Study
At times, you study and you study, and you meet with your group, and you go to the white board and you study some more. And you goof off, and watch game of thrones, and study a bit more, but is it enough? No one knows. The formula isn't perfect. It's different for every student. And that's all I want. All I want is 'enough'. Is passing. To be one up from the butt of the joke "You know what you call the guy who graduated last from med school?" "Doctor".
It's a funny joke because the person last in their class isn't dumb. They didn't work less hard than anyone else. In fact, that could be the person who worked the most hard. Who had an instinct for patient care, but was was bad a chemistry. The person who put the most hours in and still fell short of the person with an aptitude for pathophysiology. In PA school, that's the person with 3 kids at home, a decades absence from full time schooling, or a 15 year career as something else. The person who will be the best damn PA the world has ever seen. And will anyone ask about their grades? Hell no. They'll be too busy being impressed by their bedside manner, their thorough care, their kind nature.
PA school is funny.
I've been meaning to write more during this time. Little interesting is happening, other than the reshaping of my brain. The reshaping of my brain into something I've never seen before. The brain that can't look at a person without diagnosing their chronic disease (and I thought scoping out veins was bad!) The brain that is concerned about their high blood pressure, and that mole, and if their home life is safe and happy. I feel myself becoming more than I was before. Not just a hardheaded paramedic. Someone softer, more empathetic, equally reliable, and confused as hell. But it has a way of working itself out, it seems. Every one is the best at faking it until they make it. Everyone looks okay. Everyone will be okay.
PA school is like a relationship. There are times when it lets you down, times when you let it down. Times when everything comes together and beautiful things happen. Like the first time you see a patient just like that one you heard about in first year. And for that split second you feel on top of the world. You feel like a genius. You feel like you an do no wrong, and there, in your white coat, sensible flats, and stethoscope, you feel like a real provider.
It's a funny joke because the person last in their class isn't dumb. They didn't work less hard than anyone else. In fact, that could be the person who worked the most hard. Who had an instinct for patient care, but was was bad a chemistry. The person who put the most hours in and still fell short of the person with an aptitude for pathophysiology. In PA school, that's the person with 3 kids at home, a decades absence from full time schooling, or a 15 year career as something else. The person who will be the best damn PA the world has ever seen. And will anyone ask about their grades? Hell no. They'll be too busy being impressed by their bedside manner, their thorough care, their kind nature.
PA school is funny.
I've been meaning to write more during this time. Little interesting is happening, other than the reshaping of my brain. The reshaping of my brain into something I've never seen before. The brain that can't look at a person without diagnosing their chronic disease (and I thought scoping out veins was bad!) The brain that is concerned about their high blood pressure, and that mole, and if their home life is safe and happy. I feel myself becoming more than I was before. Not just a hardheaded paramedic. Someone softer, more empathetic, equally reliable, and confused as hell. But it has a way of working itself out, it seems. Every one is the best at faking it until they make it. Everyone looks okay. Everyone will be okay.
PA school is like a relationship. There are times when it lets you down, times when you let it down. Times when everything comes together and beautiful things happen. Like the first time you see a patient just like that one you heard about in first year. And for that split second you feel on top of the world. You feel like a genius. You feel like you an do no wrong, and there, in your white coat, sensible flats, and stethoscope, you feel like a real provider.
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