Monthly Archive for September, 2008

i took the plunge!

So part of our third year curriculum includes the much-loved warm-and-fuzzy doctoring class that kicks my ass because I’m so not warm and fuzzy.

I’ve been trying to not be super quiet, but it’s been hard because my group consists of people I don’t know who all seem to know each other so well and because there are a couple of extraverted people who tend to dominate the discussion. But I am thankful that there are only about 2 extraverts instead of 6 when I got screwed during my second year.

Well, the other day, our session was about dealing with family members of someone in the ICU who isn’t going to make it. The discussion centered on how difficult it is to handle such a tough, emotional situation in a way that makes the family feel better. And, of course, just to make things hard on us, there was going to be a standardized patient interview. We decided to fly by the seat of our pants early in the course, with the interviewer volunteering on the day of the interview instead of pre-assigning days to people. Of course, I did not volunteer. Not because I was afraid of it being too emotionally draining or heartbreaking or whatever. But because this case required loads of empathy, which I severely lack and I didn’t want to be evaluated doing the thing that I am weakest at (these stupid mock interview evaluations go into our Dean’s Letter to residency programs!). Someone else volunteered, so it was okay.

But after learning the heartbreaking details of this particular case, the volunteer interviewer chickened out, saying that she knew she would break down during the interview (which I thought was lame because we all know that this is fake!). She did break down right after making that statement and left the room in tears. Somebody apparently has too much empathy. So with her out of the picture, we had to procure another volunteer. And no one else volunteered. Like I said earlier, I wasn’t about to volunteer either. But after two prolonged awkward silences, I knew that I was ripe for being picked on because I hadn’t talked much in any of the prior sessions. So before I could be forced to “volunteer,” I volunteered.

And the interview was hard. Our standardized patients were an irate father and a hysterical mother. The mother I could deal with. The father…not so much. But I eventually muddled my way through and it wasn’t an utter disaster (as has happened to me before in my second year warm-and-fuzzy doctoring class). I actually got pretty good marks, which I’m happy about.

What I’m proudest of though is the fact that I volunteered and that I wasn’t as self-conscious and nervous as I usually am about these things. Maybe it’s because I don’t know these people and don’t care what they think of me. Who knows. But it was a really big step for me. This case was hard for me, but not in the same way as it was for other people. Everyone else’s heart breaks over the case itself and they fear that they cannot stay unemotional while talking to the patient’s family. I have the opposite problem: I don’t really care and I’m not very good at pretending that I care. Which one is harder to deal with? Well, I think that less people would fault an overly emotional doctor than they would fault one who just didn’t seem to care. There is such value placed on empathy that it makes me feel that I fail at being a doctor just because I lack in that area. Forget my smarts. I’m screwed because I don’t have empathy.

Well, at least I was able to fake it until I made it this time.

on second thought…

I’m kinda screwed. Let’s count the ways:

1) My hypotheses suck. In my defense, I knew they sucked and I didn’t want to go with them, but my major professor made me. And now I get to look like an idiot when my committee member calls them “naive.”

2) My results suck. It’s not good when your baseline measurements are significantly different from each other.

3) My discussion sucks. That would be because no one told me how to write a dissertation discussion. And also because my hypotheses and results suck.

So yeah, I spent a week sulking over these sad facts. I finally got off my ass and started working on my revision today. And it’s not fun.

whoo hoo it’s revision time

Just the thing I was waiting for. Revisions. Do I sound excited?

It was hard enough getting the damn dissertation out. Now I have to revise it? I’m not actually as incredulous as I might be sounding right now because I know that my writing and my logic are not perfect and I expected that I would have to make massive revisions. I’m actually glad that the comments are pretty mild and that I don’t have to rewrite the whole thing as I had feared. But that doesn’t mean that the task doesn’t seem daunting to me. Especially because my world has just been turned upside down by issues I would rather not discuss. Just when I was getting back on my feet, shit happens to knock me back down.

In any case, one of the reasons why I’m just a tad annoyed at some of the comments I received is that a lot of them are about things that my stupid major professor told me to say or do that I disagreed with but that he said were fine. And when they got called out and I pointed out to him that it was him who suggested them to me and forced me to write these things, he tried to deny it or imply that I had misunderstood what he had told me to do. He actually criticized me on something he himself told me to do and which I hesitated to do! When other reviewers point out these things, it’s not like I get to defend myself and say to them, “But my major professor made me do it!” I just get stuck with these reviewers believing that I’m an idiot when I’m not. And that’s why this whole revision stings a little bit. Not because I think I’m perfect, but because not all of the mistakes are mine.

But what can I do, right? It’s always been like this with my major professor. If I just suck it up this time around, then I can be done with him for good!

just when i’d lost all hope in mankind

So my husband and I braved the weekend and college kid crowd at Ikea today to get a bedframe for our new king bed. Needless to say, it was crowded. And annoying. The last straw was when this lady totally bumped into and then rubbed up against me as she walked behind me while I was in line. It wasn’t even a tight fit and she didn’t even bother apologizing like a decent human being. She was lucky that I had (wisely) chosen not to carry my Chanel because I surely would have kicked her ass if she had bumped into it instead of my ratty Coach purse. Yes, I know it was an accident. And yes, no harm done. But I’m just sick and tired of how rude we’ve become. A simple, “excuse me” would have taken less than two seconds to utter and would have sufficed.

We finally made it out in one piece only to realize that we had underestimated the size of the bedframe we had just purchased. Or overestimated the width of our Prius’ trunk. Either way, there was no way in hell we were going to fit the headboard in our car. We debated whether our other car, a Japanese sports car, would be able to hold it and decided that we had no choice but to try. So I ended up sitting outside of Ikea with our impossible cargo for an hour waiting for my husband to make the trip home and swap cars. It was not fun.

When he returned, it still looked like an impossible task, but my husband was convinced that it would fit. As we were trying to figure out how best to lift the box so that we could angle it into the trunk, we were surprised to hear the young man sitting on a bench nearby offer to help. I would have been less surprised if he had busted out laughing at us and our antics. But true to his word, he helped my husband lift and place the headboard into the car, saving me from having to do so. And yes, it did fit. Barely. And hanging out of the trunk by a foot. But we made it home…thanks to the kindness of a stranger, something that doesn’t happen too often anymore today and gives this jaded writer a sliver of hope that decent people still exist in this world.

At the same time, this event makes me ask myself if I would have done the same I were in that guy’s shoes (assuming that I would have been of help). I know that I would definitely consider helping. I just don’t know if I would act. Sad but true. What about you? What would you have done?

yatta! it’s done!

FINALLY! I completed my first draft of my dissertation last Thursday, just in time to go on vacation! I can’t believe it took so long and all I wrote was 94 double-spaced pages. Looking back, it was really my own inertia that prevented me from finishing…the task just seemed so monumental that there was no point in starting, even when I had already finished everything but the discussion. I literally sat on my ass and watched my puppy for three weeks instead of working on it. When I finally did start writing again, all it took was a week for me to finish! Of course, it’s not done until I get my committee’s signatures and turn it in, which will probably require several painful revisions, but at least I’m over the first hurdle. I just hope my major professor can put his narcissism aside for a moment and not nitpick every word I’ve written. Not likely, but I can still dream…