Archive for the ‘The Graduate School’ Category

Last week we had a meeting with the director of clinical education about our clinical rotations for our 3rd year of school. The 3rd year of our program is quite a bit different from the first two. We don’t have classes all day, instead, we have a 16 week fall clinical and a 16 week spring clinical. One of those is full time, 5 days a week. The other is part time, where you’re in the clinic 3 days a week and in classes the other 2 days.

And here’s the thing, a year from tomorrow, on April 20, 2012, I’m finished. April 20th, 2012 is my last day in the clinic, it’s the last day as a student.

I have been in school for 23 years with only 1 semester off in that time. And I have almost exactly one year left.

I can’t describe how this feels. The end is in sight. There have been SO many times in the past two years where I didn’t think I’d finish this. There were many times when I almost quit because I thought that would be easier than failing. But I didn’t quit and I didn’t fail. I succeeded. I have a really respectable GPA and as of this moment, I actually have As in all of my classes.

This year has already been so different from last year. Last year I was in survival mode. My only focus was on passing, it wasn’t on succeeding or exceeding any expectations. It was just pure survival. I just wanted to get through each class, get to the next break. This year, I know I can survive. I know I can pass these classes. And I’ve started to realize that I can actually do well. That I’m actually going to do well in this career and I’ve long worried that that wouldn’t be the case.

This year there is a feeling of relief. I will do this, I am doing this. And in a year, I will have finished. I will have accomplished what I set out to do. I will have accomplished what I thought completely impossible.

And yes, a year is still a long time, and there is a lot that can happen, but for the first time in a long while, I’m confident that I can handle anything that tries to slow me down.

One year to go. I can do this. I am doing this.

One of the biggest secrets I’ve scarcely managed to keep on this blog is the field in which I’m studying. And no, I’m not going to tell you tonight, sorry. But I have made not attempts to hide the fact that I attend USC. I chose my program for a number of reasons- they have a HUGE staff of experienced clinicians, they have labs with technology that regularly blows my mind and the people there are just wonderful. Well, I mean most of them, there are a few I could do without.

But here’s the thing, my program is widely disliked by people outside of it.

This has come about because of a number of reasons. For starters, my program is ranked #1 in the country, and many people think that ranking is wrong (for the record, I could hardly care less about our ranking. Seriously.). Second, not everyone who leaves my program is humble and lovely, many of them throw that ranking in the faces of others, though I’d say that’s not true of the vast majority of our graduates. We also have much bigger class sizes and our tuition is astronomically high.

So when I go to clinicals that aren’t at USC facilities, I expect some USC hate. It’s sad, but true. And this time has been no exception.

One day last week I was paired up with a different clinician so I could see a different subset of kids and she asked me where I went to school. I told her USC and then I saw the look. Before I said another word she began telling me about how she had applied there and almost went to SC, but honestly, the program was not that good, not worth the money and she discovered she could go somewhere cheaper and get the education she wanted.

I just sort of stared. This woman was standing up and defending herself, defending her choice of schools, even though I hadn’t even said a word that would make a defense necessary.

Her program is one I considered, but ultimately didn’t apply to. It’s a good program, but they don’t offer the doctoral degree and that was an important to me. If the doctorate becomes mandatory for clinicians in a few years (which is possible), I don’t want to even have to think about going back into a classroom, so I chose a doctoral program. But the thing is, I don’t judge her or make assumptions about her because of where she went to school, but I have not been afforded the same freedom of judgement.

Later that same day, I sat in an inservice, an inservice that was kind of awkward. I had just finished a unit in my classes on the topic of the inservice, and truthfully, I probably could’ve been the one giving it. At one point, someone asked a question and no one knew the answer. My clinical instructor turned to me and asked me if I knew.

I meekly said that yes, we had learned about this and described the method we had been taught. I chose my words carefully because I know that I am a student, they are experienced clinicians and I didn’t want to make things awkward.

As soon as I finished speaking, the woman I’d worked with earlier that day stood and said, “well, we were taught that it’s actually (this way).” And she explained the method she had learned. And just when I thought she was done, she looked my direction and said, “well, I mean, I didn’t go to USC, so take my suggestions with an inadequate grain of salt.”

WHOA.

To say that I was taken aback is the understatement of the century. I had no desire to get involved in any of what she was trying to pull me into, so I just quietly said that I really didn’t know what the right method was, I only knew what I had been taught. And for the rest of the inservice I just sat quietly, stunned by what had taken place.

I have never understood why people need to act that way. I cannot comprehend why she needed to make a dig at me, in front of the entire department, when I had not and would not ever say anything like that to her. I don’t think I’m better than anyone, I don’t think I’m going to be a better clinician, I just like my school. If tomorrow, they rankings were reposted and we were 101, I would still hold my head high, yell “Fight On!” occasionally and continue to work my hardest. It wouldn’t change a thing for me.

Because the education is all this has ever been about for me. And I just don’t have time to deal with hate. I have way too many good things happening to waste attention on the bad ones.

Last March, I had a 3 week spring break. I know, poor me. I spent part of it in my hometown with family, but I spent most of it laying around on my couch, relaxing.

While I was on my couch, my classmates were out on their first clinical rotation, the one I was supposed to be on too, the one I had all set up at a clinic in New Orleans. The very same one that the director of my program wouldn’t let me go on. Not because of my grades, in fact, my grades were good, but because after the last needle in the spine fiasco, I was told not to push, pull or lift more than 10 pounds for 2 months and that is kind of a requirement of my clinical rotations.

So I stayed home. And yes, I probably needed the time off, and I’m not going to pretend like I didn’t enjoy the relaxation, but it came at a cost.

Since last May my transcript has had a variety of A’s, A-’s, B+’s, one B and an incomplete. Technically, I didn’t finish my first year of graduate school.

And while it’s just a technicality since I’ve been able to continue progressing through the program and have passed all my other courses, it’s a technicality that’s been grating on me for a while. I wanted to be caught up and I wasn’t sure it would ever happen. Hell, I wasn’t sure I’d pass the rest of my classes, let alone make up those two weeks I missed.

Today, when I finished the last day of this first week of this clinical rotation, I officially caught up. In a few weeks when my transcript is updated, it will no longer carry an incomplete. And though that changes absolutely nothing in my academic standing and makes absolutely no difference in my overall school performance, it makes one big change in me.

I finished. I caught up. I did it.

The headache started less than 3 weeks before I began graduate school and it has done more than just hold me back in its 18 month tenure, at times it has nearly literally paralyzed me. It has caused multiple hospital trips, it has caused multiple invasive tests, most of while have required needles in my back, followed a few days later by more needles in my spine. It prompted my neurologist to tell me that I’ll need more brain surgery. This headache has been a personal hell for me, to put it mildly. But I feel like I’ve finally won a small victory.

Headache: 18 billion, Me: 1

There is still a considerable part of me that hates that it has taken 10 extra months to complete that clinical. I don’t like to be abnormal, I don’t like special circumstances or help. I just don’t. But the rest of me, the part that has been changed forever by pain, by frustration, by hospitals, needles and MRIs? That part is really freaking proud.

There’s no holding me back now.

I woke to my alarm at 5 this morning with a resurgence of hatred for this time change. Though, to be fair, 5 in the morning would’ve sucked even without the time change so maybe this was the easiest way to thrust myself into the new time. I showered, did my hair and was out the door and on the freeway by 6:15. Four freeway changes later, I was in the parking lot of a children’s hospital for day 1 of my 3 week clinical.

I was a little early, so I waited in my car and made sure I had all my stuff, and then I walked toward the door I was told to enter. I walked down a brightly painted corridor, following most of the directions (minus a few rights that were actually lefts) to the waiting area where my clinical education coordinator arrived a few minutes later. She took me to get a badge and key and then to sign a paper saying I didn’t have a flu shot (which is not because I’m opposed to them, it’s because I’m allergic to eggs). A few minutes later I met my new clinical instructor.

I put on a good show, but the whole time I was terrified.

Part of my terror is because I do not like hospitals. I have spent many hours in them and very rarely have those hours contained experiences that were even in the same universe as anything pleasant. But another part of it is because I think this might be what I want to do with my life and on the first day of trying something you think you want to do for the rest of your life, you tend to be a little scared. Or at least I do. I can’t speak for the rest of you.

As the day continued I got a tour of the hospital (which, by the way, is the MOST confusing hospital in the universe) and got to see 3 patients, all under the age of 7. Each one was so dramatically different, had a totally unique story and struggle and was a totally different experience to help treat. I got to see 3 different sets of parents doing everything they can for their child and I got too watch tiny victories for each of them.

I wish I could recount every detail and tell you all about what I saw and learned and all about these kids that I just wanted to squeeze and take home with me, but there are many laws that make that impossible, never mind that it would probably bore you to tears. But it didn’t bore me.

It invigorated me.

I know that I’m only one day into this clinical and I have no idea of how the remaining 14 days there will go, but for the first time in months, I remember why I’m in school. I remember why I’ve spent the past month studying my ass off, why I’ve given up everything that was give up-able, I remember why I started on this graduate school journey in the first place. It’s because of those 3 kids I saw today. It’s because of the work I was able to observe and do. It was for the bright future I got to contribute to and the role I got to play in the lives of children and families going through something tragic and scary.

I needed the reminder. I needed the motivation. For the first time in what feels like a lifetime, I’m looking forward to tomorrow. And more than anything else, I really needed that.

I’m having a bit of a rough day. And while it would take about three hours to give you all the reasons why, there’s one reason I want to share. Because I need to get past it, and I can’t yet.

I was having a conversation with one of my good school friends about our exam tomorrow and how even though one of the instructors had graded her part of the last written test pretty hard, she was actually really reasonable as a practical test grader. It was something that had surprised me and we were just making light conversation. At no point did I mention my grade or say anything further, just that I felt she was really fair and I was surprised.

And as a side note, yes, I did do pretty well on that exam and for the record, I worked my ass off for my grade. I make it a point to NEVER brag about grades, I quietly celebrate or mourn them because I understand how people can be frustrated and upset when they don’t do as well as they wanted to.

So when me friend looked at me today and said, “well, whatever, you only got that good of a grade because they all know your sister” the whole world kind of melted in front of me.

And while it doesn’t really matter, that tester actually doesn’t really know my sister hardly at all. But it doesn’t really matter, because someone that I spend a lot of time with, someone that I think of as a friend, implied that I didn’t deserve the success that I have had. Implied that I’m getting my grades dishonestly and undeservedly.

And it really hurt.

I can dissect the 100 reasons why she said what she did. I know why, I know her well enough and I’d be willing to guess that 99 of those reasons are strictly about her and unrelated to me. But what I know above all else is that she is wrong and I know that she hurt me today.

I have been killing myself for the past month to manage all these exams, papers, projects, all of it. I have given up everything I physically can while still surviving. I am running on fumes and tears at this point. I’m coming down with a cold literally 5 days after finishing the second round of antibiotics for pneumonia. I want nothing more than a break (a spring break, which everyone one of my classmates gets next week, and which I do not get), but that’s not in the cards and I’ve been working really hard to deal with it.

So when a friend tells me that I got a grade not for all the time, energy and effort I put in, but because of my connection to my sister, I am hit all at once with anger, with sadness, with frustration.

I am doing the best that I can, and one of the few things I’ve been clinging to was how successful I’ve been this semester on most of my exams so far. I’ve actually, quietly, been really proud of myself. And I feel like that one little good thing was just swept away. Like all my hard work was devalued in a moment, by someone who is supposed to support me and is supposed to celebrate with me.

There’s no moral to this, there’s no upside. My friend hurt me today. She took the only thing I’ve been clinging to. And now I’m falling, out of control. And I don’t know how to find my way back to solid ground.

On Friday I saw my physical therapist at a last minute appointment because my neck flared up suddenly in a very short period of time. She asked me what had been going on that may have started the flare and I told her about exams and a few life stressors and she looked me in the eye and gave me some ugly news. She said that if I didn’t get my stress under control that my neck would continue to be a problem.

I go back and see her again tomorrow and let’s just say she is not going to be pleased.

The stress kind of snuck up on me. It’s not that I didn’t have stressors, it’s that for a while I’ve been doing a really good job of compartmentalizing. In one compartment I had the stress of being sick for over a month. In another compartment I had the stress of being told I’ll need another brain surgery. In another compartment were my midterms and in another, an upcoming project and an upcoming clinical rotation. I tried to focus on one thing at a time, but before I knew it, the background stress grew to a deafening level and I could hardly focus on any one thing because there were so many others begging for my attention.

For the past week and a half I’ve had a twitch in the muscle just below my right eye. This morning for no apparent reason (except stress), I broke out in hives all over my back. I’ve had an absolutely unrelentingly bad increase in my normal headache for the past 3 days and sleeping has been difficult to come by.

I am slowly, but surely, unraveling. And the most frustrating part is that it’s my own fault.

Yes, there are a lot of things going on and most of them are outside my realm of control. I’ve actually done a pretty decent job staying up to date on most of my classes and studying in advance instead of at the last minute, but I’ve put such a tremendous amount of pressure on myself this semester, that I don’t see how I can possibly succeed.

I made a decision two years ago to go to this program even though my sister was not just a graduate, but a stand out graduate who later came back to teach one of the courses. I knew that there would be added pressure from that, but I felt comforted because I had changed my last name prior to starting and because we really don’t look anything alike. And then the name change didn’t really work and word travelled through the program, and everyone knows I’m her sister and that’s not a bad thing, but it’s harder than it would otherwise be.

My sister is a neuro-focused person. She treats neurologically compromised patients, she’s writing a textbook on neuro treatment techniques. She is important in her field and she is really good at what she does. I’d love to spend a day just watching her treat patients because she is astoundingly good at it. That said, I do not care for neuro. I just don’t, I don’t mind some parts of it, but as someone who has experienced neurological deficits, I don’t think it’s a field I would be happy working in.

This semester is all neuro. Every class is neuro based, neuro focused and our big project involves a neuro patient. It’s a tough semester for everyone, I’m not the only one who is stressed. But somehow, I found a way to make it tougher. Because I feel like I can’t just be okay, I have to be amazing. I fee like if I don’t get As, my teachers (all of who know that I’m my sister’s sister) will think less of me, less of her. My sister’s reputation proceeds me and even though no one has asked me to, I feel like I need to live up to the standards she set. I feel like not doing as well as her makes me a failure.

I’ve created stress where it doesn’t need to be and I feel like I’m drowning in it. I’m forgetting who I am and how important it is for me to be me, for me to just give my best effort and celebrate my victories, however small. I let the expectations, my expectations, grow out of control. I set the bar too high and now I’m somehow surprised that I can’t clear it.

I don’t want to go to physical therapy tomorrow because I don’t want to have to face what I already know. I am making myself sicker, I’m making myself hurt more. I don’t want to face the fact that I am, in many ways, my biggest problem.

Because that’s one I don’t know how to fix.

I had a totally different post planned for tonight, but I got an email earlier this evening and I need to rant, because I am indescribably pissed.

I know you’re all aware that I’m sick. I’ve been coughing for over 4 weeks. It’s been a unique circle of hell for me and I know it has been obtrusive to the learning of others, and I have felt terrible about it. I’ve stayed home several days both for my own health and also so I don’t interrupt my classmates’ learning and it hasn’t made any difference except that I’m now extremely behind in all my classes. I have maintained really good hygiene through the entire experience and seriously, I haven’t gotten ANYONE sick.

And yet, when I got home today there was an email in my school inbox. To make a long story short it, my classmates would like me to stay home until I’m healthy. They believe I am getting them sick and if I won’t stay home, then antibacterial hand gel and cough drops should be my friends.

And I am really fucking angry.

For starters, I’m an adult, I’m in the health care field and if I thought I was contagious, I’d be at home. Because I’m not an idiot and because I actually care about other people besides myself. I have no desire to get anyone else sick and I have been extremely careful to avoid exactly that. At this point, even if this is pertussis, I’m not contagious because I’ve already been through the antibiotics that reduce transmission and the infectious period has already passed. Nevermind that if it is pertussis, the coughing will persist for many more weeks and it’s unreasonable to expect me to stay home that entire time.

But beyond that, how did it become anyone else’s job to tell me how to take care of myself or keep others healthy? If there was something beyond two rounds of antibiotics, steroids and a prescription cough suppressant that I could take to deal with this, I would, hell, I’d buy fucking stock in a miracle cure. I would do anything to stop coughing. And if they could stop being so concerned with themselves for a moment, perhaps they’d realize that I’m doing the very best I can.

Also, I really just wish someone had told me about the wonder of cough drops sooner, because I HAD NO IDEA. I’m sure it would’ve eliminated the 4 week long cough almost immediately. Someone should tell doctors about these, I’m sure it would save them all kinds of time. Hell, I think we can solve the healthcare crisis, let’s just give everyone cough drops and BOOM, they’ll be healthy again.

The part that makes me the most angry is the assumption that I wouldn’t care about anyone else’s health or wellbeing. I excuse myself to cough in the hallway all the time so that I don’t disrupt class and I am pretty quiet about it. I have been using antibacterial hand gel non-stop, I haven’t participated in labs where I’d have to contact anyone besides friends who know exactly what’s going on with me. I’m taking care of myself and I’m not putting them at jeopardy and yet they feel it’s appropriate to tell me whether or not I should be at school.

I’ve recently been disappointed with the conduct of some of my classmates, but this is really beyond what I expected of them, and those expectations were already pretty low.

I really wanted to reply to the email with a simple, mind your own fucking business, but instead I replied, politely but curtly, to let them know that I was not contagious and that I was doing everything I could to not disrupt class. And that furthermore, I was taking care of myself in the way that my physician recommended and that they could shove their cough drops up their asses.

I’ve worked really hard to keep everyone around me healthy, and I am sorry if I’ve disrupted class, but there are times where their input is appropriate and there are times where it isn’t. I’m doing the best that I can and if one of my classmates was sick, my only concern would be for them. I cannot imagine ever telling someone how to take care of themselves or not giving them any credit for trying to keep the rest of us healthy.

But if they want something to worry about, they can have it. I mean, someone who can’t even think to use cough drops seems exactly like the kind of person who would be prone to forgetting how to cover their mouth while coughing. Just sayin’.

So, the long and short of it is that I am sick and buried under school stuff. And therefore, no real blog post tonight. I can only bear to write so many consecutive cat posts. Heh.

But I wrote something on the Curvy Girl Guide that I am proud of and that means a lot to me. So if you haven’t seen it yet, please, take a moment, read this and share your thoughts. I’m hoping to be back with a fresh post here tomorrow if my energy level rises and my stress level drops, but if not, things should be back to normal again on Thursday.

Sheesh, someone really needs to have a talk with my school about how obtrusive classes are to my blog. This is out of control.

So my semester has been over for two days now and my grades just started coming in. To be honest, I didn’t know what to expect exactly. These finals were much tougher than last year and much tougher than any other science ones I’ve taken before this. I was especially apprehensive about looking at my neuroanatomy grade because that exam was just a mental ass kicking, but due to what all of my classmates and I have decided must have been a HUGE curve, I ended up with a B on the final and a B+ in the class. I have 4 of my 6 grades back in all and of them are decent. But just decent.

This semester was unique for me in that I wasn’t on medical leave of absence. Yes, I missed a few days here and there for the really bad headaches and for doctor’s appointments, but my attendance was pretty much normal for the first time in graduate school.

And yet, my grades aren’t better.

Roll your eyes if you want, but I sort of imagined that if I finally made it through a whole semester without a massive crisis, I would be getting, well, As. And yes, I am getting some As, but I’m also still getting multiple B+s. And for the first time in as long as I can remember, I just couldn’t commit myself fully to finals. It wasn’t a lack of desire to succeed or necessarily a lack of motivation, but I just floundered. I can’t focus the way I used to. It’s like my brain is wired differently than it was before this headache started and every time I think I’ve learned the new configuration, it changes again.

I feel like I’m up against a wall. I’m half way through with graduate school now, which is a very, very good feeling, but I feel like I’m starting to sink. I’m not succeeding the way I want to. I’m not excelling at anything. I’m not known as a smart girl, or a motivated girl, I’m the sick one. I’m the one who needs the extra time and help. Always.

I spent a lot of time last week studying structures and functions of the brain and one of the things I learned is that there’s a special area of your brain devoted to sorting out the difference between what you expect to happen and what does. And although we learned it in terms of motion not in terms of psychology or life events, I feel like that area of my brain must be getting so much use. I feel like I spend a huge chunk of my time just reeling from how differently this has all gone.

I am still passionate for this future and this career. I still look forward to finishing the next 17 months of school, but I’m quietly disappointed. I thought I would be a curve setter, instead of a curve lover. I thought I would be the most annoyingly nerdy person, but I’m not. I can barely focus long enough to do the bare minimum. This just isn’t the me I know.

I guess it’s hard to reconcile what I expected would happen in graduate school and the reality of it. I’m proud of what I’ve done, I’m proud of making it through these past 18 months, but if I’m being truly honest, I expected more from myself. I expected better.

And I guess I just need to give my brain a little more time to get used to the the reality, and to let go of the dreamy expectations.

I am dreading tomorrow more than most final exam days, and not because I have a double dose of tests, but because one of them is going to be psychologically difficult.

Tomorrow afternoon is my neuroanatomy lab practical. The test will consist of each of us performing 2 out of about 20 neuro tests on an assigned partner. And they aren’t difficult tests. I’m not worried about getting a low grade. I’m more worried about failing the tests as the patient.

As it stands, I know in advance that at least 4 of the tests will show abnormalities,and that, in and of itself, is tough to face. But then there’s the partner component. Because my partner has been paired up with me, one of the only people in our class who has a screwed up brain.

And my partner is an incredibly nice guy, but man. He got screwed.

I just keep thinking about how he must’ve felt when he saw the schedule, saw that he was assigned to me. That his test won’t be a simple administering and documenting of negative neuro tests like everyone else. But his test is instead going to be one where he has to interpret hand shaking, where he has to interpret upgoing toes on a Babinski, where he has to figure out why I can’t discern which numbers/letters he traces in my hand.

I am dreading tomorrow because for the first time in a while, I feel like a burden. I can manage my own problems, my pain, my emotions. I know how to do that, I’ve gone through the months of training. But when my problems start extending to someone else, it’s different. And I hate it.

I know it probably seems silly to be worried and upset about this, but it’s bad enough to deal with knowing that my brain is abnormal, it’s worse to see that suck spread to someone else who shouldn’t be impacted by it. Someone ho didn’t volunteer for this, who isn’t family, who didn’t enter a relationship knowing that I’m a little broken.

I’m never going to be okay with breaking others. Even if they pretend like the cracks don’t bother them. Even if they put on a happy face and act like it’s all okay.

Because I know it’s not. Because I put on that same happy face and I pretend too.