The Past Year In A Medical College
First off, I just want to say that I’m extremely thankful to be at a point where I am right now. This post is not me being an ungrateful pig. Life in a medical college has always filled the pages of my journals from yester-years and it’s literally a dream come true.
This dream of mine has thrown in a couple of triumphs and some tests all the same. This post is going to take you and I along some of those tests. Again, I’m not complaining so just take it on a light note.
First day at the hospital:
My first day at the hospital, we were asked to choose a cabin to stand and observe. I chose a cabin where the patient had tuberculosis and didn’t know of it himself and this particular detail drove the attending doctor up the wall because of the lack of proper screening the person had undergone before. Already pissed off at our government for this, his eyes fell on four students (Myself included) with backpacks like school children and no stethoscopes (A criminal offence in the hospital.)
The first round of yelling was because we looked worse than his four-year-old school going son. Next, we were yelled at for not having stethoscopes because like I said, criminal offence. Next, we were yelled at because we didn’t know enough about Tuberculosis. Next, we were yelled at for not knowing what and where in our hospital DOTS was. Next, we were yelled at for just simply existing. That first day was the longest day I can remember, a far cry from our first year. Wasn’t the introduction I had imagined.
Case taking at 9 in the night:
For the first two months of my 2nd year, I was put under the Medicine department. The special thing about the unit that I was under was, every Wednesday each of us would have to present a case in front of the unit head, a patient, his/her family, a couple other doctors and my classmates (And half the country) Good times
On the same evening that I had a dance competition, I learnt that the person whose case I was ready with for presenting the next day (A Wednesday) was going to be discharged. This meant that if he was going home, I might as well go home too since I didn’t have a case to present in front of the head doctor the next day. (That was as good as being dead for me.)
So, to save face, I grabbed my friend at 9 in the night and ran back to the hospital just to poke and prod around a person so she could give me enough history that would save my ass the next day.
If it wasn’t for the mad adrenaline surging through my veins after just getting off stage and taking off, I would have probably sat and whined about what had happened and put the case taking off for the next day. However, if I had done that, I wouldn’t have made a lasting memory.
Spoiler: I still got yelled at the next day.
Got sent to the deans office:
On our investiture ceremony, the dean of our college had mentioned in his welcoming speech that he had never gone to the deans office when he was in medical school himself. This particular detail of his speech although a fabulous one, has literally ruined a good month of last year for me, thanks to my mom who kept reminding me of it.
I was never the kid that got sent to the principal’s office because of bad behavior but like all good things come to an end, I got sent to the dean’s office twice in less than a month last year. Before you jump into conclusions about my behavior, you’ve got to let me explain myself.
First time I went in was because I sat in another class of the same subject. In my defense, I was still learning something, just that I was in the wrong class. On purpose. Just to get sent back early. Okay, I have no defense.
Second time was because I didn’t show up to a morning class since I had to study for an exam I had on the same day. In my defense, I was still learning, just that half my class decided to stay back and I got caught in a case of ‘mass bunking’ (Criminal offence Dos.)
I say that we can’t really hold me accountable because I was learning both times. I rest my case there.
The color green has suddenly become one of my favorite colors after college. I’m convinced that the average medical student’s brain doesn’t register words on your mark-sheet. They only register colors. Green= cry and roll on the floor because you made it to the next year. Red= Walk through fire once again.
But luckily, we’re all in this together so, that’s a positive.
I’ve learnt that there are two types of teachers conducting vivas-
Teacher A: Tell you don’t know if you don’t know. Don’t make stuff up.
Teacher B: Tell something atleast. Don’t sit like you’re stupid. Tell what you know.
The problem comes when you’re on the spot and you have no idea which teacher you’re dealing with. Either way, you need to be prepared to get yelled at regardless of whether you know or don’t know (Unless you’re the super kid in class. If you are, then this is not for you.)
Bonus teacher A: Talks so loudly that everyone outside the viva room knows that you’re stupid.
Bonus teacher B: Talks so softly that you can’t hear the question and if you ask for her to repeat it, she’ll just smile and say ‘Tell you don’t know.’
I obviously love what I’m doing, don’t get me wrong. This was just for the laughs. If I were to make a post on the triumphs and the good stuff, I’d have to write half a book on it. (I’m seriously looking at a probable autobiography here. Don’t get too excited.)
As always, thanks for reading 🙂