Sway

I will never be a gastroenterologist.

I love food. I have no problems announcing my bodily functions, especially when my mother calls ("Sorry Mom, can't talk now - need to poop!"). And I can take on the biggest burper you know, and still beat them in a belching contest. My non-medical friends will call me up and tell me all about the color of their stool, alarmed that they might be suffering from some terrible disease (when really it's just a case of Bad Chinese Take-out).

That said, I will never be a gastroenterologist.

This week, in our Physical Exam Skills class, we were reviewing the abdominal exam. Last year when we first did it, we practiced on healthy, relatively young, standardized patients. In other words, all of the things we were testing or looking for came up negative. We were doing all the tests, just for practice.

This year, they actually brought in patients with liver disease, enlarged spleen tips, ascites, and peripheral edema. And it was really cool to actually feel and see all these things we were supposed to look for.

We were on our feet for most of the two hours.

At our last station, I started feeling really weak. It was my turn to do the liver scratch test, and yet, all I wanted to do was sit down. In fact, all my body would allow me to do was sit down. So sit down, I did. But that didn't stop the room from spinning, as my peripheral vision started fading to black. And whoa! Did someone just turn up the heat? I felt like a furnace! Alarmed, I got up and excused myself from the room.

Pulling off my white coat, I said I needed some water (which I probably did), but honestly, I just wanted to get out of there so that my fellow classmates wouldn't see me collapse.

And that's exactly what happened the moment the door closed. Luckily, there was an instructor outside who caught me and pushed me into an exam room where I caught my breath and regained my vision.

I've been in Dance Marathon. In which I successfully stayed awake - while dancing - for a full thirty hours. On my own two feet.

I don't know what happened. But I went home, had some beef, and went to bed.

The next day, feeling much much better (it's funny how a good night's sleep can do that to you), I went to lecture and sat down next to one of my friends.

Arnold
Michelle!! I'm so happy to see you!!

Michelle
Hey you too! Uh, I'm happy to see you too?

Arnold
I mean, what happened yesterday?! You walked out of that room and never came back! And you just left your white coat crumpled up on the ground...

Michelle
Oh, hahaha. Yeah, I wasn't feeling well.

Arnold
I mean, when I saw that, I was like, Wow, Michelle saw that ascites patient and was like, that's it! Forget med school! I'm out of here! And in my head, I saw you throwing your white coat on the floor, sticking it to The Man, and just storming out.

Haha, if only it were that easy.

That said, I still don't know what caused me to black out. Maybe it was the smell, maybe it was the fact that I haven't had any meat in the past two weeks (salad diet, you know), or maybe I'm just overstressed and overtired.

But whatever it was, I know one thing. I will never be a gastroenterologist. And that suits me just fine.


P.S. It's freaking cold here in Chicago. Seriously, my face froze as I walked to class today. That is not cool dude. Not cool at all.