Word of advice: find a psychiatrist NOW.
Sorry for the delay in updates, folks; I've been wading nipple-deep in clinical school and trying hard to survive. And in just these past few months of working in a hospital, one of the deep and profound truths of medicine has been revealed to me. Being constantly surrounded by people in pain and helping to alleviate their suffering has shown me, finally, a great secret of life that all those who walk this hallowed path of healing eventually learn:
That medical students - especially medical students who have been at a traditional stick-up-the-arse teach-them-theory-only university and therefore know nuts about clinical skills - really are the lowest, most base, most wretched form of life on the planet.
(no, smartass, that is NOT a grammatical error.)
But more on that later - I'm still rubbing the latest boot-shaped bruise inflicted on me by the drug nurse this morning when I made the tactically brilliant move of interrupting her during her drug rounds. (Bonus tip for budding medical students: DON'T. Especially if said drug nurse is 6 feet tall, Samoan, and stealing a couple of Valium pills off her drug cart every few minutes. --Ed.)
Anyhoo, it's around the time of year that hundreds of candidates around the world buck up for interviews, study their pants off for Cambridge admissions tests and start making prayers/offerings/virgin sacrifices to their favourite deities; yes that's right - it's Cambridge interview season! I'd just like to wish all Cambridge applicants good luck (you poor bastards. --Ed.). I've written before on interviews and stuff - this page may help. Any questions can be shot to me at angrymedic [at] gmail [dot] com and hey, if you don't make it, you can always get the t-shirt - it's way cooler anyway. Don't panic!