writing again and if they could follow him to this new anonymous place.
He hasn’t. I think I get it now.
]]>As far as the cube goes, I bought one in November of 2007 and went to Lars Petraus’ website.
- Step 1 – Build a 2x2x2 corner
- Step 2 – Expand to 2x2x3
- Step 3 – Twist the edges (I use one algorithm from this)
- Step 4 – Finish 2 layers (I use one algorithm from this)
- Step 5 – Position the corners (I use one algorithm from this)
- Step 6 – Twist the corners (I use three algorithms from this)
- Step 7 – Position the edges (I use one algorithm from this)
It took my about two days to figure out my first solve (basically following the website move for move). It was another week before I could solve it without looking at my cheat sheet of written algorithms. Another week before I was sub-5 minutes. A week later it was 3 minutes. I spent about a month hovering around 90 seconds and have been stuck at 45-60 seconds for the past three months without any real improvement.
I have no plans to solve it blindfolded, but appreciate all the people that tell me they won’t be impressed until that happens. You people suck.
Don’t let the books swallow you, topher.
]]>
You plant them, water them, love and dote on them. They are nurtured and they sweeten in the sun. And then, when they cannot grow this way any more, you pluck the best.
You take these grapes, throw them into a barrel, and ignore them. You don’t give them sun, activity, or anything familiar. It’s quite a shock to the grapes. You do this for years. And years.
Out pops wine.
Pretty inefficient, but I don’t know how I would fix it. I don’t know that trying to speed it up won’t make for something unpalatable. I guess I just have to deal with the ignoring and waiting until those grapes magically turn themselves into something more.
Pretty much what the third year of medical school has felt like. I haven’t written about it.
Before, my shtick was looking around and sort of cataloging all the interesting things that were happening around me. Not a lot of introspection going on. Nothing to write about inside the barrel that is my hospital. Or there is, but that’s not the story.
The story is the fermenting. My classmates and I are taking on new flavors and textures. A few might be prematurely alcoholic. Others have lost their sweetness. Most rougher for the wear and rarely anyone smoother.
And it is incredible.
I put up a hell of a fight. A nine month spectacle of twisting, thrashing and spitting. On March 5th, 2008, I broke. Emotionally. Mentally. Broke. It was awful. I haven’t written about it because I’m unsure on these new, wobbly legs.
But for the first time I know what language is supposed to do. I know how people reward their physicians. I understand patience. I have experienced the risks and rewards of vulnerability. What is and is not important has been impossibly rearranged in my head. When I look at the decisions I am making now, I don’t recognize them as coming from my past. All of it seems to come from very different stuff.
But then you never could have told me, after I rolled one around in my mouth, that grapes could give way to wine.
]]>
A little over a year ago, I was behind in my work and trying to catch up. Procrastinating, I wrote a short blurb about how going to medical school is like having to eat a stack of pancakes every morning. Some people thought it was funny. About 10 months later, a good friend of mine at Saint Louis University Medical School called me up to ask if he could use the concept for a 72-hour film competition. Of course, I said yes.
So he and his friends expanded it, added new portions, and really transformed it into something better than it was before. They pulled off the 7-minute feat in 72 hours, submitted it, and then on the night of the festival came home with FIRST PLACE!
Finally, it’s up on YouTube. Merry Christmas, everyone!
Med School Metaphor: Pancakes Every Morning (orginal story)
Pancakes Every Day (prize-winning short film)
]]>
There are a lot of things you should do for your interview, and Iserson’s Getting into a Residency covers all of them. I bought this book a month before I anticipated any interviews and read it cover to cover in the first two days. I was left dumbstruck by this book. When speaking about special situations like being an FMG, his advice is that the most important thing you can do is transfer to a US medical school. That knocked me in the head. There is a chapter called “The Questions – The Answers” that lists over 300 questions that people have been asked in residency interviews, what these questions are trying to discover about the interviewee, and strategies for handling them. I sat down and typed out every single question, printed them out, and then spent the next week forming my best answers. He will teach you how to stand, how to sit, and how to pack your suitcase so that things do not wrinkle. What to wear, what never to say, and what to do before during and after the interview are all topics that are covered very well in this book. If you walk into this interview without a resource like this, you are making a mistake.Why am I recommending a book about getting into a Residency? As a transfer student, you are already in medical school and are expected to know a little more about the field, its problems, and your place in it. There is an assumption made that if you have the grades and the recommendations to transfer, then you must be a very serious and driven medical student. Serious, driven medical students know what they want and have researched how to get it. In this way, you are much like a residency applicant who knows what type of physician he wants to be, where he wants to live, and which program will help you achieve this.
After reading this book, doing the research that it outlines for each institution to which I was applying, and answering all of the questions, I was in a place where I could enter the interview confident that I had not forgotten anything and that I had prepared as well as I Possibly could have. The confidence that comes when you can stop worrying about these things is invaluable, and I highly recommend the book for this purpose.
The second book I recommend it Dale Carnegie’s How to Win Friends and Influence People. This book changed my life. The way I read people’s response to what I say, the way I understand what they are saying, and how I handle every situation has been informed and altered by this book. I can say with confidence that a great deal of the good that has happened to me in the last year has happened because of the way I handled situations after reading this book. During my interview day, I saw so many of the other students making mistakes (some of them crippling) that are outlined by Carnegie. There was also one applicant that I noticed because she was so expertly handling the same questions and situations that were killing the other applicants. After the day was over, I told her that out of the entire field, she had her best foot forward the entire time and that if anyone was going to get in based on their interview today, it would be her. She emailed me a week later with the good news that she had been offered a spot. Do yourself the favor of reading this book. There are almost 500 reviews at Amazon.com (avg 5 stars). Here is a review of the book and how it changed someone else’s life.
Students that begin in August have a good chance to apply for a second year spot at the end of their first year. Most schools begin accepting applications in February march, interview in June, and accept at the end of June/July for an August start date. Having completed only a year of medical school, you likely have had little time to explore research and develop strong relationships with the faculty that may write your recommendations. The school does not have much to use when considering you. They have your first year grades (mostly useful in comparing you to your classmates) and your MCAT scores. Know that you will be competing against people with a 4.0 and a 30+ MCAT. If you can get a hold of someone that has successfully transferred into the second year, ask them who wrote their recommendations. There is a good chance that this person has a reputation for endorsing strong students.
If you are planning on applying for a third year spot at the end of your second year, you will find this to be much harder. Most schools will want to see your USMLE Step 1 score when considering your application. Any January students from the term ahead of you will have already taken their Step 1 and have scores in hand. It will be very hard to compete against someone that already has a 99 even if you end up with a similar score. You can still apply for a third year spot at the end of your third year (which means repeating a year of clinical work). If you decide to do this, know that it will not be enough that you are “so far ahead” of the other applicants in terms of experience, the school will want to see that you have Honors in your clerkships.
Students that begin in January have more options. As a January student, I had the option of applying for a second year spot halfway through my second year. In this way, you have the opportunity to demonstrate A-level work on the second year material that you would have to repeat, you have a little more time to develop relationships with the faculty in hopes of having a strong letter of recommendation written, and you have enough time to become involved in research or other projects that might set your application apart.
You are also well positioned to apply for a third year spot at the end of your second year. Finishing in December, you will have five months off until you begin your clinical rotations. You can use this time to prepare as much as you need to for the USMLE Step 1, you have time to receive your scores and submit them by April (two months before the application deadlines), and you have plenty of time to make sure that your essays, recommendations, and transcripts are heading in the right directions. You also have an opportunity to pursue research or some other project to strengthen your application. The drawback is that you will have to begin your clinical rotations before the interviews begin. This means moving to a new area, finding a place to live, and taking time off to interview. I went through this and recommend starting your rotations instead of deferring them (if you defer, you may have some difficult questions to answer in the interview), subletting an apartment for two months instead of committing to a lease that you may have to break (and leaving any roommates in a difficult situation), and giving ample notice to your site director that you may need to take some time off for interviewing.
]]>I then sat down and called every single institution to ask about their transfer policy for non-LCME students. This is important to do if you are serious about transferring and this level of effort will separate you from your peers. You will find out before applying if a school that has always accepted transfers has recently changed its policy, has no availability this year due to an oversubscribed first year class, or has recently begun to accept transfers. There have been cases where the school said “no” over the phone, the student applied anyway and was then offered an interview. The determined student will always have an advantage over the complacent student. Decide which one you are going to be and then plan accordingly. The programs that I contacted told me that the information on this site concerning number of available spots is inaccurate, so do not let a “0 spaces available” stop you from inquiring. Plus, it builds character.
There are several schools that often have spaces available nd are well known to those that frequent the discussion boards. These school are:
4. Northeastern Ohio University College of Medicine (NEOUCOM)
5. SUNY Upstate
7. University of Medicine and Dentistry, New Jersey (UMDNJ)
In addition to this list, I was able to confirm that eight other schools would accept non-LCME applicants. I do not feel like I have given too much away with this list as it is available everywhere, but if you are willing to search for the remaining schools than you deserve to be separated from others for your effort. Do not forget to call the medical schools in the state where you have residence. Several state schools do not accept non-LCME applicants but do accept applicants that are residents of the state regardless of school affiliation.
As the information begins to pile, it is a good idea to remain organized. Open a spreadsheet with a space for the school, its application deadline, fee, email contact, phone number, application cost, number of required recommendations from undergraduate and medical faculty, required transcripts, etc. Happy hunting.
]]>Then I transferred to Drexel University College of Medicine. Why?
When I applied to SGU, I knew that I wanted to be a physician in the United States, that medicine was the only thing that I felt could fulfill me as a profession, and that no matter what obstacles I faced I was going to make this happen. I was not sure what I wanted to do in medicine and it was important to me that as many doors remain open as possible. Going to the Caribbean (you will be told) can close many doors, and you will hear people tell you that you cannot do such-and-such if you come from the Caribbean.
SGU has an earned reputation for producing strong students and their residency placement list each year boasts this, showing students in fields such as Anesthesiology, Diagnostic Rad, ER, Ophthalmology, Orthopaedics, and Urology. The list of residency placements between 1997 and 2002 impressed me particularly when I decided on SGU. That said, my understanding of the residency application process has matured to reveal things previously missed.
The first is that Foreign Medical Graduates (FMGs) are able to accept residency placements outside of the match. This can be to the advantage of FMG applicants that might be able to secure a spot now that they would not get if they waited for the match (plenty of stories of this happening). The list available through SGU does not draw a distinction between how their students’ placements were secured, so looking at the list alone does not tell you how you can expect to fare when it is your turn to open the letter on Match Day. The second thing I have come to appreciate is that while there is a bell curve for desirable fields, there are bell curves within those fields for desirable residency programs. For example, while Orthopaedic surgery is a desirable field and incredibly competitive on the whole, there are Orthopaedic residency programs that are incredibly desirable and those that are less so. If your goal is to become an Orthopaedic surgeon coming from the Caribbean, this is certainly possible. If you want to do Orthopaedics at the Mayo Clinic, this truly approaches the impossible. It is also important to keep perspective on how many students are able to place into these fields. If only three students from your school made it into the specialty that you want and your class size is somewhere near 600, you need to honestly asses where you stand in your class and if it is likely that you will be one of the three in the coming years.
The process of “auditioning” for certain programs is also at issue. SGU has many hospitals for its students in the New York and New Jersey area and you are more or less free to complete your rotations and electives at any of them. When it comes time to apply for residencies, it is sometimes a good idea to complete an “away” elective at the desired hospital. In this way, the program gets to see your stuff and give you a much better look when it comes time to invite people into their program. This process of completing “away” rotations is open for US medical students but is much more difficult for FMGs, and this is because of reciprocity. Reciprocity is the agreement that schools like Mayo will accept and train a Harvard student during an elective “away” rotation with the understanding that Mayo students can be accepted and trained at Harvard should they so choose (an example from NYMC). These agreements are often non-existent between Caribbean schools and their US counterparts. If you plan on staying in the New York/New Jersey area and completing your residency training at one of the hospitals already associated with SGU, then this is not an issue. For those looking to enter competitive programs spread across the US, this is an issue that puts you at a disadvantage.
Finally, insomuch as residency program directors and medical school administrators represent an Old Boy’s Club (I have no idea if this is true or its possible extent) where a well-placed phone call can mean your application at the top or bottom of the stack, I wanted that resource available to me. I wanted to make sure that the clinicians that were teaching me were also faculty with my university and that their professional connections could be opened up to me should I impress them. Moving from the islands to the US left me with the feeling that my mentor, advisers and teachers were largely unavailable to me and that any influence they could have offered stopped in the tropics.
It is good to be aware of these concerns, but they are not unique to anyone. As an FMG, when it comes time for you to answer the “why transfer?” question at your interview, you are not setting yourself apart by regurgitating this. This may be fine since the interviewer is looking for someone that knows why he is doing something as opposed to being just another guy that heard he should apply for transfer since he has good grades, but it does not help the interviewer remember your answer.
]]>It’s been hard to write for months. A lot of that was masked by my time in Asia, but really I didn’t want to write while I was there either. It’s strange to be surprised by yourself over something like this. I have always felt that writing was something that I had to do, but this isn’t the case.
I don’t have to write.
I’ve been thinking about everything that changed. So much of my writing before was driven. No one to have met me these last two years could help but concede that I was driven. Driven by fear of failure, by a desire to prove all the invisible people that thought I was less for being from the Caribbean that they were wrong, driven by competition with my classmates, driven to surprise everyone.
I’ve always taken a great deal of pleasure and satisfaction from RWT. The success of this space (as such a thing can be measured by the hit counter or your thoughtful comments) was always a source of pride. It’s nice to have an audience, especially when you’re convinced that you’re being ignored or dismissed. I’m not claiming that any of this was reasonable, but it was all felt just the same. But this space took a sharp turn in my mind in June and that change was really alarming. It’s part of why I’m stopping, but not the whole of it.
I saw RWT as a liability. I had never been as careful as I should have been with my anonymity, and several people have figured me out (especially those from my new Drexel class). I made it pretty easy, and this was foolish. RWT used to be a place where I pretended to be a writer. I tried to be funny, or shallow, or helpful, but recently I’ve needed this to be a space to vent and be laid bare. As I met with the hospitals in New York, I became incredibly disoriented and upset and I needed a place to scream at the top of my keys.
And then I thought of the people reading this. I thought about the admissions committees of different schools coming to this place and finding a student with light and dark sides, and I imagined them seeing this and rushing to judgment. We all, I think, would prefer to imagine each other as shiny happy shells and to show the rest is to risk the rest. As the days fell from the calendar without word from any of the schools to which I applied, I become more and more convinced that this was happening. True or imagined, the risk was real and I had previously ignored it.
I was stupid to do this.
And yes, I had the stupid argument with myself about “censorship” vs “honesty.” As regulars know, I deleted everything on this blog that was negative. Old posts, new posts, anything that could be seen as criticizing the medical establishment. I decided that transferring was more important to me than all the rest. After all of it, I was still being driven.
So my goal of transferring and keeping best faces forward (I’m a Janus, after all) meant that RWT was becoming less a journal and more a resume. Keeping something that sterile (at least for me) means writing very little worth reading. All of this worry was immediately followed with fantastic news. My worst fears were not realized; I was accepted into Drexel.
What happens to someone that gets what they want? For me, things fall apart. I don’t feel like celebrating (and didn’t when I was accepted). I was happy for the news and shared it with everyone that had been working on an ulcer with me (parents, mostly) but these things are never the way they play on television. The celebration is in the act, not the aftermath. Executing the interview successfully was a celebration. Submitting my application materials and coordinating my recommendations was a celebration. Studying for the USMLE and sitting for the exam was the celebration; the score was just the memento.
RWT has been my celebration of these last two years in the Caribbean and what I went through to get into a US medical school. I’ve gotten my wish and as a result I’m being redefined. My previous hurdles were my previous identity, and anymore I don’t feel like myself. Now I’m just a US medical student about to enter third year and there’s this huge part of me that wants to quit everything and just focus on being a great student. No more research, no more writing, no more side projects and whatnot. I want to lose myself and have a simpler life.
It won’t hold. I’ll find new challenges, find new roles and projects. Soon enough, I’ll have this new identity driven by new hurdles and I’ll want to write again. But if I start again, there’s no sense in repeating old mistakes. Choosing to continue RWT would be the first such mistake. The stakes are only going to get bigger and they drag the risk along with them.
I’ve also become complacent. Originally, I wanted to write and I’ve fallen incredibly short of this. I’ve done a good job of setting the levels academically and straining to clear them, and in this way I’ve accomplished more than I really thought I could have. But in writing, I’m so often running on autopilot. I can think of only one time where I ever challenged myself, and that was with The Old Man. I still think it’s the best thing I’ve ever written, and it kills me that it sits alone in my “creative writing” file. If I plan on chasing the dream of writing something worth reading some day, I’ve got to become unstuck from easy ruts.
Loss of anonymity, loss of drive, a sense that it’s time to start over and to break some bad habits. These are my reasons for ending this chapter in my life.
Finishing the Guide to Transferring and telling you a little bit about Asia are going to be my encores. It should be good, so stick around.
Thanks for celebrating this with me, topher.
]]>- Write about the transfer process
- Write four stories from my trip to Asia (with pictures)
- Attend orientation at Drexel University and meet my new classmates
- Explain to everyone why I am going to stop writing here at the Rumors Were True
- Pack my bags, move to Pittsburgh, and start a new life.
It’s going to be a busy week.
]]>Long version:
I took two months to study for the USMLE Step 1, a test that covers the first two years of medical school, and while in Cambodia on my 6 week tour of Southeast Asia, I found out that I scored a 240/99 (the goal I set for myself). While studying for this test, I began editing a review book (First Aid for the USMLE) just for fun and submitting my corrections and suggestions to the authors. They contacted me and asked for my CV, and now I am working for them and credited as an author on the 2008 Edition of the book. During this time, I applied for transfer to several medical schools in the US. Drexel University in Philadelphia invited me for an interview. What follows is the story of that interview and the outcome.
***
Forgive the writing style. For the last week, I’ve been reading The Remains of the Day which is narrated by a proper English butler.
Last Wednesday, Friday, this past Monday and this Wednesday, Drexel invited people to interview for positions in the 2nd and 3rd year. There are 5 spots available for 3rd year and 16 interviewees. There are 4 spots available for 2nd year and 21 interviewees. Of those interviewing for 3rd year, I know six very well. I chose to interview on the last possible day so that 1) I would be remembered best, 2) I would be compared to no one else on my interview day, and 3) to learn as much as I could from people that had gone earlier in the week. This worked out well.
With my little attache case filled with my updated resume, research papers, Welcome to Grenada guide, and a few other things I took the train from NY to Philly, slept the night at a Bed and Breakfast, and headed to the interview. There were eight other students interviewing this day (all for second year). I was the last to arrive before 9am and took the head of the table. I introduced myself to the room, memorized everyone’s name and school, and started the room talking (they were staring at each other when I showed up). I am now always aware that I am being evaluated from the moment I walk in the door and that certain things (like command of a room, ease with strangers) are things that are always on display. Having done this so many times in Asia, I was very comfortable.
My interview went well. I was interviewed by a woman with whom I had spoken once previously on the phone. I had heard from other students that they only had 30 minutes to interview and that it was hard to get their message across in that time. I was aware of this as I shook her hand and sat down.
She then stared at me for four seconds.
“I have some presents for you,” I offered, at which point I opened up my little case and pulled out my updated documents. “This is my updated CV, and I’m very excited about the newest edition. I can’t wait to tell you about it.”
“Ok, then tell me.” I then told her the story of the First Aid Errors, how the job was offered to me, and that I was now a Contractor for Dr. Tao Le to manage the online site for the books. I was glad to have this out in the open early. She then began to ask me pointed questions and the tone of the interview was serious. I got the strong impression that she wanted to flush out people that didn’t know what they were doing with their life as she asked, “Why Drexel? Why Medicine? When did you decide Medicine? What will you be doing in five years? What sort of projects will you do if you come here? Explain to me exactly how your research was conducted.” And so on.
Oh, and my favorite: Why not become a writer?
I did my best to maintain eye contact, avoid looking away, and to sit with back straight and forward from the chair towards her. I have read that this makes you appear more interested and interesting. At every opportunity, I would answer in such a way as to lead the next question and in this way I was able to talk enthusiastically about things for which I had real enthusiasm. This made it easy to smile and hold her attention in a way that drew a smile from her.
And with that, she asked if I had any questions. The night before, I had prepared six questions that sounded specific but were in fact broad and I figured this would cover me, but I ended up not using them. Instead, I asked about very practical things like, “Do Drexel students take advantage of international rotations?” I knew the answer to this, but asked anyway to bring up the fact that I understand the importance of being bilingual and have plans to do a rotation in Ecuador (with Aunt Lucy and Uncle Fred) and that I have already traveled and have stories to tell you that will kill some time and make you think that I am well-rounded and interesting.
I told her about Laos and how much I loved the people. I told her about filthy, filthy Cambodia and the Killing Fields. I told her about the motorcycle trip in Vietnam with Kelly’s heroics, our first stitches, and the pictures that I’d show her if only she’d accept me. The interview ended with her telling me that they would decide later that day (or possibly on Thursday) who would be accepted and that I would know either Thursday or Friday.
So the interview was split very much in two and while I handled myself as well as I could have in the first half, I think we both enjoyed the second half much more. After this, my day was over. I then went down to the bookstore, bought Drexel stationary, and wrote her the following letter.
Dear Mrs. XXX,
As a writer, I depend on stories. There is something extra and hidden between the lines of a good story that would be harder to see if stated simply. You can imagine a much more interesting version of “he went to medical school,” for example. As an applicant, I notice when others have higher scores and I worry that someone might not see my stories tucked between my A’s and B’s. I wanted to thank you for inviting me to interview; it was my chance to show you some of the extra and hidden parts of my life that otherwise might have been missed on paper.
For Drexel, I hope to become a great story.
Sincerely, Me.
I would have mailed it, but as I said, the decision was being made later that day. I left the envelope with her secretary and caught the train back.
***
After working on an ulcer all day Thursday, I was called at 6:00pm. Drexel offered me a spot in their 2009 class and I took it immediately. This weekend, I fly to Las Vegas to give a speech at an Anatomy Research Congress and to share the good news with my mentors there. I’ll be giving the speech, then flying back to New York to pack up my life in Brooklyn and move to Philly.
What a ride.
Thank you, everyone, for taking an interest in my stories over the past two years. The encouragement to continue writing is what opened up so many of
the doors that I ended up walking through in medical school. I never could have guessed that they would have taken me here, and I wanted to celebrate this awesome thing with all of you.
Thank you so much,
Topher.
Drexel University Class of 2009.
Miscellaneous
- P.92, Collagen synthesis and structure
- In both Lipp Biochem (p47) and High Yield Histo (ch 5- p 45)say that both hydroxylation and glycosylation occur in the RER as does formation of the of procollagen (triple helix) from pro-alpha-collagen. In First Aid it says Glycosylation and procollagen formation occurs in the Golgi.
- P. 109, Lipoproteins
- diagram of chylomicrons. Shouldn’t have Apoprotein A–A is found only on HDL particles.
- On second reading, perhaps CM do contain Apo A, but HDL seems to be the main location of Apo A.
- P.139, Stains
- PCP appears also on page 139, and should be changed to P. jiroveci
- P.155, Microbiology – Virology
- +ss RNA virus mnemonic
i. Flava-flav is having a Retro Toga-Corona party in Pico Cali
1. Flavivirus
2. Retrovirus
3. Togavirus
4. Coronavirus
5. Picarnovirus (no envelope)
6. Calcivirus (no envelope)
- P.158, Viral Vaccines
- MMR, with the R [Rubella] being in bold type, is indicated as being an egg based vaccine. However, measles and mumps are the egg based vaccines, while Rubella is from lung fibroblasts
- P.171, Protein synthesis inhibitors
- I changed the 50S mnemonic to: chloramphenicol, erythromycin, lincomycin/clindamycin, Linezolid. I did this because as you noted, lincomycin/clindamycin are in the same class, and they don’t mention linezolid, which is important as a 50S inhibitor used to treat MRSA.
- P.201, Tumor nomenclature
- Benign: mature teratoma (women)
- Malignant: immature teratoma (women), mature teratoma (men)
- P.250, Cardiovascular therapy
- positive inotropes raise cardiac ouput (the + sign and the down arrow are confusing)
- P.303, Basophil
- in TAIL the I is not “Iron deficiency” but is “Iron Overload”
- P.333
- It should mention that PAN is NOT associated with granulomas like Wegeners; also that PAN lesions favor branching points of arteries; Lastly, the last line under Churg-Strauss syndrome stating “often seen in atopic patients” should be followed by commonly has new onset or worsening of asthma preceding symptoms of vasculitis.
- P.372, Neuromuscular blocking drugs
- Everything I have read says there is no pharmalogical antidote to succinylcholine (especially not an acetylcholinase inhibitor like neostigmine, which is what is written under phase II of the depolarizing NMJ blocker succinylcholine).
- P.426, Lung relations
- The figure of the trachea and bronchi is confusing. The right lung bronchus is shorter, wider and more upright when compared to the left main bronchus. The figure has this relationship reversed. See Gray’s Anatomy.
Still thinking of being a people doctor? have you switched at all more toward research?
The question has been on my mind a lot, and I guess it had built up enough pressure. My response was disproportionate.
Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit, and tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes, I will be brief:It’s funny. I’m applying to transfer into a US medical school pretty soon which means a handful of personal statements. And for all the writing that I’ve done, I still have no idea how to do it correctly. I’ve tried to get to a point in my life where I understand who I am and why I do the things that I do, but I’m just not there yet. Which is fine, it just makes it hard to convince someone else that you’ve got the reigns in your hand, so to speak. It’s always ugly, but whenever you can’t prove or demonstrate something positively, there’s always the reductio ad absurdum. As far as I go, it’s the best I can do.
As it stands, I’m still curious about damn near everything. I have a folder called “million dollar ideas,” one called “essays” and one called “research.” I see problems everywhere and I love obsessing over solutions, and all of these interests pull me deeper into medicine. It’s just so deep and so wide, there’s enough room for anyone to lose themselves or find themselves. That’s why I’m here, I guess.
I’ve always joked with people when they ask me, “So why do you want to be a doctor?” My typical answer is that I’d be too bored with anything else, and that’s a half truth. I only see the rest when I work backwards:
I’d love to be a surgeon, but the malpractice risk and insurance along with dropping pay are off-putting, so I guess I want to be paid well according to my skill and don’t want to enter a field where that may not happen. I’d love to be a pathologist with all the time to write, do research, dissect. But I’d miss the patients. I’m reluctant to admit it, but I would miss the satisfaction that comes from someone you’ve treated thanking you with their eyes. Internal medicine is appealing for the challenge of trying to know everything about everything, but the patient exposure is above what I’d like and the pay seems off the worth. I guess I want to see people, but not all the time. I want to write, I want to teach, I want to cut, I want to cure, I want to be paid what I’m worth and I want time to enjoy the fruits and to share it with a family. I have two years left to figure out if anything fits those criteria, but from here things still look pretty messy.
I still don’t know what I’ll end up doing, but I hold fast to the belief that something fits. I want to transfer because I feel like I’m running out of time to make that decision cleanly. More exposure, more people, more resources and all of it right now would go a long ways to convincing me that I’d seen the field, taken stock, and decided on my future. If it turns out that there’s some unanswered question that I think I can tackle and is worth my life’s efforts, then I want to be exposed to it. I worry, a lot, that I’ll miss that opportunity if I stay with my current school.
The facilities, the people, and the open doors of a US medical school would be an embarrassment of riches for me at this point. In the time that I’ve studied with less, I feel like I’ve used everything available so that now, finally, I know how valuable those opportunities are and I’m ready to make the most of them. I’m praying for the chance.
Until that happens, I won’t know if it’s people or research.
]]>When it comes, will it come without warning?
Just as I’m picking my nose?
Will it knock on my door in the morning?
Or step in the bus on my toes?
Will it comes like a change in the weather?
Will its greeting be courteous or rough?
Will it alter my life altogether?
Or tell me the truth about love?
I still don’t know what “it” is. Any thoughts?
]]>Hello,I wanted to thank you for that information regarding studying for the BEAST!. It is well informed and I loved the reasons behind your study schedule. I am going to start my first term at SGU this coming august. With your experience the past two years is there any advice that you can give me. Does using first aid while studying for exams help to prepare for USMLE. Is it too early to even use it as a reference. Also doing well in the classes help drastically on your performance in the exam. Did you find that having done well made you recall alot of things that you found on the exam or is the details very nitty that it isn’t and needs to be refreshed within the 6 weeks. Wanted to know if it would be a wast of time to use the First aid as a supplement and note margin for my regular classes to be familiar when it comes time too kick but those 6 weeks. Again, thank you for the information.
Knight
Hey Knight.As far as advice goes about starting early, I have only this: I couldn’t do it. It takes a certain amount of pressure and dread to study effectively for the USMLE, and that’s not just going to be absent, it’s going to be appropriately focused on your other courses. I’m sure you could annotate the FA during these classes, but you’ll soon find that the breadth and depth of your SGU classes will simply dwarf what’s in the FA. The best advice I could give is to work as hard as you can for as long as you can in your classes. While the game of getting A’s isn’t all there is to your education (and you will feel at times that you are learning stupid things to do it), I can think of no better long-term preparation for the USMLE. Those members of my class that have scored the highest were all very strong students from front to end in Grenada and not for being especially intelligent, but instead for their consistent hard work.
The extra mile here is tutoring. I tutored Anatomy, Biochemistry, Neuro and Physio. In this way, I had a full year’s exposure to each topic instead of the four month term. This was invaluable. What many people found while studying for the USMLE, I discovered in tutoring: it’s only the second time around that all the connections fall into place and the interrelationships become intuitive. I was a much stronger student for it.
In a nutshell: don’t buy a First Aid until it’s time (around 5th term, I’d say), do your absolute best in every class, regardless of how innane the material, and tutor with a friend for every class that you can. That, if done, should fetch you a fantastic score.
All the best, topher.
]]>Hey Toph!
I hear you are having an amazing time on your trip, it is probably coming to an end pretty soon so enjoy the last days! It’s coming close to board studying and Jess and I were wondering how you and Kelly actually studied together. Jess and I are using the same schedule and plan to get together every 3 days or so, and we were thinking about asking questions, buzz words, that kind of thing. We just wanted to see how you boys did it.Talk to you soon, hope all is well.
We sat across from each other; nothing else. We were on the same schedule, so each day we would open up our books and start reviewing on our own. Any time I had a question about something, I would ask Kelly and vice versa. If either of us found something interesting, we’d share it. If either of us thought of an interesting question to ask the other, we would. It also helped that we were hunting for errors, and this made the work slow but deep as we covered everything in full (since I tried to verify every fact in the FA).At lunch or dinner, one of us might ask the other, “Okay, please explain ovulation to me.” This was always great exercise. At night we would eat with his family and then go our separate ways: me to the basement, him to the study. Throughout the entire process, we were writing our own review notes and inserting them into the FA for quick review in the last week and this has also always been great exercise. Every three days or so we would finish a topic and then go through all of the UW questions on our own. We would mark the interesting ones and include them in our notes. Sometimes we would ask each other how-in the hell-did you answer that one correctly? In this way, we learned the way that each other thought. Kelly goes by instinct; I go by Random Access Memory.But most of all, we did everything that we had always done. Kelly and I had been studying together for two years already and we both did well in school. There was no reason to think that it would be any different and it wasn’t. I was up till 1am or 2am each night and we were both up and at the library by 8:30am, so they were long days. But they were fun days, because you get to see every puzzle piece again only this time (after two years) you know what the fucking picture on the box is supposed to be. It’s amazing how much everything starts sliding into place.
You’ll do fine, just stay on schedule. Never break schedule. Worship the schedule. Hope it helps, toph.
P.S. Kelly never broke the schedule while I broke it all the time. I once spent an entire day on antiarrhythmial drugs, which you just shouldn’t do. I put off viruses, protazoa and fungi, cranial neoplasms, and a host of other topics due to time. Looking at my USMLE summary, these were where I lost all my points.
]]>One great thing that happened while I was gone was the posting of a preliminary errata list by the First Aid folks. After looking through the pdf, I’m thrilled to say that we have been thorough: fourty-three of the the fifty official errors were already listed here. Whether or not we were responsible for submitting them first is unclear, but at least we’re catching them. Five of the errors were added from readers of this site (thanks guys).
I’m going to spend the next few days going through what everyone has submitted and then updating each section, as well as the word documents. I don’t anticipate there being another major update before the July 15th deadline.
For those students asking about my transfer status, the schools to which I applied, etc.. I do not plan on addressing those topics until mid-June. Sorry to put it off. The remainder of this week will include a few stories from Asia and a few miscellaneous thoughts about the USMLE before I put it behind me.
It’s good to be back.
]]>Dr. Le of the First Aid team just sent me an email, and the team now has their own blog for updates. Still no forum for responding, but I’m sure that will come soon enough. Thanks everyone for the suggestions and please keep them coming. I have read them all, but (as described above) I cannot respond to them now. Look for more come mid-May.
]]>I’m in Cambodia right now and I just received my USMLE score after 3 weeks.
240/99
WOO HOO!
]]>Once in a while, I read something that reminds me of what I’ve forgotten. Ava Dear is two posts in, cataloging a journey beginning at the first decision to leave an old life for medicine. If the rest of the writing is this good, then we are all in for a treat. Of Nodes and C Underscore.
Decisions can be the once only, nip-it-in-the-bud kind of easy when you already know the why. And I’ve known the why about medicine even before the thought crossed my mind to become a physician.
What I do has gotta be consequential.
It’s gotta matter, writ large, even when it doesn’t feel like it does.
I’ve found the “so what” factor to be so pronounced, so severely a part of business that I can’t go on with that life, no matter the money.
Then there is the feeling when you read someone that is making the same arguments that you are making to the same audience, but he’s just doing it better then you ever did. This is my experience reading Medical Economics by MiamiMed.
Let’s think for a second about the majority of the new “rights” that the United Nations and many individual countries have attempted to confer upon all of humanity. These include things like healthcare and a “living wage.” These things violate the negative rights of others. Because healthcare doesn’t exist naturally, it must be created. To confer healthcare as a positive right, it must be confiscated.
I thought he had dropped off the face of the earth, but the Mexico Medical Student is back and blogging with the best post from last week’s Grand Rounds. 5/4 is so well put together, it makes me feel lazy.
More great ranting by the PandaBear MD.
- What Exactly is Wrong With “Patient Care?” You use the phrase like it were some kind of swear word but isn’t this our purpose as residents?
- What, exactly, is wrong with the current system of residency training and how would things work in the Pandaverse?
- B-b-but Panda, you can’t possibly train a doctor without working him 80 or more hours a week as a resident. Are you saying that we need to extend residency training?
I may be lucky enough to interview for transfer come June and July. This article sums up nicely the mistakes that I routinely make should avoid.
Another great post from Signout. Need to be seen.
It took me only a few minutes to realize that answering May’s question was the least of my concerns: although Rosie had significant delays with stereotypic movements, her mother had deep cognitive deficits of her own that prevented her from understanding the depths of her daughter’s limitations. Although she had only slightly more comprehension than Rosie, it was enough to allow her to express one of her major concerns: “I don’t want her to grow up to be like me.”
A Farrago of Gallimaufries just returned from Spain with pictures and humor. I noticed a bit ago that the number of amateur photographers in medical school seems higher than in other groups. I hope to join the ranks of Farrago and Graham Azon on my current trip.
]]>Gibraltar is absolutely the most beautiful place I have ever been to. I am going to live there one day. Or at least own a home there. Or at least visit again. Or think about visiting. One of those.
I have cobbled together the best of my advice into a 6-week guide for the Boards. Expand or contract according to your whim.
I’m off to Asia, so I will be slow to respond to comments, suggestions and the like. I will read them all eventually, so please keep them coming. Thank you, everyone, for contributing. Everything here is better for it.
And with that, I am off!
]]>A word on this guide:
I just finished my second year at St. George’s University School of Medicine. Figuring out what you are going to do for the Boards is a pain in the ass and gets people nervous that they do not have a plan. Many of them sign on to Kaplan or Falcon for this reason. I would like to prevent as many people as possible from signing up for those courses for those reasons, as they are expensive and you are poor. I want you to have a plan, an idea of what to expect, and all of that free. I hope this helps.
A word on advice:
I am wary of most advice. It is often unqualified, and by this I mean that I do not know why I should believe in your expertise. Did you score well and are you willing to tell me the score behind this advice? Are you like me in that we learn, memorize, and study alike? What works for Peter may fail for Paul and it is good to keep this in the back of your mind as everyone begins to tell you what you should and should not do. The other problem that I have with a lot of advice is that I am not told the reason behind the conclusion. It is easy to say, “Just do questions”, but it is much harder to give a well thought out argument to support your advice. There may be an excellent reason, but many people do not think to ask for it or to give it. Also, it takes a fair bit of time.
If someone says that there is a lot of Embryo on the test, please kick him in the face. That sort of advice (even if it ends up being true) is worthless for planning. The most frustrating part of this whole experience is that n=1 and it is hard to draw conclusions from a sample size that small. You will wonder if you did it correctly, how you would have scored if you changed blah blah, and so on. That leads us to why I am writing this:
Medical school is great because it is the end of decisions. Decide to go to medical school. Three and a half years later: decide what kind of doctor to be. Three to five years later: decide which job to take. That is three decisions over ten years and medicine is great that way. I was so tired of making decision about how to study that I wished someone had done it all for me. This guide is meant to be a turn-off-your-brain and do-as-I-say outline so that you can save yourself from all of that. It is the guide that I wish someone had made for me.
A word on irony:
I am aware of the irony that I am writing a little guide filled with advice while not offering my score, telling you about myself, etc. What I can give is my reasons for each decision so that even if you do not end up following it, you at least see the problem of planning and studying as manageable. If you are interested, when I get my score I will post it and at that point, you can decide to continue using this guide or decide to forget everything written here. Deal? Now on with the show…
THE SCHEDULE
I am assuming that you are taking six weeks to study for this test. If it is shorter or longer, I have structured this so that it is easy to change according to your unique schedule. This schedule is built using the newest edition of the First Aid for the USMLE Step 1 (Systems based) as I think it is the best game in town and damn near everyone seems to own it. We need a calendar, and we need to divide it into two main sections: cramming and pre-cramming.
CRAMMING
Cramming is undervalued. I took an incredibly long time to prepare (9 weeks) so that I would not have to cram because (cue lame music) I wanted to really understand the material. Fair enough, but the last two weeks are for cramming. You can realistically cover two topics each day. Anything more and you are skimming. I have good reasons for each of these choices, but first you should just take a look at what we will call “the cramming”.
The day before the test, you will be tired of studying (more so). This is when you are most vulnerable to total mental collapse. A friend described it to me: “I opened up Micro to look over viruses once more before the test and I realized that I had forgotten how to read. It was as if my head had exploded onto the table and I could not pick it back up again. I postponed the test a week after that.” To avoid this, I advocate taking a half-day and seeing a movie. It was one of the few things that I did that worked.
Before you start this final sprint, take a day off. You have earned it. I think you should begin with Biochemistry because the meat of this subject is in the underpinnings of other diseases. A good look in the beginning will help you interpret things later on and will reinforce the pathways that actually matter. By putting this first, you effectively study it all week. It is a big topic, so it gets two days. Molecular genetics and Immuno cover some similar ground (signaling) and this is a nice lead in to Micro. I will make the same argument about Micro, that putting it this early means that you study it with every system to come, reinforcing the pathogens. It is big, so also earns two days.
Cardio and Heme/Onc are thrown together because of the pathology. For similar reasons, I have placed them next to Musculoskeletal. As you will find, the vasculitides are covered in Musculo, not in Cardio or Heme/Onc, so these three topics are overlapping in the First Aid which is why I have grouped them. Cardio, Heme/Onc, Gastro, and Musculo are also grouped because chances are that one of these topics is a strength for you, so going through that subject quickly allows a weakness in the others to expand into that day.
Neurology and Psychiatry are next to each other for the association. Neuro, unfortunately, is just too big to group with a second large topic, so this is as good a place as any to split up Behavioral with Psych (they pair naturally) and Biostats with Neuro. Renal and Respiratory are not as big as the other sections and this should make for a somewhat easier day. These are grouped together in hopes that you finally sit down and learn Acid/Base compensation. After two years, it is time.
Embryology is tricky. Most of it belongs with Reproduction and Endocrine while the rest is spread out among all the systems. The best advice I have is that you study the Embryology for each system in the morning before getting into the thick of each subject and save the Repro/Endocrine stuff for the end. That it is a hodgepodge also makes it a natural move to group it with Basic Pharmacology and Basic Pathology. These sections are short and represent a little bit of everything. If you give it a good read, it can pull topics from earlier in the week together and is not too stressful to be studying up to test day.
And with that, use the last day before the test to print out your permit, print out the directions to your testing center, and look over some topics that you had to skip. Try to force yourself to stop studying by midday and do something non-medical that night like watching a new movie with a friend. The night before my test I caught 300, and it was great to think about something other than pathways for at least those two hours.
PRE-CRAMMING
That was cramming. Now, onto pre-cramming. Since we have six weeks and I just stole the last two weeks for cramming, that gives us exactly 30 days to prepare. Remember that you are not preparing for the test during this period; you are preparing for “the cramming”. If you do not cover everything in a section in the time allotted, it will not be the end of the world. You will get another crack at it, at which point not getting to it will be the end of the world. Ready for the suck? Seriously, stay optimistic.
If you are a numbers person, we have 30 days to cover 329 pages of the First Aid, which works out nicely to 11 pages a day. This is a lazy way to weight things, but who cares? I have gone to the trouble of counting each page per section for you, and arranged the following. Here is the first two weeks.
We start out with something general and familiar: the basics. Most of the connections in this section went over my head and I did not pull them together until the end, but it is nice to have the early exposure and to ease into this whole thing before the real subjects start. This brings us to Biochemistry. It is big and intimidating for a lot of students and three days does not seem like enough, but it has to be just three days. First, we give it two full days in the last two weeks of cramming. Second, the other subjects need to be given time and are likely higher-yield.
It does not let up as Biochemistry feeds into Immunology and Microbiology. Again, three days is not enough to cover Microbiology, but the other subjects need to be covered and we give Micro two full days during cram week. Behavioral science and Biostatistics are meant to be your first break. The ground of Behavioral science will be touched again during Psych, and Biostatistics is not that big. You can either take half the day off or use the extra time on Micro. As always, make sure you are not seeing anything for the first time during “the cramming”.
Embryology is just not big enough to get its own day and should be learned in pieces with each system that follows. What is important for now is the developmental aspect. You can combine it with the first day of Endocrine (as I have done) or group it with Reproduction, does not really matter so long as you get to it. I think these three topics together makes each of them stronger, and this might be the first time you really understand the menstrual cycle.
The second two weeks begin the systems. I was taught subject-based, but for the type of thinking that makes for good test scores, the integration that comes with doing Anatomy, Physiology, Pathology, and Pharmacology together just cannot be beat. If your school taught this way then this is old hat for you, but for me it was a shock to see all the new connections.
We begin with the Cardio/Heme/Onc/Musculoskeletal combination for the reason I described earlier. Cardio looks big in the First Aid and the pharmacology of Heme/Onc can be intimidating. Just remember that “screw it, I’m just not going to know that” is a perfectly good assessment for some of the material and if you can make peace with that, you will be less stressed. It probably will not be on your test anyway. Or you fly through these sections and earn a day off.
Gastrointestinal is there because where else would you put it? Renal and Respiratory go together with their acids and bases, and this brings us to the skull. Psychiatry is a new section with the First Aid and I think they have done a good job. It may bleed over into Neuro (as far as BRS and other review books go) but the two of them together get four days now and two more days during “the cramming”.
All together now:
If you are taking less time or more time, you simply shave or add a day here and there from one of the blocks in the first four weeks. I do not think it is a good idea to steal or add days from “the cramming” as this is a period favored by the gods. Why not add? “The cramming” is the period where you realize that everything you are reading is the last time you will get to see it before the test, and this is a shocker if you have not prepared for it. Cramming is also useful in the short term, and once you extend that period past two weeks, I think it is a hard argument that your short-term memory is still holding onto the lessons in the first days. Just my advice, but then again I could have done poorly and you should ignore all of this. You can access this calendar online. The dates used are from May 20th, 2007 – June 30th.
QUESTIONS
Which QBank is the best? USMLE WORLD. But that would be shitty advice, right? I could just cut and past the whole thing here, but I would like to keep this file manageable. Please read my evaluation of free questions and Qbanks available online.
BOOKS
Everyone is chasing after that magic bullet: the high-yield book. My experience was that few books can pull this off well and that most try to be miniature textbooks and are unmanageable in the time you have (HY Cell and Molecular by Dudek, HY Neuroanatomy by Fix) or are bare bones and do not help you make many connections (BRS Path). After spending a good chunk of change on these review books, I should have just covered the material in the First Aid using my own textbooks. Most of what you read you will not have to look up (because you learned it) and the things you do look up will be surrounded with full explanations. Anything less than a full answer is annoying and wastes time (if, like me, you tend to dwell). If you have played it correctly, you should also have old review notes from your courses and it is always easier to remember what you used to know instead of starting from scratch with everything. By the end, I was using Golan’s Principles of Pharmacology, Robbins’ Basic Pathology, and the Merck Manual. The Pathology BRS by Schneider and Szanto was useful as an outline (which I used to focus on Robbins) but the questions for each chapter are absolute crap. Costanza’s Physiology BRS was good in parts and her questions were reasonable, but there are a few uncovered topics.
FIRST AID
I tip my hat to Graham Azon of Over!My!Med!Body! for this piece of advice: put the First Aid in a binder. I took my copy to an Office Max, had the spine cut off and the book three-hole-punched, and put it into a 1.5” binder. Best move I ever made. I was able to take separate notes and include them exactly where I needed them and I was able to take my notes from previous courses and include them (my roommate expanded the book to fill two 1.5” binders). It is hard to overstate the advantage of having everything you need in one place.
THE EXAM ITSELF
It is hard to anticipate the pace of this test. When doing timed questions in preparation, there were instances where I would finish with 10 or 20 minutes left. I thought to myself, “Self, you’re going to have plenty of time to look over questions in each block”. I was wrong. On test day, I had around 10 questions marked per block that I wanted to give a second look and two minutes to do it. It was unexpected and unsettling, and for this reason I wished that I had taken the NBME practice test at the center. It is worth it just to remove the final few unknowns for test day.
The clock counts down for each block while you move up the list of questions. Unless you are willing to do the calculation (even subtraction can be stressful), it is hard to know how fast you need to move to finish. For pacing purposes, I ended up starting each block with question #50 and ending with #1. This way I knew exactly how many extra minutes I had to devote to problems as I went along and it helped me gauge whether I had to come up with an answer now (because I was falling behind) or could mark it for later (since I had a seven minute cushion). I would do this again.
I am thankful for the advice I received from a stranger: “You are going to walk out of the test with incredible relief that it is over. This will be mixed with some despair since you will think that you failed. It is over. You did not fail. Everyone feels that way.” He was right, and every one of my friends has echoed it. I went from relief, to defeat, to anger that I had not done better. A week later, I feel “okay”. When you go through it, remember that you are not the first, not the last, and it is normal.
Hope it helps, topher.
]]>So what is one to do? I try to seek the advice of people I think are learned. I am trying to decide whether or not to become an MD, MD/JD, or an MD/MBA. I have a relative who works in the State department. He’s as sharp as they come, and has the enviable life of traveling to a new country every three years to learn their language, represent the US, and manage the affairs of foreign relations and immigration (as I understand it). He comes from physician stock so he is no stranger to the world I am entering. He has an MBA and he has many smart friends with JDs. He seemed like a logical person to ask.
But within the first few moments of speaking with him, I heard so much that betrayed that impression. Why do people think that it is “okay” for physicians to work for less and less pay because medicine is so expensive? How can they keep a straight face when saying, “Well it’s one of the qualities of a physician that no matter what the conditions, no matter the pay, that they are healers and will help people”? Why do people think that because my future livelihood is invaluable means that they can strip away its monetary value? Shouldn’t it be the opposite?
To all of those that say, “Even if you are payed less in salary, there are other benefits such as the gratitude of your patients and that is a sort of payment”, I ask you: why should they be separate? When I pay someone to fix my car and they do a fantastic job, I am grateful AND I pay them what they are worth. Why, in medicine, do you think it’s okay that they are separate?
Why?
]]>Microbiology
- P.137, Bugs with exotoxins
- Bordetella pertussis does not stimulate adenylate cyclase, it instead inhibits GTPase. This differentiates its action from that of cholera toxin and the LT toxin of E.coli, whose actions stimulate adenylate cyclase.
- P.140, Intracellular bugs
- For facultative intracellular, I offer the following:
i. My Liege, Your Niece Lists Frank, Bruce and Sam.
ii. Mycobacterium, Leigonella, Yersinia, Neisseria, Listeria, Francisella, Brucella, Salmonella.
- P.144, Lactose-fermenting enteric bacteria
- After including Serratia, change the mnemonic from “lactose is KEE” to:
i. “Test lactose with MacConKEE’S”.
ii. Citrobacter, Klebsiella, E.coli, Enterobacter, Serratia.
- P.145, Bugs causing diarrhea
- O157:H7 should refer to Enterohemorrhagic E.coli (EHEC), not Enteroinvasive E.coli.
- P.150
- The heading “Microbiology-Mycology” is on the wrong page, and should be on P.151.
- P.152, Pneumocystis carinii
- This microbe is now referred to as Pneumocystis jeroveci.
- P.154, Medically important helminths
- There should be some mention that Schistosomiasis can cause granulomas in the bladder and has a role in Squamous cell carcinoma of the bladder.
- P.163, HIV diagnosis
- A test with high sensitivity has low false-positives, not high. A sensitive test with high false-positives indicates that there is low prevalence of the tested disease in the population. It is more appropriate to use NPV for this type of statement.
- A test with high specificity has low false-negatives, not high. A specific test with high false-negatives indicates that there is a low prevalence of the tested disease in the population. It is more appropriate to use PPV for this type of statement.
i. You may not think that these distinctions are important, but they are. Sensitivity and specificity are qualities of a test and do not change depending on the population tested, but a test conducted in Africa (where prevalence of HIV is high) versus the same test conducted in the US (where the prevalence is low) will have different PPVs and NPVs, i.e., different numbers of false-positive and false-negative results.
- P.164, Prions
- Fatal Familial Insomnia should be included in this list of Prion diseases.
- P.169, Bactericidal antibiotics
- I think that Rifampin, daptomycin, the combination treatment SMX/TMP and the polymyxins should be included in the list of cidal drugs
- P.169, Methicillin….
- “Don’t need MeNDing: Methicillin, Nafcillin, Dicloxacillin”
- P.170, Cephalosporins
- The MTT group responsible for the disulfiram-like reaction is only found in 2nd generation cephalosporins cefotetan and cefamandole. I think it’s worth changing to “(in 2nd generation cephalosporins with a methylthiotetrazole group, e.g. cefamandole and cefotetan)”.
- P.172, Macrolides
- I think it’s worth mentioning that Erythromycin is a potent inhibitor of P450, that Azithromycin is used in prophylaxis of MAC, and that their clinical use is for atypical pneumonias.
- P.172, Clindamycin
- Lincomycin is listed on P.171 as one of the 50S inhibitors, but it is not mentioned that this drug belongs to the same family as Clindamycin. I think this should be changed to “Clindamycin, Lincomycin”
- P.173, Trimethoprim
- I think that the following grouping is interesting:
i. Methotrexate – inhibits human Dihydrofolate reductase
ii. Trimethoprim – inhibits microbial Dihydrofolate reductase
iii. Pyrimethamine – inhibits parasitic Dihydrofolate reductase
- P.176, Antifungal therapy
- The antimicrobials were listed as being either cidal or static, but this is not done for the antifungal drugs. I think this should be included with each description.
i. Polyenes (Amp B and Nystatin) – cidal
ii. Azoles – static
iii. Flucytosine – cidal
iv. Caspofungin – cidal
v. Terbinafine – static
vi. Griseofulvin – static
]]>Each section will be updated seperately, but for those following along, it’s a pain in the ass to recheck. Here are the most recent additions:
Miscellaneous
- P.204, Paraneoplastic effects of tumors:
- Hepatocellular CA is also capable of expressing erythropoietin as a PNP syndrome.
- P.218, Sympathomimetics
- Clonidine and a-methyldopa are centrally acting alpha-2 agonists. They are listed here as simply “alpha”.
- P.230, High-Yield Clinical Vignettes
- The sixth vignette concerning Temporal Arteritis belongs in the Musculoskeletal section as this topic is not covered in Cardiovascular.
- P.231, Auscultation of the heart
- Pulmonic Area: Pulmonic stenosis is a systolic murmur, not diastolic as listed
- Tricuspid Area: ASD is a soft midsystolic murmur on the upper left sternal border, not a diastolic murmur as listed (Merck, 18th, p.2407)
- You might as well label the Left sternal border as Erb’s Point.
- P.242, Eisenmenger’s syndrome
- “As pulmonary resistance [up arrow], RV hypertrophies, the shunt reverses…”
- P.243, Coarctation of the Aorta
- “Infantile type: …of ductus arteriosus (preductal). Rapidly fatal.”
- P.249, Bacterial endocarditis
- “(round white spots on retina surrounded by hemorrhage)” should be placed after “Roth’s spots” and not after “Osler’s nodes”.
- P.263, Adrenal Steroids
- 3B-hydroxysteroid dehydrogenase is listed as 33-hydroxysteroid dehydrogenase.
- P.284, Salivary secretion
- Serous on the Sides (Parotids)
- Mucous in the Middle (sublingual)
- P.290, Stomach cancer
- Virchow’s node – involvement of left supraclavicular node by mets from stomach.
- P.293, Colorectal cancer
- “’Apple core’ lesion seen on barium enema x-ray.”
- I think it’s worth mentioning that colonic adenocarcinoma is most commonly found in the Ascending colon.
- P.293, Cirrhosis and portal hypertension
- Because of the role that cirrhosis plays in increased levels of estrogen and the effects that these estrogen levels have, I think the following symptoms should be grouped:
- Hyperestrinism
- Spider nevi
- Gynecomastia
- Loss of Sexual hair
- Testicular atrophy
- “liver palms”
- Hyperestrinism
- Because of the role that cirrhosis plays in increased levels of estrogen and the effects that these estrogen levels have, I think the following symptoms should be grouped:
- P.297, Carcinoid
- There should be some mention that the “Classic symptoms” refer to carcinoid syndrome, and that this occurs only after metastasis of the carcinoid tumor to the liver.
- P.298, H2 blockers
- Cimetidine and Ranitidine [down arrow] CR clearance.
- P.298, Bismuth, sucralfate
- I think it’s worth mentioning that bismuth is directly toxic to H.pylori.
- P.300, Pro-kinetic agents
- Metoclopramide’s anti-emetic effects are due to central D2-antagonism while it’s peripheral pro-kinetic effects are due to its M1 agonism. I think this should be mentioned.
- P.315, Histocytosis X
- There is no mention of Birbeck granules on EM in this section, despite the fat that on P. 439, this is the classical finding for Histocytosis X.
- P.327, Osteopetrosis
- “chalk stick” fractures are characteristic of Osteopetrosis but are not mentioned here. They are instead mentioned on P.328 under Paget’s disease.
- P.328, Polymyositis/dermatomyositis
- Under dermatomyositis, I think it’s worth mentioning the Gottron papules over the knuckles and the heliotrope rash.
- P.332, Primary bone disorders
- Osteosarcoma is listed as the “Most common [primary] malignant tumor of bone.” As stated on P.312, multiple myeloma is the most common primary malignant tumor of bone. I think that “(excluding multiple myeloma)” should be added.
- P.335, Arachidonic acid products
- “Neutrophils arrive B4 others” to help remember that LTB4 is neutrophil chemoattractant.
- “LTC4 Contracts”
- P.367, Herniation Syndromes and Uncal Herniation
- By far, the best figures to illustrate each of these sections can be found in Fix’s High-Yield Neuroanatomy. His descriptions are confusing and would have to be changed, but please consider Fig. 2-2 and Fig. 2-3 for the next edition.
- P.401, Wilm’s Tumor
- Hemihypertrophy is seen in Beckwith-Weidman syndrome with deletion of the WT2 gene, not in Wilm’s tumor with WT1 deletion.
- P.401, Transitional cell carcinoma
- Schistosomiasis is responsible for bladder wall irritation, leading to squamous metaplasia and then squamous cell carcinoma. It is less often responsible for Transitional cell carcinoma.
- P.433, Pancoast tumor
- There is no mention that Pancoast tumors can invade the lower portion of the brachial plexus (nerves T1 and T2). I think this should be mentioned as vignettes commonly have paresthesias in these dermatomes.
- P.439, Classic Findings
- C-ANCA, P-ANCA – polyarteritis nodosa is listed. This contradicts P.333. This should be changed to “microscopic polyangiitis”.
- P.450, Most Common Associations
- H. Influenzae type B is no longer the primary cause of bacterial meningitis in kids and E.coli is not the primary cause of bacterial meningitis in newborns. The causes are in the correct order on P.165. Group B strep in newborns, S. Pneumoniae in children.
- High-Yield Images, Image 12
- Left ventricular hypertrophy typically involves an expansion of the cardiac outline on both the right and left of the mediastinum. Right ventricular hypertrophy typically expands the cardiac outline left of the mediastinum alone. This picture looks like the “boot shape” of RVH.
Reproductive
- P. 414, Reproductive Pathology
- There is no section for vaginal pathology. I think the following should be added:
- Vaginal Carcinomas
- Squamous Cell CA – typically an extension from the cervix
- Clear Cell CA – seen in women exposed to DES
- Sarcoma Botryoides – rhabdomyosarcoma variant. “bunch of grapes”
- Vaginal Carcinomas
- There is no section for vaginal pathology. I think the following should be added:
- P.417, Polycystic ovarian syndrome
- One of the ways to treat PCOD is with clomiphene, which is neither an OCP or a gonadotropin analog. In women with PCOD that want to conceive, clomiphene is used. In women that do not want to conceive, oral contraceptive pills are used. I think that clomiphene should be included in the treatments.
- P.417, Ovarian non-germ cell tumors
- Serous cystadenocarcinoma is responsible for 50% of ovarian carcinomas, not 50% of ovarian tumors.
- P.418, Breast tumors
- I think “commonly found in the upper outer quadrant” should be included in the general description of malignant tumors.
- Invasive lobular – often multiple, bilateral. Cells in Indian file.
- Paget’s disease of the breast – ….suggest underlying ductal carcinoma.
- P.418, Common breast conditions
- Cystic – fluid filled. “Blue dome“
- Fat Necrosis, …..Pendulous breasts
- P.419, Cryptorchidism
- I think the following should be included:
- Leydig cells spared – [up arrow] FSH, [up arrow] LH
- Increased risk for seminoma, embryonal germ cell tumors.
- I think the following should be included:
- P.419, Testicular germ cell tumors
- Seminoma – radiosensitive
- Yolk sac (endodermal sinus) tumor – infancy and early childhood
- P.420, Clomiphene
- Under clinical use, I think it should include “induce ovulation in PCOD”
Return to First Aid Errors page.
]]>Psychiatry
- P.379, Other anxiety disorders
- “Anxiety disorder – emotional symptoms (anxious, depressed mood) causing impairment following an identifiable psychosocial stressor within the last three months (e.g. divorce, moving….”
- P.379, Malingering
- I think it’s worth adding: “Patient avoids treatment and complaints cease after gain.” This is in contrast to factitious disorder where the patient undergoes treatment ( e.g. surgery) and the complaints recur (grid abdomen).
- P.381, Eating disorders
- A useful distinction between anorexics and bulimics is that anorexics have incredible control over their eating, while bulimics have no control over their eating. Anorexics are often perfectionists while bulimics are often shoplifters.
- P.381, Substance Abuse
- Substance abuse does not require dependence as stated.
- P.387, Monoamine oxidase (MAO) inhibitors
- Atypical depression is characterized by mood reactivity (the ability to feel good when something positive happens) and reversed vegetative symptoms (such as overeating and oversleeping). It is not characterized as accompanying “psychotic of phobic features” as described.
Return to First Aid Errors page.
]]>Heme/Onc
- P.302, High-Yield Clinical Vignettes
- The patient presenting with macrocytic megaloblastic anemia that receives folate (when a B12 deficiency is to blame) is not at risk of masking signs of neural damage. The neural damage is either present or not. This should be changed to:
- “Masks signs of anemia while allowing neural damage to progress with vitamin B12 deficiency.”
- The patient presenting with macrocytic megaloblastic anemia that receives folate (when a B12 deficiency is to blame) is not at risk of masking signs of neural damage. The neural damage is either present or not. This should be changed to:
- P.303, Basophil
- Bosiphilic stippling is scene in RBCs, not Basophils. “Basophilic stippling is seen in TAIL” should be moved to p.307 with the other “RBC forms.”
- P.307, Blood groups
- I think it’s worth mentioning that the Rh+ and Rh- is referring to the D-antigen.
- P.308, Anemia
- “Macrocytic” should include “hypochromic”.
- The category for “Microcytic hyperchromic” is missing and should list Hereditary Spherocytosis and Hemolytic Anemia.
- P.311, Lymphomas, Hodgkin’s
- I do not understand why this is listed as “more common in men except for nodular sclerosing type” since nodular sclerosing type is the most common form of Hodgkin’s lymphoma.
- P.313, Leukemias
- I think it is worth mentioning here that ALL is the most common childhood malignancy and pointing out the association between basophilia and CML.
- P.320, Etoposide
- This is listed here as G2-phase specific. It’s activity is both in S and G2-phase and this is correctly illustrated in the figure “Cancer drugs – cell cycle” on page 318.
- P.320, Tamoxifen, Raloxifene
- These drugs have different activities but are described together, and this leads to confusion. Tamoxifen is a receptor antagonist in breast and a partial agonist in the endometrium, but it is not an agonist in bone nor is it clinically useful in preventing osteoporosis. Raloxifene is an agonist in bone and an antagonist in breast and endometrial tissue and is useful in preventing osteoporosis. To recap:
- tamoxifene has no activity in bone and is not used for osteoporosis.
- I think this section should be rewritten to:
- Tamoxifene: receptor antagonist in breast, partial agonist in bone, no bone activity. Useful in treating breast cancer. Increased risk of endometrial CA.
- Raloxifene: receptor antagonist in breast and endometrium, receptor agonist in bone. Useful in treating breast cancer and preventing osteoporosis. No increased risk of endometrial CA.
- These drugs have different activities but are described together, and this leads to confusion. Tamoxifen is a receptor antagonist in breast and a partial agonist in the endometrium, but it is not an agonist in bone nor is it clinically useful in preventing osteoporosis. Raloxifene is an agonist in bone and an antagonist in breast and endometrial tissue and is useful in preventing osteoporosis. To recap:
Return to First Aid Errors page.
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It’s done. At eight o’clock tonight, I sent out the last FedEx package and now my home is empty of all things “transfer”. A few schools wanted to know what high school I attended. Even after two years of medical school and having taken the boards, they still wanted to know what my undergraduate science GPA was. Will you ever stop haunting me, 3.145 Science GPA?
I’m past the point of handling AIDS kittens for the homeless Inuit clans of Alaska, so I had to scratch real hard for an essay topic.
Would it surprise you that for all the writing that I do, I can’t write a personal statement to save my life? That’s not true. I can’t write a good personal statement to save my life. I’d love to post all of them here so that we could all share a hearty laugh, but I’ve decided that I’m competing with other students and the advice here is too easy to find. I’ll post them all after the last deadline of June 1st. We’ll laugh then.
I was sort of shocked at how much of a pain in the ass it all was. It took three solid days of inefficient work to get every application, every transcript and test score, every recommendation and every check heading in the right directions. One school wanted my reasons for transfer. Another wanted my compassionate and compelling reason for transfer. Another wanted the name of the family member dying of a flesh-eating bacteria that was already attending their medical school whose care would require my transfer so that I could be by her side as we both wrote SOAP notes. But only if I was a resident of the state.
It stretches my imagination none to think of students looking at some of the applications that I just waded through and deciding, “Screw it. Not worth it. I’ll apply somewhere else.” I hope they all do.
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Imagine my surprise when the brand new Thieme Atlas of Head and Neuroanatomy arrived in the mail today. I don’t remember ordering this, though the invoice clearly shows that I paid for it online the night that I took the USMLE. This means that I must have been drunk with a credit card, and I decided to order an Anatomy Atlas. Does anyone else do these types of things? Am I the only one? Do I keep it?
Of course I keep it; it’s beautiful. Onto the links.
My Hero, one of the most powerful stories I’ve read in a long time.
But in those dark hours between signing the consent forms and prepping The Missus for surgery, I slipped down to the hospital chapel, locked the door and laid myself bare.
I’ve been shot at and narrowly missed. I’ve been in more than a few situations when the feces have struck the thermal agitator and everyone else was lost in the fog of panic, and I like to think that I rarely lose my cool. I’ve always thought of it as my gift.
But I found out I can be paralyzed by fear. And so on that night, I laid my head on that communion rail and I wept and I made bargains with God and I promised that if He would let my kid live, I’d do anything that He asked.
There’s really no way to set this up without blowing the joke, so I’ll just Cue Jeopardy Music.
Him: “What are you staring at?”
Me: “I’m just waiting. If I’m right, you’re gonna puke any second now.”
A while ago I read an amazing article on trash and recycling and discovered that what we all think we know can be bogus. I like to keep an open mind to things when I don’t know what I’m talking about, and so it is with global warming. After watching The Great Global Warming Swindle (available here through Google Video), I think what most of us think we know is hogwash. Really stretches the mind.
Blackwhite. I do love the Panda Bear’s rants.
]]>George Orwell in his classic dystopian novel 1984 invents a nightmarish world where, in the time of Big Brother, the very language was being modified to prevent both the expression of dissent and its conception. In the novel, the Party sought not only to eradicate words that could lead to the discussion of thoughtcrime but to prevent even the possibility of it.
In a similar manner, residents lack the conceptual vocabulary to protest their obvious mistreatment and, because they are unable to frame the debate in any other terms but that of the establishment’s brand of Newspeak, they are reduced to sheepishly shuffling their feet and muttering vague self-centered sounding complaints.
Kelly and I are sitting next to each other, each in our own cubicle. Our tests are different, our questions are different. After 9 weeks of 12-hour-a-day studying, we’re ready for everything and anything.
Kelly starts his block and sees an easy one:
Q: Which of the following amino acids is involved in the synthesis of Dopamine?
That’s easy. Phenylalanine to Tyrosine to L-Dopa to Dopamine to Norepinephrine to Epinephrine. He knows the name of each enzyme, the cofactors necessary, what symptoms you would see with a block at every step, and where the Cu2+ comes in to play. He prepared for questions this stupid. This is a joke. He looks down at his options:
A through J.
Chemical structures!
***
“Topher, I came so close to just tapping you on the shoulder and making you look at that question. I didn’t really care if they kicked me out and I forfeited my test, it was just that ridiculous. What do they want from me? Answer me that. What do they want from me?”
“I think they want you to fail, Kelly.”
“It’s not even clinically relevant. That’s what kills me. Even if I knew that, it doesn’t make me a better doctor.”
“You’re wrong, man. You just killed a patient.”
]]>If a grandmother insists that you treat her grandson with chamomile tea, do not sit her down and show her your diploma to remind her that “you are a doctor, and she is just a grandmother.” Also, don’t tell a patient with poor lung function that continuing to smoke is “a complicated and roundabout form of suicide.”
These are the lessons that I learned yesterday while taking the USMLE. It was long, the breaks were short, and I felt rushed with every question. It was challenging and fun.
I really don’t like not knowing my score.
The best thing about the whole thing is it being over.
I don’t ever want to take a test like that again.
Thank you, everyone, for the well-wishes.
]]>And that’s exactly as it’s gone. There’s just one problem with this system: it fails in the last week. I never anticipated the change, but there came a point about a week before this coming test when I realized that every time I was reviewing something, it was the last time I was going to see it before the test. After spending two months looking over everything with a sort of focused laziness, I had set up a pretty stressful situation.
The reason I wanted to take so much time to prepare was to completely avoid this stress. Sigh.
So now, reviewing is an exercise in abuse. Oh yeah, I remember not remembering that fact that I’m not going to remember in a second or two. Hope to God that isn’t on the test. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
It’s the feeling of losing. I set out to hold everything in my head, and reviewing is just hammering home that no matter how much I prepared, it was just going to keep falling out, falling out. Every reread line re-remembered is testament.
I feel like I’ve stepped into the ring, seen my opponent, and gone four out of the five rounds. He’s stronger, faster, bigger. Through the blood, I can barely make out that he’s joking with his coach; that he’s not tired. The judges are looking at the girls with the placards, sharing cigars, not worrying about the last round since no effort on my part could change the ruling that is so cemented. I look at my coach.
“Coach, this fight is over. I can’t beat this guy. I’ve already lost.”
“I know, kid. But that doesn’t matter. Rules is rules. You have to fight the last round even if that means he kills you.”
With three days left, I stagger up. I slap my gloves together hoping the thud stirs some lost adrenaline. My legs change places not from heart, but from habit. I meet him in the middle and tense for the blow. The futility.
]]>Until you’ve had someone yell at you for getting it wrong, it’s hard to really understand how well a question can be asked. The Dinosaur does not have that problem. On trying to ellicit a sexual history from a patient:
By the way: males starting about age 14 are asked, “Do you use condoms when you have sex?” thus forcing the explicit answer, “I don’t have sex.” I call it the “Have you stopped beating your wife yet?” approach.
The Tremulous Punditosphere
Fascinating synopsis of the divide in ability (and accountability) between pundits in the mainstream media versus those in the blogosphere.
Problem is, these are subjective criteria. What typically happens in the MSM is that, by some quite mysterious process, an editor or publisher decides that some particular person with opinions would make a good pundit, whether its because of the sparkle of their prose or the cut of their jib. A column or regular TV appearances are granted. And then, amazingly, they’re in forever. Rarely are columnists fired for not making sense; once they claim that status, they tend to keep it, no matter how pointless or uninformed their work turns out to be. It’s as if the NBA drafted players straight out of high school, but then they never had to play a game; they all just received long-term contracts, with salaries based on how good they look during lay-up drills and dunk contests. Maureen Dowd will be taking up space on the New York Times Op-Ed pages for decades to come.
Burnout: Embers
Sid Schwab is a favorite read of mine, and this adds to his catalogue.
The medical director of my clinic once gave me a book on burnout. I never read it. Didn’t have the time or energy.
Because a young reader considering a career in surgery referred to stories he’s heard of depressed and disappointed surgeons and asked for my thoughts, I’ll try to address it. Parenthetically, I’ve heard from more than a few readers that my blog and/or book has inspired them to consider surgery as a career. Don’t know whether to smile proudly, or shoot myself.
His rant continues beautifully in the second post, Burnout: Fanning the Flames.
So much of reading blogs is to live that “other life” and the Ambulance Driver doesn’t disappoint with yet another post about the fantastic pranks he’s pulled:
A wise man would concoct a lie. A creative fellow would contrive a plausible story. A careful man would consider his words before delivering an answer.
I blurted out the truth.
Ah HA HA HA! The Panda Bear kills me. This post is really three-in-one as he covers Mr. Kelso, hospital call for residents, and the Church of Patient Care. All of it good, all of it funny.
“So, Mr. Kelso, what brings you to see us today?”
From top to bottom Mr. Kelso is a walking pathology textbook. An impossible combination of signs, symptoms, and disease who is probably only alive because his many comorbidities haven’t decided which will have the honor of finally dispatching him.
Two great index cards from one of my favorite blogs, Indexed.
Maggie at From the Archives is uncommonly honest and insightful. I really liked what she had to say in 100% Thermonuclear Protection.
I want to trust people and I don’t want to be scared or suspicious. Being low level scared would be a constant drain. It would cost me some slight mental processing to be assessing risk. It would take energy to feed the nervousness. It would be weigh slightly on the don’t-do-things side of the scale, where sloth and inertia are already plenty heavy. Years ago I decided that I am not scared. I believe in probabilities, I decided, and scary people are rare.
And finally, As If Inside the Earth by Signout:
]]>Looking at his blood test results during a quiet moment in the hospital tonight, I can see that he is dying.
Through the computer screen, he is as far away from me as I was from him on that day, when he opened the conversation that I quickly closed. If I had listened to the meaning of his words and his unmuffled voice, maybe I would have heard what he was asking me–if it was OK for him to let himself go.
I should have taken off the stethoscope.
We started on January 4th. That was two months and a handful of days ago. We’ve put in (conservatively) 600 hours for this one test. This one test with its terrifying 350 random questions. This test with the two-year scope.
I have developed personal relationships with the authors. I think Glasner is a genius, that Dudek mailed it in, that Sczanto and Schneider have the worst questions imaginable, and that Costanzo has more than a few blindspots. Fadem needs to get an MD. The Merck is my bedrock; the Robbins is my quick consult; the First Aid is my rough guide.
The boys at WebPath, Tulane’s Pharm, and UW keep me honest. I can pretend to know so much more than I do, and it’s these guys that call me on the bullshit. That, and all the people reading the First Aid Errors that point out mistakes I’ve made. Thanks, to everyone.
And thanks to everyone that had something encouraging to say when I felt that thing were going to shit, that I was fucking it all up, and I just wanted it to be over. Shortly after I changed scenery, changed my routine, and found my stride.
I’m writing this down so I don’t forget that no matter how rough it feels in this next week, I was in the right place when it started. Over all the tests, Kelly and I have developed a program. When Grenada was invaded by American forces after the communist coup, the operation was named “Urgent Fury”. Dorks, we know, but we’ve always tried to bring that silly intensity to the last week of studying before any test. And so we’ve named it “Operation: Urgent Knowledge”. During this period, all knowledge is urgent and will be memorized urgently. Tomorrow, it begins and I’m giving myself a moment to reflect on it all.
I have a line of sight to the finish, and goddamn it feels better than I thought it would.
]]>So despite my attraction, I can never love Psych and like so much unrequited love, we have agreed to hate each other.
I am not alone, as Kelly hates Psych too. Dyslexic as hell, Kelly fights tooth and nail to remember all these facts without rhyme or reason. Pharm is especially difficult for him while Physiology and Pathology come more easily because they “aren’t retarded and make sense like they’re supposed to.”
***I asked him once to describe how he remembers some of the drugs.
It’s not that bad. Chlorpromazine is Chlorxxxxxxxx. Carbamazepine is Carbxxxxxxxxxx. Carmustine is Carmxxxxxx. I get by.
For all the precocious dyslexic children out there: Yes, you can become a physician.***
Kelly and I are sitting in the Commons at Xavier University, hating life and Psychology with it’s lack of any framework when Kelly let’s out a victory cry. By this, I mean he cried out, “VICTORY FOR KELLY!” to the entire Commons (empty with everyone off to Spring Break).
Kelly’s a humble guy and not the type to dabble in the third person, so I’m curious. “What’s your problem?”
“Dude, remember those asshole clinical tutors in Grenada?”
“Of course.”
“Okay, just play along. ‘What brings you here today?'”
“That’s easy: an ambulance.” Here, I think I’m being clever. I wrote about it here, but the “What brings you here today?” question is famous in Grenada for quickly unmasking the good clinical tutors from the dicks who jump down your throught.
You cannot ask that question! The patient could say ‘car’ or ‘taxi’ or ‘ambulance’. You have to ask a question that can only be answered with the information you want.
Wow, you’re so right. I can’t believe I made such a mistake. I should always assume that the patient coming to me with a problem won’t be able to fight the urge to be a smartass as you’ve so expertly demonstrated. I’ve made a note to myself. Moving on…
And this is why Kelly had declared victory. “You’re Schizophrenic!”
“What?”
“Yeah! Schizophrenics have difficulty with abstract thought, cannot understand irony, and use language literally. The only person that would ever answer “ambulance” is probably schizophrenic! Do you have any idea how many people presenting to the ER have a psych problem? I think it’s all of them! If you can separate the schizos from everyone else with your first question, then that makes this the BEST question you could probably ask! They should be teaching this to everyone! Oh GOD how I wish I could travel back in time and make those tutors feel like morons over this. Toph, you have to promise me that you’ll write about this on your blog. You have to make sure that every student at SGU knows about this so they can rub it in those tutors’ faces.”
Well, I promised.
]]>At this point we decided to call it a Cat’s game. Debate ensued as to whether that should be called “Turner’s game” (XO) or “Androgynous” (with no clear winner).
Legend for the non-medical:
- Gower’s maneuver is seen in Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy, which is X-linked.
- That is supposed to be a Basophil.
- Lesch-Nyhan is also X-linked. I was biting my lip at this point.
- Krukenberg tumor has signet ring cells, which look like perfect circles.
- Hemophilia is also X-linked.
- Tinea corporis is otherwise known as ringworm.
If anyone has there own Med-Tac-Toe board, feel free to send it to rumorsweretrue at gmail.com and I’ll be happy to post it.
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Dear Internets,
I think you know that I love you. That, I think, goes without typing. I remember when I received my first computer so that I could visit you. It was seventh grade and I was fascinated with your bounty of porn. I learned HTML and Javascript and began making webpages to impress you. We shared some great times that summer, away from the sun and all the people that didn’t understand our love.
I was certain we would be together forever. I was going to go to college to get a Masters in computers, you were going to keep searching for new things to share with me. We would strike out west to California and start a life together. It was all going to be so perfect, but you just couldn’t wait.
“Things weren’t moving fast enough,” you said. You were leaving me to see the coast on your own. Yes, you were outgrowing me and yes, I wanted you all to myself. Looking back, I know that you were too beautiful to keep all bottled up, but you never had to be so harsh about it, leaving without saying goodbye and taking the mouse (even though we bought him together).
I remember growing jealous as older men (with their fancy Computer Science degrees) ran off to the Silicon Valley with their signing bonuses and their shiny cars, whispering “dot com” and you ate it all up. I had to sit on the sidelines and watch. Year after year, I sat in the classroom still convinced that I wasn’t going to be too late, that I’d get my degree in time before you promised yourself to someone else. I mashed my teeth and watched as the money grew and you changed.
Every quarter, things just getting better and better for you and all the new people in your life. Oh, it was so fabulous what with all the free giveaways and the new software and the fancy CSS. It made me so mad inside to see you so happy without me, I wished for all sorts of horrible things to happen.
I know it was a rough time in your life, but I smiled from ear to ear for weeks when the Bubble burst and you came crashing down to earth with the rest of us.
I know now that my response was out of jealousy. You see, I called Al Gore and got some help. He knew your type and helped me see that if we were meant to be, then we would be. So I took some time to work on some “me” issues, you know, really explore some deep places and try to understand my feelings. That was several years ago.
Well I’m older now, in the 18th grade, and you’ve settled down quite a bit. I was only half surprised to run into you at the WiFi Starbucks; I felt like fate was waiting for the right time. I feel like we’re finally starting to connect in all the ways we couldn’t before. We were both young and immature and that you grew up so much faster was sure to create problems but I’m glad that’s all behind us and that you’ve come around. It’s been a long wait.
These last few years have been great. You have more facets than I could ever explore, your mystery is boundless and that is part of why I love you so much. But lately, I’m feeling a little tired. I want to keep up with you, but it’s almost too much. I come home after a long day of work and I know that you’ve been waiting for me so that you can tell me about Britney Spears’ day or that funny thing that Bush said but didn’t mean, he thinks. I know that nothing would make you happier than if we both sat down in front of the Tube to watch every show you taped for me, but I just can’t.
No no, baby. I’m not saying that I don’t love you anymore. Yes, I’m still in love with you, but you have too much energy for me and if we continue like this, I think it might turn into resentment on both our parts. We’ve come so far and I’d hate to see it all get mixed up again. I’m not saying we should break up. That is not what I am saying. What I think would be best, for both of us, would be if we took just a tiny break. You know, recharge our batteries and rediscover all the reasons we came together in the first place.
Anyway, that’s my idea. That’s how I feel. I still love you, Internets, it’s just that I can’t spend every moment with you anymore.
I think we need some space.
]]>To everyone else, sorry to bore you to death.
Quote:
Awesome question with a cool answer. Unfortunately, it requires some detail to explain. Here’s a table I made when I was sorting it out for myself.


The Na+ channels of the SA and AV nodes are always firing (more or less) and are termed “active”. This is in contrast to the Na+ channels of the ventricles that are usually off or “inactive”. This all makes sense when you remember that the slow depolarization of the SA/AV is via Na+ channel, whereas the Na+ channels of the ventricles are off except for a very brief phase 0 upstroke (not a lot of time for a drug to take effect).
So, what makes a Class I a Class I is its action on these active Na+ channels. From this, you expect their action to be in the nodes and not in the ventricles. What makes Quinidine a Ia is its additional K+ action. In the SA/AV, this would prolong repolarization. In the ventricles, this would also prolong repolarization. Now, the prolonged QT, the slowing HR, etc begin to make sense.
If you can keep the differences between the SA/AV and the Ventricles straight AND commit the table I included to memory, then the effects of these drugs start to come together. Shockingly, more detail up front requires less memorization later on and leads to a real understanding of antiarrhythmials.
So when people say that Amiodarone is also a Class I, they’re missing it! Amiodarone doesn’t have the basic action that makes a Class I a Class I, and instead includes the actions that make a Ia and a Ib different from a standard Class I.
Lot of details, but interesting nonetheless. The only thing I’ll add is that the Na+ channel in the SA/AV is a “funny” channel and that the Ca2+ channel in the SA/AV is an L-type channel. Why do you care? Well, the actions of Beta-Blockers don’t make sense otherwise. Beta-blockers like Propranolol can act at the Funny channel and the L-type channels in the SA/AV, and can also act at the Ca2+ in the ventricle, but you don’t see them affect the Na+ channel in the ventricles.
You should be able to piece together the rest. In the meantime, here are the bullet points.
Block: Effect
K+: Delays repolarization ↑AP duration, ↑ ERP, ↑ QT interval (risk for Torsade de pointes)
Na+ (SA/AV): ↓ automaticity, ↓ slope of phase 4, ↓ cell excitability
Na+ (Vent) : ↓ conduction, ↓ slope of phase 0 depolarization
Ca2+: ↓ conduction (SA/AV), ↓ slope of phase 4, ↓ phase 2 plateau (Vent), ↓ contractility, ↓ QT interval
Beta-receptor: Na+ (SA/AV)-block and Ca2+-block; negative chronotropic, dromotropic, and inotropic
Mg2+: Functional Ca2+ blocker; first line in Torsades de Pointes, Digitoxin toxicity
Adenosine: Receptors on SA and AV node; ↑ K+ and ↓ Ca2+ conductance, hyperpolarizes; may cause AV block; DOC in diagnosing/abolishing AV nodal arrhythmias. Toxicity: flushing, chest burning. t1/2 = 10s.
Gastrointestinal
- P.280, Abdominal layers
- Not necessary, but I’m just begging you to change this image. In contrast to a typical cross-section on CT, this image is flipped over its axis. This means that with left body on right page, we are looking from head-to-toe and not toe-to-head (as in a CT) and the anterior abdominal wall is placed below the spine on the page instead of above (as in a CT). The simplest solution is to remove all the labels, flip the image across its horizontal axis (as opposed to rotation which would place the IVC and Aorta incorrectly), and then reapply the labels.
- P.281, Femoral triangle
- The Femoral nerve is not labeled correctly as a nerve. Instead, the “Femoral a.” and “Femoral v.” labels are both pointing to the Femoral nerve. The Femoral artery and Femoral vein are not labeled. This image is also missing the “Empty space and lymphatics” of the femoral triangle.
- P.282, Inguinal canal
- The “Deep inguinal ring” label is not labeling anything. I think a bar pointing to the ring should be added.
- The label “Medial umbilical ligaments” is pointing to one (of two) of the medial umbilical ligaments and (incorrectly) to the median umbilical ligament. The labeling should change appropriately.
- The labels “Deep inguinal ring” and “External inguinal ring” are not consistent with the next page, and I think the small changes to “Internal (deep) inguinal ring” and External (superficial) Inguinal ring” would clear up any confusion and bring it in line with the descriptions on the following page.
- P.284, Salivary secretion
- I think a fourth bullet point with “Lingual lipase begins TAG digestion; activated at low pH on reaching stomach” should be added. This offers a contrast to the activation and action of alpha-amylase.
- P.285, GI hormones
- I think it’s worth mentioning that Gastrin’s effects are inhibited by Somatostatin. According to Costanzo (BRS Phys), it is a pH of 3 (not 1.5 ) which is the checkpoint for the gastrin/acid-secretion feedback loop between the antrum and the body of the stomach.
- Vagal stimulation of gastric acid secretion is due to ACh (as listed on P.284), but no mention is made that vagal stimulation of gastrin secretion from G cells is due to Gastrin Releasing Peptide (GRP). Because this explains why anti-muscarinics do not prevent the secretion of gastrin, I think it should be mentioned.
- Cholecystokinin should include “(CCK)” since this abbreviation is not stated elsewhere and is used within the same row of the table. It is also worth mentioning that CCK potentiates Secretin’s effect on pancreatic HCO3- secretion.
- Secretin’s effect on increased bile production is not mentioned.
- I think it’s worth adding the second-messenger systems used by each hormone. Since Gs, Gi and Gq were previously covered (P.214) I think it’s helpful enough to list the following next to each hormone:
- Gastrin (Gq)
- CCK (Gq)
- Secretin (Gs)
- Somatostatin (Gi)
- GIP (Gs)
- VIP (Gs)
- NO (cGMP)
- I think it’s worth mentioning that Gastrin’s effects are inhibited by Somatostatin. According to Costanzo (BRS Phys), it is a pH of 3 (not 1.5 ) which is the checkpoint for the gastrin/acid-secretion feedback loop between the antrum and the body of the stomach.
- P.286, Regulation of gastric acid secretion
- The pattern established by this figure is that each drug with a line towards a receptor is inhibitory for that receptor. This is not the case for Misoprostol, which is a PG analog and stimulatory at the receptor. To avoid any confusion, I think that + and – signs are more appropriate here.
- P.294, Alcoholic hepatitis
- Changing the mnemonic from “You’re toASTed with alcoholic hepatitis” to “ToASTed, Sam GOT alcoholic hepatitis” helps you remember that SGOT is also known as AST (which is easy to forget).
- P.296, Primary sclerosing cholangitis
- I had no idea what an ERCP was, nor would I expect most other second-years to know it. If it’s going to be mentioned, I think it should be spelled out to “endoscopic retrograde cholangiopancreatogram (ERCP)”
- P.296, Reye’s syndrome
- In the way that acute pancreatitis is associated with gallstones and ethanol (for example), Reye’s is not associated “with viral infection … and salicyclates;” it is associated with the combination. It’s subtle but important. I think “and” should be changed to “treated with“.
Return to First Aid Errors page.
]]>Neurology
- P.345, Basal ganglia
- I think this image is confusing and could benefit from a few additions. Specifically, I think it should be made clear that neurons from the SNc are synapsing on neurons in the Striatum. The Striatal neurons are currently labeled as “Putamen” which would lead to confusion if a test stem referenced the “striatal neurons” that are the sites of Huntington’s lesions.
- I think it is appropriate in this section to repeat that Dopamine is inhibitory through its D2 receptor (currently unmentioned) and stimulatory through its D1 receptor.
- The light and dark shading of the pathways is not very intuitive, and I think a return to + and – signs might be worthwhile.
- P.349, Spinal tract anatomy and functions
- Under 3rd-order neuron, “sensory cortex” is listed for the Dorsal column-medial lemniscus tract. The third order neuron is actually that neuron originating in the thalamus (receiving the 2nd-order neuron as described) and then projecting to the sensory cortex. It is the 4th order neuron (within the sensory cortex) that is the end-point of this tract and responsible for any conscious experience. “sensory cortex” should be changed to “ascends from VPL of thalamus to sensory cortex.”
- This same criticism applies to “sensory cortex” listed for Spinothalamic tract.
- P.357, Visual field defects
- The 6th bullet for “Left hemianopia with macular sparing” should include the “(PCA)” since this is the most commonly cited cause. The image should also include a bar across the fibers in the posterior part of the optic radiation. As it stands, “6” is the only number in the figure without a bar marking the site of the disruption.
- P.359, Aphasia
- Just for the repetition, I think the following should be added here:
- Broca’s (44,45)
- Wernicke’s (22)
- Just for the repetition, I think the following should be added here:
- P.363, Primary brain tumors
- Childhood peak incidence
- F. Pilocytic (low grade): this tumor is correctly described as being found most often in the posterior fossa, however, it is drawn in the anterior fossa and supratentorial. Further, the image of the brain is backwards from what is traditionally shown, which may have led to some confusion during the illustration.
- Childhood peak incidence
- P.364, Tabes dorsalis
- Because space is not an issue here and the term has not been used recently, I think it might be worth extending “DTRs” to “deep tendon reflexes”.
- P.365, Brown-Sequard syndrome
- First bullet point is followed by “not shown”. Similarly, the fifth bullet point is also not shown on the diagram. I do not understand this, since the territory of “Ipsilateral UMN signs” is identical to the territory of “Ipsilateral loss of tactile, vibration, proprioception sense”. It seems the labeling could read “1,2” instead of just “2”. My point is similar for bullet points “4,5” instead of “4” when describing the territories of “Ipsilateral loss of all sensation at level of lesion” and “LMN signs at level of lesion”.
- P.366, Facial lesions
- Instead of the current mnemonic “ALexander Bell with STD: AIDS, Lyme, Sarcoid, Tumors, Diabetes” I suggest the shorter “BLASTeD: Bell’s palsy from Lyme, AIDS, Sarcoid, Tumors, Diabetes”. A small change, but somewhat easier to remember. Or, if you like, “Bell-LASTeD“.
- P.367, Parkinson’s disease drugs
- When describing bromocriptine, I think it’s important to say that it is not simply a “partial dopamine agonist”. It is instead a selective dopamine agonist at the D2 receptor, and has its action not in stimulating the direct pathway of the basal ganglia, but instead suppresses the indirect pathway.
- P.370, Anesthetics – general principles
- The line beginning “Drugs with [up arrow] solubility…” could use a little changing. I suggest beginning with the reciprocal relationship between MAC and potency, followed by the conclusion. I also believe that MAC is not Minimal Anesthetic Concentration but Minimal Alveolar Concentration. The distinction is important as the two are not the same.
- MAC = Minimal Alveolar Concentration. Potency = 1/MAC. [up arrow] solubility = [up arrow] potency = [down arrow] MAC.
- The line beginning “Drugs with [up arrow] solubility…” could use a little changing. I suggest beginning with the reciprocal relationship between MAC and potency, followed by the conclusion. I also believe that MAC is not Minimal Anesthetic Concentration but Minimal Alveolar Concentration. The distinction is important as the two are not the same.
- P.371, Intravenous anesthetics
- I propose an alternative for the mnemonic “B.B. King on OPIATES PROPOses FOOLishly” for memorizing Barbiturates, Benzodiazepines, Ketamine, Opiates and Propofol.
- KOPs keep them BEhind BARs: Ketamine, Opiates, Propofol, BEnzodiazepines, BARbiturates.
- Bonus: …where they are put to sleep by IV anesthetics.
- KOPs keep them BEhind BARs: Ketamine, Opiates, Propofol, BEnzodiazepines, BARbiturates.
- I propose an alternative for the mnemonic “B.B. King on OPIATES PROPOses FOOLishly” for memorizing Barbiturates, Benzodiazepines, Ketamine, Opiates and Propofol.
- P.371, Local anesthetics
- In the second bullet point, when dealing with the order of nerve blockade, the small myelinated/unmyelinated fibers of the ANS could be included “temperature > ANS > touch”
Return to First Aid Errors page.
]]>Last night, I was trying to memorize my dreams. I’ve never been able to remember my dreams. But right now my brain is so wired for intake of data that any experience I have is something I assume I’m going to be tested on later.
Cat said it right: Studying in medical school is like having sex while you are drunk. You never actually finish, you just keep going until it’s not worth it anymore.
God I love medical school.
]]>- Mr. Always Late to Small Groups Guy (guilty)
- Mr. Will This be on the Exam Asker
- Mr. Always Prepared For Everything Guy
- Mr. Awesome Floor Team Avoider
- Mr. Really Bad With Children Guy
- Mr. Walk Behind the Lecturer Guy
- Mr. Falls Asleep During Everything Guy (guilty)
- Mr. Accidental Scrub Out Guy
Shrug. I don’t know if you should or shouldn’t. The best I can do is tell you why I didn’t. Comprehensive review courses make a few implicit promises that include:
- Structured lecture, pacing of material, routine
- A community of other serious students
- A one-stop-shop for your review materials
- Some diagnostic component
- Confidence that you’re studying the right way
If you’re thinking about taking the Kaplan course, this is more or less what you’ll get. A great many of my classmates went this route and chose the Step 1 Prep Retreat which includes a full-service hotel setting and costs $5,599. That’s a lot of money. I could have chosen to take out a “bridge” loan for $6000 to cover it, but I decided to make damn sure that it was worth it before I added to my debt.
Could I accomplish everything the review course was offering on my own? The structured lecturing was out of the question. I didn’t go to class for the first two years, so taking a live lecture course made little sense for me. I’ve written about it before, but believe me when I tell you that my ears are stupid. I’ve never been the type to sit passively and absorb information; I instead need to be actively involved by rewriting the material (time-consuming) or teaching it.
As far as the pacing goes, I got a hold of the Kaplan lecture schedule just to see how much weight they gave to each section. Then, I just picked something upon which to base a schedule (First Aid), looked at how many days I had to study, and made one for myself. It wasn’t that hard to do. Sticking to it is often a pain, but chances are that every time I want to fall behind my study partner is keeping pace. At this point, my competitive nature takes over and I buckle down.
Daily routine has been incredibly important and we screwed it up. Trying to find a good place to study is hard in the winter when all the public libraries keep banker’s hours and all the academic ones are for students only. Having to sneak in, find parking a mile away, and worry about freezing to death all got in the way for us. Eventually, we found a great library and have been going there every day from 8am-6pm, but we wasted about four weeks trying to find it. So far, wasting that time has been one of my biggest mistakes. Things would have been so much easier if I was the type that could get work done at home.
I couldn’t exactly get a community of students around me, but I thought that might be a good thing. As it stands, I struck a deal with my roommate: I’ll make you study if you make me study. We shook on it and things have been going well for six weeks now. I recently spoke with a classmate of mine at the Kaplan Retreat in Alabama and found out how different it is.
“Kaplan Spring Break 2007! WOO!” I was afraid of that, to be honest. So many medical students reliving their dorm days sounds like a recipe for distraction. “We all wake up for eight hours of lecture with an hour break for lunch and by the end of it, we’re too tired to do anything else. We either spend the rest of the day watching a movie, going to the hotel bar, or lifting weights and relaxing in the indoor pool. It’s pretty great.” All that’s missing is a few testimonials about all the hot singles waiting for your call and a 900 number. I’m glad I passed.
As my roommate Kelly put it, “This is two months of your life where you make yourself a deal: life is going to suck, you’re going to work, you will have no fun so that after it’s over you don’t have to regret any of it.” Sounded good to me.
Being on your own outside of a class also means having to figure which books to get. There’s a great book called The Paradox of Choice that I recommend, but the nuts and bolts of it is that by having so many options and having the time to compare them against each other, we end up paralyzing ourselves and no matter what we choose (even if it’s better than what we would have chosen without all the options) we’re more unhappy with it. Such is life when buying review books. I thought I had a handle on it but have since learned that the books everyone else thinks are great I think are shit, and that no matter what happened I wouldn’t have had the time to find the “right” ones anyway.
So if you get the Kaplan books when you take the Kaplan class, you’ll probably be really happy with them. I have been unhappy with mine because I can compare them against other books to see their strengths and weaknesses. Ignorance is bliss. If I had to do it all over again, I might have just gone to Amazon.com, looked at a list of books I should buy, and then done so without questioning.
As far as the diagnostic component goes, I started studying for the USMLE thinking that the Kaplan QBank was the only game in town. I’ve since discovered quite the opposite and ended up going with USMLE WORLD. You have to wonder how many people never investigate and end up going with Kaplan classes because of how famous the Kaplan QBank is.
The last one is a doozy: confidence that you’re studying the right way. I struggled with this one before beginning. Ultimately, I looked at my last two years in school and decided that I had done enough things correctly that I could fake my way through preparing for the Boards. It also helped that I found the Step1Blog and talked to a few successful people a year ahead of me that also studied on their own. I’ve tried to figure out the best way to cover the material and I’ve failed at it more than a few times but I’ve also had some success and now I’m in my stride. Good thing since the test is now three weeks away.
In all, I’ve lived at my roommates house rent free, paid for gas, spent $500 on books ($200 of which I wasted on the Kaplan Lecture Notes), $200 on warm clothes because Cincinnati is freezing, and spent $700 to register for the actual exam. That comes to the grand total of $1500. What am I doing with the extra $4000 that I didn’t spend on a course?
My own Kaplan Spring Break 2007!
- Flight from Midwest, USA to Bangkok, Thailand on March 27th.
- Canon D60 digital camera with two Sigma lenses
- Northface backpack (I will be living from this)
- Flight home, May 8th
WOO!
Return to USMLE Step 1 page.
]]>On this post, I wrote about being frustrated with the amount of material I have to cover. An indivdual from SGU (my school) left a comment on it that encapsulates my biggest frustrations with the way this school is packaged and sold to prospective students. It essentially said (as I read it) that I should paint a rosier picture of what studying is like so that people don’t get scared of hard work, become discouraged, and fail at life. My response, while possibly out of proportion, reflected my anger at such dreck.
SGU is not a lemon. It’s a damn good school, one that I loved attending, and one I would recommend and defend. The school should be proud of this, the school should be honest about what it is, and it should be honest with its students (both present and future). My father has been selling cars he fixes for years, and he is always up front about what the car is and isn’t. I’ve learned from watching people respond to him that an honest scratch is worth a hundred dollars of bullshit shine. I believe in this, I try to live by this, and when I wrote the guide to the school I held myself to that standard.
And now I’m selling myself off piece by piece with compromises. I know, I know, this isn’t a principled world and so much can be accomplished in the grey that can’t be done in the black or white, but it still doesn’t sit well with me. The Administration’s approval (so that the guide can be distributed to all incoming students) is coming at the cost of some honesty.
Specifically, the culture of the island. Grenada’s culture was different from my own, the average work ethic is below the manic American standard, and island living means sometimes living without certain amenities. I’ve learned from all of these differences, but when I came to the island I had little warning and I managed to offend my bus driver and a hostess because of it. I wanted to save other people that experience, and so I wrote the School Culture section. When this was veted by people at SGU, it was judged “offensive” and I was told that it had to be removed. I’m not holding a lot of cards here (as the school has no problem not providing this information) and I have more to gain by it being shared with the change than I have to keep it as is.
So that’s where I am, pissed and moaning and giving in. You can see the original here and compare with what’s below. Please, tell me that the differences aren’t important so I can feel better about it.
]]>“The people of Grenada are wonderful. You will make many friends on the island, not only with your peers, but also with the Grenadians that are kind enough to share their island with us. Greeting people is considered basic courtesy and should occur before any business transaction. Not greeting people is a sign of disrespect. Just remember to always smile and wave. Being polite goes a long way.
Med students are a stressed out bunch in general. Med students living in Grenada, without the comforts and conveniences of home can be even more on edge. The school does a pretty good job of trying to eliminate the unnecessary stresses. The administration and Facilities Manager are very receptive to student suggestions. Keep in mind that the internet is not always going to work. Sometimes the washing machines will break. If you have a healthy sense of humor, the stressful things about Grenada can be hilarious
Try to remember that there is no hurry and life will be a lot easier on you.”
I have taken today off from preparing for the USMLE to call 80+ US medical schools. This is in the hopes that they are accepting applications for transfer into their 2nd or 3rd years. It’s not fun and I am assured by students that have done it themselves that it is good to do because it “builds character.”
“Do you accept applications from foreign medical students?”
“No. Wait, are you a resident of this state?”
“No, I’m not.”
“Then hell no.”
Repeat 80 times. So much character I need a drink. It’s a shame that life is filled with stories of people being told “no” a hundred times before hearing a single, life-changing “yes” because it’s that possibility that keeps me trudging along when I’d rather not. I already have a list of 15 schools that I know will take my application; the rest of this is just masochism.
Of course, it’s just a bunch of secretaries on a phone somewhere. I’ll get over it.
*Addendum*
These folks saved themselves the trouble of my phone call:
]]>Q: Are students from “off-shore” medical schools eligible?
A: No.
Q: Are students who are U.S. citizens enrolled in a foreign medical school recognized by the World Health Organization (WHO) eligible?
A: No.
Renal (all references from Merck Manual and Robbins Basic Pathology)
- P.396, Hormones acting on kidney
- Atrial Natriuretic Factor (ANF) is listed as Atrial Natriuretic Peptide (ANP) on the preceding page. I think one term should be used consistently.
- P.401, Kidney stones
- To help remember which stones are largely radiolucent:
- “I can’t C U on XRay.” for Cystine and Uric acid stones.
- To help remember which stones are largely radiolucent:
- P.405, Mannitol
- Mannitol can be used clinically to decrease intracranial pressure (as listed). If given too rapidly, it can also cause an increase in intracranial pressure. I think this should be listed as well under the toxicities.
- P.405, Ethacrynic acid
- “Similar to furosemide; can be used in hyperuricemia, acute gout (never use to treat gout)” is not correct. This should instead say, “can cause hyperuricemia, acute gout (never use to treat gout).”
- P.406, ACE inhibitors
- One of the clinical uses for these drugs is to decrease proteinuria. In toxic doses, it can also cause proteinuria. I think this should be mentioned under clinical uses.
Return to First Aid Errors page.
]]>Musculoskeletal (all references from Merck Manual and Robbins Basic Pathology)
- P.326, Smooth muscle contraction
- This diagram shows Myosin light-chain phosphatase (MLCP) acting before contraction. Every other reference I have found details SMC contraction in the following steps
- Calcium binds calmodulin
- Calcium-calmodulin activates Myosin light chain kinase (MLCK)
- MLCK phosphorylates myosin, allowing a crossbridge to form
- Contraction follows
- MLCP dephosphorylates myosin, allowing for relaxation.
- I think this diagram should be changed in the following way:
- “Cross-bridge formation with contraction“
- After the action of MLCP, “contraction” should be changed to ” relaxation.”
- This diagram shows Myosin light-chain phosphatase (MLCP) acting before contraction. Every other reference I have found details SMC contraction in the following steps
- P.327, Rheumatoid arthritis
- In RA, the DIP is completely spared. A small point, but the image of the Swan-neck deformity should be pointing to the involved joint (hyper-extended PIP) and not the DIP (normal).
- P.327, Osteopetrosis
- In addition to be called “marble bone disease,” this condition is frequently referred to as “Albers-Schonberg” disease. I think this should be mentioned.
- Osteopetrosis also presents with hepatosplenomegaly (secondary hematopoiesis due to loss of bone marrow) and cranial nerve palsies. I think both of these should be mentioned.
- P.327, Osteitis fibrosa cystica
- This disease is also often referred to as “von Recklinghausen’s disease of bone.”
- In the same way that alkaline phosphatase is raised in states of high osteoblastic activity, Tartrate-Resistant Acid Phosphatase (TRAP) levels are raised in states of high osteoclastic activity. I think it is worth mentioning both of these correlates in this section.
- P.328, Polyostotic fibrous dysplasia
- This disease is often referred to as McCune-Albright. I think the text should be changed to “(McCune-) Albright Syndrome”
- P.329, Gout
- I think it would be helpful to include “glucose-6-phosphatase deficiency (von Gierke’s)“.
- P.330, Scleroderma
- After the first bullet point, I think it should say, “Associated with anti-Scl-70 antibody against topoisomerase“.
- P.331, Skin disorders
- Atopic dermatitis has pruritic eruptions within skin flexures, not on flexor surfaces i.e. you would expect to see them within the elbow crease and around the neck instead of on the surface of the bicep and forearm.
- Seborrheic keratosis should include the common vignette descriptions of “ stuck-on appearance” and “greasy.”
- P.332, Primary bone disorders
- A constant feature of osteoid osteoma (in contrast to osteoblastoma and osteoma) is complaint of pain at the site of the lesion. I think that this should be briefly mentioned: “pt. complains of pain”
- A feature of Giant Cell tumor of bone is the complaint of arthritis in a young person (20-40 yoa). I think this should be briefly mentioned: “young pt. complains of ‘arthritis'”.
- Osteosarcoma has a bimodal peak in incidence, once in 10-20 year olds associated with Retinoblastoma, and once in the elderly following Paget’s disease of bone. Without this distinction, it makes no sense so list Paget’s disease here because this rarely (if ever) occurs in patients younger than 40. I think this should be changed to:
- “Most common primary malignant tumor of bone. Peak incidence in men 10-20 years old (associated with familial retinoblastoma). Smaller second peak in elderly (associated with Paget’s disease of bone, bone infarcts, radiation). Commonly found….”
- A feature of Ewing Sarcoma is the complaint of pain and warmth over the site of the lesion. I think this should be briefly mentioned.
- P.333, Other ANCA-associated vasculitides
- In the same way that the “Lesions are of different ages” in PAN, I think it is worth mentioning that the lesions are all of the same age in microscopic polyangiitis.
- P.335, NSAIDS
- I do not understand why there is no mention of Aspirin in this section.
- P.337, Immunosuppresive agents: sites of action
- I do not understand why Tacrolimus (FK506) and Cyclosporine (CSA) are shown as having completely non-overlapping sites of action since they inhibit the exact same pathway at the exact same step (one by binding cyclophilin, the other by binding FKBP).
- I do not understand why Tacrolimus (FK506) and Cyclosporine (CSA) are shown as having completely non-overlapping sites of action since they inhibit the exact same pathway at the exact same step (one by binding cyclophilin, the other by binding FKBP).
Return to First Aid Errors page.
]]>Endocrine (all references from Merck Manual, Robbins Basic Pathology)
- P.267, Cushing’s Syndrome
- The left sidebar states that ACTH-producing tumors can be identified after a high dose of dexamethasone as having “[down arrow] cortisol.” This is not the case for ACTH-producing Small Cell Lung Cancers which do not respond to feedback inhibition of cortisol or its analogues. Instead, these tumors have the same profile in the Dex test as Cortisone-producing tumors described in the sidebar. The sidebar should be changed:
- Healthy — [down arrow] cortisol after low dose
- ACTH-producing Pituitary tumor — [up arrow] after low dose; [down arrow] after high dose
- Cortisone-producing tumor — [up arrow] after low and high doses, unilateral adrenal atrophy (or hyperplasia)
- Ectopic ACTH-producing tumor — [up arrow] after low and high doses, bilateral adrenal hyperplasia
- Iatrogenic Cortisol administration — [up arrow] after low and high doses, bilateral adrenal atrophy
- The left sidebar states that ACTH-producing tumors can be identified after a high dose of dexamethasone as having “[down arrow] cortisol.” This is not the case for ACTH-producing Small Cell Lung Cancers which do not respond to feedback inhibition of cortisol or its analogues. Instead, these tumors have the same profile in the Dex test as Cortisone-producing tumors described in the sidebar. The sidebar should be changed:
- P.269, Subacute thryoiditis (de Quervian’s)
- No mention made that this condition involves granulomatous inflammation of the thyroid, a major characteristic.
- P.269, Thyroid Cancer
- I think this section should be retitled “Thyroid Tumor” and the following bullet point added first to highlight that the majority of nodes are not malignant:
- 90% Benign, adenoma – “hot” on scintigram, Hurthle cells
- I think this section should be retitled “Thyroid Tumor” and the following bullet point added first to highlight that the majority of nodes are not malignant:
Return to First Aid Errors page.
]]>I’m going to start my own worker exchange program. I’ve got six malingering, whining, healthcare system abusing, hypochondriac, chemically dependent, Professional Victims of Life that I’ll willingly trade for three hardworking illegal Mexicans who want a shot at the American dream. They can have the jobs that these hunnert percent, by-God Murkins can’t seem to find or hold.
Second Laugh of the Day goes to Indexed:
Renal, Endocrine and Musculoskeletal First Aid sections go up Sunday night.
]]>
Every morning I work through a crossword puzzle. Typically, it will reference a few things I know and the rest I ask Google. I bookmark these things and (at night, as a reward) read through them. I hope this becomes a life-long habit. Without further ado…
The Awful German Language, by Mark Twain
This explains why, whenever a person says sie to me, I generally try to kill him, if a stranger.
I heard a Californian student in Heidelberg say, in one of his calmest moods, that he would rather decline two drinks than one German adjective.
O, horror, the Lightning has struck the Fish-basket; he sets him on Fire; see the Flame, how she licks the doomed Utensil with her red and angry Tongue.
You can begin with Schlag-ader, which means artery, and you can hang on the whole dictionary, word by word, clear through the alphabet to Schlag-wasser, which means bilge-water — and including Schlag-mutter, which means mother-in-law.
“In the daybeforeyesterdayshortlyaftereleveno’clock Night, the inthistownstandingtavern called `The Wagoner’ was downburnt.
There were so many other great lines that I had to leave for you. I couldn’t bring myself to rob you of the context.
P.S.
]]>ich habe gehabt haben worden gewesen sein, as Goethe says in his Paradise Lost — ich — ich — that is to say — ich — but let us change cars.
I’ve traveled back in time to give you some advice because right now, I’m a little pissed off. You probably don’t care (which is why you’re indulging in this “rut,” you pussy) but because you’re not going to be around to deal with the consequences, I felt the need to bring them into sharper relief:
You’re fucking up. You’re fucking it all up.
Every day you waste feeling sorry for yourself because you don’t feel “excited” or “energized by the material” is another step you’re falling behind the goals that way-past self set. Now, I think those were good goals and, frankly, I like way-past self way more than you, past self.
If you don’t stop, I’m going to kick us in the balls.
Way-way-past self spent so much time working so that we could even have this opportunity. Way-past-self understood and respected that sacrifice and carried on the tradition and I’m just waiting for you to pass me the torch so I can take us even further. So pass me the torch.
Or just sit there collecting ash on your lap, you lazy shit.
I don’t want to do anything drastic. The last time a future-self had to take the place of a past-self prematurely was in college to end the great marijuana period and to get us in shape. Not only do we not remember anything that happened while pot-self was around but that move (while necessary) came too late to get us into medical school in the US. Do you think I’m going to wait around much longer for you to get your act together before I erase you from our consciousness?
If you hadn’t read Enoch Arden yesterday, I would have already done it.
]]>
I’m in a rut. For the past five days, I’ve just been going through the motions, not really getting excited by the material or finding any joy in it. Pulmonary was boring, Renal is annoying with all of its ridiculous buzzwords and “subepithelial humps of bullshit” on electron microscopy that I can’t imagine I will ever see in my life, and this has lead me into the slow agonizing march that is endocrinology and reproduction.
I haven’t finished any of the sections. I spend a day on the embryo/anatomy/physiology, a day on the path, and a day on the pharm (if it needs it). Where cardio had me excited, doing questions in WebPath, Robbins Review of Pathology, and in the Usmle World Qbank, I’ve just limped through each day for the better part of this week.
And this is just feeding on itself. Doing well makes you want to continue doing well, and the converse is true. As it stands I look back on all the subjects that I’ve read but haven’t really “finished” and I’m thinking too much about being behind to concentrate on not falling further behind. At this point, I think the only way out is to completely skip the current section and use these days to tie up the loose ends in other subjects.
Maybe I’d rather be completely behind in one subject than a quarter behind in four subjects. Who knows. I’m just writing this here out of desperation. I need this rut to be over before it swallows more than it already has, and I thought writing it down would get it off of me.
Hope it works.
Return to USMLE Step 1 page.
]]>Pulmonary
- P.428, Oxygen-hemoglobin dissociation curve
- High altitude decreases P02 and decreases Hb saturation. This results in a decrease (or down-shift) in the dissociation curve, not a right shift as described.
- P.428, Pulmonary circulation
- While exercise does decrease the perfusion limitation, it never reaches the point of diffusion limitation i.e., the SaO2 on an athlete will almost never be lower than it is at rest.
- P.431, Obstructive lung disease (COPD)
- “[up arrow] FVC” is incorrect. RV increases, FVC is decreased or normal, FEV is decreased, TLC is increased.
- Emphysema and Asthma are both listed as having decreased I/E ratios. I assume this means Inspiration/Expiration ratio. This seems impossible as a ratio other than 1 would lead to progressive deflation and collapse of the lungs or the opposite expansion. What this should instead indicate is that in both cases, the breathing is shallow. In any steady state of respiration (including shallow breathing), I/E = 1 and the tidal volume (Vt) is lowered.
- P.431, Restrictive lung disease
- “([down arrow] VC and TLC)” should say “([down arrow] FVC and TLC)”
- P.431, Neonatal respiratory distress syndrome
- The opening description describes “lecithin” as the important surfactant. The surfactant is then described as “dipalmitoyl phosphatidylcholine .” I think everyone might benefit if this was changed to:
- Surfactant–dipalmitoyl phosphatidylcholine (DPPC, lecithin)
- The opening description describes “lecithin” as the important surfactant. The surfactant is then described as “dipalmitoyl phosphatidylcholine .” I think everyone might benefit if this was changed to:
- P.432, Obstructive vs restrictive lung disease
- The FEV1/FVC ratios are listed for Normal and Obstructive, but not Restrictive even though “>80%” was listed on the previous page. For consistency, I think it should be included here.
- The curve for “Normal” is not drawn correctly, listing a ratio of 80% but showing a ratio of 60%.
Return to First Aid Errors page.
]]>A bit of background. The ad in question showed a mechanic eating a Snickers bar. Hi co-mechanic is so desirous of the Snickers that he starts eating it from the other end of the same bar that’s already in the other guy’s mouth. The two butch guys eat their way down the bar, like the dogs eating the same string of pasta in the Disney movie – until they’re accidentally kissing. The guys, naturally, recoil in disgust – then, oddly, start ripping out their chest hair with their hands.
The conclusion that Americablog reaches (as do too many others to list) is that the add is anti-gay, hateful, and supports homophobia. This is of course followed with protests, angry letters, and blog posts calling for the withdrawal of this clearly offensive add. Here’s my interpretation:
Two mechanics accidently touch lips because Snickers is so delicious. Each, being a homophobic idiot (HI), worries that the other HI thinks that he is a homosexual. So terrified with this thought (being a HI), they each decide to prove how not gay they are by either:
- Hitting each other with wrenches
- Drinking motor oil and antifreeze
- Ripping out clumps of their chest hair while screaming
Commercial ends and we all laugh at the HIs.
Unless you are a homophobic idiot or a Moron Not Otherwise Specified, I don’t see how you were offended. Unfotunately, it’s easier to placate morons than educate them and Snickers pulled the advertisement.
MNOS or HI? You Decide.
From Worth Repeating
Messages:
1) It’s OK to beat the crap out of gay guys;
2) If you do something gay-ish, consider countering said act with self-mutilation or a hate crime;
3) Using gays as the butt of jokes is funny — and profitable!
From the Lost Remote:
The backlash was entirely predictable, and Snickers and its ad agency deserves it for being so detached from today’s reality.
He’s right, but it’s by accident. Had they test-marketed it with “real” people I’m sure they would have known this real stupid response was coming.
]]>The Angry Kid went to a “Princess Party” this past weekend. I overdosed on cheap tulle and the color pink and, to my horror, she now speaks of nothing but her own “Princess Party,” which she believes I am required to provide. Saturday night, at bedtime, the Angry Kid asked for a story. This is what she got.
A little later in the greatest fairy tale ever…
]]>Snow White sighed. “You idiot,” she declared. “There’s no such thing as magic, and wishing for things won’t make them come true. Evil, stupid Queen, get away from here and don’t come back!” With these words, Snow White raised the hammer up high, and the Queen thought Snow White was going to hit her with it. She dropped her basket of nasty apples and ran into the woods, afraid for her life. Unfortunately, she didn’t watch where she was going, and she ran right off a cliff and died.
I think the clinician’s assessment of the patient’s pain is more useful than the patient’s assessment of their own pain, as far as triage is concerned. The currently used pain scale is only helpful in assessing response to treatment (the trend). Mine is more realistic:
Scalpel’s Pain Assessment Scale
From my small experience in a hospital, I left with the strong impression that personal pain ratings are more often about what the patient wants than the level of pain the patient is experiencing. Everyone on my floor new the magic number: 7. If you’re a 7/10, you get morphine.
]]>Cardiovascular (BRS Physiology, Merck Manual and Robbins Basic Pathology)
- P.235, Myocardial action potential
- The line indicating the flow of currents omits the K+ current responsible for Phase 1, and instead shows the K+ current active midway through Phase 2. This missing current is voltage-gated, above and beyond the “leak” current shown.
- P.241, Normal Pressure
- Normal pressures for the Aorta are listed as “<130/90.” Other texts put this diastolic value at 70mmHg (leading to an aortic MAP of 90).
- P.241, Congenital Heart Disease
- “Children may squat to increase venous return” is not correct. Squatting posture is used to increase systemic vascular resistance and thereby reduce the R-L shunting seen in the Tetralogy of Fallot. Increasing venous return would increase Preload, SV, and CO from the R ventricle, exacerbating the R-L shunt that is causing the cyanosis. This should be changed to “Children may squat to increase Systemic Vascular Resistance and thereby decrease R-L shunting.”
- P.241, Congenital Heart Disease
- When discussing the L-R shunts, a brief explanation for Eisenmenger’s syndrome is given. On the very next page, this is explained much better. I think this could be shortened to “Uncorrected L-R shunts may lead to Eisenmenger’s Syndrome.”
- P.242, Tetralogy of Fallot
- The physiological explanation given should have the bold words added: “Patient leans to squat to improve symptoms: compression of femoral arteries increases Systemic Vascular Resistance, thereby decreasing the R-L shunt.”
- P.242, Transposition of great vessels
- “Not compatible with life unless a shunt is present to allow adequate mixing of blood ( e.g. VSD, PDA, or patent foramen ovale [?]” I do not understand why “patent foramen ovale” is used here since any ASD would do (e.g. foramen primum, sinus venosum). I think this should be changed to “( e.g. VSD, ASD, PDA)”
- P.243, Congenital cardiac defect associations
- After listing “22q11,” I think including “(DiGeorge)” might save people some time looking it up.
- “Aortic insufficiency” is not a congenital defect in Marfan’s. Ruptured Aortic Aneurysm is a late complication of Marfan’s, as is Mitral Insufficiency, but not one of these is present at birth and so cannot be considered “congenital.” I think this should be removed.
- P.244, Atherosclerosis
- I have attached a picture below to help people remember the incidence for plaques at each location.
- P.244, Infarcts: red vs. pale
- The liver is not listed under red infarcts but is included in the illustration. I think this should be included in the write up as well.
- The brain is listed under pale infarcts. The brain is subject to both red and pale infarcts, depending on location. Red infarcts occur in “watershed areas” where cerebral arteries overlap their supply and white infarcts where there is a single arterial supply ( e.g. the thalamus).
- P.245, Evolution of MI
- “Risk for arrhythmia” is listed under “2-4 days.” While true that most arrhythmias occur within the first 4 days, the striking example of this in sudden cardiac death is within the first few hours. This is mentioned on P.246, under “MI Complications,” but needs to be listed consistently between the two pages. I suggest adding “Sudden cardiac death from arrhythmia” after “No visible change by light microscopy in first 2-4 hours.”
- P.246, MI complications
- Bullet 4: “can lead to cardiac tamponade” is listed as an outcome of the preceding three complications of ventricular free wall rupture, iv septum rupture, and rupture of the papillary muscles. This is confusing and omits the specific outcomes associated with each. I think this should be rewritten:
- Rupture (in order of incidence):
- IV septum – L-R shunt
- Papillary muscle – severe mitral regurgitation
- Ventricular free wall – cardiac tamponade, almost always fatal.
- P.247, Heart Murmurs
- I would change both the picture and description of Mitral prolapse. The description should follow the order of events, so I feel that “ Midsystolic click followed by late systolic murmur” is less confusing than “Late systolic murmur with midsystolic click”. The picture does not show the midsystolic click . The picture shows the late systolic murmur as a mid-to-late crescendo rumbling. The murmur is more commonly listed as being “barely audible to holosystolic (after the click)”. I have attached a drawing based on the mitral valve prolapse phonocardiography available at the American Family Physician website.
- I would change both the picture and description of Aortic regurgitation. The picture shows the diastolic murmur as being a crescendo-decrescendo murmur. As the pressure in the aorta is falling down a gradient, this does not make sense. The murmur of aortic regurgitation is regularly described as an early diastolic decrescendo rumbling.
- I think this is also the appropriate time to mention the Austin Flint murmur with the following description: Pure aortic regurgitation without interference from aortic valves. Returning blood pushes against mitral valves, causing diastolic vibration mimicking Mitral stenosis. Unlike Mitral stenosis, no opening snap is present.
- I have attached pictures for both Austin Flint and Aortic Regurgitation
- P.248, Cardiac tamponade
- “Compression of heart by fluid (i.e. blood)” is incorrect as a definition. Cardiac tamponade often results from pericarditis with serous, serosanguinous, hemorrhagic, chylos, or suppurative pericardial effusions. I think it should be changed:
- “Compression of heart by fluid (e.g. blood, pericardial effusions)”
- “Equilibration of pressures in all 4 chambers” is not complete. This should say “Equilibration of diastolic pressures in all 4 chambers of the heart with intrapericardial pressure.”
- “Compression of heart by fluid (i.e. blood)” is incorrect as a definition. Cardiac tamponade often results from pericarditis with serous, serosanguinous, hemorrhagic, chylos, or suppurative pericardial effusions. I think it should be changed:
- P.249, Pericarditis
- Findings of pericarditis do not include “diffuse ST elevations in all leads.” One of the EKG hallmarks of pericarditis is “diffuse ST elevations in all leads except aVR and V1.” There is also an absence of pathologic Q waves, further helping one distinguish it from a transmural MI.
- P.250, Cardiac tumors
- Kussmaul’s sign is mentioned here but there is no mention that this occurs in any cardiac restriction ( e.g. cardiac tamponade, pericarditis). I think it is worth mentioning this with each of the previous entries, or giving it its own section:
- Kussmaul’s sign: paradoxical [up arrow] in systemic venous pressure on inspiration. Caused by pathologic [down arrow] in RV filling ( e.g. restrictive cardiomyopathy, constrictive pericarditis, right heart failure, cardiac tamponade).
- Kussmaul’s sign is mentioned here but there is no mention that this occurs in any cardiac restriction ( e.g. cardiac tamponade, pericarditis). I think it is worth mentioning this with each of the previous entries, or giving it its own section:
- P.251, Antihypertensive drugs
Captopril is listed as having “Proteinuria” as an adverse side effect. This is incorrect. By decreasing levels of angiotensin II, the efferent arteriole dilates, thereby decreasing GFR. This leads to a decrease in proteinuria. “Proteinuria” should either be omitted from the mnemonic or changed to “ Prevents proteinuria “
- P.252, Antianginal therapy
- The table says that Beta Blockers “affect afterload.” This is not true. They affect contractility . This is specifically true for the cardioselective beta blockers that would be used in cases of angina. B1 = contractility.
- Nitrates + Beta-blockers is listed as having “Little/no effect” on contractility. As B-blockers have their principle effect on contractility, I do not see how this is possible. In combination, the reflex increase in contractility seen in nitrate use would be blunted by the B-blocker and any basal sympathetic activity would also be blunted, leading to a decrease in contractility.
- P.254, Cardiac Glycosides
- To help make the hypokalemia/hyperkalemia relationship with digoxin more obvious and intuitive, I think that “Direct inhibition of Na/K ATPase” should be changed to ” Competitively inhibits Na/K ATPase at K-binding site.”
- “+ IONOtropy” should be “+ INOtropy”
- “Hypokalemia (potentiates drug’s effects),” while true, is not at play clinically. In acute digoxin toxicity, hyperkalemia results. In chronic digoxin use (or when combined with a K-wasting diuretic), hypokalemia can result and this then leads to digoxin toxicity. I think this should be rewritten:
- “hypokalemia (when combined with a diuretic), hyperkalemia (in digoxin overdose);”
- I’ve omitted the “potentiates drug’s effects” part because this is covered when we state that digoxin “competitively inhibits Na/K ATPase at K-binding site.”
- “anti-dig Fab fragments (Digibind).”
- P.257, Antiarrhythmials – Ca2+ channel blockers
- “Phase 2 (Ica and Ik)” should be “Phase 2 (Ica) and Phase 3 (Ik)”.
- P.257, Other antiarrhythmials
- “K+ — depresses ectopic pacemakers, especially in digoxin toxicity.” should be changed to “K+ — depresses ectopic pacemakers in hypokalemic digoxin toxicity.”


Return to First Aid Errors page.
]]>- Make Peace With Your Decision
- Why Transfer?
- Writing the Essay
- Which Schools Accept FMGs?
- Getting a Good Recommendation.
Mind you, the thought of publicly failing (in the pseudo-anonymous sense) does weigh on me, but I’ve made peace with it. What stops me now from continuing is the amount of interest in the topic. I don’t normally get more than 100-200 visitors a day at this tiny blog, but since I wrote the first few posts about this process, that has increased considerably.
There are many students that would like to transfer. Whether they began happily in the Caribbean and have since made the decision to transfer (as I have) or began abroad only to buff their application for this purpose, I cannot know. What I do now is that there are a lot of them and that they are looking for information.
I began writing this series because of my frustrations. While I am going through this process, I have not found the information that I want organized and readable in one place. As you may know, I am a Kantian living accordingly to the Categorical Imperative, and this dictates that I must create the things I wish I had if they have not existed for me. It sucks at times, but those are the sacrifices I have come to accept for living the life that I do.
This means that if what I write is worth a damn, it will help prepare those people with whom I am competing. I’ve long thought that if I met a few of my friends at an interview that we would exchange awkard glances before realizing that, “Hey, we both want the same thing. No use hiding it.” And for the most part, I’ve been somewhat comfortable with this. My thought has been that I am a very strong candidate and that if I am not accepted, it’s because I am really not the guy that they want and not because I’m weak on paper. If I fail, I want it to be in the interview. I want it to be me they are rejecting, and not a recorded version of my accomplishments.
I don’t know if anyone reading it realizes what an enourmous move forward that thought is for me.
So now I’m stuck. This is still anonymous, but it is not unseen. I can be found on google. These are no longer my trade secrets, and everything I share has the potential to help others and harm me (as so much as it is useful). It would be different if I was writing this retrospectively from a safer perch, but it is not and I am not. So now I must choose whether to suspend it until I have gone through it, or to continue as I progress with secrets laid bare.
Am I actually comfortable with my chances against the masses, or was I just comfortable with my chances against the masses that I knew? Will I decide to keep my advantage of information against my competition? Should they benefit from the time I spend on the phones, doing the legwork, figuring the deadlines, and creating a schedule? Am I slowly becoming part of the problem that spurred me to start a solution?
I’m still not sure.
]]>
My ass has been handed to me and these are not happy days.
I went through the Anatomy in Rapid Review: Gross and Developmental Anatomy. This book is so much fun that my roommate (after hearing a few examples of the clinical correlations therein) left to buy his own copy from the bookstore. I recommend this book twice on Sundays.
Later that day I went through Costanzo’s Physiology BRS. It’s fine, but it’s really lacking in detail. It’s a review book (I get it) but it’s a review book for the Boards. It could have brought a little more to the table (at least in Cardio). Other than claiming that baseline MAP should be 100 mmHg (instad of 93), showing ventricular volume changes on a graph during isovolumetric relaxation (wrong by definition), and showing no ventricular volume change with atrial systole (accounts for last 10% of EDV), there were no major errors. The questions are cookie-cutter and do not ask you to think a single order above the basest level of detail. I judge this section as “adequate.”
Day two was Schneider and Szanto’s Pathology BRS. I wrote about this book before and think that the chapters on basic pathology are good, and the sections on Heart and Vascular System are “okay.” Again, review book, I get it. But come on. The coverage of topics is pretty superficial and for the time I spent trying to find reasonable detail in Pocket Robbins and Merck, I could have just as easily skipped this book. While so far some sections have been better than others, the questions in the Path BRS are universally weak.
I was pretty excited to finish Anatomy, Physio and Path in two days and was scheduled to begin Pharm, but I stopped. Instead, I opened up Merck and started reading. I skipped over epidemiology and treatment regimens, but I lingered over clinical symptoms and pathology for each entry just to have a fighting chance of redoing the Cardio Pathophys in a day. I didn’t make it. It took two solid days but I don’t regret it.
The next day was for questions. First, I went to WebPath and worked through their tests. I did very well. Next I opened up Robbins Review of Pathology for their questions and, too my surprise, did well again. Feeling pretty cocky, I walked up to the 116 Phys, Path, and Pathophys questions in the USMLE WORLD qbank.
If you’ve seen Fight Club, then you’ll understand the following scene:
***
In the basement of a dank bar, the men are circled around each other and in the center, two are fighting. USMLE WORLD grabs Medstudent by the collar bone and drives his head into the student’s nose. He falls. Standing back up, he is able to land a few blows against USMLE WORLD’s jaw. He should be down, but he’s not. He’s smiling. USMLE WORLD proceedes to knock Medstudent to the ground, letting his fists drop into student’s face with a sick, wet, smacking that hides the student in his own blood. The faces of the other men hang slack, each of them uncomfortable with this particular show of brutality. The fight should have been over seven blows ago. USMLE WORLD stands up, shrugs his shoulders, and walks away. Medstudent coughs up a tooth through his nose.
“What got into you, Psycho-boy?”
“I felt like destroying something beautiful.”
***
It was the Pathophys questions that did it. I’ve learned all about Pressure-Volume loops. I thought I understood the pathogenesis and sounds of every valvular disease. And I was completely wrong. Throughout the entire, horrible experience of getting question after question incorrect, I began to realize that there was a level of detail simply lacking from what I understood that was essential to tackling these problems.
I’m reminded of what Bobby Jones said about the young Jack Nicklaus. “He plays a game with which I am unfamiliar.”
Thanks to google, I finally found the rules to the game. I could kiss Richard E. Klabunde on the mouth for creating his Cardiovascular Physiology website. It is through him that I discovered that there were not just direct effects on the PV loop due to Preload, Afterload and Contractility, but there were INTERDEPENDANT EFFECTS as well! It’s the missing move in the Rubicks Cube!
He has a book! He has another site for Cardiovascular Pharmacology!
Excuse my enthusiasm, but you have to understand: this was like Ignorance prison and I’ve just let the Physiology Jesus into my life. I’m parolled!
So not such a bad day after all. After spending two hours internalizing the PJ’s message, I took the remaining questions and fared much better. Tomorrow is Pharm, and I will let the PJ’s site be my guide (PBUHHN).
Return to USMLE Step 1 page.
]]>
People come down to the school to tell us things like, “The passing score is now 185. If you want a residency program that has empty slots each year like Internal Med or Family Practice, that score is fine. But if you want anything even mildly competitive, don’t show up with anything below 215. Don’t even bother applying. At that point, your best bet will be to sign outside of the match. Remember that there is a difference between having a score good enough for a residency and having a score good enough for a competitive program in that residency. It is always better to have a better score, regardless of your goals.”
In light of all of this, I’m going to state my goals and try to put everything that I’ve written about my preparation into context. When I say that the BRS questions are weak or that for a certain book the topic was covered superficially, I mean that it was weak and superficial for what I want to do. I do not want to just pass the Boards. I don’t even want a high pass. I am locking myself in a library every day to score above the 95th percentile. If you glazed over a subject, feel weak in it, and could use a stepping stool to competency, then the BRS Path (for example) is fine. But if you’re reaching for the brass ring, you should just sit down with Pocket Robbins or the Merck Manual and take the time to really get into it.
Yes. I know that you know a guy that barely studied and got a 99. Yes. There was a guy that did nothing but review the First Aid and he also got a 99. If you’re going to be the kind of doctor whose decisions are swayed by anecdotes like this, then you probably need to review Epidemiology and Study design. As far as I go, I’m not willing to follow their examples because, regardless of what they accomplished, I’m not that guy and you probably aren’t either. So let’s just dispense with the bare bones approach.
Reviewing this stuff (cramming) without achieving deep understanding at each level (internalizing) is like renting an apartment for a month at a time when you know you’re living in the neighborhood for the next ten years. Why waste your money? Instead of paying just enough each month, it’s worth it to go into debt (time-wise) to own it. Every day after that, the investment pays for itself, but you have to make it that first time. I’m not here to rent the knowledge; I’m here to own it, and every criticism I ever make of review materials is in that light.
There are books that I’m going to really like because of their incredible (but necessary) detail or because they are exceptionally well-written. There will be books that I trash for being riddled with errors and grammar mistakes or for being superficial to the point of uselessness. But whatever conclusions I reach, yours may be different because of time constraints (I have the luxury of two months) or learning style (in the eyes and it stays, in the ears and its out the other).
State your goals. Have a plan. Set a Schedule. Buy your books. Pick a QBank. Don’t crack. Have fun.
***
I think it’s now worth saying that of all the things I’ve done so far, bringing the Merck Manual to the library every day has been the best decision. I left it at home one day because it was taking up too much space. I am never doing that again. Pound for pound, I don’t own anything more useful. In fact, I’ve decided that from now on I will rate everything in units of Merck. Let’s establish a scale:
18th Ed. Merck Manual = 100 Mercks = highest rating.
Dudeck’s HY Cell and Molecular Biology = 1 Merck
“Dudeck” might be its own scale, sort of an inverse to utility… like a feacalith.
Return to USMLE Step 1 page.
]]>We are studying at the University of Cinicinnati medical school library. It’s six stories tall with walls of glass, no furniture, and doors at both ends to let the heat out with everyone’s smoke break. We shiver underneath our long underwear, hats, fleeces, coats, scarfs and mittens. Since coming, I have spent $200 on layers. Not clothes; layers. If it weren’t for the desks, I’d study in the Thatcher’s front lawn and save the drive. We put in ten hours at the library, come home for dinner, and put in another three hours before bed. Saturday is not different from Wednesday. My week is seven Studydays in a row and I guess I wasn’t that surprised that I forgot about my own birth. C’est la vie.
We’re here more than any of the medical students, and people are getting curious. We’re learning names as they stop by to size us. Tim is my favorite. Tim’s skin is taught across his face, revealing the bug-eyed intensity that drives him to walk fitfully, arrange everything on his desk perpendicularly with one inch margins between objects, and has him sniffing around wondering why we’re sitting in the spot that he has clearly sprayed with his urine. Tim’s obituary will include the fragments “26,” “dedicated to helping people,” and “massive heart attack.” We really like Tim.
Then there’s Puss n Boots. If you’re reading this PnB, I love you.
The rumors have circled and everyone knows we’re from SGU. A few students stopped by for help with Pathology and Physiology, and we took some pride in being “the guys from Grenada who probably know the answer.” We’re wearing it on our sleeves. Our SGU sweatshirt sleeves. I guess I owe you that story too.
Kelly and I loved SGU and our time in Grenada. For my money, I’ve never lived so well and my life was never so rewarding and simple: wake up, learn things, sleep. Also tan. Like anyone proud of his school, we both wanted SGU tshirts and sweatshirts to wear back home and around campus. Problem was that the SGU bookstore didn’t carry things you’d want to wear and their prices made sure of it. Trying to change the world, Kelly and I contacted the main offices with ideas for shirts. Six months later, nothing had happened.
So we were in St. Vincent at this point with no bookstore and no chance to buy these shirts. “You know, we could just make them ourselves and sell them to people.” I looked at Kelly like he had two heads. “My brothers and I did it all the time. It’ll work.” So with that, Kelly and I searched the island for a tshirt printer, made a few designs on our computer, and did some market testing. Once we settled on a design and colors, we started paying people that were traveling to the US to fill oversized suitcases with cheap clothing. After a few rounds of this, we had the merchandise, the design, and the means. We invested $1000 of our loan money into the project and began selling them in class to students, faculty, staff, anyone.
We ran deals on buying three shirts at a time. We took custom orders for new shipments. We had all sizes, all colors, a cash drawer and a functioning inventory. We cleared an obscene amount of money and still managed to sell them for less than the bookstore in Grenada was charging. Illegal? Not in the Caribbean, mon. The profits paid for our rent and utilities for almost three months. Good times all around.
Back in the library, in what was turning into a pretty decent birthday, Deathmetal came by. Deathmetal is the skinny kid that plopped down for an early dinner in the library, put in his headphones, and proceeded to blast Metallica so loud that I could hear every lyric and sweet guitar lick from thirty feet away. Everyone stopped what they were doing to stare at him, waiting for him to figure it out. Each of them, so miserable being so polite. The pageantry was killing me. It was like a priest farted in church, was how hard it was to suppress my laughter right then. My schoolgirl giggling got Deathmetal’s attention and he looked at me with a question mark on his forehead. How he heard me, I don’t know. Guy’s got to be deaf from the volume.
I had his attention; what could I do?
I COULD ROCK. Slow at first, I began to lip sync every lyric as I heard it and began pantomiming Lars Ulrich’s thundering drum set. I didn’t half-ass this either; I could have been at a bachelor’s party three beers away from a canceled wedding for how committed I was to this performance. It was glorious. It took a few beats for him to realize that (a) I could hear his music and (b) this was inconsistent with the intention of earphones. He stopped the song, looked around, and sorry’d us. We laughed so hard after that, I thought I’d get sore.
I went to bed that night surprised to be 25 and totally oblivious to the fact that I had no missed calls on my phone as I set its alarm.
The next morning was the same as all the others. The day in the library the same as all the others. It was Studyday, just like last Studyday. It was not untill I came home and checked my email that I saw a few well wishes, and none of them belated. I went downstairs to see if the envelope from my parents had arrived a day late as my dad had promised (no luck). I then headed upstairs to see eight missed phone calls. I checked the date on my computer: Jan 30th, 2007. 8:40 pm.
Mrs. Thatcher had gotten the date wrong and I hadn’t realized it. This meant that twice in two days (in the same year) I had forgotten my birthday. I never thought I would be THAT guy. I told her and Kelly and we all had a nice laugh, but really I was feeling pretty disoriented. I guess I had it coming the next morning.
Half-asleep at 7am, I walk downstairs to eat my porridge. Mrs. Thatcher walks up to me, gives me a big hug and says, “Merry Christmas, Topher.”
har.
]]>verb: Oh yeah?! Well FOAD!
adjective: Well that was a foad way to say it.
present participle: By the grace of God, he’s foading.
The Fuck Off And Die competition starts today! Conceived by the Dinosaur, it’s a competition between writers to write the best FOAD letter without letting the receiver know it. Tact misapplied, if you will.
From the Dinosaur:
Alternative post titles were:
- Lessons from my Father
- How to Say “Fuck You” So Elegantly They Don’t Even Know You’ve Said It
Inspired by Medblog Addict, #1 Dinosaur would like to announce a contest to see who can write the classiest “Screw You” letter. First prize is a copy of my book (which includes disclosure of my true identity.)
I am participating in the contest and, while I won’t tell you which is mine, I encourage you to vote for it. There will be five new FOADs each day for a week. For my money, this is the best one ever written:
“I am sitting in the smallest room of my house with your letter before me. Soon it will be behind me.” — Voltaire to Morat
Laugh today, topher.
]]>“This” is 8-5 studying every day at the University of Cincinnati medical school atrium with all of the other medstudents, each of us shivering underneath our long underwear, hats, fleeces, coats, scarfs and mittens; each of us cursing the smokers for opening the door to the outside world every few minutes to the point were we’re thinking, “Fuck it, I might as well have a smoke;” each of us staring at the page with all the fun facts that make all of this worth the shaking.
I take breaks every half hour to run my hands in the warm, warm bathroom faucet just so I can take more notes. Yesterday, I bought two cups of coffee at the same time: one to drink and the other to hold. I say again:
This, truly, is the greatest thing I could be doing right now.
Everything is so interesting, that I’m slowing waaaay down in sections where time will not permit. Microbiology, for instance. I was so caught up in seeing patterns between the bugs and the drugs that I let it eat into virus-time. So now, I have to create two free days that don’t exist and I’m re-living an old problem born of my unchecked enthusiasm.
Falling behind means knowing less.
Excuse my hubris, but I was trying to be the first to avoid this. I am taking 9 weeks were others take 7. I could have sworn it’d be enough. Parkinson, however, couldn’t care less. I give you his Law: “work expands so as to fill the time available for its completion.” Truer words, truer words. But that’s not an option. I’m not postponing my test to allow time to catch-up. I’m not going to drop other interests like writing about this experience. I’m not going to learn less. Something’s got to give.
It’s probably appropriate, then, to introduce a new law.
Medical Student’s Law: “Sleep contracts as work expands.”
High Yield: S = (1/W)
Return to USMLE Step 1 page.
]]>Kevin M.D. posted this under the heading “Health Care is Absolutely Not a Right.” The comments that follow are fascinating, and I would encourage everyone to read through them.
This is the fundamental philosophical difference between what I (and others) believe and the stance of the single-payer supporters. Thanks GruntDoc for linking to the money quote:
As with any good or service that is provided by some specific group of men, if you try to make its possession by all a right, you thereby enslave the providers of the service, wreck the service, and end up depriving the very consumers you are supposed to be helping. To call “medical care” a right will merely enslave the doctors and thus destroy the quality of medical care in this country, as socialized medicine has done around the world . . .
The debate that followed in the comments circled around the EMTALA law, which mandates that any hospital must accept emergency medical cases, regardless of ability to pay. Hospitals abide by this law at considerable loss because the governement has threatened to remove funding for any hospital that does not. This would mean loss of Medicare, Medicaid, etc. One poster, Okulus, had the best comment:
In my view EMTALA is bad law. It mandates services under the threat of withdrawal of funding for unrelated services, which is extortion, particularly given that the taxpayers are providing that funding. (No different than threatening to take away a state’s allocation for highway subsidies if that state fails to comply with an unfunded mandate regarding education). Certainly I have a right to vote for candidates who want to repeal EMTALA. But even if I didn’t, that does not make EMTALA any more a good law. And it doesn’t make expropriation of services a right.
So is health insurance a right? Of course not. It is neither a de facto nor de jure right. And neither is postal service or 911 ambulance service or sewage disposal. They are services, available to the public when the public chooses to pay for them, and the converse when not. Any one of them could be here today and gone tomorrow, unlike real rights, which are far more durable.
So with the link to Graham Azon’s blog as the “single-payer supporter,” he responded with a two-parter (1)(2). These excerpts are truncated, so for his full argument you should visit his site:
Honestly, I think many people in the media use “socialized medicine” as a scare term, a blanket term for any sort of “government” health care. If that’s how you’re using it, fine, but if you’re presenting information as policy arguments, you sound a little sophomoric if you use it incorrectly. (This is like referring to the rectum as “the poop chute.”)
Socialized medicine is what the UK has.
Socialized insurance is what Canada has.
“Pay or play” is an employer-based system, where employers either have to offer coverage, or contribute to a fund to provide coverage to the uninsured.
***
From where I’m standing, then, if we’re going to take care of the acutely ill, we might as well keep societal costs lower by preventing people from becoming acutely ill (or from developing the consequences of chronic illness). Am I crazy? Am I missing something here? You can’t tell me that our system makes sense in this way. We will allow an uninsured diabetic to go years without any preventive care, because lack of ability to pay, but once his foot becomes necrotic and he needs an amputation, and gets an ICU stay for becoming septic–oh well, let’s definitely pay for that!?
Look, if you have a problem with the “political feasibility” of single-payer, that’s fine, we can debate that. If you’re weary of allowing a government entity to set all health care reimbursement, that’s fine, we can debate that. But to stick your thumbs in your ears and ignore that we’re already ready to pay for emergency care, because of the consequences of the alternative is just stupid, plain and simple.
So, what’s your better solution?
So from all of this, it strikes me that people are either holding steadfast to their philosophy that no resource can be mandated as a right (as that necessarily limits the rights of those providing the service), or they are holding steadfast to their pragmatism (that leaving people with their injuries because they cannot pay is not something that we are comfortable with as a society, so let’s fix that). I like Graham’s challenge though: what is the better solution?
So here’s mine.
FUND EMTALA. The Emergency Treatment and Labor Law was enacted in 1986 as a response to the act of “patient-dumping” by hospitals. In essence, the statute:
- imposes an affirmative obligation on the part of the hospital to provide a medical screening examination to determine whether an “emergency medical condition” exists;
- imposes restrictions on transfers of persons who exhibit an “emergency medical condition” or are in active labor, which restrictions may or may not be limited to transfers made for economic reasons;
- imposes an affirmative duty to institute treatment if an “emergency medical condition” does exist.
That last bullet point costs money. Lots of money. Where does it come from? EMTALA is an unfunded mandate, meaning that it was decided that providing medical care was so important that it required a law to be passed to ensure it, but not important enough to be supported financially. The weight of this law rests inapprpriately on the hospital, not where it belongs on the taxpayers whose interests are represented in Congress. Why would any hospital agree to this? The guillitoine of severed Medicare payments should they not comply.
Unless you run a hospital, why should you care? Imagine a hospital that is running without making a profit. They make enough money to cover all of their expenses and meet all of their salaries. Everything is only as expensive as it needs to be and all the prices charged are fair. If this hospital had to abide by EMTALA, it will begin to lose money. It’s options at this point are to ignore EMTALA (in which case it loses money anyway as the governemnt withdraws payments for patients on Medicare), go bankrupt and close (happens way more often than you think), or make up the loss by charging paying customers more.
I give you the $10 tylenol. Now we can debate the many factors for the rising costs of health care until we’re too dead for it to matter, but the fact that a hospital that abides by EMTALA must then overcharge paying customers is inescapable. It is also unfair. If you cannot pay for your own healthcare (and receive it anyway because of this law), then you are making healthcare more expensive for those that can pay. If this doesn’t happen, then the hospital closes and you’ve not only lost that resource, but you’ve stressed the remainging hospitals that now experience increased patient loads.
I give you a downward spiral. So for anyone that will ever need hospital care, this does matter. The solution seems pretty straightforward to me, and that is to reimburse the hospitals for their costs. It makes no sense to demand that hospitals pay for your service so that it is free to you. If we are as serious about giving everyone care in an emergency regardless of insurance as we claim to be, then that requires a serious sacrifice on our parts. Our taxes are going to increase. You will have, in effect, given universal accident insurance to the nation.
The details of payment can be left to the hospitals and lawyers to discuss, but the hospital should be able to demonstrate its expenses and the US government should send a check in the mail. So that’s my first solution: fund EMTALA.
Of course, what happens next would be interesting. If hospitals were able to do this and still saw all of the current cases in the ER, they would likely welcome the non-emergency cases that they currently detest. If the governement (and by that I mean all 300 million of us) were to see the bill, there would likely be some sticker shock. “We can’t afford to fund EMTALA,” we’d realize. “We’ve got to figure out a way to keep these non-emergency cases out of the ERs,” we’d decide. And it’s because we would likely be pushed into this future that I like Graham’s second point.
To paraphrase, emergency cases cost a lot of money, and these emergencies are sometimes the result of an uncontrolled chronic condition (amputation of a diabetic’s foot) that could have been prevented at a much lower cost. So if we’re going to have a funded EMTALA with effective universal accident insurance, wouldn’t the taxpayers save even more money with universal and comprehensive medical insurance?
I stumble with his conclusion. Not every American presents to the ER, and while providing preventative care for the person that does would save tax dollars, I can’t know which person’s preventative treatment to target. In other words, universal medical insurance has perfect sensitivity but poor specificity. It seems to me that any preventative measures should be specifically targeted and if that was truly cheaper the investment would be worthwhile.
Joe Paduda at Managed Care matters has a good point and I’ll let him have the last word. He’s absolutely right that we have to define our goals and these have to be in line with our principles. So in the interest of openness, I’ll be very specific about mine:
No one can claim a right to anyone’s service. It follows, then, that health care is not a right, but a want. It also follows that the weight of any proposed solution should fall on the backs of those who benefit (the tax payers) and not on the backs of those that provide it (hospitals, physicians).
No one can arbitrarily decide the worth of a service. By capping what a physician (lawyer, artist, whomever) can charge for his service, you are robbing him of his value and destroying the distinction between good and bad service by removing its incentive. It is for markets to decide what a service is worth, not governments.
I am open to (and would support) any program that successfully makes health care more accessible while not conflicting with these first principles. It remains to be seen if Single Payer is the solution to this, and I think everyone is going to be very interested with the results from the single-payer experiments in Main, Mass, Maryland, etc.
Joe Paduda’s last word at Managed Care Matters
]]>What are we trying to accomplish with health care reform?
Lower costs today? A sustainable trend rate so care is affordable for the foreseeable future? Better outcomes, defined as healthier people and/or fewer avoidable deaths and/or higher levels of functionality? Coverage for all so no one goes without? Equitable reimbursement? Less interference in the doctor-patient relationship? Greater self-responsibility on the part of consumers? A reduced financial burden on employers, especially small ones and really big ones with lots of retirees? Ever healthier, longer-lived citizens?
All of the above?
]]>I gotta confess…I love it all. Aside from my professed world-weariness and cynicism, this is what I was born to do. So if you want a real Day In The Life of An Ambulance Driver, here is what we REALLY do…
We make far less money than our health care brethren with similar education. And the sad fact is, a whole lot of us do not even deserve the pittance we’re making.
We bitch and moan about low pay, yet we steadfastly oppose any attempt to advance our profession through higher educational standards.
We make a Big Deal of the whole lifesaving myth, smugly convinced of our own inflated sense of worth, yet we ignore the actions of the untrained bystander who probably made the greater difference.
We eat our own young.
After using it for almost a month, I can say a few non-comparative things.
It’s fair. I haven’t had a question yet where I felt the wording was ambiguous or the answer was a stretch. Every time that I have looked at the options and thought to myself, “I have no idea,” it was because I really didn’t know (instead of knowing the answer and not knowing how to apply it).
It’s interesting. Each question has a full explanation (usually with an illustration or table) for right and wrong choices with a summary “Learning Objective” at the bottom. This is just a smart thing for the company to do, as every wrong answer leads to a new concept learned. I regularly go through my incorrect responses and copy down the new objective into my notes.
It’s hard. While at SGU, my favorite tests were in Pathology. Whoever wrote those tests was a sadist of the fourth order. For example:
- The test stem would have symptoms. [appendicitis with Hx of appendectomy]
- You’d have to figure out the disease. [Crohn’s]
- You’d then have to realize what the appropriate treatment was. [Cortisol]
- You’d have to know the side effects of that treatment. [abd striae, bull neck]
- Finally, you can answer the question: Given this patient’s symptoms, what is the most likely side effect of his treatment? [weight gain]
Everyone complained about how hard those tests were, but I had been waiting for that type of challenge in a course my whole life. I loved those tests, and for similar reasons, I love the questions in the UW Qbank. There have been a few times where, after reading a question and figuring out the answer have thought, “That was the coolest way I have ever seen that asked.” I couldn’t give it higher praise.
If you’ve decided to use UW and are working through the questions, it might help to know how you’re doing. With each question, it will tell you the percentage of people that answer it correctly. With each subject, it will tell you your percentile against other test takers. Useful, right? I’m having a few problems with this.
The stat for “percentage that answer correctly” doesn’t say if that is on the first try or includes all attempts, including repeats. I wish there was a separate statistic for this. Your overall percentile is based on your test average against the mob, but again this can be manipulated by taking the same questions over and over (I’ve tested this myself). For the person going through the questions once without repeating, you may feel that your percentile is a little low (or just hope that it is).
Here are my percentiles on first past through all the available questions in a section. I will expand this list as I continue to cover material. You’ll notice that the scores are very low. As I mentioned before, these aren’t true percentiles as they are not compared against the mob’s first attempt and I list them here just so that people don’t feel so defeated when they take the questions themselves.
- Biostatistics (74th) – I felt very well prepared
- Behavioral Science (waiting to do Psych until later)
- Embryology (71st) – I felt well prepared
- Genetics (48th) – Curse you, Dudek and your horrible book.
- Biochemistry (79th) – I felt very well prepared
- Immunology (70th) – I felt well prepared
- Histology (32nd) – I wrote this off. Maybe I should look at it.
- Anatomy (74th) – Just for fun. I’m an Anatomy geek.
ADDENDUM: I sent an email to the USMLE WORLD team about these questions and I was pleasently surprised to see them respond the next day.
The “percentage that answer correctly” only records the first attempt of the user if the question in taken in the unused mode.
The cumulative performance is based on the entire test percentage and you are correct in assuming that the percentile might be manipulated if a person repeatedly takes the test and answers all the questions correctly. However for the percentile to skew greatly, a large number of users will have to “cheat” the system this way by repeatedly taking the same questions.
However, most of our users take the test first in unused mode and then they use other modes like incorrect or marked questions if they have sufficient time left. This might skew their overall percent by 2-3 % but over a significantly large data set this offset becomes negligible.
Hence, the presented percentile should only be used as a rough indication of where the user stands and preferably should be ignored during the initial tests.
Return to USMLE Step 1 page.
]]>I’ve griped before about not knowing how to handle this period of studying for the USMLE. What I have really meant is that I don’t trust anyone else’s advice and insist on screwing up a little before getting it right.
“You’ve bought too many books, you’ll never read all of those.”
“I never did a single question and got a 99.”
“Just stick with First Aid. It’s all you need.”
“You don’t have to study Emrbyo. There were hardly any Embryo questions on the test.”
“Do nothing but questions. Questions, questions, questions.”
“Man! There were a lot of Emrbyo questions! It’s definitely high yield.”
I still believe now what I believed before: that I have one shot at this test (I have no intention of failing it). In statistical parlance, this means that n=1 and df=0. You cannot draw conclusions from that study. People peddling specific advice to you forget this. Both people that stopped me in the library with their two cents about Emrbyo forgot this. And I will slowly forget this.
Since I broke up the subjects into General and Systems (the organization of the 2007 First Aid), I’ve tried to work on each section a little differently to see what is working. So after Biostats, Behavioral, Embryo, Biochem, Immuno, Autonomic Pharm, Basic Path and Micro, n=8. What follows is a breif chronical of my personal mistakes.
Biostatistics – 1 day
I read through the First Aid section briefly before slowly going through my old notes. I then opened up the Kaplan Lecture notes and read their Biostats section. For the first time, I started to notice that there were disagreements between sources. This sort of thing drives me mad, so I would often waste ten minutes on a piece of minutia to protect the house of cards. I then read the HY Biostatistics by Glaser. It was, by far, the best thing out there. I can’t say enough nice things about this excellent book. Finally, I took out a few pieces of paper and wrote a few pages of notes that I will later use to refresh the week before the test. I spent too much time on this section. I should have just used HY Biostats and taken my notes straight from it. Could have saved half a day.
Behavioral Science – 2 days
Going in, I am less than enthusiastic. Behavioral Science has always felt a little soft and doesn’t lend itself to learning a few core principles and then extrapolating the rest. It’s low yield. I start with Kaplan. It’s overkill. All of the epidemiology is over the top and I am falling asleep. Many of the tables and charts start to conflict with each other (two sentences each claiming different #1 killers for this or that) and I pitch it. After taking a look at the First Aid, I’m desperate to believe that there isn’t much I need to know as I finally turn to the HY Behavioral by Fadem. Everything is compact, well explained, and of a manageable size. This is what I wanted from the beginning. I take all of my notes for later review from this book and move on.
Embryology – 2 days
I wanted to work on Embryo as its own topic, and in the Kaplan notes it is intertwined with each system under Anatomy. Trying to learn from the previous three days, I head straight for the HY Embryo by Dudek (the BRS is also written by Dudek). This book is long, filled with pictures, and weighs in at 177 pages. I really liked this book for its clear explanations. There were several shaky concepts that were finally made clear (meiosis v mitosis, I’m embarassed to say) and it was worth the investment. It was detail heavy, but not to the point of being irrelevant and included plenty of pages devoted to genetic disease. All of this ended up tying in neatly with Biochem, so I consider it time well spent. Two days is a lot to devote to this, but I figured it was worth it on the assumption that it would help me make more connections down the road. I took all my notes onto Post-Its and put them in the First Aid section. I would do this the same way again.
Cell and Molecular Bio – 2 days
At SGU, genetics was a sort of half-assed course. Unfortunate, because I love this stuff and was completely put off at the time. I tried to repeat the success of Embryo with the HY Cell and Molecular Biology book by Dudek.
What trash.
This book has a bizarre number of typographical, illustrative, and conceptual errors. To be sure, there were some bright spots. The first chapter on cell signaling is fantastic and chapter 10: The Human Nuclear Genome was just fascinating, but I spent so much time trying to fact-check this book (after you find one error, you find another, and another) that I reached the point where I just couldn’t trust it any more. It’s largely cobbled together from his other books (almost twenty pages are straight from his HY Embryo) and the patchwork shows. This book was far from high yield and cost me two days before I gave up. I would never recommend it. I decide to cut my losses (Chapter 17 of 27) and go to the next topic.
Biochemistry – 5 days
I spent the first two days doing nothing but looking at the First Aid and reading through the corresponding notes from my first year. At the time, we were using Lipincott’s Illustrated Biochemistry, so having the book next to me made it easy to make sense of my chicken-scratch. I was cruising through the topic, confident, and then an amazing thing happened: I realized how much I didn’t know. You forget about it at the time, but going through Lipincott in first year, every term is alien, every disease and drug tie-in is ignored, and you’re happy to just get a “feel” for what’s going on. The second time around, it’s like seeing the world with new eyes. You understand every reference and all the things that haven’t made sense in other courses are finally connected. It was relevatory. I had originally planned to skim this book but finally decided to reread the whole thing. I didn’t have time to take any formal notes for later review (the Fed-Fast chapters were too engrossing), so I’ll have to carve this out later. This was also the weakest section in the First Aid, and I found myself wasting valuable time fact-checking Lipincott against First Aid against other texts to keep my head on straight.
If I had it to do again, I would have read through my old notes once, and then started on the book. I would have then used the two days that I wasted on Dudek’s HY Cell and Micro to write some review sheets. Oh well. My roommate spent the entire period going through Kaplan’s notes and had positive things to say. I wish I could confirm, but I ran out of time.
Immunology – 2 days
This was another SGU course that fell short for me. Fortunately, you can’t escape it, so that I didn’t learn it formally didn’t stop me from picking it up in Micro, Path, Pathophys, and Pharmacology of Immunosuppression. To get a feel for the scope, I cruised through First Aid and found that I had already covered a great deal of the material in Dudek’s HY Embryo. At this point, I’ve stopped looking at Kaplan all together. I went through the first four chapters of Rapid Review: Immunology and Microbiology. It is bare bones. They make it very obvious what they think is important and I did manage to make some new connections in these chapters, but it was not good enough to be a stand alone. There were several things (like lymph tissue anatomy) that were covered more in depth in the First Aid. I didn’t think that was possible, but there you have it. Between the two of them, I was reintroduced to everything that I saw in Path and my bases are covered. I even had time to take some good review notes for later. For the material I covered, I spent too much time in this book. That said, I didn’t have the time to read a proper text, so, c’est la vie.
Pathology of Neoplasia and Inflammation – 1 day
Path, how I’ve missed you. I’ve been looking forward to cracking open my brand new beautiful Path BRS since the day I bought it, and it was hard to limit myself to these two sections. I like the layout of the book, that the pages are thick enough that highlighter doesn’t bleed through (a previous problem), and the pace. The questions at the end of each chapter are inappropriately easy, which disappoints me. The subject came as a welcome break and I took one page of notes from the BRS and the First Aid.
Pharmacodynamics, kinetics, and ANS – 3 days
I started by reading the sparse entry in the First Aid on dynamics and kinetics before opening my Pharmacology for the Boards and Wards book. It covers these topics in the first 12 pages. It took my three hours. I’m probably just dense, but I didn’t feel this was well presented in either place, so if you already understand the topic, then FA might be enough. I floundered in this, but by the end was happy with my understanding. That left two days to cover autonomic pharmacology. That might have been enough, but the pace to date was too exhausting, and my roommate and I decided to quit for a day and recharge. It was necessary and we felt like a million bucks, but this means that I haven’t covered adrenergic drugs yet and will have to make it up later. If I had this to do over again, I would have traveled back in time and learned it correctly the first time. I also wouldn’t have tried to plow through three weeks of work without a single day off. Live and Learn.
I took a look at the Kaplan pharm section, and they have some very interesting pictures and graphs for conveying difficult topics. There pictures on the effects of cholinergics and adrenergics on the heart rate and BP are amazing, and the picture showing the ionization of drugs in the urine at varying pHs and resulting excretion is one of the most amazing pictures I have ever seen. As Pharm for the Boards and Wards is frustratingly filled with errors, I think I’ll switch over to Kaplan’s pharm when it comes to the systems.
Microbiology – 8 days
This is our first big topic, one of our weakest topics (competing with Pharm), and something I was afraid to begin. I decided to take a completely different approach and this has been the most successful to date.
I read the basic information in my main text, the RR: Immuno and Micro. Although it was painful to admit, I had to relearn about gram negative, positive, and the differences therein. After making some very basic notes, I used the FA bacteria-trees for gram positive and gram negative bacteria. I then wrote out all of the toxins for each bug and came up with some mnemonics for them. This would be my base. I spent the rest of the day writing the best notes that I could, trying to combine all the relevant information from the FA and the RR so that I would never have to look at either again. This took all day.
The next day I spent the first two hours trying to recreate the list of toxins from memory and draw the bacteria trees from memory. I accomplished this by noon. For the next two days, I did nothing but read about antibacterial drugs, their mechanisms, targets, and side effects. Every morning I would reread the notes I had made from the previous day until they were almost second nature. I tweaked my mnemonics.
By the time I had to sit down and learn about each bacteria, I found I knew almost everything I needed to simply from the drugs, the bacteria tree, and their toxins. Everything new that I was reading fell neatly into my pre-existing framework and this made everything before and after more solid for me. All in all, I spent four days on the bacteria alone, two days on viruses, and two days covering the remainder (protozoa, helminths, fungi). Nothing I have done has worked out so well.
Because the pharm section in the RR is small, I had to supplement it with the FA (suprisingly complete) and the Boards and Wards book (this section wasn’t too bad).
General Reference Book
Of all my decisions so far, the best one has been to have the Merck Manual with me at all times. It covers Micro, Pharm dynamics and kinetics, Path, Phys, EVERYTHING. It has been the great oracle whenever my review books conflicted and I would be lost without it. Of course, you could always study with your computer on and the internet running, but that would be a disaster for me. Instead, I keep my focus and have this book in front of me at all times
So what have I learned?
Less is more. Some books should generate automatic refunds for all the mistakes in them, and I would have done much more research on reviews before buying many of them (as it was, I went by First Aid’s recommendations alone). Instead of finding one incredibly solid book for each section, I have at least two books for every section (considering Kaplan) and sometimes three (Pharm, Path). This has been a mistake so far and one I’ll try to avoid as we enter systems.
First Aid is not enough. It has errors and will not give you an understanding of the topics. The First Aid is for someone that already knows everything and is looking for reinforcement and an idea of concepts previously tested. While it may be true that most questions you’ll see have their answers in the FA, that’s a far cry from being able to say that the FA helped me answer all the questions. After you read it, you’ll understand what I mean.
Repetition goes a long way. I find that writing out the information and making my own set of notes has worked for every class I have taken in medical school and this is no different. To paraphrase the late Frank Netter, “you can’t lie in a painting.” I feel the same way about writing: the things that are unclear to you become obvious when you try to take notes. It is, however, incredibly time consuming and I’m 3/4 towards my very own carpel tunnel syndrome. I’ve also found that taking notes on a piece of paper folded down the center is helpful, with prompts on the left and the information hidden on the right. It’s an idea stolen from teh Cornell method of note-taking, and it makes it very hard to lie to yourself as you read something that, “yeah, I remember that.”
When the answer is hidden, there’s no way to fake it.
So if you believe my experience, here’s what you keep and what you throw away from my original list:
- HY Biostatistics (great)
- HY Behavioral (great)
- HY Embryo (for the motivated student)
- HY Cell and Molecular (trash, don’t buy)
- Lipincott’s Biochem (long, great if it was your text book. Might want to consider Mark’s BRS)
- Pathology BRS (great)
- Pharmacology for the Boards and Wards (look for something better)
- RR: Immunology and Microbiology (Straight to the point, no frills)
- Kaplan lecture notes (Biochem and Pharm are strong sections. Biostats and Behavioral are weak. A wash).
- Merck Manual (my rock)
Hope it helps, topher.
Return to USMLE Step 1 page.
]]>Battling a sinus infection. The notes were few from my standardized pelvic exam. The major good one was “Good pressure!” The bad one was “Must learn to avoid clitoris.”
If only they knew how many years of conditioning I’m working against.
Empathy training is the latest fad to hit medical school. Large quantities of your time will be wasted on this sort of thing. I didn’t dislike empathy training. In fact, because it is so non-rigorous and intellectually vaccuous it provided a pleasant distraction from the usual boring lectures. What’s not to like about sitting in a circle listening to some idiot drone on about the wonderful things you are going to do for your patients once you learn to relate to them? It was even more entertaining to listen to the small minority of students who take this kind of thing seriously and wax orgasmic about making a difference and touching the lives of patients.
Welcome to med school hell. This is a blog about my life as a medical student and the “truth” about medical training. I thought I’d get started with a little introduction.
I’m a senior medical student training in the US. I hate medical school with a burning passion like I have never before felt. In future posts, you’ll get to share what it’s like to be in my shoes on the wards. You’ll get to really experience what it’s like to be a medical student or a physician in training. You won’t hear any pansy-ass crap, basically because I don’t give a fuck. You’ll hear it like it is, and I promise I won’t hold anything back.
The administration hates me about as much as I hate the school that pays their salary. I tell it like it is, and they don’t like that. They really don’t know how to take it. I’m more C=MD and FYIGML than they have ever seen. I walk by the Dean and he thinks “that’s the guy who doesn’t give a fuck.” Yep, that’s me.
I can feel his blue eyes locking onto my own with a grip I’ve not experienced outside a battlefield. They are not the eyes of the desperate dying, they are the eyes of someone who knows exactly what he is doing and exactly what he is saying. I’ve seen that look in someone’s eyes before. Mr. Smith isn’t giving me advice, he’s giving me an order.
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I’m just going to assume that I feel the way most people do about the unknown: I don’t like it. Even though I’ve known about this test for two years, it still feels like it’s springing up on me and I’m frantically trying to prepare.
What’s on it? Where there a lot of Biochem questions or was Neuro more stressed? Were the Path questions hard? And on, and on.
For most of us, it’s also the first time we’ve ever taken a test like this on a computer. Like most, I have my habits of underlining key words in a question stem, putting *’s by things that I have to skip now but may get later, putting an “X” next to a question that I could never answer correctly, etc. That I’ll be staring at a mouse, keyboard and glowing screen on test day is an unnerving thought.
To get over all of this, we look for practice questions. The good news is that there are thousands of practice questions on Al Gore’s internet and the companies worth their salt have some great supporting software. There are free questions and expensive questions and you get what you pay for. Let’s look at some free/semi-free sources first.
Free/Semi-free sites
- Official USMLE tutorial and practice questions (2007)
- Gives you four blocks of 50 questions for practice with the testing interface FRED. No explanations for answers and reviewing your questions is awkward.
- Tulane’s Medical Pharmacology Exams
- I wish I had known about this site when I took Pharmacology. The questions are broken down by subject with explanations of all answer choices. Straightforward multiple choice and great for review.
- Web Path
- I used this site religiously when I took Path and it was an enourmous help. I recommend it to anyone and everyone. Great questions, great pictures, great format.
- Anatomy at University of Michigan
- I used this site throughout anatomy and I still give thanks to this site. Surface anatomy, gross anatomy, radiology, and Anatomy Jeopardy. After the Boards, I owe these guys a bottle of wine and a nice card.
- Lipincott Williams and Wilkins
- 350-question comprehensive USMLE test, available to anyone that has registered with the site. If you have bought one of their books (Physio BRS), there is an access code in the jacket.
- Student Consult
- I have access to this because of the two Rapid Review books that I bought (Gross and Developmental Anatomy, Microbiology and Immunology). This site also has 350-question tests for you to use (with the scratch-off code, of course).
- Facts in a Flash
- Not USMLE format, but if you like working on flashcard questions without the rubberbands and mess, this might be for you.
So after looking at those sites you decide that, while very good for your normal review, you need some professional help for the Boards. You need this enough that you’ll part with some loan money. Whichever company you choose, you should look for the following:
- Their question bank (QBank) should have enough questions for you to give yourself a fair evaluation, there should not be so many questions that you could not comfortably do them all, and the quality of the questions should be more important than the quantity.
- The questions are given in the FRED computer format that you are going to see on the USMLE, complete with question marking, annotation, highlighting and
strikethrough. - Detailed explanations for right and wrong responses.
- Questions broken down by both subject and system, i.e. Cardiovascular Pharmacology.
- The software shows your strengths, weaknesses, progress, and performance against all other students using the same questions.
- THE HOLY GRAIL: The questions are of equal or greater difficulty compared to those on the USMLE.
- KAPLAN ($279, 3 months, 2100 Qs, FRED)
- This was likely the first company that sprang to mind. Kaplan runs review courses where you live in a hotel for 6 weeks cramming, they have online course content, video lectures, on and on. This company has worked the USMLE inside and out, and it seems a right of passage that students slog through the 2100+ questions before sitting for the exam. I was a little wary of this company, though, as people told me that by the end of the course, they were scoring in the 90s on each block and that the actual USMLE was much harder.
- USMLE WORLD ($110, 3 months, 1730 Qs, FRED)
- I had never heard of this program, but three people that I consider intelligent (each scored 95+) told me that UW’s questions were more difficult than the actual USMLE. Each of them also subscribed to Kaplan, used its program, and found the programs to offer the same features. After hearing this, visiting their site, and considering the prices, I had to take them seriously. It seemed like a great deal (less than half of Kaplan with a higher rating). The reviews at Prep4Usmle were positive as well. I also like that UW let’s you try their product for a month and if you like it, you can buy more months at a discount. My review of UW Qbank.
- USMLE Rx ($199, 3 months, 2000 Qs, FRED)
- Written by the same authors of the First Aid for the USMLE. On glance, they seem to be doing everything correctly. They let you test their product and they offer integration between their online product and the First Aid book. The reviews that I have found put it on par with Kaplan. I’m intrigued.
- SCORE 95 ($99, 3 months, 4300 Qs, FRED?)
- That this site is slick and has a string of testimonials (which read like a third grader’s homework assignment) is not impressing me. I am also having a lot of trouble actually learning about their program (does it run off your computer, what features does it have, etc.). What I am impressed with is their accompanying note set, that they show you the breakdown of their questions, and that they offer a daily podcast to anyone that wants to listen to a new subject each day. The reviews I was able to find online say that the program is poor and the questions are disappointing. Quantity > Quality. In fact, the number of questions scared me off well before my research. 4,300 questions comes to 360 questions a week for 12 weeks. I currently average 150, and that pace is keeping me busy. I cannot fathom the amount of work it would take to complete these questions, so why have them?
- EXAM MASTER ($179, CD, 8,700 Qs)
- Absolutely not. On first glance: no. After reading reviews: no. If this program helps your score, it’s probably a placebo effect.
So where does that leave us? If you’re going to start doing questions 3 months before the exam, anything more than 2500 questions isn’t practical. You have to realize that you’ll be spending all day learning the material, and that it might take 3 days to cover a topic. At a reasonable pace, you can expect to do 150-200 a week (which will take you 3 hours and 15 minutes, remember). Anything more than this might burn you. So let’s just throw Exam Master and Score95 right out.
If you believe the worst reviews of the anonymous, Kaplan, UW and Usmle Rx are the same difficulty. If that’s true, then you should go with the cheapest program: UW. If you believe the best of the reviews, UW is harder than Kaplan and Rx, and you should go with UW. Though it has fewer questions, I got the strong feeling that the Quality >>> Quantity, and since I only have so much time to devote to questions, I want them to challenege me and teach me something new. I dropped the $110 and am incredibly happy with it. The questions are stout, and with all my over-preparing for each section, I have yet to crack an 85% in any discipline. This was a good choice for me.
However, if you don’t have much time, are planning on putting all your eggs in the First Aid basket, and would benefit more from reasonably challenging questions (whereas harder Qs might hurt your confidence more than help your score), then I can see a strong case for buying the Rx. It’s twice as expensive as UW, but the formats are indistinguishable and the integration with the First Aid book is appealing. If this wasn’t priced at $199, I might have bought this after finishing UW.
I’m sorry to beat up on Kaplan here, but after going through their QBook and the questions in their Lecture Notes, I’m just not impressed. I have consistently felt that the questions were either written to make me feel good about owning the notes, or that the notes were written to prepare me for those exact questions. Either way, I never had the feeling that Kaplan’s questions were independently difficult (if that makes sense) and from what I’ve read and heard from others, my concerns have merit. And for $279! Get over yourself, Kaplan.
So those are my thoughts on picking a QBank. I assure you that all the research was anecdotal and supplemented with gossip. I suggest heading over to the forums at prep4usmle to read for yourself, and if you have any comments on these products, I’d love to hear them.
Hope it helps, topher.
Return to USMLE Step 1 page.
]]>
My world has been flipped. I had to take some time away from the books to absorb this article from the New York Times (1996). Brilliantly written, it took me on a journey of discovery that recycling is garbage, we’re not going to suffer a “garbage landfill crisis,” and that the solution to excess waste is beautifully simple and already practiced by places like Minneapolis, San Francisco, and Seattle.
Recylcing is Garbage, by John Tierney.
“We’re not running out of wood, so why do we worry so much about recycling paper?” asks Jerry Taylor, the director of natural resource studies at the Cato Institute. “Paper is an agricultural product, made from trees grown specifically for paper production. Acting to conserve trees by recycling paper is like acting to conserve cornstalks by cutting back on corn consumption.”
Fifty years ago, for instance, tin and copper were said to be in danger of depletion, and conservationists urged mandatory recycling and rationing of these vital metals so that future generations wouldn’t be deprived of food containers and telephone wires. But today tin and copper are cheaper than ever. Most food containers don’t use any tin. Phone calls travel through fiber-optic cables of glass, which is made from sand-and should the world ever run out of sand, we could dispense with wires together by using cellular phones.
By now, many experts and public officials acknowledge that America could simply bury its garbage, but they object to this option because it diverts trash from recycling programs. Recycling, which was originally justified as the only solution to a desperate national problem, has become a goal in itself–a goal so important that we must preserve the original problem. It’s as if the protagonist of “Pilgrim’s Progress,” upon being informed that he could drop his sinful burden right there on the road, insisted on clinging to it just so he could continue the pilgrimage to get rid of it.
Why is it better to recycle?
I also learned where the term “muckracker” came from. Good day, all around.
]]> Biochemistry (reference: Lipincott’s Illustrated Biochemistry)
- P.79, Vitamins
- Fat soluble: in any deficiency of these vitamins, liver and egg yolk are a source in the diet.
- Tox: D>A>K>E, Vit D is Deadly (toxic), Vit A is Also bad.
- Synthesis by microbes: K and B12
- Antioxidant: C, E, and beta-carotene
- Liver storage: DAKE + B12
- P.79, Vitamin A (retinol)
- Excess – Arthralgias, fatigue, headaches (cerebral edema), skin changes…
- P.79, Vitamin B1 (thiamine)
- Diagnose: [up arrow] RBC transketolase activity after thiamine treatment.
- P.80, Vitamin B12 (cobalamin)
- In the right column under causes for B12 deficiency: “lack of intrinsic factor (pernicious anemia, total gastrectomy)”
- P.83, Chromatin structure:
- Heterochromatin – Condensed, transcriptionally inactive – methylated histones
- Euchromatin – Less condensed, transcriptionally active – acetylated histones
- P.84, Genetic Code features
- “Methionine encoded by only one codon (AUG).”
- P.85, DNA replication and DNA polymerase
- Within the replication bubble, only the lagging strand creates fragments. The description of DNA poly III elongating “until it reaches primer of preceding fragment,” while true for one leading strand meeting another replication bubble, confuses the issue here. I think it could read:
- “On the leading strand, elongates the chain by adding deoxynucleotides to the 3′ end until it reaches another replication bubble. When on the lagging strand, it performs the same action repeatedly as the replication bubble grows, creating Okazaki fragments.”
- This would of course have to be preceded by an explanation of the replication bubble that might also incorporate a definition and illustration of a helicase.
-
- Helicase – an enzyme that separates the two strands of DNA into single strands allowing for replication to occur. The position of these separated strands is called the replication fork.
- Replication bubble – area of DNA between two replication forks that marks the site of replication in each direction along a chromosome. There are several replication bubbles along the chromosome during DNA replication.
- To avoid confusion, state upfront that
- DNA poly III reads 3′-5′, makes 5′-3′ and proofreads 3′-5′ “Poly III proofs 3′ first.”
- DNA poly I reads 3′-5′, makes 5′-3′ and proofreads 5′-3′
- Within the replication bubble, only the lagging strand creates fragments. The description of DNA poly III elongating “until it reaches primer of preceding fragment,” while true for one leading strand meeting another replication bubble, confuses the issue here. I think it could read:
- P.88, tRNA
- The figure is very confusing. The accompanying paragraph makes reference to syntheTase scrutinizing the amino acid before and after, but the figure shows only one syntheTase and one synthAse. Further, the image flips over its vertical axis for some reason, and the “AA” attached to the middle tRNA’a 3′ end is changed to a “Methionine-ACC” without explanation. The figure should be changed to clearly show:
- The first step is the attachment of a methionine to AMP (leaving PPi), creating an aminoacyl-AMP (not attached to tRNA).
- The second step is the attachment of the Met-AMP to the tRNA’s ACC site, creating an aminoacyl-tRNA (attached to tRNA).
- tRNA syntheTase and tRNA synthAse are two different proteins or two regions of the same protein.
- The figure is very confusing. The accompanying paragraph makes reference to syntheTase scrutinizing the amino acid before and after, but the figure shows only one syntheTase and one synthAse. Further, the image flips over its vertical axis for some reason, and the “AA” attached to the middle tRNA’a 3′ end is changed to a “Methionine-ACC” without explanation. The figure should be changed to clearly show:
- P.88, Protein synthesis
- Figure shows a eukaryotic ribosome while the description is of a ” 30S ribosomal subunit.”
- P.89, Cell cycle phases
- The description of Permanent cells suggests that “neurons, skeletal and cardiac muscle, RBCs” all “remain in Go, regenerate from stem cells.”
- P.91, Cilia structure
- Iinclude the following:
- Dynein = retrograde (towards nucleus)
- Kinesin = anterograde (from nucleus )
- Iinclude the following:
- P.91, Kartagener’s syndrome
- Include the following: “…male and female infertility (sperm immotile, immotile fallopian cilia)…”
- P.95, Hexokinase vs. glucokinase
- Glucokinase is found in the liver and the Beta cells of the pancreas.
- P.96 , Regulation by F2,6BP
- This is a difficult concept. In the figure, the arrows are pointing in the wrong directions, i.e. PFK-2 is shown dephosphorylating F(1,6)BPate into fructose-6-P. The problem with most diagrams is that it is difficult to take into account the following in a single picture:
- Fed and Fasting states
- PFK-2 and F2,6BPase (the bifunctional protein’s two states of activity)
- Stimulation of glycolysis and inhibition of gluconeogenesis.
- To capture these three variables, you effectively need three circles in your diagram. This is my best effort at such a diagram. See below.
- This is a difficult concept. In the figure, the arrows are pointing in the wrong directions, i.e. PFK-2 is shown dephosphorylating F(1,6)BPate into fructose-6-P. The problem with most diagrams is that it is difficult to take into account the following in a single picture:
- P.96, Glycolytic enzyme deficiency
- “glucose phosphate isomerase (4%)” ??
- P.98, Electron Transport chain and oxidative phosphorylation
- The outcomes of the oxidative phosphorylation proteins are not correct.
- Electron transport inhibitors will cause a decrease in O2 consumption; this is not mentioned.
- ATPase inhibitors will cause an increase in O2 consumption; this is not mentioned.
- Uncoupling agents increase the permeability of the membrane to H+ ions; it is listed as decreasing permeability.
- Uncoupling agents will cause an increase in O2 consumption; it is listed as causing a decrease.
- The outcomes of the oxidative phosphorylation proteins are not correct.
- P.99, Pentose phosphate pathway (HMP shunt)
- The two sentences beginning, “All reactions…” and “Sites: lactating…” are immediately repeated within the section. One should be deleted.
- The HMP shunt is locating in RBCs, allowing them to handle oxidative damage by replenishing glutathione. RBCs are excluded in the following sentence : “Sites: lactating mammary glands, liver, adrenal cortex – all sites of fatty acid or steroid synthesis.”
- P.100, Disorders of galactose metabolism
- “Galactosemia ” is a symptom. Classic Galactosemia is the name of the disease described. In addition to the later symptoms of “cataracts, hepatosplenomegaly, mental retardation” the more immediate symptoms (not included) are galactosemia, galactosuria, vomiting, diarrhea, jaundice.
- P.101, Amino acids
- Everyone has there own take on which are and are not essential, but I’ve found the following to be useful:
- Conditionally Essential (3) “Babies CRY,” important early in life and during periods of growth.
- Cysteine (Cys), glucogenic
- aRginine (Arg), glucogenic
- t Yrosine (Tyr), gluco/ketogenic
- Conditionally Essential (3) “Babies CRY,” important early in life and during periods of growth.
- Everyone has there own take on which are and are not essential, but I’ve found the following to be useful:
- P.101, Transport of ammonium by alanine and glutamine
- I found the layout of these diagrams to be confusing. The first diagram does not indicate that B6-dependent AminoTransferases are involved with each exchange of the NH3, and the last step showing Glutamate going straight to Urea is incomplete. The interesting point about alanine transport versus glutamine transport is the different enzymes used and the different tissues involved, and the diagrams do not make this clear. Further, the second diagram shows glutamine transport of ammonium as ending with Aspartate and NH4. While these are the substrates for the Urea Cycle, Glutamine is the amino acid donating the NH4 in Glutamine Transport. Lipincott’s Illustrated Biochemistry has a great diagram on P.251 (3rd Ed).
- P.101, Transport of ammonium by alanine and glutamine:
- Treatment: Arginine should include (see Urea Cycle).
- P.102, Phenylketonuria
- The diagram shows a double arrow, implying that THB to DHB is a reversible reaction through Phenylalanine Hydroxylase (PAH). This is not the case. I also feel that this section should address that elevated levels of Phe are what cause the side effects, and that this can come from a deficiency of maternal or fetal PAH. I think the following table should be included (see below).
- P.102, Alkaptonuria
- This section does not make mention of the striking symptom of black/blue cartilage of the nose, cheek, ear, and splotches in the sclera. I think it should be changed to:
- Congenital deficiency of homogentisate acid oxidase in the degradative pathway of tyrosine; often benign. Resulting alkapton bodies deposited in various connective tissues may result in
- Erosion of large joint cartilage, causing debilitating arthralgias
- Blue/black discoloration of cartilage in the nose, cheek, eyes and black splotches of the sclera
- Urine that turns black on standing.
- Congenital deficiency of homogentisate acid oxidase in the degradative pathway of tyrosine; often benign. Resulting alkapton bodies deposited in various connective tissues may result in
- This section does not make mention of the striking symptom of black/blue cartilage of the nose, cheek, ear, and splotches in the sclera. I think it should be changed to:
- P.103, Homocystinuria
- The neat thing about this pathway is that a block at cystathionine synthase can be treated with vitamins to reverse or continue the pathway and that a build up of homocysteine is associated with the side effects. I think this section should be changed to reflect this:
- 3 forms (all autosomal recessive):
-
- Cystathionine synthase deficiency (treatment: [down arrow] Met, [up arrow] Cys, [up up arrow] B12 and [up up arrow] folate in diet)
- [down arrow] affinity of cystathionine synthase for pyridoxal phosphate (treatment: [up up arrow] B6 in diet)
- Homocysteine methyl transferase deficiency
- Results in [up arrow] HomoCys, [up arrow] Met and [down arrow] Cys in blood and urine. Cys becomes essential.
- Side Effects: mental retardation, osteoporosis, tall stature, kyphosis, lens subluxation (downward and inward), and atherosclerosis (stroke and MI; associated with [up arrow] HomoCys)
- The neat thing about this pathway is that a block at cystathionine synthase can be treated with vitamins to reverse or continue the pathway and that a build up of homocysteine is associated with the side effects. I think this section should be changed to reflect this:
- P.103, Maple syrup urine disease
- The severe side effects of this disease only occur if left untreated. Patients with this disease typically present early in infancy. I think the following should be added:
- Classic type presents in infancy with difficulty feeding, vomiting, dehydration and severe metabolic acidosis. Diaper smells of “burnt sugar.”
- The severe side effects of this disease only occur if left untreated. Patients with this disease typically present early in infancy. I think the following should be added:
- P.104, Purine Salvage Pathway:
- Arrows show AMP going to IMP in two steps; IMP going to AMP in one step. This is backwards.
- Could mention that Allopurinol inhibits Xanthine Oxidase here.
- P.105, Insulin
- The diagram with all of its +’s and -’s is confusing and requires time to “translate” what it means for the phosphorylation/dephosphorylation of the enzymes shown. I’ve attached a diagram that shows the controls and also makes the regulators unique to the liver and muscle more obvious. See below.
- P.105, Glycogen
- Enzyme converting Glucose-1-phosphate to UDP-glucose is incorrectly labeled as Glycogen Synthase (should be UDP-glucose phosphorylase). Glycogen synthase is involved in the next step for extending the chain of glycogen.
- P.106, Glycogen storage diseases
- Deficient enzyme in Von Gierke’s is listed as “Glucose-6-phosphate.” Should be “Glucose-6-phosphatase“
- P.111, Heme Synthesis
- This drawing shows Lead inhibiting ALA synthetase.
- Lead inhibits ALA hedehydratase and ferrochelatase, not ALA synthetase (correctly noted in following section, Porphyrias).
- Heme -> Hemin -> inhibits ALA synthetase. This is a great feedback inhibition and represent the emergency treatment of porphyrias, i.e., the administration of IV Hemin.
- In the right margin, it should mention that this pathway is in the liver (P450) and Bone Marrow (hemoglobin synthesis). This is why phenobarbital, griseosulvin, etc can cause attacks of porphyria, by inducing the increased expression of P450, increased need for Heme, and exacerbation of deficiency.
- P.111, Porphyrias
- In addition to the “5 P’s” of Porphyria, I suggest making an addition
- Painful Abdomen
- Pink Urine
- Polyneuropathy
- Psychological disturbances
- Precipitated by drugs
- Pruritis
- Photosensitivity
- In addition to the “5 P’s” of Porphyria, I suggest making an addition
Return to First Aid Errors page.
]]> Oaths for Physicians — Necessary Protection or Elaborate Hoax?
Erich H Loewy, MD
The ritual of taking an oath upon graduating from medical school is, with a few exceptions, a routine requirement for graduation. Albeit that many students believe that they have taken the Hippocratic Oath, this is virtually never the case.
According to the oath, physicians (in virtually all formulations) swear that social standing (and by implication economic factors) will not change the way in which patients are treated. This becomes impossible.”
I think that the prospective physician having to take an oath that promises to place the biopsychosocial interests of the individual patient first while at the bedside and to work for a healthcare system that is accessible to all is not coercive to students as long as students are aware before they enter medical school that taking such an oath will be one of the requirements for graduation — no more and no less than anatomy or a clerkship in medicine
[I]t is a problem that we must at least start to recognize as an imperative and consequently to work on setting up fair but strict criteria, which are known to the student. For example, it seems obvious that convicted felons should — even after they are released from prison — not be allowed to enroll in medical schools or practice. This sounds harsh: After all, the felon “has paid his price to society” (whatever that means) and should now be able to engage honorably in an honorable profession.
In my experience — and that of many of my colleagues — we have graduated the undoubted sociopath or psychopath, and have graduated students who falsified records, stolen books, and repeatedly made obviously demeaning remarks about patients or colleagues.
It is surprising — and disheartening — that medical boards are quite ready to either reeducate or otherwise sanction physicians who have a record of consistent malpractice or to give help to those who are substance abusers, but that medical societies are hesitant to deal with ethical violations.
I think this author has the current attitude among medical students dead to rights; I spend no time thinking about this oath and I don’t think others do. He’s also right about the ethical “slips” in medical school. I wrote previously about a student in my class that tried to cheat on a test (feigning sick, then asking about the test before his makeup) and I know plenty of students that take advantage of the “I’m sick” route test after test after test. And while it’s easy for me to agree with him that, if we take these promises seriously, then we should punish those that break them seriously, I stop short of his conclusions.
I think throwing all types of felons together is lazy and ignores the difference between a murderer and a drug offender (and he addresses this, indirectly, by the support that medical boards give to MD’s abusing drugs). I think sanctioning physicians with a history of malpractice fails to draw the distinction between suits that represent Deriliction of Duty resulting in Direct Damage (you need all four D’s for it to be malpractice) d those aimed at gold (the courts can’t even draw this distinction).
I DO AGREE that any of these precursor infractions in medical school should be grounds for immediate dismissal, if for no other reason than it’s easiest to monitor. Like him, I already know two sociopaths that (God help us all) will earn an MD and practice.
So, no, the oath doesn’t seem to be taken seriously in house, but it will probably make everyones’ chests swell with pride against the buttons of their white coats just the same.
As for me? I believe in all the parts that don’t conflict with my right to earn a living that correlates with my skill in whichever discipline I choose. If I end up being a shitty doctor, I shouldn’t get to charge as much as a great one. As I said before, the Weill Cornell Medical College’s Hippocratic Oath looks solid.
But while we’re talking about professional duties and the good of patients, the honor of the guild and role in society, how about we introduce one more oath? With all that is demanded and expected of physicians, shouldn’t the State remove some of its barriers to make it easier for us to fulfill these expectations?
The State’s Oath to the People’s Health:
The State does vow, to that which society holds most dear:
That the State will honor the Profession of medicine, be just and generous to its members, and help sustain them in their service to humanity; The State and its legislature will recognize the limits of its knowledge and allow physicians to pursue their lifelong learning to better care for the sick and will support physician-recommended programs to prevent illness; That no legislation will be passed that affects the practice of medicine without the expressed support of the physicians of the State as the State recognizes that physicians are more expert in medical matters; That the State will not withdraw from patients in their time of need; That the State will govern with integrity and honor, using its power wisely; That whatsoever the State shall learn of the lives of patients shall not be spoken, but kept in confidence; That the State will maintain this trust, holding itself to the highest standards, from corruption, from the temptations of industry, from any disruption to the practice of medicine and its physicians; That above all else, the State will serve the highest interests of the patients through the support of those providing their care, and the institutions that seek to suport it. The State enters this promise with its physicians to preserve the finest medical traditions, with the reward of long service and a well-served populace. The State makes this promise upon its honor.
]]>As always, this is from an email sent to the First Aid team.
Pathology
- P.204, Paraneoplastic effects of tumors:
- From Robbins Pathology: “Definition: Symptoms not directly related to the spread of the tumor or elaboration of hormones indigenous to the tissue from which the tumor arose.” “Cancer-associated hypercalcemia also results from osteolysis induced by bony metastases; this, however, is not to be considered a paraneoplastic syndrome.” This section in the First Aid lists “bone metastasis (lysed bone)” as a paraneoplastic syndrome causing hypercalcemia. This is not “para” neoplastic or an endocrinopathy like the elaboration of PTH-like peptides from Squamous Cell Lung Cancer.
- Hepatocellular CA is also capable of expressing erythropoietin as a PNP syndrome.
- P.205, Cancer epidemiology
- The way that these percentages are listed makes the pattern non-obvious. I suggest simply rearranging the data.

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]]>While driving home the other day, I saw a giant sign on the side of a building that read, “AMERICA WILL NOT FORGET – Dec. 7, 1941 – Sept. 11, 2001.” Okay, I thought, that’s acceptable, especially since those events were pretty atrocious moments in US history. Let’s review.
- Dec. 7, 1941
- Sept. 11, 2001
- Aug. 6, 1945
- Aug. 9, 1945
- Mar. 20, 2003–current
Click here to see how it ends.
]]>‘Judge Tries to Unring Bell Hanging Around Neck of Horse Already Out of Barn Being Carried on Ship That Has Sailed.’
Click here to laugh along.
Second best sentence of the day:
It takes a special person to want to do family medicine as you must not only run between the Scylla and Charybdis of your peer’s ridicule but you must also lash yourself to the mast of primary care against the siren call of more lucrative specialties.
Via Panda Bear MD, my new favorite blog.
]]>Pharmacology
- P.218, Sympathomimetics
- Clonidine and a-methyldopa are centrally acting alpha-2 agonists. They are listed here as simply “alpha”.
- P.223, P-450 interactions
- Quinidine is listed as an inducer of P450. Quinidine is an inhibitor of P450 (BRS 4th ed, P.13)
Return to First Aid Errors page.
]]>Return to First Aid Errors page.
]]>Immunology
- P.191, Complement
- “Membrane attache complex” should be “Membrane attack complex.”
- P.191, Complement
- “Deficiency of C1 esterase inhibitor leads to angioedema (overactive complement).” The angioedema is due to overactive bradykinin as C1 Inh is responsible for inhibiting this pathway. The parenthetical remark should instead be ” (overactive bradykinin pathway).”
- P.194, Diseases caused by hypersensitivity
- Several texts list auto antibodies as a finding and alternative cause to IDDM (against islet cells) and Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis (against thyroglobulin, thyroid peroxidase), but these are both classified as strictly Type IV hypersensitivity reactions. This is inconsistent with P.196, where auto antibodies to “antimicrosomal elements” are mentioned.
- Rheumatoid arthritis is listed as a Type III hypersensitivity disorder. Most medical texts agree that the likely pathogenesis of RA involves CD4+ cells sensitive against the synovium that begin releasing cytokines. The Rheumatoid factor (anti-IgG IgM) is absent in 20% of patients and is a byproduct of the type IV hypersensitivity, not the cause itself. Because Rf does contribute to the vasculitis and subcutaneous nodules characteristic of the disease, RA should be listed as a Type IV with Type III characteristics. SLE represents another mixed hypersensitivity reaction with characteristics of Type II and Type III. I suggest a separate section for mixed hypersensitivity reactions to avoid confusing this issue.

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]]>Sorry for any confusion, topher.
]]>Embryology (reference: HY Embryo by Dudek)
- P.122, Embryological derivatives: Under neural crest cells, it lists “cranial nerves.” This is not true. Neural crest cells are responsible for the sensory ganglia of V, VII, IX and X and the parasympathetic ganglia of III, VII (ptery), VII (submand), IX and X. Motor ganglia of all cranial nerves come from the neuroectoderm of the neural tube. The remaining cranial nerve precursors: sensory ganglia of I (surface ectoderm), II (neuroectoderm), VIII (surface ectoderm for both vestibular and cochlear ganglia). Another way to display the CN origins:
- Surface ectoderm gives sensory for CN I and CN VIII (both cochlear and vestibular ganglia)
- Neuroectoderm gives sensory for CN II.
- Neuroectoderm gives motor ganglia for all cranial nerves (III, IV, V, VI, VII, IX, X)
i. Sensory for CN II
-
- Neural Crest cells give parasympathetic ganglia for all cranial nerves (III, VII [pterygopalantine and submandibular], IX, X)
- P.122, Embryological derivatives
- It is mentioned that neural crest cells give rise to odontoblasts but not that they produce dentin . It should also be mentioned under ectoderm that ameloblasts produce the enamel.
- P.123, Twinning
- Monozygotic ( 65%), Dizygotic (fraternal) or monozygotic (35%).
- P.125, Fetal Circulation
- I’m sure someone has probably brought this up, but the shading for this diagram is inaccurate. It shows the umbilical vein as carrying less oxygenated blood from the mother to the fetus and more oxygenated blood carried in the umbilical arteries from the fetus to the mother. The fetal circulation cannot be divided into left and right as it can be in the adult (and is in this diagram). The order of oxygenation should be as follows (and represented graphically with gradient shading instead of gray v. white: from most to least
i. Most oxygenated blood from L. umbilical vein to end of Ductus venosum
ii. Mixing of blood with return from IVC (where it meets ductus venosum) to R. atrium
iii. More oxygenated blood following along strong arrow, entering the L. ventricle without much mixing in the R. atrium and R. ventricle with less oxygenated blood from the SVC.
iv. Medium oxygenated blood delivered straight to arch of aorta, leaving through R. and L. subclavian aa, L. coronary.
v. Less oxygenated blood returning from head into SVC, entering R. ventricle without much mixing with more oxygenated blood from the IVC followed by ejection into Pulmonary trunk through Ductus Arteriosis and into thoracic aorta.
vi. Least oxygenated blood leaving via R. and L. umbilical aa.
- P.127, Ear development
- “Eardrum” should be replaced with “tympanic membrane.”
- P.128, Cleft lip and cleft palate
- In describing the cleft palate, “failure of fusion of the lateral palatine processes, the nasal septum, and/or the median palatine process (formation of [secondary] palate).” I found the bold part very confusing. After describing the primary palate with relation to a cleft lip, why is the term ” median palatine process” used instead of the already introduced “primary palate?” I think that this should be changed, with “primary palate” used instead.
- P.128, Diaphragm embryology
- I think that the adult derivatives of each part of the diaphragm could be mentioned along with special mention that congenital hiatal hernias are more often through the L. pleuroperitoneal membrane.
i. Septum transversum (central tendon)
ii. Pleuroperitoneal folds (muscle)
iii. Body wall ( muscle)
iv. Dorsal mesentery of the esophagus (crura)
- P.129, Genital ducts
- I suggest adding the following:
i. “Mullerian inhibiting hormone (MIH) secreted by the Sertoli cells of the testes suppresses development of the paramesonephric ducts in males. [Up arrow] androgens secreted by the Leydig cells cause development of the mesonephric ducts.”
Return to First Aid Errors page.
]]>- Behavioral Science (references: HY Biostatistics and HY Behavioral Science)
-
P.66, Statistical Distribution: I found the (mean>median>mode) v (mean<median<mode) labeling to be unintuitive for right and left skew. To emphasize the idea that the mean is sensitive to skew, the median is insensitive to skew, and the mode is totally uninfluenced by skew, the order should have instead been: (mode< median<mean) and (mean>median>mode). But even this falls somewhat short. The best diagram I have seen is on P.11 of Glasner’s HY Biostatistics. I have attached a quick drawing of it (bottom of page). It is intuitive and requires little (if any) explanation.
- P.68, Reportable Diseases: Of the 50+ reportable diseases nationwide (CDC website), I thought the absences of Chlamydia, Hep C, and Lyme disease from this list were significant. Should these be included, the mnemonic would have to change from “Be a smart chicken or you’re gone” to something more straightforward, like the following triplets:
- (Hep) ABC, MMR, SSS, TLC, SEX (AIDS, Gonorrhea, Chlamydia)
- P.70, Written Advanced Directive: This definition implies that a Living Will can only contain wishes to “withhold or withdrawal life-sustaining treatment.” This is not the case.
- Living Will: A document which specifies the life-prolonging measures an individual wants and does not want taken on his/her behalf in the event of a terminal illness or incapacitation.
- A Living Will, unlike a DNR/DNI order, can have instructions for both positive and negative measures.
- P.74, Sleep stages: Stage 3-4 is described as containing “bed-wetting” while in #6 it says, “Imipramine is used to treat enuresis…” Just to be consistent, I think it should say, “…to treat enuresis ( bed-wetting)…”
- P.75, Operant Conditioning: The following three lines are not consistent in their terms/descriptions and I found them to confuse the issue for me. My suggestions follow.
- Learning in which a particular action is elicited because it produces a reward.
- Positive Reinforcement – desired reward produces action (mouse presses button to get food).
- Negative Reinforcement – removal of aversive stimulus [up arrow] behavior (mouse presses button to avoid shock). Do not confuse with punishment. (a definition or example of punishment was never given)
- Operant Conditioning – learning in which a consequence produces a behavior.
- Positive Reinforcement – introduction of a positive stimulus [up arrow] the behavior (Child cleans room to earn money).
- Negative Reinforcement – removal of an aversive stimulus [up arrow] the behavior (Child cleans room to end mother’s complaining). Do not confuse with Punishment.
- Punishment – Learning in which a consequence (following the behavior) [down arrow] the behavior (Child is denied dessert for frequently interrupting others. Child now allows others to speak ).
- P.76, Immature Ego Defenses: This list is good but is missing a few terms. My suggestions for inclusion and a change to the definition of Isolation:
- Somatization – Psychic conflict manifested as physically real bodily symptoms – After hearing bad news, wanting to vomit.
- Intellectualism – avoiding/replacing emotion with intellectual detail – cancer patient obsesses over the workings of a CT machine instead of facing poor prognosis.
- Isolation (change) – separation of emotion from idea – a child describes his birthday party in a monotone.
- Undoing -carrying out symbolic behavior to atone for unacceptable action – A nun making the sign of the cross after cursing.
- Passive-Aggression – unconsciously falling short of expectation after creating the expectation – Friend leaves you at campus after promising to give you a ride home.
-
Return to First Aid Errors page.
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I didn’t schedule the time to spend a few hours each day trying to decipher conflicting statements. Though I found sections of this book amazing, the confusing tradeoffs weren’t worth it. If I were to do it all over again, I would not buy this book.
But if you did buy this book and just searched for “errors in High Yield….” then what follows is what I’ve found. This comes from an email I composed to Dr. Dudek, notifying him of the problems. You have to appreciate an author that gives out their email address like that.
Comments are arranged by Chapter-Page-Section. Important errors are underlined and emboldened. Please escuse my hubris:
Chapters 1-13 (out of 26)
- The Cell Membrane
- P.6, A.13.17: Abbreviation “DST of the loop of Henle” not explained. I knew this term as Thick Assending Limb and not Distal Straight Tubule.
- P.7, B: “across the membrane and [verb?] generally called ion channels.”
- P.10, B.2: Title: “Transmitted-gated ion channels” should be “TransmitteR-gated…”
- P.11, B.2.c: “..the gate is opened and the influx and Na+ and efflux..” “And” should be replaced with “of”.
- P.11, B.2.d: “Purinergic 2x” conflicts with P.16, E: “Purinergic 1,2y” These may be different; I raise it only because both are found on “peripheral terminals of nociceptive neurons.”
- P.13 is amazing, by the way.
- P.14, C: “..trimer with GDP bound to the [alpha] chain..” The [alpha] should have a “q” after it.
- P.15, B: You refer to the actions of both Beta-agonists and Beta-antagonists as having “(positive chronotropism; B1 effect).” This is confusing. As I’ve seen it, these drugs are typically described as being “negatively or positively chronotropic” for antagonists and agonists, respectively.
- P.16, C: You have the PLc pathway as producing a “[down arrow/decrease in] IP3 + DAG” when it actually produces an increase in IP3 and DAG.
- P.18, P.4: last sentence: “…receptor antagonists and are used to [verb?] opioid toxicity…”
- P.21, VII: last sentence: “When LDL … binds to the LDL receptor, receptor-mediated endocytosis [verb?] in the following steps:”
- P.21, VII.C: You abbreviation “HNG-CoA reductase” should be “HMG-CoA reductase.”
- Cytoplasm and Organelles
- P.23, I.E: “…and a DNA-binding region that activate gene…” It should be “activates.”
- P.30, C.2: last sentence: “The absence of glucose-6-phosphatase enzyme in skeletal muscle prevents the degradation of glycogen to free glucose,” while certainly correct, is confusing if you don’t already know that this absence is normal, and that no skeletal muscle has this enzyme. Without this context, I would have read this as being a disease state. I think it could be reworded:
- “Skeletal muscle lacks glucose-6-phosphatase, thereby committing the stored glycogen to be used by the muscle in glycolysis.”
- P.32, Figure 2-2, O: “High magnification of a mitochondria with tubular cristae.” The significance of mitochondrial tubular cristae in steroid-secreting cells was not addressed in this chapter.
- Nucleus
- Figure 3-2 was really helpful
- Protein Synthesis
- P.38, II.A: “DNA sequences that flank the gene sequence at the 5′ end of the template strand are called upstream sequences. DNA sequences that flank the gene sequence at the 3′ end of the template strand are called downstream sequences.” This is not correct and conflicts with every mention to follow of upstream/downstream sequences, i.e. P. 95-97.
- Template strand: upstream: 3′ of gene
- Template strand: downstream: 5′ of gene
- Non-template strand: upstream: 5′ of gene
- Non-template strand: downstream: 3′ of gene
- P.43, Figure 4-3: For some reason the last drawn ribosome has the two subunits separated.
- P.44, Figure 4-4, A(3): After giving the translation of each codon-to-amino acid sequence, you omit that UAA codes for STOP. I think that this should be included for completeness.
- P.38, II.A: “DNA sequences that flank the gene sequence at the 5′ end of the template strand are called upstream sequences. DNA sequences that flank the gene sequence at the 3′ end of the template strand are called downstream sequences.” This is not correct and conflicts with every mention to follow of upstream/downstream sequences, i.e. P. 95-97.
- Chromosomal DNA
- P.45, II.B: “…impart a positive charge to the proteins that enhances it binding to…” It should be “..enhances its binding to…”
- P.46, II.C: “(an enzyme can pass on DNA double..” This should be “can pass one DNA double”
- P.46, II.D: “During metaphase of mitosis, [subject?] can become…”
- P.46, III: last sentence: “Microtubules produced the by centrosome…” should be “by the centrosome“.
- Numerical Chromosomal Abnormalities
- P.54, II.B: You state that chimerism is the “reverse of twinning.” While I understand what you are going for by way of analogy, genetically-speaking, chimerism is not the reverse of twinning and this analogy is potentially confusing.
- P. 57, Figure 6-3, (A,B): When describing Patau syndrome, you list “fingers flexed and overlapping” as a key feature. This is a key feature of Edwards syndrome.
- P.61, III.I. The notation for each of the multiple myeloma translocations is out of order, i.e. t(14;4), t(14;6), t(14;11) should instead be t(4;14), t(6;14), t(11;14).
- P.66, VII.A: last sentence: “…encodes for DNA polymerase eta[?] that is involved…”
- P.66, VII.C: missing comma between “hypogonadism” and “microcephaly”
- Structural Chromosomal Abnormalities
- Chromosome Replications and DNA Synthesis
- Meiosis and Genetic Recombination
- P.82, Figure 9-2, A: This figure is confusing because the end product shows only a swapped intermediate sequence and does not show how the remainder of the chromosome arms can be switched between the two chromosomes using a Holliday junction. This site has a very good demonstration that might be adapted to fit the space of this page.
- The Human Nuclear Genome
- P.87, III.F-H: These descriptions are great, but why is there no reference to Figure 12-3 (P.104) which shows how each of these works? Most of the information here is also repeated word-for-word in chapter 12. I think moving Figure 12-3 into this chapter and then (instead of repeating the information) simply referencing III.F-H when the time comes in chapter 12 would help.
- P.89, V.C: “Simple variable number tandem repeats (VNTR) polymorphisms called microsatellite DNA or SSR polymorphisms … are typically found in microsatellite DNA.” This is self-referencing and confusing. I don’t know what you mean when you say that microsatellite DNA is typically found in microsatellite DNA.
- P.91, Figure 10-2 (F): It was my understanding that two transposons, flanking a gene, carrying out gene transfer required the “cuts” to be on the outermost edges of the transposons, thereby incorporating both transposons with the gene into the new location. This figure shows the gene being transferred without accompanying transposons.
- The Human Mitochondrial Genome
- Control of Gene Expression
- P.07, II.B.3: “CREB (cAMP response element binding protein) binds to the CRE in response to elevated cAMP levels in the cell caused by a protein hormone binding to a G protein-linked receptor and thereby induces gene expression.” I found this sentence very confusing. Because the sequence of events is very linear, I think a more linear sentence is appropriate:
- “A cell signal produced by a G protein-linked receptor (resulting in an increase in cAMP) triggers CREB (cAMP response element binding protein) to bind to CRE.
- P.100, Figure 12-2 (A): The drawing of the folded Homeodomain protein has the COOH terminus and NH2 terminus switched.
- P.101, V.D: “There a[are?] several human genes that [verb?] two or more alternative promoters which…”
- P.101, V.D: “Alternative promoters start transcription from different versions; the first exon, which is then spliced into a common set of downstream exons, which produce an isoform of the same molecular weight.” This should say:
- “Alternative promoters start transcription from different versions of the first exon, which is then spliced into a common set of downstream exons, and produce isoforms of the same molecular weight.”
- P.101,V.D: “…but different amino acid sequences in the NH2-terminal end.” This should say “…but different amino acid sequences in the COOH-terminus.”
- P.102, V.G: “…~20% of the total genes on the X chromosome escape inactivation. These ~20% inactivated genes include…” This is contradictory. This should say “These remaining active genes include…”
- P.103, VI.D.4: “Glucose and lactose(+)” should be “Glucose(-) and lactose(+).”
- P.104, Figure 12-3 (D): “Note that each alternative promoter uses in own first exon” should be “promoter uses its own.” “The size of the dystrophin isoforms are show” should be “shown.”
- P.07, II.B.3: “CREB (cAMP response element binding protein) binds to the CRE in response to elevated cAMP levels in the cell caused by a protein hormone binding to a G protein-linked receptor and thereby induces gene expression.” I found this sentence very confusing. Because the sequence of events is very linear, I think a more linear sentence is appropriate:
- Mutations of the DNA Sequence
- P.107 III: You describe nonsense mutations as producing “non-functional (truncated) proteins” and frameshift (or DNA splicing) mutations as producing “non-functional (“garbled”) proteins.” According to the mechanisms described, both frameshift and DNA splicing mutations can produce “garbled” and truncated proteins.
- P.107-108, III.F-G: After stating that Translocational and Unstable Expanding Repeat Mutations have been previously covered (and you reference them), you reprint the text. I think you could save this space.
- P.109, IV.A: No examples given of haploinsufficiency but several examples given for gain of function mutations. I would have liked to read about a few of them.
- P.110, IV.B: “In order for gain of function mutations to become clinically relevant, the individual needs to be heterozygous (i.e. Rr).” Because homozygotes are not excluded (through inheriting these traits), I think it is more correct to say that:
- In order for gain of function mutations to become clinically relevant, the individual needs to have at least one copy of the gene (i.e. Rr or rr).
- P.110, IV.B.1: “Pittsburgh variant is a missense mutation in the [alpha]1-antitrypsin protein that produces a gain of function mutation known as the Pittsburgh variant.” This is confusing. I do not know what you mean to say that Pittsburgh variant produces Pittsburgh variant. “…methionine358 in the reactive center acts a bait for…” should be “…acts as bait…”
- P.110, V: “Fourth, a polymorphism is the occurrence of two or more alleles at a specific locus in a frequencies greater than can be explained by mutations alone (a polymorphism does not cause a genetic disease).” I found this explanation confusing and it does not mention that it is judged on the characteristics of the population that carries it. I think that the Oxford definition is less confusing:
- The occurrence of two or more alleles for a given locus in a population where at least two alleles appear with frequencies of more than 1%.“
- P.110, V.A.2: When writing about Unequal Sister Chromatid Exchange, you write that: “…cleavage and rejoining of sister chromatids occurs at different positions on the maternal chromosome usually within a region of tandem repeats.” followed by the exact same sentence, changing only “maternal” to “paternal.” I think you should change this into one sentence, reading:
- …cleavage and rejoining of sister chromatids occurs at different positions on the (maternal/fraternal) chromosome usually within a region of tandem repeats.”
- P.111, V.A.3: When describing replication slippage, you don’t mention that the strand that is slipping either “forward” or “backwards” refers to the parent
or daughter strand (respectively). You also don’t mention that the insertions and deletions only affect one arm of the sister chromatid. I think you should expand the description of replication slippage and include something similar to this figure (click to enlarge) that illustrates that the templates are unchanged, therefore there is a 50/50 chance that no insertion or deletion will be passed on. - P.114, Figure 13-1 (G): “PNA splicing” should be “RNA splicing”
Return to USMLE Step 1 page.
]]>“You know last week a group of physicians were in an online discussion forum that was meant for something or other, and the conversation inevitably went to those issues you’ve just described. A colleague of mine said that, ‘it was ridiculous that I am paid $$ for a procedure by XX company and $ for the same procedure by company X.” We all voiced similar complaints until a lawyer that was present in the forum and representing the hospital told us that we couldn’t talk about the prices of our services.”
“Why not?”
“He said it was against the FTC’s Antitrust laws.”
“How the hell is a room full of physicians knowing what each other makes violating antitrust?”
“You’d have to ask him.”
I couldn’t really believe it, but I had to know for sure. Since then I’ve been trying to find more and today I have. Here are some excerpts:
“In the late 1970s, the Supreme Court decided the antitrust laws should apply to “professionals” such as lawyers and physicians. In 1993, lawyers at the FTC and the DOJ’s Antitrust Division made up a set of rules governing how physicians and other health care providers should run their businesses. To avoid antitrust charges, independent physicians had to organize their practices according to a government-approved economic model. Experimentation or deviation from this model would subject doctors to criminal price-fixing charges on top of potential treble-damage civil lawsuits.”
“The FTC and DOJ said strict rules were necessary to “protect competition” among physicians.”
“Each of these cases presents a similar scenario: A group of independent physicians band together to deal with the administrative and regulatory burdens imposed by managed care. The group negotiates contracts with various HMOs, PPOs, and employer-based plans. The payers soon become unhappy with their contracts—they think the doctors should have agreed to lower prices—and they petition the DOJ or FTC (but mostly the latter) to intervene. The FTC opens an investigation and demands the physician group turn over thousands of pages of documents at the group’s expense. Then without further investigation, the FTC tells the group to sign a “consent order” invalidating its existing contracts and restricting the group’s future ability to represent its members (in some cases, the group is disbanded altogether.) As a matter of FTC policy, the physicians are not afforded an opportunity to tell their side of the story.”
“In the health care market envisioned by antitrust regulators, physicians should “negotiate” contracts as individuals, never in a “coercive” group. Of course, no individual physician possesses any meaningful bargaining power when dealing with an HMO that represents thousands of buyers. That’s precisely the point, however: Competition, in the government’s view, means sellers accept whatever price the buyer offers, irrespective of the sellers’ costs or economic self-interest. In antitrust parlance, the buyers have an inalienable right to the “benefits of competition”, while the sellers are presumptive price-fixers eager to subvert the government’s carefully designed market scheme.”
“Both of these models shift risk from the insurer to the physician while simultaneously distorting the price paid by the ultimate consumer. It is illegal for consumers to know the true cost of health care and for the physicians to take any action that might enable services to be produced more efficiently. “
Read the full article by SM Oliva, President of Citizens for Voluntary Trade.
]]>You never really forget that you love science and that you find molecular biology and biochemistry to be interesting, but it’s only when you set out to review the whole subject in one week that you are reminded that it is breathtaking. I’ve been giddy over the material these last few days and despite being a little tired and sensing that I need some time to let my mind stray, I am loving this.
Studying for the Boards is so much more fun when you’re looking forward to the test.
But it’s still two months away and I need to pace myself. Tomorrow will be a half-day. I’ll have from 2:30pm till midnight to run errands (buy longjohns because the library is freezing and I’m in Cincinnati), do something physically active, and read a few chapters in a non-medical book for pleasure.
For those keeping score: 5 subjects, 618 pages, 9 days.
- HY Embryology (177)
- HY Biostatistics (115)
- HY Behavioral Science (87)
- HY Molecular and Cell Biology (189 of 227)
- Lipincott’s Biochemistry (50 selected pages)
Return to USMLE Step 1 page.
]]>Alternative post titles were:
- Lessons from my Father
- How to Say “Fuck You” So Elegantly They Don’t Even Know You’ve Said It
Inspired by Medblog Addict, #1 Dinosaur would like to announce a contest to see who can write the classiest “Screw You” letter. First prize is a copy of my book (which includes disclosure of my true identity.) (Second prize is two copies of my book, but with my name redacted.)
I’ve already sent in my entry. It was deliciously fun to write.
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How do you set a schedule? Well, how much time do you have?
For the US medical student, I think 5-7 weeks is the standard break from last class to next, and it’s in this time that they have to prepare. Of course, knowing this heading in means you can start reviewing material during your regular classes, but I think most just put it off. In the Caribbean (with SGU at least) it’s a little different.
As a January student, I’m off from Dec 17th (end of 6th term) till the beginning of my clinical rotations (end of May). For those counting at home, that’s 5 months. This should sound like 3 months too long for even the most dedicated, and it is. If you’re in the position where you need to cram information for the Boards (which describes most of us) then whatever you crammed weeks ago has fallen out well before that week when you need it.
The courses that are set up to prepare you seem to know this already. Kaplan’s program takes place over 6 weeks and they recommend taking one week off between the end of the course and the USMLE to conduct a “rapid review” of the most high-yield material (whatever that is at the end of two years). Talk to the people that have gotten antsy and delayed the test for an extra two weeks after the course and most of them will tell you that it was a mistake. So let’s believe them and not repeat it.
My plan was to relocate to Cincinnati where I knew no one, stay with my medical school roommate, and live in a library from Jan 4th until test day, March 14th. That comes to one day shy of 10 weeks, or 70 days (compare against 48 days for the average US student). To keep our sanity, we’re taking one full day off each week, bringing us down to 60 days. To build confidence, we’re finishing all material one week before the test to leave one week of “rapid review.” So with roughly 54 actual days of covering material, we had to figure how to divide it.
As always, I decided to fall on the First Aid for the USMLE. In the 2007 edition, everything has been rearranged. The second half of the book takes a systems-based approach, incorporating anatomy, physiology, pathology and relevant pharmacology into each. This is a completely alien way of learning for me as SGU is subject-based, and I decided to try something knew if only to make old information new again. The first half of the book contains the fundamental concepts like biochemistry, biostatistics, pharmacokinetics, and other things that didn’t fit neatly into a system. After some back and forth, we decided to weight each subject according to the First Aid, down to the last page.
I counted every page in each section (omitting title pages, vignettes, etc) to get to the meat. I took the total number of pages (329) and divided them by my total number of days (54) to find that 6 pages each day was a good pace. In certain places I added or subtracted a day to reflect how weak/strong I felt in a subject, but for the most part I stuck to it. You can do the same calculation with however many days you have. These were my page counts per section with days allotted in parentheses:
First Half – 146 pages (26days)
- Behavioral/Biostatistics – 13 (2/1)
- Biochemistry/Molecular – 41 (5/2)
- Embryology – 8 (2)
- Microbiology – 47 (8)
- Immunology – 14 (2)
- Pathology (neoplasia and inflammation) – 7 (1)
- Pharm (kinetics and dynamics) – 16 (3)
Second Half – 183 pages (33 days)
- Cardiovascular – 27 (5)
- Endocrine – 14 (2)
- Gastrointestinal – 24 (4)
- HemeOnc – 18 (3)
- Musculoskeletal – 16 (3)
- Neurology – 31 (6)
- Psychiatry – 13 (3)
- Renal – 16 (3)
- Reproduction – 13 (2)
- Respiratory – 11 (2)
We ended up going over our allowance and eating into some of our days off. If we stay on our original pace, we will earn those days back as reward, and I would rather earn a day off then lose a day to falling behind (perspective is so important). My schedule is available on Google Calendars (for those that are curious) as “USMLE Step 1 (topher).”
For those still couting at home, that leaves 9 weeks off between the Boards and clinicals in New York. What should you do with this time? You could always piss it away, or you could take the money you saved by not taking a Kaplan course and travel Asia/Africa/Europe/S.America for 6 weeks. Your choice.
Return to USMLE Step 1 page.
]]>]]>Doctors, nurses, med students, patients, we should be embarrassed.
Welcome 2007. You can email, send instant messages, order airline tickets in seconds, track that airplane as it flies across the globe, manage your calendar, work on documents and spreadsheets in real time with your friends and colleagues, even read newspapers from around the freaking globe. But our computerized medical records (or whatever you want to call them) can’t even print out labs in the right order. This is, in a word, ridonkulous. Hospitals and clinics should demand more. The big medical record makers should provide more. Their interfaces, truly, look like they’re from 1990.
I have spent a little over a year in hospitals, working as an upcoming doctor, and I’ve seen 8 completely different electronic medical records.
Over the year I’ve tried to collect ideas about the best features (and worst) of these different systems, and I’ve put them all together in something I call (for lack of better): the GMR (Grahamazon Medical Record).
I barely finished the material with any confidence. I logged on to the USMLE World Q Bank and tested myself against their 60 Biostats questions, expecting a score for the effort: 71% and a kick in the teeth. After 100+ pages of Biostats no less.
That was Day One. Day Two and Three were spent with Behavioral Science. After 200+ pages of it (between the High Yield and the Kaplan Lecture Notes) I am nowhere near where I want to be. Most of the Epidimeology goes in one eye and out the other and I disagree with most of the Legal/Ethical issues for which I have to provide “correct” answers. It’s a frustrating subject for me anyway, and now I have to move past it without any confidence in what I’ve learned.
Today is the first of two days devoted to Embryology. The High Yield Embryo is 177 pages long, and I’m on 93 after 10 hours. I like to go slowly, making sure I completely understand a thing before I leave it, but this is killing me. It’s all interesting and I’m making new connections between different disciplines and, dammit, I’m feeling that rush of being constantly challenged… …but I’ll have to give it up.
I can’t maintain this, or at least I don’t feel like I can, and I don’t want to admit that I’m not going to know everything for this test. I want to believe that I have enough time and that I’ve done enough work in the last two years that this is attainable.
But the volume. The VOLUME.
My ass is sore, my back hurts, my eyes are straining, and I feel like taking the test tomorrow just so it’s over with. But that’s March 14th, 65 days away.
Return to USMLE Step 1 page.
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- June: Visit with professors in Grenada to discuss your intention to transfer and ask if they would write you a letter of recommendation.
- Schools vary on their requirements. A Dean’s Letter of good standing is mandatory in addition to 2-3 letters of recommendation from previous teachers.
- Some schools also require the recommendation from your Undergraduate PreMed advisory comittee. I think that is a little silly.
- September: Fly from St. Vincent to Grenada to speak again with professors, tell them what you’ve been up to, ask for advice on strengthening your application and help in contacting any students that have successfully transferred for more guidance. Visit the Dean of Student’s Office to inquire about transferring procedure and acquiring a Dean’s Letter.
- Previously successful students can not only give you advice on mistakes they made, but can also give you advice on which professors’ recommendations were helpful in their own admission. The school may already trust the recommendation of Professor X, so if you are also able to get a recommendation from X, it may help your case.
- December: After finishing exams and flying home, contact previously successful transfer students for advice and create list of schools that have accepted transfers from SGU.
- February: Begin comprehensive search of all US medical schools to determine where you can/will apply. Download as many application forms as possible. Contact both Undergraduate and Medical Professors that have agreed to write recommendations with the tentative date of submission.
- As I said before, every school is different. They vary in their essay questions, recommendation requirements, schedules, fees, etc. I suggest opening up an Excel file and creating a master table to give you a better idea of your deadlines.
- March: Have final list of schools that will definitely or possibly entertain your application and make sure that your USMLE score is released to them. Mail pre-addressed and pre-stamped envelopes to each professor for submitting recommendations. Have all available applications filled out and proofed by two other people with your photographs attached (regardless of whether or not it is required). Confirm with each Undergraduate/Graduate/Medical school that transcripts have been paid for and sent. Mail each application.
- April: While backpacking through Southeast Asia, enjoying your time off from school, call each medical school to confirm receipt of application and all materials. Continue calling each school every two weeks until this is confirmed. If not confirmed by end of April, contact appropriate schools and have things resubmitted. Receive USMLE Step 1 score via email from back home (your parents are nosy). Celebrate.
- May: Arrive in US. Pack up life, drive to New York. While spending a few nights on a host’s couch, look for apartment. Whenever approaching a landlord, make it clear to them that while you will sign the 1-2 year lease, you may have to break the lease in three months. You will probably still have to pay the fine for breaking the contract, but it’s better to have an amicable landlord than a blind-sided one. Should it come to this, expect to lose a few thousand dollars (depending on rent). Alternatively, you can find several sublets for your area on Craigslist. Begin rotations.
- June/July: Wait for a phone call or email. If you’re lucky, you’ll be invited to interview. On days where you have scheduled an interview, you will have to be excused from your rotation. You may have to schedule these interviews on Fridays and fly out on a Thursday night. This will cost money, so have some saved.
- July/August: Life-altering phone call? Your acceptance (lucky bastard) may come less than two weeks before you are scheduled to begin. You will have little time to rearrange your finances, withdraw from SGU (they typically pro-rate your tuition), break your lease, say your goodbye’s, and move your things. I imagine this period in your life will be incredibly stressful but worth it in the long run if you’re going for a more competitive residency or have interests in academic medicine.
- September: After giving yourself a few weeks to adjust, send thank-you notes to every single person that was involved in your application process. Let every professor know that you will make yourself available to help future students with their questions.
I’m about to turn 25. Whereas before my top five most likely causes of death were by injury, murder, suicide, cancer and heart disease I can soon focus on cancer, heart disease, injuries, suicide and stroke. This is all according to my First Aid book. So what are you telling me, First Aid Book? In my teens and early twenties I was stupid enough to walk into traffic and annoying enough to inspire murder, but now magically at 25 no one thinks I’m worth stabbing because I spend all my time at Applebees working on my pack-a-day habit and emergent diabetes? Where’s the champagne because I feel like celebrating.Hooray, 25!
“Unlike a criminal suit, in which the burden of proof is “beyond a reasonable doubt,” the burden of proof in a malpractice suit is “more likely than not.” I don’t understand why it is this way and why it’s still this way. Accusing a physician of malpractice is a serious and life-altering move for both parties. Should the bar in this arena really be set lower than the standards by which all other disputes are settled?Come on, America. Come on.
First Aid Book poses ethical questions and supplies scripted answers. This one is interesting.
Ethical situation: A terminally ill patient requests physican assistance in ending his life.
Appropriate response: Refuse involvement in any form of euthenasia (physician-assisted suicide). Physician may, however, prescribe medically appropriate analgesics that coincidentally shorten the patient’s life.
I just found out that I have been mispronouncing the APgar score as the AGpar score for close to two years. It’s always embarassing to make mistakes like this. One of the biggest gaffes that people make is to pronounce the condition of incredibly swollen testicles. You’ve all seen pictures of it on National Geographic. It’s caused by a parasite that finds its way into the lymph channels of your leg, scrotum, etc. These channels are responsible for sweeping away any fluids that ooze out of the cells and aren’t picked up by your blod circulation. AND IT IS NOT CALLED ELEPHANTITIS! The suffix -itis generally means “inflammation” of whatever stem precedes it. E.g. Pancreatitis is inflammation of your pancreas. So unless you can point out where the elephant is on the human body, I challenge you to explain how it can be inflammed. It is not ELEPHANT-itis but instead elephantiasis.
There are 58 diseases listed by the CDC where the physician is mandated to report them. The First Aid for USMLE lists only 12. What is conspicuously off the list? Chlamydia, Lyme disease, Botulism, VRSA, and The Plague.
I wish I had fathered a child late in college. That way, I’d be familiar with the developmental milestones from 3 months (social smile; holds up head) to 6-11 yr (reads; understands death). This is just like the time in Biochem and Path where I wished I had diabetes so I would understand insulin and peripheral neuropathy.
Courtesy of First Aid:
REM sleep is like sex: rise in pulse, penile/clitoral swelling, takes longer to complete each time throughout the night, decreases with age.
I’ve learned a lot about myself the last few years.
- I am easily bored.
- I am easily frustrated by imperfect things.
The way I used to deal with this frustration was destruction. With a college education, working as a tech in a hospital, I was so bored and frustrated towards the end with having superiors that I did not consider intelligent that I coped by doing the least amount of work possible. Today, I learned that this is an immature ego defense mechanism called Passive-Aggression.
By the time I was in Grenada, frustrated with the lack of information provided to me before arriving on the island, I engaged in a constructive behavior: I wrote the Welcome to Grenada guide and website for future students. Today, I learned that this is a mature ego defense mechanism called sublimation.
It’s nice to put a name to a thing.
I’ve learned that if you want to train your child quickly to clean the dishes and not leave them in the sink, you should reward him each and every time that he does this. Problem is, the second you stop rewarding him he will stop doing it. This is known as Extinction of a Positively Reinforced Behavior after Continuous Reinforcement. If you want him to keep the behavior without rewarding him each time, you have to make it near impossible for him to figure out when he will be rewarded next time. Will it be tomorrow? A week from now? In a few minutes? As long as you randomly reward him, you can maintain this behavior, and this is known as Positive Reinforcement maintained through an Intermittent Reinforcement Schedule of the Variable Interval Schedule type.Sounds fancy, right? Well know I have the idea that if I ever teach a class, I will tell the students that they will be tested at random throughout the course, with no specific midterm or final, and that all tests are cumulative. I’m sure I’ll be hated, but they’ll be paying attention while they grind their teeth (which I’ve learned is called bruxism).
I have learned that too little or too much anxiety is a detriment to learning, and that a medium level of anxiety is optimum for learning new facts and skills. Immediately upon reading this, I look up from my book and tell my study partner that he is going to fail the USMLE. He owes me one.
That’s all for now. Tomorrow I finish Behavioral Science and I’ll offer a review of the Kaplan Lecture Notes, First Aid, and High Yield books for this section.Return to USMLE Step 1 page.
]]>The perfect day at the ER. Stories like this make me consider the specialty more and more.
The mental gymnastics in figuring out the diagnosis on 90% of the patients becomes reflex. But the real challenge — to be efficient, to Move the Meat, to manage the limited resources in your department in the most effective manner — that is always different and never gets old and, strangely, sometimes offers more satisfaction than does the actual patient care.
Don’t play with Fireworks. One day you’re having fun tying your shoes, the next day you have a flesh mitten.
An Eye for an Eye. I hope this happens more often, but Charity Doc had a lawyer that filed a frivilous malpractice lawsuit against him present in his ER.
]]>“Yeah, I’m a personal injury lawyer. I have no problems telling doctors that. I get better care that way, actually. Makes you guys more careful around me.”
“Yes, I know you very well, Mr. Cochran. You were the plaintiff attorney accusing me of being a baby killer, remember?!”
When I inquired about this role with the large national firm’s recruiter retained by the healthcare system to conduct the search, I received an initial positive response on my voice mail the very next morning. Then, I found I could not contact the recruiter for several days, only getting voicemail, and the recruiter was not returning my calls.
I finally reached the recruiter yesterday, and the the response I received was unexpected and disappointing: “the organization was looking for a nurse and they would not even talk to a physician.”
Frustrating…
]]>I begin by settling into the local medical school library and then lazily looking through my own notes to regain some familiarity, which takes about an hour. I open up the First Aid and carefully read over every concept that they stress, adding Generic Post It Notes to each page to hold extra mnemonics or figures that help me remember what is important. After this, it’s on to the Kaplan Lecture Notes (each source is slowly increasing the level of detail). This takes much longer, maybe three hours to absorb everything with some understanding (finding mistakes along the way, see below). Having started at 9am, I’m now finishing up around 3 o’clock. I don’t feel solid, but I feel competent.
I begin the High Yield Biostatistics. This is the highest level of detail I’ve seen and also the easiest read. I’m thrilled to find diagrams and tables that are much better than the ones I found in the First Aid or Kaplan Notes and they feel like tiny treasures. I love that this author not only offers clear explanations of similar but different terms and concepts, but he then spends some time highlighting why their differences are important. His analogies are amazing the way magic is amazing, and I’m thinking about writing Dr. Glaser an email to thank him (he supplies his email address). The questions at the end of each section are appropriately difficult and after reading the material several times over earlier in the day, this is sort of pleasurable. Biostatistics, pleasurable? Well, yes.
After an hour spent eating dinner (sack lunch swallowed over notes in a hurry), I finished the book around 9pm with all of the questions in each section. And now, after playing on the computer and writing this, I’m going to go through the things I may forget from each source and combine them into one or two pages of notes that I will review in a week’s time and again in the week before the actual test.
**Warning: not high yield to continue reading**
So what errors did I find in these books?
First Aid for the USMLE
Though techinically tomorrow’s material, I found a description of an Advanced Directive on page 70 (2007 Ed.) that I believe is flawed. I think they’re describing a Do Not Resucisitate Order or DNR. Changing “withhold or withdraw” to “withhold or provide” would probably solve this.
Living Will — patient directs physician to withhold or withdraw life-sustaining treatment if the patient develops a terminal disease or enters a persistent vegetative state
I prefer this definition from Prudential:
Living Will: A document which specifies the life-prolonging measures an individual wants and does not want taken on his/her behalf in the event of a terminal illness. Living wills are often used in conjunction with a healthcare power of attorney, which appoints someone to make healthcare decisions on your behalf.
Kaplan Lecture Notes: Behavioral Science
On Page 7, there is a statement that I do not agree with. It states that:
point of optimum sensitivity = point of optimum negative predictive value; point of optimum specificity = point of optimum positive predictive value

This is incomplete, and I need an example to demonstrate it. In the usual square (Fig 1) you have true and false positive results (TP and FP) and true and false negative results (TN and FN). Our shorthand for this is A,B,C, and D. Without going into further detail, Specificity is calculated as D/(B+D) while positive predictive value (PPV) is calculated as A/(A+B). Sensitivity is calculated as A/(A+C) and negative predictive value (NPV) is calculated as D/(C+D). So if Kaplan is incorrect, let’s see if we can demonstrate it.
Assume a population of 100 people, split perfectly down the middle. 50 have the disease, 50 are disease free. We would like to see if a company’s new test can help diagnose this disease. The new device doesn’t work and the results are poor:
- Specificity = 1/50 = 2%
- Sensitivity = 25/50 = 50%
- PPV = 49/98 = 34%
- NPV = 1/2 = 4%
Specificity is low, Sensitivity is low, and the PPV and NPV are at also low. Well, it turns out we weren’t using the device correctly, and we run the experiment again.
- Specificity = 1/50 = 2%
- Sensitivity = 49/50 = 98%
- PPV = 49/98 = 50%
- NPV = 1/2 = 50%
According to Kaplan, the rise that we see in Sensitivity should be accompanied by a rise in NPV, and we see this. But without any change in Specificity, we see a rise in PPV. My point, after all of that, is that Kaplan’s statement is incomplete becuase it doesn’t take into account the effect that Specificity has on NPV and the effect that Sensitivity has on PPV, and instead paints an incomplete picture.
Dr. Glasner in HY Biostatistics takes it further:
Whereas the sensitivity and specificity of a test depend only on the characteristics of the test itself, predictive values vary according to the prevalence (or underlying probability) of the disease. Thus, predictive values cannot be determined without prior knowledge of the prevalence of the tests’s charateristics and of the setting in which it is being used.
Long story short: increasing the prevalence of a disease increases the PPV of a test and decreases the NPV of that test, without changing the Sensitivity or Specificity at all. So as I hope you can see, the sentence from Kaplan falls quite short of the truth and would be harmful to just memorize and use come test day.
Return to USMLE Step 1 page.
]]>To begin my education in the Health Care of these United States, I’ve traveled around trying to find the blogs that are already writing about these topics. Here are a few:
Kevin MD covers the daily news of malpractice, health care reform, etc. He doesn’t offer much commentary, but he makes up for it with access (there is little that he misses). He’s like medicine’s Matt Drudge.
Joe Paduda over at Managed Care Matters is a regular read these days. His writing is great. This article about Senator Wyden’s proposal to fix health care caught my attention. I’m also paying close attention to his “Essential Blog Reads” in the right-hand column.
The Health Care Blog: Everything You Wanted to Know About Health Care but Were Afraid to Ask. I liked this recent synopsis on how to fix the problem of the uninsured.
Consumerism Commentary just started a series of posts about getting his MBA online with the University of Pheonix. While I’m thinking about an MBA, I have to wonder whether I’ll go brick and mortar or straight to the series of tubes.
A Stitch in Haste has this whirlwind post covering many of the topics that concern opponents of Universal Health Care (and should concern the supporters). Not a lot of pro/con balanced argument, but a quick survey of the topics nonetheless.
]]>That’s how I feel right now, getting ready for this test. I want someone to have done all of the work, laid out a plan of attack, shown me exactly what I need to know, and have it be easy. All of this exists, of course. I could have signed up for a Kaplan or Falcon course. I would have lived in a hotel for 6 weeks, listened to great lecturers, been fed information in outline format, and taken 2,000+ preperatory questions. It was all laid out.
But it costs several thousand dollars. You may be the type to write that expense off as an investment in your future, but I’m not. I see $6000 as a monument to my laziness because I know I can probably put together a program of my own, it’s just going to be work. I see $6000 as a trip around the world in celebration of doing things the hard way and still coming out on top.
The first piece of real work is picking the best crutch, and for this I turn to what will be my staple: First Aid for the USMLE ($45). Why? Well, the most frustrating thing about this entire process is that I get one crack at it. This is n=1 with zero degrees of freedom and I can draw no real conclusions. I’m left to scrounge for anecdotes, and the reverberating truth about the USMLE Step 1 is that the First Aid book seems to earn a few thousand thumbs-up each year. So we begin there.
In the back of this book is a list of several review books that have been described, reviewed and graded by previous test takers on an A/B/C level. So for two days of my winter break, I drove to the local medical school bookstore and pull every single top-rated book from the shelves. I pulled four books for Physology, Pharm , Path, Micro and so on. I take one subject and read the chapter devoted to it in each book to compare styles of writing. I consider length (shorter is better), number of review questions available in the book and online, and my personal impression. It takes six hours over two days. I’m tired, but I’m happy with the results.
Anatomy is a strong subject for me and one of my favorites. I have always written off Embryo, but I figure I’ll give it a fair shake if I can find the time. I have the Anatomy BRS by Chung from first year, but this book gets poor reviews because of its length, so I shop around. I’m able to narrow it down between Rapid Review: Gross and Developmental Anatomy ($35) and
USMLE Road Map: Gross Anatomy ($25). Road Map is shorter, and the illustrations are so interesting and unique that I’m thinking about the anatomy in new ways, but I can’t ignore the abundance of clinical correlates in the Rapid Review and how much fun it is to read, so I buy it.
As for Embryo, I don’t have the strongest feelings. I pick up all of the books and read through them. I ultimately choose the High Yield Embryology ($25)
because it has the highest rating in the First Aid and it has lots and lots of pictures. I’ll probably give myself onefull day to review Embryo, and if I’m going to have to do it, I’d like to be entertained. Neurology is sort of a thorn in my side. I understand the tracts and the geography, but I’m never quit sure where Neuroanatomy ends and Neurphysiology begins. Should I be covering this in Physio, Path, Histo? I throw up my arms and buy the highest-rated book: High Yield Neuroanatomy ($25).
Biochem is another subject where I feel strong, but I’m told that everyone gets kicked in the head on this section. I’m going to be careful. I have the Lipincott’s Illustrated Review of Biochemistry ($45) from first year and it has a high rating, so I’m sticking with it. SGU (when I took the class) did a poor job of preparing my for the molecular genetics, so I’ve decided to pick up a second book for this alone:
High Yield Cell and Molecular Biology ($27). After reading a chapter, I think this book will cover my needs. The High Yield series is growing on me.
Histology
Screw Histology. Anything I know about this subject, I’m going to pick up from Physiology or Pathology. I refuse to give this topic its own review book. Immediately after this, I begin spitting on the ground whenever anyone metions Histo.
Physiology
Physiology is one of my favorite subjects. I didn’t use a textbook when I took this course and instead used the amazing handouts that were prepared by our teachers. For a good review of things though, my notes won’t do, and since there seems to be an absolute consensus that Costanza’s Pathology BRS ($37) is the best book on the market. I buy it without batting an eye.
Microbiology/Immunology
These two courses are weak spots for me. When I should have been learning them, I was instead learning Pathology so I have a lot of catching up to do. I hadn’t realized this yet, but not feeling confident in a subject makes buying a review book harder since you don’t recognize which books are hitting all of the important topics. I hem and haw between Clinical Microbiology Made Ridiculously Simple ($24) and the Rapid Review: Microbioogy and Immunology ($35). Both books get high marks on reviews, but I end up going with Rapid Review because it has an Immuno section, online access to Student Consult, and some of the silliness of Ridiculously Simple annoys me
Pathology/Pathophysiology
SGU did a fantastic job of making these courses life or death for me. I’ve spent a lot of time with them and don’t feel so intimidated that I can’t enjoy myself. In the course, we used Robbins Basic Pathology (amazing), Robbins and Coltran Review of Pathology ($42), WebPath (free online site), and the Merck Manual. I have more than enough information from these courses
and that’s a problem. I need to keep things simple, so while I plan on doing all of the questions from the Review of Pathology and from WebPath, I also decide to buy the Pathology BRS by Schneider ($35). It gets glowing review from everyone that uses it, and that’s good enough for me.
Pharmacology
Again, one of my weaker subjects and I’m a little bit nervous about it. I’m comfortable with the concepts, but memorizing name after name with it’s idiosnycratic side effects and routes of administration has me sweating. I need some support here, but I also need to keep it simple. I own Lipincott’s Illustrated Pharmacology ($45) from when I took the course and while I didn’t like it as a stand-alone text, it should do fine for review. I also like the layout and portability of
Pharmacology for the Boards and Wards ($35) and decide to pick that up as well. Both books have very high ratings and useful tables.
Biostatistics/Behavioral Science
Not my strongest subjects or my weakest, word on the street is that people blow these sections off and it burns them on the test. I have some notes from when I took this class, but it was 3rd term, the same term where I
blew off school to work on research and dissections, so I need some help. After looking through both the High Yield Biostatistics ($25) and Behavioral Science ($25), I’m thrilled with how short they are, their ratings, and their readability (one chapter each, in the store). I’m sure that these will do.
So those are the review books that I bought for the USMLE Step 1. The tab, after tax, came to $380. Normally, I’d wince. But for this test, I’m not cutting corners or using old editions. Maybe it’s a dumb move, but it makes me feel better.
Return to USMLE Step 1 page.
]]>Grand Rounds is up at Musings of a Distractible Mind. The theme is things that explode.
]]>Besides being a one-stop-shop for all things USMLE, the greatest strength of this site is their forums. You can talk with thousands of other students about their strategies, their book choices, enourmous pools ranking review books in every category, etc.
https://www.testprepreview.com/
Several online quizzes in each subcategory that you will see on the Boards, complete with a description of the question breakdown by percentages that you will see on test day (rough estimate).
https://www.usmle.org (Orientation Materials)
Information from the horse’s mouth. Information on recent changes to the test, preview of the materials provided on the test day, sample test questions, instructions on taking diagnostic tests and a very helpful FAQ. A necessary bookmark.
There are also helpul descriptions of the test and how to mentally steel yourself in the First Aid for the USMLE review book and Kaplan’s QBook. So now that you I know a little more about my test, how should I prepare for it? Medstudents (like me) love to think that their advice is important and they like to write about it. So where is all of this great advice?
This blog was set up and maintained for the express purpose of cataloging one student’s adventure with the USMLE. The author is an FMG (like me) and the observations he makes on the process are great, making for an easy read. His story has a happy ending; he finishes with a 248/99. You can read the entire blog in under twenty minutes.
Alpha Omega Alpha
This is the nationwide medical honors society and University of Illinois chapter has some dedicated members. USMLE Study Tips is a feature that is updated often with several members’ impressions and advice about what it took for them to prepare. Many of these entries are very useful.
Graham Azon, medical student extrodinaire, wrote a short post about the very basics that he used in prep for the Boards. I agree with most of his suggestions.
Return to USMLE Step 1 page.
]]>Second, the medico-economics of health care continues to fascinate/infuriate me. I’m a Pessimistic Kantian, so if I’m going to walk around wishing that someone had already written a personal guide to explain this to me then my ethic dictates that I have to make one myself (since I wish some future-self had saved me the trouble). I’ll be gathering what I can online and bringing it here for your easy consumption as “My Health Care Education.”
Third (and a sensitive topic for those in the Caribbean), I am applying for transfer to a US medical school in March with the possibility of interviewing in June/July of 2007. This will be interesting for me because 1) I have no idea how to go about it as information for prospective transfers isn’t exactly advertised or accessible at SGU, 2) I may end up producing a helpful guide while publicly failing myself, and 3) I’ll get to address some of the reasons why I think transferring is an important step for me and whether that contradicts what I’ve written (a guide about how great SGU is) and said (with MedScape) previously. “Transferring from a Caribbean Medical School” should be interesting.
But that all starts in a week. In the meantime, I’d like to draw your attention to the updated “SGU Guides.” Whereas before it was simply a link to the Welcome to Grenada site, it now has a menu of things I’ve written that don’t fit easily into the longer version but still deserve a home. I hope it helps.
Cheers for now, topher.
]]>Where did you get the idea that Universal Health Care meant that the Doctor was not compensated for his services? My understanding is that you (the Doctor) would be compensated for your services, at a possibly reduced rate the same as Medicare and Medicaid compensate the Doctors. While I know this is not the full amount, you are under no obligation to accept the patient in the first place. There are Doctors all over this country that do not accept Medicare patients for this exact reason. However, if you hope to have Hospital privileges, the Hospital’s policy will trump yours.
Just curious. Mom.
For some background, she is responding to my post No Right to Health Care. I wrote it because the more I read about Medicare, Medicaid, and the “funding” of physician services (hat tips to KevinMD) the more frustrated I get. It’s been happening a lot lately. It’s the frustration of having to enter a system that (in my mind) shouldn’t be allowed to function the way that it does.
I’m a strong believer in markets. I believe in the meeting of supply, demand, and value complete with a fulminate crush on Dagny Taggart. These days, I’m frustrated over that fact that the value of the service that a physician provides is not strongly coupled to what he can charge, and instead his recourse is to make his salary through volume. I started writing this during exams, so in that spirit I offer you a medico-economic vignette.
***************
The value of having access to a physician (let’s say you have diabetes) that can take an active role in your care, help you correct some mistakes that are leading to uncontrolled glucose levels, and not only extend your life but help you extend it without the complications of the disease is incredible! But as only one man, the number of people for whom he can do this is limited. His service is not scalable.
Even if this person has their own insurance to pay for this care, that payment is likely standardized (we pay $25 per check-up, $40 for new patient consult) and based off of the standardized prices from Medicare/Medicaid. Even if the patient isn’t on these government programs, he is still affected by their prices. So our doctor has little control over the price he can charge.
For a patient with options (amazing Dr. A or mediocre Dr. B), her power in the market is to choose which physician gets her business. Dr. A’s power in the market is to provide a better service so that patients will choose him over Dr. B. But this is only an advantage so long as 1) Dr. A has the space in his practice to accept this patient and 2) there aren’t enough patients for Dr. A and Dr. B to both have full practices. If there were too many patients for Dr. A and Dr. B to handle, then it wouldn’t matter which was better since everyone needs to see a doctor (in our two doctor microcosm) and both practices are full.
Now Dr. A is working full time, handling as many patients as he can in a manner that is still excellent, and he is not making enough money (under the fixed pricing) to pay the bills for his practice, malpractice insurance, employee wages, and to then pay himself a wage befitting someone excellent. Because he cannot change what he charges, he must make it up in volume. The only way for him to increase his volume is to drop the quality of his service and speed up his appointments. He does this.
His patients are less satisfied on average and he is less satisfied on average. But he has to pay the bills and he has to pay himself a salary that makes running his own practice more attractive than quitting for hospital work, so he continues with the higher volume. The prices do not change with inflation and the vise tightens. He is forced to do cosmetic procedures on the side like Botox injections and instead of popping a cyst on a teenager’s face, he lances it so it will qualify as a “procedure” (which pays better). He makes Friday “Stress Test Day” and has every one of his Congestive Heart Failure patients come in for a complete workup because insurance pays well for this. He didn’t get into medicine to be fixing wrinkles or to spend his time figuring out ways to game the system of physician reimbursement. He just wants to do his job, at his price, and help people in the way that he finds rewarding.
Now his insurance premiums have gone up. Unlike his pay, the increase in insurance premiums has kept a healthy lead on inflation. If he continues running his practice this way, he’ll go bankrupt and lose it. He doesn’t want to even think about what would happen should one of his patients sue right now. It would ruin him. So he decides to opt-out.
He’s heard (everyone has) about concierge medicine and “cash only” clinics. Opting Out means no more worrying about Medicare codes and billing procedures. No more being second-guessed by insurance companies saying that they will not reimburse for a CT because they don’t feel it was indicated (no, they didn’t go to medical school and no, they have never seen a patient). No more having to worry about a piece of legislation that would cut Medicare reimbursement by 5%.
Only he’s trapped. In the interim of dropping his Medicare patients, seeing to it that his billing is changed and that no new claims are filled in the next two years, and educating his patients about the changes, his malpractice insurance premiums continue to consume what’s left and he has no chance for air. Gulliver himself couldn’t escape the net of obligations that are binding him to this system and taking away his freedom. In the time it takes to change, he’ll be bankrupt anyway. He closes the money-sink that was once his shining creation. He locks the door on his practice.
***************
Right now, this is what medicine looks like to me. Terrifying, right? I have hopes on hopes that I am wrong and that there is a way to avoid Dr. A’s fate (maybe I’m awfulizing). And I know that there are plenty of doctors running practices, making money, and living comfortably but unless they are completely free of the forces that took down Dr. A in my example, they’re just the last line before the firing squad. Even if I manage to escape it (as physicians do by having concierge or cash-only practices from the start), I don’t want any other physicians to have to deal with it. It’s unjust.
I know that I don’t have the whole story and that a few times in my example it might seem like I’m getting ready to fight a windmill, but I do want the whole story and am desperate for it. This winter break I’ll be reading books on the Health Care system for leisure! I want this information before I’m going to need it. I don’t know about others, but my medical school doesn’t have any sort of class or series of lectures to prepare us for the business of medicine and from what I’ve heard, you’re supposed to just sort of “pick it up.” No thanks.
All of this has me seriously considering (I’ve all but paid the registration fees) to take time off from medical school (or between graduation and residency) to get an MBA. These fears have also made me want to have an active role and voice in stopping the machine that’s eating away at the livelihood of physicians (the potential of a well-read blog). There are many heads to the Hydra, and if that means changing Medicare/Medicaid/Insurance to instead be a promise from the government or insurance company to fully reimburse a physician (based on his established prices) or taking the verdicts of malpractice cases away from citizens and putting them in the hands of medically-trained judges in some sort of specialized Health Court, so be it.
You need look no further than the field of cosmetic surgery to see how this should all be working in the first place. If he had been a surgeon, Surgeon A would have the freedom to change his patient volume and price in response to increased demand for his excellent services. Mediocre Surgeon B would have less demand at the same price, but could increase that demand by lowering his price and then still make a good wage through an increase in volume. While Surgeon A will always have the ability to make more than Surgeon B, they both have the freedom to make what they’re worth in the market of cosmetic procedures. Patients win under this system as well. They have the power to trade the outcome/risk of the procedure (as it differs between surgeons A and B) against the price, and may choose the increased risk of having an unfavorable Rhinoplasty under Surgeon B (the risk is acceptably small to them) for a savings of $5,000 on the procedure. And by participating in this market, the patient’s demand ensures that there will always be a supply of surgeons vying for their business.
Cosmetic surgery is this wonderful exception because the majority of it is not governed by the pricing of any organization other than the market for the service.
I wish all of medicine was operating in this way and am not excited that it isn’t. I do not want to enter a system where my hands are tied (price control outside of market forces), I’m blindfolded (no business education), and I have no power to change it. It removes incentives for physicians to do better (as does any ceiling) and I think everyone is worse off (except the insurance company).
Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit, and tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes, I will be brief: that’s why I was upset about the idea of a right to Health Care the other day. I believe that if legislation was ever passed to make this happen, it would be underfunded and the taxpayers wouldn’t pick up the tab (as paying for things is politically unpopular). The coins would instead come out of the physicians’ pockets, squeezed with a few more turns of the screw. And who are physicians to complain? We’re in it to help people so why would we care about the money? Isn’t it our duty and moral obligation to provide care to the sick and injured, regardless of ability to pay?
And my answer today, as it was yesterday, is no. It is shortsighted to think that ignoring the value of a service results in the best for anyone or that physicians feel obligated to provide something that is valued (in theory) but not rewarded (in practice). I believe in the opposite approach. Paying attention to the value of a service and rewarding the difference gives everyone the incentive and ability to do better and gives the consumer better options for obtaining it. If you still don’t believe me that this matters and that physicians do care about the rewards of their service, then go to any medical school on Graduation day. Look to your left, look to your right. Neither of them will be going into Family Practice.
P.S. For any physician that reads this, shakes his or her head and then mumbles, “You. Idiot.” please take the time to tell me what I’m missing. I cared enough and it bothered me enough to write this long thing, so it goes without saying that I would want to know what’s right more than I care to avoid the embarrassment of being publicly wrong. I know I’m over my head here, so please use the comments section to give me the education that I so sorely need.
Cheers, and thanks for sticking around till the end. topher.
]]>The Man on the Table Was 97, but He Devised the Surgery
]]>As he sat alone, [Dr. Debakey] decided that a ballooning had probably weakened the aorta, the main artery leading from the heart, and that the inner lining of the artery had torn, known as a dissecting aortic aneurysm.
No one in the world was more qualified to make that diagnosis than Dr. DeBakey because, as a younger man, he devised the operation to repair such torn aortas, a condition virtually always fatal. The operation has been performed at least 10,000 times around the world and is among the most demanding for surgeons and patients.
Over the past 60 years, Dr. DeBakey has changed the way heart surgery is performed. He was one of the first to perform coronary bypass operations. He trained generations of surgeons at the Baylor College of Medicine; operated on more than 60,000 patients; and in 1996 was summoned to Moscow by Boris Yeltsin, then the president of Russia, to aid in his quintuple heart bypass operation.
Now Dr. DeBakey is making history in a different way — as a patient. He was released from Methodist Hospital in Houston in September and is back at work. At 98, he is the oldest survivor of his own operation, proving that a healthy man of his age could endure it.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to figure out the Cp of my wireless router.
Cheers, topher.
]]>
**This post’s content and format was inspired by The Simple Dollar.**
You can bring 100lbs+ to school but can only return home with 50lb and now you have to decide what stays and what goes. Ready to pull out your hair?
When coming to the islands (either Grenada or St. Vincent), a typical flight takes you to San Juan on American Airlines followed by a prop plane taking you the rest of the way (American Eagle, Caribbean Star/Sun, Liat, etc.). To benefit from the business of the larger companies, these smaller island carriers agree to handle the promised luggage allowance. So coming to the islands, I was allowed 2 x 50lb checked luggage, 1 x 40lb carry on and a 1 x personal bag not to exceed 15lb. For those keeping track at home, that’s 155lbs.
These smaller airlines have smaller airplanes and so cannot possibly take all of this promised luggage, so instead they take what they can with each flight and come back for the rest later. This means that most students coming to the islands wait a few days to receive everything.
Going back is a different story. The larger airline may have changed its guidlines and will now allow two checked bags not to exceed 70lbs in total (that’s a loss of 30lbs) or the smaller airline may decide (at their discretion) not to honor your previous luggage allowance when leaving the islands and restrict you to a single 50lb bag.
So what are you to do? Many students donate piles on piles of clothes to charity, others pay FedEx or Amerijet to ship their items home, but very rarely is this cost effective. Why pay $200 to ship 40lbs of used books? So nerd that I am, I suggest the following:
Let’s say you have the worst case scenario of one 50lb bag and one carry on. First, weigh the bag and subtract that from the total. If you have a soft bag with rollers and a metal back brace housing a retractable handle, this weighs around 7lbs.
Now that we’re only working with 43lbs, it’s time to separate the wheat from the chaff.
- Identify items that are truly invaluable i.e. they cannot be replaced and under any circumstances (non-digital photos, hand-written lecture notes, annoying yearbook you made everyone sign). Weigh these and place them in your bag. Subtract from total.
- This category does not include your computer, digital camera, text books, etc. as these can be replaced.
- Assign each item a packing coefficient (Cp). To do this, decide the monetary value of an item and divide that by its weight. Your coefficient for each item will be in units of $/lb. Here are a few examples:
- Braun Activator Shaver, used one year. Originally $150 now $80. Weight 6 ounces (half a pound).
- Cp = $80/0.5lb = $160/lb. A high coefficient!
- Motioncomputing Tablet Computer, used two years. Originally $3,000 now $1800. Weight 3lb.
- Cp = $1,800/3lb = $600/lb. Extremely high coefficient.
- Hanes white t-shirt, used one year. Originally $1.5 now $0.1. Weight 2 ounces.
- Cp = $0.1/0.125lb = $0.8/lb. Should probably just throw away.
- Braun Activator Shaver, used one year. Originally $150 now $80. Weight 6 ounces (half a pound).
- Rank your items in a descending fashion.
- Increase the worth of your suitcase by filling it, starting with the highest Cp items and working your way down until you have reached your weight limit.
- Armed with the knowledge that it costs you money to bring anything else, donate the rest to charity!
While I expected most of my shirts to be worthless, I was shocked to find that my beloved textbooks were worth less for their weight than my denim jeans (the little black dress is for illustration, I do not wear dresses in my spare time). Had I not gone through this exercise (originally for fun, I’ll admit), I certainly would have tried to save the books and then lost money back home buying a new pair of pants.
Ahh, the fruits of nerd labor.
DISCLAIMER: Stictly using Cp is effective if we assume that the space that each item occupies is negligable, i.e. to be truly complete we would have to factor in the volume that each item occupied and for that calculation, price/density (price/mass/volume) would have been more appropriate.
For example, nice bedding with a Cp of 40 might end up taking half the space in your luggage, thereby preventing you from using that same space to add more items at lower Cp, the sum of which would exceed the bedding’s worth. Fortunately, this is rarely an issue and we can concern ourselves with price and pounds alone.
]]>And unless you’re the type to find the fun in anything, it can be a real pain in the ass. Publications have their own stale version of english where nothing can be said that someone hasn’t already said (citations) and when two papers offer conflicting results the most that one can say about the other is something like, “we attribute the difference in findings with X to be due to criteria for inclusion and dissecting technique.” Translated: “The other guys can’t dissect for shit so missed this important finding.” It’s all very WASP-y.
But sometimes you find authors that are not afraid to drop the pretence or (and more rewarding) use the sweet tact to deliver posion. Of course, these authors are British.
- The Elusive Coypu: the importance of collateral flow and the search for an alternative to the dog.
- “There are several ‘villains’ in this story: (i) researchers who convinced themselves that myocytes could stay alive without blood; (ii) authors who discarded (or journal editors who refused to publish) negative studies; (iii) dogs that had too much and too variable collateral flow; (iv) legislation and animal suppluers that made the use of canine preparations) and an intriguing alternative [the coypu] impossible or prohibitively expensive; and (v) a UK government plot to exterminate the coypu (nutria).”
- “Interstingly, the guinea pig heart was found to be totally collateralized making it impossible to induce infarction in this species — how great it would be if the human had the coronary artery anatomy genes of the guinea pig!”
- Parachute use to prevent death and major trauma related to gravitational challenge: systematic review of randomised controlled trials
- Conclusions As with many interventions intended to prevent ill health, the effectiveness of parachutes has not been subjected to rigorous evaluation by using randomised controlled trials. Advocates of evidence based medicine have criticised the adoption of interventions evaluated by using only observational data. We think that everyone might benefit if the most radical protagonists of evidence based medicine organised and participated in a double blind, randomised, placebo controlled, crossover trial of the parachute.
Instead, I am simply ready for it to be over. After two years of staring at books, notes and PowerPoints I feel like the velcro has worn through and things are sticking less. I need a change of scenery and a change of context. Studying for the Boards followed by a 6 week vacation in Southeast Asia will go a long way to resetting things, but moving to New York and working in a hospital every day with patients as test material will be the thing that keeps me going. That this is ending now is just great timing.
Goodbye, St. Vincent.
]]>
I’m in medical school (partly) because I can’t shut my brain off and need to constantly be assuming information. Boredom is a fate worse than death and this field is the balm. So aside from reading about Infectious Diseases for my Pathophysiology exam this Thursday, I’m also reading the blogs of Cosmologists, Financial Advisors, Politics, and Economists. Today, we have synergy.
In Infectious Diseases, I’ve just learned about the rates for sexual exposure to HIV among different groups.
- Male exposes Female (1/200 – 1/2000)
- Female exposes Male (1/700 – 1/3000)
- Male exposes Male (1/10 – 1/1,600)
Do those look low to you? These rates are not sufficiently high to either cause or sustain an epidemic! So how the hell are these epidemics sustained in Africa? The hypothesis provided in my notes:
- HIV transmission rates are too low to explaoin the epidemic
- HIV transmission is intermittently amplified by increasing genital tract shedding
- Amplified transmission is critical to the spread of HIV
So imagine my absolute excitement to find this article by the famous economist, Emily Osler! Three Things You Don’t Know About AIDS in Africa.
- It’s the wrong disease to attack
- It won’t disappear until poverty does
- There is less of it than we thought, but it’s spreading as fast as ever
I encourage you to read it for yourself. But we’re not done yet. If you really want to stretch your mind, you have to surround yourself with mind-stretching ideas. That’s where TED comes in. Technology Education Design is an annual conference that brings together remarkable people from around the world into one space to share something valuable: their ideas. I subscribe to the TEDTalks Podcast and often listen to these 20 minute videos again and again (if you don’t use iTunes, you can listen to them on the web here). And thanks to this wonderful resource, I’ve learned about Larry Brilliant. He is a physician and his life story is remarkable including living in India for 10 years studying under a Hindu sage, becoming a diplomat for the United Nations, and in his capacity as an epidemiologist he presiding over the last case of smallpox on the planet. In his talk (you can listen to it here) he describes the effort it took to hunt down the disease, door to door, over and over, for years. He’s amazing, and it will take people like him to actually take what we are learning about the spread of AIDS in Africa and actually turn that information into eradication.
And I wouldn’t have put any of this together if I had decided to study something else.
]]>So I read a lot and a good portion of it is worth sharing. If you’d like to see everything that I think is worth sharing, click here. While I can’t contribute just now (test tomorrow morning and on Thursday, followed by celebration for finishing up the first two years of medical school) I thought I’d offer a few links to keep you busy.
Aggravated DocSurg writes,
“I belong to this quirky group of docs that gets together once a month — we have a few adult beverages and a nice dinner, and then each evening two of us give a talk.”
He then gives us his story about Rudolf Erich Raspe. I have read this article three times over and still want to read it again. I can’t imagine the thunderous applause that greeted him when he finished. If you’re like me and want to know more after reading it for the fourth time, bone up on “The Surprising Adventures of Baron Munchausen.”
Steve Mirsky writes Antigravity for Scientific American and he always gets a laugh out of me. This article was one of his best.
It came as quite a shock recently when the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard turned out to come from England. I had assumed it would be from the U.S., but no. Anyway, here it is. A government minister said that some pregnant British teenagers were purposely smoking during their entire pregnancies to try to have low-birth-weight babies, which would make for easier deliveries. Even more breathtaking than smoking itself, isn’t it? Take a moment to get a bandage for where you hit your head when you passed out just now.
Surprisingly, the post I wrote about a Lazy Attack on Atheism sparked some interest. I made the claim that monkeys have morals and that moral systems arise in nature without the need for dogma. This article explores some experiments that ask the same question:
He describes one of his best-known demonstrations that animals care about fairness. In the experiment, he had pairs of capuchin monkeys perform simple tasks in their cages. For successfully completing each task they would get a reward, sometimes a slice of cucumber, sometimes a grape. All the monkeys would work for and eat the cucumber slices, but they preferred grapes. If one monkey kept getting paid in cucumber and it could see that its partner in the next cage was getting grapes, it would get mad, like Darwin’s Jenny. After a while the monkey would refuse to eat or throw the cucumber right out of the cage.
Is religion good for society? Science’s definitive answer: it depends.
“In general, higher rates of belief in and worship of a creator correlate with higher rates of homicide, juvenile and early adult mortality, STD [sexually transmitted disease] infection rates, teen pregnancy, and abortion in the prosperous democracies,”
“[W]hen it comes to charitable giving and volunteering, numerous quantitative measures debunk the myth of “bleeding heart liberals” and “heartless conservatives.” Conservatives donate 30 percent more money than liberals (even when controlled for income), give more blood and log more volunteer hours. “
My God Problem by Natalie Angier is incredibly well-written (she won the Pulitzer Prize as a science journalist for The New York Times). In this article, she takes scientists to task for bemoaning the general public’s belief that evolution is something less than a fact while remaining mum over the “77 percent of Americans who insist that Jesus was born to a virgin, an act of parthenogenesis that defies everything we know about mammalian genetics and reproduction.” I wish I wrote as well.
]]>I’m against it and here is why.
When we think of our rights, we often think about the Bill of Rights and the Amendments. The right to bear arms, the protection from unreasonable search, the right to peaceful assembly and the right of free speech. The common thread in these rights is that they
- cost nothing to maintain or respect
- requires other persons to refrain from violating it in order to fulfill it
These are referred to as Negative rights. If you leave me alone and I leave you alone, we have maintained these rights and violated nothing. Now if you look at the proposed Right to Health Care, you will notice that this fails both of these standards. It instead
- costs a great deal
- requires other persons to perform a service in order to fulfill it
These are referred to as Positive rights. Under this right, if I fail to provide you the service of Health Care, I am violating your right to my service. And now we reach the crux of my argument:
I do not recognize your right to my service. I instead take this time to remind you of Section 1 of the Thirteenth Amendment which states:
Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted, shall exist within the United States, or any place subject to their jurisdiction.
Dramatic, no? The Thirteenth Amendment is a perfect example of a negative right and I find it defensible as such. If you’d like a more contemporary quote, you need go no further than Ayn Rand:
“I swear by my life, and my love of it, that I will never live for the sake of another man, nor ask another man to live for mine.”
I think that the goal of providing Universal Health Care ffor the United States is an admirable one, but I object to the justification used and the way people want to implement it. But that’s for another post. In the meantime, if a proponent of Universal Health Care cannot successfully address my simple argument above, then that person needs to seriously reevaluate their support of the idea and their attacks against physicians (both present and future) that object to it.
Though I am training to provide a service, that does not make me your servant.
Wikipedia has a great entry on Positive and Negative rights.
]]>I’m incredibly proud of the work that’s now over. Coming in at 11,000 words, it’s about as long as an Atul Gawande article with about 1/11,000 of the readership.
“Welcome to Grenada, A Student’s Guide for Students” began in April of 2005 as a seven-page introduction to your new life on the island. It has since swelled to include information and advice for the first two years of island living. With our fingers crossed, we hope it eventually has information for the clinical years, interviewing for residency, and a guide to the match (with specifics for FMGs).
The editors believe in the power of honesty. If I told you that everything was perfect, would you believe anything I said? With that in mind, we hope you find our honest take on attending Saint George’s University to be helpful and that by showing you the rust you will appreciate the shine. For more on why we wrote this and our general mission statement, please read the Letter From the Editors.
And with that, I am exhausted. A lot has happened and the telling will all have to wait until I’m sipping egg nog, wearing a ridiculous sweater, and enjoying being the tannest man in the room.
Happy Holidays, topher.
]]>
He refused the joint. They were heading back from Prospect on Colin’s truck. He always sat on the edge of the bed, back curled forward so his hands could hold the frame and with his legs splayed for balance. It had rained earlier, and his plastic sandals weren’t much use to him against the metal. He kicked them off.
This was his third month with work. Yesterday he bought a wallet to hold his money since selling the last one some time ago. He felt worth something again to have so much. Colin and his brothers had started giving him lifts home since the second week. They were his new friends and this ride home was the highlight of his day. He knew its every inch.
He knew just where to lean. Past Git’s Supermarket there was a hard bend to the right with a pot hole. He would normally lean into the turn, but Colin had two beers tonight and would probably forget the dip. At the turn he leaned opposite as the wheel fell, dropping the weight of the car, and he kept his balance. Andrew didn’t know his brother as well and tumbled from his seat into the bed of the truck. He kept silent while the three others laughed. They teased him, “What matter wit you, boy? An’t you learn from d’old man? You don see him fall!” He had mastered these roads.
He knew the importance of details. Details mattered. He saw men with soiled clothes and recognized them. The lines of dirt on a man’s shirt shifted between begging and honest work, and he knew this. He saw it in his own sleeve slapping around his arm and he leaned his sholder forward against the wind, proud of the difference. Details mattered. His callouses were his proof.
He took the beer from Andrew. Colin was driving faster tonight and the smooth level spaces between bends and holes were shortening. He timed it to take a sip without knocking his teeth. He leaned to hand the beer back when Colin jerked the wheel. He had taken the last turn too quickly, too close to the center of the road, and swerved to avoid a car he should have seen.
He fell backwards. His bare feet lifted from the truck bed as he reached down for the lip. The beer still in his hand he didn’t think to drop it even as he balanced off the edge, half in and out of safety. Colin swerved back on course but into another hole. The dip and bounce of the bed sent him straight into the air. The truck kept moving forward while he hung there, still. He landed on the pavement flat on his back.
****************************
“Did you hear about the accident?”
“No, what happened?”
“There was an accident in Calliaqua, right by that road that forks off to our apartment. I don’t know if it was just the one car or if there was another car, but it looked pretty bad.”
“Did you see anything?”
“The cops had everything closed off and traffic was backed up all the way to Marco May’s. We didn’t get a look to see if anyone was hurt but the one car hit that concrete wall, you know, that serparates the soccer field? Anyway, it was right at five as we were coming to campus so we didn’t stop to ask any questions, but Jess saw it later and said that a bunch of people were sent to the hospital. She thinks someone died, but she’s not sure or anything. She says there was another car but it drove off.”
“Did anyone say how it happened?”
“Oh, you know, driving like fucking idiots with their brights on, too fast, and probably passing someone so they can hurry up and do nothing. I swear to God, I’m surprised there isn’t an accident every day with how dangerous they are. Serves them right. I can’t count the number of times I thought I was going to be hit head-on by one of those assholes trying to pass another car into oncoming traffic! Where am I supposed to go, buddy? The road’s only two cars wide! And it’s not like they give a damn, either. I’ve seen them just about run a Learner off the road before because they were driving too slow. I’m sorry, but with the way they drive they’re asking for it.”
“Yeah. Oh, did you hear about the truck we were behind the other day? The one with the boxes?”
“No.”
“So we’re in Georgetown coming back from the hospital and we turn onto the main road behind this flatbed full of boxes, and there’s only one string holding it to the frame and one guy sitting on top of them, like a hundred boxes, just bouncing up and down. So I said to everyone in the car, ‘Anyone placing bets that one of these boxes falls out?’ Everyone laughed but then a half-mile later I notice that the boxes started shifting, so I honked at the guy on the boxes and he looks at me like I’m crazy. Just then, two boxes fall off in front of our car and I don’t know what’s in them, so I slam on the brakes. The reggae bus behind me has been riding my bumper so he swerves into traffic to avoid hitting me. He burns the rubber on his tires and the truck in front of us stops. So we passed him and the guy in the back and the guy driving don’t say sorry or anything. The guy on the boxes shrugs his shoulders and the guy driving looks at us like we caused the fucking accident! Can you believe that?”
“Fucking idiots.”
****************************
“What hospital rotation do you have today?”
“Pathology, it’s our last one.”
“Oh, I heard somebody died last night in a car accident. I think they autopsy those people. Maybe you’ll get to do it.”
“Hope so. I’ll let you know when we get back.” I grab the keys off the doorway nail. Since our last exams, St. Vincent has looked so beautiful. Everyday has been bright blues and greens with orange at night and it has taken me longer and longer to leave our house on the hill. No one had our view. I walk to the car slowly, staring at all the ships, annoying my roommates who are sweating already. It’s so hot here.
We drive down the hill, riding the brakes. Any faster, any momentum at all, and the brakes won’t catch again. We have to always inch, slowly grinding away the brakes that already fail us. The longest sight line is less than 60 yards and most are less than 40. Coming down to the main road on rises, dips, lefts and rights with the honk of my horn the only thing saving my life, traveling ahead of me as a warning, has become mundane. The roads are all so narrow, maybe the width of two cars plus a foot, and it has made us experts at depth perception. We know down to the inch what width of our tire we can hang into the gutters. We don’t think twice about pulling in the sideview mirrors when passing. We don’t hold our breath anymore and cringe, because there’s just no point.
The polution is terrible on the roads with every other truck belching blue smoke, burning. There are no sidewalks and pedestrains share the cramped space. Nobody flinches anymore, not even when a car clips a purse. It’s expected. In the city, close to the hospital we play a game of spotting “crazies” to keep things interesting. There’s Travelcrazy, the man that walks around with wheeled luggage, his penis out of his skivees. There’s Angrycrazy, the man that walks up to any white tourist and starts screaming about his money and where is it. There’s Dancingcrazy with his bright red shorts and single flipflop who is never far from the speaker store. And our favorite, BoyScoutcrazy, with his black boots studded with pins and his revealing green shorts. His red sash is covered with badges and authority as he stands in the streets directing traffic. As a police officer chases him away we wonder where he found such a complete uniform and we take guesses at his Eagle Scout project.
“Spreading crazy,” someone answers.
Dr. Wilson takes the five of us from his office to the Path lab. We leave the hospital, down an alley towards the back. Behind Cato Hospital is the Georgetown cemetary. It can be seen from every floor of the hospital, inspiring confidence. There’s nothing here but a shed and of course this is it. It’s small, maybe 20′ by 25′. The body is on the table. Tina says she might pass out and that we should catch her if she does. We each grab a mask and start buttoning up our white coats as his assistant unzips the body.
He’s not gentle and this always bothers people the first time. It takes a while to get used to the dead as dead. As he pushes and pulls the man free, I see his sunken cheeks and grey hair. He doesn’t have a stitch of fat on him; every muscle is obvious. His right forearm is completely broken and even I cringe as the assistant grabs his hand and wrenches the arm backwards, trying to take off his shirt. His pants and underwear join the heap on the floor.
We crowd around, looking for injuries. Besides a cut lip and a broken arm, we can’t find anything. The assistant slides a block underneath his shoulder blades, forcing his chest to jut out towards the ceiling. His head doesn’t fall back immediately, but slowly because he’s cold and his neck muscles are still contracted. It almost looks likes he’s trying to keep it up. I look around to see if anyone else saw it, but they’re all looking at Dr. Wilson. Dr. Wilson picks up his scalpel and in two quick cuts, one up and one down, splays him open. Across the room you can see each mask pulled taught between our noses and jaws. We hadn’t prepared ourselves.
****************************
Wow that was fast. I think I’m going to be sick. What is he doing? Why is he hacking away at the chest? “Now, I am looking for cracks in the ribs. As a pathologist, you have to establish cause of death. The lack of obvious external injury should have you thinking of other causes such as internal hemorrhage, asphxiation, or brain damage. I am separating the pectoralis from the chest wall and inspecting each rib to rule out lung puncture and tension pneumothorax.” We never dissected like this. Anatomy lab would have been over in two days. God, it smells. Oh no. Please don’t go to the intestines. Please stay up at the chest. “Before sawing open the rib cage, we will inspect the bowel. Here is the duodenum. I’m pulling on the first part and you can see that the remainder is retroperitoneal, so I’m going to tie this off and cut it. Now we can easily pull the intestines out be cutting through the mesentery and checking for hemorrhages.” Thank God for the A/C. “As you can see, the small intestine is quite long. Here, see this hemorrhage?”
“That wasn’t the cause of death, right?”
“No, it’s much too small. This probably happened at the time of injury but didn’t contribute to his death. You see tears like this due to shearing forces from a fall or other blunt trauma. Now look here. Can you see this inguinal hernia? His scrotum contains some small intestine and watch as I pull it free…there. This bowel is not strangulated and you can see that the scrotal skin has stretched to accept it. He likely had this hernia for some time.” I can’t believe he’s dissecting with a saw. Isn’t he afraid he’ll cut something important? “Now that we’ve freed the colon I’m just going to cut around…the…rectum…there. His entire bowel is now free.” So, he doesn’t have a rectum now. He is rectum-less. This is too much. Ugh. “Now as I cut open the baldder…” Muah ha ha ha ha! “…sometimes that happens. It’s just a little urine. Was anyone hit?”
“I was.”
“You buttoned up your coat. Smart man.” He had to have done that on purpose. There’s no way he didn’t know that was going to happen. I’m standing back here from now on. “You can see that the bladder surface is trabeculated. This happens with obstruction and increased pressure. At his age you expect prostatic hyperplasia, but we should make sure to look for signs of obstruction in his kidneys as well. See this? All you have to do is cut open the prostate and you find a little stone in his urethra. Roni, can you hand me the saw?”
“Tina, are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m alright. Thanks for asking.”
“Dr. Wilson, the family’s here to identify the body.”
“Is a police officer here?”
“No.”
“Tell them to come back in an hour. Honestly, I told them to be here at one o’clock. It’s two-thirty. I’m so tired of waiting for people to get their act together. The families are never on time. Okay, now with the ribcage gone we have a good view of the lungs and heart.”
“He was a smoker?”
“I don’t think so. His beard isn’t stained and neither are his fingers. You see a lot of this blue mottling of the lungs because of all the polution, especially in the lungs of pedestrians. Roni, can you grab me the laddle?” Oh my God that’s a lot of blood. I can’t believe how much blood there is hiding under the lungs. His lungs look so sick. They just squish as the laddle pushes them out of the way and fills again. I think I’m going to vomit. “One liter. Now you can see as we get most of the fluid out of the way we get to the clots that have congealed and settled at the bottom. Looks like red cranberry sauce, no?” I can’t take it.
“Tina, you okay?”
“Yeah, I just need a minute.”
“One and a half liters of blood on each side. Okay, now we’ll take out the mediastinum and the foregut and, Roni, can you get started on the skull?” Breath. Stand under the A/C. Keep it together, Tina. You can do this. This can’t take much longer. Just push it out of your head. This is your last day. “Now…you can separate the pharynx and larynx…from the floor of the mouth…there…” What is that in his hand? Is that a tongue? Oh my God that’s his tongue. “…and you can run the blade against the spine as you pull…and everything comes right out!” I don’t know if that was the most amazing or horrible thing I’ve ever seen. He just pulled the man’s tongue out from his CHEST and took the heart, aorta, IVC, lungs, liver, pancreas, stomach and esophagus with it. All in one piece. Everything is backwards. That was amazing.
What is that?!
“Can everyone see this? See this here? The posterior surface of his aorta is torn horizontally and you can see the massive amount of hemorrhage around it. This was the likely cause of death.”
“That’s horrible. Would he have even known? That much blood that fast you’d think he’d immediately pass out and stop breathing. Right?”
“Maybe; maybe not. You can’t know if the tear was immediately this size or if it expanded with the hemorrhage.”
****************************
“Well that was an amazing last day! Twenty-one hospital visits with a bullet!”
“I can’t believe that guy’s organs. They were perfect. No sign of any real disease. Even his aorta was pristine. Did you see a single fatty streak?”
“Nope. And his heart was fine. His liver was fine. Other than his lungs, that guy should have lived to one hundred. I wish we had seen that sort of thing at the end of anatomy; would have been a great review.”
“I kept wishing I had gloves on. I wanted to touch his organs so bad, see what they felt like before they were pickled with formaldehyde. And when he cut the organs into sections like a loaf of bread? That was awesome! I wish I could see that again.”
“Anybody catch his name? I think I want to write this up for our last assignment and all I got was ‘eighty-four years old.’”
“Nope. Did you, Sam?”
“What’s it matter? Just make up a name. Anyone else want a root beer before we head home?”
****************************
“Stop the car COLIN STOP!” Colin slammed on the brakes and the bed pitched forward sending Andrew crashing into the back of the cabin.
“Andrew, shit you alright?” He didn’t stop to answer. The old man was lying on the ground 30 yards back, his arms laying on his chest and his chin in the air. He jumped over the side of the truck and turned running. His feet were barely making contact as he closed the gap. The old man’s eyes followed him as he slid to his knees. He could barely speak.
“What’s huh huh wrong huh huh huh can you huh breathe?” The old man couldn’t. His eyes were wide and terrified and fixed on Andrew. They were pleading with him. He tried to grab onto Andrew’s shirt but couldn’t. He needed to get closer. The muscles of his neck jutted out from the skin as he lifted his head to Andrew’s. Nothing came. His lips moved but fell short of sound. All he could do was make the shape of “help.” Andrew was terrified. The old man tried again but appeared to give up. His eyes stayed fixed, his mouth still spelled “help,” but his neck relaxed.
His head cracked against the pavement.
Andrew turned to the car. “HELP!” He tried to think. “HELP!” He couldn’t see anything wrong. He didn’t know what he could fix, what he could stop from happening or make happen. He kept looking at the old man’s eyes, asking them to move when they wouldn’t. He didn’t understand. The old man had fallen but not far. It shouldn’t be this bad. The old man never fell. He shook him.
“He’s dead!” yelled one of the men from the truck. They had all stayed behind.
“Help me!”
“Get back here, fool! He’s dead and we have to get!” The car they had swerved to miss had crashed into a wall. The doors had opened and two people had stumbled out. Across the street men were coming out from the bar to watch. They were yelling at the truck full of men and coming closer. Numb, Andrew stood up and looked the men from the bar straight in the eyes. They saw him; he knew it. He looked down at the old man. He was dead. “NOW Andrew!”
He turned away running, as fast as he had come, as fast as his legs would carry him. He jumped for the bed and the other men pulled him in. He fell onto his back and laid there. Chin in the air and arms at his sides, his chest heaving away to catch every breath, he hoped there was nothing he could have done.
]]>This last week I received over 60 submissions for Grand Rounds and included 26. This decision came after sharing some Carl Jungian vibes with Kim at Emergiblog and receiving the blessing of Nick Genes of Blogborygmi. Kim has since received a great deal of attention for her critique of the swelling Grand Rounds. According to the comments, the idea’s a hit and things may change. Next week’s host, Dr. Anonymous, has already thrown down the gauntlet:
This may be my last time hosting Grand Rounds, and I may get a lot of flack (and all my future submissions may be rejected). But, hey, I’m the editor and I’m deciding what’s in and what’s out this week. Being included in Grand Rounds is not an entitlement; it’s not a right; it’s a privilege.
Whether you agree or disagree with me, my vision next week is to put the best medical STORIES (ie – first hand anedcotes) out there for people to read.
As a host I had plenty of resources and support but as an editor I was unsure about what I could and couldn’t ask from fellow bloggers. I’m offering this post as an example of how I approached the problem of writing letters to the authors and helped a few posts that were almost there get over the edge. Accepted, rejected or edited, I sent over 80 emails and received only one response that was not enthusiastic or understanding. From this, I have to assume that people are open to the idea of constructive criticism.
If you’re an author, please don’t be put off by this. As Susan pointed out to me, “editing is also an act of love, and also a compliment on the part of the editor who spent so much time on your work.” I couldn’t have said it better and hope it’s a sentiment that every author who’s asked for edits takes to heart.
Permission was granted from Susan and the Angry Medic to show the emails below.
Letter to an author I was not including:
Thanks [author] for your submission. I have decided to not include your post in this week’s Grand Rounds. While I applaud your mission statement, I feel that the issue of prevention as the next hurdle for the medical world has been adequately covered elsewhere. For Grand Rounds I’m looking for original literary pieces about the life of medicine, patient encounters and experiences, and educational pieces aimed at those already within medicine.
Sorry to disappoint, topher.
Susan’s post went through two edits. This was the first:
Hi Susan, and thanks for your submission. I’d like to include it but feel it needs one significant change before I do. The hook for this piece is the coming analogy and your basic structure is set-up, delivery of analogy, elaboration, and finally reflection. I think it works well. However, you spend five paragraphs in set-up and five-paragraphs on the rest and this feels unbalanced. The fifth paragraph is what I would like to change.
“My vision of the afterlife is that we all wind up together, with each other and God; if we’re delighted that everyone else is there, it’s heaven for us, but if we’re appalled at the state of the neighborhood because we’re next to those people — however we define them — then it’s hell.”
It is a long sentence and a repetition of the beginning of the fourth paragraph that begins “[s]o my idea (undoubtedly heretical) is that we all wind up in the same place, and “that how we respond to it determines whether it’s heaven or hell for us.”
As repetition, it hurts the flow of your writing and offers nothing new. Rereading the entire post and skipping this paragraph gets us to the analogy faster and keeps the writing tight. Between the two, I think that the opening sentence of the fourth paragraph is stronger and should stay while the long sentence should be deleted.
Let me know how you feel about this change. topher.
The Angry Medic’s post was originally longer. We went through a few edits as well:
Angry Medic, this is much better. It’s got grit, grizzle and the honesty of frustration that makes for good writing. I can’t pick up on all the changes you’ve made, but on the whole it’s a smoother read. If you’re still up for some editing, I have only a few suggestions for the post:
“Being a puny medical student, I might sometimes not be able to fully understand the disappointment of old hands like Dr Crippen, Shiny Happy Person or PaedsRN. Now, far be it from me to suggest that a simple first-aiding assignment can fully capture the frustrations of working in the NHS, but it sure did give me a damn good picture.”
These two sentences aren’t part of your story. Your story is about your frustrations with a different style of teaching and the contrast that’s brought to bear in a clinical (football) setting. By referencing the hulking mess of NHS out of the blue, you distract the reader who’s now wondering, “Where did this come from? What have I missed?” Your writing is strong enough without it and I think you could delete it.
“Some, having suffered the tiniest of cuts, came hobbling over screaming like they’d been disemboweled by a very cranky Cyclops and demanded that we clean them up repeatedly.”
The line about convincing them that women will still scream their names is very funny and makes your point about having to “hold the hands” of certain players. This sentence makes unnecessary fun (which makes you look bad) and prevents the paragraph from ending on a joke. I think deleting it is win-win.
“I’m not convinced it’s the best way to learn medicine, but in the end I don’t think it really matters. I’ve seen great doctors from Cambridge and great doctors from Hull. And it’s convinced me that, just like any other profession, it’s what’s on the inside that matters.”
This is a big change in tone from the rest of the writing. Your finish is the last thing they read and remember and should be powerful/funny/memorable like the rest of the post. After you talk about the compromise for the coat of arms, try to finish with something slightly more edgy. “Now I’ve seen great doctors from Cambridge and Hull, so I know that none of it really matters. All the same, I’d like a little more blood on my shield/crest” or something like this. You get the idea.
All in all I think the writing is solid and I look forward to including it. Thank you for being so receptive about my editing as you’d have been within your rights to say, ‘sod off.’
See you in Grand Rounds, topher.
***
Editing with Susan and AngryMedic was a lot of fun. It might look like nit-picking or other harshness, but I really liked their stories and told them so. I wanted everyone to read and enjoy them. To make sure that it happened sometimes required clipping a sentence here or moving a thought earlier or later in the post and was no different then trimming a flower to join a bouquet.
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Hello there! I am A Very Famous Historian and I welcome you to the Grand Rounds. From a field of over 60 submissions, 26 authors have been chosen to seek the Grail. It will be a dangerous journey full of peril and death may await with nasty big pointy teeth. We shall see if anyone makes it out of these woods….alive. Feel free to traipse past all quotes.
A point of disclosure: Kim has written a provocative piece about how a famous historian should edit Grand Rounds for quality and content and it has informed my every decision. I have decided to change the title to Two Bloggers, Two Voices, One Opinion. On second thought — she’s a witch and we should burn her! [everything in italics will have sound in a separate window]
Jarrad at Veritography takes a break from the living to dress like a zombie for a “Lurch” on Washington. “In an interview with heavy metal rocker Rob Zombie, I once read that when his parents asked him as a child what he wanted to be when he grew up, his answer was ‘a monster’. Now there’s a kid who really chased his dreams.” Jarrad goes on to describe “switching from George Romero shambling zombie mode to ’28 days later’ ultra fast zombie mode in order to avoid the speeding cars.” On the Virtues of Zombies is a fantastic read. Bring out your dead!
Woman: Who are the Britons?
Arthur: Well, we all are. We are all Britons, and I am your King.
Woman: I didn’t know we had a king. I thought we were an autonomous collective.
King Arthur may have benefited from a press release of some sort, but this week I’m learning that even that might not cut it. Diabetes Mine writes about The Death of the The Press Release as a tool for social (blog) marketing. Giants of the Blogosphere should take notice: the stiff, wordy offerings of old will have to go. But how should we replace them? Help Amy decide in the comments section.
Arthur: Look, you stupid bastard. You’ve got no arms left.
Black Knight: Yes I have.
Arthur: Look!
Black Knight: (looks at stumps) Just a flesh wound.
Imagine the Black Knight presenting at your hospital. Kal at Trauma Queen has no problem spotting a liar in Not As Green As the Uniform. For those of you that didn’t already know that “[b]lood smear occurs when an object contacts a body part that is already bleeding,” this post can be redeemed for CME credit. Further, the Black Knight is in for more trouble if he isn’t honest about his injuries. In the Incantations, InsureBlog relates a story of a man named “Monty” who gets caught between coverage without disclosing a procedure he had in the interim. Unfortunate stuff. For more help spotting a liar, Psychic Health has a post close to my heart. Watch out for the m00se.
I’m not entirely sure how to treat a man without any limbs (or what the Medical Coding would be) which means I’m turning to Dr. Google. This week, an article from the BMJ showed that within the first 30 results, Google catches a difficult diagnosis 58% of the time. Am I out of a job? Dr. Charles goes through the paper and runs the experiment himself revealing the limitations. Thanks, Dr. Charles, for reminding me that the study helped clinicians find the diagnosis which means (for the time being) I should keep studying. The story isn’t over, however, as Ves from Clinical Cases and Images writes that clinicians may be able to hand pick the information that Google returns for their own patients. And there was much rejoicing.
Father: Other kings said I was daft to build a castle on a swamp, but I built it all the same, just to show ’em. It sank in the swamp. So, I built a second one. That sank into the swamp. So I built a third one. That burned down, fell over, then sank into the swamp. But the fourth one… stayed up! And that’s what you’re gonna get, lad: the strongest castle in these islands.
I still believe that we can rebuild the cities hit by Hurricane Katrina to be the strongest in the land, but the pace is causing problems. Dr. Herbert writes this week in How Slow Can You Go that of the $7.5 billion in grants allotted to help build private homes, 18 requests have been approved. Jon Schnaars writes that just because they are ignored, Katrina’s Mental Health Woes Will Not Disappear. We are inviting a public and private health catastrophe when temporary trailer homes spend five months waiting for delivery and the acute problems of “depression, anxiety disorders, stress disorders, [and] addiction” are allowed to become chronic.
[And out of the blue an arrow strikes Concorde in the chest.]
Lancelot: Brave, brave Concorde, you shall not have died in vain!
Concorde: Uh, I’m — I’m not quite dead, sir.
Lancelot: Well, you shall not have been mortally wounded in vain!
Concorde: I- I- I think I cou- I could pull through, sir.
Lancelot: Oh, I see.
Time to call a MEDIC! The Angry Medic of Cambridge isn’t seeing as much gore as he’d like from his textbook prison and decides to take his education to the pitch where he receives a ball to the face, dips blood into his antiseptic and consoles the players that a large bandage will not effect “the number of female spectators yelling their names from the sidelines.” You could say he Comes of Age. I can identify with the itch to begin but Karen Little has set me straight. With 20/20 hindsight, she offers a painfully funny glimpse of our collective future in her Years as a Medical Student two-parter. The pictures alone are worth your visit.
It’s the time of year where several people are changing roles and interviewing for their lives. BadDoctor recounts an Interview With Wolves straight from the vault of medschool myths. “I probably would have been better off telling him that Perry Mason was a filthy commie…[h]e looked at me as if he would rather see me in his headlights than in his clinic as a student.” It ends well.
Of course, there are other important interviews to be had. Nurse Ratched-Zoot writes about the successful dating strategies of doctors and suggests that all psychiatrists start off by claiming to be undertakers, since this is initially preferable to your date being “more afraid of [you] getting inside their head than inside their pants.”
With all of the forward-looking, its important to remember why we’re doing any of this. This week, Doctor Anonymous writes a great story about counseling a difficult patient to undergo a stress test that may have saved his life. The Dinosaur counters with Sigh, Just…Sigh , a story about a patient that “…is not a clinical puzzle. This is something between somatization and hypochondriasis.” Her visit length is inverse to need. Hilarity ensues.
Knights of Ni: Ni! Ni!Ni! Ni! Ni!
Arthur: Who are you?
Head Knight: We are the Knights Who Say … “Ni”!
Random background Knights: Ni! Ni!Ni! Ni! Ni!
Arthur: No! Not the Knights Who Say Ni!
Head Knight: The same!
The Knights Who Say Ni are arguably the most bizarre part of this movie (no small task) and I’ve always wondered, “What would a clinician do with them?” Certainly we could chastise them for spraying their germs with each careless “Ni!” We could sit them down and make them watch a very funny video at BreathSpa outlining the correct sneezing/coughing etiquette (I think this video could prevent The Plague if people didn’t spread so many germs laughing at it). Or we might suspect something more serious. The Tundra PA recounts her experience with an epidemic of Whooping Cough that hit Southwest Alaska a short while ago in her post, The Hundred Day Cough. Of course it was handled expertly.
God: GET ON WITH IT!
Thanks to Sid Schwab, I’m reminded that medicine is moving forward. He writes this week in You Tube, I Tube, We Tube about his experience as a medical student placing NG tubes into his classmates. Sympathetic gagging ensues while we learn that many patients undergoing abdominal surgery are now spared this invasion. MyLifeMyPace writes about a different invasion: the miserable mores of Grey’s Anatomy tainting the pool of hopeful physicians. I actually stopped watching the show because of the example she cites in So Why Do You Want To Be a Doctor?
Monk: And Saint Attila raised the hand grenade up on high, saying, ‘O Lord, bless this thy hand grenade that with it thou mayest blow thine enemies to tiny bits, in thy mercy.’ And the Lord did grin, and the people did feast upon the lambs and sloths and carp and anchovies and orangutans and breakfast cereals and fruit bats…
Should the Holy Hand Grenade blow you to bits, you could do worse than to go to Susan Palwick’s version of Heaven. She’s a volunteer ED Chaplain that sees more than a few parallels between the afterlife and triage.
While all of this has been very silly, there are adventures that bring more than a bit of peril. Paul Auerbach writes in Pilgrims at High Altitude about the “silent” deaths of pilgrims attempting religious ascents but succumbing to mountain sickness. Several good links are included. Borneo Breezes has a great post about aid to Aboriginal children and that our good intentions may not always be appropriate. “Ivan Illich said, ‘Don’t come to change us or help us. Come because you are getting something out of it. Take pictures of our wild flowers, study the animals, climb the mountains if you like, but leave us alone. We want to make our own mistakes.’ ” His pictures tell half the story in How Children Play.
…And now for something completely different.
Every once in a while, Dr. Crippen of the NHS will throw his weight behind an excellent site. I am indebted to him for introducing me to Karen Little at Just Up The Dose (showcased today) and to Abby Lee at Girl With a One Track Mind. This week he writes about the NHS’ standardization of care and lack of appropriate resources for victims of sexual abuse. At the end, he recommends the site Survivors Can Thrive. “Dr Crippen strongly recommends [her sites] but, be warned, they are not comfortable reading.” I agree. In the same vein Nancy Brown writes about an alarming ruling that “consensual sex cannot become rape.” I ask you to read these articles and see if you agree.
Finally, Julie over at Medscape has written a piece about her fight with cancer that is so amazing and moving that I find myself rereading it. Her post is a shining example of how a well-written message bores deeper and deeper into the reader. I have saved her for last to spare anyone from trying to follow — it’s that good.
And so we end. The Holy Grail is a solid Grand Rounds read in a single sitting. I hope we found it and I invite all comments from the readers and authors alike. And with that I have been sacked. Join us next week as Dr. Anonymous hosts Grand Rounds 3.09.
Cheers, A Very Famous Historian.
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Heading into the weekend I have received 10 submissions for this week’s Grand Rounds, leading me to believe that the medical writers have all suffered heart attacks. Not to worry; this may advance the plot.
Nicholas Genes has the PreRounds interview posted where I answer the following questions:
- After reading your blog, the non-US med school track is looking better all the time. You are pretty honest about not doing great in college, but you also come across as a thoughtful writer and student, an intelligent observer, and thus, probably a good medical student and future physician. Any regrets about this path so far?
- Do you anticipate future prejudice from doctors who graduated from American schools? Back when applying, we heard some negative comments about the Caribbean; are those rumors true?
- Your blog started out like a collection of letters home, before turning out gems like Anne and Cracked Lips. How did you get your start, and why did your writing change?
The deadline for carefully considered entries is Sunday at 11:59:59pm. Please send submissions to rumorsweretrue@gmail.com.
Thank you, A Very Famous Historian
P.S. Anything submitted on Monday would have to be fantastic. Tuesday is right out.
]]>So I’m going to switch to an image. Images are powerful tools of expression, and what I want to express is that America is far more balanced in our views than people would have you believe. You do not live in a blue state or a red state; you probably live in a purple one. I am not on the other side of Texas or New York, nor am I against rural or urban America, but I am instead a member of all of it.
What follows is an excellent entry from Not Watching Television that I found during the Presidential election of 2004.
***
…[W]e’re shown this map, where America’s big, red, pulsing “heartland” appears to be pushing the poor, anemic blue state off to the extremities.
And, as if that wasn’t scary enough, we’re occasionally shown a map that distributes the blue and red to show how the vote broke down by county. According to the county map we Blues look like we’re wandering in a wilderness of red-dom, lost souls scattered on the right-wing frontier.
Dave Pollard, who’s How to Change the World blog I usually find so inspiring, actually sent a similar map out by email that had me scanning the web frantically for escape routes — or at least ex-patriot sites where I could offer up my daughters as mail-order brides.
Fortunately, before I started laying plans for how to smuggle my 84-year-old, walker-bound mom across some border, I stopped by Crooked Timber, where Henry posted a map and a link to some analysis that thankfully helped me get a grip — and a bit of that social equality perspective the Peterson Projection folks lectured CJ Craig about.
For one thing, according to Michael Gaster, Cosma Shalizi and Mark Newman of the University of Michigan, when you create a cartogram of the state electoral results, scaling the states according to population rather than geographic size, the map ends up looking like this instead of like the one above:
When viewed this way, through the lens of population distribution, America’s electoral portrait changes quite a bit.
But that’s not all. When the folks at U of M constructed a county-by-county picture of the vote, based on the percentage of votes cast for each candidate instead of just the winner-take-all results, they ended up with a cartogram like this:
Because this cartogram registers voting percentages by county, it reveals something important that those interests I mentioned above might not want to talk about. There are very few solidly red areas on this map, which means there are few solidly red areas in the country.
Those geographic electoral maps can come in handy for folks interested in claiming a mandate; or discouraging the opposition; or promoting a bandwagon effect. But just like the hemispheric distortions in Mercator Projection maps, what they depict is a far cry from reality.
***
That picture gives me hope and I look at it often.
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I’ll be hosting Grand Rounds 03.08 on Tuesday, November 14th. Your entries will be carefully considered up until midnight on Sunday the 12th, after which they will be roughly considered. The theme shall include coconuts, a murderous rabbit, and the oppression inherent in the system. Come brave a bit of peril as we search for the Holy Grail.
Please send all submissions to rumorsweretrue@gmail.com
Thank you, A Very Famous Historian.
P.S. Grand Rounds is a weekly collection of the best writing within the medical blogosphere. It is compiled entirely by volunteer submission, so anyone can participate. The archives can be found here. If you would like to host in the future, you must be chosen by the Lady of the Lake.
P.P.S. Anything submitted on Monday would have to be fantastic. Tuesday is right out.
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I have a lot to learn. By Friday, anyway. I have a Pharmacology exam followed by a Pathophysiology exam this coming Monday. Once again, I find myself behind. It’s the funny kind of behind where you look at the stack of notes on your desk (2″ of one, 3″ of the other) and sort of chuckle. “Ha. This is going to be funny.” Cue despair.
Looking at it now, I’m tempted to start the passive bragging of impossible odds. “You have no idea how hard it is,” I’d say. “Medical school is like trying to take a drink from a fire hose,” I’d brag.
And that’s total bullshit.
At the beginning of each course, we’re given a syllabus telling us how we’re going to be graded, the question break-down for each test, and the schedule of lectures each day for the next 4-5 months. Nothing is going to sneak up on you unless you can’t read the print on the page (in which case you’re blind and things sneak up on you all the time).
But it’s sunny outside or snowing outside or Tuesday. Whatever. You’re in medical school to become a doctor, not to be in a classroom (scheduling conflicts here) and you find yourself out on the weekends, maybe catching a movie on the weekday, and so on. You blow off the first week of any course because the material is supposed to be introductory and you certainly blow off the first week after any exam to recuperate. Maybe you take off two weeks if it was especially difficult and draining.
Eventually though, the next exam is closer than the last exam and you have to return to the desk and pretend to be a serious student. The first week back studying, you won’t be as efficient and as familiar with the material as you were leading up to the last test, so there’s some built-in catching up to do. You can’t understand the material taught TODAY because you blew off the introduction, so until you catch up, you keep falling behind. By the time you’re back in your stride the exam is so close you can feel it’s breath on your neck and you still have material to cover on a first pass. Let’s not forget: you haven’t reviewed or committed anything to memory at this point. It’s now that you understand the truth:
Medical school is like trying to eat five pancakes every morning for breakfast.
You know you can do it. A Premed advisory committee endorsed you saying, “He has the stomach for it. He’s committed.” And you prove them all right. Every day you show up with your first-year optimism and your annoying hunger for learning and you clean that plate (just kidding, it’s adorable). But you begin to notice that those pancakes are slowing you down a little each day and the sugar highs and lows are screwing with your sleep. Smart person that you are, you decide to pass on the flapjacks one day. You think to yourself, “Self, I’m going to eat ten pancakes tomorrow so that I don’t have to eat any today.”
But it never stops. Turns out that “self” isn’t the most responsible lender, and before you know it there are 40 pancakes in front of you and your plate needs to be clean by tomorrow. So yeah, at this point it looks impossible. But really, it’s your fault.
In the future, as I like to imagine it, I’ll be in charge of all medical school admissions. The process will be six weeks long and will consist of nothing more than showing up each morning to eat five pancakes, at which point you can then go about whatever you were going to do that day. At the end of the five weeks a few jaded, newly diabetic hopefuls will come to my office and, mixed with both pride and resignation say, “I did it. I finished those goddamn pancakes.”
“Wow,” I’ll say. “That’s very impressive. You must be very proud, and your parents must be very proud. Just one more thing.” They’ll reflexively clutch their stomachs, shifting their girth from one hip onto the next and groan, “What’s that?”
“Regurgitate it.”
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There is a new book out by Richard Dawkins called “The God Delusion.” His mission is to bring the discussion of atheism out in the open and to make a case for it and against the belief in God. Salon.com has a great write-up of Dawkins’ work and his new book. Readers of the medical blogosphere may notice that atheism has been popping up lately. Dr. Herbert wrote a piece about an atheist patient of his. The Neonatal Doc wonders what is said at an atheist funeral. As an atheist, I’m sensitive to pieces like these because I wonder exactly what I’m going to do when caring, not for the atheist, but for the religious. What am I going to say when a family asks me “Do you pray, doctor?” or “Will you say a prayer for my loved one?” Dawkins’ book is already incredibly popular and receiving a great deal of press. He’s keeping a blog as he tours the world promoting it. I don’t normally care about things like this, but I really hope that Dawkins is successful in making the discussion public. I often feel like a pariah in my own community for my atheism, and have even kept it a secret from my more extended family. I’m writing this now because of an article I read in the San Fransisco Chronicle. It’s by Dinesh D’Souza who authored “The Enemy at Home: The Cultural Left and Its Responsibility for 9/11.” On first glance, I think it’s a disgusting and irresponsible title. But I’ve been wrong before about the covers of books, which is why I read his take on “The God Delusion.” I was so disappointed in his review, not for its conclusion, but for its absolute laziness. I can’t help but draw the conclusion that this is his writing style, and that there is likely little useful in his book. If you like, you can read his article and then see my response to him below.
I won’t paint those that believe in a God with the same brush that I would paint Dinesh D’Souza, but I will say that this isn’t the first time I’ve run into this type of reasoning. I was incredibly frustrated as a child whenever my parents or teachers become angry and impatient with me as I continued to question them about God or about the contents of the Bible. I will never forget when I was small, asking my mother, “who created God?”
“Nobody. God always was.”
“How is that possible?”
“God is like a wreath or a circle, without beginning or end.”
“But didn’t something make the wreath and the circle?”
“That is part of the mystery of God.”
I think that if people take their beliefs seriously, then they should explore them with some measure of academic rigor. If you don’t understand why you believe something, then what use is it to you? Why would anyone be willing to just accept ‘mysteries’ if there is no need?
I remember an old priest on the Oncology floor who had decided to discontinue his treatment. He knew he was going to die and felt that his further use of valuable resources was against his ethic. He was a teacher of theology. He saw right into me and began the conversation with, “How do you feel about working around so much death?” What happened next was fantastic. We argued about theism and atheism, organized versus personal religion, death and dying, and the foundation of morality. It was not acrimonious or condescending on either side, but was instead a meeting of exciting ideas and strong arguments. It was a quality of argument about religion that I have not enjoyed since.
If Dawkins’ book does anything, I hope it makes those that believe in religion form more powerful arguments for their belief and to CARE that those arguments are strong. I also hope that if people discover that their arguments are weak, that they CARE that those arguments are weak. If something is right, then know why. If something is wrong, then know why. But for God’s sake, care. For those that want to make their arguments for or against God stronger, test your mettle against this book.
***
I’d like this email to somehow reach Dinesh D’Souza. I am an atheist but was raised a Roman Catholic with all of the private schooling by nuns and monks that you would imagine. I’m assuming, here, that Dinesh’s article is something like a question, or a wondering, and I’d like to address a few parts of it.
That a “group of leading atheists is puzzled by the continued existence and vitality of religion” is not the same as saying that atheists are puzzled, and is no more useful than attacking Christianity after noting that a “group of Christians believe that handling snakes is the pathway to Heaven.” No single group is representative of the whole, nor is their likely a unified “whole” around anything except the most basic of tennents: the absence of god on one side and His Majesty on the other.
“Wilson says there must be some evolutionary explanation for the universality and pervasiveness of religious belief. Actually, there is.”
Actually, there are more. I understand that for the coherence of an article, you had to pick one vein and flow with it, but I think you’ve ignored some much less flattering options.
Imagine that the human brain was selected through evolution to handle challenges of greater and greater complexity. What do you do with a brain so powerful when you’re not thinking to save your life? You think. You think and think because you can’t turn it off and you stumble into imagination. And is it so hard to imagine someone stumbling on the idea of cause and effect and to very quickly run up against the problem of first cause? That idea would torture you if you couldn’t file it away. The solution is a belief in God. The solution for all things in similar situations is God. Why does it rain? Why does it not rain? What moves the Heavens? And so on. It’s not hard to imagine the idea of God as being the product of a mind capable of imagination and reason butting up against a lack of information about the workings of the world. And, anecdotally, have we not seen the sphere of those things explained by God shrinking and shrinking as the sphere of those things with perfect explanations through science expands and expands?
“Now imagine two groups of people — let’s call them the Secular Tribe and the Religious Tribe — who subscribe to one of these two views….The religious tribe is composed of individuals who view their every thought and action as consequential. The secular tribe is made up of matter that cannot explain why it is able to think at all.“
Both tribes are made of matter and it is the Religous Tribe that cannot explain why it is able to think at all. To offer an answer is not the same as explaining. “Why is the sky blue?” can be explained either with secular physics or answered with “because God decided so.” Explanations are backed by evidence and reason while anyone can have an answer. The Religous Tribe’s belief in being a special creation is empty of such reason and nothing about which to brag.
“Should evolutionists like Dennett, Dawkins, Harris and Wilson be surprised, then, to see that religious tribes are flourishing around the world? ”
I’ve already covered this, but to recap: it is no failing of the logic of atheism that the conditions still exist in the world for people to rely on religion as a placeholder for the deeper understanding that comes with education.
“By contrast, atheist conventions only draw a handful of embittered souls, and the atheist lifestyle seems to produce listless tribes that cannot even reproduce themselves.”
Shame on you for using such a weak argument. First, an Atheist convention is as likely to be representative of the Atheist community as a Christian Convention is to be of the Christian community. I’d love to see the numbers behind your claim though we both know you’re pushing anecdote as fact. Second, what do you mean by the “atheist lifestyle?” What wide brush are you using here to gloss over your lack of any fact?
You continue in this article with straw-man after straw-man, and they don’t deserve a sound rebuttle since not much effort went in to erecting them. Similarly, every time you rely on “it seems” to finish your sentence, know that you are being lazy about your writing and your craft. If you take this issue seriously, then you owe it to the people that you inform to be as harsh a critic of your own views as you are of others.
But finally, I must address the most insulting part of this piece.
“It seems perplexing why nature would breed a group of people who see no purpose to life or the universe, indeed whose only moral drive seems to be sneering at their fellow human beings who do have a sense of purpose. ”
Do you really believe that atheists have no moral drive? Really? You wouldn’t bat an eyelash if atheists just started murdering, raping, and pillaging as Christians are so eager to predict the godless should? No, I suspect that you know that atheists have a moral drive, that you are too lazy to think much about it, and that it is COMICALLY you that is fulfilling your purpose by sneering at your fellow man.
Do monkeys have morals? They have rules within their groups. They punish those members that break those rules. They mourn their dead. Do they have God, or is there some other way to arrive at moral drive? The great irony hear is that those people that think that all morality comes from religion and is predicated on the fear of punishment (by God, by Hell) are the very people that have never deeply thought about why they act the way that they do. They receive instructions, are notified of consequence, and proceed ignorant.
It’s nothing of which to be proud.
]]>
In the month of November, I have: four exams, a research paper to finish, a Student’s Guide to Grenada to edit, tshirts to sell, and 50,000 words to write. Should be fun.
Here’s to committing to a bad idea, but in the write spirit. topher.
]]>]]>Yunus, a silver-haired man of sixty-six with a round, luminous countenance, is a highly gifted interlocutor between the extremely poor in the developing world and the West, and for years he had been seen as a candidate for the Nobel Peace Prize. (This December, he will go to Oslo to receive it.) During the famine of 1974 in Bangladesh, when the dying lined the doorsteps of the better-off in Dhaka, Yunus, an economics professor at Chittagong University, found the theories he was teaching maddeningly irrelevant; so he went into a neighboring village and began talking to the poor. He experimented with ways of helping them—initially, he lent twenty-seven dollars to a group of forty-two villagers—and before long he became convinced that he had a remedy for their condition: providing very small individual loans to the impoverished to start activities ranging from making bamboo stools to buying a dairy cow. In 1976, after local banks refused his entreaties to make the loans, he resolved to do it himself, and he founded the Grameen Bank.
I remember skinning my knee as a small child and asking my Dad how a scab forms. Sitting there, watching him put the band-aid on, I was waiting for a story about the clotting cascade and other interstitial magic. He answered, “The blood dries and you have a scab.” I was incredibly disappointed.
As a kid, I never knew that I wanted to be a doctor. I was pretty sure that I didn’t want to be one, but I knew that I loved science. My family knew it too and encouraged me. I still remember a Thanksgiving dinner when I was waist-high to the adults, walking around, desperately asking everyone if they wanted to know how clouds created lightening or why the sky was blue. I had memorized the explanations from the fantastic book “Ask me Why?” and they were worth more to me than gold. I don’t know if he remembers it, but after watching several of my aunts turn me down with “not now”, my uncle Laurence (MD) indulged me. I always liked him after that.
I don’t remember there being many science role models. There was Donatello (the smart Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle cartoon character) and there was Beakman and Bill Nye the Science Guy (the adult cartoon characters). Sure, you could watch them and marvel at the greatness of science, but I never wanted to grow up to be anything like them. And that’s where my father comes in again.
My parents couldn’t agree on which movies were appropriate for me to watch. My father was by far the more lenient and I would sneak into the den to watch rentals with him. My first memory of a such a “sneak peek” was THE FLY. This was my introduction to the greatest film actor alive:
JEFF GOLDBLUM.
Watching his character was a revelation. Here was an athletic, attractive man doing exciting things with science. He was excited for his experiments and you could see the manic buzz taking him over whenever he tried to explain how the teleportation worked, or about his series of failures that had led to his successes, and it was just so addicting to see someone share in the excitement that has gripped anyone that loves science and marvels at discovery. He was the kindred spirit, the recognition of yourself in someone that you’ve never met that lets you know, truly, that you are not alone.
Jeff Goldblum let me know that it was okay, cool even, to be a nerd.
Thank God that he was typecast. After THE FLY in ’86 came JURASSIC PARK in ’93. Everyone in America saw that film. Everyone saw Dr. Ian Malcolm’s amazement at the advances in recombinant genetics. He anticipated the problems with the park in his manic “yes, yes” style. Even his fear was the fear of awe. Everyone else remembers that movie for the leap forward in CGI. I remember it for Goldblum’s cold, perfect, logic.
Two years later he was the science teacher in POWDER. One of only two people that understood a strange, percocious boy for what he was. For children picked on in school for being different, it was hard not to identify with Powder and to trust Jeff Goldblum. Then in 1997 this nerd, this grown-up science geek, saved the world from total annihilation with the help of Will Smith in INDEPENDENCE DAY. All the weapons on earth were useless without his mind. At this point in his career, Jeff had nailed the neurotic addled scientist and was playing it like a harp.
Maybe you think it’s funny that Jeff Goldblum has been a hero of mine or maybe you think it’s sad. Both, I guess. The power of role models is hard to overstate and I wish there were more around. I’ve grown past Jeff to idolize thinkers like Feynman, writers like Guwande, and men like my father but for those middle years between knowing what I loved and deciding to pursue it, I was lucky to have even one. Jeff was enthusiastic, smart, capable, and admired through all the years that I needed him to be and for that, I am grateful.
Thanks, Jeff, for being there.
Cheers, topher.
***
Jurassic Park
John Hammond: All major theme parks have had delays. When they opened Disneyland in 1956, nothing worked, nothing.
Ian Malcolm: But, John, if the Pirates of the Caribbean breaks down, the pirates don’t eat the tourists.
Ian Malcolm: Yeah, but your scientists were so preoccupied with whether or not they could, they didn’t stop to think if they should.
The Lost World.
Ian Malcom: Taking dinosaurs off this island is the worst idea in the long, sad history of bad ideas, and I’m going to be there when you learn that.
**************
4th term was the exception in that you could pitch your tent with one book and live in it. That’s pretty much over now. You have three classes to worry about this term. Pathophys, Pharm, and Hospital (clinical skills).
Pathophysiology is not Pathology or Physiology. In Path, everything that was going to go wrong pretty much did and you were left to memorize buzz words. In Physiology, you were an idiot trying to understand the magic of breathing. PathoPhys is much more clinical and could have been named “What do you do with a patient’s chart?” In other words, if you learned Path and Phys, we can assume you know a lot already and can skip the easy stuff. You’ll be given stacks of notes for Renal, Cardio, etc. There is no need to buy a surgery textbook for the surgery lectures, or the Atlas of Diagnostic Imaging for the radiology lectures, and so on. I recommend…
First Aid for the USMLE. The new version is organ-based as opposed to systems-based. Bring whichever you have for review.
Merck Manual. Wow. Description, signs and symptoms, pathology, diagnosis, treatment, prognosis. And all of it is well-written. I’m thinking about reviewing for the USMLE with First Aid, Merck, and a toothbrush.
Pocket Robbins as a reference.
Pharmacology (5cr) is to Pathophys (14cr) as Micro (5cr) was to Path (13cr): less organized, poorer notes, and disproportionately difficult for the credits. It’s a review of Neuro, Physio, Micro, Parasitology, Path and Biochem. Remember to bring First Aid. There are three textbooks competing here.
Golan’s The Pathophysiological Basis of Drug Therapy. Well-written book that, in each drug section, gives a review of the Phys, Path, and Biochem before going into the drug actions. There are patients-vignettes at the beginning of each chapter (less cartoonish than Al Martini), little blue boxes that discuss the most current research, and usually a paragraph or two about the history of a drug’s discovery. I’m won over by this book. There are no review questions at the end of each chapter which is a minus if you like that.
Lipincott’s Pharmacology. If you liked their Biochem book then you’ll probably like this book as well. Everything is simplified (so it is easy to study from and memorize), there are a few review questions at the end of each chapter, and the pictures are funny. Some sections in this book (pharmacokinetics antimicrobials) are not as strong as others and had me looking in Golan for straight answers. While this book is an easy read and helped me get into some difficult sections, I would not recommend it as a stand-alone.
Katzung’s Pharmacology. As the required text, there is little that is talked about in class that this book does not cover. The graphs from this book are used in class, in the notes, and in the First Aid book. It seems to be the standard bearer. It has all the detail you could ever want, and this makes it a difficult read. There are several review questions at the back of each chapter.
Hospital. Twice a week you will be in the hospital. You need a stethoscope, two pairs of scrubs, one person in your group to bring a PD kit, a white lab coat, some doctor clothing for underneath the white lab coat, and maybe the Pocket Bates. You will be pimped from time to time where the physician will ask you to report the patient’s history, offer differentials, and explain the physics behind an under-water sealed drain for a chest tube (true story). The goal of this course is for you to leave the island capable of taking a patient history by yourself, carrying out a general and systems-based physical exam, reporting your findings while offering differential diagnoses, and not embarrassing the school. Print out the exam checklists from the MacDaddy for review.
]]>Working with kids as patients, I try to make them comfortable with jokes and tricks. I have different tricks that I can do like float my thumb, pull my eyebrows and lips around with invisible string, etc. One of my favorite tricks, though, is the eleven-fingers trick. Here’s how you do it.
“How many fingers do you have?”
“Ten!”
“Are you sure?”
“?” They then count their fingers to make sure. “Yes! Ten!”
“I bet you have eleven.”
“Nuh uh.”
“Watch, I’ll show you.”
You then count their fingers in a special way. Instead of one-two-three, you add an “eight” after each number. Read this sequence ALOUD and see if you catch it.
“One eight two eight three eight four eight five eight six eight seven eight nine eight ten eight eleven eight. See? You have eleven fingers!”
Sometimes they’ll count their fingers again to make sure, sometimes they’ll just start laughing at the trick. I feel pretty bad about what happened today. A little boy from first grade had a cut above his eyebrow that opened up a fair bit. It wasn’t bothering him much anymore and he was easy to examine. We were killing time, waiting for the physician to come in and suture his brow when I started the eleven-fingers trick. He was enthusiastic about his ten fingers and appropriately baffled by his eleventh. However, when I saw that he was more bothered than entertained, I tried to explain it to him.
“Tim, I tricked you because I never said ‘eight eight.’ I skipped it. Here, I’ll show you.” I then went through the sequence again, inserting the “eight eight.”
“Ok, Tim. How many fingers do you really have?” He looked at me, then at the other students in the room, and finally at his teacher who brought him in from school. His face screwed up and with some pain he answered, “Eleven?”
He had to go back before I could fix the damage. I hope he doesn’t swear off math forever.
]]>I usually sleep right through these lectures. It’s no direct reflection on the lecturer but on my learning style. My ears are morons; I can’t learn with them. I’ve been in lecture where I thought the guy was fantastic, interesting, comfortable with the crowd. And I sleep ten minutes in. It’s Aural Disinterest Disorder, not Attention Deficit.
I have found the cure for this disease: a pregnant woman being escorted to the front of the room with a terrified look on her face. Better than coffee.
As he lectures on measuring fundal height, the use of a speculum, the bi-manual exam, my eyes are darting saucers between him and the woman. Are you telling me that I get to do a pelvic exam today?! Is that what you’re telling me? He finishes the lecture. The woman is lying on the table. He turns to us (100+ students), lifts his arms like a maestro, and gestures “come on down.” In my head: The Price is Right theme music.
Imagine it, one hundred students crowded around and quiet, angling for the best view. Hand to God, some of them are standing on the tables. Several students are looking back and forth to each other, each asking the same question. I turn to my roommate.
“Is this really happening?”
“I have no idea.”
It hasn’t been a productive day or week, so I might as well be the writing-kind of nonproductive. Some of my favorite lessons from the term:
If you ever take an oral estrogen pill, there’s a chance it contains equilin, which is obtained from a pregnant mare’s urine. Nocebo means ‘I will do harm’ and someone needs to name their next dog “nocebo”. Amaurosis Fugax is my new favorite term though I’ve forgotten what it means. Crazy people have hypomarble-emia (joke courtesy of roommate Kelly). The pharmacology course has taught me that a shot of expresso before a pot of coffee in an afternoon is properly termed a loading and maintenance dose of caffeine. It’s nice to have fancy words.
I wrote a while ago that having a girlfriend stops me from realizing my potential as a moron. True. This term, the only people on the island are in my term, which means some slim pickings and several months of being single. So what have I done with all of this free time?
The roof of our home is unfinished. Metal reinforcing bars (ReBar) stick up from the concrete, clumped like mole hairs. There are a few empty champagne bottles from the celebration of a job well-half-done (this is the Caribbean) and there are cinder blocks. Bored and single, I started doing pushups on the roof. Then I started lifting cinder blocks over my head. Then I bent pieces of rebar into circles and fed them through to create cinderbells. Then came seated rows, and a bench press, and a squat machine, all of this made from rebar, bamboo, and cinder blocks. It’s my prison gym. The roommates have split into two rival factions. I’m the leader of the Sharks. There’s a lot of snapping and choreography.
I’m supposed to metamorphose into a studentdoctor sometime soon, so I’m killing more time in the hospital with extra shifts. My favorite patient so far was a cop presenting with a madeup headache to get out of the station for a few days. I heard from the doctor that they’re having a rat problem over there and this was the third cop of the week to present with fakeache. Rx: courage.
While spotting a fake presentation is fun, the best student diagnosis goes to my roommate Kelly. A patient was making googly-eyes at him while he was trying to get a history. Once we were done examining her, we went into the side room to wait for the doctor to come back and grill us. While we waited, I turned to Kelly and asked what he thought was wrong with her. His answer:
Diagnosis: Kelly fever.
Prognosis: terminal.
Cheers from St Vincent’s, topher.
]]>Cheers, topher.
]]>
I’m not proud of what I’ve done and don’t feel much for celebrating. Worse, I think I saw this coming.
When they start us out in medicine, there’s a quote that gets thrown around to make each of us a little less nervous about our grades and a little more smug about getting by. Vitum Medicinus drew my attention to it once again:
Q: What do you call someone who graduated at the bottom of their med school class?
A: Doctor.
It’s funny, and it’s not.
Some schools are different, but it seems anecdotely that US medical schools grade on a Pass/Fail basis. What constitutes a passing grade is anyone’s guess, but it’s likely either 60% or 70%. This makes little sense to me. Medical students are possibly the most self-selecting group of overachievers and competitors that you’ll find. If you tell them that a failing grade is anything below 80%, then dammit, they’ll get that 80%. If you set the bar, they’ll jump it.
Pass/Fail screws with this. Lowering the bar to 60% and it might as well not be there for this group of people. If you have the academic discipline to get into medicine, a 60% is “mailing it in.” And what motivation is there to excel if it won’t matter? The desire to know so that you don’t kill patients isn’t in play since a) what you learn this early you forget and b) a-ketoglutarate dehydrogenase being an irreversible step of the Kreb’s cycle isn’t going to save anyone’s life (ok, so maybe you don’t forget all of it).
At SGU, we have ABC and F. We kill ourselves for those As, and when we’re reeling from a 12-hour day in the library, our asses sore from pressure atrophy, we look at each other and marvel at how early we would have gone home if we only had to ‘pass.’ The truth is that we don’t have to work any harder: a passing grade for us is the same, whether you call it a ‘C’ or a ‘P.’ But we do work harder because there’s recognition it it.
VM does a good job of making his point that regardless of the grading system, he’s learning the material. He realizes full well that the Boards are coming to level us all and that “cruising” through classes isn’t really an option. Still, maybe for most and at least for me, I perform to expectations and want them set as high as possible.
And this is why I feel like shit. I’ve taken away the meaning of my A. It used to mean that I had pushed until my eyes ached with my head hanging slack from my shoulders. It used to be the measure of my best effort and ability. Instead, I jumped the lower bar, am rewarded just the same, and feel so much worse.
]]>In Duchene Muscular Dystrophy, a child is born that will die around the ages of 18-24. Symptoms don’t appear until around the age of 3 when the kid is walking. The parents will tell the doctor that their son is walking around on his tip toes, his calves are enormous, and that he seems unstable. Whenever he falls over, he has a very strange way of getting back up (Gower’s maneuver). Eventually, this child will lose the ability to walk and the disease takes over his hips, shoulders, and spine leading to scoliosis.
Now all of that is pretty straight-forward-horrible. But then they throw in this gem: Contractures develop. Two words to describe a focal muscle tightening that will twist someone’s son into a shape that noone can unstretch. Contractures.
Of course I have my own list of horrible diseases that affected patients I cared for in my hospital days. Advanced Cystic Fibrosis makes me never want to work in an ICU and it’s generally accepted that Scleroderma is the worst disease imaginable. But today, today I learned about one that deserves special mention. Now I’ve never met anyone with this, but let’s try to imagine…
Imagine a guy. He meets a nice girl at a bar. Things go well and they go home together. A week later the girl calls him to say that she just found out she has chlamydia. No problem. Chlamydia is largely asymptomatic in men and there’s treatment for it. He goes to his physician and gets the infection cleared. Two weeks later, things get worse.
He’s pissing fire, his eyes are red and watering and his joints are killing him. His Achilles tendon is incredibly inflamed. Then things get much worse. He begins to get a pustulating rash on the soles of his feet and his palms, ulcers on the head of his penis and inflammation inside his eyeball.
No, this isn’t some horrible new venereal disease. This is a reaction that some people get after certain infections of their GI tract or the genito-urinary tract. To see Reiter’s Syndrome in my notes is to lose some of the shock:
Classic triad of arthritis, conjunctivits and urethritis post GI and GU infection. HLA-B27. Complications include enthesitis, keratoderma blennorhagicum, circinate balantis and anterior uveitis. Typically self-limiting course (3-12 months). 15% procede along Chronic, Destructive course. 10% progress to Ankylosing Spondylitis. HIV association.
All it’s really missing is “Pt may be descending into madness, believing God is slowly destroying his life. Promises to never have sex again. Identifies with the work of Hieronymous Bosch”
Back to the books.
]]>I have a lot that I have to do. I have an exam coming on Monday that’s a behemoth, I haven’t gone over Immunology or Rheumatology, Endocrinology or Neurology. That’s over half the material. I have all day tomorrow, but I’m not going to be productive. I just don’t care to be, and I’m not worried about doing poorly. I’m inappropriately convinced that I’ll be fine. I even expect to get an A.
I don’t know what’s going on with me. The material is fascinating and, once this test is over, I plan on taking notes on all of it just so I have it for some later date. It’s not the work that I’m rebelling against; it’s the stress. I refuse to be stressed by these tests. I refuse to push myself. I haven’t done this before, and it feels good to experiment.
I’ve had these classes for 1.5 years, the same shit, over and over and over. Each time they put a little more on the plate, like walking down a buffet. And you carry the thing for so long that you have something resembling a meal, something to show for the effort. But we forget. The peas roll of the plate, some gravy spills and we have to go back and get it. And I swear to God that most of medical school after the first year is just relearning everything you’ve already learned, but with one extra helping of potatoes or some such.
Well I’m stuffed. And I don’t care if there’s more on my plate; I’m not going to finish it. I refuse to overeat.
Our school has these in-house tests called the Basic Science Competency Exams. It’s supposed to internally rank each of us and scare us into remembering everything for the Boards. I hear it works. The screwy thing I learned about the BSCE I took after first year is that the highest score, THE SMARTEST PERSON IN THE SCHOOL, scored an 82%. That’s a B. So you’re telling me that instead of cramming for As and having it fall off the plate a month later, had I just slowly, steadily, learned what barely passes for a B and retained it, I’d be the smartest kid in the class?
Yup, that’s what we’re telling you. Peaches.
I’ve heard a similar rumor about the Boards, that an 80% is something close to a 220+. I hope THAT rumor is true. I suspect I’m just lying to myself, that all of this is some pretty classic psych problem and that actually getting a B on this important test will lead to a lot of promises of ‘never again’ and ‘what was I thinking’. But I hope not, because it’s better on the roof than in a book.
]]>At SGU, after any exam, the scantrons are collected and those students wishing to may leave. Students may choose to remain to be passed the answer key. They then have a half hour to look over their own answers. This system is so important to me as a student because it:
1) allows me to catch things I’ve missed that may be important
2) catch mis-keyed items
3) write challenges to questions that are poorly worded or have more than one correct answer.
All of this is important when you consider that everyone (profs included) make mistakes and that many of our professors are foreign-born, so the use of English sometimes does not sync correctly.
Why you would screw up a system that works is beyond me. I discover today that I will not have the option of checking my answers (so I don’t learn what I got wrong and go on forever thinking incorrectly) and will not be able to submit challenges to the questions. Instead, the department picks three people randomly from the class to meet an hour after the end of the exam to go over the questions and raise challenges then.
There’s a huge problem here. What if the three people are morons? How can someone with a poor grasp of the material correctly challenge questions that require more delicate differences? How can you possibly assume that they would be able to pick up on every possible error the way a FLEET of students looking out for their own interests might? Why, oh Why, would you use such an asinine system for evaluating a test?
So I’m frustrated with the Pharm department for screwing with a good thing and with no benefit. end of rant.
]]>
A week ago, I had a dream that I lost both of my arms in a car accident. Stoic that I am, I decided that it didn’t make sense to cry over things that I couldn’t fix and decided to learn to live without half of my limbs. It was hard, but I had a singular goal that kept me focused on the positive and off the negative: to become capable again.
Later in the dream, I learn about the new work that’s being done with bionic arms. I call up the group that is pioneering this work and am able to convince them to take my case. “I was going to be a surgeon!” I plead. After months of work with this group, they present me with my new limbs. As they attach them, I’m trembling. I feel scared of them even though this is what I want more than anything else in life.
“Now move your arms,” they say. I watch, as they do, my right arm rise to scratch my forehead and satisfy an itch that’s been bugging me for months. I collapse on the ground, my head held in my bionic arms, and begin sobbing. I’m crying to make up for my lost grieving. I’m crying in thanks to these people that have given me back my life. I’m crying over my joy.
That’s when I woke up from the dream: crying. Pretty crazy thing to wake up to a pillow wet from your dreaming tears. You know what’s worse? This morning.
I woke up at 2:30am without my right arm. I could feel pain, but I couldn’t feel it. I look for my arm and it’s there, but it’s hard to move around to get a better look. I reach over with my left and try to pick it up. It’s heavy and I can’t feel my left arm on my right. I’ve fallen asleep on limbs before and it has never been this bad or taken this long to come back to me. After a full scary minute, it starts a reassuring burn. The blood is moving back into the arm, the nerves are screaming at being held under water for so long. They’re still too weak to do anything but make pain, so my arm is paralyzed still. Slowly, I find I can wiggle my fingers, bring my arm towards and away, make a fist and release it. After a few more minutes, my arm is mine again.
I have a pretty healthy fear that my arms will become paralyzed. They’ve drilled it into me at this medical school. “Q: A med student studying late on the couch falls asleep with his arm over the back. He wakes up and finds that he cannot move his left arm. It is permanently paralyzed. What condition predisposes individuals to severe thoracic outlet syndrome? A: Post-fixed brachial plexus.” Now I know about a rare and terrifying variation. Thanks.
So where does that leave me? I’m lying in bed at 3am scared to go back to sleep. I’d indulge my fears more, but I have a Pharm Exam later this morning and I have to get some rest.
I wake up at 4:30am without my right arm. I’ve been sleeping on my back, arm left safely at my side, and now it’s gone again. I’m in full panic mode as I slap and punch at the arm as if it’s a kid “playing dead.” It doesn’t work. Nothing. No pain. I pick up the arm and drop it a few times: deadwood. I get out of bed and start twisting my torso, using centripetal forces to repurfuse the fucking thing. I look RIDICULOUS. It’s a minute later before the blessed tingling starts. Now I’m carrying my arm around like a child, making sure to cradle the hand.
I can’t possibly go back to sleep. I know that one of these days my sleep will be too deep, I’ll have my arm in a strange position, and the muscles in my neck will somehow vice-grip the nerves and artery keeping the thing alive. I will wake up and it will never work again.
What am I going to do then?
Consider this day-one of my new insomnia.
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I do not care much for scare tactics. It is a right of passage in high school that a local police officer comes before the entire student body to give a lecture on the dangers of drunk driving. I remember hearing about it beforehand that this guy used scare tactics and would show us a bunch of car crashes that claimed the lives of teens ‘just like you’. Most of my friends thought, “Cool! I like car wrecks. Let’s see who totaled his car the worst.” Slide after slide of cars bent around trees, charred from fires and road scenes cleared of everything except a little blood on the asphalt clicked by. We would snicker to each other, “Wow, that guy must have been going fast.” Sure, we were being callous on purpose, but the consequences just couldn’t register anyway. Then he brought out the beer goggles.These were thick plastic lenses that horribly distorted your vision. He lectured us about the level of alcohol in your system after a single beer, and how you were drunk after just two. Don’t believe me? I’ll show you what it’s like for someone your age after two beers He asked someone to come onto the stage to wear the goggles, and he would let us all laugh at our friend’s inability to walk against his best efforts to just ‘maintain’. That’s when the officer would yell sternly, “That’s what it’s like when you’re drunk! Not funny, is it!” What a bag of mixed messages.
Presentation style aside, we didn’t take him seriously because we knew the magician’s trick. We had all been drunk and, from that, we all knew that those goggles were far from our experience. Inebriation after two beers was far from our experience. His mistake was trying to shock and scare us into doing the right thing when giving us the information about alcohol’s effects and trusting us to make the right decision might have worked. After all, regardless of what is said in a lecture hall, the decision was going to be ours.
The reason I am relating this: it was not until I was in medical school that I was given all of the information about alcohol that would have been so useful then. Though I long ago recognized the unacceptable risk of driving drunk, it’s only now that my decision feels informed. I do not see why this moment has to come $100,000 later, eight years out of high school. Worse, I recognize that very few people are ever in this position to learn it.
I’m going to try over the next few weeks to lay out everything that I have learned in the past two years that has helped me reconcile my experience with alcohol with the science of alcohol. I want the person interested to understand the greater story of how our body and brain interact with alcohol, why understanding it is exciting in and of itself, and how knowing all of this might help you put your own experiences into a context more helpful than a car crash.
It is my hope that you can make the decision yourself, informed.
***

The brain is divided both in shape and in function. In shape, we are used to thinking of a left brain and a right brain, but the biggest differences are between higher and lower function. The classic picture of the brain is of the mess of infoldings that is split down the middle. This is your cerebral cortex with its left and right hemispheres. The highest of your thoughts live here. Pronouncing a word, telling a joke with the right emphasis, drawing a picture; all of it is happening somewhere inside those folds. Not every spot is created equally: some of the areas in your cortex are incredibly important (being able to speak) while others are less important. For example: Phineas Gage. The most famous survivor of brain damage, Phineas was a railroad worker who accidentally triggered an explosion that sent a railroad spike through his cheek, left eye, and into his brain. The only thing that changed was his personality. James Shreeve writes “[i]n place of the diligent, dependable worker stood a foulmouthed and ill-mannered liar given to extravagant schemes that were never followed through. ‘Gage’, said his friends, ‘was no longer Gage’.” Even so, he was still alive and functioning.It is hard to understate how incredible an idea this is. There are parts of our brain that, should they go missing, we may never care. There are parts of our brain that when damaged, merely change aspects of our personality. Remove the entire brain and we certainly die. Exactly how much of the brain could be whittled away before we could no longer live? What parts are essential to life and what is going on there?
***

Why do we drink? I am not trying to be philosophical, but I am trying to reduce the urge to what it is: it pleases us. We drink in celebration, to lower inhibitions, to blunt depression, to satisfy addiction. The ways in which alcohol is used and abused are not important for the discussion here, but I do want you to appreciate how powerful a motivator our own pleasure can be.In the 1950s, two scientists performed a famous experiment on rats. To map the brain (even now in neurosurgery) the physician will electrically stimulate an area and test for the expected response. Imagine a patient awake, with his brain open to the air, as a surgeon electrically disrupts certain areas looking for the portion of the brain that stores “mammals”, for example.
“Okay Jimmy, I want you to name every mammal you can think of.”
“Elephant, dolphin, tiger, …daaaaaa”
“Got it!”
Today’s neurosurgeon benefits from a rough map of the brain that has been established over years of investigations. But what if you didn’t have even a rough idea? What if you were back in the 1950s? Peter Milner and James Olds decided to poke around.
They experimented by implanting electrodes into the brains of rats, electrocuting them, and watching for the effects. They found that with a certain placement, the rats appeared to experience ecstasy on stimulation. Had they found the rumored “pleasure center”? Next, they introduced a lever into the cage that the rat could press at will to send a stimulus directly to its brain. What they found was disturbing: the rats would press the lever 2,000+ times an HOUR. They rats wanted it more than food and water. They would press it until they died.
***
Next installment: alcohol and the pleasure center in man…
]]>Six months. In six months I will have taken the USMLE step 1. I will go home, pack my bags, and get on a plane. In six months I will be in Southeast Asia.
I will swim with fluorescent algae. I will push my arms through the water and watch as their outline of my arm glows green/blue and then fades. I will get out of the water and watch the drops fall clear and splash brightly against the sand. It will be like cold, liquid fire.
Vietnam, Laos, Thailand, Cambodia. Two months between the USMLE and Clinicals in New York. My backpack, my roommate, and the $4000 I didn’t spend on a Kaplan course.
Southeast Asia. Six months.
Can’t wait.
]]>All of that sounds interesting except I can’t focus on any of it. There’s a patient in the courtyard outside the window whose been playing the guitar for the last two hours. He’s a very good player and singer. I wish I were outside and far away from this guy’s problems.
I told my roommates today that I was very close to ruling out psych altogether. They all laughed at that: “Like you could ever be a psychiatrist.” I’m not offended by this at all because it’s just so completely true.
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My landlady just popped and brought the baby over. While my roommates are cooing over how cute he is, I ask if I can hold him. Want to know a cool trick about babies?
If you let a healthy baby’s head drop suddenly, it’s arms will reflexively extend and grasp. I think this is a defense against falling from the mother’s arms. Instead, I like to use it in the following context where “*” means dropping the baby’s head.
“Now waiiiit a minute. You know you make me want to SHOUT*! Come on now, SHOUT*! Come on now, SHOUT*! Come on now, SHOUT*!”
By the way, this never gets old.
Greetings from St. Vincent.
Medical school is much different now. The material is coming like a flood, and every second you spend marveling at how much work you have to do you’re ending up farther and farther behind. Procrastination, I’m learning, is a luxury I don’t have.
Instead of teaching me how the body breaks, they’re teaching me how to fix it. I know this is the point of medicine, but I swear to you that over the last 18 months I completely forgot about it. I’m also learning that the body, while split into the parts of heart, lung, liver, etc., is still connected. Say goodbye to the days of easy questions that dealt with just one of these systems and say hello to the ricocheting questions that begin in the stomach, enter the heart and leave the spine. It’s all much harder, but in the way that it should be. I’d be disappointed if this ever got any easier.
Alice is ten feet tall and drugs are fascinating. Learning all of their names, side effects, contraindications and uses is like getting the keys to the car when you’re sixteen. That you’ll crash the car is a given, but dammit if it isn’t exciting! What’s worse, while I’m getting excited over a few names and a basic understanding, I still have no concept about delivery method, dosing, chronic v acute management, which drugs are more expensive and which drugs have conflicting benefits in the literature. I’m going to be stupid for a long time yet.
The school is REALLY trying to help us look the part for clinicals in New York. To get that newbie shine off of us, we’re getting soiled in the local hospital. Everyone goes twice a week to round with physicians and answer questions incorrectly. It’s great.
Embarrassed to ask a 60-year-old about her sex life? Newbie shine.
Hesitant to lift a woman’s breast to listen to her heart? Hope you don’t get any blood on your scrubs? Can’t tell a collapsed lung on an xray? Newbie shine.
It’s slowly coming off.
Anyway, the work is killing me and I have to disappear for a month. I’ll write again when some funny things happen. Oh, other things that happened since I last wrote:
Went to Milwaukee to give a speech. It went well. Went to Michigan for vacation with the family and became more tan than I ever was in the Caribbean. Went to Alabama for research. I got to dissect a fresh cadaver, which was incredible. The 70-foot stained glass window I made was finally installed in my patron’s home. I’m very proud of it. My youngest sister took off for College in Colorado. I’m very proud of her.
SHOUT*! toph.
]]>Drugs, Hugs, Hags, and Has-Beens:
“There is nothing lamer than people who live a sort of drug-filled, hedonistic lifestyle, then come to see the light and become crusaders against what they once enjoyed. You find this occassionally, former hippies or scenesters who suddenly find religion and then go around telling everyone ‘Yeah, I did this stuff, and really enjoyed it too. But I realize now it was wrong, and you all shouldn’t do what I did.’ Hey, you had your fun, so keep your fuckin’ mouth shut and let others find their own paths.
That is my brand of anarchism: don’t let anyone tell you what the limits of your experiences on Earth should be. It’s your right to fuck up. Just don’t whine so much if you find yourself down and out.”
“I’ve been in a pissy mood recently. Inexplicable. Need to remember to leave my knife at home. Can’t afford to get into any knife-fights.
Anyway, I’ve been thinking about personality disorders recently, since we talk about that a lot on the psych wards. I don’t like the idea, never have. As far as I can tell, the personality disorders were invented by psychoanalysts who got frustrated by patients they couldn’t pin on a discrete diagnosis on, but who had enough indiosyncrasies for the therapist to suspect they ‘just weren’t right.'”
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Those outside of medicine, I want you to know this: doctors are doctors because they know medicine. They are not doctors because they are great teachers. And who teaches future doctors? Doctors do. For students looking to learn, it’s the lottery of the bell curve. Will today’s doctor also be a great teacher, an ok one, or confusing? Most of us will end up drawing in the middle. This week it feels like I’m on the losing tail.
To the clinical tutors I have had this past week, this is my open letter to you:
If you ask me to take a patient’s history, then let me. Do not interrupt me because you think that asking her about her work with the church is irrelevant: I am trying to assess her physical activity and social support. This will of course vary if she simply attends or if she helps in community building activities. Savvy?
Every time you interrupt me, don’t kid yourself that it is for my benefit. You have, in your mind, the order of questions that you would ask. I know you think it’s the best, but it can’t be, because every single tutor has a different order. What you ARE doing is upsetting my rapport and rhythm, confusing both the patient and me. So, if your goal was to teach me, you’re steering us into rocks.
When I ask the patient, “So what brings you here today?” they always respond with their chief complaint. Never has one of them responded with “the bus” or “my Dad” or “my legs.” Every time you interrupt me to say that I should have asked that question in such a way as to preclude these responses, you are proving to me, beyond doubt, that you are only interested in finding ways to assert yourself. It’s like being taught by a smartass fifth grader. Stop it.
If there are two of you overseeing the group, agree beforehand as to which of you will be the leader. When you interrupt and contradict each other, it’s bad for both of you. My options here are to assume that one of you doesn’t know what he is talking about or that one of you is an egomaniac who has to assert himself. Nice teamwork.
If your goal is to mold students in your own likeness, then lead by example. If you quietly do an amazing job and explain to me why you make certain choices, I might just decide to emulate you. Slinging mud at other doctors and then bragging about being clean does not impress me.
How are these things not blindingly obvious?
When you pimp me, what are your goals? If you want to teach me how to think like a physician, then lead me with your questions in that way. If you want to show me that you know more, then please, continue to ask the same question repeatedly, basking in the six minutes it takes before someone’s dart in the dark hits your bullseye.
I feel like I owe you, the reader, an example.
The physician is asking us about the presentation of a complete break in the femur (thighbone) that is displaced (pieces are side by side). We say immediately that the thigh will be shorter (because the broken pieces slide up against each other since the attached muscles are still pulling). However, we were missing something.
“What else would you see?”
“Bruising?”
“What else?”
“Patient is in pain?”
“What else?”
“A bump where the femur is displaced?”
“What else?”
Pretty annoying, right? Doesn’t exactly have you thinking like a doctor, does it? Here’s my idealized version of the same conversation:
“Why is the thigh shorter after the complete break?”
“Because the attached muscles are still pulling.”
“Do those muscles simply pull in one direction?”
“No, sartorius is involved in external rotation.”
“So what else would the muscles do to the leg that is broken?”
“Oh, externally rotate it!”
“Correct.”
I haven’t had that tutor yet. I’m waiting for the law of averages to give me some time on that better part of the bell curve. When I get there, I’m going to try to become a sponge. For now, I’m trying to stay Teflon.
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I have no idea if this is normal. Going to school in the Caribbean is great, but it isn’t the US, and for that reason I always catch myself wondering if my experience is a “normal” experience comparable to my US studentdoctor peers. Here goes:
I’m still in M2 and the school is interested in giving us a lot of clinical exposure before the clinical years. It’s the logic of pre-kindergarten. Twice a week I’m off to the hospital with my roommates to sample Peds, Med, OBGYN, etc. In addition, we have Clinical Skills, a class where we take non-sick volunteers and try to work them up for the Congestive Heart Failure that they don’t have. So once a week I’m reporting a 3rd heart sound that I don’t hear or a nodular liver in another healthy person at the urging of the tutor and feeling very silly. I am fine with all of this.
I am not fine today. Today, an announcement was made in the morning that there will be no Clinical Skills lecture before we see our patients. Mind you that this is four hours away and there will be no effort made by ANY of the physicians available to give a talk, even briefly, on how to conduct a psychiatric exam and the special challenges therein. Almost forgot: I heard a RUMOR that we were interviewing psych patients today. I’d like to get these sorts of announcements from the school before the day of, maybe posted somewhere, but that doesn’t happen with the frequency that logic would dictate.
So with no preparation we enter the room. The psych patients will not arrive for another half hour because they have to take their meds at the hospital before being bused over. What?! I don’t consider myself a cruel man, but it’s going to be hard evaluating someone for a psychiatric disorder when they’re TRANQUALIZED. Can’t we leave them unmedicated for a while, loosen the leash and let them explore the space? Don’t I need to SEE the problem if I’m going to learn to DIAGNOSE the problem?
“You feel fine? You don’t know why you’re here? You feel happy?”
“This patient is being treated for schizophrenia with delusions of persecution,” says the tutor.
“Well the patient can’t seem to remember any of that right now.”
“That’s because he’s medicated.” I know, you dolt.
What a waste of my time. I could have played tennis against a brick wall this last hour and at least had pit stains to show for it. And what a missed opportunity! This time the patients actually HAVE the problems that we study. I couldn’t have been given a heads-up about this for some time to prepare? I hope such poor execution isn’t normal.
***
So much of what I read online is written by folks in Psychiatry. We’ve all read House of God, some of us have read Mount Misery, and all of it seems fascinating. Who doesn’t like leafing through the DSM and thinking of the people in our own lives? The mind is why I loved and studied philosophy. It’s why I did well in Neuroanatomy. Hell, I’ve cut a brain out of someone’s skull and held it in my hands. It’s exciting that so little of what goes on in the brain is understood because that means there is so much more room for discovery. To hear people talk about the patients they treat, the things they say and the sometimes profound shifts in personality that medication can induce makes me want to abandon my dream of surgery and dive right in. I’ll admit that, as someone who likes to write, the laziness of just reporting the absurd that someone else invents is attractive.
Instead, it’s like hearing about the greatest tasting strawberry icecream and not having a tongue to taste it.
I won’t do something stupid and level judgment against a discipline because of a few patients but I will say that, so far, I have not liked psychiatry one bit. I don’t have the patience. I don’t like staring at a talking rubicks cube, trying to figure out the right moves to let some bit of truth slip out. I don’t like feeling that I have to trick a patient into contradicting himself to help him understand something. I cannot stand the repetition. I don’t like seeing people tranquilized, or talking to people with no memory, or watching someone fidget and pick at herself uncontrollably. I know that these people need the help to beat those problems; I just don’t think I want to be there for any part of that journey. I’d rather just read about the successes.
I hope it gets much much better. I’m afraid that it won’t. Any words of (dis)encouragement would be welcome.
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Tevin is a neat kid, maybe 12, whose mother slams his head into walls until he stops asking why she’s beating him. He likes the disappearing-thumb trick that my father taught me. Mrs. K has just had her foot amputated because of uncontrolled diabetes. She doesn’t understand any of this, knowing only that she has “the sugar”. Jeremy has “THUG LIFE” tatooed across his chest and an icepick in his left shoulder.
It’s a jungle in here.
We’re finally in the hospital. Imagine us, each wearing our Grownup clothes under bright white coats, stethescope-necklaced with pens and books stuffing our little pockets. We look pretty stupid. For a lot of students, this is their first patient exposure. You can imagine the shock of all of this. Imagine how they balk at having to pull back the blankets from an 80-year-old woman and lift her sagging breast to listen to her heart sounds. Imagine their stuttering steps, their over-explainations to a patient who could not care less, and their unease with the breast-chalk that now tarnishes their previously shining virgin stethescopes. It’s pretty great, actually. Really brings me back…
My first patient was a 90-year-old. She was lying, her back to me, facing her daughters. I was a few steps in the door when she said with some excitement, “I smell a man!” I did not know how to act just then, having no precedent. My last patient was Mr. H. We had a conversation about his plan to die at home and how he was preparing his children for that day (which was a month later I heard). It doesn’t take long for people to break through the awkwardness of taking a sexual history or talking frankly about death. It’s this amazing privilage that we have as medical professionals and I’m so EXCITED to watch my friends and classmates go through the whole thing over the next two years.
Of course, I still know nothing about how to provide care. None of us does. It’s disorienting to know so little after studying so much and it’s the doctor’s job to make sure I stay aware of it. I’m told that in the jungles of Africa, when a Silverback gorilla spots you, they will scream and charge. If you run away, it will kill you. Instead, curl into a ball and break eye contact. The Ape will stand over you, snort, and then leave having established dominance. From then on, you’re free to walk amongst the trees.
So I’m standing in a jungle of knowing nothing when along comes Silverback, MD. Jeremy’s icepick had come close to this brachial plexus* so the doctor started to ask questions, slapping me around with his paws. I made the mistake of answering correctly, which is like eye-contact to them. He batted me harder, asking about all sorts of random things to throw me off any balance I pretended to have until I fell, incorrect. “Look at how small you are in my jungle! Look at it!” he was screaming, while beating his chest and snorting. Patient after patient, he kept poking at me, waiting for me to look up. Playing dead was useless: the poking would continue until I answered and the beating would continue until I was wrong. In case you were wondering, I’m pretty sure this is how they train students.
Doctors are like Silverbacks with amnesia and I’ve got to find this one a kitten or something to bat around so he’ll stop playing with me.
If anyone needs me, I’ll be in the fetal position.
*The brachial plexus is a large jumble of nerves around where your neck meets your arm and it contains every nerve to control your arm and sense the covering skin. It’s what a bouncer grabs to cause crippling pain. It’s where actors get shot without consequence. This is why actors can walk past bouncers unharmed.
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The wet season is very wet and runs from August to December. It can rain for days on end. If you bring an umbrella, make sure it is the type that opens to form a complete sphere around you, because the rain falls sideways. Honestly, go to a camping store and get a waterproof cover for your backpack, a light waterproof jacket and a shamie. You will be the envy of everyone. Another thing to consider is the mosquitoes. The breeding ground for mosquitoes is standing water, and there will be a lot of it. Invest in a mesh tent for your bed and screens for your windows (only applicable if living off campus). Want to know a fun trick? Instead of a mesh net, get a standing oscillating fan. If you go to sleep with it by your head, the mosquitos get sucked into the back of it and murdered. You get to wake up the next morning with a pile of them on the ground. Good times.
There is little rain in the dry season which runs from January till June. It is the best time to be on the island and enjoy everything that it has to offer. Go to the beach, learn to kite surf, bring your surf board, or rent a jet ski. Head to the capital and learn how to haggle in the market. Most of all, remember to get a tan so that people believe you when you say that you go to school on a tropical island.
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English is the language spoken in Grenada. In the school guide, they describe it as a “slightly lilting Caribbean accent”. I disagree. Those Grenadians that work with the university, or in another position that requires constant exposure to tourists and students, are easy to understand. Those that have very little exposure to foreigners can be near unintelligible, but once you have an idea for what someone is trying to say, everything seems much clearer. It is not unlike listening to lyrics from a difficult song after you have already read them in the CD jacket.
If you have a healthy sense of humor, the stressful things about Grenada can be hilarious. First off, if you go to a restaurant and read the menu, do not kid yourself and think that what is on the menu is available. The menu is instead a list of things that were once available and may be available in the future. This is due either to a lack of ingredients, the staff is too busy to make your order, or the staff does not care to make your order. So order something else with a smile.
Second, if you order a drink at a US bar and it takes more than a few moments, it is often because the place is very busy and the bar is understaffed. If you order a drink in a Grenadian bar on a dead night when you are the only customer, it will take even longer. This is not because the bartender is trying to piss you off or ruin your whole day as some dramatics will say, it is instead because the island is a slow place and you need to get used to it. That Grenadian bartender could turn to you and ask, “What’s your hurry anyway?” Try to remember that there is no hurry and life will be a lot easier on you.
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As a First-termer, I got up every morning around 7am and checked the class schedule. Typically only two courses are taught a day with each getting two hours of lecture time. On some days you will have Anatomy lab that can begin at 8 or 9am and lasts for three hours, or you have Histology lab at 8 or 10am that lasts for two hours. Lectures begin at 1pm each day and last until 5pm. You do not need to bring much to campus. I usually put my laptop, water bottle, two three ring binders and two textbooks into my backpack and grab the bus.
Eating on campus is not hard though students do complain about the selection. At the top of the hill (you will know it well) there are vendors selling fresh fruits and the Patels selling homemade Indian food. Halfway down campus is the Student’s Center which has two restaurants (Glover’s and Pearl’s) along with a convenience store. At the base of campus is the Sugar Shack. You will not go hungry.
Time before and after lecture is often spent in the library. The library has wireless internet and so should your computer (the “Computing at SGU” section of the SGU website does a good job of preparing you). During peak hours it can be difficult to get a strong connection (bringing an Ethernet cable is a bad move, as many of the plugs on campus work sporadically). The wireless network extends throughout campus into the lecture halls (you can follow lectures online or check email during breaks), across to the bus stop and down to the Student Area (where the gym and restaurants are located). Some students are able to get a connection in their rooms as well. If you live off campus in Grand Anse dorms there is a study room with a wireless connection. High-speed internet is available in off-campus apartments through a contract with Cable & Wireless.
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During your first two weeks here you have carte blanche to introduce yourself to as many people as you wish. Your class will probably go out each night that first week and I recommend you go each time. The first week does not contain difficult material and you will not have another chance like it. After this grace period the classes pick up a bit, people fall into routines and your opportunities to meet every member of your class will start to drop off.
SGU operates by four-month-long terms. This tricks you into thinking that each term is a year long and that people in second, third and fourth term are somehow separated from you. This is of course nonsense. The uppertermers will have advice for you on every class and most of it should be ignored. Instead, find a good DES tutor, give yourself a few weeks, and then start making judgments on how to handle your course load. Everyone should go to the Department of Educational Services (DES) office and take a look at all of their handouts on studying, test-taking strategies, and review sessions. It is a goldmine of helpful information.
SGU students study like they party: hard. Go to the Crab Races at The Owl every Monday night at Grand Anse beach. On Wednesday, everyone heads over to Stewart’s Dock for drinks and a live band. If you like to keep going until 4am, Banana’s is the place for you. There are so many organizations on school that every weekend has at least one sponsored party at the Aquarium, Thai Beach, Kudos, etc. Take advantage while you can. Before too long you will start looking forward to the weekend because it means no more classes and you have time to study. Yes, you will be ‘that guy.’
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No one gets a landline and you should not bring a cordless phone with you. So that means you are buying a cell phone. Since you are now going to travel from the mainland to Grenada and St. Vincent’s (and possibly Prague) you probably want a phone that can work in all areas. For this, you need to buy a Quad-Band GSM phone. There are two main companies that offer GSM service in the USA. AT&T and Cingular are now merged into one company, and the second company is T-Mobile. So here’s what you do:
1) buy a Quad-Band GSM phone from one of these companies
2) make sure that it is a pay-as-you-go phone with a SIM card
3) Google “unlock SIM” and pay for your phone to be unlocked
I’ll explain all of that:
There are four major broadcasting systems used throughout the world. So a Quad-Band phone means that you’ll never have to buy a new phone for travel. The SIM card is a chip that contains your phone number and your contacts. Put another way, it does not matter from what phone you call: if you put your SIM card in any phone the person you are calling will see that it is you. So if you buy a SIM Quad-Band phone at home, you will have a SIM card with your home’s area code. When you come to Grenada, you will buy another SIM card with a Grenadian number. At this point, you can simply switch the SIM cards while you’re one the islands and then switch them back when you return home. Taping them into your passport is a nice way to keep track of them when not in use.
The reason you have to “unlock” your phone is so that your T-Mobile phone (for example) will operate with a Digicel SIM card from Grenada (for example). Pay-as-you-go means that if you want to talk for ten minutes, you buy ten minutes. If you talk over that, the phone simply cuts off (after a warning of course). This means that you cannot possibly suffer overage charges and you don’t get roped into a contract. And why do you have to pay to unlock your phone? Because T-mobile doesn’t want you to buy there phone and then use it with an AT&T SIM card. T-mobile wants your money. Typically, these companies will unlock your phone for free if you’ve owned it for three months, but if you’re reading this now that’s a bit of late notice. So pay to have it unlocked from a separate code vendor and you should be set.
Some students make use of internet phones as well.
All in All, I paid $95 (phone $50, SIM $20, Unlock $25)
There are several programs that allow you to make phone calls over the internet for pennies a minute to anywhere in the world. Skype, Netphone, and PCPhone are popular programs and only require a headset with microphone.
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1000 Words
It’s amazing how a few photographs taken by students can add some perspective to the place. Go to Flickr.com and search for ‘SGU.’ It says something that the students love the school enough to put all of this together themselves.
My favortite albums are shot by
Josh https://www3.flickr.com/photos/joshy55013
Felix https://www2.flickr.com/photos/sravishankar
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Unless you arrive very early, it is difficult to find a place to live off of campus. You will not know which areas are safe, what prices are fair, and everyone that is coming to the island after First term has snatched up the best apartments. You will probably end up at the True Blue Campus or at Grand Anse.
The University is on the True Blue Campus. There are a number of dorms their: Superdorm #1, #2, #3, and #4. There is also upper-term housing in singles, doubles, four- and six-person suites. Your room will be very small, very cozy. It will also be very expensive. The pros to living on campus include waking up later, not having to use the bus as often, good security and being around people every hour of the day. The cons are the price, the size, campus burnout and being around people every hour of the day. It comes down to your personality.
If you grew up in the projects, you will love the dorms in Grand Anse. You will come home to crabs and lizards. Your plumbing may throw fits and your carpet may begin to smell. If you have ever been camping and like it, then this is the place for you. The pros of living in Grand Anse are the price (considerably cheaper), the location (it is on the beach and across from the Spiceland supermarket and mall), the atmosphere (people that can live happily in those conditions are generally relaxed), the food (Mr. Green Jeans and the Ladies are there to cook for you every day) and the quiet.
When it comes time to find another place to live, you can either enter the Lottery on campus or look elsewhere. I suggest moving off campus. You will be farther away so may need to rent a car and your security is window bars instead of guards, but even taking that into account it can be cheaper and nicer. You can find available apartments through word of mouth or the campus housing office, though their lists are often out of date. You can live in True Blue and this tends to be expensive for what you are getting. The advantage is being within walking distance of campus. The advantage to living in Grand Anse is being in walking distance to every store you could need. Next to Grand Anse is Mont Toute, also a thriving area with several shops. Lance Aux Epines is the Manhattan of Grenada with its paved roads and beautiful homes. Housing can be expensive here, but not as expensive as campus and you get what you pay for.
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It is GrenEHda, not GrenAHda. Pronouncing it correctly is a big deal. Grenada was described to me as a third world country before I came and this will not be your experience. Your time on campus will be indistinguishable from any university in the US; your dorm life will be no different than your undergraduate experience. Everyone uses the bus or drives a car. You will have your Subway, your TCBY Treats, movie theaters, malls, grocery stores, hardware stores, school supplies, bars and clubs. You probably will not be able to find the laundry detergent you like or fresh milk, but these are small things. Anyone who says you will be “roughing it” is lying to you.
***That being said, a few people each year have a hard time adjusting. Some have dietary concerns (it is not hard to be a vegetarian; it is hard to be a vegan). Some get very homesick or cannot adjust to Grenada’s culture. The pace here is very slow. ***
The very first mistake people make when traveling to Grenada is NOT taking a layover. Often times the airlines will overbook a connecting flight from Puerto Rico to Grenada and ask that passengers volunteer to take a later flight, often the next day. TAKE IT! You will be put up in a hotel, given miles for a flight in the future, and have a chance to enjoy another island carefree.
If you are flying to Grenada on a connection from Puerto Rico you will probably spend your first night without all of your luggage. The reason is simple: you came to San Juan on a very big plane and left Puerto Rico on a tiny little plane with propellers. This is the type of plane where they ask the passengers to move to different seats to balance the weight (if that sentence makes you nervous, self-medicate before takeoff). A puddle-jumper like this cannot possibly hold everyone’s luggage in one flight, so expect at least one piece to be a day late. Make sure that you have some toiletries and two changes of clothes in the luggage that never leaves your sight.
The airline will give you a number to call and you will have your luggage shortly. Try to come to the island early so you can take full advantage of Orientation week. It is nice to have that time for settling in, to speak nothing of all of the trips around the island that are provided.
Grenada’s weather has two settings: downpour and blindingly sunny, so come to the island wearing a rain jacket over a bathing suit. Grenada is likely hotter than you are used to. During those first few days, you will break a sweat from standing, lose weight, and drink water like breathing air. You will see students going to class wearing jeans and long sleeved shirts and wonder what is wrong with them. Just know that your body is getting used to the island; it takes about a month.
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I will only brush my teeth with Arm & Hammer toothpaste. I cannot stand anything else. So every time I fly down to the islands, I have all the toothpaste I will need for the term. A girl I knew would bring Downy drier sheets. The point is this: the shopping malls and grocery stores are sparkling clean and air-conditioned much like home but that does not mean that they are stocked the same. They will have everything you can think of needing but not necessarily your favorite brand. So if you are wedded to a certain brand of tampons or deodorant, bring enough for the term. Other than that, there is no need to worry. To the guy that brings 40 lbs. of Whey protein on the flight: we have a GNC-type store that has that. Do not waste the room and the weight. Also, you look like you work out.
You will wear shorts, shirts, and flip-flops every day. Have something nice to wear if you plan on asking someone on a date or celebrating at one of the fine restaurants. Every once in a while, their will be a banquet at the Governor’s Mansion or physicians visiting from our clinical years, so have something nice to wear for those fancy people. You will never be asked to wear a jacket, but maybe a tie. Bring a few pairs of scrubs for Anatomy Lab (you can still wear sandals). We have a nice air-conditioned gym, basketball courts, and a soccer (football) field so bring some athletic gear and your ‘A’ game. Things made of linen are always a smart purchase.
Binders are expensive on the island and worth the space in your luggage to bring a few. Multicolored highlighters are invaluable when reading biochemistry and hard to find on the island. I wish I had brought more. I also wish I had brought dry erase markers for the study rooms in the library. Bring a flash drive and a modest external hard drive. Students share all of their files and useful programs with each other via flash drives or iPods. That means entire seasons of Nip/Tuck, Lost, 24, etc. Each term also has a MacDaddy program filled with old study resources like previous tests, tables, and summaries. These information juggernauts can reach 10 gigabytes; plan accordingly.
As for your course books, the school supplies you with them the first week you are here. They are stored at the base of campus and are heavy. I would recommend picking them up in an empty piece of wheeled-luggage. Opinion varies in the upper terms as to which textbooks are useful and which never left their shrink-wrap. Take advantage of your Footsteps Buddy and try to figure out which books will be most helpful for you. That said, there are some books that most people wish they had. Unfortunately, the campus bookstore may not carry them or will sell out early. Check each Class Section for suggested books.
Depending on your airline, you can take up to 155lbs to the island. That is two suitcases at 50lbs each and a 40lb carry-on. You are also allowed a personal item that can weigh up to 15lbs. I suggest putting your computer and books into your backpack as a “personal item.” That easily covers 30lbs, freeing up more weight for your checked luggage. Play it cool, though. If they see you slumping under the weight, they will get suspicious and make you check the bag, which will cost you some money.
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I am five years old and running, my arms out by my sides like a banking airplane, around the lip of La Soufriere, St. Vincent’s volcano. We’re 3,800 ft above sea level and too close to the edge. I have to throw three stones before one goes far enough to hit the bottom of the crater. 10 seconds. That’s how long you’d fall and tumble it you made a wrong move. It’s easier than you’d think since I’m inside a cloud right now and can’t see in any direction.
I wanted to be first. The hike is in three stages with 40ft bamboo reeds bending overhead and hundred-foot drops on either side. We walk into and out of clouds, past rivers of bubble-rock from the previous lava flows, and up loose stones and ash as the summit comes in sight and the pitch increases. We’ve kept together for the most part, but with the end so close it’s each man to his ability. I’m in the middle of the pack and decide to start running. My legs are burning and I’m blowing off huge volumes of CO2. I know I’m among my people when Alexander asks, “Where’d you get the extra ATP?” I start using my hands; it’s that steep. I’ve passed 60 yards at 20 degrees and have the lead by a yard or two. No one else wants to pass me as much as I want to be in front, so it’s just a matter of pacing now. But screw it: I start to run again. My legs are shaking and burning and I would feel miserable if it didn’t feel great. I summit and it’s flat and I start sprinting to the lip.
As a kid I remember being awed by heights. Standing at an edge where a fall meant death, I would let me toes hang over just to know that I could. I was trying to prove to myself that I wasn’t afraid. Still am. I sat on the lip with my bag and swung my legs over to lean forward and look straight down. It’s never stopped being exhilirating.
Over the lip you can see a massive mound in the crater. It looks like someone tried to plug the volcano. 20 years ago, it wasn’t there, but the constant pressure of gas underneath has caused it to bubble out and displace the lake that used to be. Along the side, even 100 meters up, you can smell the sulfur and feel the heat from the center. I’m told that there’s a rope that leads down from the lip. I’m too tired today, but next week I’ll give it a try.
I am so glad that I go to school in the Caribbean.
]]>“Yes?” was all I could offer, waiting for the punch-line.
“This wear de keep de bodies?” he asked.
“Say that again?”
“The dead bodies in there?” I’m racing through the reasons that he would ask this and why I would answer him. That’s when I see the name tag. This man is one of our volunteer patients at the Clinical Skills Lab. Since we don’t do genital exams this term I still can’t explain why he was undressed and half-across campus, but this is Grenada and I’ll have to let all of that slide. He’s probably harmless.
“Yes, this is where we keep the cadavers. Can I help you?” Turns out that he came over to find out how he could donate his body to the school once he died. His pants fall down again as I usher him into the Secretary’s office. I watch her eye’s bug and offer no explanation; I wouldn’t want to ruin it for her.
* * *
Going to school in the Caribbean is fantastic if you’ve got the right head on your shoulders. If you go to a restaurant and read the menu, you can’t kid yourself and think that what is on the menu is available. The menu is instead a list of things that were once available and may be available in the future. This is due either to a lack of ingredients, the staff is too busy to make your order, or the staff does not care to make your order. If you need a blown tire fixed, you can open up the Grenadian yellow pages (which might as well say, “no we don’t do that, call this guy” on every page) or you can go to the roundabout by Lance Aux Epines and look for a guy with a grey beard and a sock on his head named “Vincent.” Vincent, you are told, is a good guy.
Not everyone that comes to Saint George’s University can take all of this. Sure it seems like a series of little things, but that’s what death by a thousand cuts is all about. I can’t imagine what it would be like working in any medical setting (or other high pressure situation) with the girl that stomps her feet when her luggage doesn’t arrive on time or the guy that loses his mind whenever we have a Grenadian Traffic Jam.* It’s nice knowing that in my future professional life, seeing “SGU” on a resume will mean that they couldn’t have made it through while holding on to those attitudes.
The person that does come here, takes everything in stride, and thrives is just the type of person I want by my side if things fall apart.
*Grenadian Traffic Jam: In Grenada, people often stop their cars in the middle of a two lane road to open the trunk and begin selling lemonade. Drivers then weave by to stop, chat and buy a drink. You’re going to be late, wherever you were going. Honking doesn’t help.
]]>]]>“Folks, regardless of medical school, there are those who shouldn’t try to become physicians–this path isn’t for everyone. A warning to those American students struggling to get into US programs considering a foreign medical school: a foreign school *is* a viable alternative, but since you aren’t dealing with the “cream of the crop,” (witness the profound statements above), expect to deal with a lot of behaviors from people that you’d think you would have left behind in high school. Add to that, the culture clash of the country in which you go to school, and it’s can make for a stressful mix–all of which, unfortunately, detracts from studying and applying yourself to your task at hand. Be prepared.”
I do not enjoy vacation. Studying medicine makes me feel so useful that I go into withdrawal outside of it. Reading Atlas Shrugged with all my spare time doesn’t help matters any. I try everything I can. I cut my vacation short by starting a week late, electing to stay in Grenada to dissect cadavers for research. I cut another week by going to Milwaukee for the Annual Congress of Clinical Anatomists. I lose a week to a Michigan trip with my family, and I leave that early to spend a week at the University of Alabama at Birmingham (UAB). Why? To dissect for research, of course.
Working at UAB is my first time in the South and it’s everything with fresh eyes. Southerners chew gum lazily. Without wind, you’re under a heavy hot blanket. When walking for coffee in scrubs, everyone says, “Good morning, Doctor.” It’s pleasant.
I am at the UAB with other members of my group to finish dissecting projects in the hours between the classes of their first year students. We have complete access to 35 bodies and we all feel like kids in the dead people store. Each of us has come a long way from those first heady days of Anatomy Lab. After all, we have chosen to be here without threat of a grade.
We’re cutting into people? I don’t want to; I’ll just watch. I’m glad they put bags over their heads. Should we name her? That’s disrespectful! No it’s not. I’m naming her ‘mittens’. Should we say a prayer first? Oh, god. Give me the goddamn scalpel, Amen. How’s that?
For all the posturing, it was a special thing to watch my hand cut into someone for the first time. It was my hand that did it, by the way. I had nothing to do with it. After so many bodies, it losses its specialness. When it’s time to work, you approach, address the body, and then dive in for cleaning and measurement. A few minutes later you zip up your work and it’s time for the next axilla.
Most of us have been the ones quick through the door when it came to cutting, the ones that called for the scalpels. But here at UAB, it is a little different. Their cadavers are fresher, fixed with less formalin, smelling less, more robust. It feels like walking into a house so clean that you kick of your shoes even though that’s never been your custom.
Most of the students that flew down can give a few days or a week. We would stay longer but our classes are starting in a couple days, a few thousand miles away in the Caribbean. A few students say, “screw it” and decide to miss a few days of the first week, this being such a great opportunity for work. It’s only because I decided to stay that I get this morning call,
“Marios, what am I dissecting this morning?”
“Severed head.”
Choking, “What was that?”
“Ask Vince to show you the severed head. Skeletonize the Facial nerve and clean away all fat and fascia.” Hearing my held breath, “Tophy, you okay?”
“Fine Marios. Just fine.”
“Congratulations. It’ll be fun. You’ll do fine.”
I find Vince. He takes me into the cooler where they keep the fresh cadavers. These people died a few days ago or a few weeks ago and have donated their bodies to the university. At UAB, there is abundance. I wheel a small bin into the prosection room and remove the lid. Thomas is staring straight at me.
I reach down to pick him up and can’t at first. Not expecting the extra weight, I give my arms a moment to recruit more fibers before he moves. I hold him in the air while another student helps me clamp the vise grips into either side of his head. Of his head. I adjust the lights, pull up a stool, and grab my scalpel.
I can’t do it.
I push his cheek and it moves. I try to draw the backhand of the blade against his scalp to mark my incision and I scratch some of his skin. Before, I thought that cutting a fixed cadaver was the great big leap, and I was wrong. I stare at Thomas some more.
If you’re going to be a surgeon, you have to do this. How many people get to work on a fresh cadaver? What opportunity are you wasting?! Do it, topher. DO IT!
I let the blade sink in and I begin to draw the curve of his hairline down to the front of his ear, then drop to the bend of his jaw and forward to the point of his chin. I pull the line upwards and around the mouth, into the sweep of his cheek where tears would have slid and then around his socket and up, until I meet again at the widow’s peak. He’s bleeding, not in force, but in an ooze that marks each position of a superficial vessel. It’s creeping me out.
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His face flap is in the bucket. It took an hour to do, pulling up a corner and separating it from all the anchors of fascia. The beauty of dissecting is that you’re only as fast as your mind. I was trying to save every vessel and nerve fiber early on, terrified of doing harm, until I remembered that the Facial nerve has no cutaneous branches. At that point it became snip, snip. Finding the target nerves leaving the parotid gland was magic. Pulling against the fat to see all of the brilliant colors of muscle, nerve, artery and vein is something that my fixed cadavers could never do for me. I’m no longer bothered by how real this all is; I’m too busy being hypnotized. The nerves branch and split, branch and split until they are thinner than hairs and I can’t believe that I haven’t destroyed them yet. They’re so strong and wet and alive.
Gross, messy, scary, morbid.
Say what you want about dissecting the face of a man that died days ago. Just don’t leave these out:
Amazing, glistening, beautiful, perfect.
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If someone were to ask me, “What’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever done?”, I’d answer with this: trying to be in control.
Working on the terminal onc ward is pretty stressful if you’re emotive. People came to our floor because they were going to die. A lot of them were there for a week to receive the next chemo cycle before heading back home. Some of them stayed for longer, months even. But no one ever got so healthy that they left for good. Thankfully, I’m not as emotive as most.
You start to get a feel (or think that you do) for how people are doing. Some are feeling so well that they start thinking their cancer may be going away. Others are holding steady with their treatments, walking up the down-escalator. Some are doing horribly but are stably horrible. Those are the ones that are just agonizing to serve. I remember starting on the floor and taking care of the same women for three months. Every two hours, adjust position in bed. Clean as necessary. It was always necessary.
I remember a frail patient of mine that was in her seventies. Her family knew that things were worsening and that this weekend would be her last. Everyone from out of town was coming in and spending the full day with her. As a tech, it was always a strange experience entering the room to take vitals or perform a blood sugar test. The family members would watch me so intently and then each advance their chins to me, awaiting the result. “Her blood sugar is 136.” When there is no control, there must be control. Keeping track of BP, HR, and sugar are all our best attempts at control of some kind.
The family left for the night. I had ten patients for my census and checked in on her as much as possible. She was heading downhill and her breathing was becoming more and more labored until she started using her accessory muscles to pull in the air. They call this “agonal breathing” which just about hits it on the nose. I stood by her side and waited for the nurse to respond to my page. I didn’t see her do it, but the woman reached out and grabbed my wrist. It was unexpected and cold and it gave me a start. I reflexively pulled away and then felt a heavy embarrassment and sadness for her. I think I reached out to hold her hand. The nurse came in and the two made eye contact. She had such fear and the nurse looked at her and said that it was okay. You’re dying. It wasn’t cruel or improper, but somehow perfect for that moment. She relaxed.
There was nothing I could do for her. She was dying in front of me and I would be there for her final new and final final experience. I saw that her lips were cracked. I got some lip balm, held it out, and between gasping breaths she pursed her lips so that I could apply it. That was my stupid attempt at control. I can’t remember if I held her shoulder, or hand, or just stood there doing none of those things. She was staring straight ahead, bracing. And then she stopped.
We called the family. They came up the elevators crying at 4 in the morning. They stayed with her until 6 and, before my shift ended at 7:30, I walked into the room. After taking off her gown, I tied her feet together. I tied her wrists together. And just as I had turned her side to side so many times before, I managed her into the big white plastic bag. I wrote her name on a tag and looped it into the zipper. Security came and wheeled her away.
Alive, I could do something for this woman. Dead, I could do something for this woman. But dying? They didn’t cover that in training and it seems like something impossible to get entirely right. Even so, when the best you can do is stand in the room and treat cracked lips, it seems especially futile. A new patient with a new cancer and a new family was in the room within the hour.
Two years later and I still feel the pang of failing her that day with my stupid attempt at control. Worse, I know that it was one of her last memories.
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The way that I came to St. George’s University in Grenada is funny to me.
My father enjoys playing frisbee golf. Chances are, you’ve never heard of it. Each player walks around with a backpack filled with different types of frisbees: long and short drivers, mid-range, putters, rollers, frisbees that cut an “S” in the air, and so on. They throw these things around trees and through clearings toward a metal basket and they LOVE their sport.
My father is a friendly guy with a laugh that makes others want to laugh. He makes easy friends. The summer after graduating from college I was wallowing at a part-time job, hoping for anything medical that could help me gain an apartment of my own. I watched the Graduate and thought about going into plastics. Friendly guy that he is, my father met a nurse named Rob N. that figured the apple couldn’t have fallen to far from the tree. He arranged an interview at Big Hospital and I had my job as a tech.
I did all sorts of things at this job and learned that the worst of what I had to do didn’t bother me that much. This was supposed to be the litmus test of medicine, akin to seeing a girl without makeup, hungover, vomiting. Still love her? Then go marry her. In my mind, I was ready to go to medical school.
I applied to several schools, was interviewed, wait-listed and rejected. It was from the physicians that I had come to know on the hospital floors that I learned of SGU in the Caribbean. I did some research, was impressed with their board pass rates and residency placements, and decided to apply. A month later I was interviewing and received the first acceptance letter in a long time.
Down in hurricane-wrecked Grenada began the baptism of fire that is Biochem, Anatomy, Histology, Embryology and Clinical Skills in the space of 4 months. I loved it. Socially, academically, and melanin-wise I was thriving.
The next term I had the brilliant idea that I would tutor Anatomy and Biochem. I discovered that in the captive and competitive audience that is a medical class, women find brains as attractive as anything else, giving rise to the phenomenon known as “nerd hot.” To boot, my best friend was the most sought after guy on campus. I invited him to tutor with me.
During the meeting of the Anatomy tutors, a knew professor was introduced to us. Stolen from a nearby school, Dr. Loukas said that he was interested in anatomical research and would like to start a research group at SGU. He had our full attention. Meetings were arranged and a club was formed. We were the founding executives.
One year later, our research has continued with few pauses. We put together our projects and headed for Milwaukee for the Annual Congress of Clinical Anatomists to present. I gave my first terrifying speech. Their, we met another professor interested in anatomical research that Dr. Loukas had come to know quite well.
Two weeks later, at the end of what remains of our summer vacation, we are in Birmingham, Alabama dissecting 8-10 projects in 35 cadavers. We begin dissecting each day at 7am and work till 12:30 when the M1’s come in to learn about the brachial plexus. We’re off till 3pm but can’t go many places with the stink of formalin that we wear like capes. Instead we nap and read. I finish The Tipping Point and start to wonder at all the forks in the road that have brought me here.
I fly home. Tomorrow I fly off to the Caribbean to finish the last part of my second year. Tonight, funny enough, is the going away party for the guy that started it all. Rob N. It’s the only day I could have been home to see him and say thanks and the last time I’ll see him for a while.
Funny though, that it all happened at all.
]]>I came home from my family reunion to books. For seven straight days I studied with breaks for food, completed hundreds of practice questions and made review sheets. And then review sheets of my review sheets. Monday was the Path final. Most people walked into this exam knowing exactly how many they could miss to save an A. I was no exception and after the exam finished and we were allowed to check our answer, you could hear people cursing under their breath as the first fifty questions sealed their fate before they could consult the other hundred.The toasts downstairs were split evenly between “Horray!” and “Path sucks!” My roommates still had some shopping to do. You see, Kelly is in charge of the Senior Slide Show and the refreshments. They have given him entirely too much money.
After getting alcohol and pizza, the roommates meet up to practice for the Advanced Clinical Skills final. Each of us takes two tests, learns them, and performs them on each other. I pulled Peripheral Nervous System and Abdomen. The exam is cumulative but we ignore the tests premidterm.
The next morning (9:00), we put on our Sunday best and grab our little kits. Here’s how it works: every imaginable test is laid out on a table face down. You stand at the top of the lecture hall until summoned to pick randomly. You then follow your tutor into a booth with a standard patient and begin. I picked up the Venous System. Lame. Because I haven’t studied this (premidterm material), I look at the checklist to jog my memory of the Trendelenburg test and Pratt’s test. The tutor yells at me, “You can’t look at that! Now follow me.” I play dumb, drop the test back into the pile face down and follow her. “Where’s the test?” “You told me that I shouldn’t look at it!” “Go back down and grab the test.” She shakes her head at my idiocy. I walk down and pull the Abdomen Exam. Perfect. 95 A.
So I’ve finished Path and the ACS lab. I’m feeling the euphoria of “finished.” We all sit around the apartment watching the World Cup and helping Kelly finish the slideshow. It’s going to be great. We set up at 6:00 the student bar which consists of several 5 gallon jugs of Hurricanes mixed by our own Louisiana natives. With the class appropriately loosened, the slideshow begins. It’s a riot with clapping and cheering along its entire length and Kelly is the true rockstar of the hour.
The next morning, instead of sleeping off a hangover with the rest of my class, I’m in the Anatomy lab with a bone saw, cutting some man’s hat off. I can sum up the entire experience with one word.
Dusty.
If you’d like to read the complete description, click here. The gist is that cutting into someone’s head, while gruesome, is also thrilling. To carry out the dissections that I want (on an intact jaw) I have to cut a circle around the top of this man’s head, cut out his brain, and then cut straight down the middle of his face. After all of this, you pull the two halves apart and you’re looking straight down at the target. My arm is sore and at least once I was shocked out of the moment by the absurdity of it: left hand clutching the lip of his skull, right hand punching the hacksaw down the center of his face and rattling of in my head the spaces in our skulls that I’m destroying. All of this and smiling, I could forgive someone for stumbling into the room and smartly assessing the situation before walking out slowly. And backwards.
What I’m doing know has nothing to do with collecting data and everything to do with a pretty picture. You see, whenever you carry out interesting anatomical research, you have to do a good job collecting data, but the pissing contest of “who is the best dissector” is far more important. That’s why I’ll spend two whole days on a jaw that would take two hours to dissect the ugly way. All that time in the lab, alone, was difficult, especially with everyone else out on the beach day after day.
Especially when all of the pacemakers go off at 9:15pm every night. They’re screaming at someone to change their batteries. I whisper back to them, “It doesn’t matter.”
So I end up spending a week dissecting a few jaws and sending off a case report to the Journal of something or other. I’d love to sit around and just be nostalgic about Grenada, but my time is tied up in boxes and small errands. I do make time for a few things. I ride to Grand Anse to eat at Nick’s for the last time. After that I see Mr. Green Jeans and ask for one last banana shake. I’m not even that hungry; I just want to hear him swing the mallet. I make it up the hill to Maurice Bishop highway. I wait my turn to pass a Red Reggae bus that opens up the rest of the straightaway. And with my shirt flapping up against my back and the Hero Panther Moped squealing for a fifth gear that isn’t there I’m reaching 80km/hr and flying. Tomorrow morning I’ll be calling a bus to take me to the airport, but that’s tomorrow. Right now I’m passing the wind, the sky is blue walls with a pink ceiling, and it’s beautiful.
Goodbye, Grenada.
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Preparing for my oral presentation was awful. I’ve never spoken in front of a large crowd, let alone a crowd of MD’s and PhD’s that specialize in the area that my little research project concerns. I’m going to get up on stage, my voice will crack, my hands will shake, I will flub one of my pre-recorded sentences and the pin will skip. I will sweat halos around my arms and neck and then take the audience along the agonizing journey that is reading straight from the PowerPoint as they also read along with the PowerPoint. “Thank you for your time. Please no questions?”
Arriving at the Hotel, I slowly bump into the other 20 students from SGU. We each have practiced our poster presentations to our unjudging mirrors, but not to our Research Professor. He arrives, having printed out the posters from kinkos and flying them here. We grab a room and he marches us one-by-one to the front of the room and says, “You have two minutes. GO!” It rattles people but we get the point: we have to be flawless and unthinking. Everyone has a lot of work to do before our next drill sessions tomorrow morning and night. Becuase we do not have a projector, I cannot rehearse and recieve feedback with everyone else. I’m nervous about my speech and won’t sleep well till Wednesday night.
Tuesday is spent rehearsing, running errands, and socializing. One of the big reasons for coming to this Congress is to meet physicians and professors in research or at schools for arranging clinical rotations. As a Caribbean medical student without a campus or hospital in the states, there are huge issues with reciprocity. This makes any clinical rotation outside of our “safe” hospitals nigh impossible. You have to know someone inside.
Reciprocity: You want to send a student to our hospital? Sure! Just so long as we can send students to your hospital. No hospital? Then no.
The first opportunity to meet people is tonight at the wine/cheese social. I’m not very practiced at this and balk quite often. All 20 of us have 50 business cards made up for this trip in case anyone should want to contact us. We feel pretty ridiculous owning them.
Keith Moore, Art Dalley and Anne Argur are here (writers of Clinically Oriented Anatomy). Holy shit! These people are Anatomy rock stars to me. Kyung W. Chung is here of BRS fame. If I had panties I would throw them at him. I CITE these people! EVERYONE cites these people! I have to come up with a word for nerd-groupies.
ANATARDS will do.
***If you’re in a room where you are unknown, where a bright Peach, Aqua, or Royal Blue Oxford shirt. Introduce yourself to people on the far left, tell all your funny stories and charming one liners in three minutes and listen to them for ten. Then repeat on the exact opposite side of the room. Now, get a drink and stand in the middle. Strike up a conversation with someone very attractive and hold their attention. Wait fifteen minutes for the plan to set and watch as people know your name and are introducing themselves to you. I saw this executed to perfection THRICE!***
Tonight after the social we rehearse again. It is amazing how much everyone has improved. Presentations that were choppy, unsure and peppered with like’s, um’s and uh’s are now crisp and professional. I’m incredibly proud of the group. Everyone heads to bed leaving me with three other people. I turn on the computer and, sitting, give my presentation to them. They say it’s perfect and I’ll do fine. I want to believe.
D-Day. Wednes-Day. I put on my nice suit with the tie that matches my slides. I rehearse the speech three more times at an average of eight minutes. I walk downstairs. The fruit bowls and bagels aren’t really helping. What I need is a nice cleansing vomit. I cannot stop my hand from shaking and my heart is up in the 120s at a sit. Whenever anyone wishes my luck or mentions my presentation, the muscles of my face tighten up and I forget to breath. My voice cracks on “Thanks.”
I kill a few hours with the rest of my group. They are in the other room presenting their posters. They tell me that someone was just looking for me. He asked about the student giving the mandible talk. He said he was an oral surgeon and couldn’t wait to hear it, and that there were a few other Head & Neck people in the audience. My face tightens and I excuse myself. Up on the 18th floor I open my Netter and proceed to draw out all the arteries, muscles and bones of the Head & Neck and I go over in my mind how I will describe my approach on dissection, perchance I get a question on it. I am now a nervous wreck.
I go back downstairs to listen to a few of the oral presentations. The first one is amazing. The second one is even better. The third one is horrible. I feel so much better knowing that I’m no longer in the running for first or last place. I sit in the dark and deliver my speech to the back of everyone’s head. It goes well.
As my time comes, everyone from SGU stops what they are doing to come watch. They call my name, I walk on stage and I can feel my heart rate dropping. I fumble with the video cord, plug in my computer, and manage to get the first sentence out of my mouth. The rest is a black haze. People are clapping and a woman in the front offers a comment. “I agree with your comment, and thank you.” I have no idea what she just said.
I walk off and meet my Research Professor and friends in the back. They all have flattering things to say and each offer me a drink. I take them up on it, one by one.
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It’s Wednesday morning. It’s Wednesday morning at 10:00 and I can’t stop coughing. I should be sleeping off a hangover with the rest of my class but instead I’m in the Anatomy lab with the doors closed.
My current research concerns the arteries within the mandible. Normally, you divide a person in half by saw and explore each half of the jaw. Congress is coming though, and we need a few spectacular pictures for my presentation. So, instead of the usual, I was handed a bone saw and then a cadaver. And then a flashback.
It stinks for weeks, all of these cats. I’m supposed to pick my senior classes by 5:00 today. I want senior year to be easy. I also want to dissect those stinking cats. Screw it; I’ll take AP BIO. It’s a year later and Jared just stole my tail. He has quite a collection, him and his bone cutter, stalking from table to table stealing the tails. I’ve been vigilant which is why it took him so long to defile my Mittens. I met Mittens in a plastic bag. She had been pre-skinned from wherever she came. Skinned except for her paws. Mittens.
We’re kids and we’re in high school and we’re dealing with death. Poorly. We’ve worked our way up to this: nematode, grasshopper, squid (which we then grilled and ate), frog, fetal pig, and now cat. There’s the kid that’s too sensitive and is very disturbed by our behavior. He doesn’t think it’s funny when we start quoting Lord of the Flies and dancing. We call him “Piggy.” I pull on the tendons of Mittens and have her kick in the air to “Da da da-dada, da da da-dada.” We cope by trying to upstage each other with our indifference. Like I said, we’re handling this poorly.
It’s the last week before the final and I’ve finished all of the dissections. With my free reign I dissect what’s left. I take apart the forelimbs and the scapula. I take off the hind limbs but can’t free the hips. I free the ribs and all that’s left is the crooked cane of the Central Nervous System and it’s protecting bones.
That’s what I’m looking at right now: an empty thorax, ribs intact but flailed, the vertebrae from L2 on up and his untouched head. No arms, no legs. Mittens. I’ve spent so much time in a book and away from the lab that I’ve lost my detachment. Holy shit, there’s a man cut in half on the table. But I have work to do and feeling uncomforable is a waste of time. I have tricks. I focus on one spot, one square inch where I have to cut away his skin so the saw can make contact. That one square inch isn’t he. It isn’t a person. It’s a square inch. I can cut a square inch.
The saw is dull. It’s motorized and oscillating by millimeters instead of spinning.
Those tiny motions mean that it cuts bone but not flesh, and there are only two spots that still have teeth. It makes the work slow and heats the motor in my hands. I have to take breaks between my sweating lips and palms. Maybe you’ve never had to cut a circle around someone’s head, but know this: it’s dusty. That’s why I’m coughing. People that walk in through the far door start coughing as well, but they’re reacting to the smell of burnt bone. You have to have your face near the action to appreciate the soot.
I finish my circle, insert a wedge and torque against the seam. It makes this wild cracking sound and I wonder what I’ve missed. I call in a professor who inserts the wedge, torques against the seam and explains to me that I am appreciating the sounds of the separating dura. wow. WOW! That’s amazing! He pulls off the top and instead of feeling jealous, I am amazed. That, right there, is a human brain and I’ve never seen one. I’m stupefied. That’s why I jostle the brain back and forward and wonder why it won’t come free. For a moment, I’m an idiot again. I forget that it’s connected to every corner of the body in one way or another and won’t jostle free of a damn thing.
The brain lifts in the front so you can cut the olfactory nerves. A dividing membrane travels front to back like a Mohawk splitting the brain into left and right. That gets cut. The Optic Chiasm, the trigeminal ganglion, the nerve gaggle entering the internal acoustic meatus, the membranous tent dividing the calvarium into the cerebellum’s part and the cortex’s part like two fighting siblings. All of it: cut. It wiggles free.
This is my own instant review of everything I’ve read but haven’t seen. Not really anyway, not like this. To finally free the brain, I have to cut the brainstem through the reticular formation. I have so much respect for the reticular formation. It’s the lizard part of our brain and it’s a geographical mess but beautiful all the same. And now it’s in my hands. I am holding this brain and rotating it, rattling off all the sulci, all the gyri. The arachnoid matter actually looks like a spider web. I can’t believe how lucky I am. I just can’t. If this man were alive, I know that pushing on this spot right here would make his lips go numb. This spot right here and he would collapse. This spot: fear. This spot: memory. It’s just amazing.
Another student involved with research walks into the room. I tell her what I’m doing and watch her beam. Now I get to watch her roll it in her hands, see the relationships, and slip it into and out of the skull. For the first time we really understand epidural hematomas and uncal herniations. Of COURSE that would kill you! Transtentorial herniation? That would be catastrophic!
So, why go to to medical school? Because you’ve never been afraid of blood. Because cutting into something that was once alive bothers you, but not too much. Because of all the places you could ever be, it’s a place where you’re with people that can share and celebrate something as awesome as the human brain even when you had to tear it from someone’s head. Because maybe, on a Wednesday afternoon, you’re biggest problem could be holding a saw to someone’s skull and choking on the dust.
But smiling.
]]>By the time I’ve finished, I’m too worked up to sleep. The breast helps. I’ve learned that nothing is so boring as female pathology. If everything else fails, I read and write. I’ve read so much lately since discovering GoogleReader. I’ve discovered that an entire world of medical writers exists online. Students, residents, attendings and retired. They all have interesting things to say and many have published their work. I started reading one journal and lost a week of my life to depression. You see, his writing is much better than mine. Painfully so. I went back to his archives over the last three years and read it all. Exhausted, I decided I would could never write as well.
Or I could just copy him. So I started writing online as well, a second blog to the one that keeps the record of all of these emails. Sorry for cheating on all of you. The material is a little more stream-of-consciousness and a little less appropriate for mass emails. I write about wearing sheepskins and kicking wildly, you know: pagan things. I started writing a few medical essays and have submitted them to an online magazine of medical writing. I had two articles accepted and, feeling worth something again, have stopped writing so frequently.
I have a piece of software that tells me how people find my site. Search items include:
(1)the greatest pair of shoes
(2)inguinal hernia video exam
(3)coax feces from anus (Can’t. Stop. Laughing)
(4)yellow jealousy
(5)”why go to medical school?”
(6)reasons not to go to medical school
(7)shiny scalpel gonna cut you open
(8)where is the hanging statue of Lenin in Prague?
Back to the books. I have learned that in Rheumatoid arthritis a painful growth of the joint occurs and this is called a “pannus” which makes people want to walk less, become obese, and develop an apron of fat that hangs over their knees, called a “panus.” I have no idea how my dyslexic friend is cutting it here.
In Clinical Skills I keep getting the same tutor. Most students hate this guy because he’s unprofessional. He cracks jokes where every punch line is “that’s what SHE said!” He offers to meet all of us at Angie’s after class which, from what I’ve pieced together, is a whorehouse behind the Grand Anse Bank. He sits nervously, rocking back and forth always stealing peaks outside the curtain. Whether he’s checking out a student, watching the clock or high as a kite I don’t know. He describes a certain type of gait as “Clarke’s Ataxia,” after his favorite rum. In a previous life he inspired A Confederacy of Dunces.
Why don’t we complain? Why do we continue to let him be our tutor? Well, this is Clinical Skills after all and each of us thinks that he’s making us better at handling unprofessional people. We’re also trying to diagnose him. My money is on “Henry the VIII’s Affliction” otherwise known as alcoholism with a splash of tertiary syphilis.
Still in school, my family threw a reunion in the Poconos. I took the weekend off to meet related strangers. Off the plane and into the rented van, we quickly fall into our old roles: passive-aggressor, attention-seeker, policeman, frayed nerves, joker, instigator, smartass, complainer. I should give my family more slack since I’d forgotten how funny they all can be, when drunk. Two drinks in at dinner and we’re laughing about our own idiocy and the tiny miracles of iPod Jesus.
All’s well. I have my Path final in three days, so I’m wrapping this up. I’m embarrassed that my arm is sore from playing a video game where I had to hold a plastic gun at eye level for twenty minutes. I am not embarrassed that I spent twenty dollars to beat it (not an exaggeration). Of course, money was spent on dumber things.
The Larkin Clan was 6 tables strong in the banquet hall, and my brother and cousins were sitting at a table with a pitcher of beer to a man. Wasn’t too long before every other chair was in concentric circles around the booze and people were trying to eat seven saltines in a minute. I’ve never been to a race track, but this is what I imagine happens: Everyone sits around with money, someone emerges as an “expert” on how to pick a winner, and then people make twenty dollar bets while the horses choke on saltines. One horse can only finish two saltines and is put down while everyone mutters that, “it would have happened sooner or later.”
This was the same evening where I accused a relative of being too shy. Turns out her jaw was wired shut. In good company, My uncle wondered on a crowded elevator if this was some kind of “wheelchair convention.” Close, it was a retreat for people with Multiple Sclerosis. Yeesh.
By far the biggest event of the weekend was Karaoke. I cringe whenever I see that word but my family did a fine job. One of my related strangers is an actress getting her masters. She went up and brought the house down with “Material Girl” and “Genie in a Bottle.” My cousin Ryan took a different approach: gusto. 6’4″ monster that he is, it’s hard not to cheer.
Karaoke singer’s are fascinating and I’ve tried to classify them.
The singer: this person has some pipes. They can pick a song, do everything correctly, and walk off to applause.
The shower: this person is delusional about their pipes. With a singer’s swagger, they pick a song, match it note for note until you don’t, at which point it’s jarring and painful for everyone. They didn’t know this would happen since they usually have the backup singers inside the radio to carry them. You feel awful and pity clap.
Guy singer: rumored.
Average guy: plays his strengths and avoids the weakness. For most, this means picking a song were the singer “talks.” REM’s End of the World or Billy Joel’s We Didn’t Start the Fire fit the bill. You talk, louldly with gestures, and fool everyone. Don’t be fooled by Johnny Cash’s Ring of Fire. That’s a hard song.
The Calvin: you’re particularly awful at carrying a tune but by the grace of God you know this already. You pick a “talkie” and then butcher it, all in good humor. It’s better if everyone knows this song so that they become involved and share in the joke. You then sing Billy Joel’s Piano Man and manage to sing “La, did de da, did de da-ahhh!” off key. People laugh. People cry. You’re the hero of the night. Nice job, Cal.
That was the reunion. Cheers, topher.
Addendum:
(1) the journal that is hauntingly well-written: https://tomwaitsatemybaby.blogspot.com/
(2) the online medical magazine is Grand Rounds. The archives are here.
(3) My youngest sister just graduated from High School and received an iPod Nano. Supposed to hold 1000 songs, she was boasting that hers held 1050. I asked her how many of the songs were about Jesus (she’s very religious). “Around 400.” It’s a miracle.
There’s been a fair amount written about the true cost of medical school. A quick survey includes:
1) quarter of a million dollars, down the crapper.
2) 4 years for the privilege of losing another 3-5 years
3) previous relationship
4) previous waist (3 and 4 may be related)
5) all previous hobbies and interests
6) ability to have non-medical conversations (include with 3 & 5)
And we slug it out, each of us, for the dream of becoming competent. I find little solace living with the knowledge that everything I have learned I will likely forget, and that everything I really NEED to know I won’t see until years 3, 4, or beyond. Ergo: nothing I am learning now is making me competent. Makes it hard to give a GODDAMN about osteomalacia.
So I’m fighting back. I’m going to save each and every person out there from doing this for the wrong reasons. How, you ask? I am going to start posting here all of the useful things that I am learning in medical school. Things that will change your life, every day. After reading these, the best medical gems, do you still want to come learn the boring stuff?
This is the first installment:
Working Title: Reason #2
Alternate Title: The Grace of Defecation.
First, let’s start with a little Anatomy. You’re a tube with limbs. You’re mouth is connected directly to your anus. Along the way it bubbles and flares into your stomach, small intestine and large intestine. Your large intestine is also known as the “colon.” I didn’t know that before coming to med school, and thought the colon was it’s own organ just like the mysterious “prostate,” which I thought meant “lying down.”
Everything you eat is slowly sucked dry of the nutrition and turned into waste. It’s this sloppy green paste that’s found in the small intestine. Then the colon takes over and the magic begins. The colon sucks the paste dry and ages it, like the worst wine imaginable, into a brown solid. The colon fills with this and stores it until it’s convenient to void it, and aren’t you glad for that small courtesy?
This is my drawing of the colon (Fig. 1). It bubbles and squeezes and pushes the waste through the Ascending Colon on the right, it travels along the upper deck of the Transverse Colon, and then it slides on down the Descending Colon. You’ll notice that the Descending Colon is a little “off aim” from the rectum, that is, it isn’t a straight shot. That connecting segment is the Sigmoid (S-shaped) Colon and its little kink is the life-saver. Without that, it would be much more difficult to restrain your bowel movement (BM). At last, we have the anal sphincters. You didn’t know there were two, did you? Yup, the inner sphincter is under your body’s control. Like any Control Tower, it doesn’t let anything take off until it sees a need. The outer anal sphincter is under your conscious control and has to wait for ground clearance. Once that clearance is granted, it’s the pilot’s decision for go/no-go.
Now let’s talk technique. The pressure of building feces is usually enough to have the BM. Untrained children know this. That’s not why you’re reading this. You’re reading this because you are a professional, and professionals keep current with the latest journals. In the event that you have passed the golden two minutes and are losing hope for this BM, there are tricks both mechanical and chemical.
Mechanical: Remember Fig. 1? Like any hand-held maze with a single marble, the trick is to coax the feces down the chute. The order is crucial. First, lean hard to your left (Fig. 2). This ensures that any marbles in the upper deck are packed into the Descending Colon. Hold that position, shake a little, use your best judgment. When you are satisfied, bank a hard right (Fig. 3). This maneuver will hopefully un-kink and straighten the Sigmoid Colon, ensuring a straight shot and maximum pressure against the Control-Tower-Sphincter. Hopefully, you get clearance.

If this does not work,you have reserves. Your abdomen is filled with your guts and sits below your lungs and heart (Fig. 4). Your abdomen is also shrink-wrapped in muscles. Both can be used to advantage. Most everyone knows that crunching up your abs and leaning forward helps.
Both moves compress the abdomen and build up pressure. But without incorporating the lungs, it’s like throwing a fist flat-footed. You’ve GOT to put your weight behind that punch! You do this using the Valsalva maneuver. It was originally developed to help push pus out of the ear. We’re going to modify it.
Because you’re chest is next to your abdomen, building up pressure in one builds pressure in the other. That’s why a punch in the stomach (increase in abdominal pressure) knocks the wind out of you. That’s why building pressure in your chest is going to knock the poop out of you. To build up pressure in your chest, take a deep breath, close your throat (or pinch your mouth and nose), and SQUEEZE! Try to forcibly exhale against your closed throat, press your elbows against your sides, crunch your abs and lean to the right. If you’d rather use a more familiar tack: blow your nose (Fig 5). Hopefully, your best efforts will bear fruit.
That was graphic, right? Now that we’re done with mechanical, let’s talk chemical. Certain foods help us void. I remember the first time in my life when something was “stuck” in there. My father brought me a bowl of Cheerios. I was six years old and didn’t know any better. While fiber and other ruffage (think leafy greens) helps keep us regular, it’s more preventative than curative. For the right here and right now, you’ll need some caffeine. Caffeine is a stimulant and a diuretic (makes our urine clear). Clears the mind; sharpens the senses. It also accelerates the colon’s normal shuffling action. Unfortunately, our coffee mugs are usually out of reach, and it’s a little embarassing to call a coworker or family member for a cup. I’ll never forget the time I ran out of toilet paper at a friend’s house. “There’s more underneath the sink!,” he yelled. I leaned over to throw the door open and there, next to a fresh role of Downy, was a single can of RedBull. This was a man who knew what he was doing. I’ve kept an emergency can by my thrown ever since.
So that’s my advice. Rock left, then right. Blow your nose. Have an emergency can of Red Bull. I just saved you $45,000.
Having read this, I know that each of you is thinking: “What is wrong with this person? Who sits down to write a manifesto on the bowel? With pictures? I can’t believe I just spent 5 minutes reading that.” To which I respond, “Try, just try, to forget it. Also, you’re welcome.”
Disclaimer: I have not conducted barium studies to verify my shuffling bowel theory. I am not a nutritionist or a gastroenterologist.
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In my life, I know that I want to have piles of money and work with complicated things. In highschool I thought computer programming was the answer. That was until we left the comfort of C++. In undergrad I thought Economics was the answer. That was until my love for Micro was stomped out by Macro, it being the bigger of the two. It’s been a theme of mine to love something until it was hard, and then love it much less. Finally, in medical school, I’m starting to get a handle on it.
I can be a big-picture kind of guy, but mostly I like minutiae. If you want to write a test that I’ll fail, don’t ask me about the type of Reed-Sternberg cell seen in Lymphocyte-depleted Burkitt’s lymphoma, because I know that one. Instead, ask me what lymphoma children get. In the tree of my mind, I’m leaves without branches and it’s windy in here. It’s why I do well against my roommates in Jeopardy. It’s why I couldn’t explain any of what I’ve learned to my parents. It’s why, as a second year student having seen the material three different times, I can’t explain the female menstrual cycle to anyone. I’m young: women and babies are too big-picture.
Everything endocrine is too big-picture, and every time I see the material coming at me in the syllabus, I make a promise that this time I will achieve deep understanding. I will come to knowledge, and I will own it. Never happens. I looked over my Histo notes from a year ago and saw to my horror that I had labeled the anterior pituitary as the hypothalamus and had kept that distinction throughout my notes. Those 10 pages of stupid stared at me; mocked me. “Remember in high-school computer class when you wanted to write programming code? Remember when you cried and quit over nested loops? I remember. I remember you’re an idiot.”
Economics is beautiful. Nested loops are beautiful. Endocrinology is beautiful. It’s all about homeostasis and balance and listening and I suck at it. I think that the Liver and Biliary System is the most amazing thing in the body and I want to study it until I’m yellow in the face. I’d love to be some species of Endocrinologist but my M.O says that I’ll shrink from that dream and instead become a surgeon. Those who know me say that I’m instead a surgeon with hormonal delusions. At 24, I’m still blaming puberty.
Next week will be my forth attempt. Every time I have failed has more firmly cemented my learning curve. And though I remain optimistic that this may be the effort that changes all of that, I cannot ignore the brutal truth of those two standard deviations in front of me.
I will probably fail at the academic side of medicine. I will instead marry an Endocrinogist, become a surgeon, and look with jealous eyes at the Anesthesiologist. He’ll probably have his computer open. I’ll lean over and see that he’s writing a computer program for an economic pet project of his that he nursed through medschool, which came easily for him. And while he’s kicking my dog and getting married to my first girlfriend, I hope I remember that I’m thankful for being good at anything.
So I’m not big-picture. The sooner I make peace with that, the sooner I can look at the glint from my shiny scalpel and forget about it. I’ll sing the scalpel song that Todd from Scrubs taught me:
“Dum, did de dum, did de dum, did de SHINY SCALPEL!”
“Dum, did de dum, did de dum, did de GONNA CUT HIM UP!”
In medical school, I have options. I can do a few of the following:
1. Stay healthy.
2. Get As.
3. Have a healthy relationship.
4. Have a social life.
5. Do research.
6. Get tan.
The interplay is fascinating. When I go for As and Research papers, I gain weight and lose my social life. When I’m trying to be a good boyfriend, research and books go by the wayside. Also, if I’m happy in the relationship, I gain weight. I could get tan, but then I’d just be round and brown. Plus, being tan requires maintenance, and if I was capable of that then I wouldn’t be round. Staying healthy was never really in the cards.
3rd term with all of its free time was my only real shot at nailing more than three items from that list. Funny then, that I remember so much of what I learned then as training for getting angry at ungrateful patients (that I haven’t had) over not following my advice (which I haven’t given). So what if a smoker comes in complaining of a cough for the last two years; I’ll feel sorry for him. I’ll bond with him over my obesity and diabetes. He has his 30yr pack history complicated by chronic pneumonia and I’ll have a 20yr donut-breakfast history complicated by a double-chin.
Why the focus on my health? Today I sat at the computer and noticed that instead of the effortless inhale that I’ve been so used to, I had to fight against a roll of stomach squeezed against my belt buckle. “These pants must be too tight.” In my empty apartment, I look left and right before opening the belt and letting loose the top button. I took a deep, satisfying breath. “That’s better.”
About five minutes passed before I had my running shorts on, house keys in hand. I went for a jog. I’ll never again lie and say that I “ran from campus to the roundabout” or “went for a run.” I’ve been friends with too many cross-country runners and track athletes to think that the way I lurch forward while shuffling my feet constitutes a “run.” I know just as well as they do that I might travel faster if I was speed-walking.
I should be better at this. I used to jog in my previous life back home. It’s harder (for me at least) without a running partner, and I tried to get my sister running with me. She, being a little overweight, would have none of it. “People will see me and think that I’m fat.” Which is true. Most people love to take a cheap shot at a stranger. Before I had trouble breathing, I remember seeing an overweight person out jogging and thinking to myself, “Someone should tell her that it’s not working.” Not now though; not since having sisters. I see people jogging and think, “Good for them. Jogging sucks.”
And I would never do it to stay healthy for health’s sake. Instead, I subscribe to the Yo-yo plan of jogging:
1. Jog and be miserable until skinny
2. Stop running and begin slow descent into happy fatness
3. Become disgusted with fatness and buy a new pair of running shoes (and jog in them)
The problem with this plan of mine is that once my body adjusts by pumping more blood, burning more fat, and increasing my basal metabolic rate I’ve also developed a constant gnawing hunger that rears its head 20 minutes after any meal. And dammit, if I was strong enough to say ‘no’ to that stupid hunger in the first place I wouldn’t have overeaten and I wouldn’t have a few pounds to lose.
Frustrated with failure, I do the normal thing: run for a half hour, drink a beer in the shower, and call it a day.
]]>Speaking of freedom, the hog squeals again. I dumped $300 into my moped to get it running again and it feels great to be cheating death on a daily basis. Just yesterday I was trying to pass someone that decided to swerve violently in front of me and slam on the brakes in hopes of causing an accident. Thank you slackline; the balance you taught me saved my life. It was over before I knew what happened, but the students in the car behind me let me know:
“He tried to kill you. You tried to swerve out of the way and your bike went sideways and skid forward a yard without flipping on top of you, and then you got control and went to the side of the road. He looked back at you and screamed something. It was definitely on purpose. Is your foot ok?”
I look down to see that two of my proud climbing callouses have been ripped from my foot and the holes are bleeding. Sandals are not protective. I thanked them for checking on me and continued driving towards the nearest bandaid. I think that when my life really is in danger I’m going to be robbed of the whole “life flashing before the eyes” bit since near as I can tell I just draw blanks. The bike is now for sale.
For the first time since coming to Grenada a year and a half ago, I’m homesick. It doesn’t help matters that I am alone now since Sherin and I divorced. Sorry to dash so many hopes about torturing her in Michigan but it isn’t to be. No, I don’t want to talk about it. And instead of dealing with it in a mature way, I’ve elected for distraction.
This includes looking online for a tutorial on how to whistle with two fingers. I have technique but not power. I’ll keep you posted on how it goes. I still say the alphabet backwards once a day.
I edited the paper for the Annals and sent it back. Two days ago I received notice that it was accepted. I feel sorry for everyone with a birthday that’s 4-6 months away, because you’re getting a copy of the Annals of Thoracic Surgery that you DO NOT WANT and WILL NOT READ but are GETTING ANYWAY. I found out that I have one of the oral presentation slots for Congress this summer. I’m up against 14 other students, one of which won the prize last year. I have it on good authority that the boy whose voice cracks the most often will win this year. Fingers crossed.
The exams I studied so much for went well and while Path still remains, Microbiology is over. I learned some amazing things in that course and am sad to see it go. A few of the gems:
Military officers do not contract gonorrhea, that’s for enlisted men. Officers are afflicted with “bacterial urethritis.”
I rarely spell “gonorrhea” correctly. In fact, all medical words that contain an “h” have to be preceded by “rr.” Diarrhea, amenorrhea, rrhiccup, and so on.
Doctors are paid by the syllable and charged by the word. That’s why you’ll hear “Pyelonephritis by hematogenous spread” instead of “The bacteria got to your kidneys by your blood.” If each word costs a dollar and each syllable pays a dollar, the first sentence pays $9, the second sentence pays $4. So as a physician, I can either be plain-spoken and poor or rich and confusing. I think I’ve found my calling.
That’s all for now. CONGRATULATIONS HONORA!
]]>“You don’t like it, well what should we have instead?” So I have suggestions of my own. But that’s just going to fill the place with things that I like. So if you have an opinion, please post a comment and I’ll make sure that it finds its way to some of the higher-up mucky-mucks.
Also, I’d love some t-shirt ideas. Here’s the dumb stuff so far:
“Welcome to the Rock”
“Eat at patels”
“It’s GrenEHda not GrenAHda”
“I (heart) GND”
“I (nutmeg) GND”

William Carlos Williams once wrote that “so much depends upon a red wheelbarrow, glazed with rainwater, beside the white chickens.” And he was an idiot. So much depends upon momentum, and every med school student knows this.
It usually happens two or three weeks before an exam, but you’ll see every student stay later in the library, talk less, take shorter meals. They’re switching into higher and higher gears of focus. It takes a while, but the hope is that the week before the test they’ll be operating at their maximum, absorbing everything, learning like a machine. Once that test is over, they don’t celebrate or take a day off. They hunker down for the next four days, never changing gears, in order to tackle the next exam. Momentum is so valuable and so hard to build that losing it over a celebratory beer seems irresponsible. And it is.
Once the week of tests is over, most will gather around a bar, drink the weekend away, and gladly lose all the ground that they’ve gained. Others will relax for a day, and then start on new material with the momentum that they refuse to lose. And this works, for a while.
But the thing that you learn afterwards is that so much depends upon balance. Studying straight, 14 hours a day, for five weeks and you start to burn up and burn out. You lose the joy of learning. You hear the stories of what you missed that weekend and soon enough you’ve lost your precious focus. It’s times like these where you have to push the responsibilities away, go out, and remember how funny life is.
Tonight I went to Stewart’s, a local bar on a floating dock. Students are buying 16 beers at a time because they hate waiting in line, a lot. The men’s bathroom has two urinals, and I feel humiliated every time I have to use that one that is obviously for children because I’m not 6’10”. At the end of the night a young couple knocks on my door asking for ice, and promises that they’ll bring me some ice tomorrow. I try to explain to them that I can just grow some more but they insist. Fine, I’ll take your ice cubes.
This recharges my batteries. This is what I’ll laugh about when I’m locked in the library for the next three weeks rebuilding my momentum.
“So much depends upon a young couple, sloshed with warm liquor, begging for ice.”
Take that, William Carlos Williams.
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This is from a talk given by Dr. Moninger at St. Vincent’s. It’s rough and I’ll add to it as I approach this hurdle myself.
Most important things
1. Good 3rd year grades
2. letters of recommendation
3. previous research
4. usmle step I score
5. 1st and 2nd year grades
-on test day, wear your least favorite long sleeves shirt
-you can’t mark on scratch paper, mark on plastic sheet (laminate a sheet of paper)
-cannot bring in baseball cap, electronic watch
-they videotape you while taking the test
passing is around 57%
avg is around 65%
best is about 80%, this is the best anyone ever does
-you will feel bad after exam even after you studied hard
mean is around 215-218
passing is 182
question types
-vignettes
-pictures
-charts
-calculations
60% of exam is new every year, but they compare everyone on the 40% of questions before
just to get any residency, you want to score above mean
if you get in top 75% of usmle, you can go almost anywhere (225 – 230)
-questions are written by a committee, all members of the committee must agree on each question
-questions based on core information, not research projects
-if there is a disagreement about the answer, the question is gone
question breakdown (approx)
70 – path
50 – phys, micro, pharm
40 – anatomy, behavioral science, biochemistry
-most medical students take 4 weeks to study for step I and take it right after you study, if taking review, take a 1 week to consolidate information
-gpa is more of how quickly you can stuff it in
-I recommend studying from 8 am to 5 pm
5 rules for doing well
1. know the material well that you study
2. keep it simple
3. know differences rather than similarities
4. do half hr of micro and pharm every day
5. rehearse out loud
do half an hour of micro and pharm each day
-med students want some sense of accomplishment
-just do 3 new drugs a day for 20 days will significantly improve your pharmacology score
-doing 15 new drugs a day for 5 days will not significantly improve your score
Rehearse out loud
-we tend to fool ourselves when we read quietly to ourselves
-the real test of knowledge is talking
Good news
-you can study the material you learned here and do very well
-if you created course notes or in some way condensed the material, this would be the best way to study from, sometimes the obsessive and organized people win
Kudos to my Mother and Petra, the only two people to read “retsfa si tebahpla” and realize that it was supposed to be “retsaF si tebahpla,” or “alphabet is faster” written backwards, which is in fact retsaf.
For all of those coming to Michigan this summer, Sherin is in tow and terrified. She has learned the names of the five brothers and five sisters, the spouses and children. Her three comments thus far:
“I cannot believe how Irish you are. Alex, Colby, Honora, Maura, Connor, Colin, Riley, Kimberly, William, Edward, etc.. My name is “Sherin”. I need to dye my hair red and my eyes green.
“I say “like” too much. I can’t meet your father. He’ll, like, never want to talk to me again.”
“Tell your family that I’m not going.”
—-
I’ve been keeping busy aside from the general grind of school by wrestling with SGU over their admissions material since February of 2004. I wrote a “Welcome to Grenada” guide after first term and had that sent out to the next class of students. People seemed to like it. I reminded the folks in New York to send it out again with last terms class and they forgot. It’s complicated, so I understand. Let’s see if they can box their way out of a wet paper bag and send it off this term. To make sure, I emailed the person responsible with the letter, again, and have not heard a response.(I’m going to jump around a bit)
So the 2006 Match Day was a month ago. Match is a process where every gradating medical student ranks the residency programs that they want and every residency program ranks the graduates that they want. Somewhere, in the middle, they meet. Coming from a Foreign Medical School, about 50% of graduates match. At SGU, the number is closer to 80%. For a US med student it’s closer to 100%. Like all the students at SGU nervous about the hurdles ahead of us, I wanted the data from the match. I wanted to know how SGU faired. It wasn’t a surprise to me that it wasn’t available.
As a student here, little of the information that we want is available. For example: next term I’m going to be living on another island working in a hospital. While there, I have to choose where in NY or NJ I want to have my second two years of medical training. I’ll probably want to know something about those hospitals before I make that choice. I’ll want to know what other students thought. Actually, I want to know now.
Unfortunately, that information isn’t available to us. The reasons are 1) the school hasn’t hired someone to make that happen and 2) no student has just been pissed off enough to do it themselves. The Kantian that I am, I know that if I’m going to be mad at some student for not having already done it, then I have to be mad at myself for not doing it now. So our story begins.
I wrote the folks at studentdoctor.net saying that I was an SGU student and that I wanted to let people know about the school. They gave me a nice little cubicle on their website where I now write about SGU. I started my own website and began posting “guides” to each term and class, to Prague, to the BSCE test, and so on. I advertised this in a few forums at school, the assistant dean of students got a hold of it and included it in a campus mailing, and so at least a few students here are checking it. I made an appointment with the assistant dean of admissions and showed him everything that I had. Luckily, another admissions dean was on the island and came to meet me a few days later.
I gave him my pitch about information that’s easy and accessible, that students are unhappy about being in the dark about so much for no good reason, and that the school was losing applicants every day that think they’ll be studying by candle light. I wasn’t asking for much, I had done most of the work already, and I just needed someone with the power to say “yes” to say “yes.” And he did. He liked all of it. I gave him all of the files, the website, and he got on a plane to New York to speak with the not-assistant dean of admissions. So I may have a new job with the school, and maybe in three years students will be complaining that the Student’s Guide to Grenada is out of date. But at least it will be there.
—
So that’s all for now. I have a testathon over the next few weeks. And I’m disappearing for a bit.
Everyone join me as I look forward to the summer, topher.
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Good luck with 4th term. Lot of work, lot of fun, lot of time in the library.
These courses are going to overlap a great deal, mainly with infectious agents, immunology, and diagnostic procedures. The review books that were the most helpful: First Aid for USMLE, Micro/Immuno BRS
MICRO (5cr):
The department does an excellent job on some sections and horrible on others. You really need another resource to handle and structure the information. I used the First Aid for USMLE step 1 book and the Micro/immuno BRS. I highly recommend each. I did not buy the Micro text. Too much information. Several times in the notes, a reference will be made to a table or figure. When it came time to prepare for the tests, I just checked it out of the library, found the figures and moved on. Save your money.
PATH (13cr):
Path is challenging because of the alien teaching style (group lab work) and the volume. Topics in Path are broken into Modules. You will have 6 before the first exam, 4 before the second, and the rest for the final. Each module consists of around 30 slides that are descriptive of different pathologies. Among your group, you will split up these slides, go to the library to prepare a presenation on whatever you were assigned, and then present to the group. For the first half hour of every lab you are free to say as many wrong things as you want, but then the tutors descend. Once present, they will listen like hawks for the first piece of stupid to fall from your mouth, and they will then punish you for saying it by asking you questions that you cannot answer and slowing down the group (your fault). Then, since no one could answer correctly, your tutor will explain the problem to you. Don’t get hostile towards the tutor; it’s only because you screwed up that they had to fix it. That said, some tutors will insert comments here and there and hijack the lab. If this isn’t the way your group wants to work, all you have to do is say so and the tutor will stop. They’re there to help you, I promise.
So if the members of your group take their responsibilities seriously and don’t try to bullshit through an answer, things will run smoothly and you’ll cover your slides in the time allotted. If not, then there is going to be some disappointment and hostility when a pattern emerges. You’ll have to come in on days off to finish when you could be studying. For this reason, I beg you to pick a Path group full of people that you think will DO THE WORK. If one of your best friends is a lazy bastard, then she needs to be in a group with her kind. Don’t feel bad about any of this: the less work they do, the more work you do, the harder path is for everyone. Groups on top of their game are having fun. Be that group.
The biggest problem that hits the Path student is Volume. VOLUME. There are going to be three and four and five good sources for information, and if you try to pull the best from each to make your notes then you can kiss the rest of your life goodbye. With all that volume comes the mistake of thinking that it is all important. It isn’t. For example, when researching C.neoformans, you could either write a book or you could write:
“small cell, thick capsule, india ink, AIDS meningitis.”
When the test comes, it’s hard to memorize 300 books. One liners are just easier for this kind of volume. I’m sure you’ll find your own happy middle.
As for books:
The Path manual with black and white pictures is available in color .pdf on angel. I never used the path manual that I bought and instead worked from my computer. So I wouldn’t buy it a second time around. However, many people used it to write down their notes in lab, and then would also annotate with the lecture handouts. The great advantage of this is that ALL THEIR INFORMATION WAS IN ONE SPOT. Having three different books open along with dr.google can be a bit overwhelming, especially when it comes time to study.
Make sure you get the macdaddy. It has audio files (Sokumbi’s Reviews). Indispensable. It also has every lecture slide completed in PowerPoint format from previous terms, so you can get an idea of what the hell you’re supposed to be doing that first week. It’s also the great equalizer if you’re confused by something your tutor said that week.
Big Robbins: amazing text. Pocket Robbins: also amazing. Bought both, used both every day. I also bought the Pathology BRS but it was too much. I stuck with my Robbins books and the notes and did alright. DO NOT BUY THE ROBBINS REVIEW OF PATHOLOGY QUESTION BOOK. Look to links…
Now for the websites.
Pathguy: Path professor famous for his easy explanations. Architecture of the sight is a little odd.
WebPath: Website with quizes, timed quizes, quizes with slides, path case of the week. Amazing preparation for the tests. Has all the questions from Robbins Review of Pathology, so you don’t have to buy it.
eMedicine: Went to this website almost every damn day.
Clinical Skills:
Yup, you get to hang out with your Path group one more time. All in all my favorite course of the term. I bought Pocket Bates‘ and a stethescope. The PD kit was a little too expensive for my tastes and I wasn’t won over by the tourniquet and tongue depressors. And what use I’ll ever have for a BP cuff, well, I may never know. Of course if everyone decided that then we’d all be screwed since I did rely on at least two people in my group of 6 to have the kit. My vote is that the CS program should supply the kit for labs and tests themselves. End rant.
The Powerpoints on angel are good review and a video is shown at the beginning of every lab. Channel your inner-trained monkey and you’ll get through it. When you’re examining your classmates make sure you go with confidence. The tutors can smell your fear and uncertainty.
Remember that the majority of your CS grade comes from Saint Vincent’s, so it isn’t the end of the world if you have to come unprepared every day in order to stay current in Path/Micro.
NUTRITION:
I have yet to begin Nutrition, but trust the people that told me to just buy the book.
Hope it helps, topher.
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I worked in a hospital for over a year on the Hem/Onc floor. We were the highest Onc floor, which meant we had the most terminal patients save for the ICU just above us. The night shift was a long shift, and we would pass it at the nurses’ station talking about nothing. The nurses would tell me about each patient or go through the charts with me (which might be against JCAHO, might not be) and I’d try to absorp what I could. When a patient needed to go for a CT scan, I would take him in his bed or wheelchair and sit behind the consoles watching the slices of their body on the screen.
After a year, even without any training in Anatomy, you get an idea of which cancers are the worst and what they look like on the CT. You know where each organ sits in the body and what it’s supposed to look like. And more than all of that, you can tell when the CT tech is holding her breath and the physician brings his hand to his mouth that this person is in some trouble.
So it was with Anne. She was a little younger than me, a year maybe. She went to a college that I knew well. We might have known some of the same people. She came to our floor with her parents and sister. I admitted her, went through my “this is everything” speech after I took her vitals, and let her family know that I was only a call-button away. She was beautiful and healthy and trying to make the best of it.
The admitting physician called me over with a wheelchair and I took her down to CT. She asked me where I went to school, if I was a nursing student or a med student (neither at the time, but hopeful), and my age. We had a lot in common. I helped her onto the table and then went in the back with the monitors. The Tech held her breath, the doctor covered his mouth. I saw what they saw: hundreds of tumors in her liver. “Poor girl. She’s so young.”
Everyone was speaking less as I took her upstairs and she knew. When we were alone in the elevator, she asked me, “So. What do I have?”
I didn’t say. “I’m just a tech; I can’t read a CT.” Again, she knew. I brought her back to her room and she said, “thank you.” My shift ended a few hours later, but not before every nurse on the floor knew about this girl.
I came back the next night and I could tell that the doctors hadn’t told the family. I came back the next night and off the elevator I could hear the papers moving at the secretary’s desk above the sounds of the nurses’ conversation. They had told her. I looked at the assignments and she was my patient that day. I rounded, got all my vitals and emptied urine and talked to families. Her room was the last. I came in ignorant and smiling because I’m not supposed to know what everyone knows. Her mother met me, told me it had been a hard day for the family, and that the nurse already got the vitals. “If you need anything, please…”
“We know. Thank you.”
She became sicker, friends started to visit, and then she left for a different hospital. I never found out what happened to her.
——-
Working in the hospital, that first week, you’re obsessed with knowing everything about the patients. You write their first and last names on your record sheet, you know what they did for a living, and you look at your insensitive coworkers that don’t know their patient’s names until they read their wristband. They have patients 3, 4, 5, 7, 9, 10, 14, and 15 instead of Mrs. Hayes, Mrs. Bopp, etc. You tell yourself that you’re going to remember the names of every person. You’re an idiot.
I’m no different. I tried it and slowly they slipped away. Then I started forgetting the names of people that had been on the floor for weeks at a time. Then I couldn’t remember the names of the people that had died on the floor, or the ones I had watched die. Then I couldn’t remember even 10 of them.
But I’ve always remembered Anne. Everytime I feel the year I spent in Hem/Onc slipping away and I can’t remember the nurses’ and the doctors’ and the patients’ names, so long as I remember Anne I feel like I haven’t lost it all. And I wonder how she’s doing. And I worry about her often.
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I assume you want to do well in medical school. A trick I’ve learned since coming to Grenada is this: talking helps. After you’ve read about the sympathetics and the parasympathetics, spent some time in the library committing the topic to memory and worked through a handful of practice questions you start to feel comfortable with the material. Then you find yourself in a conversation with a classmate, trying to explain the concept to him when you realize: I don’t really know this. You stumble over your own explanation and a couple of excellent questions later you think about all the time your spent working on your wrong answers and you want to cry. At least I do.
That was my second week of class in Anatomy. Afterwards I started studying with the guy that asked the great questions and made sure that we talked through all the concepts every couple of days to keep each other on the ball. It shouldn’t surprise anyone to know that it works like gangbusters. After that we found another person that asked great questions and he was studying with us too.
We were lucky to find each other early on, stick to our schedule for covering each course, and to end up testing well. With the confidence of doing something correctly, you start to see the game emerge between the students and teachers. You begin to read the notes and see the test questions buried inside them. You start coming to group review with questions that you’ve created to stump your friends. They come with questions of their own and you fire back and forth. You bet a beer that such and such will be on the test. You bet three beers and four beers. You have to get out flash cards to keep track of all the bets. And at the end of it all, exhausted from the exam, you meet at the bottom of the hill in front of the D-store to tally-up and celebrate with your class. It’s intoxicating.
Remembering the thrill of learning and the excitement in the eyes of a person that “achieves understanding” of a difficult topic is what you cling to when two solid weeks of exams loom two weeks away and you’re holed up in the library hating the clock as it ticks past midnight. You remember that and then you see an interesting detail in the notes that you bet your friend doesn’t see. And you write it down. And you think about that beer you’re going to win.
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I knew back in the hospital as a tech what all nurses and patients have known since time immemorial: doctors can’t draw blood. They’re horrible at it. Shouldn’t matter, right? Doctors have other much more important things to do like Chest tubes and Lumbar Punctures and all the other things that make an aspiring med student salivate. As an underling, I was almost grateful that I could be better at just this one stupid thing. What’s funny is that patients don’t think that way. When a physician walks in and starts stabbing and missing, they change in the eyes of their patient and become a little less Superman and a little more Clark Kent. Too bad that it happens over some stupid blood draws.
But here’s what really gets me: they get to pull ABGs! An Arterial Blood Gas is a collection of oxygenated blood from a pulsing tube in your wrist. It’s deeper than a vein, harder to draw correctly, and with more serious consequences. Patients wnjoy this even less than a vein puncture. So since my first days in the hospital, I’ve wanted to know exactly what kind of training future MDs get in the arts of nursing. Well guess what…
OUR CLASS JUST DREW BLOOD! That’s right, 300+ students that have never held a needle were shown a 10 minute instructional video explaining what happens when nothing goes wrong, and then they were given a tube, tourniquet, needle, cotton swab and bandaid! We were placing bets on how many students would pass out, vomit, or just walk out.
Guess what: THINGS WENT WRONG! Needles with vacutainers still attached were pulled, sucking tissue with them; veins were blown and swelling under the skin with tourniquets still tightly fastened; and hands were shaking so violently that the needle was scrapping back and forth before it had the chance to hit the target. There’s a rule among phlebotomists that it takes 100 draws to get comfortable and trully competent. With that math in mind, 3 people had correct draws today. Pretty respectable, I think.
Our group faired well: three shaky hands, two blown veins, only one blood spill onto the table and a lot to laugh about. Good day all around.
P.S. If you need a summer job that pays within reason: phlebotomy is the way to go.
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It’s probably unfair to call this the “House effect” because this problem predates that show by a few decades, but I’m going to anyway.
House effect: obsession (of both teacher and student) to know (in detail) the aspects of a disease that you should never see in your entire life.
I learn that 95% of all tumors of the gallbladder are adenocarcinomas. Ok, I’m fine with that. What I’m not fine with is a page of notes then devoted to the minutiae of that remaining 5%. It’s not necessary. It wasn’t necessary after I learned that 90-95% of lobar pneumonias are caused by strep. pneumoniae, and it isn’t necessary after I learn that 98% of all peptic ulcers occur in the antrum of the stomach and in the duodenum. You can keep your 2%; I don’t want to know it.
Under the same logic, I should NEVER HAVE TO KNOW ABOUT ANTHRAX. I’m staring at two pages of Anthrax notes right now, and while I feel very prepared to hold my own against a talking head on FOX NEWS, I sure as hell know that I will never put this information to clinical use. And let’s say, for argument’s sake, that I did? Let’s say ten years from now I see a case of anthrax: I’m calling the CDC and letting them cough up their lung (which is what everyone should do, regardless).
The logic of the last 5% is pretty simple: if you treat 100 patients you’ll see it 5 times, so you need to know it. I understand and respect this. I also understand that all the truly useful things I ever learn will be on-the-job. So if during rotations my Resident decides that I really need to know the 5%, then I’ll know it. But just imagine how much more useful it would be if every medical student walked out of the first two years knowing 1) the top five causes of everything or 2) the causes that cover 95% of cases. Instead, I feel like I lose sight of the forest because the people writing my tests think the ant on that piece of bark on that rare tree is too interesting to skip. So I should probably know that instead.
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So congratulations! If there’s any course that signifies medical school to the undergrad, it’s Human Anatomy. After this you should know every bone in the body, every muscle that moves them, and every nerve that orders them around. And I’m kidding. You will cover a fair bit of it, know some interesting clinical presentations, and be able to explain to your friends back home what “fight or flight” is all about. And isn’t that the goal? To sound impressive?
This course has changed a bit since I took it. Instead of having every student slave away in the lab cleaning fat for a grade, the department now pro-sects (a professional dissection) every structure of interest and then takes you through ID, relationships to neighboring structures, and pop quiz. I think you get to dissect the first day on a space that’s impossible to screw up too bad: the superficial back. Of course this didn’t stop me from cutting all the way to the ribs on that day. And yes, an announcement was made to the class that I was an idiot.
If you’ve taken the course already and want to freshen up or are taking it for the first time and want a heads up, this site is great. It shows the dissection of the entire human body in easy-to-download quicktime movies. Another great website is the University of Michigan site. Several classes have lived and died by their practice quizzes. Get a wrong answer: it tells you why you’re wrong. Most students click all the wrong answers anyway just to see what they might be missing. And for those of you with the free time to dream of overachieving, they have surgical videos as well.
Now for the books. The school gives you the combined oil paintings of Frank H. Netter, may he rest in peace, and the “Baby Moore” Clinical Anatomy book (make sure you read the Blue Boxes). For a book with a more gross approach to anatomy, the Color Atlas of Anatomy by Rohen is pretty clutch. Some students go so far as to buy Clemente’s but between you and me: that’s overkill. For those out there who like coloring books, they have those too.
The school produces their own Anatomy manual in binder format and all of the lectures are online as PowerPoints. Review at your leisure.
Strategy for covering all of this material? Who knows. The first week or two of classes is light, giving you every opportunity to study like an idiot and learn everything incorrectly. It happens, don’t sweat it. Instead, learn about the different ways to study and make a trip to the Department of Educational Services (DES) office and have a chat with them. I did both; both helped. Another thing you’ll probably due is attend too many DES sessions (tutored by students that are 4 months ahead of you), artificially boosting the confidence of said tutors until you cut back and find your rhythm. Best advice I received was 1) draw everything and 2) study with people smarter than you.
It’s going to be the first hard class of medical school, you will get through it, and look at it this way: by the final you will be able to write out all 208 bones of the human body on a table napkin and not bat an eyelash, and that’s what medical school is all about.
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My friends and I laugh at ourselves when we think back to undergraduate. Somehow, we were convinced that it was hard at the time. I remember talking to classmates after a test thinking, “Wow, I studied for six hours in the library for three straight days to prepare. I’m exhausted. I feel like I earned an A.” I wasn’t lying.
Well welcome to medical school. A friend of mine went out on a date with a med student who had to cut the date short so he could get back to the library, and he wasn’t blowing her off. I remember Uncle Neurophysiologist telling me that my life would be in a book, my weekends in a book, my nightlife in a book. I didn’t believe any of this. Well the rumors were true.
Medical school is the beginning of your life-long devotion to learning. You will spend the majority of your next two years (preclinical) in the library on a Friday night learning the morphological differences between Tropical Sprue and Whipple’s Disease. You will be a student of the 17th and 18th grades. And you had better be an expert at studying.
You will hear about the Cornell Method of note taking. You will flirt with concept mapping (CMap is the best program I’ve seen). You will swear by flash cards until the rubberband breaks sending your brain spilling across the floor. You will stick with the outline style of note-taking you learned in high school. You will see someone read the notes with a highlighter, achieve understanding, and then put it away until the test comes. You will hate that person. You will see someone that highlights too much, with too many colors, and has colored pens at the ready. You will see people with 3M sticky notes covering their cubicles, the organization making sense only to them. You will see people with too many other sources stacked around them, drowning in it.
Rarely will someone go to the student help center to learn about note taking styles and strategies. And that’s a shame. You’re going to study more and be tested more than any person that you know outside of this world. It makes too much sense to say that you should become an expert at what you do. So my advice to anyone in medical school or thinking about the plunge is to go to the bookstore, research studying methods, talk to an expert, and earn a black belt in note-jitsu. It’s going to be a long hard fight.
]]>EMS arrives within the platinum ten minutes to deliver care. They get him to a hospital, work on his leg and get all of his vitals straight back to normal. He dies anyway from respiratory failure. Working diagnosis should now be “tree allergy.”
Everyone in my class of 350+ has this case, and while all of us think we know why he died, none of us wants to prove it. No matter, because our professor reaches into a bag with 350+ names and pulls one unlucky bastard to the front: not me. You can smell the collective exhale of that many students while they cheer the lottery winner to the front. He rereads the packet to kill time, asnwers what he can while getting a few things wrong, and is appropriately nervous. People like him and empathize, so he gets to avoid the tough questions.
Afterward I run into a few AAA-types saying how they wish they’d been called and were thinking about volunteering for the next CPC. I hope they let you; it’ll be a blood-bath.
This is what I think about when I think of doing clinicals in a year. Lay low, have the right answer if they ask you, but don’t be a dick about it.
]]>Today on Graham Azon’s blog (over my med body) he posted a pdf about a woman with perfect autobiographical memory for the past 26 years. I clicked it open and saw that it was 15 pages long. Well, I’ll never get to know about that lady becuase I don’t have 15 pages of free time.
And that’s the way I look at books now. A 350pg book isn’t some amazing journey through the life of such n such; it’s 4 days of waste with a 3rd place ribbon on my test (C). Nope, I’ll never know what it’s like to fly kites in Afghanistan. Too bad. Instead I’m learning about Asthma.
Though flying a kite would hit the spot right about now.
]]>Why am I doing this? My friends back home are starting their jobs and making money and buying new things to make their apartments look nice so the people will want to sleep with them and I’m missing all of it. This is first year. It only gets harder. Why am I doing this? I could quit. I could quit right now and I’d only have $40,000 in debt to pay for my mistake. It might just be worth it. Maybe I should quit. Maybe this was a bad move.
And of course maybe it was a bad move for you. Maybe you shouldn’t be here and the smartest decision of your life would be leaving right now and cutting your losses. People stay though. They stay because they know a moron the year ahead of them, so figure it can’t be that bad if that guy made it. Some people stay because they don’t know what else they’d do with themselves. Some people stay because as much as it sucks, they can’t do anything else. The point is that the doubting doesn’t have to stop because you want it to.
I’m almost half way through 2nd year and I’m having a bad week. I don’t feel like I’m learning any of this Pathology and I’ve ignored Micro for three weeks now. It’s all going to catch up with me whether or not I catch up with it. And if I don’t suck it up and pull through then it’s going to sting real bad when I see my test. Feeling beat up and stupid is no fun, and it’s frequent enough that you often feel like quitting. But I remember exactly where I was standing on campus in first year where I had that important conversation with myself. And I remember my answer.
So I’m waiting for it to get better, plugging away while it isn’t and telling my problems to a stranger. All of it helps.
]]>
You’d think that at this point in our lives, as med students, that everyone would be comfortable with penises and vaginas. We are not. I remember as a first year in Anatomy lab there being seveal students that never laid a scalpel on the body and remained on the margins, their scrubs smelling just as bad as everyone else’s but missing the flecks of flesh. This would be laughable if it weren’t encouraged. Pick up a medical textbook and more often than not, instead of an anatomically correct drawing you get a Ken Doll, complete with nondescript genitalia and breasts that ride the border between overweight guy and underdeveloped girl.
So I was surprised today when I walked into Clinical Skills to see a video of a very curt Irish physician giving a full pelvic exam to a very hairy Jewish girl. I was more surprised than anyone, having heard so many stories about giving pelvic exams to manequins instead of prosititutes like the other medical schools get to do. I don’t know where I heard that, but I did.
So after a perfectly graphic demonstration of a female pelvic/anal/breast exam was an equally graphic male example. Checking for an inguinal hernia does not look fun.
“With your right index finger grab a section of free scrotal tissue and feed it up and into the inguinal ring, following the spermatic cord, where you may appreciate the internal inguinal ring.”
Now I applaud the folks that put the video together and the phsicians and patients that volunteered, but everything was still a little off. Hospital work, though repetitive and disgusting, does have a pot of gold at the end: you get comfortable. It took my around 11 months to get really comfortable to the point where I could talk to patients about their dying and regrets and family. Being able to speak frankly and honestly with a person that near death is special and should be mandatory. Imagine you’re dying slowly, having the chemo-book thrown at you, and everyone’s too busy being motivating and positive to say that, “Yeah, you’re dying. How do you feel about that? What are your biggest concerns and what do you want accomplished in the next few months?” Sure you throw a chaplain or two at them, but they aren’t part of the day to day care. That job should instead fall to the day-to-day staff: your oncologist and nurses and hell, even your techs.
My point about all this is that those physicians and patients were really off. The patients were too happy and compliant about their anuses and urethras and the physicians weren’t distracted enough. Your proctologist is bored with your anus. He’s seen thousands of them. Same goes for your OBGYN. The patients are not happy about your finger in their rectums. That hasn’t happened to them thousands of times and they want it to be over. They certainly don’t hop off the bed and shake your hand afterwards.
I’m not asking for much, just a doctor who’d prefer to do a quick exam and say your fine and a patient who can’t wait to hear it so that she can leave. They were all just too happy and it reminded me of the embarassed students in anatomy lab that didn’t want to see what a body really looked like, just like the video wasn’t showing us what a rectal exam is really like. I don’t blame the actors; I blame the director.
Soon, I hope, medical school will stop presenting the “Ken Doll” version of things and let Barbie know what she’s really in for.
]]>1) immaturity
2) poor scholastic performance in spite of the tools to excel
3) horrible recommendations from teachers aware of points 1 and 2.
Despite those failings, I was done with mediocrity and standing still in life. After graduating I tried to find work in the medical field for a better shot at a second application cycle. The job that I eventually landed was a Patient Care Tech. in a very fancy hospital. The requirements were that you have:
1) GED / High school diploma
2) no drugs in your urine
3) no criminal history
4) no better options
I didn’t even get this job cleanly, but instead with an inside man who knew my family and thought I was a good enough guy. It was one of those great times when someone in the position to help sees a little of himself in you. I was glad for it. I worked that job alongside full-time nursing students, grizzled nurses, and a revolving door of people that weren’t rejected early enough.
My life consisted of 12 to 16 hour shifts at night on a Hem/Onc ward. In case your curious, the nicest hospital floors are usually on top, except in the Onc building, where everyone is trying to work there way from the ICU on floor 9 to terminal Onc on 8 down to the lobby where people are smiling because they get to go home. I spent 13 months there learning to love patients and hate patients and become used to the worst juices of the body. Like most people seeing that world with fresh eyes, I have several anecdotes about life in Term Onc and I’ll write about them in time, whenever I have a slow day in the present. But we’re just getting introduced now.
After 13 months of working the same job on the same schedule with the same part of your brain asleep for all of it, you learn a better answer to any admissions question:
Interviewer: “Why do you want to be a doctor?”
You predictably answer: “I feel like each of us owes something to those most in need. I enjoy helping those that are sick and knowing that I have made a difference in their life.”
Interviewer: “F minus.”
Now let’s see what happens after hospital grizzling…
Interviewer: “Why do you want to be a doctor?”
You answer: “I used to think it was to help people, and that’s part of it, but if that’s all I wanted to do I’d be a nurse or a tech. I’m a smart person and I work well with stress and prefer it, and if I don’t end up in a field where I am being pushed to the point of a panic attack, then I just don’t want to do it. I am not going to end up as a computer being used as a doorstop. I had 13 months of that already and I just about lost my mind. I want to help people, but the best help I can give them is to go get some amazing training, study my ass off, and return a more capable physician. I’m not going to die happy having done anything less than that.”
After it all I was a better applicant with better recommendations but I still didn’t have the grades. Schools like to see trends. Straight Bs with straight As your last term is not a trend; it’s the picture perfect of someone who could have gotten As the whole time but has horrible foresight. Every school was right to pass again. I prepared for that to happen and had a few applications out to Caribbean schools. They all accepted and so I went with the “Harvard of the Caribbean.”
That’ where I am now. I’m a second year student so Anatomy, Biochem, Histo, Embryo, Parasit, Bioethics, Jurisprudence, Immunology, Genetics, and a few others are all behind me. I plan on saying a little here and there about them as I move forward, but trying to tackle all of that right now is a sure-fire way to fail at the rest of life.
So that’s our introduction. Nice to meet you.
]]>I’ve always wondered why police officers ask people in a sobriety test to say the alphabet, backwards. No one can do it, right? I think the trick is that only a person with impaired judgement would try to pull it off, so even if you go from Z to A flawlessly you’re going to jail. While I never plan on putting myself in that situation, I cannot deny that it is an attractive stupid human trick, which is why I was thrilled when Sherin asked me if I could do it the other day. She had no idea how seriously I was going to take it. She would say “Z”, then I would say “Y” and so on with a reset if either one of us missed our cue. Within two minutes Sherin didn’t want to play anymore as I started screaming, “F comes after L? Come on, you know this!” This is why I can’t play with others. The interesting thing is that you should be able to say the alphabet backwards faster than forwards. It has everything to do with the phonetic groupings. Everyone knows that LMNO rolls off the tongue like “elemeno”. But try this beaut on for size: VUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA
AB CD EFG HI JK LMNOP QR ST UV W X Y Z
ZYX W VUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA
See what I mean? You really have to slow down at the end if you’re going from A to Z. Don’t worry, when I get home we’ll race each other. If I knew how to record it and attach it to this email, well, you’d be listening to it.
So Sherin’s Mom and sister are in town, which means Sherin finally gets a new computer, which is a miracle considering her history. When she first came to GND she dropped her computer on the floor, cracking the screen. She made the call back home to beg for a new one and somehow “I dropped it and broke” turned into “It doesn’t work right because it has a virus I think.” Her father was nonplussed. A year and a half later and that fixed computer is failing with a 30 minute battery life and a broken touch-pad. So the last computer her father will ever buy her is in her mother’s luggage waiting in New York to board the plane when Sherin puts the laptop on a chair with the mouse inside. The details aren’t important as they implicate me, but suffice it say that Sherin sat on her laptop and cracked the screen. As with most things, I recognized the humor of the situation and started laughing immediately. Sherin had a panic attack thinking about the loss of her Father’s love. It balanced out.
The meeting of the mother and the sister (Tasha) went well enough. Tasha teaches the first grade and has great stories about children being children. My favorite was the book report about “Elaphits Gerald”. Her mother and sister being here is also a great opportunity to whip out my Sherin-impression. Judging by her scowl, I say it’s dead on. But more than anything, the best reason to ever meet the parents is for the treasure trove of “You sound just like your Mom,” “God, you sound just like your Mom!” and my personal favorite, “Whatever you say, Mrs. T.”
Working on being non-confrontational, topher.
]]>I am with half of my path group as we learn how to take vital signs, inspect the cervical lymph nodes, etc. I hopped onto a bench and volunteered to be the dummy patient for the instructor. She inspected my scalp (newly shorn), my throat (I shaved off my neck-beard for just this reason) and my mouth. Now it’s the group’s turn to mimic her. With anything like this, there’s about 10 minutes of awkwardness before everyone relaxes and I enjoyed every moment of it.
First, when asked to describe the findings of examination, my friend Peter was very uncomfortable mentioning my Male Pattern Baldness. He was also unsure if my skull was of normal shape and size. The tutor said that it was within normal limits, which is tact-speak for “you’re absolutely right.” A few minutes later, Scott is trying to see the back of my throat and is accusing me of having a tongue that is “too big for my mouth. No one can see past that thing.” When inspecting the ducts underneath my tongue, I am politely asked not to gleek on anyone. I do my best.
Eventually more members of the group volunteer to be patients. We use tongue depressors to move the cheeks and tongue around. Each patient is responsible for holding his/her own depressor so that cross-contamination doesn’t happen. It takes three minutes before Scott and Sam are making-out by proxy.
All in all, fantastic experience and my new favorite class.
I wrote a few days ago that the dodgeball tournament was coming. After some soul-searching, my roommates and I decided not to play. We’re growing up, and that means becoming very boring. Instead, I sat in the library on a Friday night while the entire campus was cheering drunk. In my defense, the time was put to good use. Because SGU is not a wealthy institution and has no history of research, resources are scarce. To get around this, Marios emails a friend of his at Harvard with a list of journal articles that we need. His friend takes a camera into the library and sends us pictures, page by page. I then have to remove the camera glare, rotate the pictures into frame, and remove every thumb with Photoshop before I can send it to our black and white printers. Even in academia, there are hand-me-downs.
So dodgeball didn’t happen, but golf did. The roomates had signed up as a team, and as any team we try to bring the ridiculous with us. If it’s Kelly and Winston wearing togas to announce the beginning of the winter Olympics to our class or dumpster-cardboard Halloween outfits, we try to come up with something. We were too busy this time, but figured the least any of us could do was stop shaving and play with mustaches. Yes, I know exactly how stupid that sounds. The mustache didn’t look that great, so I decided to take it a little further. Into my head.
The golf tournament was a complete success and very profitable. The highlights:
Riding the 7am bus through the hills of GND with people still out from the night before, letting their 80s costumes double as totally normal golf attire. Getting a chip-in-birdie on the first hole from 60 yards out. Hitting a great drive on the 6th only to watch a Grenadian caddy walk into the fairway and pocket the ball. Arriving moments later huffing from a beer-fueled tee box sprint to find that my ball was fine. Finishing 9 holes of “captain’s choice” golf +8. Shaving the rest of your head to look professional for your tutoring session to be told that you have a sunburn-negative and are not fooling anyone.
Addendum:
1) “gleeking” is when you press your tongue in such a way that you shoot jets of saliva from underneath. I have a talent for this, both voluntary and involuntary.
2) “make-out by proxy” Like sharing gum, what was in my mouth is in your mouth. Sam and Scott were inspected with the same tongue depressor.
3) Captain’s Choice golf means four people hit a drive and all take their second shot from the best drive, and the best chip, and so on.

01:02:03 on 04/05/06
Sherin says that this is special because it won’t happen again until 2106. I say it isn’t special because it will happen again at 02:03:04 on 05/06/07, and so on, until 09:10:11 on 12/13/2014 when we run out of conveniently numbered months.
Sherin says that, “No, it only counts if it starts with the number 01.”
To which I retort, “A straight is a straight! It’s the same thing!”
“No, you don’t start counting at 02, you start counting at 01.”
“You can start counting anywhere, so long as it’s a sequence with regular intervals!”
“TOPHER! A number line starts at 01! Not at 02, 01!”
“SHERIN! NUMBER LINES DON”T START ANYWHERE! IT’S INFINITY AND BACK BOTH WAYS!”
Sherin wonders why I have to argue about everything. I argue that I don’t have to argue about everything, proving her point.
So I haven’t written in over a month and with good reason. I’ve been busy. For the first time I feel like a real grad student. Ana, when I see you again, I’m buying us beers and you must join me in a heavy sigh.
Pathology swallowed us hole and I haven’t handled it with any grace. In one week, the Board of the research society held elections, passed off any and all responsibility for training our replacements and the planning of the golf tournament. We must have thought we were saving time. Haste.
What happened, of course, was a President that was all show and no work, an alienated Board, a collapse of communication within the club, a huge drop in club morale, and a pending disaster on the golf course. Waste.
So to correct this we recruited our faculty advisor, Marios, to tear apart and emasculate Napoleon to the point where he can make no decision outside of Board approval. The previous President is now present for any and all meetings to report back to Marios and to keep Napoleon honest. Second, I started talking to the brave students that decided to make the golf tournament work. They were very excited to have made a brochure for golf. It was tri-fold, double-sided, and everything. It talked about how great the tournament was going to be and when it was going to be and a place for you to write your teammates. I found out about this the day they started handing them out so grabbed one. Here’s what it was missing:
Cost
What was included in the cost
Contact information
Registration information
Dates
Transportation
But it was cool-looking. I’ll give them that.
So I wrote them an email detailing what changes had to be made to the brochure before they could distribute it. On second thought, I wondered how the actual tournament planning was going. So I wrote a second, more epic, email that took a player through the day of the tournament, pointing out everything that had to be handled before during and after the tournament for it to work. It was about 1000 words. To be tactful, I signed off:
“I’m sure you guys have thought of most of this already, I just wanted to make sure.”
The guy running the tournament saw me later that night. He was ashen.
“We hadn’t thought of any of that.”
“Well, you realize that all that stuff has to happen, right? The tournament doesn’t just throw itself, right?”
“Now I do.”
All of this is superimposed on Pathology and Microbiology, mind you. Once again, medical school has managed to be more work this term than the last, than the last, than the last. I bet next term is easier.
My Path group is made of 10 other people, all friends, and I hate it. I get three or four pictures of a disease. In the stomach, eyeball, head, leg, etc. I have to go look up that disease, know as much as I can, and then teach it to the rest of the group. I get to do all of this in front of an tutor (MD) who wants nothing more than to remind me that I am not an MD, but an idiot. Whenever I get anything wrong, or omit an important piece of information, the tutor calls me on it, and I promptly embarrass myself by stumbling through nonsense in a squeaky, pleading voice.
WRONG.
I just earned my group a ten minute exposition on the disease. Had I known my material and answered the tutors questions correctly we could move on and finish the 40 slides that are due this week. Instead, we have to come in on our days off. SO the extension of this is:
If a person in my lab doesn’t completely prepare, I don’t learn the disease and have to look it up on my own AND come in on my days off to finish the remaining slides. So naturally, I cringe every time someone is presenting and I can hear a quiver in their voice, because the tutors can hear that quiver and it’s like crack to them. And the entire time the tutor is speaking slowly to us (because we are idiots) I can feel my rage replacing my friendship with this person.
So 1-3pm, every day, is a stressful time in my life.
Luckily, my group has a sense of humor about it. We have two awards. The first is a statue of a woman in the throws of passion riding a crescent moon. The second is a sheet of xmas stickers. Brilliant comment of the day or best performance earns you the statue; and the biggest idiot gets a sticker on their books. I’m happy to report that I have dodged the stickers so far and have taken the trophy home twice.
It’s important that I keep my blood pressure under control, and I do give myself breaks now and again. A few weeks ago the 42nd Airborne division came to GND for disaster preparedness exercises. They were traveling between the islands setting up emergency clinics and treating everyone for free. They were nice enough to accept student volunteers and I jumped at the chance. For the first time, I was on a boat traveling through the Caribbean islands. We got off at Petite Martinique, marched the supplies down the road from the dock to an abandoned building where 200 people sat, blocking every entrance and exit, waiting for us. There were two minutes of confusion before someone started barking orders and everyone else started following. Bless the military for their chain of command.
I ended up in triage, asking little boys and girls why they felt sick. They would look puzzled, stare at their mothers, and then remember that their stomach was hurting them and their eyes were scratchy. No matter how many times I tried to tell the mother’s that it was ok to say “check-up,” they insisted that their children were very sick. We developed a code with the physicians:
“abd pain” means check up
“loss of appetite” means check up
“itchy eyes” means check up
The physicians had their own code:
“Here’s some medicine” means “I bet you have thin blood, here’s some iron.”
Everyone was treated for thin blood. It’s the carpal tunnel of free clinics.
Later I went to the General Practitioner and saw five patients before we had to pack it up and head back to GND. The highlight was an old woman who came in with “a stomach ache.” She had a strong heart murmur, hypertension, swollen legs and abdominal pain. I’m still teaching Neuro and Physio, so I knew this woman’s pathology pretty well and was able to talk to the physician about everything I found during her workup. She listened to all of this but didn’t catch any of it because of all the jargon involved. I became excited that I knew what was going on with this woman and she heard it in my voice. She smiled and asked what we were talking about. The doctor looked at her and said that we had medicine that might make her feel better and we would make sure she saw a heart doctor that week.
I’m not sure how to describe the feeling you get when you’re excited about someone’s congestive heart disease, but I hope no one reading this ever gets to go through it.
Another great distraction was my roommate’s parents coming into town. Sam’s father is a Cardiothoracic surgeon, and every year or so he and his surgeon friends travel to a different vacation spot for a week with their wives. They came to GND and decided to cook for us every other night, entertain us with stories from their careers, and explain to us why surgery was the worst profession to get into and why surgeons hated their jobs. So it’s official: I have yet to discover a single medical discipline where the people practicing it would recommend it before panning it. It’s a bright bright future.
They great thing to come of it was having Sam’s father look over the paper I had written, tear it apart, and make suggestions that helped turn it into the type of paper that could be submitted to a surgical journal. With those changes, I rewrote most of it over a weekend and submitted it with Marios to the Annals of Thoracic Surgery. Fingers crossed, everybody.
Back to school…
So two weeks before the Path exam the usual library bunker shenanigans started, complete with room-squatting and hurt feelings. While I was busy trying to learn the minutia of every disease and the names of every translocated proto-oncogene, the Path department was busy writing a painfully simple exam, with just the type of big-picture concepts and plainly-stated questions that you dream about. I can solve a problem in calculus but I can’t tell you what a number is. They wanted me to define a number. I did not do well.
I stayed to check my grade which was a mistake that cost me a day of studying to self-pity. That left three days till the Microbiology midterm. While Micro is 5 credits (making it of equal weight to Neuro or Physio from last term) it pales against Path’s 13 credits. So we ignore it much like we ignored Embryo in first term. Sure enough, I barely know the material, cram and cram and cram, and leave with an A. So add bacteria and viruses to the list of things that I don’t have to understand at all. They can keep the fetuses company.
So with Micro and Path behind me, I have this weekend to enjoy the dodgeball tournament on Friday and the golf tournament on Sunday. I’ll be wearing a mustache to both.
Cheers, and thanks for waiting. topher.
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Welcome to Grenada.
First off, you probably do not know how lucky you are. The surprise for each new student is how beautiful Grenada is and how anyone could keep their sanity studying in any other place. What follows is a guide to your classes and a glimpse into what your life is going to be like in Grenada. A small disclaimer: I am a white American male twenty-something who had never left the US before coming to Grenada. It is very possible that certain aspects of Grenadian life specific to women are undereported. I apologize. Now let us get started.
ARRIVING
It is GrenEHda, not GrenAHda. Pronouncing it correctly is a big deal. Grenada was described to me as a third world country before I came and this will not be your experience. Your time on campus will be indistinguishable from any university in the US; your dorm life will be no different than your undergraduate experience. Everyone uses the bus or drives a car. You will have your Subway, your TCBY Treats, movie theaters, malls, grocery stores, hardware stores, school supplies, bars and clubs. You probably will not be able to find the laundry detergent you like or fresh milk, but these are small things. Anyone who says you will be “roughing it” is lying to you.
***That being said, a few people each year have a hard time adjusting. Some have dietary concerns (it is not hard to be a vegetarian; it is hard to be a vegan). Some get very homesick or cannot adjust to Grenada’s culture. The pace here is very slow. ***
The very first mistake people make when traveling to Grenada is NOT taking a layover. Often times the airlines will overbook a connecting flight from Puerto Rico to Grenada and ask that passengers volunteer to take a later flight, often the next day. TAKE IT! You will be put up in a hotel, given miles for a flight in the future, and have a chance to enjoy another island carefree.
Many students have questions about how much their luggage can weigh. American Airlines (in my experience) will tell you to bring no more than two pieces of luggage weighing 50 lbs. each and one carry-on weighing no more than 40 lbs. The problem is that your connecting flight to Grenada may only allow ONE 50 lb. piece of checked luggage and will charge you an arm and a leg to bring the other, or flatly refuse. Call ahead and make absolutely certain with an airline official that your luggage will make it to Grenada, and then get that persons’ phone number.
You will likely spend your first night in Grenada without your entire luggage. This is not a big deal. The airline will give you a number to call and you will have your luggage within a day or two. Try to come to the island early so you can take full advantage of Orientation week. It is nice to have that time for settling in, to speak nothing of all of the trips around the island that are provided.
Grenada’s weather has two settings: downpour and blindingly sunny, so come to the island wearing a rain jacket over a bathing suit. Grenada is likely hotter than you are used to. During those first few days, you will break a sweat from standing, lose weight, and drink water like breathing air. You will see students going to class wearing jeans and long sleeved shirts and wonder what is wrong with them. Just know that your body is getting used to the island; it takes about a month.
WHAT DOES IT LOOK LIKE?
It’s amazing how a few photographs taken by students can add some perspective to the place. Go to Flickr and search for SGU. It says something that the students love the school enough to put all of this together themselves. My favortite albums are shot by Josh and Felix.
PHONE SECTION
No one gets a landline and you should not bring a cordless phone with you. So that means you are buying a cell phone. Since you are now going to travel from the mainland to Grenada and St. Vincent’s (and possibly Prague) you probably want a phone that can work in all areas. For this, you need to buy a Quad-Band GSM phone. There are two main companies that offer GSM service in the USA. AT&T and Cingular are now merged into one company, and the second company is T-Mobile. So here’s what you do:
1) buy a Quad-Band GSM phone from one of these companies
2) make sure that it is a pay-as-you-go phone with a SIM card
3) go to this website and pay for your phone to be unlocked
I’ll explain all of that:
There are four major broadcasting systems used throughout the world. So a Quad-Band phone means that you’ll never have to buy a new phone for travel. The SIM card is a chip that contains your phone number and your contacts. Put another way, it does not matter from what phone you call: if you put your SIM card in any phone the person you are calling will see that it is you. So if you buy a SIM Quad-Band phone at home, you will have a SIM card with your home’s area code. When you come to Grenada, you will buy another SIM card with a Grenadian number. At this point, you can simply switch the SIM cards while you’re one the islands and then switch them back when you return home. Taping them into your passport is a nice way to keep track of them when not in use.
The reason you have to “unlock” your phone is so that your T-Mobile phone (for example) will operate with a Digicel SIM card from Grenada (for example). Pay-as-you-go means that if you want to talk for ten minutes, you buy ten minutes. If you talk over that, the phone simply cuts off (after a warning of course). This means that you cannot possibly suffer overage charges and you don’t get roped into a contract. And why do you have to pay to unlock your phone? Because T-mobile doesn’t want you to buy there phone and then use it with an AT&T SIM card. T-mobile wants your money. Typically, these companies will unlock your phone for free if you’ve owned it for three months, but if you’re reading this now that’s a bit of late notice. So pay to have it unlocked from a separate code vendor and you should be set.
Some students make use of internet phones as well. There are several programs that allow you to make phone calls over the internet for pennies a minute to anywhere in the world. Skype, Netphone, and PCPhone are popular programs and only require a headset with microphone.
MONEY
For the next few years you will be using Eastern Caribbean currency, or ECs. The conversion rate is easy.
$100 = 260 EC. (exact ratio is 1/2.67, but we will keep the math easy and lose the pennies)
100 EC = $40.
Ex.
I have $25 in my pocket. 25 x 2 = 50. 25 x 0.6 = 15. 50 + 15 = 65 EC
A three ring binder is 35 EC. 35 x 4 = 150. 150 / 10 = $15 (binders ARE this expensive)
There are banks on the island and no need to ever use them. You can pull EC from your US account at any ATM on the island with a VISA/MasterCard debit card (sorry American Express and Discover). Some credit card companies charge a higher rate for foreign conversions, so check yours. The ATM charge is $1.50 and the conversion rate is standard. If you have a refund check coming to you, I suggest having the school send it home and having family/friends deposit it. You will need to leave deposit slips back home. Do not forget to leave deposit slips back home. However, if you want to pay for things by check, you will have to open an account with a local bank or have traveler’s checks at the ready.
How much EC will you spend a day?
Depends. EC is pretty, looks like Monopoly money and you will spend it as such. Breakfast of eggs and toast is 7 EC, lunch is around 15 EC, and dinner can be up to 20 EC. That comes to 42 EC/$17 a day, eating out every meal. It sounds expensive but few people can pull off three meals a day. Most have one full meal and fill the rest with coffee and snacks. You will find your own happy middle. Remember that if you cook and buy your own groceries, you will save quite a bit.
If you drink anything other than water, you are in for a shock. Name brands like Coke, Starbucks and Arizona drinks cost three to four times what they do in the states. That being said, some people still manage to spend a great deal of money on water. Bottled water is sold everywhere on the island and is more expensive than beer. Some students buy a bottle every day. Others (and I recommend doing this) buy one bottle and refill it at dinking fountains on campus. All of the water on campus is filtered; this is not the case elsewhere on the island. I for one have had the same bottle for a month now and may have saved as much as one million dollars. Cigarettes are no more expensive than you are used to, but you should quit anyway.
WHAT WILL EACH DAY BE LIKE?
I get up every morning around 7am and check the class schedule. Typically only two courses are taught a day with each getting two hours of lecture time. On some days you will have Anatomy lab that can begin at 8 or 9am and lasts for three hours, or you have Histology lab at 8 or 10am that lasts for two hours. Lectures begin at 1pm each day and last till 5pm. You do not need to bring much to campus. I usually put my laptop, water bottle, two three ring binders and two textbooks into my backpack and grab the bus.
Eating on campus is not hard though students do complain about the selection. At the top of the hill (you will know it well) there are vendors selling fresh fruits and the Patels selling homemade Indian food. Halfway down campus is the Student’s Center which has two restaurants (Glover’s and Pearl’s) along with a convenience store. At the base of campus is the Sugar Shack. You will not go hungry.
Time before and after lecture is often spent in the library. The library has wireless internet and so should your computer (the “Computing at SGU” section of the SGU website does a good job of preparing you). During peak hours it can be difficult to get a strong connection (bringing an Ethernet cable is a bad move, as many of the plugs on campus work sporadically). The wireless network extends throughout campus into the lecture halls (you can follow lectures online or check email during breaks), across to the bus stop and down to the Student Area (where the gym and restaurants are located). Some students are able to get a connection in their rooms as well. If you live off campus in Grand Anse dorms there is a study room with a wireless connection. High-speed internet is available in off-campus apartments through a contract with Cable & Wireless.
SCHOOL CULTURE
During your first two weeks here you have carte blanche to introduce yourself to as many people as you wish. Your class will probably go out each night that first week and I recommend you go each time. The first week does not contain difficult material and you will not have another chance like it. After this grace period the classes pick up a bit, people fall into routines and your opportunities to meet every member of your class will start to drop off.
SGU operates by four-month-long terms. This tricks you into thinking that each term is a year long and that people in second, third and fourth term are somehow separated from you. This is of course nonsense. The uppertermers will have advice for you on every class and most of it should be ignored. Instead, find a good DES tutor, give yourself a few weeks, and then start making judgments on how to handle your course load. Everyone should go to the Department of Educational Services (DES) office and take a look at all of their handouts on studying, test-taking strategies, and review sessions. It is a goldmine of helpful information.
***I am aware of the irony that, as an uppertermer, I am writing this letter of advice.***
ISLAND CULTURE
English is the language spoken in Grenada. In the school guide, they describe it as a “slightly lilting Caribbean accent”. I disagree. Those Grenadians that work with the university, or in another position that requires constant exposure to tourists and students, are easy to understand. Those that have very little exposure to foreigners can be near unintelligible, but once you have an idea for what someone is trying to say, everything seems much clearer. It is not unlike listening to lyrics from a difficult song after you have already read them in the CD jacket.
If you have a healthy sense of humor, the stressful things about Grenada can be hilarious. First off, if you go to a restaurant and read the menu, do not kid yourself and think that what is on the menu is available. The menu is instead a list of things that were once available and may be available in the future. This is due either to a lack of ingredients, the staff is too busy to make your order, or the staff does not care to make your order. So order something else with a smile.
Second, if you order a drink at a US bar and it takes more than a few moments, it is often because the place is very busy and the bar is understaffed. If you order a drink in a Grenadian bar on a dead night when you are the only customer, it will take even longer. This is not because the bartender is trying to piss you off or ruin your whole day as some dramatics will say, it is instead because the island is a slow place and you need to get used to it. That Grenadian bartender could turn to you and ask, “What’s your hurry anyway?” Try to remember that there is no hurry and life will be a lot easier on you.
SPORTS
SGU has a healthy intramural sports program. Basketball and Football (soccer to some) are the major sports (bring cleats and guards, balls are provided). Hockey is also big (played on the basketball courts, sticks and nets provided). Rounding out the selection we have Ultimate Frisbee, Dance Classes, Yoga, and Dodgeball. I have yet to see a single person play tennis (I have not even seen courts) or cricket.
WET AND DRY SEASON
The wet season is very wet and runs from August to December. It can rain for days on end. If you bring an umbrella, make sure it is the type that opens to form a complete sphere around you, because the rain falls sideways. Honestly, go to a camping store and get a waterproof cover for your backpack, a light waterproof jacket and a shamie. You will be the envy of everyone. Another thing to consider is the mosquitoes. The breeding ground for mosquitoes is standing water, and there will be a lot of it. Invest in a mesh tent for your bed and screens for your windows (only applicable if living off campus). Want to know a fun trick? Instead of a mesh net, get a standing oscillating fan. If you go to sleep with it by your head, the mosquitos get sucked into the back of it and murdered. You get to wake up the next morning with a pile of them on the ground. Good times.
There is little rain in the dry season which runs from January till June. It is the best time to be on the island and enjoy everything that it has to offer. Go to the beach, learn to kite surf, bring your surf board, or rent a jet ski. Head to the capital and learn how to haggle in the market. Most of all, remember to get a tan so that people believe you when you say that you go to school on a tropical island.
GENERAL ADVICE
1. If you are buying a computer for school, make sure that it is light, portable and has a long-lasting battery.
2. Do not get a car your first term. You first term will be spent in campus housing and the bus schedule is more than adequate. A car is a luxury.
3. Sometimes the buses can get crowded. I suggest you say goodbye to personal space.
4. About a month into the term, Prof. Goodmurphy of the Anatomy Dept. will give a note-taking lecture that is invaluable and will change the way you and your class study. Do not miss it.
5. I have yet to use a single battery.
6. You can talk to prospective and current SGU students at ValueMD.com. Most posts receive a prompt reply.
7. If you get onto a Reggae bus and want to get out at your stop, tap the metal ceiling.
WHAT TO BRING
***This is not meant to be comprehensive by any means, but instead a few things that really would have helped me. ***
Binders are expensive on the island and worth the space in your luggage to bring a few. Anatomy gives you a binder so you should only need to bring three of your own. Multicolored highlighters are invaluable when reading biochemistry and hard to find on the island. I wish I had brought more. I also wish I had brought dry erase markers. Do not bring floppy disks and blank CDs, hardly anyone uses them. Instead BRING A FLASH DRIVE. Students share all of their files and useful programs with each other via flash drives or iPods. With exception to the iPod Mini and iPod Shuffle, iPods are actually much better than flash drives. They can play music, store 20+ Gigabytes of information in any form, and are far and away worth your investment.
As for your course books, the school supplies you with them the first week you are here. They are stored at the base of campus and are heavy. I would recommend picking them up in an empty piece of wheeled-luggage. Opinion varies in the upper terms as to which textbooks are useful and which never left their shrink wrap. Take advantage of your Footsteps Buddy and try to figure out which books will be most helpful for you. That said, there are some books that most people wish they had. Check the First-termer section.
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Your first term classes:
ANATOMY
You are given a binder that contains, in order, every lecture for the term. This is useful for both following lecture and adding your own notes in the margin. You are given an Anatomy Atlas by Netter that contains oil paintings of every structure in the body with labels. You also receive Essential Clinical Anatomy by Moore which is the closest thing you will have to a text book. How helpful people found these texts is based more on individual learning styles than the actual content of the book. There are two books which nearly everyone found helpful that the campus bookstore does not always carry:
The Color Atlas of Anatomy by Rohen (ISBN# 0683304925)
An invaluable companion to the lab portion of your class, this book contains pictures of perfectly dissected cadavers to help in your ability to identify structures both in lab and on exams. This is best used in conjunction with your Netter Atlas.
Gross Anatomy by Chung (ISBN# 0683307274)
Part of the Board Review Series (BRS) collection, this book covers the material stressed on the USMLE Step 1, offers tables and clinical explanations that can save you hours in the library, and has hundreds of clinical questions that help you to prepare for your exams.
BIOCHEMISTRY
To date, the biochemistry department gives lecture handouts to the class two to three days before each specific lecture. These handouts reflect the stress and focus that each professor will give to the material. To fill in any gaps and round out your understanding, two textbooks are given. Lipincott’s Illustrated Biochemistry is an excellent textbook that closely follows the scope of the class. The other text, Mark’s Basic Medical Biochemistry, aims to tie everything that you will earn into clinical vignettes with patients like Al Martini the alcoholic.
You will kick yourself if you do not also purchase the Biochemistry BRS book (ISBN# 0683304917). It is written by, get this, Dr. Mark’s wife: Dr. Mark. She goes through her husband’s text, pulls the pertinent illustrations, and puts all of the information into a bare-bones linear style that makes learning the material laughably simple. Because of this, you could make the case that you do not need the full Marks text if you are going to buy the BRS book. Once again, the school bookstore does not always carry this title, so I suggest bringing it to the island.
HISTOLOGY
The Histology faculty has the best companion of all of your classes. It is so comprehensive as to be considered its own textbook. You will also have access to a free program called HistoTime. HistoTime consists of short histology lessons followed by hundreds of slides to help you recognize each specific tissue type. This program along with the companion is all that you need to do well in the course and walk away with an understanding of histology. That said, some students found the two textbooks required for the class (Color Atlas of Histology by Gartner and Basic Histology by Junqueira) to be helpful.
EMBRYOLOGY
The embryology course is changing faculty so I cannot guarantee that anything I am about to type is accurate. Embryology operates from a single textbook and a course companion. Some students complain that the course companion is hard to follow and is poorly written. While this is not altogether untrue, it is more accurate to say that Embryology is a difficult course of study in the first place and there are few things that could make it easy to follow and understand. One text that does a fair job of making the course manageable is the Embryology BRS book (ISBN #0683302728). Once again, the school bookstore may not carry this title, and I would suggest bringing it with you to the island.
I disagree. Your score on this exam ranks you against your class. You’ll get a letter in the mail telling you your rank, your Z score, the mean and a breakdown of how you did in every section on external and internal questions. If you’re serious about doing well on the USMLE, I don’t know why you wouldn’t take advantage of this test. Normally you have to pay Kaplan to tell you your weaknesses; the school is offering it for free. The school maintains that your rank is kept in house and does not make it onto your transcript. I haven’t graduated yet so can’t verify this. Students maintain that part of the decision-making when it comes to your hospital placement in 3rd and 4th year has to do with your rank, everything else being equal.
Moral of the story: doing well can’t possibly hurt you, and doing poorly can’t possibly help you. I for one was open to the possibilities, so tried to do my best. The best way you could possibly prepare (for the BSCE or USMLE) is to teach it. If you pulled a B or better in Anatomy, Biochem, Histo or Embryo then tutor the class. It takes two hours out of your week every week and it’s a great review that your classmates aren’t getting. And don’t let fourth term scare you too much: my roommate and I team-taught Physio and Neuro and it was fine. We even had fun doing it.
So good luck and enjoy your summer.
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Go to Prague! As a January student, I went after my first term and knew nothing. Enjoyed the hell out of it. If you start in January and wait till the end of 4th term (2nd year) to go, you’ll be squeezing the dates a little close together. I recommend as a freshman. If you’re an August student, you get one crack at it: after 2nd term. This is probably the perfect time to go.
**The Official Prague Selective website is run by Martin Stransky**
Get your friends together and rent a cheap apartment or stay in a 4-bed hostel suite. You chose your own level of grit. If you’re a vegetarian, eat a face. If you’re a recovering alcoholic, relapse. Prague is beer and meat and beautiful people and you shouldn’t miss any of it.
Before you head over, go online and buy the DK Publishing Top 10 Eyewitness Guide to Prague. I lived by this book and it did not disappoint. Useful Czech phrases in the back. Also, don’t ever call it “Czechoslovakia.” The Czech Republic and Slovakia are quite separate now.
The set up of your selective is simple: Once a week you meet as a class with Dr. Stransky (the guy throwing this party) above Club N11. Besides being a big deal in Prague, he said one of my favorite things: “In life, it’s good to be best, but it’s better to be first.” He owns the club N11 and will host a part there pretty early into the selective. As I remember, the first day you meet Dr. Stransky, learn about the program and what your rotations are going to be. Wear professional clothes. For guys this means shirt and tie. Do not be the guy with tennis shoes, an untucked shirt and a poorly-knotted tie. Ladies, wear comfortable shoes and a nice dress or skirt. Once you have your assignment, you meet in front of the N11 club with a bunch of other students, and someone working for Dr. Stransky takes your group onto the metro system for your destination. Remember it, because you’ll have to do it yourself every day after. Your destination will change every week, so you’ll repeat this process every Monday morning. Some people start rotations at 8:00am, some at 9:30. Everyone checks out by 5:00.
Each rotation at each hospital is different. For example, my Neuro rotation consisted of locking us in a room and letting a tape play (half the time), talking with Czech medical students so that they could practice their English (1/4th the time) and seeing a bunch of really interesting cases for the rest of it. If you understand 1 and 1/2 syndrome and the workings of nystagmus, you’re golden. My Cardio rotation consisted of puting on a heavy-ass vest and standing in the room while the doctors snaked line up everyone’s femoral artery into the heart. We watched all of it on angiogram. It was great, except for the vest and the revolving door nature of it all. My Orthopedic surgery rotation was my favorite. The doctors and nurses do not care what you do, so long as you don’t hurt anybody. You change into their scrubs and gowns (their locker room) and just pick a surgery. Axilla surgery in room 1, hip replacement in room 2, and so on. I went to see a hip replacement and got blood all over me, which was AWESOME! Loved that rotation. At the end of the week you meet up above N11 with Dr. Stransky, see a patient, and talk about the week. Wash Rinse Repeat.
You’re in Europe, the center of it, so you’ll want to travel. I know people that made it out of Prague to go to Germany, Italy, what have you. It’s hard though. You have to be at the hospitals on Monday and Friday. Once you factor in the time of transit to and from another country, you are really cutting things close to say nothing of a slow train or a broken one. To get the credit for the class, you have to have perfect attendance. That said, some of the doctors will sign your sheet for the week regardless of your attendance and I don’t know of anyone that did the selective and didn’t get credit. So who knows. Travel at your own peril I guess.
The weather in Prague swings. Bringing nothing but summer clothes with something nice for the hospital is not going to cut it. Bring a sweater, a jacket, something. Also, it rains in Prague. Don’t be that wet guy without a raincoat.
Speaking of clothing, you should probably buy the greatest pair of shoes on the planet before getting on that plane. Everyone wonders why the people in Europe are so skinny? Not me. They walk everywhere, never stopping, always walking. So if you buy a pair of shoes that pinches your toe or drags on your heal ever so slightly, that’ll be a gapping hole bleeding through your socks by the end of the third day. And since you’re walking everywhere all the time, it will NEVER have a chance to heal. So just avoid that whole mess and buy yourself something nice.
The nightlife is great. Try to avoid the comfort of your two favorite clubs every night and see as much as you can. Joe’s Cafe was a great one, and no trip to Prague can possibly be complete without a few trips to the Duplex. Enjoy the dancers and the air horn.
All in all, I hope you really enjoy Prague. Their subway system is larger than anything I’ve ever seen, and you’ll have a great time getting lost even though their are only three subway lines. Every set of directions you’ll ever give will be in terms of Tesco. It will take you a week to discover Andel. You’ll buy a bottle of water, take one sip and spit it out, and forever after ask for “Voda, neperlive.” (Voh-dah, nay-per-leh-veh) Make sure you’re friends with someone who takes a lot of pictures; you’d be surprised how quickly you forget how great it was.
I wrote home when I was there, and I’ve included those posts. If you have any questions, please post them and I’ll add where it’s empty.
]]>Well known fact: I was destined to screw this up. A lot. I’ll spare you the gore and give you the highlights:
1) Girls like to celebrate holidays that THEY SAY are stupid.
2) If you’re at a restaurant and hear that the specials are Seared Tuna Steak, Calaloo Soup, and Dolphin, do not ask if the tuna is dolphin-safe, because the waitress doesn’t laugh.
3) Dinner > gift > card, unless you forgot to get a card, in which case: You > Ass.
I WENT SURFING! It sucks! First, you have to lie flat against your board with your feet dragging behind as you inhale seawater. The normal motion of swimming only throws you off balance so you end up falling off two strokes after getting on. And of course some jackass is making it look easy and being helpful. After all that work of going nowhere, you get to sit. Only I can’t sit and end up falling off again. The paddling leaves you exhausted, so the last thing you want to do is actually CATCH a wave and have to swim back out. So while my friends caught a few waves, I was laying down on my board getting sunburned. Finally, Bamboo and Pi timed a wave for me and sent me paddling. Sure enough, I caught a little 6’er, fell down the surface, stood up, then started doing tons of gnarly tricks all over the place. Really, I closed my eyes until I was safe underwater. Halfway back to the shore, I decided I’d had enough bleeding nipples for one day. I started paddling and another wave picked me up! So I closed my eyes AGAIN. It was nice enough to take me to the shore and I was done with surfing. I spent the rest of the time making a big fire and throwing coconuts at other coconuts. Nothing fell.
This was all done in celebration of the end of third term and my first finished research paper. I am quite tired of the accessory phrenic nerve. In the interim before fourth term really began I was swallowed by IEA. Since I finally have a high enough GPA, I’m in the school’s honor society. This means attending an induction ceremony trashed off free drinks and laughing as the president of the club gives a speech that went something like this:
PLATITUDE. PLATITUDE. (checks cue cards, remembers) PLATITUDE.
I also got a nice certificate which I have saved for you, Mom.
The way IEA justifies itself is by actually helping students. They compose Mock Biochemistry exams from questions submitted by members and hold a Mock Anatomy Practical. My friends Adam (see Prague) and Max asked me to help set the thing up. We moved the bodies around, came up with impossible questions to scare the crap out of the first-termers, and then went to a bar to drink while writing out the Qs and As. My favorite was a tagged tendon, clearly coming from the belly of a muscle, and the questions was, “What does the tagged structure innervate?” The Answer, “Nothing. It’s a tendon.” I think that question will be on the test.
For my birthday, Sherin bought me a nice watch. It’s too tight and pinches my wrist, but I wear it anyway because I’ve been to lazy to get the extra links inserted. Well, that ended once I started getting carpel tunnel syndrome in my left wrist which I can now diagnose thanks to the efforts of me Uncle Laurence. Thanks, Uncle Laurence. So for Sherin’s birthday, I thought I would replace the battery in her watch (died earlier in the term) and fix my own. Sure enough, not a single jewelery store in Grenada has the materials to maintain the things THAT THEY SELL. I ended up going to a lingerie store that also deals in knock-offs. I gave him my watch first. He tried to knock the pins out the wrong end, which I could forgive, if there wasn’t an arrow pointing in the right direction. So I took his tools from him, fixed my watch and left before either of us could damage Sherin’s.
This February is the first time that Sherin has had a birthday without her parents coming to visit, which upsets her. Also, many of her friends left GND last term and are now in St. Vincent’s, which upsets her. Now, in the hands of a capable boyfriend, she might look forward to her birthday knowing that he would make it alright. In my case, the birthday was cancelled a week in advance. “Topher, I do not want you to do anything. I’m serious. This isn’t like Valentine’s Day where I said I didn’t want to but I did. If you throw a party or anything, I will not talk to you for a month. DO NOT DO IT.”
At this point in the relationship, I don’t believe a word Sherin says.
So after class at 3pm, I called her favorite restaurant and ordered a meal to go, went to the mall to buy plates, streamers, balloons, wrapping paper, construction paper, and anything else I thought my roommates could use, picked up the food and stowed it away, picked up Sherin, stole her key and left it at the drop point. I took her away to make-out point for a nice picnic complete with wine and desert. Back at her apartment, my roommates let themselves in and started making a mess of the place. After the sunset and coffee, I brought her back to a surprise party and a happy birthday.
What did I take away from all of this?
1) I bought four birthday cards
2) I didn’t listen to a word she said
3) So long as she has a story to tell her girlfriends, you’re golden.
It is hard to find time for classes between writing papers, dissecting, running a club and organizing fundraisers. I pop in for the occasional lecture to catch gems like “Before 1841, the only psychiatric diagnosis was ‘idiocy'”. That tickled me.
Speaking of idiocy, my birthday came and went on the 30th. For dinner, I requested Green Eggs & Ham. Sherin made the mistake of putting me in charge of coloring the eggs and I promptly added half a bottle of food coloring to 20 eggs that could have used three drops. It tasted fine, even if it looked like antifreeze.
The Super Bowl came and went with a bang in Grenada. I decided that I was going to wager on the game as a show of support for my friends in Pittsburgh. The day of the game, I was online opening an account. The whole process went smoothly until it came time to enter my banking information. It turns out that my US Bank account had been registered to some other account. Alarmed, I called the states to find out that I had opened an account with this company back in 2003 when I was a student at John Carroll. Near as I can tell, I opened the account after some heavy drinking, placed a bet, and lost all memory of it. The account was carrying $400.
Now, I took Economics at my alma mater, and I know that found money is free money, so I wagered the lot on Pittsburgh. I also threw up in my mouth a few times. All my roommates knew about my wager and gathered at Sherin’s to watch the game. She was the only one out of the loop and COULD NOT understand why I all of a sudden cared about any sport. She also felt the celebration amongst my roommates was a little out of proportion. Who cares, I’m rich.
My karma balanced that night with food poisoning that has lasted a week and counting. Feeling that sick is no fun in the WetLab. That place is something else. It smells awful. Worse than it ever has. The companies that preserve these bodies are using some stronger version of formalin that gives everyone runny noses and crying eyes. We’ve spent 40 hours dissecting down here over the past three weeks, which is more class time than most of our courses require.
Not only am I learning about squeezing hours from minutes, but I am learning what it means to not just disappoint someone, but to be utterly disappointing. Our ring leader and Faculty researcher is Marios Loukas. When he brings his tools to the cadaver, it melts in front of him, revealing the exact structure of interest, usually with some interesting variation. Usually in five minutes. We all watch this, terrified, and then retreat to our bodies to spend the next four hours trying to duplicate it. Usually we cut the structure of interest and dread the minutes until he makes his way over to our body to nod or shake his head. Makes all of us wonder how on earth we’ll survive residency.
At least we have a few oddballs to distract us. One of the cadavers is green. Glow-in-the-dark-Monster-in-the-closet green and must have been REALLY pissed off when she died. Another cadaver is much too pink, another much too wet. There’s some guy in Jersey selling them out the trunk of his car to the Anatomy Dept, hand to God.
Stress on stress, this Sunday begins the great swarm on campus. From all of our affiliate hospitals, the directors and chiefs are flying to GND to see the school and take a paid vacation. There will be sponsored lectures and the like. I get to walk to the front and give a 5-minute talk about my research to drum up awareness for our group. The rest of the week is spent hoping people recognize me from that so they’ll graciously take my CV and offer advice. This also means that my paper has to magically finish itself with polish over the weekend. Good times.
The silver lining that I’m clinging to right now is the Golf Tournament. To raise money for our research, we’re hosting a scramble in April that will involve teams of four paired with an auctioned professor. Jeremy and I have to do a lot of research to pull it off. This involves playing golf on the society’s dime tomorrow morning, drinking beer, and sighing loudly every hole.
Wish us luck, topher.
Addendum:
1) The cadaver is green because it is the body of Mrs. Eric Banner, the Incredible Hulkess. Either that or the Statue of Liberty.
2) It has been a year and 20,000+ words since my first email from Grenada.
“I guess some people are natural writers, and revel in expressing themselves, and others would prefer two hours in the dentists chair, with or without novocaine. You know where I fit. Before I start, there are two things (errors in your recent writings) that call for attention. First, there’s the thing about Blarney. Irish lore has it that any lad foolish enough to hang upside down from the turret of Blarney Castle, fifty feet or so above the lovely countryside, and stretch down to a certain stone to plant a kiss, would receive the gift of eloquence, The gift of blarney. So many eloquent Irish landed on our shores that people began to say of any such speaker “He’s full of Blarney” There are those who equate that saying with “He’s full of —-“. A terrible corruption of a lovely legend. As a tourist, I kissed the Blarney Stone, with a local lad holding my ankles. I think I’d rather be mute than kiss it again. Next, there’s your comment on the “farsy” language. When you denigrated the language, you were perehaps thinking of the version that adds a T to the spelling, as in artsy fartsy. Your lady’s language is Farsi, the tongue of ancient Persia.”
I wrote him back, gently reminding him that “perehaps” was misspelled and that “farsy/farci” was a word play with “farce” (which I now realize I STILL misspelled). I didn’t mention his excessive comma use and sentence fragments because, you know.
We bought tickets to fly down to Florida that weekend. Out of the airport, into a rental car, and out at the restaurant where the other half of the family, the Monaghans, was waiting. I’ve had time to reflect on this and I now know that yes: Irish families drink constantly pre and post funerals. I sat down, ordered a Yeungleung, and took a look at the table.
A brief intro to the players:
Terry: think “Cathy” the comic strip
Tim: youngest. Works for gov’t think tank. That’s all I can know.
Tom: bond-trader, rock of Gibraltar, 6’2″
Cathy: wife to Tom and mother to Matt and Ryan.
Matt: long-drive golfer working in the Wall Street of Connecticut. 6’3″
Ryan: man/child hockey player, 6’4″
The funeral was held Monday morning. Those who’ve visited know that Florida is the only place where your “Church best” includes golf shoes. The church was filled with all of Grandaddy’s friends, none of whom I recognized. Time to time I would ask Ryan who someone was, but his shoulders are so broad that I couldn’t hear him whisper back; had to read lips. The reception that followed was well attended. I met a number of men that played golf with my grandfather, many of whom told me that he was their best friend. However, once they found out I wasn’t the grandson that drove a ball 400 yards to the green on hole 8, they lost interest. “No, you’re looking for Matt Monaghan. He’s over there. I’m the stained-glass grandson.” “Really?” “Yeah.” “Oh. Well good luck.” I had that conversation three times.
That night the cousins went bowling. Now, I know I can’t bowl to save my life, so I decided to take charge of last place by spinning the ball with each throw, completing my parody of the professional. I kept the gutter balls down to thirteen. I was in control. In the other lane Ryan, Matt and Calvin were getting bored with their strike after strike. I was able to talk them into bowling a game with spin, thinking I would manage to climb the ranks. I forgot that Ryan is the most frustrating natural athlete ever born. I forgot that Ryan would throw strikes with marbles, the bastard. Ryan became bored with my challenge and started throwing strikes with his left. Spinning. Bastard.
I decided bowling wasn’t my thing and wondered if I might excel at wing-eating. The six of us polished off a few plates of hot wings between frames. I now think that the finger-holes in bowling balls might be the grossest places on earth judging from our behavior alone. In case you wondered.
That night Calvin and I went to bed without ordering room service once during our stay, which was Cal’s raison d’etre. Sorry Cal. I was on a plane for GND by 7:00am and touched down at 6:00 with a brief layover in Barbados. There is a place slower than GND, and it is Barbados.
Back in GND, things are as they were. I had already missed the first two days of class so decided to call the rest of the week a wash. I instead used those days to settle in and prepare for Orientation. It went off without a hitch which had everything to do with my not being in charge. I let the new Chair learn from all of my mistakes while I busied myself with a slide show of GND scenery, students, parties, Prague, and so on. It got a few laughs.
The Anatomical Research Society is the second thing pulling for my attention. Our VP recently resigned citing irreconcilable anxiety. That makes me the new VP. In case you forgot, this ARS was set up for those students that wanted to complete research while in medschool, get some more time in the anatomy lab with scalpels, and polish the old curriculum vitae. It’s a magnet for overachievers. It was our responsibility this term to announce the club and hold interviews for the 15 positions open to the second termers. Amazingly, 40 people showed up. We conducted the meeting like a fraternity rush with existing members milling about and answering questions while the prospectives networked and made their cases. After an hour we kicked them out and began arguing over who would get the limited spaces. We all agreed that it was a good thing we were founding members because none of us would have been competitive. We had lawyers, chemical engineers, students with four publications under the belt from undergrad, etc.
In addition to this, everyone in the club is trying to get their own publications finished before the blessed third term ends. That means that this week we spent 10 hours of prime study time in the lab trying to prepare perfect dissections. My second project involves minuscule arteries underneath the tongue which break apart like wet tissue paper. Not the Quilted Northern tissue paper but the 1-ply Goodwill toilet paper. Each half-tongue takes about three hours of prep to take a single picture. Then it’s off to the next one. You stink of formaldehyde, are elbow deep in someone’s face, and your back aches because the tables don’t come up to standing height. I can’t wait to be a surgeon.
When I’m not worrying about classes or Anatomy I get to spend time with Sherin. She has her own apartment this term and we try to have lunch together every day. She has her cupboards organized in a way that could only make sense to a girl. Baked goods, cookies, crackers and cake mixes in one cabinet; bread, rice cakes, hummus and goldfish in another. “It makes sense, topher. If I’m sad and want something sweet, I make these things. If I’m bored and want to snack in bed, I eat these.” Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the Mood groups.
Sherin also has a “Like” jar. I told her that she could never meet my father if she keeps using “like” as a comma. One EC dollar for every infraction. She asked me what we get to do with the money. “Fly to the moon, Sherin. The moon.” She then told me that she hates me. She says this with such regularity that it no longer sounds like English, but instead a sneeze: hAT CHewww. I “God-blessed” her the other day.
Well guys, that all for now. Seeing as my life is about to hit the fan, I’m going to sign off for about a month.
Wish me luck, topher.
Addendum:
1) Terry, Mom told me to write that.
2) “Raison d’etre” is french for “reason to be, purpose in life”
3) Yes, I will let you know how much money is in the Like jar each time I write. We’re at 30EC after two days.
Happy New Year everyone. It’s been a while since I last wrote and I blame Sherin. Everyone knows that a surefire way to come up with a story is to do something stupid and document the consequence. For example: class elections rap, bartending at sandblast, going euro in prague with tight pants, Carnivale, Moped, Moped (I feel like it needs to be in here twice), library guerilla wars, Dodgeball and Thanksgiving. Everyone also knows that sensible girlfriends worth keeping tend to stop us from achieving our true potential for idiocy. So I don’t write as much. Now Sherin is complaining that I don’t write enough. This is so much fun.
Since Thanksgiving, life at school meant life in the library. Around this time I started to get very sick with constant sinus problems. I figured it was just the stress of studying and little sunlight. One day late in, I saw a friend of mine spraying his desk with Lysol and wiping it down. He told me this:
“Before Immuno, a few of us came in early to cram and we saw the cleaning ladies. From the same bucket of water they cleaned the bathroom floor, toilet and urinal. They then dropped rags into the bucket and wiped down every desk in the library. No wonder everyone has been getting so sick.”
Thank you Grenadian cleaning lady; it was great taking my exams sick.
As I got healthy I was able to spend more time learning from Sherin. For instance, when Sherin remarks that it is cool out tonight that means I’m cold because Sherin is now wearing my jacket. When Sherin realizes that she hasn’t been given a fork I realize that I have no fork. Sherin does not want dessert, she wants my dessert. These lessons culminated when the roomates took the girlfriends out to dinner. Sherin was sitting with her back exposed when it began to rain. At this point I prempted and demanded that we trade spaces. The table began to give me a ribbing for being so chivalrous. I’d like to set the record straight: I was just avoiding the situation where I look like an ass for letting her get wet BEFORE I have to trade places. So much of dating is finding the path of least resistance.

The next day was spent walking the capital in search of crap to buy. I came out the big winner with a baby-blue GRENADA baseball cap. Which I wore proudly. On an impulse move, we packed up, bought groceries and headed for LaSagesse. We took the roof off of Sherin’s Jeep and let the wind blow through our hair. I felt left out.
LaSagesse is a breath-taking beach that we had to ourselves. All the boys suffer from ADD, so when the football and paddle tennis got old it was time to leave. I had so much fun driving up and down the hills and turns to get there that Sherin insisted on driving back. I almost made it the whole way without saying something about her driving. Not the path of least resistance.

With Sherin away in New York I am trying to keep busy back home. Popop (grandfather) has taken me to a few basketball games. Home Team played a team named Chicago State(?) whose two top scorers are under 5’6″, none of which makes any sense. Uncle Laurence is letting me see patients with him. Every day he asks me some simple question in front of a patient that I completely fumble. Oh, if the students I tutor could see me now. And by the way, you have carpel tunnel syndrome. It’s the ADHD of neurology.
I find myself looking up to my brother, Calvin, these days. He’s been dating his girlfriend for over a year now while I’m not half that. He was brave enough to bring her to Christmas dinner at Gagi and Popop’s. The ride over was a coaching session to stay close to Calvin, relatives in clusters are trouble, and watch out for Aunt Katy. Are you reading this, Sherin? Watch out for Aunt Katy.
In other holiday news: I’m sure everyone will believe me when I say that a good portion of Christmas’ Eve dinner was spent looking up the etymology of “kilter” as in “off kilter”. Nobody knows where it comes from, incidentely. We ended up discussing the true height of Hugh Jackman, Sting, and The Governator: 6’3″, 6′ and 5’10” (but he wears lifts).
Well, I think that about does it. I head back to GND in a few days which leaves me precious little time to do something stupid. I know you’re all pulling for me.
Happy New Year everyone, topher.
Addendum: I’m kidding, Aunt Katy.
Let’s get caught up on the last month.
In Neuro, I’ve learned a little about sleep, arousal, emotions, EEGs and others. Drug Addiction was the most boring lecture of the bunch which hardly seems fair. Please, just once, I would like someone like Anthony Keidis (Red Hot Chili Peppers) to come and give a guest lecture. That’s not too much too ask for all this money.
In Physiology, we’ve gone over the intestines and kidneys. It seems inappropriate to talk about mass movements and micturition reflexes with such a regal accent. It makes everyone feel dirty as they head to the bathrooms. In droves.
The schedule of first term classes is finally starting to crack people. I opened the doors of an elevator to discover someone sitting on a chair with highlighter in mouth, pen in hand and notes on lap. I also found (by complete accident) a student studying underneath the stairwell. We have given these people appropriate nicknames.
The rest of us are trying to find ways to relax. Sherin and I tried unsuccessfully for five weeks to go to dinner for our second formal date. The food was great, the waiter was drunk, and Sherin kept talking about Ryan Corabi. Ryan is one my closest friends from JCU and may be the funniest. Ryan taught me the guitar, I taught him how to read. I thought it would be a good idea to have Sherin email Ryan to get a better idea of who I was in college. Unfortunately, Ryan was a little too funny. So funny that Sherin started calling her friends so that she could READ OVER THE PHONE his entire email. “When can I meet Ryan?” “Can Ryan come to Grenada?” “Am I Ryan’s type?” It never ends.
And another thing, Sherin (she reads these). YOU CANNOT HAVE MY HAT.
Dodgeball. Last term we got together a group of eight guys to form Team Conch and Balls. We were one of the few teams to make uniforms depicting an injury to the brachial plexus. We lost last term to the team that eventually won and began training on that day for this term. Now for some reason I don’t own white tshirts and GND doesn’t have any either. Instead, they have oversized V-necks which make quite the show of my chest hair. I’m not ashamed. I’ve been told I looked like an angel. We spent one full night coming up with tshirt designs and logos. Our team mascot was “decorticate posturing” with boxer shorts. We had groupies, flags, and redbull. We were unstoppable. We ended up losing to a team of cheaters. I know I know, everyone says that. But team Conch and Balls takes things seriously, had video footage, and showed it to the judges. Day late, dollar short, all that. Like the good sports that we were, my teammates grabbed the flags and circled the courts with moral-victory laps.
Getting outside gets harder and harder in the rainy season. The rains started at night, every night, for hours before gaining strength and taking over the day. I’m not saying I would have gone anyway, but I’m sure it made it hard for a lot of stdents to get to class. It also drove animals indoors and we now have a mice problem. My roomate Kelly was born in Kenya and spent most of his youth throughout Africa and Australia. This is how I learned about the New Zealand mouse trap. It is brillaint and cheap. You take a bottle, cover it’s neck in margarine and its body in a sock, stuff cheese into the opening and set it over a counter ledge above a bucket of water. Mouse goes for cheese, slips, drowns. I was so excited for this until we realized the next morning that our mouse was, in fact, MacGuyver. We’re still working out the kinks.
In exciting news, I’M DOING RESEARCH! I’ll be working on two projects over Christmas break that should be ready for submission in February. I won’t bore you with the details unless you ask me, in person, to bore you.
My class is filled with a bunch of overachievers that are admittedly late-blooming. But that’s neither here nor there. A friend of mine, Jeremy, is working now to create a group of students for our upcoming Patholgy class (in March) that will be responisble for preparing the material and presenting it to the rest of the group. Everyone in the class has to join a group of 10-15 people and your grade does depend upon your groups performance. Jeremy has decided to recruit the best talent and purge anyone with the slightest weakness. We all applaud Jeremy for the throat-cutting, but it got ridiculous the other day. Someone suggested that this girl, Jean, should be considered for the group. Now everyone already in the group gets a veto; one veto and you’re out of consideration without debate. Somebody expressed concerns with Jean’s ability to handle stress, so Jeremy decided to investigate. Last week during sunset, Jeremy left in the middle of conversation to stand OVER Jean, look down at her, and ask innocently, “So, Jean, are you panicking out about this exam yet? No? That’s surprising. Lot of material. Lot. Of. Material. Well good luck.” She was very unnerved and Jeremy had his answer: Jean out.
Well I have to pull the turkey out and carve it with no idea how to carve it. Hope everyone back home is having a memorable holiday. Enjoy the silly pictres.
topher.
Addendum:
Thanksgiving went off without a hitch, Sherin entertained and fed an impossible 30+ people, and no one has gotten sick. Congratulations Sherin.
If you google my name, you get nothing. If you google my sister Kimberly, you get an outline of an athletic superstar. Congratulations Kimmy.
]]>I just finished the first season of LOST on DVD. I am now one of those annoying people that tries to push a favorite show on everyone else. GO WATCH LOST!
My bike is still out of commission. The only person in Grenada that knows how to change a rear tire works in the capital. Can’t exactly get a busted bike to the capital, so in the meantime I’ve been filling it up with air and riding the leak. This ended upbruptly when the innertube popped out at the gas station and I had to have a Reggae bus crew help me force it back in with a pen and a wrench. It’s times like those that help me justify paying that guy in the capital to take a trip out to Lance Aux Epines.
Halloween at the apartment was a big deal. We all took the Immuno final that morning and had afternoon off to go to the beach. Barring the ten minutes I get every day walking back and forth from the library, I haven’t gotten any sun or taken a day off in weeks. I’d be tanner if I was in STL. I had to laugh when we got to Grand Anse and a three hour rainfall began. Goodtimes. Time to make costumes. Kelly and Winston had traveled around the island pillaging dumpsters for cardboard the week before. Most of us had our ideas in cement for at least that long. Onto the pictures.

Kelly is the one dressed as cutlery, Winston is the one dressed as a carnival attraction, Sam is out of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, I’m eating spinach, Sherin went surfing too close to the reef and Lauren (Sam’s girlfriend) went as Ms. Patel, the Punjabi lady that has served me Indian Food everyday for almost a year. When we entered the party we owned the room. Good Halloween.
If we had gone trick-or-treating, this would have been my joke:
What do you call a car parked in the middle of the road? A Grenadian traffic jam.
You think I’m joking? This morning on the way to campus, there was a two-car traffic jam. One car was off and it’s driver was sitting outside while another driver pulled up beside him and started some business transaction. I had no idea what was going on until the paused driver continued past us with a drink and a smile. Sure enough out of this jerk’s trunk was a cooler and a sign: Lemonade 5EC. Ladies and gentlemen: the grendian lemonade stand.
The new staggered exam system means that Immuno finished on Monday, Parasit began on Tuesday and has its final in two weeks. The week after is Neuro, the week after is Physio. Two days later is the Basic Sciences Competency Exam, an in-house test determining how much of the first year I have retained and determines the class rank on my transcript. I am not a fan of this system as it encourages cramming. It also means I’m stuck in the library from now till Dec 11th. Not a lot of time to come up with funny stories. Oh well.
Almost a year, almost a year. topher.
]]>Right after our exams finished, the first term’s began. This meant that any time in the library was not my time, but their time. This meant post-it notes on desks, mini-conversations walking past the door, and five or six one-last-questions a day. Somebody somehow got my cell phone number. After all of this bother Kelly and I were both very curious as to what impact we had. Did we help at all? Some students over the past week have come up to thank us for their A’s, others have come up to me to say that they almost failed. Seriously, they walk up and say, “Hi topher. About biochem, I almost failed.” Not awkward at all. So no, I don’t think we helped. I think the people that were going to get A’s got their A’s and the people that thought just showing up to a DES session would be enough got the rest. I have decided to lower my exposure and move to Sunday mornings at 10am. I can’t wait to tell you the stories about hungover responses to lipid synthesis.
My back tire blew out the other day and I have spent the last week trying to get it fixed. This has led to two amazing discoveries: there is a Grenadian yellow pages that might as well be a single sheet of paper saying “No, we don’t do that. You should ask somebody else.” and if I really want a good job done on my bike, I should go to the roundabout that splits Mont Toute, Lance Aux Epines and Grand Anse where, at the corner by the fruit ladies, there is a guy named Leon that hangs out there sometimes in the mornings, has a short black beard, and usually wears a grey sock on his head. Only in GND.
My friend Jarret is doing an amazing thing. He has started an organization called “Finding Smiles” whose goal is to entertain the orphans and sick children of Grenada. He has been meeting with the President of Grenada, the Health Director, the Dean of SGU, and exchanged letters with Patch Adams of the Gesundheit! Institute. This Saturday is SANDBLAST (some of you may remember it from last term) and Jarret has asked me to host a slackline demonstration from noon till three for the organization. “You know, just set it up, let the kids play on it, and try to have a few neat tricks to show them.” I’m scared for everyone involved. My neat trick will be neurotic safety and sustained unease.
Sherin is off in New York enjoying the rain and buying me a corncob pipe and a can of spinach. Once I shave my head and draw an anchor on each forearm the transformation will be complete. Look forward to the pictures from Halloween everybody!
Realized this morning that I’m not yet a year into this whole thing, topher.
Not funny Addendum:
The more and more that they teach us here, the more distressing the information becomes. We just finished up the endocrine system before midterms. Not only do I know people in my class with hyper- and hypo- thyroidism, but one of my classmates just discovered that his persistent sore throat was in fact thyroid cancer. He was flown back to the states, emergency surgery was performed, and during the tumor’s removal the nerve supplying half of his vocal chord was cut. Our class knows in uncomfortable detail all the problems that lie ahead for him. In Neurology, we’re learning about Huntington’s and Parkinson’s disease. Some of my friends have parents with these diseases in the early stages; this cannot be easy for them. I wonder how many people in my class anticipated what knowing all of this was going to do to us.
These last few weeks there has been much talk about a classmate of ours that tried to cheat on an exam, was caught by no fewer than six people, and tried to pass it off as a misunderstanding. The people that turned in this student wrestled with the decision for days knowing full well that an expulsion from a medical program would brand this student forever with a scarlet C: something you wouldn’t wish on an enemy. They realized that any guilt or sympathy they felt paled in comparison to their obligation to future patients that might be harmed by the type of behavior that cheating forebodes. They did it knowing that they would have to face the accused one by one and restate their accusations. I couldn’t be more proud of my class for making that painful decision and I cannot imagine how heavy the mistake of your life must weigh on a person.
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So I disappeared. Every day for the last 10 days has played out the same: awake and out of bed by 6:00, library and redbull on an empty stomach by 7:00, sitting in the same study room till midnight with a break for lunch and a break for dinner. Aderrall rationing into fourths and eigths of pills; people slowly moving their desks at home onto their desks in the library doing everything short of marking their space with urine; the low volume hum of too much information in too little heads; Dry Erase markers everywhere. Exam week is awesome.
And there was plenty going on in the background. At SGU there are three student factions: the Meds, the Vets, and the undergrads. The vets and Meds don’t mix geographically. They have their buildings and their horses, we have ours. The undergrads however compete for the same resources as we. Sometimes Darwin rears his head. Well, mostly it’s Freud.
The library has a limited number of study rooms with dry erase boards. Its 12, actually, and I know the room number for every one. They are a hot commodity and you must arrive early to secure them. Then you have to make it look like you have a study GROUP in there so you bring as many items as you can in your backpack and spread them out over every surface so no one will invade. The arrangment always looks hopelessly fake but must continue for appearence’s sake.
Now the buses don’t start running until 7am, so if you arrive before then you’ve got a good shot but the undergrads take the reggae buses in around 6am. Now they have class from 7-9, so that means that they are setting up shop and then walking away. The library has a policy against this: no squatting. So, if you show up and a room looks occupied but is without occupants you are completely within your rights to put their things in the hall and take over. In practice, this isn’t done. Everyone has been there: left there stuff to go to lunch, walked down to D-Store for some coffee, taken a smoke break. And everyone seems to respect the karma of I’ll leave yours if you leave mine.
Well not me, and not now.
If it looks like someone has left their things from the night before: in the hall. Undergrad has left for classes: in the hall. For lunch, for dinner, for anything: in the hall. I am very popular with the undergrads. Sherin has called me “heartless”.
Sure, there was turblence in the beginning. “Go complain to security” would roll off of my tongue. It became a mini movement as more and more Physio’s and Neuro’s were placing Physics and Bio’s outside. There were rules emerging as well. Bio’s did not attack Bio or Physio’s Physio. Everyone cow-tipped. A War of the Signs emerged proclaiming “Occupied DO NOT DISTURB”, “2 people inside on 10/02”, “Don’t even knock”. These were the rooms I targeted first, were the most satisfying. Eventually the field mellowed as people gave up the idea of squatting without presence and realized that everyone looks inside of an “Occupied!” room and leaves the “Join us if you’re quiet”s alone. It also could have been because exams were ending.
Anyway everyone learned a valuable lesson.
Another undercurrent was the theft of Kelly. In the beginning there was Terrel and his car: Yosemite Sam. No one else had wheels, so we all travelled with Terrel and were always together. Sam struck off on his own days later with his girlfriend Lauren. And then there were three. I followed suit with a moped and Sherin, proving once and for all that girls dig motorcycles. Kelly stayed true to Terrell by travelling, studying and eating never a few feet away. Then came Analisa; Kelly started to drift. The final blow came during exam week when I needed Kelly’s help to secure study rooms; a sort of rotating watch as one of us would eat while the other kept house. Now Terrel was alone. Kelly starting eating with me, studying with me, and taking the bus. Yosemite Sam alone remained. Exams are over, I’m helping Sherin with biochem, and Kelly has returned to a broken home. There is a lot of healing ahead.
Kelly is a boy. Probably wasn’t too clear from the story.
As for midterms, I did very well. Mom, I’ll send you an email in a little while with details. I promise. The email write-in contest is over with Nicol Averbuch the winner. I’m very happy with the responses. For those of you that had spouses write in, I’ve decided to count you both as a single person. Uncles, thank my aunts.
new favorite word: holosystolic
Thanks for reading everyone, and happy birthday Kimberly.
topher.
]]>Oh, and you should all feel that your time spent writing back to me was worth it. NOT ONE of the people that failed to respond is getting this email. They will instead receive the following message:
“Thank you for reading about my adventures over the past few months. If you would like to continue receiving updates, please follow the instructions in the last email you received from me detailing your obligation to tell me a bit about your life. My most recent missive was on Sept. 17th, and I will be happy to forward it to you once I have received your submission. Thank you, and have a great day! topher.”
Just to clear up some things from the last email, Sherin (share-een, not sharon) is Persian like I am Irish: not really. So to those who asked if she wears covering and has to be subservient (hilarious by the way) the answer is yes. Of course I could just be full of blarney. I am learning new things from her every day. For instance, I was shocked when she told me that “farcy” is a real language. I always thought it was a pun for gibberish. I think we’re both a little right.
My roommates Terrell and Kelly have been better about their classes than I, and so as a treat went to the Luau party. This was after an afternoon spent in Island Arts and Crafts. They grabbed coconuts from the beach and ripped up palm fronds to make bras and grass skirts. The highlight was watching Kelly pitch his coconut into the air and the frothy explosion of curdled milk that followed, covering our parking lot. It was hands down the worst smell of my time in Grenada, a mixture of pus and hell-vomit. It was the type of smell that penetrates things. Shudder.
This weekend marks the end of the first month that my roommates and I have been on the Navy Seals workout. I made sure that my “before” picture had me frowning, slouched, and pasty white in poor lighting so that my “after” picture would be more dramatic. The only dramatic thing in the picture is how dirty our walls got in a month without a maid.
Before she left this weekend for Barbados, Sherin asked me to take her out on the moped. Of course it was a disaster. The moped groaned under the extra weight (she’s a big girl) so I had to get used to staying in each gear longer than I like. The moped, instead of having both up- and down-shifting handled by a toe peddle, splits the job of shifting between a toe and heel peddle. I could not reach the heel peddle easily with Sherin’s leg under mine, so my shifting was typically graceful. All in all, the trip was lurch-tastic.
The paragraph about school: midterms start on the 26th with Immunology. We’ve had 15 hours of lecture for immuno. I am 15 lectures behind. I am 4 lectures behind in Neuro and 3 behind in Physio. For those keeping score, those 22 hours of instruction that I have to complete in the coming week are ON TOP OF the 14 hours of new instruction. That’s 5 hours of lecture a day without taking into account that I need about 3 study hours for every lecture hour to take full notes and memorize the material. Watch as I descend into the seventh circle of Red Bull.
So this will probably be the last email I write until a half hour before my midterm. I’ll talk to you then, topher.
Addendum:
1) Farcy is the language spoken by Persians. It’s a real language. Not a joke at all.
2) Blarney is something relating to my Irish heritage. Honestly, I was just faking it with this one.
3) In Dante’s Inferno, he details the seven circles of Hell, with the seventh being reserved for those worst sinners.
4) Red Bull is a drink that they serve on the seventh level.
We’ve lost electricity in our apartment a few times with the last episode almost 48 hours long save for a five hour intermission of light. I had to drink all the beer in the fridge and eat all the chips in a hurry before they melted. I found this funnier than my roomates. None of them has a flashlight, so while I walk around with my headlamp Kelly is navigating by the flash of his camera, Sam is using his cell phone, and Winston is stalking us in the dark pretending to be a ninja.
I don’t think I’ve mentioned it yet, but we have a few mosquitos in our place. Not very smart, the mosquito. Our fans are on constantly, and one day I left for school and forgot to turn mine off. I came home to a pile of mangled legs and wings at the base of my desk, testament to the event horizon that is five inces behind the fan. I haven’t turned it off since. I’m not going to lie to you: it makes me feel smart.
I feel obliged to have one paragraph devoted to my classes since some readers wonder if I even go to school down here. Physiology is incredibly interesting and has yielded more information so far that I feel I can use clinically. I understand why the heart wooshes and warbles in different ways when things go wrong in different places. I’ve learned that the kidneys are the brains behind the circulatory system, that the heart is a dumb pump, and lessons should always come in threes. Neurology is giving me hysterical blindness, a condition I should be able to explain soon enough. The upside is that I can now explain why I still feel like the room is spinning once I’ve actually stopped running in a circle pulling out my hair.
Well, it wouldn’t be honest to wrap things up without including Sherin. I met a beautiful girl at the beginning of this term through a mutual friend who at the time was trying to set her up with my roomate. Things didn’t pan out for the roomate. I’ll be honest: I’m a little smitten. She matches me sarcastic comment for comment so it goes without saying that we talk for hours. She’s persian. “Persian” is a fancy way of saying you’re from Iran. Flying with this girl is going to be an experiece.
Alright, so this last part is ransom to everyone that has been on this mailing list a while. When I went home this last break I felt myself in a bit of information debt. You know more about my life than I know about yours. So here’s the deal: I want AT LEAST two paragraphs from every one of you letting me know what is going on in your life, how is your work, how is your dog. I don’t care what you write, just write something. As I receive your responses, I will add your name to the mailing list once more. Deal? Good.
You have no idea how much I am looking forward to this, topher.
P.S. A paragraph consists of no fewer than three full sentences. “It’s fun.”, while grammatically complete, will not be counted towards the total of three sentences. If this were for a grade, try to get a B.
Event Horizon: that border between the distances where escape from the gravitational pull of a black hole becomes and ceases to become possible, even for light.
]]>Speaking of gears, living off campus without a vehicle is no fun. The time it takes to travel back and forth for cooked meals, changes in books, and other sundry errands comes to 2-3 hours a day. Then consider that those errands happen an hour or two apart from each other and you have a day that is broken up into pieces that prevent any study-momentum. I need something.
My budget won’t allow me a controlling interest in a car among my roomates, so that leaves bicycle, motorcycle, and moped on the table. Last Friday I responded to an add and made a complete ass of myself. A vet student looking to unload a moped she has never ridden had to show me the clutch, kickstart, brakes and instructional panel on the gas tank tying all of these objects together. I decided to wheel it out and take it for a test drive. How hard could that be? I used the front brake the entire time not realizing there was one at my foot, because the front brake and the throttle are on the same handlebar I did an excellent job of lurching, and I almost killed a cow.
Dad, I know you are so proud of me.
Naturally I fell in love with the thing. There’s something about the speed that only a moped can deliver. She was asking $1400 and I was offering $830; it would be a while.

In the meantime, MY HANGBOARD IS UP! I paid someone squatting in the abandoned hotel next to us $28 to build a frame for it and am happy to report that the skin is tearing off every one of my fingers in righteous flappers. My roomates really don’t know how to handle my excitement. Needless to say I have made all of them use it during our Navy Seals workout.
There is once again a beach by our house and I am swimming every day. It got a little hard doing laps from the buoy and back with my head above water, so I went and bought some Swedish goggles (the ones without any rubber that make you look like you have glass insect eyes). They pinch pretty bad and it hurts to blink. I toughed it out the first day for about a half hour and then suffered for the next two while everyone laughed at “the racoon”. Har har. What’s worse, now that I can see clear to the bottom I don’t want to swim at my beach anymore: it’s too dirty and I can see little bits of things going past my mouth.
So this brings us to the phone call I recieved from the vet student on Thursday asking me to haggle a bit for the moped. I will also mention that I had two of my friends make offers on the bike and then reatract them saying “it just wasn’t worth it”. I asked her to meet me halfway between our offers to each other, then I refused again. I had my arms crossed and everything.
Dad, I know you are so proud of me.
She eventually settled at $1000 throwing in two new helmets, a lock and a waterproof bag for it all. Let the countdown begin to my first crippling accident! At least now I can ride to a cleaner beach.
Avoiding potholes and maniacs, topher.
Addendum:
1) A hangboard is a climber’s pullup bar that hurts in creative ways
2) A flapper occurs when a callous along with the underlying skin is torn away, revealing red, glistening dermis.
3) I was called “the racoon” because I had twin bruise circles around my eyes
P.S.
So it’s actually Friday afternoon and I bought the bike! The helmet does not fit my head. I rolled it down this girl’s driveway and (flashing back to my youth) taught myself how to work the thing in a parking lot. Every single scenario I could imagine I played out against imaginary pedestrians and reggae busses. It took about an hour before I could lean correctly, downshift quickly, and start from neutral on a hill. I probably wasn’t completely ready, but I went into traffic anyway. HI MOM!
I have been somewhat responsible; I put two white “L”s on the side of the helmet to let every other motorist know that I have no idea what I am doing.
addendum:
4) In Grenada, all student driver cars are called “learners” and have a big white “L” on them.
We have a bit of an ant problem. We went out and bought ant traps, the ones where they carry the poison back to their queen and everyone dies. I got bored the other day, set one out, and pulled up a chair to watch the drama unfold. You could sell this as its own TV show. I was so excited watching the first scout come get a taste to be followed by all of his ant brothers swarming it minutes later. After ten minutes of this, I ran around the house putting the other five traps out, cycling between each one so that I wouldn’t miss a moment. It was a full afternoon.
My main classes this term are Neuro and Physio, each 5 credits. They are hard. It helped matters none that the first week and weekend here were spent running the Footsteps/Orientation program. So two weeks in and I am a week behind in material that makes me wonder if I have the chops to be a medical student. Yes, I am wallowing.
Some may remember a while back I wrote about never bartending again. Well, over the summer I bought a fancy computer so for the rest of the term my belt will be a little tight. When the opportunity came to save a cover fee by agreeing to man the bar at Grand Anse for two hours, I took it. I figured this would be fun the way that Sandblast was not since it would be without the responsibilities. Imagine my surprise when they tell me that I am slated to be bar captain. Oh horror.
Well, everything happened again. My hands got soggy from all of the water and started getting cut by broken bottles posing as ice. People screaming, asking for drinks, bottle-openers missing, everyone running out of beer, liquor, soda. By the end everyone was gone, the place was cleaned, and the people running the party were actually grateful! They put a case of beer and a few pieces of Carib merchandise into our car. I wish it always ended that way.
I apologize for bouncing all over the place, but my roomates watch way too many movies. Each of them brought a DVD binder, and all told we have over 200 titles in the house. Not one day passes where fewer than two movies play in this house. It is distracting. Worse yet, they have the first seasons of Scrubs, Grey’s Anatomy, and Band of Brothers. I am on the losing end of this war with entertainment.
No kidding, I’m worried about this term. I already feel overextended [sic]. I have my classes in the morning, then I’m tutoring anatomy and biochemistry once a week. The afternoons are broken up with Clinical Skills or Professional Development or Neuro lab or Physio lab. I also joined an Anatomy research program that just started at the school. The guy running it was recently poached from American University of the Caribbean and has been the captain of the winning team at the Anatomical something or other competition the last three years running. He’s faculty at Harvard and wants nothing more than to develop a similar program at SGU. So that fell into our laps. Not done yet. My roomates have decided that we, as a house, are doing the Navy Seals workout over the next 6 months, complete with before and after pictures. I’m two days in and dying. I know Anna (Wash U Grad student) has more on her plate than that and handling it with aplomb, but it’s a lot for me.
I have completely stopped going out in order to stay on top of all this. I also have three classes (Genetics, Immuno, Parasitology) that are being taught consecutively through the term. The Genetics final is Monday. Can you believe that, a two week crash course for 1 credit?
I’m sure (I hope) that I will find my rythm soon and can begin enjoying life again. When that happens, these emails will get a little more sun and so will I.
Treading, topher.
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My last free weekend in Europe was a week ago and I had yet to travel anywhere. So the night before, I found a like-minded student, Adam, and we took off for the Brewery tour of the Czech Republic. We caught a bus to Pilzen, home of the only true Pilsner beer, Prazdroj. We arrived in this town, unable to speak Czech or find someone who mluveetee anglitsky (speaks english), so we decided to take random buses in random directions. We ended up taking a bus past an enourmous complex with PILSNER URQUELL written over and over on the wall followed on the end with a sign that said GAMBRINUS. Now, Gambrinus is a competing beer made in the Czech Republic. That, along with this bus stop being called “gambrinus”, made us feel justified in riding further. We were such idiots.
After the Pilzen tour we caught a train for Ceske Budejovice, home of BUDVAR! We had about an hour until our bus into Cesky Krumlov was scheduled to leave, so we wandered a bit. I have to say that one of my favorite things about Europe is their town squares. Anytime a town devotes two square blocks to an open cobblestoned square with nothing in it but a central fountain, I am a fan.
A half hour later and we are in Cesky Krumlov, touted as one of the most beautiful cities in Europe. The place belongs in a snow globe complete with waterfall and wheel, aqeduct, palace, ornately decorated spire, and a lazy river that wraps around to define the borders of the city. Of course, I took no pictures.
The next morning we went back to Cesky Budejovice to take the brewery tour. Too bad it was Sunday. We made the best of it by sitting in the Budvar restaurant and drinking 5L of delicious Budvar each. I also managed to spend 1000 Krowns on a Budvar tie, tie clip, bottle openers, and a Budvar towel. I do like Budvar. I also have 6 Budvar coasters that tell the story of some demon that sneeks into the Brewery, tampers with the beer, and is then stoned with corn-on-the-cob.
And the winner of these priceless coasters and Budvar bottle opener? Uncle Neurophysiologist, for his advice on traveling in Europe:
“Look at your luggage and divide by 2; then look at your wallet and multiply by 2.”
Returning to Prague, I have gone Euro. “Going Euro” is wearing the tight jeans, the tight shirts, the green sneakers, the button down shirt open with belly proudly leading on a hot day, the guy with no shirt in the middle of the classy bar, the girl and the guy making out so hard you think one is trying to eat the other (this drawing no stares). Going Euro happens in pockets instead of on a gradient. You don’t have people that are half punk, half model, or half naked; everything is all out. It wasn’t till the end of the trip that I realized how much I was ignoring, but Prague is a twilight zone of crazy.
In Prague, I have finally hit “survive” on the scale of Czech fluency. I can come and go, order and pay, ask and understand directions, and tell a Czech women that she is beautiful. But more than all of this, the ability to say “buzz off” in Czech without accent has been the most useful when dodging vendors and prostitutes on the tourist-choked streets.
Traveler’s note: if a woman walks up to you asking for “sexy?” and you refuse, she will try to run after you and hug you. She IS NOT trying to change your mind; she is trying to pick your pocket. Channel Ron Burgandy, and you’ll know what to do.
Landing back in the US was disorienting. First, everyone is speaking English while I’m still on Czech autopilot with my Dyekui’s (thanks) and my Dobry Den’s (hello). The faces in the airport are softer, without all the dramatic angles that hallmark the euros.
So that was it. My own advice for those traveling to Europe:
“Learn their language.”
Cheers And Nastravi! (Nicedriveway)
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Where to begin. Having a bit of writer’s block. I’m sitting off the balcony of my new room in a Hostel downtown. This is so much better than living in Kobylisy 8 with 7 other people in a room with four beds touching. I’ve been in Prague for seven days now. There are so many different types of faces and haircuts. The mullet is king, with every third person from the UK sporting one. The Scottish are terrifying. Every one of them looks like an extra from Braveheart that kept the costume. So scary. Nobody wears matching clothing, colour or decade.
Everything is different. Their toilet paper is thinner and has that recycled-paper look. I am still terrified of bedais (sp?). Men with capris are king; runner up is the tapered pant leg. The escalators are very steep and seems like the most popular place to stare at people. I haven’t figured out if this is a staring society or if I’m getting the tourist treatment. Either way, I’m staring back.
It seems that only 3/4 of Prague is Czech, the rest ex-pat and vacationing. Opening up your head to all of the different languages ruins your ability to eavesdrop on your own, I’ve learned. I’ve learned about 50 czech words that I can’t pronounce. Nerozemum = I don’t know = most useful word. “krk”= throat. “Cheers!” sounds like “nice drive way” slurred. Beer is “pivo”.
There are no ranch homes in Prague. You can buy a shirt that says “Czech me out!” but not one that says “Czech, please?” which disappoints me. Everywhere I walk has art. If not paintings on walls then reliefs over doorways or statues on state buildings. There is a statue of Lenin hanging from one arm four stories off the ground and out my window. There is a statue of Superman proudly face-planting into the ground.
My legs are oak dipped in steel. I’m averaging 8 miles a day on foot. There is something to look at or do every single step. There are so many restaurants that you marvel at how they can all stay in business. There just can’t be that many hungry people. I have been living like a king, eating out every meal, sitting in beautiful restaurants that could fetch $100 plate prices back home but cost only $7. The dollar trades with the krown at 1/25. I feel like I am stealing from these people. There are so many places to eat that you are forced to have the appetizer, course and desert at three different locations with drinks at a fourth, fifth, ad infinitum.
I’m in Prague to study. A course through SGU places me on rounds with doctors from different fields, one per week. I lucked out with heart, brain and bone. Some poor saps got lungs, guts and kids. I have two more days of heart, where I get to watch a doctor push and pull a tube through someone’s chest via a hole in their leg. We watch all of this on live x-ray monitors and ponder the weight of our full body lead vests. For the vest alone, I do not want to be a cardiologist.
Things to do:
1) walk across all seven bridges in Prague (maybe two people laugh at this)
2) buy uncle a gift for telling me about Budvar, the best thing since life itself
3) Get out of Prague for a while
Taking a nap and walking somewhere, topher.
]]>Last night my roomate Kevin and I quizzed each other over the ingredients in Diet Coke, Red Bull and Mountain Dew. Happy to report that we knew how to make all of them except the dyes.
For those who remember all the way back to my running diary of midterm exams, rest assured that people are even more out of their minds this time around, and it is funnier in proportion.
One of my roomates for next year is dating Yoko Ono. Everyone is very nervous.
wish me luck, topher.
]]>“You can tell here that they used a ten blade. Notice the lilt of the incision. And the separation of soft tissues speakes to me. It whispers, ‘grenade’.”
Then it’s off to the lecture hall at 1:00 to look at SLIDES of dissections and Identify those without the benefit of a 3D plane. I’m not kidding when I say that it helps to get your bearings in the neck by making sure you can see the feet.
What’s it like identifying structures in the neck? Imagine a Jenga tower with every block having a special name and function, only they aren’t written on the blocks. Now imagine someone bumping the table and those blocks falling everywhere without ryhme, reason. Now imagine that those blocks are instead rubber bands and tied around each other. Good luck with that.
Afterwards is the written exam which is scheduled to end around 3:30. If I’m lucky, I won’t know half of the material for which I’m responsible and will get to finish early, take a nap, and start studying for Histology.
Cheers, topher.
P.S. Paradoxically, I spent the first half of the term feverently studying Embryology only to score lower than I would’ve liked on the midterm. Since then, I’ve been pulling a George Castanza: doing the exact opposite and getting better results. Cheers to you fetus; you really don’t care if I understand you.
]]>It’s official: last night, bored of Emrbyo, I took out a piece of paper and wrote the names of all 208 bones in the human body, for fun. Possibly the greatest moment in my life.
cheers, topher.
]]>1) I wrote a “Student’s Guide to SGU” which will be available online from the SGU website in a few weeks (after exams). It’s modest aim is to answer every conceivable question that any prospective or matriculating student could have and to weave that information into a cohesive narrative as we follow our hero through a day at SGU. It falls short of that aim.
2) I lost reelection to Student Government. Apparently, never going to class and burying yourself in the library cuts down on “face time” which is important when people are randomly picking names and yours fails to ring that bell. Kissing babies is also important.
3) I now spell color colour and flavor flavour. Nothing you can do about it. My British professors also say “skel eeee tull”. See if you can figure what THAT is in english.
4) The responses from my last email where halarious. Thanks to everyone that took the time. To those that couldn’t tell if I was serious about everything that I wrote, my answer is yes? Special thanks to my sister Honora who offered to FedEx me some Adderol. Halarious.
5) We have a front runner in the “Find a movie that scores a perfect 6 on Topher’s Scale inspired by Starship Troopers” contest. Her name is Jen Suydnam, and she has found a tentative 5/6. Such fabulous prizes await. For those looking to still submit, the criteria are as follows:
1) War
2) Nudity
3) Insects
4) Absence of Nicolas Cage
5) Ninjas
6) and Candy
6) I lost a disgusting bet to my roomate. He contends that they discovered that Diabetes was a sugar disorder by drinking the urine of diabetics and noting its sweet taste. Wow was he right. After the Biochem final, all his drinks are on me for the first hour. I haven’t decided whether or not I’m going to be pee in one of them.
Red Bull gives you wings! Topher.
]]>So school has hit this amazing new level. So before all of this started, I was told that I would be given more information (that I am responsible for) than I could possibly learn with any understanding. So for those keeping score at home, I have decided to know nothing about cobalamin or the cutaneous innervation of the leg. I have completely abandoned Embryology. Sorry, little fetus.
My body is ruled by caffeine and my mind doesn’t care if my body is awake or not. For example: I looked at slides of something today.
Members of my class have PICKED UP smoking. A small black market for adderol and ritalin has emerged. I just spaced out for a couple minutes there. Just now.
I have notes written all over my hands. Some of them are smeared against my cheek. Now wait, Zygomatic bone. See, you see?! I have to squeeze that sort of crap in every chance I get for retention’s sake.
That caffeine from before? interferes with phosphodiesterase which would normally help degrade cAMP and halt the action of PKA, which may or may not be stimulated by the epinephrine and glucagon in my system. Now if I had sugar in my coffee, that would change everything, because that would trigger insulin release which is the evil twin of glucagon, and they would fight over the soul that governs whether or not my body is making or breaking things. What are those things? Ask me when you see me and I’ll lecture on them.
At least once a day now, I sit there and realize that I could quit at any time. All the stress, all the work and knowing and not knowing would all just float away. I could be free. Freedom tastes like strawberries, I have decided.
Ok, so things are not nearly as bleak as all of that nonsense above would suggest, but it is a real part of everyone’s experience of medical school and pressure in general. It is also the first time I’ve been in the vice-grip of pressure for more than a few minutes and has taken a lot of used-to-getting. Everyone wish me luck, it’s all over in three weeks and I get to come home.
topher.
]]>In biochemistry I’m learning that sugar is pretty important. You can do a lot of things with it like store that sugar, eat that sugar, make sugar from scratch, and fail biochem.
The stangest thing about medical school so far is how many ways we are taught to kill someone. And not just that, but EXACTLY how it kills you and what part of what thing a poison tweeks in what way. Arsenic, Cyanide, Malonate, Rotenone, Oligomycin, Fluoroacetate. Quiz me I dare you. Yes I know I didn’t punctuate that.
The nerve and artery that supply your perineum (your nethers) are called “pudendals”. Pudendum means “ashamed” in Latin. Am I the only person that finds this hilarious?
Tickets have been bought and here’s my schedule:
GND to STL on June 8th
STL to Prague July 5th (arriving the 6th)
Prague to STL July 30th (arriving the 31st)
STL to GND on August 2nd
Prague you say? I’m taking a selective that places me in Prague for a little under a month. While there I get to shadow physicians, learn how to take histories and physicals, experience nationalized/socialized medicine in a country that was COMMUNIST a few years ago, and buy a nice wife.
The selective actually doesn’t start until the 11th. This means that I have 4 days to travel Prague, but I’m not staying in Prague. On Saturday, July 9th, Berlin throws the LOVE PARADE, an all day techno/rave in the streets of Berlin that attracted 1.3 million people in 2003. The plan is to pass out on the train back to Prague on Sunday morning in time to make it to our mandatory check in at 3:00pm. Place your bets now.
Each weekend during the selective we’re hitting up a different city. Yes Amsterdam. Maybe Vienna, but probably not Vienna. If any of my more traveled readers has suggestions, go for it: suggest. Try to keep it Soviet Bloc.
So remember all that work I was doing for SANDBLAST? Well it’s 9am here and I have to start setting up. I’ll finish this later…
If I was a better writter, I might be able to capture how bad I feel. Right now, you’ll just have to settle for “profound ouch-throb”. When I stopped writing at 9am, I went upstairs to corral the 1300 jello shots we made. There were toasts; how many I don’t remember. I had a vegetarian breakfast burrito at 10am, then the work came. I wrote previously about a massive sundial mosaic on the beach that took five people four hours to half-clear. Maintainance or some such was supposed to finish the job this week so that it could be used as a stage. To no one’s surprise, that failed to happen. So in the middle of carrying ice and setting up beerpong tables and moving crates and crates of alcohol, I was pulled to finish the job. I enlisted six other people, got shovels and makeshift wheelbarrows (happy Rochelle?), and went to work like somebody was paying me (no one was paying me). We cleared it in less than an hour.
After that was the bartender meeting. This is the stage in the day where everyone is excited to bartend and thinks it’ll be great. When I look back on my life and contemplate bad moves… We took a break at noon to enjoy the Slip-n-Slide. Actually, it’s dishonest to use a brand name. We took a break to enjoy the 130′ sheet of tarp with soap all over it. Megha ran, jumped UP and fell DOWN. Gravity came as a shock to her elbows, knees and face. High comedy is having a running start longer than your actual slide. Kudos to you Megha, kudos.
Behind the bar we started naming our arms. Dr. Al Dehyde, The Octogon (watch Anchorman for that joke), Ferrari, La Tigra. I went with Magnum and Blue Steel. Oh what fun we had before people came. Our pitboss left at 1pm. We will call this zero hour. By 2pm, there were more than 300 people with the thirst. Have you ever seen Starship Troopers? The scene where the Mormon outpost on Klindathu gets attacked by thousands upon thousands of Arachnids, overpowering the infantry forcing a retreat that heart-brakingly claimes the life of Diz? It wasn’t THAT bad, but barely.
***As an aside, I have a working theory that Starship Troopers is one of the greatest movies of all time. The six criteria are
1. insects
2. war
3. nudity
4. Absence of Nicolas Cage
5. candy
6. and ninjas
Starship Troopers scores a solid 4. ConAir scores a 0. I have yet to find a perfect 6. No Jason, I will not consider anime because that isn’t real nudity.***
With the absence of a pitboss we were running out of ice, beer, liquor, cups, we were running out of “bar”. The reserves were, in a brilliant move, kept under lock and key 100 feet from us. Who had the key? Pitboss. Too much brilliance in one place! So I became the pitboss, shuttling (like so much malate and aspartate) supplies back and forth, cleaning up hundreds of empty bottles and yelling at people to clear a path CLEAR A PATH! And it really didn’t matter to the mob that I was not serving drinks. “Topher! TOPHER! Tropher! Tober! I need two Pitons and a Heineken!” Kill yourself. “Hey man, I VOTED for you!” And we will all note the use of the past tense.
I got to leave the bar at 4pm to jugde the hot body contest. Jealous? People just weren’t drunk enough to get in line to be judged, so we poured liquid courage down a few throats and things were on their way (God bless Nature’s social lubricant). Now in the Men’s Division we had your token bodybuilders that thought this was a serious contest and forgot that the three judges were all guys. As required by Natural Law, muscle and rhythm were inversely proportional and Hanz, Franz were laughed off stage. Then came Phil. Phil had the good sense to be incredibly obese and have fun with it, winning in a landslide. Oh how the women swooned. I must find a picture of Phil.
The Women’s Division was another beast all together. A few thought they were pole strippers, a few thought this was a dancing contest, and a few thought they just had to get on stage and “be hot”. As each contestant came up and panicked at the size of the crowd (we’re at 500 easy) they would look around until they found Jeremiah or me and proceed to reduce us to said pole. Jealous? Girls also heckled other girls. This comes as zero suprise to my female readers but gets me everytime. With great comuppance, we pulled the hecklers from the crowd and made them for all to see and boo. Yes, we were taking too seriously our titles of “JUDGE”. Nobody remembers who won, though in true Spring Break Fashion there were a hundred or so cameras at the ready.
And back to the bar (which was hell and had been nicknamed “Ivan” at this point) where we’re out of everything except warm Sprite, water, and the truly pissed-off. I’m desperately trying to find more beer in the bottom of the ice tubs and coming up with glass shards and blood. Good Times! I looked to Kelly and said, “I’m going to my room to sleep for a half hour. Don’t bother me before then; I’m feeling stabby.” That was a good three hours.
Just in time to wake up, get dressed and go to The Aquarium for the after party. So exhausted still that I walked onto the beach and started salivating over the boulders. Couldn’t find anything harder than V-sandals. I need a bumper sticker that says “I pine for granite”. Walked around being social for the next three hours as people kept commenting on how haggard I looked. “No I’m not drunk, I’m just tired from spending all day drinking.” Which was true.
Aquarium ended at 2am and off to Bananas with a busload of Indians. If anyone is looking to develop a useful skill, come to an island and refuse to pay for anything. Haggling should be in the Olympics with (A) a quoted price, (B) the actual cost, and (C) the bottom line at which the vendor gets so pissed that he RAISES (A). These are the things I think about when getting out of cover fees.
Inside my friend Jester is dancing with the club as a whole and removing his shirt at random intervels to really hammer home that he is the best dancer in the place. Peed myself. Once again, the smallest most unassuming girls are the craziest dancers. I’m not sure who sees this comming, but it is never me. It’s Nana from Ghana’s birthday and she pays me the following compliment: “You’re the only white guy I’ll dance with.” I completely deny blushing.
I’m in bed at 5am and proceed to dream all night about water and food; the last time I ate was the last time I wrote about it: 10am.
Profound Ouch Throb.
So what did I learn? Bartending sucks–tip your bartender. You have no idea who has been waiting the longest, so it’s okay to yell at your bartender (just don’t be a jerk about it). Regardless of how many times I’ve been skipped, the second I got behind the bar I served girls twice as often as I did guys. People will look at your hands and wonder if you were in a knife fight. You will piss people off no matter what you do. And Ipecac is the most perfectly named thing ever.
P.S. if you google “Fascia Lata” you can call me a liar; your “nethers” are your external genitalia; Ferrari, LaTigra, Magnum and Blue Steel are Zoolander references; Rochelle made fun of me last time for spelling it ‘wheelbarrel’; “malate and aspartate” are part of a shuttle-sytem in the cell that makes me a huge nerd; V-sandals is a climbing joke; the “I’m not drunk, I’m just tired..” line is stolen from The Family Guy tv show to which I owe so much.
P.P.S Anyone that comes up with a movie that scores a 6 will get a wonderful suprise souvenir from the island of GND. My mother will get one because it’s her birthday soon and she thinks I’ll forget, which I may still.
]]>***How responsible am I these days? I was invited to GQ’s 25th anniversary party at LaLuna (read nicest place I’ve ever seen) tonight and didn’t go. That’s the level of commitment here. Also, how stupid am I these days?***
The library is closing and we’re heading to Street Meat. Streat Meat is exactly what it sounds like: a bunch of guys on the side of the road cooking barbeque, selling beer and drinking Grenadian Moonshine. They have this in every country I hear. Biochemistry tidbit: the reason you don’t want to drink moonshine is that it gets converted into formaldehyde in your body. Formaldehyde is what is preserving my cadaver right now. Bad news.
Day 2 of studython: losing focus. To pass the time my friends and I have divided the class into grasshoppers and ants (if you haven’t read that parable, go read that parable). The grasshoppers started off ok, but now they’re walking faster than everyone else and asking so many questions about the material that you wonder how they’re learning anything. They stalk the rows asking everyone if they have last year’s exam or a Board Review Series book. They copy other people’s notes. By Day 3 the ants are so tired of being bothered that a mass migration occurs to the third floor. But damn those pheremone trails, they’ve found us again by dinner. Despite the general panic, confidence is high in our class for the biochemistry final tomorrow.
Exam is stout but fair. The ants are checking the posted answers against their spare scantrons and feeling alright. The grasshoppers are not checking their scores at all. Wait for it. Wait for it. And they crack.
It’s Day 4 and Embryology is tomorrow. Despite how bad people were cut by Biochem, they ain’t got time to bleed. Easter break is over now and the library is PACKED. It gets this bad: people are carrying chairs from other floors WITH THEM on smoke breaks to prevent thieving. I know it’s not a word. Embryology is two credits out of eighteen and few have taken it seriously. Here’s the thing: conceptualizing how a zygote goes from ball of cells to hideous monster to slimy baby is time consuming; you really can’t cram it in. Embryo is also the class that gave us such gems as syncytiotropholast and extrahepatic biliary atresia. At this point in the week people are actually losing their minds. One girl started laughing hysterically in the middle of the second floor and had to be brought outside by her friends. Another bought 8 redbulls at 9pm. Yes, for herself. My study group is bunkered in a private room with a desk behind the door.
Someone walks out of Embryo and asks to no one inparticular, “Was that the easiest test you ever took or what?” He got strange looks from a few people who knew better. He ended up passing by a question. Little note: a number of medical schools have HighPass, Pass, and Fail as grades. We have A, B, C, and F (so if you barely pass they really see it). We also have a program called Decel: If you have a GPA under 2.25 after midterms, you drop two of your classes and fall a term behind. At this point, people are trying to figure out wether they are dropping Biochem and Histo, or Anatomy and Embryo. Historically, 1/3 of the class Decels at midterms with the option open until the day of finals. We have all night and all of Thursday to study for Histology and things play out as they have all week, leaving the weekend open to study for Anatomy. Anatomy is an incredible course and really the first time most of us began to realize how dumb we are. For instance, I had no idea how small my lungs and heart were or where my stomach was located (grammar police?). So that the professors could prepare the cadavers for the “identify this” portion of our exam, the lab had to be closed a day before. That last night of availability, students were everywhere poking through other people’s bodies and interrupting review groups. Walking around, you could hear wrong answers everywhere.
STRANGEST THING HAPPENS: Library is dead Sunday night. Arguably our hardest exam is tomorrow and the place is EMPTY! We are beside ourselves. There isn’t a grasshopper in the building. We all get together in the middle of the floor and have one large open review where we ask any question we want and get the right answer. It’s fantastic and, more than that, fun. Everyone is happy with how they preform the next day. Out at dinner I see Morgan Freeman and say “hello”. Much smaller in person.
So that was midterms. Feeling the anticlimax a bit and missing the high of studying. This weekend a number of people are flying to Barbados, Margarita or Trinidad to live it up and keep the party going.
***How responsible am I these days? I was invited to Barbados this weekend for a surfing trip and am not going. That’s the level of commitment here. Also, how stupid am I these days?***
Very stupid, topher.
]]>If I controlled the world, I would just walk into every business with a typewriter. A very noisy typewriter. And anyone who felt the need to ask a stressed out student to type a personal letter would get to HEAR ME TYPE IT IN YOUR FACE!
More fun things about SGA: people complain to you constantly. People complain that you’re no fun to complain to. The professors want your cell number and call you to pitch ideas for the class. This segues nicely into Biochem, were I’m learning about cyanide.
Kelly (a white african american with a girl’s name) and his roomate Sam (just plain old white) were giggling all week waiting for their spear guns to come in. Spear gun fishing is illegal here with a penalty of 8000EC (the value of a nice car). They just don’t care. They came back yesterday lobster red, grinning, with no fish. What did they do? Speared the sand, a lot. “Topher, you don’t know. It’s so cool just to watch it stab the water!” Once again, the future doctors of America.
Action movies have been completely ruined for me. Just so everyone knows, if you got shot in the shoulder, your life is ruined. Shot in the chest, life ruined. Your body is so packed with important stuff that if there WAS extra room anywhere, we would all probably have another organ to fill the space, just so you couldn’t get shot there either. Ever laugh when someone gets killed in a Japanese flick by a single arrow? Don’t laugh; that guy is really dead.
still studying, topher.
]]>I’ll take a sanity break sometime this week for an hour and try to write.
I have done a poor job of responding to personal emails from everyone. So this week I’ll make this promise: if you write something to me, I will personally respond.
Actual overheard exchange:
Guy #1) I am so burnt out from studying.
Guy #2) (immediately) You should drink, a lot.
Guy #1) I can’t. I’m too far behind.
Guy #2) (immediately) Got to. How do you put out a fire? Liquid. So do the same to your brain. You’re burnt out? Alcohol. Stop that fire.
Guy #1) (thoughtful pause) Screw it, let’s go.
Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the future doctors of America.
topher
]]>My slackline CONSISTED of three ribbons of webing (two ten feet sections and one forty footer) and three caribiners. It now consists of three ribbons coiled at the base of my bed. That’s right, someone STOLE the defensless carabiners. I have yet to get new ones from a fishing shop here.
A full bottle of light or dark rum costs 10EC/$4. A rum and coke at a bar costs 14.5EC. An ENOURMOUS bean burrito with lettuce, rice, tomato, onion and cheese costs 10EC. A ceaser salad without chicken (that could fit on a tea saucer) costs 15EC. A 2lb. banana shake costs 5EC when a glass of fruit juice costs 3EC. Basically, Grenadians charge on inconvenience and size, not expense to them. That banana shake is a pain to make because Mr. Green Jeans doesn’t own a blender; I can hear him hammering away behind the wall. The fruit juice costs nothing to make and is easy to serve but it’s in the same size cup, so he feels compelled to charge a similar price. Ditto for the salad and burrito: No one wants to shake the salad. The bars operates on this idea: you’ll probably pay a huge pice for something because you’re American, and when you’re drinking you’re not in the mood to perform currency conversions. Also, EC looks like Monopoly money and we spend it as such. Also, there is no dollar bill here. They have 5, 10, 20, 50, 100, 500, 1000. I think we are ridiculous people for holding onto the $1. Give Sacajaweea a chance (I know, I know).
Typical day (unless you’re my Mom, feel free to skip this):
Go to school at 7am for bagel and coffee. The bagels here are funny. I imagine some frenchman came over and started making croissants. Someone asked him to make a bagel, and he just bent the croissant around, faking it. We haven’t decided whether to call them Cragels or Boissants. It’s like cruck and trar, there may never be a consensus. While I’m enjoying my breakfast I watch my Histology teacher, Mr. Paparo, fight off the devil. This man walks out onto the basketball courts below, puts on his headphones, and morphs into a maniac, maniac, on the dancefloor. Here goes: turn yourself around using ten stuttersteps, glide around the court punching randomly at gnats and make sure to roll your head on your shoulders every now and then. Now speed that up 5x and be COMPLETELY into it. All of orientation should consist of a video of this. Not kidding at all.
I walk up the hill either to Anatomy Lab and cut people for a few hours, Histo Lab to look at slides, or Living Anatomy where I get to “play doctor” ( I mean this in the 7-year-old parent-heart attack way). I’m out by noon and go to Mrs. Patel for Indian food, then lecture from 1-5. On days that end in “-sday” I skip lecture and go to the beach. Something about that “s” rubs me the wrong way. Would you like to know what the water feels like? When you walk in, there isn’t that little OOPS when your hips drop in, you just glide through it. And it tastes nasty, like salt.
I have no climbing here, so I jump onto everything and just hang. I have people push my hips everywhichway and then I try to stay myself. I can now hang from a round or flat surface for one whole minute from both hands. For those who don’t climb, this is like the coolest thing ever for serious. Very close to the one-arm pullup with either.
I listen to Interpol “Bring out the Bright Lights” constantly. Yes right now.
I study harder than anyone I know, which is awesome, because then people come up and ask me to explain our Nervous System or Placental Folding and I get to teach it, which is better than studying in the first place. I did very well on the Unified Quiz. Midterm’s in three weeks.
The weekend is three straight hours of beach, lunch, hour siesta, campus to study for six or seven hours, dinner, then dancing and incessant flirting. Nanda was one of the first friends I made here. He used to teach Latin and Salsa. He had an apt, and now a very happy, pupil.
I have included pictures this time. One is of Mrs. Green Jeans, wife to Mr., one is where I eat and stare at the beach, another is the sundisk from an earlier email, one is of my room, and the others are people I know.
Cheers, topher.
]]>I was elected to student government along with ten other first-termers. No other class has that many representatives. Here’s what we did:
Three days after we became reps, we joined the reps from each term to vote on chairs and co-chairs of various committees. We snooped around a little and discovered that first-termers rarely get the good posts. So screw that. A half hour before the general meeting, all 11 of us got together and figured out which post each of us wanted. We designated certain members to nominate others. We also decided to nominate members of other terms to compete with our hopefulls to crowd the field. We then voted as a block to win largest minority vote and the chair. People were freaking out. By the time the general assembly figured us out, they weren’t organized enough to stop it. Politics, it’s FANNNNNTASTIC. I would like to give props to The West Wing.
I’m chair of the Orientation Committee, and we also control Student Resources, Disciplinary Panel, Campus Housing, and Food/Sanitation. The current leadership is very nervous.
We have a unified quiz on Monday. It’s an hour long quiz containg questions from all five courses designed to let us know that we know nothing. People are studying for it like it’s a final. Very funny. What am I doing? Studying like it’s a final, but at least I recognize that I am ridiculous for it.
I found out that the name for the pinky finger is “minimi”, for the middle finger it’s “vulgaris”, and that a fetus breathes its own pee for five months. There is a taint bone and it is called the pubic symphysis. My medical dictionary under pronounciation guidlines says “‘a’ as in ‘abortion'”. I can spell and pronounce syncytiotrophoblasts. If you want an American-style haircut, you can go to two people: Hot Boyz or Mr. Bubbles. I chose Mr. Bubbles. Yes, I asked him. Passport says Jean Bubbles, go figure.
I noticed for the first time that Grenada has no stop signs, no speed bumps, and no street lights. Instead they have roundabouts, pot holes, and accidents.
I like medical school.
P.S. When I was nominated for Orientation, they wrote my name on the board: Tolbert. People are calling me Tolbert, giggling.
Cheers, Tolbert.
]]>Here’s what I said:
For those who don’t know me, let’s get aquainted:
I was the guy in Anatomy Lab
that got scalpel happy and cut out a slab
going through muscle that I swore was flab
and ended at ribs, less a cut than a stab.
And you may have heard there’s this guy at Grand Anse
who throws up a tightrope at his every chance
hops up onto it and then strikes the stance
of some crazy epileptic circus dance
Well that guy is me. I’m running with Jester.
Some call me “T.O.E.F.L.”, Meg call me “Toaster”
So please when you’re thinking,”Who should I vote for?”
Go find my name and cast your vote for Topher.
I then held the mic at arms length and let it fall to the floor, affecting the machismo of today’s current rappers (thinking of you, Corabi). As it bounced, the timer started beeping: exactly 30 seconds.
So, two things: first, the crowd didn’t get that it was a poem until the second stanza. This turned into a compliment later. Second, the other candidates were shocked (the other speeches didn’t ryhme) and everyone applauded.
For the inside jokes of that poem, here goes. So in my last letter when I wrote about wanting the scalpel, well they gave it to me and I cut deeply. I ended up cutting the origins for the superficial back muscles (which didn’t matter as we would do that in two days). The professor had some fun at my expense next lecture, so our entire class knew about the incident but not who was responsible. Jester and Meg are good friends of mine that are also running. The TOEFL is the Test Of English as a Foreign Language. In fact, some thought was given to making shirts that said “Vote for TOEFL, he speaks English”. It died in committee. Election results in next issue.
Other news: I’m beet red again and for good cause. When Ivan blasted the island, it did a number on the beaches, so Grand Anse beach is thirty feet shorter than normal and the cline is steeper than you’d expect. Today, two of my friends felt something hard underneath their blankets. It turned out to be some type of mosaic. They did some digging and discovered that it was enourmous and deeply buried. So we got to work uncovering this huge thing. It is 30′ in diameter and underneath .5′-2.5′ of sand from front to back. First by hand, then trash can, then shovel and finally by make-shift wheelbarrel (a grocery cart with a trashbag-lined bottom) we uncovered over half of the disk. The locals had forgotten it was there. So imagine alternating pie-cuts of green and white mosiac radiating from a red-shell center to affect the sun. It was and is again a dancefloor for beach parties.
Our work was cut short when our makeshift wheelbarrel collapsed under the load of sand. We said a few words and then took showers. Returning for lunch, we noticed a construction crew a few meters away with a sump pump. They were pulling saltwater away from their site and sending it back out to sea, to waste. With their permission, we pulled the nose over to our project and washed the floor clean. There remains a third of work left in the back and it will be very hard to finish, but we hope to have it licked by the end of next week. Celebrations will be had, pictures taken.
Never coming back, topher.
P.S. Some white crab came into my room through the porch and I freaked out like a schoolgirl. In case it ever happens to any of you, here’s what you do.
1) Tell no one. They will joke that you have crabs. Learned this the hard way.
2) Chase it into a corner and cluster bomb it with three tshirts.
3) Throw kit and kaboodle outside.
4) Brag to girls about how you handled the crab problem or, alternately, follow step one.
Anna, this is to make up fo that last paragraph. So I’ve met this girl Nana from Ghana (don’t laugh, everyone is called Nana in Ghana). I told her all of the stories that I could remember you telling me (mimicing mannerisms and all), she laughed a lot, and I have parlayed it into a friendship with her. Jealous? She’s great, absolutely statuesque, and is already being affected by the “thin model” image that all the American girls on the island have. Oh by the way, the girls here look like models. Jealous?
So I’m studying every day for about seven hours. It isn’t that the material is too hard, just that you only get that one day to learn it, so every day feels like studying for a test. I am not yet working as hard as the all the graduate students back home, but I’m told it gets worse. I absolutely love Anatomy and go into the lab to work by myself for hours just cleaning things up. Then when lab proper rolls around, there is little left to do and I can study while the girls in my group second guess their third guesses. Incidently, I am told that I am overstudying and overworking most of the material.
My hands are falling apart. It is quite depressing. I try to squeeze my pencil really hard to preserve the callouses, but alas. I’ve tried to give the beach an hour every other day, and am know a third degree brown belt (difference between brown and blinding white at belt). Kudos, by the way, to everyone who admitted not getting the YMOTANA joke, all ten of you.
Some of you asked about my teachers and why I thought they were so great. One of them was a Noble Prize nominee in Biology a few years back. Another, Dr. TVN Persaud wrote an Embryology book that is used by 60% of US med students, is in its fourth edition and translated into 13 languages. He also wrote six other medical texts for Indian Med students and is treated as a celebrity there (people routinely have him sign their books and have their pictures taken with him). The entire Anatomy faculty sits for every Anatomist’s lecture so that they can get better as a group. And almost all of them are British, just making it more fun to listen to them.
Favorite word so far: toss up between descending branch of transverse cervical artery and DiPhosphotidylglycerol. Still working on the pictures.
All is well, topher.
]]>The green flash happens at the equator when the sun sets. You’ll never see it if you are too north or south. They do have cups in Grenada, but juice is sometimes poured into bags and then twisted off at the top. You then take a straw (cut in half at an angle) and stab into the bag to drink. Pretty sure Capri copied this idea.
YMOTANA is a joke. My ANATOMY book left its print on my desk because it is so hot here (my brother didn’t get it).
Update on ICSA: I joined and ran for a position on this platform: I want to have many brown babies. I didn’t win, but made some friends who think I’m silly now. Joke’s on them though. All of my white friends are forming the splinter group WICSA for Windians and then staging a coup. Give us about two terms.
All for now, topher.
]]>All of the buildings are painted like Easter eggs. Birds routinely fly from horizon to horizon without flapping their wings. There is always a breeze. Store owners ask your name the second time they see you and remember it everytime after that. We have a lot of climbers, Ghanans, Nigerians, Russians, Canadians, Trinidad people?, and Indians. Oh wow the Indians! They outnumber everyone else. My friends are making me join ICSA (Indian Culture Student Association) once I get tan enough.
I am one of 350 students in my class. With some luck, I could get into student government. “Topher” is a popular name here. “Tightrope guy” also works well. And yes, I have an insufferable accent now. I expect no one from home will want to talk to me again.
burning because he is an idiot, topher.
P.S. The mosquitos are lazy here. You can almost pet them.
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