Return of the Prodigal Son

When I was getting ready to start school, I didn’t realize the extent of the sacrifices I’d be called upon to make. Before school began, we gave up our…gulp...Costco membership. It was hard to do, but we figured that we could go with someone else if we needed to get something. Well, six months later, I returned to Costco, this time, under the wing (membership card) of my father. Costco had a massage table that I wanted to get to do OMM (osteopathic manipulative medicine) on. One of the differences between an MD and a DO is that a DO is trained to correct skeletal and muscular dysfunctions in order to return the body to its natural state. Structure and function are so closely related, it only makes sense that if your framework is dysfunctional, other things must compensate or suffer along with it. We don’t only treat the spine (common misconception equating us with Chiropractors). We deal with all musculoskeletal issues. If you ask me, it is just another tool that I have to help improve the quality of peoples’ lives.

Anyways, I went to Costco to buy my table. This is it here. When I got it home, my kids were begging me to open it and give them a “massage”. They see me working on my wife and her family and now want their turn. It has been a couple of days and I still have not been able to give them their “massage”. They are funny. They are so supportive and excited for me. Emma (my 5 year old daughter), now says that she wants to be a doctor. It is hard for me to be away as much as I am. Even if I am home, I’m studying and not playing. There will be successive days in which I do not see them because I leave before they are up and get home after they are in bed. One day, Emma asked me if, “I was coming home today?” It just about broke my heart. That was in the midst of my crazy exam week a while back. Luckily, I was going to be home earlier that night. In fact, it was the morning of my Anatomy exam and I came home about 2:30 that afternoon. I played with the kids all that day and we even went out to dinner that night. I think I read Harry Potter to them for about an hour. It was a nice afternoon. I don’t get too many of those these days. Even though I am very driven and passionate about what I am doing, I am more passionate about my family. It is a difficult balance, but I try hard to make it work. I am sure that my grades suffer a little, but in the end what is really more important? They are sacrificing so much for me; it is only fair that I can sacrifice a little for them, too.

I had a splitting headache

Today may have been the goriest day yet in Anatomy lab. Yesterday (my preceptor day) the lab group studied the pharynx and throat structures. As you can imagine, those are difficult to see (from the outside). In order to make them visible, they bisected (cut) the posterior (rear) muscles of the neck and lifted the head forward off of the spine (the anterior muscles were still attached). Basically imagine looking down with your chin on your chest, and your head popping off and continuing to roll forward until your eyes and nose were flat on your chest. But that sure opened up the area.

Well, I went to lab today and my tablemates reviewed the structures identified yesterday. Not too bad. Then we got going on today’s dissection. We were studying the nasal cavity and related structures (sinuses, etc.). Of course, you can’t see all the way up and back through the nostril so obviously you have to split the head into the right and left halves. I mean, what else could you do? And just who do you think the hacksaw (yes, hacksaw) was handed to? Yours truly. Not that I really minded though. Sparing you the grossest details, suffice it to say that it sounds just like you’d expect it to.

After I got the head split, we commenced to clean out the nasal septum and some extraneous structures. My group and I spent a long time cleaning and were very meticulous. We exposed all of the nerves and arteries and stuff that we needed to see when a professor came up to look at our work. His eyes got big he smiled. He said that, "he’d never seen that successfully dissected out intact before." He was talking about a tiny nervous ball (ganglion, cool word huh) hanging from a delicate nerve. He called the other professors over to show them. We tried to look nonchalant about it, but we were really beaming inside. Then he got on the microphone and told the entire lab to come over to our table and see our dissection. We took grief after class for that, but I think that my classmates were genuinely impressed. As much as I enjoy anatomy lab (and I seem to be quite good at the dissections), I do hope that I am able to get into surgery.

I also got my scores for the last exam of the horrible last week. I got another "B". I apparently took the 6 B’s talk a little too seriously. I feel OK about it though since my score was the average grade. I seem to be scoring within 1-2 % above or below average in all of my classes. In undergrad I would have been disappointed, but this is a little different. It makes me optimistic for graduating and passing all of my boards, but I hope it is enough to get into a good residency.

Amanda Hugnkiss

My terribly difficult Anatomy exam that I took last Thursday was just that. Terrible! Or at least that’s what I expected as I walked out of the test. We got our scores back today. When scores are delivered, they put them into our mailboxes at school. It was like an Alaskan river during salmon spawning in the mailroom. There must have been 50 people in my class in there. The smell of apprehension was thick. I could actually hear pulses as I walked into the room. Apparently, everyone else felt as I did about our prospective scores of such a difficult exam. As I worked my way to my box, I passed many telling countenances, some smiling, some not. As I sidled up to my mailbox, I could see it inside, all pink and ominous (our anatomy practicals are done on pink answer sheets). For the moment, it was just me and that mailbox. I could feel my palms sweating; my heart racing. “Whoa there big fella”, I said. There’s still another exam to make up the points. As I reached down for my key, I had an uneasy feeling, like waiting for the warden to throw the switch. I slowly slid the key in, turned, and opened the door. Had it come to this? Was I really afraid of a pink paper? And as I felt my last ounce of courage begin to flee, I saw it; a “B”.

What happened next cannot be explained. I grabbed the guy next to me (good thing it was a guy and a straight one at that) and hugged him. He simply smiled and said, “Good news?” I closed my box and began to leave the room, a smiling salmon with my pink “B”.