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The cafeteria is packed with clinical years students. I guess it's their test day. Bits of conversation, case studies and diagnoses fly over my head. They all look the say way - I can't describe the contrast - but I liken their demenor to that of soldiers returning from war. I knew some of them beforehand and they are not the same. They project a confidence that we preclinical students have not yet earned. I have cut cadavers - they have cut the living. Maybe that's the difference. I wonder what we'll all be like in 2 years, and will we
notice it?
Friday, December 18, 2009
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Enough...
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Enough with these 4 color pens and ridiculous array of highlighters. Look at yourselves - have you no self respect? Your 4-color pens spew noise pollution about as much as your highlighters emit neurotoxic fumes, which defeats the entire purpose of your studying. You ruin perfectly good books, shame your professors, and disrupt the sanctity of the library. You embarrass the School of Medicine, our noble profession, and your Jewish/Asian/Jewasian parents. It's never too late to change, you just have to realize you have a coloration
obsession.
Start by picking a color. Do it now.
This baby is all I need. Zebra F-301 ballpoint, 7mm blue refill. Stainless steel, beeeeeatch.
Enough with these 4 color pens and ridiculous array of highlighters. Look at yourselves - have you no self respect? Your 4-color pens spew noise pollution about as much as your highlighters emit neurotoxic fumes, which defeats the entire purpose of your studying. You ruin perfectly good books, shame your professors, and disrupt the sanctity of the library. You embarrass the School of Medicine, our noble profession, and your Jewish/Asian/Jewasian parents. It's never too late to change, you just have to realize you have a coloration
obsession.
Start by picking a color. Do it now.
This baby is all I need. Zebra F-301 ballpoint, 7mm blue refill. Stainless steel, beeeeeatch.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
'Tis the season for mutual suffering
(Facebook users, open Blogger page)
A cauldron of calamity - A melting pot of angst and insomnia. This place is the water just before the boil, perspiring with nervous energy. Seasons greetings from New York Medical College:
Oops, let me flip that around:
That's more like it!
Third and fourth year students haunt the campus like ghosts in their white coats. They are hardly ever seen, but we know they're here. They have to be - or what are we all here for?
The cafeteria is packed with discussion and the whirr of machines and microwaves. The student fridge bursts with the cuisine of the young. Med students scribble away on whiteboards in the mods. No one else is allowed, and first years must mind what floor they occupy. When the library closes at midnight - I know not where the exiled students will go.
I love the chaos. But not the work.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Catch
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Catch:
Was said in black
The words he threw
She hit them back
He cried
He volleyed
He knew
She lied.
I think I wrote this in O-chem lecture a few years ago.
And in unrelated news, if my calculations are correct, I have reached the "point of no failure" for the block. That is, so long as I get >60% in my remaining exams then I cannot fail the block. And grades are basically pass/fail. That's a nice feeling!
Regardless, I still have to know my anatomy for the boards and for medical practice. No slacking, no whining. No surrender!
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