My lovely husband has lent me his anatomy colouring book, a souveneir from past days in art school, to help in my medical school preparation. I am not sure that I am learning anything but it makes for a good relaxation tool.

Speaking of my lovely husband I have been getting a strange reaction as a new married female medical student. I guess it has always been around but it seems to be more prevalent now that orientation is looming. It seems like the general feeling is a profound sympathy for my husband for being hitched to someone who has decided to leap back into school for another 3 years of overeducation, combined with suspicion that the act of hitching was motivated by the handy financial obligations that come along with the 'in sickness and in health'. I was told yesterday that my husband must be a very understanding man. In this case I am not sure that the 'understanding' extends to 'letting' me go to school or by letting me aspire to have a career at all. I know that I am awfully insulated but I thought people would think that my husband would be lucky to be married to a smart ambitious person that is choosing to use her talents to help people. This is definately not a universally help opinion.

I am not usually privy to these discussions but my husband has been regaled by a number of stories of opportunistic women who have dumped their husbands shortly after finishing the medical training these hapless men helped pay for. I keep telling him that he is the best husband I could have, but if I was going to marry purely for money I could probably do better. I live in one (possible the) fastest growing cities in North America; real estate here is going up hundreds of dollars a day; millionaires are being made every quarter thanks to the high oil and gas prices. Frankly I am a little insulted that these story tellers think I couldn't find a fatter wallet; if that was what I was seeking. I really think a better husband couldn't be found but I could probably enslave a better benefactor if that was my marriage goal. I am insulted that these people think my motives are so unpure and I am further insulted that they think I am not better able to fullfill these base goals.

To help in my efforts to become at least somewhat qualified to be a medical student, one of my labmates lent me his medical physiology textbook that he has as a result of his zoology undergraduate degree. I am only a couple of chapters in but I am dismayed at the lack of pictures. Not since my class on partial differential equations have I had a text with less figures. I don't remember anything from that class. I have always been what one would call a visual learner. Maybe I should get on that anatomy thing first to make myself feel better.

I was hoping to keep the frequency of this blog to every few days, twice a week at least. I have obviously not kept up to this, but I was on vacation. A good excuse if you ask me. I went on a roadtrip to the West Coast for a little more than a week, after finishing my corrections and turning in my thesis. There are still a couple of papers hanging over my head, but I am determined to get those out of the way before orientation starts the first week of August. Between that and the stuff I want to sort out here at home I will be busy for the next couple of weeks.

I am also thinking that I should start looking into doing some extra anatomy ond other studying in some of my weak areas, which is all of them. I am not really sure where to start but my artist husband does have the anatomy and physiology colouring books. Probably as good as any. Given that my understanding is at a kindergarten level a colouring book is probably appropriate. Besides, it gives me a reason to get new pencil crayons. New crayons and markers were always my favourite back-to-school supplies.

Now that I have finished my Masters (except for the corrections, which I have promised myself I will finish by the end of the week) I have gone back to seriously considering what the heck I am doing in medical school. Aside from the fear and dismay that they would actually let me into medical school when I am obviously underskilled and underprepared, what am I going to make of all of it anyway? My specialty shortlist is: neurology, psychiatry, family, emergency and pathology. A little bit of a mixed bag. I am torn between what I might be good at, what might be the most interesting and what might be the most useful to society. I know I have some time to decide but I should have a good idea soon so that I can line up good experience for matching. Maybe, like a friend of mine suggested, I am experiencing a stress withdrawal and am just substituting worrying about the future in the absence of anything substantial to stress about. I need a vacation.

On another note, I went to Wilco  last night. It was the first night of their Canadian tour and you could say 'it totally rocked!' Lots of energy, good sound, a really good feel from the band and in the crowd. Everything you could ask for in a show.

I passed! My defence was not the worst experience of my life; a report I have heard from a few other graduate students. There were a few things I would have liked to have done better, but my committee allowed them to go, so I probably should as well. I guess going over and over in my mind the questions I missed means I am a perfectionist. Now I just have to make some corrections and finish the paperwork. My mother is already asking when the graduation ceremony will be. Lucky for me I am in the combined graduate/MD program so I only have one when I am done both. I good way to put off that boredom.

I am now about 12 hours away from either having passed or failed my Masters defence. Being that it is about learning and memory, I should know better than most that going to sleep now would be my best chance at remembering any of the stuff I have been cramming for the past 12 hours. For some reason the loss of consciousness scares me right now. I have this dread that all of the acronyms will get jumbled up and mismatched. Acronyms scare me like little spiders.

And now.
I am close enough to my exam date to actually be looking past it. Something that I haven't managed to do until now. I have been putting off plans past my defence date in an attempt to not jinx the outcome. All of a sudden however, all I can think of is what I will do when I am free of this particular millstone. In best cases I will still have corrections and a couple of journal articles to contend with when I have gotten past the exam hurdle, but I keep imagining spending an entire day actually organizing my house, going to the gym, reading a novel. I think I am delerious.

Three (and a half) days left.
I am just days away from my defence. The fact that I am writing this is indication of how my studying is going. I still have to complete (and start in fact) my defence presentation and I have a stack of reading to complete yet. Panic would not be far from the truth. There were periods there that I was sure I would never get my thesis done either. Hopefully this is the same situation. Hopefully I am not nearly as far behind as I think I am. Hopefully I can pull this off so I haven't wasted the last two years of my life.
Here's to hoping!

But Friday never hesistate.
I am starting to get down to the wire for my defence. I have 6 days left. I am debating between working on a journal article that my supervisor want to submit and pushing that off to the back burner in favour of reading and studying. Theoretically knowing more would be the best call for my thesis defence but I somehow think keeping my supervisor happy is a better way to ensure passing. So it comes down to the age old question; What will ultimately get me further ahead, merit or mercy? When I put it that way it's obvious... I am off to please my supervisor.

This is what our society is based on?
My husband an I spent a couple fo hours helping his parents pack up in anticipation of their move to a smaller home. They are leaving the split level, 4 bedroom that they have been in for the past 28 years to move to a one bedroom 'cabin on the lake'. This would be a big undertaking at the best of times, but the combination of my mother-in-law being a bit of a pack-rat and my father-in-law being the eternal boy Scout (always ready for anything) this is a move like none I have been a part of. Though, this could be more of a refection of my limited moving experience than the scope of the actual event. I was first in charge of cleaning out the lower bathroom. There was no less than 5 nail clippers and 2 nail scissors, 3 night lights, 2 toilet bowl cleaners. I was thinking this outrageous. How does someone accumulate all this stuff? And I started ruminating on the evils of consumerism in our age, encouraging people to buy more than they could every really require. When I got home, however, I remembered the two toilet bowl brushes under my own toilet. I can't even remember why we would have two. The only explanation would be that my in-laws are sneaking things into our house when we are gone. Or we had one that was perfectly good and then bought another that 'goes better' with the shower curtain. Of course the cat scratched up that shower curtain. Nothing matches now.

Back at work.
I am now reading; studying for my Masters defence. My enthusiasm is waning and my resolve is next to non-existant. I find myself stacking distractions on top of each other just to avoid my text books. Right now I have the World Cup on the tv, my computer in front of me, a novel in my lap and a podcast playing. I know that medical school won't be any less work than graduate school, I am anticipating quite a bit more, but I am really looking forward to a change. I need something I can get excited about.

Weekend adventure.
Dispite my lack of grace, I must be getting old. The first indication this weekend cam because it is my mother's birthday today. An aquainatnce of mine was surprised to hear that she is only in her mid-fifties and commented that she must have had all her kids in her teens. A quick bit of math would indicate that he thought I was at least 35. I am not 35 (not that there is anything wrong with that!). But the fact that I am bothered by an overestimation is a clear indication of my advancing age. As a teenager I always thought that it was only old biddies who are unhappy with what they have accomplished with their lives that get hung up on the number attached to their chronology. I am now that old biddy.
I am not quite as embarassed by the second indication of my age. I am starting to show a heightened frustration with the lack of respect people show to other people. I am more and more amazed at the complete absence of consideration of what someones actions might have on the other people around them, to the point that I actually yelled at an absolute stranger this weekend; an act completely out of my character.

The weekend starts
Yesterday I broke my toe. Really, this isn't such a big deal but I keep hoping that I had finally outgrown awkwardness. And yet, here I am limping because I stubbed my toe on the coffee table. I continue to wait for that period where I am comfortable with myself, where I have at least a resemblance of grace.