hurting people bad, helping people good

Lately I’ve been reading a lot of non-fiction books related to medicine and becoming a doctor. Maybe it’s because I’m excited to go, maybe it’s because I’m bored during these massive months standing between me and going, or maybe it’s because I’m a huge nerd (Physically. I’m around 200lbs.) Whatever the case may be, they are enlightening, enthralling, exhilarating and balls scary. All of them contain some story of the author as an intern or resident fucking something up and a patient experiencing unnecessary pain, unnecessary procedures or unnecessary death. It’s not that they are inept, stupid or careless; it’s that they are human. Fallible, inconsistent, easily influenced humans. Mistakes are inevitable.

This scares the poop right out and into my pants. These honest mistakes, from good doctors, usually result from a comedy of errors where the end result is not so comical. It’s usually a case of information passing through too many hands and a tired overwhelmed intern, resident or attending overlooking or wrongly interpreting something and someone gets hurt as a result. I don’t want to hurt anyone and I’m scared poopless that I will.

Now every time I make a mistake counting my client’s reps or spilling my milk from my cereal bowl, I think, “In a few years, that milk will be someone’s blood. And for some reason I am carrying it in a bowl. And have poured frosted flakes over it. And now I’ve spilled it. And that person really needed me to carry that blood in this bowl with the frosted flakes. And now they are hurt as a result of my careless error.” Man that frightens me.

gyne-what?

A post-op transsexual told me I should go into gynecology because I’m good at talking to and understanding women. I’m not sure how to take that. Also, what an idiot, no I’m not.

secondaries

I just finished my secondary applications which means I’m finally done applying. For those who don’t know how med school apps work, the secondary is a device for the schools to get a bit more information on you, gain some insight into your personality, and net thousands upon thousands of dollars. Each secondary costs anywhere from 50-125 bucks just for the privilege of filling one out. This in and of itself is not unexpected, what is bothersome however, is that there is no cut off between filling out the universal application and the secondary application. Very few schools (2 out of 17 that I applied to) actually look at your primary and make decisions more revealing than, “yes this application exists” . The majority of schools wait for your primary app, your secondary app and your letters of rec before making a selection. So if a school automatically rejects applicants below a 3.5 g.p.a. and you are below that, instead of outright cutting you, they will ask you for a secondary, have you spend hours filling out enthralling questions like, “describe an adverse time in your life and how you got through it” or “what does learning mean to you” and spend upwards of $100 just to be immediately rejected without ever reading a word about your difficult time making friends at theatre camp.

The Idea:

I’m going to medical school. Hopefully. At this point, I don’t actually know that I’m going to medical school, but since I am a decently strong applicant and tried hard not to do stupid things that will count against me (like writing a truthful weblog that details my jaded experience with admissions in open internet space allowing anyone with decent search skills and a job as an admissions committee member to read it), I am fairly certain that I will enter school in 2008. Of course that kid in the middle of the soccer field during the lightning storm holding up his school flag was fairly certain he wasn’t going to get struck by lightning and then BONGO! he got herpes, so you never know. Assuming I do make it into medical school, I plan to use this weblog to document what happens, what doesn’t happen but I imagine happens, and any other thoughts moderately related to medicine that I deem worthy, like motorcycles or tattoos. So without further adieu, here we go. Oh actually just a few further adieus. I plan to keep this truthful but I promise I will exaggerate at some point, so don’t be that douche that’s like, wait a foley catheter couldn’t possibly be that big, yarr!(you know, because you are a pirate douche). I also mean the best of intentions. So if I come off like a dick, know that in practice I am working very hard towards the greater good before you call your lawyer.