This Bites

My summation of my first week of school: I loathe this (mostly).

I have become super cranky this week and have come to the conclusion that I’m way too old for this bullshit. I hate everybody and everything.

And I really need a nap.

In the good news department, by-and-large, I like my two teachers. They are both friendly, outgoing, and funny. My primary instructor, whom we will call Mr Chappelle, also teaches my clinical rotation. He prides himself on being an amateur stand-up comedian as well as enjoying the local karaoke scene. He loves teaching, and it shows. He engages his students and invites them into the conversation.

We have not had our first exam yet, however, so there is no telling how I will feel about either of my teachers in two weeks’ time. I remember last year being lulled into a false sense of security leading into the first exam. Loved my teachers, loved school, then I failed the exam and wanted to die because I felt like I knew nothing.

But I’m still here, so I turned it around, ultimately.

My class is much smaller (less than half) as last year, but is a LOT longer — lectures are almost FOUR hours long. I also (AGAIN) got stuck sitting totally in the back, so I am ignored most of the time. I wanted a seat up front, but had to go to the bookstore before my first class and ended up late getting in. Thus, once again, all the way back and in the corner.

In that location, if I answer a question, the people in the front get to it first. I am, essentially, ignored by EVERYONE — so my engagement in class has fallen to near zero. I open up the lecture and essentially study on my own. Sometimes I doodle. Our new teacher allows us to use our phones in class (subject to spot inspection at any time to make sure we’re not on Facebook or chat), so I sit back there and google the subject matter rather than ask questions.

Making matters worse, because I am fat, I can barely sit in the tiny student desks. This has been a minor problem in the past, only it’s worse now because lecture is so damn long and I have gained far too much weight. After about an hour, my ass falls asleep, and I start shifting around because I can’t get comfortable. Feeling like Big Hero 6, I doodled myself amongst my notes pissed off, fat, and crammed into a tiny desk:

That kinda sums up my day. I was grumpy and not in the mood to be laughing and being silly. I just felt like total crap and was bored out of my mind. Medicine is fun, but not when you’re sitting in the back and can’t talk to anyone or be part of the conversation. After a while, honestly, I stop trying. The isolation feeds my depression. A lot. I have to get over this and learn to bloom where I’m planted or it’s gonna be one very long semester.

The other problem is, I can be a complete and utter snobbity snobby snob when I want to be — especially when it’s a subject I know a lot about and I’m being ignored. Then, if I’m not being treated like Meredith Grey herself deigning to sit among the plebs, I’m never quite satisfied. (Not really, but still, sometimes I totally outsnob myself.)

To that end, while Mr Chappelle appears to have his nursing skills down to a cool science, I am having some trouble with his understanding of biology. I have caught him in a few errors so far, but I didn’t raise my hand to correct him — and I was proud of myself for that. I need to be humble because in the big picture of things, I don’t know shit (and I know it.)

Bottom line: most of what he says is correct, and he certainly has far more experience than I do. I keep telling myself that as long as he is giving me the correct information for the test, that’s all that matters at this point.

So that was my bad day. Could’ve been worse I suppose.