As a medical student you get used to a feeling of power very quickly. Striding down the hospital hallways, stethoscope draped prominently across your shoulders and an important look on your face, patients and staff make way for you, reverent looks on their faces. There is an implicit trust across the consultation room table, even though the only lives you're going to save anytime soon are those of your greedy intestinal bacteria as you choose which sandwich you're going to have for lunch.
It is with full awareness of this trust that I bring to you these vignettes from med school. I've only been on the wards one week, but have managed to piss off two consultants, three janitors and one VERY large clinical teaching co-ordinator who may or may not have been the local wrestling champion in her original village in Africa. Stay tuned for more faith-reinforcing tales like this:
On Tuesday afternoon, three supposedly world-class medical students in a supposedly world-class university stand in the hallway of a supposedly world-class hospital. Their brows are furrowed in intense concentration, as if lives hung in the balance of their deliberations. Thick textbooks are clutched in their hands. The conversation goes something like this:
"Hey dudes. You watch House, right?"
"Um yeah. Why?"
"Cause here comes Asian Cuddy. Act natural."
"Dude, why're you using that textbook to cover your--"
Three supposedly world-class medical students, between them holding degrees in Cardiology, Surgery & Anaesthesia and Experimental Psychology, whistle nonchalantly as the Clinical Teaching Co-ordinator walks by, smiling sweetly as she chats on the phone.
"Dude that did NOT look like Cuddy."
"It so totally DID! Did you see the cleavage on that one?"
"Meh...I see the resemblance. But-- ooh she dropped a pen. She's bending over!"
Silence for a moment.
"NOW she looks like Dr Cuddy."
"Hey, didn't surgical rounds start like ten minutes ago?"