When I started medicine, I knew it would be difficult. However, I had no idea just how completely overwhelmed both I and everybody I know in the course would be feeling just a few weeks in. (Except for those of you who either don't study or who know it all already. But you are few and far between, and because you are either not going to be here much longer, or are clearly not human, you don't count. Sorry.)
Here is a rather creative (aka far-fetched) analogy: imagine you are told you have to familiarise yourself with every drop of water that comes out of a tap. That's ok, you think. If I work hard, I will be able to keep up. Suddenly you realise that it isn't a tap but a shower, one of those high-pressure ones with a million jet streams of water. And nobody is turning it down or off any time soon. And they still expect you to know the drops of water, even the ones that are down the drain and far, far away into the sewer of life.
Ok, so that was silly and rather badly-written. If I had more time and energy I would pen a haiku on the topic. In fact, here is one that I clearly didn't prepare earlier:
I stand in the rain.
Drops pouring down past me, scared.
Too much too fast - d'oh!
Enzymes and t-cells
are like Dutch or football games.
Some love them - not me.
If you're still here after that little bit of pain, congratulations.
Thank goodness there is a core group of us (well, I dabble in a few groups!) who are banding together and helping each other out. Many hands make light work! After all, I would consider it good practise for when we are out in the big bad world working as doctors. There are some people in the course who are, at times, silly. But the people I mainly work around are people I will be proud to call colleagues in a few short years. Thanks, guys.
If you do a similar thing for people you study with, thank-you, too. You clearly rock.
