Posted by Mel
The only thing about the picture that's inaccurate is all the words, when Studoc's books are mostly filled with pictures/drawings. And no matter what book you open, it inevitably opens to drawings of men/women unmentionable parts. I make a point to never open up his books, because I'm squeamish and stuff like seeing the insides of people grosses me out. Even if they're drawings. I don't care about seeing the insides, people. I just want it all to work properly!
Getting through this week will be a relief for our family....I feel stressed about these tests, and I'm not even the one taking them. Kind of like when I played soccer back in the day.......(harp music playing while blurry cloudiness signals I'm in a reverie. And let's add a soccer ball picture, too).
The hardest part of the game by far was when we had to rotate people and I had to sit on the sidelines for a bit. The pressure was still there--the anxiousness, the excitement--but it was different.....because I wasn't in the game. I yearned to be in the field to do something about the pressure I felt. To block that kick. To steal the ball from that player. To help my team. But it was out of my control.
I have felt like this about Studoc's tests in medical school. I feel the pressure, anxiousness, and excitement (although I'm sure he feels things emotions to greater degrees than I do). But I'm not in the game. I'm on the sideline. It's difficult to be involved with the team and not in the game--I can't very well go to school with him--but I'm trying to find ways to help and support from the sideline. I'll cheer him on. Be there for the wins and losses. With juice boxes and orange slices.
Labels: What's Med School like? ·