Reverting to know-it-all-ism

When I was in primary school, I had the unfortunate experience of being unbelievably unpopular as a direct result of my parents failing to educate me in one incredibly important matter (which as an indicator of my own short comings I did not figure out for myself for a number of years): specifically, nobody likes, or more accurately, everybody hates a know-it-all.

Unfortunately for me, every now and then I accidentally revert to know-it-all-ism, although usually it is only for a couple of seconds before I realise what I’m doing, blush, and stop myself.

Now I am not the worlds greatest academic. Never have been and never will be. But I compensate by being, well I’d like to say better than average at the practical side of things. I don’t know (or for that matter give even the faintest hint of a flying f**k) who the third son of the nineteenth century surgeon after whom Mikulicz’s syndrome is named was married to, but I do know the initial treatment of a heart attack, I can take an arterial blood gas, and I can give a ring block and suture a basic wound. As such when we got to talking about basic life support stuff the other day in a tutorial I inadvertently reverted to know-it-all-ism simply because all the “brainy” med students who seemed to have crowded out the room didn’t seem to have the first faintest clue about it, and as the tutorial wound on and moved into the realm of trauma management it just got worse, as I came to realise that on that topic not only did the students not have a clue, the tutor was equally ill prepared and was basically telling us absolute shit (he was an anaesthetics reg after all, and trauma management is not in any way a facet of his usual job), and while that may sound a little arrogant coming from a mere med student, I was in the possibly unusual position of not only knowing the material thanks to an interest in the area and with 2 specific courses training me in that very area under my belt, I could also go home to my fiance, who does surgical trauma assessment and management as a job, and confirm that I was indeed right (which I was).

I doubt I made any friends in the process, but the tutor was a prat, and if I managed to lodge the correct information which may help save a human life in my fellow med students’ heads it will have been worth the effort. It’s just a pity that the other member of my group who is likeminded on these matters was away for that tutorial, because together I’m pretty sure we would have had a great time together telling everyone they were wrong.

Recaffeination

Since starting the ACS rotation, which is the rotation in which we get our exposure to anaesthetics, intensive care, and emergency medicine (the traditionally “high stress” specialties) I have found myself drinking what is for me a huge volume of coffee.
Normally I just drink coffee socially, but this rotation (far more so than during previous rotations) we seem to stop for a cup of coffee (of the really really average instant variety) every time we don’t have anything specific to do. I even got slightly jittery one afternoon. Basically, med school is recaffeinating me.

Still doing the right thing…

Three year on from the whole boat people thing, NZ today granted full citizenship to 76 of the refugees from the Tampa, while australia still has people locked up in detention.

“We came to the conclusion that people couldn’t sit on the deck of a boat in the Indian Ocean forever,” Ms Clark said of her decision to take the refugees in 2001.

“Something that began as a tragedy has ended up with us accepting many new Kiwis that are going to contribute all their talents and their energy and their culture and their ideas to our country.”

I wonder why australia’s politicians are still so reticent to also accept some new aussies, and benefit from their diversity and vitality?

Questionable signage

On the way home from the hospital we go past an adult store called Naughty but Nice (which, as an aside, is a quite startlingly bright yellow), and yesterday I noticed that there is some rather appropriately inappropriate signage on the front of the store. In big red letter on what looks like it should be the front door, is written “Entry at rear”.
I got a photo of it so you can see for yourselves.
For any kids reading this, if you don’t get the joke, that’s probably for the best, and your parents will explain it to you when you are older (or maybe not)…