Here's a bit of advice I got from an Orthopedic Surgeon on what are the important things to consider when trying to get into an orthopedic residency, it's valuable because it speaks to things other than just the typical "get good Step 1 scores, do lots of research etc.":
"I would tell you that scores on tests are important, but that they would a given, that I would expect excellent scores. There is no doubt that a recommendation by a friend known to me would count highly, but a rotation at the program would count the most. That has always been the case. So, if you spend a month at a program and are knowledgeable, tireless, eager, nice but not an obvious brown nose, competent at procedures, first to arrive and the last to leave, can quote articles from JBJS, you will be a shoo-in."
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Friday, April 24, 2009
First Year Haiku
Anatomy
Welcome to Med School!
Did you buy your scalpel yet?
Dead bodies are here
Welcome to Med School!
Did you buy your scalpel yet?
Dead bodies are here
Clinical Medicine
Your first real patients
Except they are just actors
They think they're great
Tests
Gauge how good you'll be
Life is multiple choices
Oh wait that's not right
Specialty Choices
Most are rational
Except the bug-eyed, creepy guy
Loves pediatrics
Email Listservs
Some department fights
Are best disseminated
To all four classes
Biochemistry
You won't need this again
Continue the illusion
Undergrad mattered
Physiology
How many times can we
Tell students about GFR
Before they go crazy
Pretending to be Interested in OB/GYN To Get Free Food (or An IUD at an OB/GYN Party)
Sorry about the dearth of posts in the past few months, second year is much more time consuming than first year, especially once you get closer to Step 1 season. (This is going to be a very "rusty" post)
A couple of days ago I received an email saying that there was going to be an OB/GYN interest group meeting and that there would be some free food involved. I was starving, so I decided to see if people interested in OB/GYN were actually human.
I walked down to the conference room where the meeting was being held, and the first thing that I noticed was that there was one of the staff members guarding the door to make sure that nobody came in, grabbed food, and left. Clearly they knew that there wasn't going to be a lot of interest in OB/GYN today.
So I put on my best "I can't wait to deliver babies for the rest of my life" face and confidently walked past the food police to sit down at the conference table, as if I didn't even come for the free food. And it must have worked because all of the other OB/GYNites seemed to accept me as one of their own.
As I began to look around at what kind of people would actually want to go into OB/GYN, I was struck by the fact that they seemed normal, on the outside at least. (I was also struck by the fact that they didn't have any food). Clearly, I was the only second year student at the meeting, but I did my best to act like a first year while deftly avoiding their conversations about the neuroanatomy test that they had coming up.
The food finally arrived (baked potatoes, chili and broccoli--not great but better than going hungry) and I took as many of the chocolate chip cookies that I could reasonably fit on my plate, which didn't seem to bother any of the other 8 obstetrics lovers, their stock was rising.
So what kind of people go to an OB/GYN meeting? One was a mother, the other women couldn't wait to be, and the two guys that were there seemed to be a little to excited to be around this many women (as evidenced by their laughing at anything that was said). Needless to say, the topic of conversation was babies--which I love, but I don't need to spend lunchtime for the rest of my life discussing every bit of infant minutia.
When the doctor finally arrived who was heading up the meeting, everyone quieted down and waited for him to begin. But before I continue, a brief quiz:
Which of the following is a group of OB/GYNs and which is a group of orthopedists?
A)
(don't let their smiles fool you, they're miserable on the inside)
B)
Back to the story, so the OB/GYN doctor talks about his life in medicine, how he came to be doing what he's currently doing etc. There really wasn't anything especially interesting or unique to his story, aside from the fact that he mentioned he worked in rural Arkansas for a few years after finishing his residency, and though I hate to admit it, he actually seemed pretty normal.
Then came the questions, someone asked, "I heard that OB/GYN is awful and getting worse" or something to that effect.
To which he responded that things weren't necessarily getting worse, but that those who had spent a lot of time in practice were noticing that OB/GYN had changed dramatically from what it was when they started as doctors; less individuals, more groups, doctors who were more concerned about lifestyle than just seeing a lot of patients.
Someone else asked a question about malpractice (OB/GYN's have to pay for malpractice insurance 18 years after they're done practicing!), and then a few questions later and it was over.
As I walked out, I was struck by the fact that those interested in OB/GYN are actually quite normal, as long as by normal you mean that they enjoy the thought of putting thousands of dollars towards paying malpractice and talking about children and women's reproductive organs 24/7.
A couple of days ago I received an email saying that there was going to be an OB/GYN interest group meeting and that there would be some free food involved. I was starving, so I decided to see if people interested in OB/GYN were actually human.
I walked down to the conference room where the meeting was being held, and the first thing that I noticed was that there was one of the staff members guarding the door to make sure that nobody came in, grabbed food, and left. Clearly they knew that there wasn't going to be a lot of interest in OB/GYN today.
So I put on my best "I can't wait to deliver babies for the rest of my life" face and confidently walked past the food police to sit down at the conference table, as if I didn't even come for the free food. And it must have worked because all of the other OB/GYNites seemed to accept me as one of their own.
As I began to look around at what kind of people would actually want to go into OB/GYN, I was struck by the fact that they seemed normal, on the outside at least. (I was also struck by the fact that they didn't have any food). Clearly, I was the only second year student at the meeting, but I did my best to act like a first year while deftly avoiding their conversations about the neuroanatomy test that they had coming up.
The food finally arrived (baked potatoes, chili and broccoli--not great but better than going hungry) and I took as many of the chocolate chip cookies that I could reasonably fit on my plate, which didn't seem to bother any of the other 8 obstetrics lovers, their stock was rising.
So what kind of people go to an OB/GYN meeting? One was a mother, the other women couldn't wait to be, and the two guys that were there seemed to be a little to excited to be around this many women (as evidenced by their laughing at anything that was said). Needless to say, the topic of conversation was babies--which I love, but I don't need to spend lunchtime for the rest of my life discussing every bit of infant minutia.
When the doctor finally arrived who was heading up the meeting, everyone quieted down and waited for him to begin. But before I continue, a brief quiz:
Which of the following is a group of OB/GYNs and which is a group of orthopedists?
A)
(don't let their smiles fool you, they're miserable on the inside)
B)
Back to the story, so the OB/GYN doctor talks about his life in medicine, how he came to be doing what he's currently doing etc. There really wasn't anything especially interesting or unique to his story, aside from the fact that he mentioned he worked in rural Arkansas for a few years after finishing his residency, and though I hate to admit it, he actually seemed pretty normal.
Then came the questions, someone asked, "I heard that OB/GYN is awful and getting worse" or something to that effect.
To which he responded that things weren't necessarily getting worse, but that those who had spent a lot of time in practice were noticing that OB/GYN had changed dramatically from what it was when they started as doctors; less individuals, more groups, doctors who were more concerned about lifestyle than just seeing a lot of patients.
Someone else asked a question about malpractice (OB/GYN's have to pay for malpractice insurance 18 years after they're done practicing!), and then a few questions later and it was over.
As I walked out, I was struck by the fact that those interested in OB/GYN are actually quite normal, as long as by normal you mean that they enjoy the thought of putting thousands of dollars towards paying malpractice and talking about children and women's reproductive organs 24/7.
Friday, November 21, 2008
How Hard is Medical School (Made to Sound as Depressing as Possible)
Medical School is extremely hard.
First, you arrive at medical school. A bright, cheery MSI.
And you are really, really excited to be here. I mean, possibly more excited that you will ever be for anything thus far in your life (unless you're already married, had a child etc.) You recognize that it is going to be hard but at the same time you think to yourself, "Well I got in, didn't I, hopefully the administration didn't make some huge mistake." Have I mentioned that you are excited. Tens of thousands of people didn't get in to medical school this year, but you did.
Then you get done with the lazy week of orientation, which you probably skipped half of anyway, and you arrive at your first class.
ANATOMY- Day One
Welcome to Medical School here at the Medical College of the United States. Blah. Blah. Study a little every day. Blah. Blah. This is going to be the most challenging thing that you have ever done. Blah Blah. This is the axilla. Blah blah.
Video begins:
"This is how to disect a human body..."
Professor: Ok class now we are going to go downstairs and begin disecting, there will be 6 people per cadaver.
You (thinking to yourself): This is great! I'm finally doing something that is interesting. No more boring stuff like General Chemistry for me!
And that first night you study better than you ever have in your life, because if you know one thing, it's that you don't want to be one of those 5 or so people that drop out (and you definitely don't want to Modify, which means that you end up taking 5 years to complete medical school instead of the usual 4.). And you keep studying every night for the next month, and on some levels it's actually fun (or at the very least tolerable).
Then the first test arrives.
And you pass! Not only that, but you do pretty well--not honors by any means, but since your main concern was just getting through, finding out that you are an "average" medical student is actually not all that bad.
So you keep studying, and studying, and studying, every night for the next few months. Not only for anatomy, but also for embryology and histology which are taken concurrently. And very gradually this sense of newness begins to wear off.
(to be continued...)
First, you arrive at medical school. A bright, cheery MSI.
And you are really, really excited to be here. I mean, possibly more excited that you will ever be for anything thus far in your life (unless you're already married, had a child etc.) You recognize that it is going to be hard but at the same time you think to yourself, "Well I got in, didn't I, hopefully the administration didn't make some huge mistake." Have I mentioned that you are excited. Tens of thousands of people didn't get in to medical school this year, but you did.
Then you get done with the lazy week of orientation, which you probably skipped half of anyway, and you arrive at your first class.
ANATOMY- Day One
Welcome to Medical School here at the Medical College of the United States. Blah. Blah. Study a little every day. Blah. Blah. This is going to be the most challenging thing that you have ever done. Blah Blah. This is the axilla. Blah blah.
Video begins:
"This is how to disect a human body..."
Professor: Ok class now we are going to go downstairs and begin disecting, there will be 6 people per cadaver.
You (thinking to yourself): This is great! I'm finally doing something that is interesting. No more boring stuff like General Chemistry for me!
And that first night you study better than you ever have in your life, because if you know one thing, it's that you don't want to be one of those 5 or so people that drop out (and you definitely don't want to Modify, which means that you end up taking 5 years to complete medical school instead of the usual 4.). And you keep studying every night for the next month, and on some levels it's actually fun (or at the very least tolerable).
Then the first test arrives.
And you pass! Not only that, but you do pretty well--not honors by any means, but since your main concern was just getting through, finding out that you are an "average" medical student is actually not all that bad.
So you keep studying, and studying, and studying, every night for the next few months. Not only for anatomy, but also for embryology and histology which are taken concurrently. And very gradually this sense of newness begins to wear off.
(to be continued...)
The Depths of Memory
Isn't it funny how a word, a place, or a stage of life can have so many associated feelings.
When we think of childhood, our mind doesn't immediately think of a top-down summary of how good or bad our childhood was, no, instead we immediately pick a single memory, a moment in time. The night when dad let us Trick-or-Treat until the wee hours of the morning, no matter how tired he was. The time that we went sledding down a 20ft high hill that seemed like Everest to us. Humans seem to have a knack for taking something that is irreducibly complex and forming a few overarching memories.
Equally surprising is that we can have a negative memory of a place where we had countless days of pleasure. But whenevere someone calls that place to mind, our first thought is that of sadness.
For me that place is Ludington.
Growing up, we would often travel up to Ludington to visit with my grandparents and other family members. A town of about 60,000 or so, Ludington is at once both beatiful and quaint. It has a turn-of-the-century downtown area, great beaches, and large swaths of natural forests.
When I was younger we would play wiffleball outside for hours on end, or go out for ice cream at the nearby dairy queen. Other times I would ride my grandpa's old 8-speed bicycle down a winding dirt path through the forest, a path the bike was definitely not made for. For me, Ludington was the place our family always went to.
Yet for some reason whenever I am reminded of Ludington, I picture it in the middle of winter; overcast and empty. But why? Why is it that a place that has been the site of so much enjoyment in my life become a place that I remember with such a sense of sadness and melancholy.
The more I thought of it, I realized that I have come to associate Ludington with death. The memories that I had of Ludington with both my parents are now tainted with the pain of divorce. The memories that I had with my granparents now are associated with the realization that they won't be around forever. Memories of riding grandpa's bike make me think of a time where I will no longer be able to talk to him whenever I want to.
But why is it that our brain puts that all into one feeling, one image. Maybe it's just easier. Maybe we don't really want to think off the hurt, so our brain puts out an imposing image to scare us off. I think it's one of the more interesting defense mechanisms that we have.
Once my grandparents leave Ludington, I don't think I'll ever go back there (alone at least). It's one of the most beautiful towns in Michigan, but for some reason I can't get passed the dark image I have of it.
When we think of childhood, our mind doesn't immediately think of a top-down summary of how good or bad our childhood was, no, instead we immediately pick a single memory, a moment in time. The night when dad let us Trick-or-Treat until the wee hours of the morning, no matter how tired he was. The time that we went sledding down a 20ft high hill that seemed like Everest to us. Humans seem to have a knack for taking something that is irreducibly complex and forming a few overarching memories.
Equally surprising is that we can have a negative memory of a place where we had countless days of pleasure. But whenevere someone calls that place to mind, our first thought is that of sadness.
For me that place is Ludington.
Growing up, we would often travel up to Ludington to visit with my grandparents and other family members. A town of about 60,000 or so, Ludington is at once both beatiful and quaint. It has a turn-of-the-century downtown area, great beaches, and large swaths of natural forests.
When I was younger we would play wiffleball outside for hours on end, or go out for ice cream at the nearby dairy queen. Other times I would ride my grandpa's old 8-speed bicycle down a winding dirt path through the forest, a path the bike was definitely not made for. For me, Ludington was the place our family always went to.
Yet for some reason whenever I am reminded of Ludington, I picture it in the middle of winter; overcast and empty. But why? Why is it that a place that has been the site of so much enjoyment in my life become a place that I remember with such a sense of sadness and melancholy.
The more I thought of it, I realized that I have come to associate Ludington with death. The memories that I had of Ludington with both my parents are now tainted with the pain of divorce. The memories that I had with my granparents now are associated with the realization that they won't be around forever. Memories of riding grandpa's bike make me think of a time where I will no longer be able to talk to him whenever I want to.
But why is it that our brain puts that all into one feeling, one image. Maybe it's just easier. Maybe we don't really want to think off the hurt, so our brain puts out an imposing image to scare us off. I think it's one of the more interesting defense mechanisms that we have.
Once my grandparents leave Ludington, I don't think I'll ever go back there (alone at least). It's one of the most beautiful towns in Michigan, but for some reason I can't get passed the dark image I have of it.
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Learning vs. Studying
Are learning and studying the same?
Most people that are in medical school have probably had a conversation that goes something like this.
Non-Medical Student: "You're in medical school! You must love school, I could never put up with four more years of it"
You (or Me): "Well I don't know, I don't really think that I love schooling all that much..."
If you are anything like me, you probably find it really hard to give someone a satisfying answer to that question. I've thought about my own motivations a lot, and this is what I've been able to come up with.
I love learning. I love finding out something new that I think is applicable to my life (or to my future life). I love when I finally understand something, when I spend time trying to wrap my mind around something and then I finally "get it."
I hate studying. I hate being told to read 200 pages of notes and commit it to memory. I hate sitting down in a lecture hall for 5 hours of lectures followed by 3 hours of lab. For me at least, there is nothing fun about that.
I'd love to learn another language, or how to play a musical instrument--or even another sport--but the medical school curiculum is so constrained that there is no time for that. So what you end up with is a bunch of people who are (on some levels) miserable for the better part of two years with one test after another hanging over their heads.
I agree that much of the information learned in medical school is very valuable, but I think that there are much more efficient (and less costly) ways of training our future doctors.
So how would I change medical school to make it better.
The biggest change I would make is to switch to a 3 year preceptorship, broken down like this:
First year: anatomy, histology, physiology (6 months) pathology, pharmacology, microbiology (6 months)
Second-Third Year: 6 months of family practice at 2 different sites, 4 months of internal medicine, 4 months of general surgery. 1 month of Emergency Medicine, OB/GYN, Psychiatry, etc.
Fourth year: 8 months of required electives, 4 months for interviewing etc.
In this system you would have to expand the "shelf" tests to account for longer periods in each rotation, but I feel like this would be a better situation for everyone.
Current doctors can feel like they are having a greater influence on future doctors. Medical students will absorb much more information when facts are associated with real life situations. Patients will have better trained doctors, and hospitals can hire a few less MAs and save some money. In my mind, it seems like medical education is stuck in the dark ages--where medical students are still being taught to memorize side effects for 100s of drugs, even though that information is now only a PDA click away.
Wouldn't that time be better served learning how to be a better doctor instead of a fact-spitter-outer. How many times have you heard from doctors that many of their colleagues in medical school who were great students have made terrible doctors--isn't that a sign that something needs fixing?
Most people that are in medical school have probably had a conversation that goes something like this.
Non-Medical Student: "You're in medical school! You must love school, I could never put up with four more years of it"
You (or Me): "Well I don't know, I don't really think that I love schooling all that much..."
If you are anything like me, you probably find it really hard to give someone a satisfying answer to that question. I've thought about my own motivations a lot, and this is what I've been able to come up with.
I love learning. I love finding out something new that I think is applicable to my life (or to my future life). I love when I finally understand something, when I spend time trying to wrap my mind around something and then I finally "get it."
I hate studying. I hate being told to read 200 pages of notes and commit it to memory. I hate sitting down in a lecture hall for 5 hours of lectures followed by 3 hours of lab. For me at least, there is nothing fun about that.
I'd love to learn another language, or how to play a musical instrument--or even another sport--but the medical school curiculum is so constrained that there is no time for that. So what you end up with is a bunch of people who are (on some levels) miserable for the better part of two years with one test after another hanging over their heads.
I agree that much of the information learned in medical school is very valuable, but I think that there are much more efficient (and less costly) ways of training our future doctors.
So how would I change medical school to make it better.
The biggest change I would make is to switch to a 3 year preceptorship, broken down like this:
First year: anatomy, histology, physiology (6 months) pathology, pharmacology, microbiology (6 months)
Second-Third Year: 6 months of family practice at 2 different sites, 4 months of internal medicine, 4 months of general surgery. 1 month of Emergency Medicine, OB/GYN, Psychiatry, etc.
Fourth year: 8 months of required electives, 4 months for interviewing etc.
In this system you would have to expand the "shelf" tests to account for longer periods in each rotation, but I feel like this would be a better situation for everyone.
Current doctors can feel like they are having a greater influence on future doctors. Medical students will absorb much more information when facts are associated with real life situations. Patients will have better trained doctors, and hospitals can hire a few less MAs and save some money. In my mind, it seems like medical education is stuck in the dark ages--where medical students are still being taught to memorize side effects for 100s of drugs, even though that information is now only a PDA click away.
Wouldn't that time be better served learning how to be a better doctor instead of a fact-spitter-outer. How many times have you heard from doctors that many of their colleagues in medical school who were great students have made terrible doctors--isn't that a sign that something needs fixing?
Time to Start Throwing the Baby Out with the Bathwater, Studies Show
It’s common knowledge that young children are nothing more than freeloading ner-do-wells, but could they also be making you sick? That’s the question researchers from the University of Alberta wanted to find out.
“We were all sitting around the lunchroom one day when out of nowhere John starts coughing,” said Todd Maste, a doctor of homeopathic medicine. “And I said to him: ‘Hey didn’t you say your kid was coughing last week?’ And he was like, ‘Yeah he was.’ All the sudden it hit him. His kid was making him sick.”
But mere anecdotal evidence was not enough for this modern day Sherlocke and Homes. They sought a degree of certainty only attainable via a double-blind, randomized study.
“We took, uh, 20 kids who were sick, uh, and within two weeks 12 of [their] parents got sick too. Clear cut kid to parent transmission of disease.”
Armed with this knowledge, Maste and his colleagues sought out the manufacturing giant Pharmista, makers of Hydroxyfatburnercooker™ and Schlonger™ to see if there were any marketing possibilities for a new over-the-counter drug. Matt Barnes a marketing executive explains:
“The information that Dr. Maste had come up with was so groundbreakingly earthshattering, that I thought ‘We’ve got to take this and run with it.’” Barnes later added, “All the way to the bank.”
“We were all sitting around the lunchroom one day when out of nowhere John starts coughing,” said Todd Maste, a doctor of homeopathic medicine. “And I said to him: ‘Hey didn’t you say your kid was coughing last week?’ And he was like, ‘Yeah he was.’ All the sudden it hit him. His kid was making him sick.”
But mere anecdotal evidence was not enough for this modern day Sherlocke and Homes. They sought a degree of certainty only attainable via a double-blind, randomized study.
“We took, uh, 20 kids who were sick, uh, and within two weeks 12 of [their] parents got sick too. Clear cut kid to parent transmission of disease.”
Armed with this knowledge, Maste and his colleagues sought out the manufacturing giant Pharmista, makers of Hydroxyfatburnercooker™ and Schlonger™ to see if there were any marketing possibilities for a new over-the-counter drug. Matt Barnes a marketing executive explains:
“The information that Dr. Maste had come up with was so groundbreakingly earthshattering, that I thought ‘We’ve got to take this and run with it.’” Barnes later added, “All the way to the bank.”
Monday, September 8, 2008
Sir, Do Helicopters Eat Their Young?
Be careful how you respond to this question if you find yourself looking up from a hospital bed--the wrong answer will get you admitted for Stage 3 alcohol withdrawl. Either that or the alcoholics just know something we don't.
Words That Draw People to This Blog
In looking at the demographic information about who actually reads my blog I found that there's been a gradual change from "people who accidentally find it because they typed in a google image search" to "people who accidentally find it because they were searching for something else."
Just for the fun of it here are the most common searches that lead people to my blog (in the past year):
How hard is medical school 20ppl 6.08%
medical hierarchy 16ppl 4.86%
Medical school is hard 13ppl 3.95%
medical school quotes 10ppl 3.04%
how hard is medical school? 6ppl 1.82%
med school quotes 4ppl 1.22%
is medical school hard 4ppl 1.22%
hierarchy of medicine 4ppl 1.22%
school of hard knocks baseball 3ppl 0.91%
hierarchy in medicine 3ppl 0.91%
I guess there are a lot of people out there concerned with how hard medical school is--maybe if those people got together with the "medical school is hard" people then they wouldn't have to search anymore.
Mostly for my own curiosity (and to record it for posterity) here is the geographic breakdown.
United States 713 67.90%
Netherlands 129 12.29%
Canada 40 3.81%
United Kingdom 38 3.62%
Australia 15 1.43%
Mexico 14 1.33%
France 8 0.76%
Italy 8 0.76%
New Zealand 7 0.67%
Spain 6 0.57%
In order to maximize the number of people to read my blog, I think I'll title my next entry: "Is Medical School Hard in the United States? Yes, Medical School is Hard in the United States." And then I'll throw the word "hierarchy" in there for good measure.
Addendum: I am now the number two hit on google if you were (for some unknown reason) to type "medical school of hard knocks." And I've got a message for someone out there, you'd better watch your back 'guy-who-once-wrote-an-article-for-TheOnion-using-the-words-medical-school-of-hard-knocks' or your going to lose your number one status.
Just for the fun of it here are the most common searches that lead people to my blog (in the past year):
How hard is medical school 20ppl 6.08%
medical hierarchy 16ppl 4.86%
Medical school is hard 13ppl 3.95%
medical school quotes 10ppl 3.04%
how hard is medical school? 6ppl 1.82%
med school quotes 4ppl 1.22%
is medical school hard 4ppl 1.22%
hierarchy of medicine 4ppl 1.22%
school of hard knocks baseball 3ppl 0.91%
hierarchy in medicine 3ppl 0.91%
I guess there are a lot of people out there concerned with how hard medical school is--maybe if those people got together with the "medical school is hard" people then they wouldn't have to search anymore.
Mostly for my own curiosity (and to record it for posterity) here is the geographic breakdown.
United States 713 67.90%
Netherlands 129 12.29%
Canada 40 3.81%
United Kingdom 38 3.62%
Australia 15 1.43%
Mexico 14 1.33%
France 8 0.76%
Italy 8 0.76%
New Zealand 7 0.67%
Spain 6 0.57%
In order to maximize the number of people to read my blog, I think I'll title my next entry: "Is Medical School Hard in the United States? Yes, Medical School is Hard in the United States." And then I'll throw the word "hierarchy" in there for good measure.
Addendum: I am now the number two hit on google if you were (for some unknown reason) to type "medical school of hard knocks." And I've got a message for someone out there, you'd better watch your back 'guy-who-once-wrote-an-article-for-TheOnion-using-the-words-medical-school-of-hard-knocks' or your going to lose your number one status.
My First Surgery
A week ago today I saw my first surgery. It was a sigmoidectomy. The patient has cancer that was occluding most of his/her sigmoid colon and as a result (s)he was unable to eat normally.
I was there was due to my working on some research involving tumor detection.
Specifically, the project that I am working on is trying to differentiate between tumor and non-tumor using a laproscopic probe and a special kind of laser (and a database of scanned regular tissue and different tumors). Put simply, the goal of the research is to be able to tell whether something is cancerous or not in a much shorter time than it takes to get results back from pathology, and the doctor doing today's surgery thought that we might be able to glean something valuable if we saw a tumor resection.
Back to the surgery, the patient also had secondary metastatic tumors in the liver, but these did not spread any further, thus making her a candidate for surgical removal of the primary tumor. (S)he previously had been undergoing chemotherapy, but from what I understood this has not been successful.
Before I entered the operating room I had the slightest bit of nervousness that I wouldn't be able to stand the sights and sounds of an operation without getting squeamish. I was afraid that (even though it was laproscopic) I wouldn't be able to handle seeing the blood or the inside of someone's abdomen, but luckily there was very little smell, and I tolerated the blood just fine. I think the key was not really taking the time to think about it, it's a bit sad but it seems like the best way to get through the first few times is to not think of the person as a human being--whether you're in the anatomy lab or watching a surgery.
The surgery went on for a few hours without anything especially exciting happing, but I was extremely excited to be there. To see someone performing a surgery made me feel like I could someday be doing it--which isn't to say that it wasn't an incredibly complex process, I just felt that it was something that I could learn.
The other thing that I was struck with was how advanced the tools are that the surgeon used, especially the staplers. I had seen/heard about cauteries before, but to see how a miniature stapler seals off both ends of the colon, and how they pull it out through a gel "hand port" to resect it--it really is a feat of engineering and antiseptic technique.
Altogether it was a very exciting 2 hours, but I definitely need more comfortable shoes if I'm going to be standing up for that long ever again.
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