After a whole unit of being blissfully untainted and unaware, today it hit me like a ton of bricks. The poo finally hit the fan. The floor fell out from under me. You get the picture.
By it, I mean stress.
I was sitting there in class listening to my two professors talk and talk and talk about pharmacokinetics and drug dosing and clearance and steady state and infusion loads and half-lives and renal insufficiency and drug dosing in those situations and so on and so forth, and I realized, I was just sitting there. Not taking notes. Not understanding. Just sitting there, letting it all wash over me.
I was in shock. Because I couldn't believe that they were speaking English. For all that I was comprehending, they could have been speaking a different language. It was like being in third period French all over again. But worse, because there was math and calculus derivations thrown in too, and I couldn't fake my way out of this with some poor man's Franglais.
Needless to say, I'm a little stressed.
I actually came home and wanted to cry. Because the task ahead just seems so daunting.
But I'm hopped up on three Sunkists. And it's not even midnight yet. So I have faith that I'll figure it out and somehow start understanding all these equations before morning breaks.
No sleep for the weary. Or the worried, apparently.
3 years ago
