Yesterday was a day of wonders.
I do wonder how people think sometimes.
Let me tell you a story:
In lecture, we had two guest speakers, a mother and her daughter, who suffers from Glycogen Storage Disorder (GSD).
GSD is an extremely rare autosomal recessive disorder and usually diagnosed upon birth.
What the disease boils down to is this: the daughter, I’ll call her G, cannot breakdown stored sugars for energy in her body. So, much like a diabetic, she has to monitor her sugar levels very carefully. In addition, G has to eat something low sugar, high carbohydrate every 3 to 4 hours! Including in the middle of the night.
G’s mother has my admiration.
She reminds me of my own mother, advocating for her sick child and just simply doing whatever is in her power to fight for her kid.
Part of her story was how it was a struggle to go to an unfamiliar E.R. in crisis and the doctors and nurses not listen to what she would say.
G’s mother knew exactly what G needed in the E.R.: a glucose line.
But part of the problem was doctors not knowing either how serious of a disorder this was or:
not believing G or her mother.
The takeaway: as someone living with the disease, G does know what she’s talking about. As does her mother.
It was a great talk and really eye opening to the disease.
But the wonder came later.
And I’ll admit, I understand.
On some level, I understand where people are coming from.
But it doesn’t lessen the shock value any.
Multiple times yesterday and even today, people commented on the fact that:
They never considered that the patient would know more about their own disease than a doctor.
To which my reply is, Duh.
They are obviously alive, which to me, means that the patient is handling their disease.
Which you do through knowledge.
Doctors don’t know everything.
These future doctors better remember this lesson years to come.
It’ll make patients respect you a whole lot more.
I took my first quiz today in medical school.
But I’m not surprised.
I’m barely upset.
Maybe I’m just numb.
I don’t know how to study the amount of material.
I feel like everyone is so much smarter than me.
Ask me if I care.
Like seriously. Ask me if I care.
Because when you walk in and start to tell me about your day. About the ‘array of emotions’ that YOU experienced.
I don’t give a shit.
Not when you can’t even bother to ask me about my day.
Or how I’ve been.
It’s you making me not care.
I’m in so far over my head.
I don’t even know where to begin.
It’s not even like I’m swamped with material.
But I don’t know what to do with what I have.
Especially since it’s basic right now and I feel like it’s not…hard? It’s mostly review really.
Everything has to be learned though.
And, since I’m a worrier:
I’m worried about the quiz on Friday. What if I’m studying everything all wrong?
2 days into classes and still not sure if I have a clue.
The schedule is something to get used to, as it is definitely busy with lots of reading to do. Which makes it hard to adapt to when I’m still coming off of summer mode. And an easy last semester. But doable when I think about it.
I lunch by myself today. And I still have an hour left to figure out what to do with my time. I could study.
I don’t mind eating by myself I guess. But I think it just points out to me the fact that I still don’t have a set group of people.
Which I have to remind myself is okay.
And I’m still working on how to take notes.
Printing seems like it’ll rack up the print cost.
Plus it all seems tiny to save paper.
Although I’m not used to typing them either.