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Archive for October, 2013

Speed

The weeks go so quickly. I wake up, grumbling, on Monday morning. Before I know it I’m going to bed Wednesday night and waking up to Friday with an exam in my face. This is already week 7 (I think?) of a 16 week semester. And despite the fact that I wake up every Friday morning, completely convinced that I will bomb my exam that day, I have yet to fail one. And even though I remind myself of this fact every Friday as well as the fact that I will not be kicked out of med school for failing one exam, I am still utterly convinced that this Friday I will fail and they will kick me out of med school. But I do think I’m getting better at studying. Or at least getting used to studying again.

It’s stressful, but I’m managing. Better than I’ve managed a lot of stressful times in my life. Or at least I think so. I’m maintaining an ok weight and ignoring the fact that I purge 4-5 times/week.

Denial.

My biggest defense.

I think I was in denial about anatomy lab, too, for the past 6 weeks. I didn’t think it bothered me all that much. But after writing a piece about it for my writing class I realized that it does bother me.

A lot.

It doesn’t matter that we cover up the face and keep the body under layers of towels. We are still cutting in to a human. It’s not natural and at the end of a dissection it resembles nothing like the body you started with. And I feel for the donor. Whenever I’m in lab I feel this pull to hold her hand or rest my hand on her thigh as I would do with a child as they got stitches. Seeing her hands makes me so sad. Every week I am thankful I do not have to dissect her hands. Instead I have to dissect her face. I’m not sure which is worse. But the worst part of lab is that I don’t feel like I can tell anyone about how much I dislike it. It’s not that I’m squeamish. I don’t even know exactly what the emotion is. It just bothers me. I avoid it as much as possible and I feel extremely guilty every time other people go in to study and I don’t.

And I’ve had a lot of friends struggling with their own issues. I love that they trust me. I feel so deeply for them though, that it’s hard because I just want to take away their pain and I can’t. Although I think it would be much much harder if they didn’t tell me. (So you friends reading….don’t use this as an excuse to not tell me things)

So to sum up this blog post: I’m doing ok. But in many ways I’m really not. But I’m still telling everyone that I am.

(and after some more editing I’ll post my most recent writing piece)

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