Bye Bye Birdie

Onam is over. It was like one of those "all you can eat" fests, only, all you can eat are vegetables. Bleh. But the payasam (a sweet dish made of milk, sugar and other traditional Indian savouries, says a reliable source) partly made up for the lack of animal protein, but it took a long evening session with the psychiatrist living in our fridge, Dr. Fried Chicken, before I got over my disappointment.

My Mom and I are starting on our "travelling around the world" thingy next week. We travel a whopping 950 kilometres (590 miles) from home. (If this does not, for some strange reason, seem that long a distance to you, you should remember that my Mom considers the trip to our local supermarket a journey around the country.) And we shall get back only after a very long time (two days). That means, I... Won't be missed here at the blog. *sigh*

You know what is the funnier than having no more exams? Thinking you have more exams. Five years of medical college (synonymous with "exams") does that to you. During those rare moments when reality sinks in, I start grinning like the loon that my college bears full responsibility for creating.

It didn't spare my brain.

Because of the frequency with which my professors threw around the E-word, all of my previous trips in the last few years involved my lugging around twice my weight in textbooks. I don't have to this time. Yay! *more grinning*

See?

Can you tell that I'm super excited? Because I am. I can't wait until next week, but, SURPRISE! I have to. Because that is how time works, apparently. Join me, people, in booing and throwing rotten eggs at Entropy's smug face.

arewethereyetarewethereyetarewethereyetarewethereyetarewethereyetarewethereyet

I promise to write about my trip, but you are not allowed to hold me to it. Because I am lazy. And will not start packing until an hour before we leave. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out where this is going, does it? But as any rocket scientists (hello there!) reading this will know, I will by now have acquired 'quick packing skillz' and I will merely spend all my shopping money on toothbrushes and bath towels. I am guessing that only Douglas Adams will want to know about my towels, and he is, well, dead.


Adieu, my friends. And no, I won't panic.

Happy Onam!

Just a week into my vacation, and I miss (in moderation) those crazy days back when I was studying for some exam or the other. Turns out the TV and the Internet lose a lot of their charm when you are not supposed to be buried beneath a textbook. Also, I am not able to use the classic "I have exams!" excuse to get out of social commitments. Weddings, funerals, births, housewarming parties, random visiting of people, you can find me at all of these events now. And elderly relatives rejoice at having obtained yet another victim to play guessing games with. "No, Aunty, I have no idea who you are."

Anyway, tomorrow is Onam. Have a great one!



Thinking of the sadya (feast) now...

The Unbearable Joy of Being Free

Guess who?


A/an (Microsoft ClipArt) image of (what Bill Gates thinks is) a doctor, of course!

The good news is that ALL of my exams are over and I am free to do as I like until my results are announced, and that will not happen for at least six weeks.

The bad news is that there is no bad news. For me, that is. In your case, you might have to read a lot more stuff from me, since I have all this time on my hands.

My Mom and I are planning to go around the world (read '500 km max'), which means that lucky, lucky you will get to read about my Indian Railway Adventures, AKA How to Pee While Holding Your Nose With One Hand and Keeping the Door Shut With the Other. Then again, being us, making plans and actually executing them are light years apart, so all you might have to put up with may be thrilling tales of How My Mom Resisted Temptation at the Supermarket.

Peccavi

Wait a minute.

I did not give a blow-by-blow account of Ze Exams, did I?


The theory papers were all pretty shitty. Just thinking about the Surgery one makes me want to go cower in a dark corner.

Thinking

The practical exams were all right. Except for the Paediatrics one, which was great.

So yeah. I am done. Five years of medical education has given me an appreciation for free time like nothing else on earth could have. I am off to enjoy it.

Toodle-oo.

Say You'll Miss Me

This is it.

If I live to tell the tell of how I got through the final exams in my final year of study, you shall hear about it. If not, a short prayer for my eternal soul will be appreciated. Amen!


Why do I have such a lamb to the slaughter feeling about the exams?

Eggs and Jams

I have to wear my glasses all the time now. All the reading I do gives me headaches. Which automatically implies that I am doing a lot of reading, but no, that would be untrue. I try to get a lot of work done, and end up watching TV with the Bailey, the Love of life, on my tummy to make me feel the 'weight' of my actions. And also give me mesenteric ischaemia, but don't you worry about that.

Now, some of you might remember how I had exams a few weeks ago, and how, we got the wrong question paper on one of them, but had to take the exam anyway. I figured this happened because the department screwed up, but nope, the University screws up, too. The same thing happened during the final exams at one of the medical colleges in Kerala (says the Malayala Manoharama, which is better off being rolled up for use in your toilet than being read). But they cancelled the exam, so it was not quite as bad as our situation.

Anyway, the results of that caper are out, and well, I managed to do quite well. From this episode, I have learnt a valuable lesson, not to study for exams. All the ones I work my rear off for earn me the bare minimum, but the one I did not read for gives me stellar marks. Our education system is funny.

Speaking of the education system, I believe the country is going to the dogs, with the class X board exams about to be made optional. I understand the bit about the pressure on students and families, having gone through it myself, multiple times, with the boards and the entrance, but hoo boy, those were nothing compared to what I am going through now. And that is just my personal life. I am just glad I had the practice.

I just recovered from yet another respiratory infection. My lungs were probably bored with oxygenating my blood, day in and day out. They made a heroic bid for escape, but the antibiotics (for which I paid through the nose) and the cough medication made them change their mind. Drug companies should start offering me discounts, I am their best customer in this area.

Our teachers are on strike, hopefully, this will end before our exams. The sooner they begin, the sooner they get over, and the sooner I am free. Exams kill my appetite, ulcerate large areas of the epithelial lining of my mouth, and make me lose my hair in clumps (with a small contribution from my side, by tearing them out whenever I go crazy, which is often).

For those who like their mouths full of words, here is what I was reading: Membranoproliferative Glomerulonephitis.

It looks pretty, but does dastardly things to your kidney.

All right, the break took longer than I expected, and I need to go to the library today, to read some Orthopaedics with my friend Eli.

As they say in mangled Italian, chow!

TTFN, Exams!

So my internal exams are done with, and I have no need to set foot in college for another month. Which should make me sad, but, for some reason, I am glad. I badly need a break. I am sick of studying.

My final exams start next month, and my study holidays have begun. But I need to relax for a while before I attack my books once again. And while I'm off doing that, you guys take a look at some random pcitures on hard drive.

The surgeons' best friend, the haemostat, affectionately referred to as the artery forceps

My hand

A pretty bug

The beach in the rain

A pond. Really.

Some railway station

The view

The bane of my existence

I haven't been feeling entirely sane these last few weeks. Can you tell?

These Exams Are Killing Me (In More Ways Than One)

Some day, I will figure out the secret of not whining about how medicos have exams all the time. That will be the day I get a certificate saying that Dr. Adorable Pancreas is now a real doctor and look, she has a D.M. to prove it. Since you need an M.D. before getting a D.M., and they do not hand out M.D's to people who are not even M.B.,B.S. doctors, you will have to wait for about a decade for that.

*sigh*

The last few days have been very difficult. I have not seen my Dad in more than 365 days. At any rate, not in the flesh. He must miss me at least as much as I miss him, because every other day, we get together in my dreams to argue, and have Mom intervene only to have us both toss her out and continue to yell at each other. Just like old times.

The practical exams have started. These are just like the finals, only all the examiners are our own teachers.

For those of you who have not been following me on Twitter, this is what happened to me on my Ob-G exam. (Was that too obvious? Nah, subtlety is my middle name.)

Oh, remember Ob-G? My favourite subject? The blood and amniotic fluid fest? The sleepless nights in the labour room? Well, they conducted an exam. I get two patients, one pregnant (Ob), one *gasp* not pregnant (Gyn).

(If I had to see that, so did you. You are welcome. And I am guessing he really is pregnant. Dr. Google said so.)

I was getting the pregnant patient's history. You know, whether she had any bleeding (blood) or leaking (amniotic fluid), whether she drinks like a fish or smokes like a chimney, whether her grandfather had ingrowing toenails or not, the usual stuff. After a while, I noticed that she was acting oddly. She winced every time I asked her a question! Now, normally, people wince after I answer their questions, so I found this behaviour quite unusual.

Well, folks, on questioning her, she had these 'tummy aches that appeared on and off every few minutes' which was probably 'her breakfast, it tasted funny' and it was 'nothing'. Long story short, she was in labour, getting regular contractions. We packed her off to the labour room. And to all those smart alecks who might accuse me of worrying her to the point that she went into labour, she had had the pain for a few hours already, but 'the idli worsened it'. I do not blame her for that, those idlis are potent. It's our secret weapon which we will unleash on an unsuspecting enemy in the next war.

The Gyn patient, she was fun. She was admitted in a Gynaecology ward for 'aching knees'. Her friendly neighbourhood doctor had ordered an abdominal scan (WHY?) when she showed him her knee, and found a fibroid in her uterus. Don't try to make sense of this, I merely made up her history from scratch. Because that is the kind of amazing brain I have.

During my case presentation, I mentioned in passing that the patient's breasts and thyroid gland were normal, and the examiner grilled for an hour about the 'causes of galactorrhoea in pregnancy'. This is pretty technical, so I will not bore you with the details, but she got me to establish that milk secretion during pregnancy can even kill the foetus. Yes, it sounded absurd to me, too, but it's true.

We have to identify surgical specimens pickled in glass bottles, just like the good ol' days in Pathology. I was the lucky recipent of a specimen I had never before seen in a human being. Small wonder, because it was an inverted uterus.

I am pretty sure that the Universe hates me. Well, it has plenty of ammo left, the exams are not yet done with me.