Phat Tuesday

Wow. Everything is falling into place all at once.

First, I won't make it back into the third year curriculum on time to start my surgery clerkship on July 5th. However, thanks to our MD/PhD Faculty Advisor, Mud/Phuds now have an option to move a fourth-year elective into our third year schedule, and count it as research credit. That way, I have plenty of time to finish writing and defend my dissertation. As a result, I had to move the surgery clerkship to somewhere else during third year, and schedule one of the shorter clerkships for August. But for that rescheduling to happen, I had to petition the Promotions Committee to allow me late re-entry into the third year curriculum. This petition took a long time:

• Monday, June 20: I write a letter to the Promotions Committee Chairperson.
• Tuesday, June 21: A reply from the assistant states that I need to be more specific about my request, i.e., "Why do you need those 6 weeks off?" My second letter is more specific, giving the date of my most recent committee meeting, when my committee officially gave me permission to write my thesis. (This was flawed wording, as you'll see soon).
• Thursday, June 23: The Promotions Committee does NOT approve my petition, saying that, with less than two months before the start of Block 2, they don't have the confidence that I can finish on time if I had just started writing my thesis. (What I should have stated in my letter was that I had been writing my thesis for almost two months already). Barb writes a note to the Promotions Committee Chairperson stating that my thesis is nearly finished, and I will have successfully defended well before Block 2.
• Friday, June 24: no reply
• Saturday, June 25: no reply
• Sunday, June 26: no reply
• Monday, June 27: no reply. I write another letter. Here's the first draft:

Dear Dr. C___,

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE LET ME OUT OF THIS PLACE. I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE. IT'S TORTURE, I TELL YOU! TORTURE!!!!!!!!

Sincerely,
Mikey

Wary that this first draft may sound a bit desperate, I have a friend edit the letter. As you may know, Kinjo is a fine writer, and transformed my words into something a little more professional-sounding:

Drs. C___ and O______,

I apologize if I'm being too forward, but I write to inquire about the status of my petition for reentering the 3rd year curriculum in Block 2. Any information that you could provide regarding when I might expect a decision on my petition would be much appreciated. I've written my letter explaining my intent, and my advisor, Dr. Barbara N________, wrote an email confirming my progress on June 22, 2005, as well. We are both very confident that I will be able to finish in time, and anticipate that my defense date will be in late July (pending scheduling with my committee and the Department of Graduate Medical Sciences.) To demonstrate good faith, I've also attached the latest draft of my thesis to confirm that I have not misled anyone regarding my progress. This part of the thesis has been read by both my first and second readers, and I will shortly be submitting the final Discussion section for review. (Please excuse its crude format; I will format the document to conform to the graduate school guidelines upon completing the dissertation.)

Please let me if there is anything else I can provide to help you with your decision regarding my petition.

Please also be advised, as far as scheduling is concerned, because I was initially scheduled for surgery clerkship in Block A, I needed to rearrange my schedule to accommodate reentering in August. I let C________, the surgery clerkship coordinator, know of the anticipated change, and she in turn has already removed my name from the Block A surgery clerkship. In essence, the ship has sailed. My understanding is that if I do not start Block 2, I will have to wait until July 2006 to begin the third year curriculum. I cannot stress to you how much I do not want that to happen. After spending over 5 years in graduate school, I am very reticent to delay my progress any further. I am sure that you can sympathize.

Thank you for your time and attention to my concern. I look forward to hearing from you soon.

Regards,

Michael

Not bad, not bad. I regret not having Kinjo also write my dissertation. Ah, well.

• Tuesday, June 28: An email from the Promotions Committee Chairperson:

Hi Michael,

You should get an email today from Susan N_____ approving your petition. The formal letter will follow. Take care.

Awesomeness. I ran around campus quite a bit today gathering the appropriate signatures, because I needed all of the following forms signed:

• A form dropping Surgery from Block A.
• A form adding Surgery to Block D.
• A form dropping Psychiatry from Block 7.
• A form adding Psychiatry to Block 2.
• A form dropping Obstetrics & Gynecology from Block 8.
• No, I'll not be explaining the Block system in this post.

To summarize, my third year schedule is shaping up, I'll be defending near the end of July, and I'll have about two weeks to rest before beginning the Psychiatry clerkship on August 15.

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I also picked up the course materials for Third Year Orientation, which BEGINS TOMORROW!!! (Cue "What a Feeling" from Flashdance, performed by Irene Cara). I'm a bit nervous, for a number of reasons:

First, my sleep schedule is off again, as I'm going to bed around 4AM. Orientation starts at 8:30AM. Just in case, my friend John is going to call and make sure I'm up and about.

Second, orientation is where we start to learn an advanced set of skills: Advanced Cardiac Life Support (ACLS). I took a refresher course in Basic Life Support (BLS) a year ago, so I do know basic CPR, but ACLS already looks quite daunting. I remember precious little pharmacology from MED YEAR 2, and ACLS definitely requires us to know everything that needs to be done when someone's life is hanging in the balance.
We are also scheduled for a couple sessions on phlebotomy. As far as I can tell, physicians fall into one of three levels of blood-drawing aptitude.

1. Expert. The needle stick feels like a pinch, and the duration of the blood draw is painless.
2. Average. The needle stick hurts, and the blood donor is reminded of the presence of the needle in his or her vasculature with every blood-spouting pulse.
3. Inept. The physician can't find the vein on the first try, requires multiple sticks, and in general, should be forbidden to handle a hypodermic needle.

My father, my boss at NCI, and most nurses I've met fall into the Expert category. I'll be satisfied, but not happy, if I end up an Average blood-drawer. I really hope I can become good at it, just like my Dad. Oh, great. Pressure to live up to my father.

Finally, I'm joining a medical school class in which I know virtually no one. I'm a stranger. And with that, I will carry the gamut of social anxieties with me into orientation this week. (Cue "Creep" from Radiohead's Pablo Honey.) This is complicated by the fact that it is entirely possible that my new classmates will be brandishing bruises of deep purple hues due to my attempts at blood-drawing.

Still, I have to say that I'm feeling very hopeful at this point, and that's great - because I haven't felt that in quite a while.