Let's face it - this path comes with a ton of information. I try really hard not to cram and then forget everything the day after the exam (or as a pharm professor put it: "purge and regurge"). I try to focus more on concepts and what's going to be useful for the NAVLE and for clinical rotations. But sometimes, you do what you have to.
This has led me to some interesting study habits. Oh, there's the usual stuff like flashcards, endless rewriting and rereading of notes and drawing diagrams. Study groups quickly got crossed off the list when I realized that my friends and I never seemed to get a ton of actual studying done. We get distracted by each other too easily and we end up spending most of the time joking and demonstrating physiological principles with candy from the Bulk Barn (yes, that did happen, I think a strawberry gummy became a heart, right up until someone ate it).
Then there's the more creative methods. In pharm tutorials, the prof had us play charades with pharmacokinetics terminology. My group is sure to get an Academy Award for our moving depiction of "ion trapping".
Then there's the time-honoured method of "Explaining things to your cat/dog/horse/cow/fish/rat/bird/etc". See, the rest of the population doesn't understand and, more importantly, probably really doesn't want to hear about the virulence factors of Corynebacterium pseudotuberculosis. Or the difference and the pathological significance of a firm lung versus a hard lung. But your pets? Well, they'll generally hang around as long as you're either petting them or feeding them and they don't talk back (unless you've got a bird or a Siamese cat) so they can't complain and tell you to shut up.If they do actually ever tell you to shut up, that's probably a sign you need to put down the book and go to bed.
Finally, there's methods you develop on the fly. A notable example: a not insignificant percentage of my class (yours truly included) spent some time on Sunday with a flashlight making shadow puppets. Why? Trying to understand magnification, subject film distance and focal film distance for our diagnostic imaging midterm on Monday. I used a shadow snake for mine.
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Thursday, September 20, 2012
They ate what?!
I'm sharing this here because I'm using it to study for Diagnostic Imaging. Really. What, you don't believe me? It's not like I'm just giggling over the descriptions.
They Ate What? Pet X-Ray Contest 2012 Winners
I do love radiographs. Even when they don't have bizarre foreign bodies in them. We covered ultrasound, MRI, CT and nuclear scintigraphy on Monday in Diagnostic Imaging. I love this stuff. I get right giggly over it. I know I won't get to use it much in my career, unless I end up in a specialty practice, so I'm enjoying it while I can. But I will get to use radiographs and ultrasound, and even those are awesome. We take them for granted every day, but really stop and think about what they are. They are pictures of what is inside you.
Let me state that again, because I don't think it can be overstated: THEY ARE PICTURES OF THINGS INSIDE YOU. THINGS YOU CAN'T SEE. THEY LET YOU LOOK AT YOUR OWN ORGANS AND BONES.
Yes, I meant for that to be in caps. It's just that freaking cool.
We had a Pharmacology quiz today, in preparation for the midterm next week. I love Pharm. If you've ever watched a drug ad on television and heard them rattle off lists of side effects, seemingly completely unrelated to the drug itself, well, pharmacology explains that stuff. I aced the quiz, so I'm feeling pretty good about the test. To think - Pharmacology was the course I was most worried about coming into this year, and now it's easily my favourite. What a difference an awesome professor can make!
They Ate What? Pet X-Ray Contest 2012 Winners
I do love radiographs. Even when they don't have bizarre foreign bodies in them. We covered ultrasound, MRI, CT and nuclear scintigraphy on Monday in Diagnostic Imaging. I love this stuff. I get right giggly over it. I know I won't get to use it much in my career, unless I end up in a specialty practice, so I'm enjoying it while I can. But I will get to use radiographs and ultrasound, and even those are awesome. We take them for granted every day, but really stop and think about what they are. They are pictures of what is inside you.
Let me state that again, because I don't think it can be overstated: THEY ARE PICTURES OF THINGS INSIDE YOU. THINGS YOU CAN'T SEE. THEY LET YOU LOOK AT YOUR OWN ORGANS AND BONES.
Yes, I meant for that to be in caps. It's just that freaking cool.
We had a Pharmacology quiz today, in preparation for the midterm next week. I love Pharm. If you've ever watched a drug ad on television and heard them rattle off lists of side effects, seemingly completely unrelated to the drug itself, well, pharmacology explains that stuff. I aced the quiz, so I'm feeling pretty good about the test. To think - Pharmacology was the course I was most worried about coming into this year, and now it's easily my favourite. What a difference an awesome professor can make!
Friday, September 14, 2012
Lurking outside the door
Vet students are scientists by nature. We have an innate and deeply ingrained curiousity about the world around us. Some people say we're nosy. They're right.
After our physical exam lab today, a few classmates and I were in the hallway getting ready to go home. To follow the ensuing conversation, there's two pieces of information you need. 1) Dr D is the wildlife specialist at AVC and 2) GDV (gastric dilatation and volvulus) is usually a dog thing. The poster child for is the Great Dane. Oh, and Lecture C is usually the first year lecture theatre. The following conversation took place around 3:15 pm, and in a stage whisper.
J: *happens to look into Lecture C* What's Dr D doing lecturing on GDV?
Me: *peeks in* GDV? Really? Dr D is wildlife, isn't she? Like I'm not crazy, right?
J: No, you're not crazy. The slide is talking about GDV.
Me: In what species??
J: I don't know. Hurry up, change the slide! We didn't get a lecture on GDV from Dr D. I'm jealous!
Me: *checks the schedule* It's the third years, it's an exotics lecture.
T: Why are you peeking through the window?
Me: Dr D is talking about GDV, and we can't figure out why.
J: Oh she changed it!
Me: I can't see, there's a post in my way. Does it say what the animal was?
J: No... But there's a crazy bunny on it.
Me:...What?
J: A crazy bunny. Like a cartoon bunny.
Me: Do bunnies get GDV??
T: Crazy bunny! Oh, there's an xray!
J: What species is that?? Does it look like a bunny?
Me: It's kind of hunched over, it looks like a bunny. I think I see an ear tip.
J: Is that its stomach!?
By now, the class is wrapping up and the third years are coming out and wondering what we're doing lurking outside their classroom. And yes, it was a rabbit with GDV. Awesome.
After our physical exam lab today, a few classmates and I were in the hallway getting ready to go home. To follow the ensuing conversation, there's two pieces of information you need. 1) Dr D is the wildlife specialist at AVC and 2) GDV (gastric dilatation and volvulus) is usually a dog thing. The poster child for is the Great Dane. Oh, and Lecture C is usually the first year lecture theatre. The following conversation took place around 3:15 pm, and in a stage whisper.
J: *happens to look into Lecture C* What's Dr D doing lecturing on GDV?
Me: *peeks in* GDV? Really? Dr D is wildlife, isn't she? Like I'm not crazy, right?
J: No, you're not crazy. The slide is talking about GDV.
Me: In what species??
J: I don't know. Hurry up, change the slide! We didn't get a lecture on GDV from Dr D. I'm jealous!
Me: *checks the schedule* It's the third years, it's an exotics lecture.
T: Why are you peeking through the window?
Me: Dr D is talking about GDV, and we can't figure out why.
J: Oh she changed it!
Me: I can't see, there's a post in my way. Does it say what the animal was?
J: No... But there's a crazy bunny on it.
Me:...What?
J: A crazy bunny. Like a cartoon bunny.
Me: Do bunnies get GDV??
T: Crazy bunny! Oh, there's an xray!
J: What species is that?? Does it look like a bunny?
Me: It's kind of hunched over, it looks like a bunny. I think I see an ear tip.
J: Is that its stomach!?
By now, the class is wrapping up and the third years are coming out and wondering what we're doing lurking outside their classroom. And yes, it was a rabbit with GDV. Awesome.
Monday, September 10, 2012
Free to good home
My animals will probably soon be looking to give me away sometime in the future. They'd like you to know that I'm house-trained, quiet and I don't shed, but I do having some food guarding issues. Two Domestic Shorthair cats, one Quarter Horse mare and one geriatric Valley Bulldog will probably pay someone to get rid of me! Why? Because, as I've said before, we're learning physical exams this semester.
As the pet of a vet student, you receive the best of care. Top of the line foods (since we get it discounted), fantastic medical care (since we have specialists and state-of-the-art equipment at our beck and credit card's call) and more playmates and toys than you can imagine.
In exchange, we practice on you. Yeah, sucks to be you.
Before I go palpating and auscultating and sticking things up the arse of animals I don't know, naturally, I'm going to start with the ones I do know. Physical exams are actually quite daunting to me. There's so much to remember and it's the basis for the rest of your diagnostics. I've always been in awe of my veterinary mentors and just how much information they can get using their four senses (taste should probably never be a part of the physical exam) and a stethoscope. The aforementioned bulldog is a horrible little psycho (affectionately known as a "caution dog" by her veterinarian) but she's stupidly tolerant of anything I try to do to her. The mare is the same way. She's actually given me some bad horse handling habits because she's just so chilled out that I forget that not all horses are the same way. Plus, it gives me a chance to spend as much time as I want to try to find a horse's heart sounds without being laughed it.
Except possibly by my riding coach.
Scratch that, definitely by my riding coach.
Don't you laugh either! It's harder than it seems. They have big hearts, but there's just so much horse between you and the heart that hearing it isn't always easy. And they're completely uncooperative about it, since the best place to hear the heart sounds is more or less directly where their leg is, and do you think they'll remove it for me? So inconsiderate!
As the pet of a vet student, you receive the best of care. Top of the line foods (since we get it discounted), fantastic medical care (since we have specialists and state-of-the-art equipment at our beck and credit card's call) and more playmates and toys than you can imagine.
In exchange, we practice on you. Yeah, sucks to be you.
Before I go palpating and auscultating and sticking things up the arse of animals I don't know, naturally, I'm going to start with the ones I do know. Physical exams are actually quite daunting to me. There's so much to remember and it's the basis for the rest of your diagnostics. I've always been in awe of my veterinary mentors and just how much information they can get using their four senses (taste should probably never be a part of the physical exam) and a stethoscope. The aforementioned bulldog is a horrible little psycho (affectionately known as a "caution dog" by her veterinarian) but she's stupidly tolerant of anything I try to do to her. The mare is the same way. She's actually given me some bad horse handling habits because she's just so chilled out that I forget that not all horses are the same way. Plus, it gives me a chance to spend as much time as I want to try to find a horse's heart sounds without being laughed it.
Except possibly by my riding coach.
Scratch that, definitely by my riding coach.
Don't you laugh either! It's harder than it seems. They have big hearts, but there's just so much horse between you and the heart that hearing it isn't always easy. And they're completely uncooperative about it, since the best place to hear the heart sounds is more or less directly where their leg is, and do you think they'll remove it for me? So inconsiderate!
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Past, present and future
I won't waffle on too much about the present. It's what I live every day, obviously. From staring blankly at a histopathology slide of a kidney, to throwing out project suggestions on totally obscure viruses to a classmate ("Really, you HAVE to do rinderpest! It's an awesome name! Ooh, or how about bovine lumpy skin disease? It's officially got "lumpy" in it's name, how great is that?"), that's my day in a nut shell. And oh yes, giant kidney worms made another appearance. *shudder*
I had a past moment and a future moment though. I run the student laundry service at the AVC, and today was the first day open for the year. A fourth year bustles in just before I close the morning shift before my first class.
Her: "Oh good, you have coveralls! I don't know if I'll need them, but it never hurts to have an extra set, right? Wait, do I need them today? What day is it? Is it a weekday?"
Me: "Um, it's Tuesday."
Her: "Are you open at lunch?"
Me: "Yep, 12:30-1:20."
Her: "I'll be back at lunch then!"
She was good to her word and grabbed a pair of coveralls. I saw her later with the rest of her group as they started their diagnostics rotation. They're so close to being doctors, but they still look nervous. I'm convinced I'll never make it as a fourth year. I can't figure out a kidney histopath slide, for crying out loud. I look at them and I realize just how far I have left to go.
And then I got smacked in the face with my past. As we were sitting in the cafeteria during a break (having the aforementioned obscure viruses conversation), a group of first years filed in, pouring over laptops with histology slides on them. Oh boy. Was that really only last year? Yes, first years, histology is all pink and purple splotches and lines. I promise it gets better when you get to organs. Tissues suck. You have my deepest sympathies as someone who's been there, done that, and sadly, there wasn't even a bloody t-shirt.
I had a past moment and a future moment though. I run the student laundry service at the AVC, and today was the first day open for the year. A fourth year bustles in just before I close the morning shift before my first class.
Her: "Oh good, you have coveralls! I don't know if I'll need them, but it never hurts to have an extra set, right? Wait, do I need them today? What day is it? Is it a weekday?"
Me: "Um, it's Tuesday."
Her: "Are you open at lunch?"
Me: "Yep, 12:30-1:20."
Her: "I'll be back at lunch then!"
She was good to her word and grabbed a pair of coveralls. I saw her later with the rest of her group as they started their diagnostics rotation. They're so close to being doctors, but they still look nervous. I'm convinced I'll never make it as a fourth year. I can't figure out a kidney histopath slide, for crying out loud. I look at them and I realize just how far I have left to go.
And then I got smacked in the face with my past. As we were sitting in the cafeteria during a break (having the aforementioned obscure viruses conversation), a group of first years filed in, pouring over laptops with histology slides on them. Oh boy. Was that really only last year? Yes, first years, histology is all pink and purple splotches and lines. I promise it gets better when you get to organs. Tissues suck. You have my deepest sympathies as someone who's been there, done that, and sadly, there wasn't even a bloody t-shirt.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Cows don't care if it's cute
With Clinical Orientation II and physical examinations looming in my future, I went to buy a digital thermometer today. First off, I couldn't figure out why all the stores were so busy at 1:30 on a Tuesday. Oh, right, the normal students haven't gone back to school yet and are still buying supplies. Bugger 'em.
Anyway, back to the health and pharmacy section I go. Now, digital thermometers are generally marketed to parents with young children. So there's a lot that come in cute designs like frogs and koalas. Last I checked, cows don't generally care that the thermometer is adorable, they just want you to put their tail down and stop poking them there. Being on a budget, I grabbed the cheapest one I could find. Then I noticed it said "30 second read time". Wait, they come in different times?? So I looked at the others. "15 seconds", "10 seconds", "7 seconds". Hm. If I'm sticking this into the business end of a green horse, or a cat having a bad day, or a goat with an attitude problem, shorter is probably better. The 7 second one would have been the best option, but I didn't want to spend $40 on something that could very well end up entirely inside where-the-sun-don't-shine, or dropped into a pile of the byproducts of where-the-sun-don't-shine. I ended up with the 15 second one. It beeps when there's a fever. Or at least, a fever by human standards. Oh, and it's waterproof. So it can be washed for when I invariably drop it in poo.
I also had to grab a cheap watch, because like all normal people, I just use my phone these days, but I can't hold my phone and a stethoscope too while taking HR and RR. The watch is also able to be washed. Or at least rinsed. Hopefully though, stuck to my wrist, it won't end up in poo.
So I'm all set for labs now. I have my stethoscope, my watch with a second hand, and my thermometer.
Wait.
Bugger.
Pen light. Knew I forgot something.
*sigh*
Anyway, back to the health and pharmacy section I go. Now, digital thermometers are generally marketed to parents with young children. So there's a lot that come in cute designs like frogs and koalas. Last I checked, cows don't generally care that the thermometer is adorable, they just want you to put their tail down and stop poking them there. Being on a budget, I grabbed the cheapest one I could find. Then I noticed it said "30 second read time". Wait, they come in different times?? So I looked at the others. "15 seconds", "10 seconds", "7 seconds". Hm. If I'm sticking this into the business end of a green horse, or a cat having a bad day, or a goat with an attitude problem, shorter is probably better. The 7 second one would have been the best option, but I didn't want to spend $40 on something that could very well end up entirely inside where-the-sun-don't-shine, or dropped into a pile of the byproducts of where-the-sun-don't-shine. I ended up with the 15 second one. It beeps when there's a fever. Or at least, a fever by human standards. Oh, and it's waterproof. So it can be washed for when I invariably drop it in poo.
I also had to grab a cheap watch, because like all normal people, I just use my phone these days, but I can't hold my phone and a stethoscope too while taking HR and RR. The watch is also able to be washed. Or at least rinsed. Hopefully though, stuck to my wrist, it won't end up in poo.
So I'm all set for labs now. I have my stethoscope, my watch with a second hand, and my thermometer.
Wait.
Bugger.
Pen light. Knew I forgot something.
*sigh*
Saturday, August 25, 2012
But I can't be stressed now - classes haven't even started yet!
*whine*
Yes, it's your favourite semi-neurotic AVCer, back from a summer filled with cat feces, llama feces, goat feces, sheep feces, blood, tears, sunshine and shrieking and laughing children (amazingly, shrieking and laughing seem to sound awfully similar in human juveniles...).
Second year will officially kick off at 8:30 AST on August 27. That is, the day after tomorrow and with any lucky, it won't be like the movie of the same name. First year orientation was yesterday, and sadly, I was working so was unable to attend it. But a huge congratulations to all the AVC 2016ers. Wear those blue coats with pride! At least until you wear them to anatomy and get cadaver juice on them.*
On what should be a celebratory weekend to kick back and enjoy the last days of freedom, I'm actually a basket case. I'm moving next weekend. My dear, loving, amazing mother and step-father are driving from Nova Scotia and they'll be loading the trailer while I'm in class on Friday. So today and tomorrow, I'm mostly packing, trying to find stuff for school on Monday, picking up things I need for the apartment (those minor but important things you don't think about until you don't have them, like a dish pan).
In all of this, I get a message in my UPEI mail account on Friday informing me that our first lecture for Diagnostic Imaging has been posted online and we're to review it for Monday. It's huge. And it's on ultrasound. I was super excited about Diagnostic Imaging. I love radiographs and MRI and scintigraphy, plus two of my favourite professors would be back. Then I remembered ultrasound and I was suddenly a lot less excited and a lot more freaked out. Given enough time, I can usually find the bladder on an ultrasound, because it's a giant black circle. Everything else, and I might as well be looking at snow on a TV screen. Yikes.
While I'm on the website, I decide to see what else is up already. Clinical Orientation II has a few things posted. Yay for learning physical exams this semester! Then I see that our first week, we start talking about stethoscopes. Oh shit. Mine's in a box somewhere. Which box? Bloody hell, I don't want to have to rip them all open again! Luckily, it was the second one I looked in.
There you have it then. Haven't even started yet, and I'm already behind the 8 ball. Go me.
*Mine never did. I only ever used it in the anatomy lab on exam days, and it was thoroughly washed each time. I'm a bit obsessive about it.
Yes, it's your favourite semi-neurotic AVCer, back from a summer filled with cat feces, llama feces, goat feces, sheep feces, blood, tears, sunshine and shrieking and laughing children (amazingly, shrieking and laughing seem to sound awfully similar in human juveniles...).
Second year will officially kick off at 8:30 AST on August 27. That is, the day after tomorrow and with any lucky, it won't be like the movie of the same name. First year orientation was yesterday, and sadly, I was working so was unable to attend it. But a huge congratulations to all the AVC 2016ers. Wear those blue coats with pride! At least until you wear them to anatomy and get cadaver juice on them.*
On what should be a celebratory weekend to kick back and enjoy the last days of freedom, I'm actually a basket case. I'm moving next weekend. My dear, loving, amazing mother and step-father are driving from Nova Scotia and they'll be loading the trailer while I'm in class on Friday. So today and tomorrow, I'm mostly packing, trying to find stuff for school on Monday, picking up things I need for the apartment (those minor but important things you don't think about until you don't have them, like a dish pan).
In all of this, I get a message in my UPEI mail account on Friday informing me that our first lecture for Diagnostic Imaging has been posted online and we're to review it for Monday. It's huge. And it's on ultrasound. I was super excited about Diagnostic Imaging. I love radiographs and MRI and scintigraphy, plus two of my favourite professors would be back. Then I remembered ultrasound and I was suddenly a lot less excited and a lot more freaked out. Given enough time, I can usually find the bladder on an ultrasound, because it's a giant black circle. Everything else, and I might as well be looking at snow on a TV screen. Yikes.
While I'm on the website, I decide to see what else is up already. Clinical Orientation II has a few things posted. Yay for learning physical exams this semester! Then I see that our first week, we start talking about stethoscopes. Oh shit. Mine's in a box somewhere. Which box? Bloody hell, I don't want to have to rip them all open again! Luckily, it was the second one I looked in.
There you have it then. Haven't even started yet, and I'm already behind the 8 ball. Go me.
*Mine never did. I only ever used it in the anatomy lab on exam days, and it was thoroughly washed each time. I'm a bit obsessive about it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)