Baby Boy
Oh my little baby, you will be my salvation. / Tiny little baby will improve on my race. / Oh my little baby, you’re my brand new creation. / You appear so different when I look at your face.
Oh my little baby, you will be my salvation. / Tiny little baby will improve on my race. / Oh my little baby, you’re my brand new creation. / You appear so different when I look at your face.
Medical school is terrifying. This is not something I feel like I am supposed to admit — or let alone feel — because it conveys insecurity. For all the learning we compress into our days as students, we operate in a constant state of not knowing. Perhaps paradoxically so, uncertainty itself seems to be guiding us down the path laid before us. It is as if we are walking with our hands stretched out in front of us, groping in darkness. Every day, we face the unfamiliar, not just in terms of knowledge, but also the larger questions of whether we are turning down roads that feel true to us.
At Albany Medical College, upon our orientation to gross anatomy, we are asked to draw our feelings on blank index cards prior to entering the cadaver laboratory. As we progress through the year, our sentiments regarding anatomy may remain the same, or may change, and these drawings allow us to look back at this milestone we crossed as budding medical students.
While studying for boards I became pretty convinced that before becoming a medical school dean, you first have to complete a course in well-intentioned but unhelpful similes.
The life of a medical student can be quite isolating at times. In many ways, the struggle to become competent and knowledgeable on the wards becomes so all-consuming that it is so easy to become one-dimensional. After long hours during the day trying to keep up with the fast-paced schedules of the hospital, we return home with more studying and brushing up to do so that we may be ready for another day of endless learning. It is one simple task — to learn as much as we can — but it is one that can seem too much at times.
At Albany Medical College, upon our orientation to gross anatomy, we are asked to draw our feelings on blank index cards prior to entering the cadaver laboratory. As we progress through the year, our sentiments regarding anatomy may remain the same, or may change, and these drawings allow us to look back at this milestone we crossed as budding medical students.
Entering medical school, we are like little seeds thirsty for knowledge. The abundance of daily information affords us new experiences and the ability to grow like a flower. With time, our petals open to reveal a shiny yellow nectar-rich core indicating our progressive growth — both mind and soul.
Life is a long and arduous journey filled with obstacles and many curved paths. Despite this daunting reality, we must approach these challenges with an open and positive mind. Every fall that we experience is an opportunity to learn and grow. Every detour will serve to expose us to novel approaches of thinking. Every interaction is a chance to learn and grow. Although the path may not be smooth, it will prepare us for the daily challenges that we shall face when we reach our ultimate destination — becoming a great physician.
At Albany Medical College, upon our orientation to gross anatomy, we are asked to draw our feelings on blank index cards prior to entering the cadaver laboratory. As we progress through the year, our sentiments regarding anatomy may remain the same, or may change, and these drawings allow us to look back at this milestone we crossed as budding medical students.
I tilted the overhead lamp and reached for a fresh blade. My gown was stained from hours of work on the woman’s arm; I continued to scrape, dab and blot. This, however, was not surgery. I was finishing my final project for a college figure painting class.
When I started neuroanatomy, I was fascinated by the brain. However, I found it difficult to keep track of the where structures were spatially when there were so many different ways to dissect it. To help myself study, I drew a coronal section alongside an intact hemisphere so I could better appreciate the structures in relationship to one another. When I spend any amount of time creating a piece of artwork, I retain it much more quickly, as if my hands are translating it into my memory.
At Albany Medical College, upon our orientation to gross anatomy, we are asked to draw our feelings on blank index cards prior to entering the cadaver laboratory. As we progress through the year, our sentiments regarding anatomy may remain the same, or may change, and these drawings allow us to look back at this milestone we crossed as budding medical students.