Official last day of medicine
This morning we took the shelf exam—it was the most ridiculously hard test I have ever taken in my life. Only one person left before time was called. The pass percentage is determined by the national average—hopefully it will be really, really, low.
Tonight the Christian group is having its welcome barbecue for the new first years. I can remember that when I went to it as a first year I thought the third years were so unbelievably far ahead of me—now I am one, crazy. Afterwards my Bible study group will meet to discuss Daniel 8—I’m going to have to read up in Matthew Henry before I go.
I thought I didn’t have to go to orientation tomorrow until 8, but when I got home I had an email waiting for me that said my residents want to meet the students at 6. I guess it’s a good thing that they want to meet us beforehand, but I am not looking forward to getting up at 4:30. I called the senior resident to find out where to go after orientation, and after telling me just to page him tomorrow when we are done with orientation, he said something about the 2nd year residents being gone for the weekend, and how it was just him on 24 hour call. Before I hung up, he told me to enjoy the weekend (???). Are we seriously going to get the weekend off? That would be unbelievable, and totally not what I expected from surgery! Although really I would just like to get started right away, but I suppose I should enjoy little breaks in my schedule when I can because I sure can’t expect them to come regularly. Of course he might have meant something different, so I will go in expecting to work the weekend.
I also had an email informing third and fourth years that now that the new parking structure is built, we can park in the coveted lot right across from school (which I have craved and longed for for the last two years). The only problem is that the lot we used to park in, while being an absurdly long walk from the school, is actually considerably closer to the hospital. Nuisance. So the first and second years hate the lots they’re in, and want ours, and we kind of want theirs. Oh well, the price of status I suppose (it’s kind of funny, when I walk through school, or go to the library, I am now one of the most senior people—as soon as I enter the hospital I am lowest of the low—weird contrast).
Tonight the Christian group is having its welcome barbecue for the new first years. I can remember that when I went to it as a first year I thought the third years were so unbelievably far ahead of me—now I am one, crazy. Afterwards my Bible study group will meet to discuss Daniel 8—I’m going to have to read up in Matthew Henry before I go.
I thought I didn’t have to go to orientation tomorrow until 8, but when I got home I had an email waiting for me that said my residents want to meet the students at 6. I guess it’s a good thing that they want to meet us beforehand, but I am not looking forward to getting up at 4:30. I called the senior resident to find out where to go after orientation, and after telling me just to page him tomorrow when we are done with orientation, he said something about the 2nd year residents being gone for the weekend, and how it was just him on 24 hour call. Before I hung up, he told me to enjoy the weekend (???). Are we seriously going to get the weekend off? That would be unbelievable, and totally not what I expected from surgery! Although really I would just like to get started right away, but I suppose I should enjoy little breaks in my schedule when I can because I sure can’t expect them to come regularly. Of course he might have meant something different, so I will go in expecting to work the weekend.
I also had an email informing third and fourth years that now that the new parking structure is built, we can park in the coveted lot right across from school (which I have craved and longed for for the last two years). The only problem is that the lot we used to park in, while being an absurdly long walk from the school, is actually considerably closer to the hospital. Nuisance. So the first and second years hate the lots they’re in, and want ours, and we kind of want theirs. Oh well, the price of status I suppose (it’s kind of funny, when I walk through school, or go to the library, I am now one of the most senior people—as soon as I enter the hospital I am lowest of the low—weird contrast).
posted by Chris Emlyn at 2:15 PM
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