She's so high above me

In med school, we have this lovely little thing called Problem Based Learning (PBL). Theoretically, we have this class right after morning lectures and we're given clinical cases to solve. As a group we identify key facts and learning issues, and then at the next meeting, we come back, make five minute presentations on our topic, and find out new information about Patient X. Unsurprisingly, these cases almost always correlate to what we had just learned that morning. The point of this class is for us to synthesize the material and teach it to our fellow classmates - thus helping us understand the eons of information we end up just memorizing when push comes to shove.

More often than not, PBL turns into a two-hour class of fun and camaraderie, as we make study guides and cheat sheets for the million different diseases we're learning, and spend the first fifteen minutes gossiping about what we did over the weekend.

Oh, and someone always brings food.

It's good stuff.

It's fun, and we all know that it's not as effective as just sitting in the library with our books. Even the preceptors know this. Most of them just sit there looking pretty, and interject only when someone makes a glaringly huge medical mistake like...'pregnancy is a disease state found in men' or 'cholesterol is not related to blood pressure.'

But it's a required class (in fact, it's one of the reasons why our school ranks so high on US News), so we deal with it. We get through it as quickly as possible (goal: 1 hour or less!), and then we all go on our merry library-bound way.

So I'm in a group of seven students. Having been run through the PBL gauntlet, we all know how it goes down. You get the case, you read it, you discuss it, you come up with topics, and then you run home as someone sends out the pertinent information in an email.

Today was our second meeting. And the first thing our preceptor says is, "Well, our scribe had some spelling trouble last week." We all look around, confused - and then laugh nervously as we realize that Richard had misspelled some of the diseases and disorders.

Scary PBL preceptor
So, how do you spell polyhydramnios?

Richard
Uhhhh, P-O-L-Y-H-Y-D-R-

Scary PBL preceptor
[cutting him off]
Right...there is no 'e' sound right?

Richard
Yes, ma'am.

Scary PBL preceptor
You mean, 'No, ma'am.'

Richard
[stuttering]
No, ma'am, I mean, yes ma'am...uhhhhhh.

So then we proceed on with our case, and Bill - this week's scribe - stands up to write down information on the board.

Bill
[writing out 'apperant' instead of 'apparent']
Oh, oops, I spelled that wrong.
[Uses his dress shirt to furiously rub off his spelling mistake and hopes our preceptor didn't notice.]

All
[laughter]

Scary PBL preceptor
Huh. You must have learned spelling from Richard.

All
[dead silence]

The best part though? I think she loves the power she has over us. At the end of the PBL block, each preceptor is supposed to fill out an evaluation form. I like to read my evaluations after a particularly debilitating exam, because the self-esteem boost does wonders. The preceptors always write nice things, because I think they realize that if they didn't, we'd all be dropping out of medical school and wondering if we'd ever be socially and mentally competent to go out into the real world. It's often an afterthought on their part. Most preceptors completely forget about evaluations and do them off the cuff on the last day.

My preceptor though, lines up everyone's evaluation form on the table in front of her. At every single session. And writes down comments constantly. Incessantly.

Michelle
So blah blah blah prenatal screening is important la la la.

Scary PBL preceptor
But, Michelle - what does that all mean?

Michelle
[confused]
Uh, that there was fetal distress in the third trimester?

Scary PBL preceptor
But what does it MEAN?

Michelle
[giving up]
I don't know.

Scary PBL preceptor
Hm. Uh huh.
[writes furiously on Michelle's evaluation sheet]

She does that to everyone. And you know that you're in trouble when it happens. "Melody, did you look into the historical uses of amniocentesis?" "Um, no. I was supposed to look up the pathophysiology of preeclampsia." "Hm. Uh huh."

And that 'hm, uh huh' is always accompanied by furious paper scratching.

I can't wait to see what my evaluation at the end of the unit says.