do you really think I have nothing better to do than go to mandatory sessions?

This one is for you, "anonymous!" because that last one really was also for you. You also gave me the inspiration for this latest blog. Something else I'd forgotten I hated about medical school: mandatory sessions and evaluations. It's like they didn't think I was doing anything with my time, so had to fill up any little bits of freetime with extra sessions. Why do they do this? To torture me. I know it is a plot against me. Seriously though, why do they make everything so freaking difficult? And none of it seems to even matter. At my school we used to have "communications" session, where we had a difficult topic and had to do an interview with a standardized patient to learn how to talk about these difficult issues. I actually kind of enjoyed these sessions, except for the fact that they were ALWAYS the same week as a test. No matter how many time we filled out evaluations BEGGING them to switch days that never changed. I'm not sure how many nasty evaluations I filled out "please schedule these sessions, which are very helpful to our medical education, when we don't have a test the next day so we can actually feel like we are learning and not dreading being there." But alas, no change. At least those sessions were worth my time. I learned something, most of the time. There was the odd time that the facilitator felt he needed to give really specific feedback. Never again will I ask for specific feedback. Seriously this guy wrote down EVERYTHING I said to the patient and then repeated it all to me and judged every sentence. Calm the fuck down dude, I want to go home. Other sessions you are literally sitting there wondering why anyone thinks any of this is important in any way. We had multiple sessions that were supposed to cover things that we don't really learn while in school. Like hospice care. Or medical billing. Or...nope those are the only two that were even remotely helpful. The others were just sessions where I sat there staring at the wall, wondering why I couldn't go home. Why? Because there might be a sign in sheet passed around, and if your name wasn't on it, there was hell to pay. How did people get through medical school before iPhones? Because without phone solitaire, facebook, and text messaging I would have died of boredom. Also it was nice to get the "get your ass to class there is a sign in sheet" message if you were running late and debating coming. "On my way!" haha. The worst, worst worst worst though are the small group sessions where your facilitator really feels the need to spend EVERY second of the allotted time. LET ME GO! I don't want to hear any more stories or tidbits of information. I want to go home and stare at the walls and hate my life in privacy. Thank you. Even in residency we have didactics/lectures, and sometimes you just want to strangle the facilitator so that he will shut up and stop speaking so you can go home. And that one person who keeps asking questions. "any last questions?" NO! Everyone shut the fuck up and start packing up, because once you get them started you know they won't stop! And while I can fall asleep in a large lecture hall, it's more difficult to get away with things when there are only four people in the room other than the speaker. They usually notice that shit. So some things haven't changed since medical school ended. One is my crazy ability to fall asleep at any lecture. Journal club? Why yes I do need a mid day nap. Grand rounds? I actually look forward to them as "naptime." Didactic? Fellow residents have to poke me and throw me gum to chew to keep me awake. Another thing that hasn't changed: my time being taken up by stupid ass "learning opportunities." that I'm sure someone out there finds helpful but I do not. And I will never ever get used to attendings that need to perseverate when I could be going home. Weekends are not time to be teaching! They are time to round and get the heck out of there. The end of the day? Stop talking I want to go home. I don't learn anything at those times. Please respect my need to get home. But nothing is as bad as medical school, that is for damned sure. I have very minimal complaints about residency, so stick with it friends. And go into psychiatry! That's the life :-) Good luck and good night everyone!

For those of you who read my blog, I love you!

Just wanted to say a quick hi to all those blog readers out there. All five of you haha. I also wanted you to know that I love the comments you leave on my blog and I'm hoping that thisblog helps some of you feel less alone out there in medical school. I absolutely hated it, but I made it through. I am enjoying my residency in psychiatry. I really hope that it is worth it for all of you out there struggling through the process of medical school. I hope that everyone enjoys their decision to go through medical school and become a doctor. I'm not even sure I'll continue to love it, but for now I'm enjoying it. I'm glad to be out of medical school and hope things will continue to go well. You'll all be okay. And contact me if you feel any need to! I'm here for all of you! It's going to be okay, and the adventures of residency are a fun story all in themselves. Good luck out there!

That awkward moment between graduating and starting residency when you have no clue what to tell people you do

So it is official, I got to graduate. I am an MD. I am a doctor. I cannot believe it. I was waiting for something bad to happen but for once it didn't. I was allowed to graduate! Now I am sitting in my new apartment in my new city waiting for residency to start and I can't believe I am a doctor. It definitely hasn't set in yet. I was sitting in the spa the other day, filling out a form before getting a well deserved massage, and I was asked for my "occupation." I didn't know what to put! For the past four years I have put student. But I'm a graduate now. Yet I don't consider myself a doctor quite yet. Mostly because I have no real training yet. I've got this MD and I don't know how to do anything with it. Or even what I'm supposed to do with it. I'm not really unemployed because I signed a work contract but I haven't started my job yet so I feel unemployed. I don't feel a like a doctor. I'm terrified if I tell people I am one they will start asking me questions that I can't answer. So I'm a doctor, what does that even mean at this point? Here I sit, relaxing because I don't start intern year for another week, wondering how I am going to survive. I pretty much haven't done anything for the past three months. How am I going to start working again all of a sudden? How am I going to ever convince myself that I am a doctor. When does that happen? I totally feel like Eliot Reid on Scrubs when she could never explain what it was that she did. And JD was like "you are a doctor." I odn't feel like one. And my mom loves to run around telling everyone that I'm a doctor. And for about a day I loved it too. Now I am not sure I deserve the title. Awkward.

Scrambling fucking sucks, but you get over it eventually

What a freaking year! I'm sorry to my faithful follower for not posting in awhile, hope anyone reading this is doing well. What has been going on in my world since I last updated my blog? I high passed my cardiology rotation, which was impressive considering I half assed the shit out of it. Word of advice: if you can pick who evaluates you, pick the people who think you are doing a good job. I wasted a shit ton of money on interviews thinking I wanted to be a pediatrician. I thought I got really good feedback and did pretty well. There were a couple of places I absolutely LOVED and really wanted to go to. There were a few places I had nightmares about being matched at. I was exhausted by the end of my season, but overall I felt pretty good about things. I still had this slight nagging suspicion that I might not match, but it was just one of those "you've sucked at everything else, so why wouldn't you suck at this too?" type feelings, nothing really concrete to support it. I even got a really great email from my number one choice, from one of the people who interviewed me saying she was so happy to have met me and really thinks I'd be a great fit for the program and that everyone really liked me and I was a delight and blah blah blah. So at that point I was getting pretty confident that I was going to get my top choice. I even started apartment hunting, just little things on craigslist and whatnot, just to see what the market was like. Boy did I jinx myself. DO NOT START LOOKING AT APARTMENTS UNTIL YOU MATCH. Because let me tell you, overconfidence is a silent killer of medical students. Here is how match week works, for those of you who are getting close to your fourth year. In February you put in your rank list. Then you sit there until the middle week in March, twiddling your thumbs and wondering where the fuck you are going to be spending the next 3+ years of your life, and rethinking every decision you've made, and questioning your judgement, and wondering why you are STILL in medical school and if you are ever going to get out of there alive, but really probably not doing much else with your time. Then, it is finally Match Week. Monday you get an email saying whether or not you matched. Friday, if you were lucky enough to have matched, you open your envelope and find out where you are going. You spend the rest of Match week feeling smug and complaining about how you don't know where you are going yet and it is just so exciting. Fuck you. Here is what happens when you don't match. First hand experience here ladies and gentlemen, you can't find better information than this. You get an email from the NRMP with a subject line that says "did I match?" and you get all excited and get butterflies in your stomach and then you go somewhere private to open it just in case and the first thing you see is "No. I'm sorry but you did not match." Similarly to opening that email that says you failed the boards, you read it at least five hundred times over and over again, not believing it, wondering why this is happening to you, and generally are in a state of complete shock. Then you realize you've got to go fix your life AGAIN. If you are an idiot like me, you're in the middle of a rotation (luckily just watching movies) so everyone knows that you didn't match. And by everyone I mean 14 people. Then all your excited friends start texting you to find out if you matched, and you get to start telling people that no, you did not. Then you burst into tears and call your mom because really life cannot be any worse. But then, you pull yourself together. Not because you are strong and amazing, but because you have no other fucking choice. Four years of medical school are about to go flush themselves down the toilet if you don't scramble into a spot. They created a new system for us, and let me tell you, it is actually kind of nice. You go upstairs and find all the other people that had to scramble (hey buddy, fancy meeting you here) and sit down with your speciality mentor and cry for a bit. Then you get this list of all the open programs that you can apply to. You send out your application and wait. Later that day the schools start calling you. Because they are freaking out too. Holy shit we have open spaces! We must fill them! You spend a day and a half doing phone and skype interviews and then on Wednesday morning you hope to GOD someone liked you enough to take you, or at least that they are desperate enough to take you. Wednesday you sit down with your computer and the first round draft begins. If you are lucky (like I was) you get an offer right away. Some get more than one option and can choose where they want to go. Some unlucky bastards don't get accepted anywhere and have to wait two hours to see if another offer comes in. Luckier people find out where they are going on Wednesday, go home and spread the good news, and pass out for the next day. Masochists like me decide to still go to Match Day brunch and try to be happy for others while secretly hating them just a little for the ease with which their lives pass. What else happens that week? On Monday I got many "you'll do great we love you" texts from friends. I also went to a brunch place and had the most awesome French Toast with cinnamon and caramel and deliciousness to drown my sorrows. I then went back to my house and refused to talk to anyone except the few schools that called me. But, I also made a very important decision. Fuck pediatrics. Maybe the reason I'd been freaking out so much for the past couple of months is that I didn't actually want to be a pediatrician. Maybe all my wonderful experiences in psychiatry, my love of difficult situations and talking to people, my fear of procedures and hatred of much of medicine, were really a sign that I wasn't supposed to go into the field I thought I was supposed to. Bright side! I changed professions before it was too late. All that debating about whether or not I should go into psych instead of peds was decided for me. Peds didn't want me. So try something else. So I re-applied to pediatric programs and applied to psych programs. And I only heard back from psych programs (well, one peds program but that was it). And psych sounded nice. Good schedule, nice people, lots of options. And you wonder why you spent thousands of dollars interviewing when you could have just scrambled in the first place (risky, don't do it) and you try to cheer yourself up. The rest of the week is spent reminding yourself that everything happens for a reason. Because it does, I'm likely to be happier in psych than I would have been in peds. This may have been a sign from God to change my course (why he couldn't have told me BEFORE is beyond me), and I'm really probably going to enjoy my new field more. That doesn't change the fact that you feel like you've been punched in the face so hard you are amazed nothing broke. It is the worst blow to your professional self esteem. And you wonder, what the FUCK did I do wrong at my interviews? Because although I heard many a "any program would be lucky to have you" at the end of the day not a single one wanted me. And that is a hard thing to get over, even if you are happy with where you end up and how things worked out. It may have all been for the best, but it is the WORST way to find what is for the best. Every action for the last four years has been re-thought and re-played and I wonder why I suck so damn much. They tell you that the scramble is completely anonymous, the only people that know are the Dean of Student Affairs, you, and the program you join. But that is a load of horseshit. Because people text all day on Monday "did you match? did you match?" and you have to make the choice: do I lie? Or do I just own up to it? Also, you've spent a lot of time talking to people about where you interviewed and where you liked, so come Match day, if you mention some place you've never talked about before, people figure it out. Also, if you change specialities like I did, people figure it out. But, you can fuck with people a little bit, which is always fun. I enjoyed seeing the expression of people's faces when I told them I was going into psych and they were like "wait, I thought you wanted peds" and I just walked away. Or the guy who when I told him where I was going said it was a nice place and I blurted out "I don't know, I've never been there." And he was like "except on your interview you mean." And I was like "nope, didn't go there. Didn't have an in person interview there. I've never been." I really wish I'd just left him to wonder, but I eventually told him where I was going. Match day, for those of us who scrambled, SUCKS. But it shows a nice level of maturity to go to it. And it is nice to see everyone else so happy. Even if you want to die a little inside. Screams of joy, some tears are not of joy, everyone excited to start their new lives. Not everyone is happy on match day, but it sure feels like it. So forever I'll be the girl who scrambled, just like I'm the girl who failed the boards. No one has to know, but I'll always know. I am happy to be going into psych and into the program I'm going into. It's going to be awesome. But I will likely never fully get over the hurt of not matching. I spiralled into a crazy depression, one I hadn't felt since failing the boards. It sucked. But I lived through it. And I'm moving on. Moral of the story: things suck sometimes, but you get past it and move on. New adventure, about to begin. This hell called medical school is almost over. To all of you getting ready to embark on your fourth year, good luck. I have no useful advice to anyone that I'm willing to share, because I don't want anyone to end up in my position and I feel like my advice would just put you in that position. So do what you think is right and be ready for whatever comes your way.

I'm pretty sure I'm being ball blocked

I'm very frustrated right now. With the man. The institution. What the hell is going on? I'm trying to create positive change on campus and I feel like I'm being blocked on all sides. Like there is some force that wants to silence me but not let me know I'm being silenced. I'm being put to a task with no ability to move forward, but they are trying to convince me that I'm an integral part of the team. I'm being humored. That's the word I'm looking for.
I understand that I'm loud and crass and tell it like it is. I complain about things and I'll point out the shit that is going on. Hence this blog right? But I'm also trying to help fix thing. Trying to help keep other medical students from going through the same shithole experience that I went through for the past four years. I want people to be better, I want this institution to improve and thrive. I want this to be a place we can all be proud of. But my methods aren't as PC as people would like them to be. So I get black listed.
There is something going down on campus that I should be involved in. I've been trying to create a mentoring program for TWO YEARS now, and no one has stepped up to help in any way. I've been met with resistance. And now here is a group of other students popping up, trying to take over my baby and do it their way, without letting me be part of it. It's a conspiracy I tell you, and I usually don't believe in conspiracy theories.
Well, if you don't want my help you aint gonna get it! Just tell me to my face and stop wasting my time, because I have other things I could be doing right now! Like catching up on old episodes of Friends. And going to the gym. And RELAXING. So what's the dealio?
Hmmm...
something sketchy is going on around these parts! And I won't rest until I get to the bottom of it. Actually that's not true. I'm just going to stop trying to help and let them figure it out for themselves. Don't want my help? Fine, you won't get it.