I officially finished my first week as a third year medical student, also known as a “clerk.” As luck would have it, I was the first person in my class to be “on call” meaning I came to work on Tuesday morning for my first shift and didn’t leave the hospital until 6pm on Wednesday evening.  Oy.

The terrible hours aside, I am actually pleasantly surprised by my experience thus far. My attending and resident are great teachers, and I feel more comfortable in the hospital than I ever did last year with my preceptor.  I have surprised myself by how comfortable I am walking into a patient’s room. I interview them, examine them, and they seem to think I know what I’m doing (I don’t).

Perhaps the most surprising thing about this week is how quickly my classmates and I have gotten the hang of things. I don’t have to ask what I should be doing or where I should be going. In my head, this week was going to be full of aimless wandering, boredom, and feeling awkward. Instead, I’ve missed many (too many) meals rushing from one O.R. to the next, seeing patient after patient in clinic, and then all of a sudden my shift is over and my belly is empty.

I don’t have time to relay every story about all the interesting patients I’ve seen, but I thought I’d share one patient who has particularly stuck out in my mind. We had a patient in the hospital with Broca’s aphasia due to stroke, meaning he could understand everything we were saying to him, but only has the capability to say one word back to us. He tries to talk in sentences using his one word (I can’t say the word because of HIPAA concerns). For example, though, if a person with Broca’s only said the word “dog,” he would try to say “dog dog dog dog dog dog dog” with different intonation, inflection, and pauses as he tried to convey his thoughts. It is incredibly frustrating for all parties involved, as you can imagine. For some students, I imagine they would feel very uncomfortable with him, but when I was rouding with my resident, I was able to decipher some of what he was saying when she was at a loss. It was unlocking my own ability to communicate with him that gave me the confidence to visit him on my own without fear. He looks at me when I enter the room, and he smiles.

My day off is quickly coming to an end. I’m on call tomorrow from 6am-6am and continue working through until Monday night. Ryan has been amazing through all of this, and we’re trying to maintain normalcy throughout these crazy couple of months. That’s all for now but  more stories to come…

Adding to the previous list:

Beating hearts felt with my hand: 1

Translators used to interview patients: 2

Catheters inserted by yours truly: 1

Pig’s foot used for suture practice: 1