(no subject)
Working at the Center for Victims of Torture www.cvt.org is Woah and Hard. I don't know who to talk to about this.
And I'm really terrified that I'll make a shitty resident next year. Things I don't know: how to put in lines, draw blood. I suck at suturing (looking forward to competency from surgery this summer). Managing a code = panic inducing (ALS/BLS will help)
I haven't applied for residency programs. I'm in denial.
I also haven't read my evaluations from my attendings. I assume they will say 'good w/ patients, good body of knowledge, weird dress, scattered.' The good stuff I don't need. The bad stuff I know already and beat myself up about. Its hard to convince myself that any good will come from reading evaluations.
I feel loser-ly writing this, still, I don't know what I want to do, who I want to be, or where to live.
Passed my 3001 Portuguese class that somehow condensed 2 years of college language in one semester. Feels great not to do even more work on top of medical school. This demonstrates (1) when stressed, I add even more to my plate (2) therefore creating lots of excuses for why fucking up was either (a) bound to happen (b) not really an indication of serious personal failures rather merely 'over scheduling.' I'm so smart. Really.
Did I mention how I feel really isolated? Yeh. I'm trying to spread out my internal dialog a thin layer over a broad group of people.
Went dumpstering to Macalester College, where in years past I was able to stock up on personal care products like fancy shampoo and conditioners, face soaps in addition to school supplies like highlighters and journals. College kids who move out in a hurry throw a lot of good stuff away. This year three private security guards prevent us hoodlums from dumpstering. But not before I could find a nice gap fall jacket brand new $68 price tag in place. Apparently, they say, someone threw out an entire piano.
A piano.
And I'm really terrified that I'll make a shitty resident next year. Things I don't know: how to put in lines, draw blood. I suck at suturing (looking forward to competency from surgery this summer). Managing a code = panic inducing (ALS/BLS will help)
I haven't applied for residency programs. I'm in denial.
I also haven't read my evaluations from my attendings. I assume they will say 'good w/ patients, good body of knowledge, weird dress, scattered.' The good stuff I don't need. The bad stuff I know already and beat myself up about. Its hard to convince myself that any good will come from reading evaluations.
I feel loser-ly writing this, still, I don't know what I want to do, who I want to be, or where to live.
Passed my 3001 Portuguese class that somehow condensed 2 years of college language in one semester. Feels great not to do even more work on top of medical school. This demonstrates (1) when stressed, I add even more to my plate (2) therefore creating lots of excuses for why fucking up was either (a) bound to happen (b) not really an indication of serious personal failures rather merely 'over scheduling.' I'm so smart. Really.
Did I mention how I feel really isolated? Yeh. I'm trying to spread out my internal dialog a thin layer over a broad group of people.
Went dumpstering to Macalester College, where in years past I was able to stock up on personal care products like fancy shampoo and conditioners, face soaps in addition to school supplies like highlighters and journals. College kids who move out in a hurry throw a lot of good stuff away. This year three private security guards prevent us hoodlums from dumpstering. But not before I could find a nice gap fall jacket brand new $68 price tag in place. Apparently, they say, someone threw out an entire piano.
A piano.