Acting school

When the typical person first thinks of medical school, they imagine people bent over textbooks in the library, or maybe standing around a cadaver. To be honest, that was my first impression as well. However, after entering medical school, I've come to realize that part of it is like acting school.

I mention this because we have an OSCE coming up. I could probably look up what that stands for, but to be completely honest, I've only ever seen the long form of this acronym maybe once (as a side note, medicine is a storm of acronyms...arguably one of the most overwhelming aspects of learning 'the language'). In any case, the acronym aside, an OSCE is basically a series of stations in which you are given short prompts and then told to respond to them appropriately. At my level, this generally refers to taking a history, doing a physical examination, or a mix of both.

Personally I think the actual content/knowledge required is not all too difficult (knock on wood). However, each station is only a couple of minutes long (~10 min) so time management can be quite the struggle, especially if the condition is complicated and both the history and physical extensive (infective endocarditis comes to mind).

It makes absolute sense to test in this way, as this is probably the best way to see how we will perform in an actual patient encounter. However, that doesn't help to decrease the performance anxiety that exists. In fact, OSCEs are such a well-known test that there are tons of books out there filled with checklists of what examiners could look for in a particular scenario. For example,

When you crack open one of these books, it's kind of overwhelming to see the possible scenarios and their associated lists. Borrowing from Amazon, a sample page: 

Although it's fairly organized here, in the heat of the situation it's sometimes difficult to remain organized during the actual thing, especially if you factor in nerves and the amount of information that has to be covered.

Anyways, my first OSCE is just around the corner; here's to hoping that it will go well!

When you watch a child die

While exploring the blogosphere, I happened to come across this extremely moving post about the moment when you watch a child die. It is an exceptionally well-written post, and for anyone interested in healthcare, I feel like it is a worthwhile read.

Additionally, I've set up a blog roll on the side to introduce any other blogs I may find interesting as I go on.

Looking back on a year

Kind of unintentional, but I left this blog to sit and rot for nearly a year.

The past couple of months has been a whirlwind of activity. Particularly at the beginning, there was so much adjustment to be made that I wondered whether I would ever get used to it. Of course in hindsight it seems like such a silly thing, but it was a source of considerable stress at the beginning (in case you can't tell, I am not a fan of a change in my environment).

The other thing that really took getting used to was feeling stupid. All the time. Sure there are moments where I can answer a question, or happen to know an interesting fact, but the rest of the time is spent mostly in awe and a sort of terror at the amount of stuff I don't know. In medicine, we have this thing called 'pimping' wherein a senior in the medical world (can really be anybody) will ask you medicine-related questions out of the blue. Unfortunately, I've had to utter the words, "I don't know" in front of patients on quite a few occasions already in the past months. Fortunately however, as a medical student people expect you to know very little so my ignorance is still met with understanding and a subsequent desire to teach; I shudder a little at the thought of when I gain some more seniority (and I can't say I am confident that my knowledge will necessarily grow at the same pace).

That being said, you get used to the idea of not knowing things surprisingly quickly. The first month a few friends and I actually had to have a de-stress session because we were so distraught. Now I am a complete subscriber to the policy of pass/fail that is instituted in medical education. I work hard to absorb as much information as I can, but I've come to terms with the fact that I won't ever know everything, and that the 100% that had always been the target for the better part of my life has become an impossible dream. Sounds kind of depressing, but trust me, it's not...it has become much easier to enjoy my free time nowadays (less guilt!).

Looking forward, we are about to start a few weeks of clinical rotations. That means, as medical students (what we call 'pre-clerks'), we will be leaving the classroom behind completely and spending all our time in hospitals and clinics, gaining some hands-on experience. After several months of classroom teaching and lots of theoretical discussion of what goes on in the 'real world', it would be a lie to say that I'm not looking forward to it. At the same time, I will probably miss the opportunity to sleep in every now and then; not yet certain how my biological clock will handle a regimented schedule (and by no means am I a morning person, which unfortunately is at odds with the medical profession in general).

In any case, the clock hands have crept past midnight (again), so it's time to call it a day. An exam is just around the corner, so tensions are a bit high within the class; to be honest, we've been building up to it for so long that I just want it to be over. Hopefully I'll get some studying done tomorrow. That or enjoy a nice walk by the water. Or maybe I'll find a nice patio and have a little bit of both.

Art

Although I have always kept one foot in the arts, I have more or less spent the past couple of years completely submerged in the sciences. I'm sure many people have expressed similar sentiments, but the sciences are (though with exceptions) nice in the compact way that it is clear-cut, logical, and (more or less) straightforward. On the other hand, the arts have always been a messy sort of thing; it is open to interpretation (and proud of it) and for the same piece of work, there are probably as many explanations of it as there are pairs of eyes/ears looking at/hearing it. For someone deeply devoted to the sciences, it sometimes seems a silly thing.

But despite the fact that my day-to-day life is so detached from the arts (all the more so that I am doing research work), there come moments where the need to express is just so strong that I cannot even decide whether to draw or to write or to compose. There are moments where I find myself so moved, so touched, that I want other people to understand and to comprehend the depth of the emotion, and yet find myself so witheringly at a loss to do so. It is a hollow thing, to feel something and be unable to share it.

I spent today being rather unproductive, mostly sitting at home, watching a couple of movies that I'd planned to watch for a while (but had never gotten around to doing so). But the movies were just done so well - the strength of humanity to unite in the face of difficulty, the comprehension of loss, the bittersweetness of parting - that I ended the day feeling so saturated that I could not just sit still. These are the days where I curse my ineptness with words, my clumsy artwork, my inability to improvise...how fulfilling it must be to be able to give form to the soul! To be able to praise, to love, to cherish the human condition!

Settled!

Finally found a place to live in for next year! I'm really happy with the location, and it's also pretty spacious, so I'm looking forward to moving in in a couple of months. What's even better, of course, is that this takes off another thing on the long checklist of to-do's that lead up to actually starting med school.

Now the only things left are to sign up for a CPR course, and to get an updated copy of my health records! Relatively simple compared to the other hoops I've had to jump through so far.

Pretty tired today, so I'll leave it at that! G'night!

Housing troubles continue

My previous housing arrangements (not physical location, but rooming, etc.) have suddenly been rethought. Which means that everything is back to square one, and I have to go back to the drawing board.

Thankfully, there is one location that seems quite promising right now, but at this point, I just really, really want to get this over with. There are so many things to look forward to in terms of starting medical school, but all the logistics (not just housing, but also the mountain of other things that need to be arranged) bog down the process and really dampen some of the excitement. I understand it's a necessary evil(?), but it would be nice to get this stuff over with quickly so I can truly look forward to starting school in a few months.

That being said, work is also a bit of a drag lately. Not so much the nature of the work, but just because things aren't working out with the experiments. That's how research is though, so I'm not terribly surprised. But it'd be nice for something to finally give me results this week (fingers crossed). Also there's a presentation I have to start preparing for, but it's terribly difficult to find time for it at the moment. I'm hoping that once the housing thing is out of my hair, I'll be able to sit down and really focus on getting the presentation done.  

Medicine & Music

Music is one of my passions, so I was pretty excited when I came across this article from the Royal Conservatory of Music (RCM) website interviewing two individuals who had experience both with music and medicine.

The answers to the last question really make me smile.

(taken from http://bit.ly/M59I9F ) 


The Royal Conservatory’s alumni have gone on to great success in a wide range of fields, from music and the arts  to business, sports, and medicine.


Dr. Robert Hegele and Dr. Richard Hegele each obtained an Associate of The Royal Conservatory (ARCT) diploma, and both have achieved great prominence as physicians and researchers.


Dr. Robert Hegele, MD FRCPC FACP, is an endocrinologist and Professor of Medicine at the University of Western Ontario, as well as Director of the Blackburn Cardiovascular Genetics Lab at Robarts Research Institute and London Regional Genomics Center. 


Dr. Richard Hegele, MD, FRCPC, PhD, is Professor and Chair of the Department of Laboratory Medicine and Patholbiology at the University of Toronto, as well as Chief of the Department of Paediatric Laboratory Medicine at The Hospital for Sick Children. 


Recently, the brothers spoke with The Royal Conservatory and described how their Conservatory music training contributed to their subsequent success in medicine.


How old were you when you started your musical training, and how did it come about?
Dr. Robert Hegele: I began piano lessons with Mrs. Ruth Ferma at age five, with prompting and encouragement from our mother in particular.
Dr. Richard Hegele: I was five years old when I began piano lessons, following in the footsteps of my brother.


What techniques did you use to stay motivated?
Dr. Robert Hegele: Motivation was difficult at times, especially when starting out. Our teacher and parents used every trick in the book to keep the momentum going (and in retrospect I’m very glad they did).  Later, preparation for competitions, recitals and performances definitely helped to focus the mind.
Dr. Richard Hegele: Opportunities for playing in different contexts (solo, ensemble) and discovering different repertoire. 


How has your musical training helped you in your career? If you still actively play, do you think your career as helped contribute to further musical growth?
Dr. Robert Hegele: Musical training helped me to develop the skills to set and work towards short and long term goals.  I wish I had more time to play nowadays, but when I can find time to do so, it’s always a welcome therapeutic diversion.
Dr. Richard Hegele: My musical training has helped my career development in many ways: goal setting, perseverance, discipline, rhythm and dexterity, and taking a long-term perspective. In addition, those three- hour theory exams prepared me exceptionally well for what I had to deal with in medical school. Today, I enjoy many opportunities to play at various functions and it is especially fun to provide piano accompaniment for my daughter Rose, an up-and-coming soprano.


What advice would you give hopeful musicians and/or medical students?
Dr. Robert Hegele: Nothing that’s worthwhile in life comes without some self-sacrifice and struggle.  Also, your ability to constructively react to failure and setbacks is in the long run more important than being able to string together a series of successes and accomplishments.
Dr. Richard Hegele: No matter how you try to cut it, success is 10 percent inspiration and 90 percent perspiration.


How many of your colleagues (that you’re aware of) are musicians?
Dr. Robert Hegele: I have noticed over the years that there’s a strong linkage between accomplishment in music and success in medicine.
Dr. Richard Hegele: Too many to count.