Hello friends, family, and familiar followers. I apologize for the lapse in updates. I stand before you today a free man, recently released from my bonds of studying and homework, sauntering listlessly into what most refer to as the final summer of my adult life. In only a few short hours, we shall embark together, you and I (though really mostly just I), on the adventure of a lifetime. More details on that to come. But first, I will enlighten and entertain you with the juicy, highly sought-after details of the final few weeks of my first year of medical school. Oh, and while I know that I have said this countless times in the past, this time I really mean it: I'm going to keep this short.
1. My final course for the year, Biological Basis of Disease (BBoD), took me on a fantastical, whirlwind tour through the world of microbes, antibiotics, and parasites -- we spoke intimately of diarrhea (more frequently than one might have hoped), as well as various other types of intestinal assaults, including my personal favorite parasite, diphyllobothrium latum -- a human tapeworm which can grow up to thirty meters in length and can produce millions of eggs per day. Astounding. BBoD was a great course; where it lacked in organization it made up ten-fold in entertainment. I love this stuff. A career in infectious disease could very well be in my future.
2. My final preceptorship for the year was spent with a trauma surgeon. I worked weekly in the trauma clinic, where I worked with various doctors in addition to my actual preceptor. Trauma clinic was a nice change of pace from my previous preceptorships because I actually got to spend a bit of time seeing patients myself (though patience, it seems, is not a virtue highly touted by surgeons, so I was rarely able to spend more than a minute or two with any given patient). That was all fine and dandy, but here is the really cool part. Though I rarely worked directly with my preceptor in the trauma clinic, there were a few times she was around. There were two occasions where she got called in to do a surgery and, lo and behold, I got to tag along. But to my (and surely your) surprise, I wasn't only invited to observe the surgeries, but to assist in them. Hands on. Scrubbed in. Fitted with my very own pair of specially-sized surgical gloves. The first case: a splenectomy following a skating boarding accident. For this one, I didn't do too much myself -- mostly just held some organs out of the way. No big deal. But I was right there, in the action. As for the next case -- well, you'll hardly believe the details. I wouldn't have believed it myself had I not been there. Which I was. In the operating room. That's the whole point of this paragraph. Haven't you been listening? Guh. Anyway, the patient was an elderly woman who had "degloved" (it's a word, I promise. Google it if you don't beleive me. Actually, on second thought -- don't) her leg whilst moving a couch. The idea was to simply remove the excess skin (which was essentially completely torn off, knee to toe) and to clean things up. However, after consulting with a plastic surgeon (who had fortuitously been meandering about nearby), we decided to kick things up a notch. Why make this woman go through another surgery in the future to graft skin from her buttocks over the wound (a standard procedure, as I understand it)? Why not, instead, take the degloved skin, run it through a machine to turn it into a mesh, and then stick it happily back on her leg, right then and there? Why not? Because it's way too crazy cool sounding? Psh. That certainly didn't stop us. That's right folks -- I actually got to assist, hands on, with taking this freshly degloved, necrotic, dying skin, trimming it up, thinning it out, removing the excess subcutaneous tissue, running it through what I can only imagine is called a meshifying machine (things in medicine are always very aptly named), and reattaching that sucker right back on her leg (yep, I even helped suture it back on). And the best part? A few weeks later, the graft was almost a complete take. We ended up likely saving this woman another trip to surgery, and probably trimmed several days off the rear end of her hospital stay (and trimmed nothing off of her rear end). Pretty flippin' fantastic, if ya ask me -- which I'm just going to assume you did. Because I know you value what I have to say. Why else would you be here?
3. I mentioned a while back that I had been looking into various opportunities for this summer. Well, I finally decided on a trip, worked out all the details, and in just about 36 hours, will be hopping on a plane to have the summer of a lifetime. Here's a very brief rundown: I'm going to Ecuador to work in rural, government run clinics for four weeks. Afterwards, I'm going to travel around on my own for two weeks. First off, I'm going to hit up THE GALAPA-FREAKING-GOS ISLANDS, a destination that has been centered in my sights for many years. I'll be doing a 6ish day cruise around the islands, enjoying some sunshine, surf, and--assuming all goes according to plan--catching a ride on the back of a Galapagos tortoise. And for the final week -- I'll be doing a 4-5 day hike to the top of Machu Picchu. I. Cannot. Wait. And I think I'll leave it at that. I'm planning on updating my blog throughout the trip, so be sure to check back frequently so you can live this life-changing experience vicariously through me. I mean, let's be honest...what else have you got going on? Water balloons and lemonade stands? Psh-ah! We both know your time would be best spent reading about my wacky antics. I mean, turtle surfing? Come on! How cool is that? So don't disappoint me! Be here.
Well that's about it. Fast forward a few weeks, several tests and lots of studying, and here I am, the free man I described to you at the beginning of this long (dang it! I did it again!) post. Well, I'm calling it quits here for the day. Be sure to join us again next time as our dashing hero embarks on a journey of epic proportions. You won't want to miss this one. Stay tuned.
Your stories are gross and amazing. Gramazing.
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