One Month...

This past week was new student orientation. It was refreshing (and somewhat annoying) to see all of these beaming students, proud to be admitted into their respective programs and excited to get started. My faculty eloquently described them as “blissfully unaware” of what exactly awaits them. Stress. Long nights/early mornings. Stinking like a cadaver all of the time. A full day of class (which hasn’t been since high school). The medical hierarchy. Low test scores. Dreams about anatomy lab. My classmates and I joke that our advice to our ‘little buddies’ would be to run as far away as possible. But in retrospect, I loved anatomy. I miss the late nights at school with my Physical Therapy buddies. I loved dissection and using coloring pencils during lecture. I don’t miss the stress. Oh wait, I still have it.

I haven’t been blogging about school this entire semester. I’ve started to write about it, but always seem to run out of time. I’ve decided that the objective of this semester is to see how far they can push you until you go crazy. I feel like I’ve been to crazy and I’m still there (though I hope to come back soon). Going to school during the summer has been incredibly difficult for me: I’ve never done it before, except in Spain (but let’s be honest, I didn’t really study that much: I learned more out of the classroom than in). My program has always been hard: 21 credit hours of professional-school intensity for 12 straight months can’t be easy. Add on it 30+ hours of class per week and some 80-100 clinic hours to fit between lectures and studying and you get an exhausted and incredibly burnt out individual. This summer I’ve eliminated anything that wasn’t a ‘need’: visits to the zoo with Jeff, institute class, and even working out everyday.

The classes have been harder, the expectations higher, and I think at this point it is more about endurance than intelligence. I feel as though my brain has called it quits: I tried all last week to study for the three tests and the project I had due, but it was unsuccessful. I picture my brain up there with its arms crossed, on strike. By finals it will have a union and picket line. Only one month left. Just keep swimming--I mean--studying, just keep studying…