Step 1 and Other Bullshit

I've got Step 1 looming over me, and it's totally gnawing away at my sanity (OK, what sanity I still possessed at this point in life). I've been having tiny panic attacks every time I think about it too much. It might not seem so bad, but I've been spending too much time around gunners, who all pull this, "OMG I'VE ONLY SPENT TEN HOURS STUDYING FOR STEP TODAY AND IT'S ONLY FOUR MONTHS AWAY AND OMG I'M SOOO STUPID" bullshit. The only thing that seems to make them feel better is making everyone else around them feel worse than they do (they succeed, because who the fuck else studies that much that early?).

Anyway, the point I'm getting to is...I'm out for a while.

Hopefully I'll have some funny stories worth writing down when clerkships start.

An Old ER Doc's Favorite Story

So an older ER doc told me his favorite story not too long ago. It went something like this:

A woman is brought in by police at 5 am on a week day to be checked out for "being maced in the eyes." Apparently she was drinking earlier and had gotten combative with the cops, leading to her getting maced. The ER doc went into her room to check her out and noticed she wasn't looking too bothered by the whole "mace-to-the-face" thing.

Doc: "Ma'am, I understand you were maced, how are you feeling?"
Mrs. Demeanor: "Fine."
Doc, getting a little confused now: "You aren't feeling any pain?"
Mrs. Demeanor: "Naw, my eyes hurt when they firs' did it, but I took care of it."
Doc: "You took care of it? You were maced. How did you take care of it?"
Mrs. Demeanor: "I put beer in 'em."
Doc, really confused now: "You...put...beer in them? And that worked?"
Mrs. Demeanor, as if this is quite obvious: "Yeah."
Doc: "Can I ask you were you got beer at 4:30 in the morning?"
Mrs. Demeanor, giving him a look of disgust and putting as much condescension as possible into her voice: "From my purse."
She then reached into her purse to prove that she was packin'..cheap beer.

So there it is ladies and gentlemen. If you get maced and your eyes are on fire, just rub some beer in them. Even better than the good old "rub some dirt on it" solution...

Standardized Patients

So my medical school has us work with standardized patients sometimes. This basically allows us to sort of kind of learn to take a history and do a physical exam without actually being let loose on some poor person with real medical problems. These people get paid to spend a couple hours being poked and prodded by a bunch of 20-somethings who feel all kinds of uncomfortable with tasks such as asking obese older women to lift their breasts out of the way and feelin' up femoral pulses on crusty old guys.

Now most of these SP's have been doing this for a while and it's old hat to them. They have their chief complaint, they know their story and what answers they should give to relevant questions, and the feedback they give is usually something along the lines of: "Explained what she was doing well."; "Was very compassionate."; "Know hows to act like a human being."...or some other generic shit like that. But sometimes the feedback is off-topic or even downright crazy-pants, and of course we all like to share those fun stories. A few examples:

Mrs. Old-Fashioned: "Blouse was too low and distracted me."
The student's 'blouse' was a dress with a buttoned-up cardigan over it, but this one's still not too out there. At least it wasn't a male patient talking about how distracting it was.

Mrs. Fashion Police: "She should not have been wearing boots with heels!"
It was 15 degrees outside. Unfortunately she did not share what kind of shoes she would have considered more appropriate.

Mrs. PC: "Beard made me uncomfortable, unless it was for religious or cultural reasons."
10 to 1 odds she clutched her purse closer then he walked in the room.

This gem happened after an encounter where the patient was supposedly angry and the student was supposed to placate him.
Mr. Drug Seeker: "He did an OK job [of apologizing], but he should have offered me free drug samples."

This happened with an actual patient who gave permission to be examined by two students in a group of four.
Mr. Creepster: "Is there a girl in the group? Yeah? She can definitely examine me."
He got two burly male students.