SO, the summer has been and gone and it is well and truly SEMESTER 3. Notoriously the most difficult term of the course. This is because it is mainly orientated around Neurology and Neuroanatomy. Sigh. Who even cares about the brain??
As a bit of light relief I hung out with my housemate last night, because we have become a house mainly of hermits who have no ambition to embark on 'wild' nights out anymore. Paul and I turned out all the lights and snuggled up to watch 'Marley and Me'. Before I tell you the result of the film i will tell you that after we watched 'In pursuit of happyness' which left me with a dull and depressed ache in my stomach about the hardship of life and how some people work so so so so hard to provide for themselves and their family. Bear in mind this sadness, when the bloody Labrador died Paul and i were absolutely bawling, sobbing and steaming up our glasses. Paul was trying to laugh it off because the last time he cried at a film he was about 8 and it was when some dragon rider had to kill his dragon to save something or other and his mother had to remove him from the cinema because he was making such a fuss! I was genuinely annoyed at myself that what is, yes, a sad event had got me worse than basic human suffering.
Yesterday wasn't really the best day anyway-the head of our year gave us a preparatory lecture for our next 2 cases. I quote, 'Year 2, i know the last week has been hellish for you and that a lot of people are struggling with the workload. Well good news- you're all going to have to rearrange your priorities because these next cases are worse. good luck'. THANKS FOR THAT.
NOTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT.
So like most of my contemporaries i have been thinking about why i am putting myself through this. After our case, after that lecture i met up with 'the good medics' (see previous notes on my general opinion of medical students: these are the exception) and we went to the pub. it was HALF 3 and no one cared. We came to no conclusion but it was nice to be in the same boat as a friendly few. This year is hard.
This morning, post 'Marley and me' I opened my door to find an envelope addressed to me and it was with joy that i opened it to realise that it was from Mr Witherow. Mr Witherow was the orthopedic consultant who in no uncertain terms, rebuilt my foot. I wrote to him this summer thanking him for doing a brilliant job and he wrote back.
It was quite a long letter, I'm not going to go into it, but i did find it somewhat a boost to my motivation. Not that i ever consider sacking it all in but sometimes wise words from someone who knows what its like is nice. He told me to always remember to eat lunch...and on that note, I'm hungry.....
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