Hello, from a little farther north!
It always seems as if something prompts me to write. For instance: my musculature and vascular pictures we draw during anatomy lecture have been rather detailed this week. Using my colored pencils to carefully blend the colors (in rainbow/chromatic fashion) of the overlying muscles, and not just writing the identifiers in, but creating a scripted appearance. Plus, my doodling on notes was entirely too mind consuming in one class today. Then, while talking about a specific nerve and its role when playing instruments, all I could think about was how I wanted to be sitting at my piano back home replaying old sheet music. And finally, each night I've needed random varieties of music filling the empty space while I study.
Clearly the creative part in me has had enough of being pushed out of the way by the five heavily scientific and analytical classes that consume 83% of my day.
Normally my time at the gym is where I can find some sort of escape. But even while in yoga class, my mind is full of random thoughts about which vertebrae are allowing the positions I'm molding my body into. And then what part of the brachial plexus the specific nerve stems from that is sending signals to the activated muscles holding me in downward dog...
So. As you can see, I need some sort of outlet. After cadaver lab today, completely overwhelmed, I blurted in the locker room that I just need to play tennis! Something about smacking the ball back and forth seems to be the catharsis I long for, but I have yet to find someone in the medical building that plays and is capable of hitting with me. So until then, writing is going to serve as my break; still using my brain, yes, but the opposite side.
Overall, the transition into Physician Assistant school has been fairly smooth. It takes "full-time student" to an entirely different level. I wake up and begin classes at 8am and usually end around 5pm. Then I sneak in a quick workout, eat something, and head back to the school for the evening, only in a study room versus lecture hall. And the cycle repeats. But the fact that it totally consumes your time isn't bad. It's the mass amounts of information that we cover in a single day that can swallow you whole if you let it. And then once you have todays info "mastered," you must quickly move on because there's a quiz the next day over a new load of material that will be introduced in the lecture to follow.
There's nothing easy about it, but regardless I truly enjoy all of my classes and instructors. Our major sciences are with the medical students and PT's. Talk about being surrounded by brilliance. Getting to know so many different people from a variety of backgrounds has been exciting. And trust me, you really get to know people quickly when you're elbow deep in dissecting for hours down in the cadaver lab! Our first round of tests starts next week, which currently has everyone spinning.
In terms of how my heath has been since the move, it wouldn't make sense for it to be "normal" for even just the first couple weeks, would it? I had some work done on my teeth a couple days before moving. My nonexistent thyroid can be credited for excess calcium leakage, therefore weakening the enamel. I was fine afterwards for about three days. Then progressively over the past two weeks, it got to the point that I could no longer eat, drink, or sleep. The pain in both areas of my mouth was one I've never experienced. Hydrocodone pills from previous surgeries didn't do a thing for relief. The first Sunday I was here, I was to the point that I could hardly function. No dentists would return my emergency line messages, so I drove myself to the ER, only to leave with a narcotic injection that didn't touch the pain, a new Rx for hydrocodone, and still no access to a dentist. I finally spoke to one that night (out of town), and the following morning was in his office an hour away, reviewing things. To make a long story short, he couldn't find anything wrong. Everything appeared normal. None of my symptoms were textbook. I was his "once a year situation" patient. A few days later with no relief from a variety of attempts, I was referred to an endodontist in that same town. He agreed that things seemed normal for the most part, but my symptoms didn't make any sense. However, he did proceed with surgery that afternoon. Once he cleared the way and got down in each area, infection came "shooting" out. When it was all over, he explained everything to me and shared how shocking it all was. He did not expect the results he found. Moral of the story? I don't have the best luck and an even crummier immune system. But thankfully this week has been remarkably different. I'm healing as I should and am back into my normal routine (aside from still some troubles eating)--just playing a lot of catch up from the time I lost on a diet of pain pills and merely going through the motions.
As horrible of an experience that entire ordeal became, I continually kept the notion that things can always, always, be worse. Because they can. And in many ways, I was remarkably lucky. Things could have progressed much further, causing other serious problems. And, two wonderful medical professionals were eventually placed in my path. This past Sunday, both my daily devotional and the readings/homily at mass was exactly what I needed to hear. Each talked about how an easy life is not the life Jesus intends for each of us. He brought turmoil into the world for a reason; because without struggle and difficulty, one would not seek assistance from the Man upstairs. Those times of adversity are reminders of our inadequacy, which is the perfect place to encounter God in His glory and power. A chance to give up the fight and let Him take over.
From the day I moved in, I knew I was in the right place. And that sense of contentment has only increased the further along I get into the program. Don't ask me how I know, I just do. Maybe this is one of those "weird feelings" that people always talk about. You know how the saying goes, "Well when you know, you just know." Trust me, I secretly laugh each time someone shares those words of wisdom too. But, I might sort of understand it now. And even more so, "I just know" I'm exactly where I should be because His plan for me is far greater than one I could ever draw for myself--even if it was every color of the rainbow, blended perfectly, and written in calligraphy. (See my anatomy drawings for an example.)
Unfortunately my phone is going off with texts from classmates stating the commute back to the medical building is underway and the studying must begin again...
Have a Happy Hump Day!
xoxo
