This marks the halfway point of my post-secondary education.
My old classmates are getting on with their lives, making
babies, working nine to five. I'm learning how to write
prescriptions. I have to admit I'm very excited � I came
here to practise medicine, not just to hear about it in
lectures. So here I go, learning how to pronounce someone
dead and how to stick tubes into each other.
LUBED
& TUBED
I was one of the first volunteers to have a nasogastric
(NG) tube put in me. My pal Varnet measured out the
length of the tube, lubed it and threaded the plastic
tube through my nose. I won't lie and say it wasn't
a very weird feeling having a cold flexible hose shoved
up my nose and hitting the back of my nasal cavity.
To facilitate the process, I gulped
down a cup of water. I swallowed and swallowed, both
air and water as Varnet slowly pushed the tube in deeper.
Tears streamed down my face as I gagged, desperately
trying not to vomit at the same time. My peers stared
with a mix of concern and fascination.
When the tube was finally in place,
I was surprised to find that I stopped gagging. Nevertheless,
it was entirely uncomfortable and I wanted it out. Varnet
slowly pulled the NG tube out, trying not to
injure me or something, but all I wanted was to get
the thing out � fast! Note to self: NG tubes
are meant to be put in and taken out as quickly as possible.
"You all right? Man, I felt so
bad with all the tears in your eyes," Varnet offered
after the ordeal. I replied, wiping my face, "You gotta
do it fast. It's horrible when you go slowly."
HUMILIATION
101
Perhaps my biggest fear about entering the wards (besides
worrying about how I'm going to endure the chronic fatigue)
is that it's completely unknown. Up till now we've been
examined in the classroom, writing essays and answering
multiple choice questions. Now, all of a sudden, it's
turning into a kind of apprenticeship where learning
will happen through doing. Or perhaps more accurately,
by not doing and then having your preceptor yell at
you. "Humiliation-based learning," they call it. All
of a sudden, what I've learned matters. I think of all
the times I've slept through class or skipped over learning
some obscure disease. Now I'll be responsible
when I admit that one-in-a-million patient.
The Dean reminds us that we're
the lowest of the low, that everyone knows more than
we do and we'd best be careful not to offend anyone.
I recall being told that we were the lowest of the low
in second year. And in first year, too. Even in undergrad,
I was told I was pretty low when I wanted to do some
shadowing with doctors. I wonder if first-year residents
get told that they are the lowest of the low, too?
Yes, the wards will be interesting
indeed. During his brief talk the senior resident of
surgery admitted that internship is exactly like Samuel
Shem described it in his classic intern novel House
of God. Come to think of it, peds resident Becky
said that too. If that's true, it seems medical education
hasn't progressed very far since the 60s and that it'll
certainly be a trying (challenging?) experience.
Each month Todd Suende will
share his med school thrills and spills with NRM readers.
How do you like the diary? Let
us know at [email protected]
or fax us at 514-397-0228. Next time: Psych rotation...
at the mall
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