I get to be a sorta-kinda-almost doctor now!

Paige-header3

Well, it’s here, that moment we’ve all been waiting for when we are unleashed up onto the hospital wards and allowed to actually take care of patients. No, we’re not doctors yet…but we are 3rd years and with that new title comes the time to close (most of) our books, leave the lecture halls and learn, quite literally, on the job.

This week I began my 6 week rotation on OB/GYN. With my crisp, clean, new white coat with personalized embroidery and blast-from-the-past beeper in hand, I looked like a doctor but sure didn’t feel like one! I would be lying if I didn’t say that I am quite literally terrified of what this year has in store.

IMG_1584

In my past 18 years of education I have mastered the art of having teachers present material to me and then regurgitating it back to them on exams. Classrooms, books, and tests have defined my entire life. But now I have a new set of teachers, my patients, and the final exam is no longer a set of multiple-choice questions, but instead involves the health, well-being, and wholeness of a person.

Today I scrubbed into my first surgery, a vaginal hysterectomy/cystocele & rectocele repair/sling placement, and it was awesome!!! I felt completely incompetent wandering around the halls of the OR suites and mostly just tried to do my best to stay out of everyone’s way. It’s terrifying to feel like I have no clue what I’m doing, but at the same time I know that I’m doing my best to learn fast.

10458871_10204186902057404_8518392090933193473_n

Despite my best efforts, I know that I will make mistakes. My hope for this year is that I will not lose sight of the fact that each decision I make and the effort that I put into learning during the next 2 years of clinical training will have an impact on countless people either for the good or for the bad. I hope and pray that I will be able to honor the patients that put their lives in my care by learning absolutely everything that they have to teach. I also desire to learn from my residents and attending physicians who have an infinitely more advanced depth of knowledge and experience. I hope that I will not take one moment of this next year for granted for the formative power that it has on my training to be a caring, compassionate, and knowledgeable physician. Despite the apprehension and uncertainty that I feel when thinking about beginning this new year, I am also excited for the new experiences that will come my way!

Saying Goodbye to 2nd Year

Paige-header3

Many people have said that the second year of medical school is the hardest and most grueling year of all.  I’ve heard countless people tell stories of how busy, exhausting, and completely consuming 3rd year is, but it is always followed up by the statement, “But I’d take just about anything, including getting hit by bus, over 2nd year.”

To be completely honest, this was in fact one of the most challenging years of my life for reasons that extended far beyond the rigorous course work that we were faced with each and every day and the ever-looming presence of Step 1 (the exam that makes even other medical licensing exams cry themselves to sleep out of fear).

HOWEVER, I can honestly say that despite the challenges that we faced this year, I will look back on 2nd year with fond memories and a never stronger sense of the presence of God’s guiding hand in my life.  Let me take you through a quick whirlwind tour of what the end of this year was like and what made it so challenging, but I promise there’s a light at the end of the tunnel so keep reading!

From January on, the only thing that 2nd year medical students across America have on their minds is Step 1. This is the mother of all exams; it is 8 hours long and covers all of the content that we have learned in the first 2 years of medical school – anatomy, physiology, cell & molecular biology, immunology, behavioral science, biostatistics, preventive medicine, biochemistry, pharmacology, pathology, pathophysiology, psychiatry, and neurology.  Now this test wouldn’t be such a big deal if it didn’t have so much weight toward which field of medicine we will ultimately be able to enter.  It’s basically the MCAT of residencies and our scores will either make us eligible for competitive specialties like surgery, ophthalmology, radiology, or not.  The saddest part, in my opinion, is that students who may excel in those fields because of their clinical skills and passions may not have the chance to experience those professions because this exam holds so much weight in residency applications.  This was one of the things that I struggled with the most near the end of the year.  I watched countless classmates, who I know will be incredible healers struggle beneath the weight of the pressure that this exam places on students.  The tensions were certainly high and at times the morale was low, however, I can say that the silver lining through it all was learning to trust more in the fact that God has called us to this place to serve in a profession that he will placed us in.  If he has gotten us all this far, then surely he will see us through to the end.

Despite the challenges that we faced during 2nd year, I promised that there would be a light at the end of the tunnel.  Medical school is a process that is so much more than simply learning how to be a doctor; it is a process that challenges people at the very core of who they are and I can honestly say that I have enjoyed that challenge.  I’ve been stretched and forced to grow in ways that I could have never imagined.  I have been required to search for the true reasons why I chose to enter this profession.  I have made the best friends of my life because of the common struggles that we have faced together.  I have been inspired to grow in my walk with God.  I have learned more than I ever thought was possible.  And I have been humbled by the realization that I will never be able to learn everything there is to know about the workings of the human body.  Although the process has been challenging, frustrating, and seemingly impossible at times, I now stand on the other side of the first two years of medical school and can say with confidence that I wouldn’t change anything and would do it all over again in a heartbeat.

 

I would be remiss if I did not take a moment to thank the incredible people who helped make this year both meaningful and enjoyable!:

IMG_1681

My study buddies, Scott and Justin.  We met both years for 2 hours almost every night, 6 hours every Sunday, and ran through at least 45,000 flashcards – about 15,000 cards times a minimum of 3 repetitions. I couldn’t be more blessed or more thankful to have had them by my side through this journey.

 Commencement Dinner 3

My fellow “Carrelers,” Keri, Krisalyn, Melissa, Stephen, James, David, Linden, Casey (not all of whom are in this picture). I spent my afternoons studying with these wonderful friends in the Study Carrels of Alumni Hall throughout 2nd year.  I have been continuously inspired by each and every one of them and have been spiritually and emotionally uplifted by each of their friendships.

1655751_802872326397872_3916717946032464044_o

Dr. Werner, our famed professor of Pathophysiology and the Dean for Medical Student Education to whom we owe our gratitude for continuously inspiring us to never stop learning and to be the absolute best physicians we can possibly be.

10293784_787175147967590_329905052730903559_o

And my classmates, who I love with all my heart!  Coming to Loma Linda and joining these incredible, talented, brilliant, God-fearing, and all-around absolutely wonderful people was the best decision of my life!

My First Delivery

Ryan, Third Year Medical StudentIt was early Monday morning, my first day working in Labor & Delivery while on my OBGYN rotation. After my last clinical experience, Family Medicine, when the workday began at 9 AM, waking up at 4:30 AM to finish responsibilities before rounds in the postpartum unit had me yawning and rubbing my tired eyes quite often. I was pretty excited to start L&D after hearing stories my wife, an L&D nurse, would excitedly tell from time to time. But in those first few moments, nothing seemed to shake the fatigue of an early morning. That is, until my attending’s pager started crying for attention.

L&D Team Babienco! #OBGYN #latergram #LLUSM

My Wife & I, Team L&D!

I was warned that between all the students and interns, the opportunity to participate in a delivery might not present itself very often. But there I was, not 2 hours into my first shift and Loma Linda’s newest life didn’t want to wait for rounds to finish before making a sudden appearance. My attending took off, and not wanting to miss an opportunity, I followed, leaving the rest of our team behind in the postpartum unit. “Do you mind if I come too?” I asked, trying to catch up, “I’ve never seen a delivery before!” She motioned for me to follow, not slowing a bit.

Walking into the patient’s room, I discovered a very busy scene. To some, the room might have looked like chaos, what with the 4 family members crowded around the head of the soon-to-be mommy’s bed, a husband helping one of the nurses hold up his wife’s legs as she pushed, and 10 or so other individuals busy with something. But at this point in my medical education, I didn’t see chaos; I saw a well-oiled machine, each health care member working together as a team, covering every need. A senior resident, already gowned up and prepared to deliver the newborn, was standing at the foot of the bed, counting to 10, and telling his patient when to push. There was a small team of NICU pediatricians, ready to assess the newborn (there was some concern for fetal distress). And there were several nurses monitoring vitals and ferrying items to and from mom.

Taking it all in, I was suddenly surprised as a surgical gown package was smacked into my chest. “Better hurry and gown up,” my attending was telling me, “you don’t want to miss this! What’s your glove size?” Wait, she expected me to do more than just watch? Seeing the question on my face, she spoke up again as she pointed toward the senior resident, “You did well on this in the simulation lab, Dr. Brown* will do it with you now.” She smiled a warm look of reassurance. “Now get that gown on or you’ll miss it!”

Untitled

Suit up! Typical Delivery Attire

Just as I had learned earlier in the year (à la My Laparoscopic Camera), I had no time to question. I put on surgical boots and a mask, and then carefully and quickly self-gowned and gloved, making sure my outfit stayed sterile. A nurse came up behind me to help tie my gown, quickly followed by the inevitable jokes about my height and how hard it was to reach the Velcro tie at the nape of my neck. But I barely even heard, I was too busy going over the steps of delivery in my head.

As I approached the foot of the table, the senior resident acknowledged my presence and stepped to the side. Now, from here on out, I won’t go into too much detail; as most of you moms already know, some could consider birth a gory experience! At the point I joined the delivery, you could already see the very top of baby’s head, and two or three more good pushes would have us celebrating a birthday. Dr. Brown took my hands, positioned them over baby’s head, then placed his own over top of mine as he helped me guide baby into a new world. “Alright, give me one more good push!” Dr. Brown instructed, looking up at mom with encouragement.

Next thing I knew, a tiny face was staring up at me, looking surprisingly peaceful. We checked to see if there was an umbilical cord around her neck, then delivered each shoulder, one after the other. With one more push and a gush of fluid, I was suddenly holding a baby girl! For a moment, time froze; it was the most disgusting and yet beautiful thing I had every seen. She was perfect, with her tiny fingers, eyes, ears, nose… “Clamp!” I snapped out of the brief moment and held baby as her cord was clamped in two spots, daddy coming over to cut. He was a brawn looking man, and I could tell he was trying pretty hard, and pretty unsuccessfully, not to cry.

Normally, baby would have immediately gone to her mommy’s chest. The practice of immediate “skin-to-skin” helps with bonding, provides warm, and eases baby into easier breast-feeding (among other things), but in our case, the NICU team wanted to assess the newborn due to some meconium present during labor (meconium is baby poo while in the womb; it can indicate distress). As I handed baby to the NICU team, she gave out a hearty, strong cry, and I knew everything was going to be ok. After a quick check, the NICU team confirmed my relief by smiling and bringing baby over for some of that important skin-to-skin time. At this point, dad had pretty much lost his composure as he and his wife embraced their brand new daughter. It’s tough finding words to describe the moment that was in front of me. 100%, unadulterated love. Pure joy.

For me, there was no time to get caught up in the emotion of it all as we still had to do some stuff you never really hear about after a delivery. The placenta still needed to be delivered and inspected, mom’s uterus had to be massaged to help stop postpartum bleeding, and any lacerations from delivery needed sutures. This happened without problem, and because I mentioned my plans of specializing in emergency medicine, I even got to do the suturing! As I took off my soiled gown, Dr. Brown and my attending both affirmed I had done a good job, which frankly, felt pretty awesome. I then washed my hands, gave congratulations to the new family (along with receiving a grip-crushing handshake from dad), and stepped outside the room.

Me with Some of the Coolest Nurses in the Hospital

That’s when it hit me. Oh my goodness, I just pulled a new life into the world!! Pretty cool. I’m so grateful that even though I’ve less than a month left to go in my third year, even with another huge board exam looming over my head, I’m still finding moments like these.  Not to mention in 17 short weeks I’ll be doing this again as the dad!

Untitled

My Son at 22 Weeks. 3D Ultrasounds are Amazing!

Even though I thought I couldn’t have any more respect for my mom, I certainly do after participating in that first delivery. Props to my mom and all the moms out there that have the strength to carry us and the patience to raise us into respectable men and women. And with that, there’s less than two weeks to go until I’m a 4th year medical student! Stay tuned!!

*Name changed to protect privacy.

How did a year go by so fast?

Tiffany, First Year Medical StudentWow I cannot believe how much I have learned this year! After completing 2 weeks of tests, one week of normal in house exams and one week of finals/national mock boards, I wasn’t feeling super knowledgeable. I was wondering was this whole year a waste? I was exhausted and literally going blind from studying non-stop for 3 weeks. But now I am on wards in Internal medicine and I can clearly see how much I have learned. Everyone says that you’ll be amazed by how much you learn but I didn’t know how amazed I would be. I recognize some basic medications, bio-chemical pathways, visual signs of diseases, tests, and lab workups. Instead of just nodding at what the residents are saying I actually understand almost every word and for once in my medical career I do not doubt that I can do this. I was even able to complete a history and physical exam. Don’t get me wrong there is still SO much that I do not know but I am confident that in 3 years I will be able to graduate and become a competent Intern.

My first year of medical school has been filled with many ups and downs. Good grades and not so good of grades, days when I felt like I learned a lot and days that I felt were a complete waste, and feelings of excitement for what my future holds and feelings of terror for what my future holds. Some days I had to remind myself that this is an opportunity I have been working towards my whole life and have even begged God to give me. I would never have been able to make it though this year without the incredible support of my family, friends, husband and God. What has gotten me though the hardest of days is knowing that I am pursing a career that I know God has called me to do. And He doesn’t make mistakes so obviously I am supposed to be here. Since I was a little girl I have felt that I was put on this earth to be a physician but it wasn’t until later in my life that I realized it was God’s call to service that I was experiencing. I thank Him for giving me this chance and believing in my capabilities when I didn’t believe in them myself.

Here’s to two more weeks on pediatric wards and then summer vacation! I will be running a summer camp research project and traveling to Greece, Turkey and Austria with my mom. It’s going to be a busy but fun summer. See you all in the fall.

Outgrowing My Short White Coat

Ryan, Fourth Year Medical StudentMy white coat doesn’t seem to fit anymore.  I haven’t gotten any larger through medical school, so it’s not that.  My wrists stick out at the sleeves, the hem rests roughly at my hip bones, and the pockets are up so high that putting my hands in them makes me look like I’m doing the Chicken Dance.  But it’s always been that way, and that’s not what I’m referring to.

I know what orders I should write, but I can’t write them.  I can write a fantastic progress note, but it doesn’t go in the chart.  Nurses ask me management questions and I know the answer, but I have no authority to give the answer.  I can form an air-tight assessment and plan, but no one can bill for it.

It seems I have outgrown my short white coat.

It didn’t used to be this way. I remember trying on my first white coat, on the first day of medical school, in that little room underneath the Dean’s Office. It was perfect, a pristine symbol of learning, of caring, of healing. And it didn’t fade for awhile. I loved physical diagnosis labs, freshman ward experience, and continuity clinic during first and second year. I looked up to the third and fourth year students in their white coats, which were actually embroidered with their names. They would come in to Centennial Complex for their OCSE practical exams, and I knew that they were stepping back into the simulator from the real thing, the opposite of what I was doing.

And at the end of second year I picked up my two brand new, pressed, embroidered, personalized white coats, ready to start clinical rotations. That was an even more meaningful symbol for me than the original white coat. I had arrived. After two years of basic science study, I was actually learning how to take care of patients. It felt good to put on that white coat and to wear it around. It meant something.

Now, that symbol is old. I don’t like wearing my short white coat anymore. I feel like it’s holding me back. I’ve done all of my clinical rotations, been in the surgeries, learned the operative indications, repaired the lacerations, counseled the patients, and passed the exams. I’ve matched into an orthopedic surgery residency. Now when I put on my white coat, it feels way too short.

It’s not that it’s bad to be a student; I couldn’t have gotten to this point without going through it. And it’s not that it’s bad to have a short white coat; I could only learn how to be a resident by being a student. It’s just that I’ve outgrown it.

And that’s the way it should be.