Michelangelo Meets Biochemistry

Note: I know this is not the ACTUAL Sistine Chapel. I took a bit of artistic license with the joke. 

Choices, Choices

As I study for the MCAT, it's difficult not to get bummed out sometimes. (A lot of times, actually.) I am a very good standardized test taker, and I did very well in all of my pre-requisites. So while I was aware that the MCAT isn't like other standardized tests, and isn't like a regular classroom test either, I expected I would adjust to it quickly. But it's a lot more challenging than I expected. I am working on practice questions now, and after one especially brutal set of physics questions, the phrase "emotional bludgeoning" came to mind. That's how I felt. I know the concepts and the equations backwards and forwards, upside down and rightside up. But when it comes to those questions, even I, who normally don't have major test anxiety, feel panic well up inside me. Then I waste precious seconds and energy worrying, seconds and energy that I should be applying to the question at hand.

My very wise mother and I were talking about my struggles yesterday. And about her own struggles with her job, and its frustrations. She reminded me: "We always have a choice." By that, she meant that we can choose to panic, to worry, to be negative, to let what is going on bring us down. Or we can choose another path. The path of living in the moment, of doing what we can with the time that is given us, of focusing on what we can control. This is not some naive attitude that everything will be wonderful. This is changing your attitude so that whatever situation you are dealing with - a situation which may or may not change - doesn't rule your life. 

We always have a choice. I always have a choice. You always have a choice.

Another phrase that my mom and I frequently quote to each other is the famous British saying "Keep calm and carry on." It's a quotation that has become quite popular of late, with many iterations available on T-shirts, mugs, notebooks, stickers, you name it. I found one on the Internet that is quite fitting for me today. 

Again, it's making a choice - to maintain your calm, to be sure and steady, to do what you need to do. Unfortunately, unlike when choosing between steak and lobster at a restaurant, it doesn't all end with making one choice. You have to choose again. And again. And again. But I believe it's a choice well worth making.

Avogadro's ... Donkey?

In all this mad MCAT studying, I have come up with some absolutely terrible jokes (some of which I have shared here). Apparently, I have rubbed off on one of my dear friends, who is studying for the chemistry GRE right now. She told me this one today, and I couldn't help but share it.

Hee-haw, hee-haw ...

Beware the (MCAT) Apocalypse

In the little free time I have lately, some of my "therapy" has been playing with my photo editing app on my iPad, and just having a little artistic fun. OK, maybe not so artistic, but definitely fun. I found this roadside sign image and just had to make an MCAT "collage" from it with my test date, May 23.

Cheers and best wishes to all of you who are taking the MCAT in the coming weeks and months!

T-Minus 6 Weeks

I take the MCAT exactly 6 weeks from today. The photo below IS my life right now. Thankfully, my lab supervisor gave me some time off (completely of her own volition - thank you SO much, Mari!) so I will have lots of quality time to spend with these books. Um ... hooray?!

Organic Demons

This is what happens when you study organic chemistry for too long. You think of (and create) things like THIS:

A Hamburger, and a Lesson About Medicine

Last Friday I learned an important lesson about being a doctor - at Five Guys Burgers and Fries.

I was waiting at the counter for my order. Standing next to me was a woman, probably in her 60s, with a walker, also waiting for her food. There must be something about me that looks friendly, because this woman started a rather personal conversation with me. I'd had a rough day, wasn't really in the mood for chatting, but I could tell she needed someone to talk to. So I listened. The woman told me she'd had heel fusion surgery around Thanksgiving, and was very unhappy with the result. As I listened, I realized it wasn't the actual result of the surgery that frustrated her, but it was the disconnect between the surgeon's optimistic attitude and her realistic outcome.

I know there are two sides to every story, and obviously I haven't heard the surgeon's side. So it's quite possible that back in November, when she and her surgeon were discussing the surgery, she heard what she wanted to hear. Her take-home message from those conversations, though, was that by June she would be wearing summer sandals and walking normally. "Instead," she told me, "I will be wearing a brace that goes halfway up my leg."

I don't know for sure, but I think the woman would have been less angry if she felt she had gotten a more realistic prognosis from her doctor. True, it is important for physicians to give their patients hope. But it has to be an honest hope. As a doctor, I think you have to present the various scenarios that could  happen. Not to frighten your patients, but to prepare them.

It's a fine line to walk, clearly. Optimism and hope can motivate a patient to work harder, to believe he or she can get better. But if you only present the best case scenario, you run the risk of angering your patients, of losing their trust. This woman didn't say so directly, but I could imagine her considering a lawsuit against her surgeon. Not because he botched the surgery, but because she felt lied to, misled.

As I said, I don't know the whole story here, so I am certainly not passing any judgment on this surgeon. It could very well be that this woman completely misunderstood what he told her. And as a doctor, you can't control what patients decide to believe, or what they choose to hear. Even so, I think it does fall on the physician to do all he or she can to present the situation honestly to the patient. With optimism, yes. But also with realism. Because once that trust between a physician and patient is broken, I think it is very difficult, if not impossible, to repair.