Guys! Today is my last day of studying! The psych final yesterday went great, and the endocrine final tomorrow is gonna… go.
To celebrate, I left my room to grab a smoothie from the hospital cart. There was a sullen looking Surgery resident standing in line next to me.
I knew he was from Surgery because his white coat said “Surgery” (yes indeed, they let me into med school with these sharp skills of deduction), and I knew he was a resident because he looked pretty pissed off about ordering 6 very specific smoothies from a crumpled up list in his pocket.
Resident: And uh, next is one blueberry pineapple with.. wait. You have strawberry protein powder, right?
Smoothie Man: *cold, dead stare* *pushes gallon-sized “Plain Whey Powder” bottle across counter*
Resident: Oh. No? Oh. *stares at list* … Is there another smoothie cart around here?
I felt bad for him, but I paid and left before I could feed my curiosity about how exactly he was going to carry those 6 smoothies back to the hospital. Although I guess that fetching smoothies probably doesn’t make the top 10 on the list of tragic residency problems.
Still, I have to admit: That’s the one residency problem I’d feel good about handling: As a former late-night-drunk-shift waitress at Bob’s Diner, I would be damned good at carrying 6 smoothies at once. (Also, damned good at telling customers we’re out of, say, Strawberry Protein Powder, dealing with angry bosses, and knowing exactly when to refill the coffee.)
Waitressing is on my mind today because while procrastinating last night, I found my high school xanga account. And let me tell you, there is no shame spiral like an “oh my god, my high school diary is still online?” shame spiral. But the one decent thing I did write about (in between all of the vague ‘artistic’ posts and months of updates consisting of nothing but Dashboard Confessional lyrics), were some awesome diner stories.
I might rerun some of them this summer. There’s a lot that remind me that medicine has a lot of similarities with menial labor.
Speaking of menial labor – I’ve got my sugar fix, so I guess it’s time to go back to the flashcards.