History and physical exam

I am starting this blog for myself and any other medical students out there. It's going to be a nasty piece of work, unfortunately, but my intentions are pure. Well, not completely pure. Mostly I am doing this for myself, as a journal of sorts, because I always feel better after telling someone what I'm going through. But part of me is hoping other medical students (or students of any sort) will read this and know that someone else is going through exactly what they are going through.
A little about my journey to get to medical school. I decided in high school that maybe my family was right, I should be a doctor. Sounded like fun, and I could help people, and save people, and blah blah blah. College was a breeze. Sure I studied and worked hard, but I didn't really struggle like I'm struggling now. Not until I started studying for the MCAT. Then I had no clue what was going on. Back in the day when I went to college, the MCAT was only offered twice a year, once in April and once in August. I took the April one my junior year of college, knowing I didn't want to take a year off in between school, I wanted to go straight through and start my life as a doctor. Unfortunately, I suck at standardized tests. I got a 24. Yep, how awesome is that? So I studied again adn took it in August. And got a 25. sweet. I was screwed. And I knew it, but I applied anyway. Needless to say, even with all my extra curricular activities and my straight As from an unknown college and excellent letters of recommendation, I did not get into medical school. And so it went for another two years. I had a blast in those two years, by the way, and for anyone thinking of taking time off between college and grad school, I say hells to the yeah.
Anyway, took the MCAT a third time and finally got a respectable score (a 29, so still not anywhere near my goal), and the univeristy finally decided that I would just keep applying if they didn't let me in and they'd have to keep reading my application every year, so finally they gave in and allowed me to come to medical school. At least that's the way I see it. Maybe had something to do with the fab stuff I did those two years...
Anyway, finally got into medical school, and I was ecstatic. Happiest day of my life. I remember the first day of orientation being terrified, not having a single clue who to sit by or what to do. And I distinctly remember one of the orientation sessions, the director of admissions gave a speech about how in the first year you wonder "did they make a mistake letting me in?" and the second year you wonder about something else and blah blah. But she said "no, we did not make a mistake letting you in. You all deserve to be here."
I think there are three ways to respond to that statement. The first is: hells to the yeah I belong here, I am a rockstar, you are lucky to have me at this school, I'm going to rock this place. Yeah. For those of you out there who respond like that, you're a douche bag. Tone it down a little please. The second is: are you sure? Well I'm glad you said so, because I was wondering about it, but if you say I am, well that's a relief because I guess then I actually do belong here, and now I can relax a bit and calm down. Anxiety attack normal. This is the best way to respond. Then there is the way I responded. It started out with seeing a blaring red sign that said "everyone but YOU." That's how I felt. Like at any second she was going to point to me and say yep, you're the mistake, please leave now. Then it turned into "oh I'll show you. I'll show you that I was a mistake, you'll rue the day you let me in here." That is not a healthy response. But it is how I felt at the time. So full of self doubt, certain a mistake had been made, wondering how I was going to prove myself.
The other session I really remember from orientation was the session when we wrote down our biggest fears about medical school. And I remember wanting to write "I'm afraid I can't do this. I'm afraid I don't know anything, that I won't be smart enough, that I'll fail." But I knew no one else was writing that, so I wrote something like everyone else was "I'm afraid of passing out in anatomy." Because all through orientation we talked about how great we were, and what all we'd done to get where we were, and no one talked about worrying htey weren't cut out for this, or wondering if they made a mistake. Because people in our walk of life do two things: We either are the best at everything, or we tell everyone we are the best at everything. Either way the purpose is to make everyone feel inferior to ourselves. So orientation consists of everyone trying to outdue everyone else, subtly of course, with their accomplishments and how great they are and how confident they are. And it does exactly what it is supposed it. It makes those of us who don't feel so great about ourselves wonder what the hell we were thinking and how the hell we are supposed to do this. But we play the game just as well as anyone else. Everyone thinks I'm calm cool and collected, because that's the face I showed, because that's what I saw in everyone else, and God forbid anyone doubt me or know I doubt myself.
Things got progressively worse from there. Anatomy was a disaster for me. I had no clue what was going on, or how to study, or what to study. It was a shit show, I'm telling you. I remember the second day of class my second year buddy sending me an email introducing herself, welcoming me to medical school, and saying "by the way, if you haven't yet you should head up to the bone room and start memorizing the bones." Second day of school. And I hadn't even cracked a book yet. I spent all of anatomy trying to figure out what the hell was going on and never really learned how to study. I hated every second of it. I hated the lab, the way I smelled after the lab, desecrating someone's body like that, studying before and after. spending my afternoons trapped in there. I hated it, and I struggled so hard in it. Harder than I ever had before, because I didn't know what to study or when to study or why to study or how to study. I had no clue. But I put on my happy face every day, pretended like I knew what was going on, and finally towards the end figured out a system that worked well for me. But it still resulted in me failing the first lab exam.
The best day of medical school still is the day that I was told by a second year that she had failed every lab test and still passed anatomy with the written exam scores. And at first I didn't want to be that person. Sure I'd failed one, but I could pick it up. And I did. I kicked ass in lab for the next two weeks. I knew every bit of that body and everything there was to know about the organ systems. I was teaching other people in the lab. And yet when the lab test came around, I had no clue what was going on. And again, I failed. After all that work, to not have improved by a single point. It was so disheartening. By this point I had about three or four people in school I could talk to, really be open with, about how much I hated anatomy. But I could only say that I hated anatomy, I couldn't really tell anyone that I was struggling, or that I felt helpless and hopeless and lost. Because I couldn't have people see me that way.
That was the day I said fuck it to anatomy. Figured P=MD and I could pass the class without paying attention in lab, and I totally checked out. I think maybe two days out of the last two weeks I actually picked up a scalpel and dissected. I provided comic relief for my group and they let me get away with minimal work.
I passed anatomy with a C+, but at our school it just shows up as a P so it doesn't matter. But I went into the next block with a great attitude. I was so excited, I was going to learn, I was going to excell, I was going to actually be the student I knew I could be. And I was, for one test. I got a 90. Go team. And then the next test I got a 70something, and then I got strep throat and my boyfriend broke up with me. And then I failed the genetics test, but I was okay with that, because I had almost passed and dude I had strep throat, right? So it was okay that I failed, and I ended up passing the class, and went into the next semester ready to rock and roll it and kick some ass and take some names and finally honor a class. Spoiler alert, I did not honor a single block my first two years.
First day of second semester, I got the stomach flu. Next week I had mono. And from that day on, there was not a single day that I made it through the entire day without falling asleep. As a third year I still fall asleep randomly in themiddle of the day.Lectures, conferences, library. I'm asleep. Awesome. I did okay in those classes, but still didn't honor. And then the last block of the year started, and I was so excited because we were finally learning things that mattered to medicine. The heart, lungs, and kidneys. I loved the heart. It is amazing, I could listne to it forever, I love what it does and how it works and everything about it. but apparently I don't understand any of it, because as much as I thought I knew about th eheart, I still only got a C on the test. Are you freaking kidding me? How much do I have to study, how much do I have to learn to be able to do well on a freakin' test? this is how I felt constantly during my first year of medical school. Try as I might, I couldn't do well. Every time I thought something was going to go right for me, something went wrong. And I couldn't take it. But I still, even with my good friend, didn't feel like I could really open up to anyone about how I felt. Every once in awhile I'd have a moment with someone, where I realized that they hated everything as much as I do, and that they felt just as worthless and unsuccessful as I do. And it made me feel better to know that someone else was surviving what I was going through. And I wish I could have had more of that support during the first two years, which is why I'm creating this blog.
So, I passed the first year, barely, and then had a summer off. And my family life at this point was a mess. I hated going home (still lived with the fam), and that contributed to my awful performance in school. And that summer I had all sorts of trouble with insomnia and depression. But I just plugged on through it and moved into the second year.
I thought second year was going ot be so great. We started with neurology. And it seemed so interesting. It still is interesting. But it is very anatomy based, and I did not get that, and so I was lost the entire time. The entire time. It is a block that 50% of the class honors, but I sure as hell did not. And it was frustrating, to think I knew all this stuff but really had no clue. and on top of that I still had my stupid ass family drama to deal with, AND I'd gotten my heart broken by yet another stupid boy (no offense boys). But I pulled through neuro, which everyone loved but me. I hated it. Not because it wasn't a well run block, it was, and not because it wasn't interesting. But because I couldn't figure it out. I didn't know how to sutdy for it, and I felt like I was the only one struggling through it. But I made it.
Then we started the digestive system/metabolic system/biochemistry course, and I was sure I was going to do well. Nope, failed the first test. I was mortified. But, if there is one thing I'm good at, it is picking myself up when I fall down. Apparently only to be pushed down harder, because I failed the second test too. So now here I am, a second year medical student, failing a block. And how the hll am I supposed to become a doctor if I can't pass a block? And it isn't like undergrad, where if you hate a block or don't know something you can always say "oh well, when am I ever going to need this?" Medical school is a whole new ball game, where everything you learn is somehow important and everything you learn may save a life some day, but you can't know all of it. You juts can't. And there isn't a good way to realize that, and deal with that, and fully understand that you are only human and cannot get through all of this.
It was around this time that a friend of mine told me she was going to therapy. And I signed up for that. I never ever would have if someone else hadn't told me they were doing it. So for those of you out there who are like me, sign up for therapy. I did it. And then I pulled myself together and FINALLY figured out a good way to study and managed to kick ass in the rest of the block. Came back to the final two blocks before the dreaded boards.
Oh the USMLE. heard about it from the day we walked into school. I've never heard of a test so built up in my entire life. From the start of first year people are talking about studying for the boards, and getting the books to study, and Lord Almighty that just made me feel worse about everything, because I was barely keeping up with class and people were talking about studying for the boards on top of class, and how was I supposed to manage all of that? I could barely handle passing each class and keeping some semblance of sanity. This was about hte time I started on anti-depressants. Life savers. And the only reason I was convinced to do it, another class mate said they were on them. I think about half my class is on them by now. And a doctor I know todl me she was on anti-depressants throughout residency and fellowship. Because by this point, I was crying every day. I woke up in the morning crying. I held it together through class. I went to hte bathroom in the afternoon and cried, and I went to sleep crying. I couldn't be alone in a study room. I always had to be studying with someone. My poor friends were constantly harassed to spend time with me and study with me. Every waking second I had to be around someone else or I'd burst into tears and have a panic attack. It was awful.
Then I started dating this guy, and things started feeling better. Was still struggling with school, but at least my social life was happy finally. And then he broke up with me. And I fell apart again. noticing a pattern? Not only am I a complete crazy pants, but you have to remember that medical school is already hard, and hten on top of that you still have your life. And it makes it SO MUCH HARDER to do what needs to be done. And I'm here to tell you, I've been there! I know how you feel. You are not alone.
And then, boards studying time. Started feeling pretty good, thought I was doing okay. Felt overwhelmed. and constantly like everyone else knew so much more than me. That is the state I've been in for hte past two years. Everyone knows so much more than me, and I am not good enough to be here, and I am completely overwhelmed by everything I have to do and know and be and I cannot live up to the expectations people have of me. Sound familiar? I think we all feel this way, just no one is willing to admit it.
And then I took the boards, and everything started looking good. Third year started, I moved into a townhouse with a classmate, I was in internal medicine, I loved it and everyone loved me. Until two days into rotations, when I found out I FAILED THE USMLE! Who does that? Apparently 9 peopel in my class, and I was one of them. And all that hard work, all those hours I'd put in, all that sutdying I did, just like that, had been for nothing. I saw my dreams vanish before my eyes. And I have to honestly tell you, that if I had taken a year off between second and third year, or I had not been enjoying my rotation, I would have dropped out of medcical school on finding I'd failed the boards. And everyone telling me "oh it was just a fluke, there is no way you could have failed, we never would have thought you failed, oh youwere so close to passing" did not help. None of it made me feel better. The only thing that made me feel better was finding out two of my friends had failed as well. not because I wish anyone to be in my position, but because hwen you find someone else in your position it makes it easier to deal with.
I got to finish my rotation in internal medicien and Iloved it. Renewed my spirit to be a doctor. It was just the experience I needed. But to be honest, it was the first good experience I've had in two and a half years of schooling.
So here I am now, pulled out of rotations to restudy for the board exam everyone else managed to pass, and back to hating my life. So I've started this blog for several reasons 1) to get it all out there, 2) to give some advice to incoming/current medical students, and 3) to let you all know that there is someone out there who feels like you do. Because I know I'm not alone. And I know that every time I talk to someone about this, they say "yeah, I feel the exact same way, and you know what? It makes it easier to know that someone else feels this way too." So I will tell you my humiliating story, hopefully it will have a happy ending, and will give you the true insights of medical school life as I go through it.
I've just covered two years in one blog. The rest hopefully won't be so long. But for now, I am going to sleep. It is past my bed time.
Good luck to all of you out there. May you be having better days than I am