One-Eighth MD

So at first I thought I had the "sleeping virus." No, that's not an actual disease, but if eventually it turns out to be real, I certainly won't be the first med student to have ever contracted it. The need for extra rest has gone on for about 10 days, maybe 2 weeks. This week especially; I slept in almost every day. I went to bed around 11 or midnight, and woke up at 9 am. Every day I went through my routine exhausted, and no amount of coffee could wake me up (in fact, it only made it harder to fall asleep later). I ruled out mono and swine flu since I've checked both of those off in college and this past fall, so what's the diagnosis, doctor?

Even though I've been sleeping 9-10 hours a night, it hasn't been good sleep. I wake up every hour or couple hours. But I'm not dreaming about relaxing on warm sand and feeling the cool breeze on a beach in the Caribbean. No, I'm waking up to thoughts of: "facial nerve cranial nerve seven pterygopalatine gland" or "buccinator mastoid stylo foramen alveolar confluence." Usually none of it makes sense. But now I dream anatomy, think anatomy, and wake up to anatomy. There's a pop song on the radio about how some girl is the last thing the singer thinks about at night when he goes to bed, and she's first thing he remembers in the morning. That's my relationship with cranial nerves and head and neck ontology. I think about anatomy all day and then again all night. So I've come up with the following diagnosis: I have "Tortuous Information Requires (too much) Energy Disease," also known by the acronym "TIRED." I am tired, and therefore I need Christmas Break.

It's been a long semester, and much has changed. We have been talking about this change in our Medicine in Society class. Since the middle of August, our family, friends, and even people we've never met, now view us differently. To most parents, we are no longer a son or daughter. We are their sons and daughters in medical school. And there's a difference. Since I've started school, the number of people who have sought my medical opinion has sky-rocketed. I've received texts and emails asking how to determine if someone has swine flu, whether a friend should go to a doctor, how a gun shot to the back can cause blindness, and "Do you think my hand is broken?" My two patients, whom I see through this class (Mr. and Mrs. Jones - Oct. 2nd post), even asked for my advice on how to talk to their physicians, and whether they should be more persistent about requesting more tests. A lot of the questions I get I wouldn't even direct to a resident, much less a 1st year medical student! But as we discussed this with our professor, we found this is par for the course from here on out. From the day we enter medical school until the day we die, we are now part of a different world.

Look at the things we've done. I've disemboweled, mutilated, cut, sawed, and hammered a dead body (illegal in all 50 states). I'm learning how to put in IVs, chest tubes, read radiographs, MRIs, and CTs. Patients tell me the most private information about themselves: their medical histories, their family histories, even their sexual histories. This is just the first four months of school. Imagine what I will have done and what I will learn in the next 7 semesters, and the years to come. It certainly has given me a lot to reflect on over the next two weeks of Christmas break. It is a power that is not to be taken for granted or taken lightly. I'm not a doctor; far, far from it actually. But the past few months have shed light on some of the responsibilities that come with that title. The question is, am I ready for it?

That's why I mean it when I say we are not half way through our first year of medical school. We are "one-eighth MD."