Bobby's Anatomy: Disorientation Week

This whole process is starting to become real, as we had orientation this week. It turns out my class is made up of 200 people (about 50 more than I expected), although a lot of them are in something called the Maine Program. Maine, which is allegedly a state, has a shortage of doctors and no medical school of its own, so they (the Mainish people) work with schools in other states. So Maine Program students attend medical school the first two years (which are classroom-learning based years anyway), and then leave to do their third-year clinical rotations in Maine. I don’t intend on consciously befriending Maine Track program people, because I have abandonment issues.

Struggling to turn my perpetual scowl into a warm smile, I prepared to mingle as they broke up our class into one of four groups: Curie, Galen, Harvey, and Maimonides. I know who Curie is, because she became radioactive and that’s badass. But I have no idea who the others are. Why didn’t they use group names I’d know? Where’s the Brangelina group?

Due to my crippling social deficiencies, I had a hard time meeting people in this setting. Off-the-cuff first-time conversations with me tend to go one of three ways.

1. “Hi, I’m Bobby! Nice to meet you! … What are your thoughts on abortion?”

2. “Hi, I’m Bobby! Nice to meet you! … So, one true God—yay or nay?”

3. “Hi, I’m Bobby! Nice to meet you! … Your nametag says Jessica. You have a very nice complexion, Jessica. If I could, I’d love to take your skin and wear it as a Jessica suit. … Where are you going?”

Despite these lasting impressions, I managed to meet a few people who are all great. Hopefully I get to meet more in the smaller class settings, where I can impress others with my ventriloquism with the cadaver, or my ability to offer prognoses with a Magic 8 ball.

Most of the orientation consisted of lectures that introduced us to the different departments and resource of the school. They also had a diversity panel. We heard about one patient who said something offensive about a medical student’s race, but the same patient also claimed that the Republicans broke into her house. So either she was troubled, or like, ahead of her time.

In a setting where patients are offensive to staff, we learned that doctors can “fire” patients from their practice. I’m thinking I might do that on the first day, just to make an example of a patient and keep the others in line. “Anyone else wanna get smart? I’m lookin’ at you, shingles…”

We also had a meeting to learn how to manage stress. We did some breathing exercises in the dark with soothing music, during which I felt jittery, so it’s good to know that universal stress relief techniques stress me out. She also told us that we should reduce negative thoughts. To which I say, “SHUT UP STRESS LADY.”

During one of the sessions, they showed us some of the tools that doctors use that we should buy, including a stethoscope, an otoscope, and power. Luckily, I wanted to save some money in med school, so I already brought a kit I had at home:

I might need to get a new blood pressure cuff though, since the meter of the one I have apparently has the hands of a clock.

As part of orientation, we had to be certified in Basic Life Support. This includes rescue breathing, chest compressions, and choking relief. So if you’re going to need rescue around me, please have the courtesy to make it one of those three things so that I can help. Note that if I can’t help you, I won’t find someone else who can, because in addition to having abandonment issues, I have a Superman complex.

As one of the final things for orientation, we had a field day. We were divided into teams, and each team had a theme. Our theme was having the women be doctors, and the men be nurses. Which seemed a little odd, because all of the women in the group will become doctors, and there are plenty of male nurses. But because my reputation follows me everywhere, it was decided that I was a Naughty Nurse. See?

One of the games we played was a water balloon toss. It’s where you and a partner toss a water balloon to each other, and after each successful toss, you take a step back. Sadly my partner would’ve been better off pairing with Edward Scissorhands.

Then we had naughty Pictionary, which I was HORRIBLE at. My guesses were like “Kids who play loud music after 9pm” and “The people of the Czech Republic.” But to be fair, that drawing of herpes totally looked like this exchange student I once knew.

We didn’t get to play all of the games though, since here just because the sun is beating down on you, it doesn’t mean that you can’t have some torrential rain. The adjustment continues.

Other than orientation, I’ve been spending my time exploring the area, getting settled, and scavenging for food. Which is why the blog has suffered already, and I apologize.

Working on my fear, I went to another International Market, which again meant Russian. And this time, everything looked really good! Except I couldn’t tell what a single thing was. And I’m on a budget now, and can’t risk spending money on unknown food for the sake of adventure. Besides, what if I accidentally get Refried Proletariat?

All of my exploration is still part of a larger quest to adjust to the humidity. In doing so, I’ve discovered the beauty of undershirts. Not that I didn’t feel like the belle of Boston, with my sweat stains in locations that were news to me, it’s just that this is a time for new experiences. I’ve never been drawn to them before, since I’m not Italian and I don’t abuse my (non-existent) significant other, but I had them so I thought I’d try them.

They work like magic! They wick the sweat away and keep me cool, without the unsightly stains. People come up to me now and say “Bobby are you slightly less repulsive? What’s your secret?” And I respond coyly with “Ooh, I’ll never tell!”

Anxious to get more of these wonders, I went to my local A. J. Wright. It’s kind of like T. J. Maxx, but with different initials. I DID find them, and they WERE inexpensive, but the packages had a sticker on them marked “IRREGULAR.” Some of them even had the word printed on the package by the manufacturer. Although this sounds like a perfect description of something suited for my frame, I was too afraid of getting an undershirt with only one sleeve, or with one really long sleeve, or really any condition that would give me asymmetrical sweat stains. Because if there’s one thing that’s more unattractive than sweat stains, it’s haphazard sweat stains.

The second biggest adjustment, after humidity, has been the traffic. As a pedestrian from a small town, it’s hard to know when it’s safe to cross a street, because the walking signals don’t always work, and people don’t really use them here anyway. I know that I just need to walk parallel with traffic, but I’m still self-conscious. A lot of the time, I just wait for a group of people to cross the street first, and go with them. Even if they’re wrong, I’ll have a barrier of Bostonians to cushion the blow. The worst was the other day, when, no joke, I realized I took my cue to cross from a blind man. To review, I trusted my own sense of sight less than that of a blind man.

Speaking of blind men, I saw another one outside of the subway station, singing for money. Which is fine, except he was singing “I Only Have Eyes for You.” Impressed by his irony, I gave him some change. (Actually, I gave him buttons, but he won’t know… Kidding! I gave him nothing.)

Among other Bostonian quirks, outside of a bar, there was a homeless man with a sign “Help me Get Drunk” with a can to collect change. However, I decided to just give him a flask of whiskey, because you know how the homeless are—you give them money for booze, and they end up spending it on food.

Thankfully, I FINALLY got my financial aid check! I’m not the type who would think the world’s problems can be solved by money, but… they can, and are. So if you have problems, GET MONEY AND THEY WILL FADE AWAY.

I’ve been advised to budget my money, which I think means impulsively spend it on things that give me ephemeral happiness. Strange how I know what ephemeral means, but not budget. Don’t worry, I’m only buying the essentials at this point, like a bed, a futon, and a pet hyena. In my defense, hyenas can digest just about anything, even bones, so with the time I’ll save by not having to take out the trash, it’ll practically pay for itself!

While I wait for my hyena bid on eBay, I bought my mattress and futon yesterday. This is a big achievement, because I tend to be a bit naïve when it comes to making major purchases. Especially when salespeople can be manipulative. I figured it’d be a success if I didn’t come home with magic beans.

The people at the Boston Bed Company were actually really friendly and didn’t put pressure on me for anything. So if you happen to be in Boston, and you happen to need a bed, I highly recommend them. But unfortunately, since the mattress delivery industry observes the Sabbath, I couldn’t get my stuff today, and I have to wait until next Saturday (since I have class everyday this week) to have my bed. But that’s okay, it gives me time to see if I can find the proper sheets for it.