I lied.
I mean, not completely. I do want to pursue a future in academics, because I do want to teach. Because it is gratifying and fulfilling. The lie is the "I'm a great teacher" part.
But it was unintentional! I honestly thought I'd be a good teacher. And then I started my teaching selective.
Five first year medical students. And me - the supposed "all-knowing" fourth year. And it was vital signs. How hard could it possibly be? As the last student shuffled in, his white coat crisp and the whitest it will ever be, I started. But I didn't know exactly how to.
ME
Awesome, so we're gonna be learning about vital signs today! And they're the most important thing in the entire physical exam. That's why they're vital.
THEM
[obligatory laughter]
ME
So, can you guys tell me what the five vital signs are?
Five. I pulled that number out of thin air. I didn't even count them before I said it. So as they shouted out their answers - some right (pulse!), some redundant (heart rate!), some wrong (lung exam!), I kept my fingers crossed that we would get to five.
Yet, after they mentioned temperature, pulse, respiration, and blood pressure, we couldn't come up with any more, and I was having a brain freeze and couldn't think of anything else or even if there was another thing. [Full disclosure: There is another thing, called O2 saturation, but I totally forgot all about it.] So I improvised. "Right, so there's temp, pulse, respiration, and blood pressure has two values - systolic and diastolic! And that gives us five values! Perfect."
They all ooooh-ed and muttered, right! under their breaths, marveling at how intelligent their fourth year med student was.
One crisis averted. Even if I did feel like a complete and total fraud. I was feeding them absolute bull crap. Only they had no clue.
We then moved on to listening and finding blood pressures. I gave them my spiel about how it's hard to find the first time around, so I wanted them to be completely honest with me if they weren't hearing anything.
So the first student went. And as luck would have it, he couldn't find it. He had found the brachial pulse, the stethoscope was in the bell position, and the ear pieces were in correctly. So why couldn't he hear it? We grabbed the double-headed teaching stethoscope and tried again, both of us listening simultaneously.
So we pumped up the cuff. I saw the deflection in the mercury. I knew what the blood pressure was supposed to be. But I couldn't hear a dang thing. Not one single sound, except my own heart beating furiously in my ears. I haven't had to find a blood pressure in years, thanks to nurses and the automatic machines. And now I couldn't hear anything.
So I did what anyone else would do in that position. I lied.
The cuff deflated. I pulled the stethoscope out of my ears. "Did you hear it?" I asked the student, praying to the high heavens that even if I hadn't heard it, he had. "Um, no," he replied, his ego deflating as fast as the cuff, "Man, I suck." "No no! Let's try again," I replied, not knowing what else to say, as his self-esteem plummeted.
So we pumped up the cuff again, my hand on the stethoscope.
He started letting out the air, and once it hit around 116mmHg, I started tapping on the stethoscope head, my lying hand finally still at about 70mmHg.
"Oh man! I totally heard it!" my med student crowed, tearing off his stethoscope, completely exhilarated, face beaming and red with excitement.
And in that moment, I felt a little less terrible for my deceit. Because, hey, he'll hear it sooner or later. And if not, well, that's why they have those automatic machines.
Still though, I'm a terrible teacher. Great at telling and enhancing little white lies, but a terrible teacher nevertheless.
