A HOT Weekend

This past weekend I was able to shadow my good friend Andrea at the Children's Hospital of Wisconsin in Milwaukee. This was a great opportunity because Andrea is a H.O.T. nurse, that is to say she works on the Hematology, Oncology, Transplant floor. In layman terms, her floor deals entirely with childhood cancers.

As I mentioned in my last post I was a bit nervous for this endeavor. I wasn't sure what to expect considering the great tribulation cancer has been for my family. But in hindsight, I'm unsure why I ever held such anxiety.

Shadowing Andrea for the whole of her 12 hour shift allowed me some great opportunities. First and foremost was my allowance to be in such a unique environment as the Wisconsin Children's Hospital. There is something so special about the atmosphere of a hospital that I can't quite describe in the extent that I'd like. In short I'll merely say that the ambiance is truly enlivening for me on a very distinct level. This floor proved no different with its cheery colored paint scheme and it's sense of busyness.

My day progressed by meeting the patients that Andrea would be caring for that day and following her through some of her daily routine. With respect to confidentiality I'll not go into detail about the kids, but I can tell you that this was the first time I'd first hand seen chemo therapy administered among a slew of other things. I washed my hands more times than I remember and best of all I put some smiles onto a few kids faces.

When I wasn't tagging along with Andrea I was either interacting with the doctors or patients on the floor. Though much of the medical jargon was lost on me, I was happy as a clam to make rounds with the docs. This time mostly entailed the two residents sharing updates on each patient to the fellow and attending doctors. With their rolling computer stations, they were quite a sight to see scribbling additional notes and nodding their heads from time to time. Later in the afternoon I was able to ask them a few questions about their path to pediatrics.

The time I was able to spend with patients was awesome. I'll tell you, nothing beats watching Disney's animated Robin Hood while playing with superhero action figures as a means to change a routine IV. Granted, as a visitor I got to spend a bit more time with the patients than I would as a doctor, but the general concept of an improved and encouraging bedside manner still remains.

This concept of patient doctor relationship etiquette is one that I have been tossing around for a while. In fact, it is for this reason that I'm incredibly appreciative for both my time volunteering in the Same Day Surgery Unit at Delnor Hospital and having the opportunity to shadow a nurse rather than a doctor this past weekend. The more I am around my desired profession, the more I'm realizing that I'll really need to know my patients to genuinely care for them. Moreover I'll need to know the other staff (Nurses, PAs, CNAs etc) on my floor to fully appreciate and encourage the jobs they each fulfill. I've seen both sides of the spectrum for doctors' sociability, and let me tell you both patients and nurses respect the doctors who genuinely spend the time to establish humility.

Perhaps more on that theory in another post. For now I can announce with great distinction that I certainly feel that I could work in Pediatric Oncology. To be able to give care in such a muddled time for a family would be a distinct honor, and perhaps may even present opportunities for some enlightened fun along the way. In any case I'm ever more excited for what the future holds, and I can't wait to invest in my patients of all shapes, sizes, and walks of life.

Traveling at the Speed of Thought

Most days my mind runs at approximately 3.2 million miles an hour. Certainly there are moments when my psyche is that of a docile house cat, but lately the full fledged cheetah has been galloping across the subsaharan trenches of my mind.

Typically there will be a series of three or four main ideas that consume me on any given day, but today I present to you the one that has been happily haunting me ever since I made the decision to return to school: doctoral specialties. I use the contradiction of "happily haunting" because I both love and fear the power and repercussions of my thoughts.

It is only natural that the question "what kind of doctor do you want to be?!" seeps into conversation about my desire to become a physician.  This question is more than fair, and I have spent many a moment thinking on it. Now before you hastily retort that there is ample time to decide these details over the course of premedical training and moreover during medical school itself, please acknowledge that I fully understand this fact. This is by no means an "end all be all" decision for my medicinal future. It's just so hard to avoid thinking about.

My gut reaction when this question arises points to the realm of pediatrics. It just seems to make sense when I add up the factors like annual participation in Hope College's Dance Marathon for the DeVos Children's Hospital, working with kids at Covenant Harbor Bible Camp and Retreat Center summer after summer, and volunteering for a multitude of child centered programs for as long as I can remember, not to mention that I currently work and live on a campus of over 600 high school students.

It'd be pleasant enough if this was as far as my mind took my quandaries. Pediatrics in and of itself is a rather distinct direction, but I can't help but delve into the realm of specialties in pediatrics. This is where the thought process breaks Mach 3 and the rest of me just hangs on for the ride. It is in these moments that the idea of pediatric oncology continues to make an appearance. This recurring thought really has had me going for some time now and I hope to unpack it a bit for you.

Without going into too much detail I'll inform you that since I've been born my family has been surrounded by cancer. I've lost several family members to varying types, and have seen firsthand how hardship and hope can coexist when it comes to such a devastating disease. Having already been such a large part of my life, it makes sense why I'd want to kick such a disease in the face, and why I feel that I'd be able to present a realistic, but hopeful perspective to each patient.

In the best possible way, this thought excites me and terrifies me at the exact same moment. The best biblical example that comes to mind is that of David and Goliath. David as we know from reading in Samuel, Kings, Chronicles, and especially the Psalms was a very emotionally complex man. As the saying goes, "he was a lover not a fighter, but don't get him wrong, he was a fighter too." Knowing this complexity it is impossible for me to think that he did not feel a rush of both fear and exhilaration at the same instant as he stood before the largest Philistine soldier in recorded history. I, like David, know that God will give me the strength and bravery to accomplish what He calls me to, but that does not mean that I can or even should be without trepidation. Without the disquiet we would not be urged into action knowing the difference between utter confidence and oblivious acceptance (a concept that I dipped into in an earlier post).

Perhaps it's this dichotomy that fuels every professional physician.

In any case, this weekend I'll have the privilege of shadowing my good friend who is a nurse at the Children's Hospital of Wisconsin up in Milwaukee. In short, I'm stoked! I'm not 100% sure what I'll see or who I'll meet, but I know that I'm excited to jump at the opportunity and hopefully tell some kids really bad jokes. I'll be sure to share my experiences, but for now it is time to let my mind wander at its usual velocity. (and speaking of velocity, Physics II starts in the morning! Huzzah!)

With Level One Vanquished, Our Protagonist Has Reached the Point of No Return

Today marked the end of my first class on track to medical school. I awoke early to do some final studying before downing some oatmeal and hitting the highway. With 10 minutes to spare I made my way into the frigid NIU lecture hall. Our final began. From 9am to just after noon I pounded away at the keys of my trusty TI 84 Plus and scribbled diagrams and formulas with my purple mechanical pencil (the likes of which I've grown irrationally attached to). As the test came to a close our professor started making rounds to the few of us who were left. When he came my way he asked me why I was still focusing so hard considering I'd already secured my "A" for the course... I casually replied, "thermodynamics has always been my nemesis."

What I really wanted to say however was something along the lines of "I want to be as prepared for the MCAT as possible, and I will feel more secure in my preparation if I answer each of the questions on this test to the best of my abilities." *Insert nerdy mannerism here (ie. the classic Steve Urkel glasses fix, etc.)

That said, I'm questioning if this class has truly prepared me in the best way possible for the MCAT. I know that my classmates struggled quite a bit in this course, but my ease has actually put me in a state of unease. I'll be taking some MCAT physics prep this weekend to test the waters, and hopefully I'll be reassured.

In any case, it has been tremendous getting back into the classroom again! It really feels like home, and that in and of itself reaffirms my doctoring pursuit. With one class down, I'm already excited for Physics 2 to start on Monday (though I will thoroughly appreciate my homework free weekend).

I'm officially that much closer to becoming a physician. I think some ice cream is in order  :)