The highlight of my 6 hour orientation to third year? It's 11:30 AM, and I've just methodically opened 7 different packages of needles to practice using their safety mechanisms so that I learn to avoid a stick next year. I'm on number 6, the butterfly, when I pull off the cap too vigorously and jab my left index finger. The row around me begins to laugh, and I have to sit there for the next half hour bleeding all over myself. I watch as my finger pad turns blue with the blood leaking under the surface, convinced I'm developing compartment syndrome and they'll have to amputate my finger. And I have four more hours of orientation to go. Welcome to third year. It's gonna be a long one.
PS. Included in our orientation packet were a few reprints of the "Piece of My Mind" series from JAMA. Every week, a physician or medical student writes of their experience in medicine. My packet included an essay titled "Blood Lines," by Dr. Malinda Bell. Not only was the piece relevant to what had happened today, but I can honestly say it was one of the most moving editions of the series I have ever read. (If you're interested in reading the article, I'll have to send you the .pdf, since JAMA's website is subscription only.)
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