OSCEs, among other things

I am sick again. Last night was terrible: sniffles, aches, 101F fever, chills, joint pain whichever side I lay on, restlessness. Yuck. I have crashed on the couch with my syllabus, computer, pens and highlighters, and all that other random junk that tends to accumulate around the sick and bedridden: tissues, empty bowls, dirty spoons, gatorade bottles. Andrew is not feeling well either.

I decided to take a break from learning about rickettsia to write a quick update post. And, for my male readers, there will be no fashion in this one :).

I have received all but one grade for MS2. Barring an epic academic meltdown, I will be moving on to MS3 after two exams and the Step 1. I also took a practice exam that is supposed to predict your Step 1 score, and I passed it. That was encouraging.

Last weekend I took the OSCE's. Not sure what that acronym stands for, but it is essentially a test of my physical exam and history taking skills. I had ten standardized patients, ten minutes to do a history and physical, then five minutes to write a note on them. It was a whirlwind two and a half hours! However stressful it was, I found myself enjoying it. It was how I imagine speed dating must be like, except my dates were dressed in hospital gowns and I was looking in their eyes and poking them with my stethoscope. And diagnosing them with spontaneous pneumothorax, kidney stones, stable angina, gonorrhea, ear canal obstruction, hepatitis, cerebellar dysfunction and retinopathy. The OSCE patients were all actors, but it was still fun meeting them, and treating them as if their problem the real deal.

Meeting new people is always exciting. You never can predict what a person will be like, or what kind of story they will have to tell. And this past year we interviewed real hospital patients. I got to meet psych patients with schizophrenia, and cancer patients post-op. I met the nicest opioid addict, and a grandmother with all the chronic problems you could think of, but had a lust for life and such a love for God she was preaching to me from her hospital bed. We visited a nursing home and I interviewed a lady with severe Alzheimers who said she had no family, but when I looked at the wall above her bed it was covered in pictures of her with a handsome elderly man and what could only be her children and grandchildren. It was heartbreaking.

I know that they work us to death during third year. I've heard it's very easy to dehumanize everyone as a defense mechanism: whether because you're tired or it's yet another homeless person with the DT's or the situation is just too painful. I hope and pray to have the strength to take that little second to remind myself every time, this is a person. Hello, fellow human being. I'm your doctor today. Let's get you feeling better.

Anyway, that's all I have for now. I am excited and nervous and so hopeful for MS3. I am looking forward to experiencing the range of humanity in all its beautiful brokenness...