(no subject)
The feeling of being inadequate overwhelms me. Once again, I was a bundle of nerves this afternoon before my second appointment with the First Patient Ever. I'm totally fine with interacting with the patient - in fact, I like it much more than I anticipated - but I. Feel. So. Dumb.
So dumb. So not up to par. Clumsy, and stupid. I'm not asking for mad skillz, but like I said to JH outside of Sick Kids tonight, even if they don't give out NIs (needs improvement) this year, it doesn't mean much to me nor to the patient because I'm still a fuck up, regardless of the degree of fuckedupness. I don't want to let myself down. I don't want to let my patient down. And I just want to do the right thing. And I want to do it faster. I don't think that's too much to ask for. In fact, if I were the patient, I would not only demand but EXPECT that, like it's a god given right that it really is. I mean, you are there in the chair because you trust me (or my designation) to first do no harm and to second give you treatment for whatever ails you. That's what it means to be in that role. A responsbility. And somehow I need fulfill that. How?
I don't want to hide under the excuse of "I'm in second year. I know nothing." Because nobody cares. Once the patient is in the chair and you are holding instruments in their mouth, nobody cares about how much you whine about the world because all you need to do at that time is to deliver.
With every flinch, every comment, every gesture, I take it to heart. I do. It doesn't matter whether I should or not. I just do. With every little thing I did or did not do, I run it over my head, a billion times, and hope next time I will do differently again. I burn it into my memory. And it hurts. And it's tiring. And frustrating. But it hurts most of all.
JH says this feeling will prevail at every stage that we go through. Because it never ends. As much as I want to shed it, I know that it keeps me humble, and I'll need to remember it as I go on. But now, there is nothing like it to crush your self worth to bits.
Ok. More to chat, but I need to study for my ortho midterm tomorrow.
So dumb. So not up to par. Clumsy, and stupid. I'm not asking for mad skillz, but like I said to JH outside of Sick Kids tonight, even if they don't give out NIs (needs improvement) this year, it doesn't mean much to me nor to the patient because I'm still a fuck up, regardless of the degree of fuckedupness. I don't want to let myself down. I don't want to let my patient down. And I just want to do the right thing. And I want to do it faster. I don't think that's too much to ask for. In fact, if I were the patient, I would not only demand but EXPECT that, like it's a god given right that it really is. I mean, you are there in the chair because you trust me (or my designation) to first do no harm and to second give you treatment for whatever ails you. That's what it means to be in that role. A responsbility. And somehow I need fulfill that. How?
I don't want to hide under the excuse of "I'm in second year. I know nothing." Because nobody cares. Once the patient is in the chair and you are holding instruments in their mouth, nobody cares about how much you whine about the world because all you need to do at that time is to deliver.
With every flinch, every comment, every gesture, I take it to heart. I do. It doesn't matter whether I should or not. I just do. With every little thing I did or did not do, I run it over my head, a billion times, and hope next time I will do differently again. I burn it into my memory. And it hurts. And it's tiring. And frustrating. But it hurts most of all.
JH says this feeling will prevail at every stage that we go through. Because it never ends. As much as I want to shed it, I know that it keeps me humble, and I'll need to remember it as I go on. But now, there is nothing like it to crush your self worth to bits.
Ok. More to chat, but I need to study for my ortho midterm tomorrow.