school of hospitality

The best thing about Harry Potter is that the books would totally work if you take the magic out of them.

Philosopher’s Stone: Harry moves to a mysterious secluded boarding school, there he hears about a dangerous item being hidden on the school grounds. Turns out one of the teachers is the terrorist that killed Harry’s parents.

Chamber of Secrets: A series of mysterious incidents happen in the school, where students get hospitalized due to near-fatal snake bites. It’s all connected to a mysterious chamber in the castle, and a series of similar murders that happened 50 years ago.

Prisoner of Azkaban: An accomplice to Harry’s parent’s murder escapes from prison, and Harry must learn the truth about the connection between the escaped prisoner, his father, and the new teacher at school, as well as the identity of the real accomplice.

Goblet of Fire: An international tournament between several schools becomes a dangerous game as the terrorist plans his return by infiltrating the school with one of his followers pretending to be somebody else.

Order of Phoenix: The government cracks down on the school, denying everybody who dare say anything about the terrorist’s return. Harry and his friends must create an underground group to train to fight the terrorists.

Half-Blood Prince: Harry learns more about his teacher’s troubled history, as well as principle Dumbledore’s history with the terrorist back when he was a student. Harry and Dumbledore travel to find one piece of the terrorist’s secret plan, only in the end for Dumbledore to die at the hands of Harry’s teacher.

Deathly Hallows: The terrorists have taken over the school. Harry and his friends travel across the country to find the rest of the pieces of the terrorist’s plan in order to stop him. They found out the terrorist is obsessed with an old legend known as the Deathly Hallows. The story ends with an all out battle between the terrorists and the school staff for the fate of the country.



So I thought I would make this post because my bag has helped me survive night shift/nursing in general. I bought this cosmetics bag at Target, it was a little expensive but I’m sure you could find a similar one for cheaper. I put it in my nursing bag and bring it to work every night.

So what’s in it?

It has three sections - 

1. Medications - I get tension headaches so I added Excedrin. You could keep Benadryl, Advil, Tylenol, Prevacid, etc. Just get the small bottles.

2. Boxes - BandAids have been so useful. I slam my hand on things or snag my arm on the door all the time. Midol for obvious reasons. Don’t laugh at the Imodium, I literally saved a preceptor one time because she got suddenly sick with diarrhea and pharmacy didn’t have any medications they could give her.  I also keep assorted packs of meds like my Claritin. I put my feminine products in this compartment. These flossers are also a life saver. After I eat lunch I feel like I have food in my teeth, so these babies are the bomb.

3. Hygiene - Mints for after lunch breath, chapstick for every reason ever, makeup remover/facial cleanser wipes (you never know when you will get something nasty on your face), hand moisturizer, dry shampoo, deodorant. I also have a small contact case and contact solution for contact emergencies. On the other side of this middle pocket I have a couple of small bills ($5 and $1) just in case I forget my card and need food.

Other things you could add - nail file, small toothbrush and toothpaste, extra hair ties, powder, hairspray, neosporin, hydrocortisone cream, etc, etc.

I didn’t become a nurse to get a front row seat to other people’s tragedies. I did it because I knew the world was bleeding and so was I, and somewhere inside I knew the only way to stop my own bleeding was to learn how to stop someone else’s.
—  Nurse proverb

Sister’s Industrial School, looking east from Saint Francis Cathedral (under construction in foreground), Santa Fe, New Mexico

Photographer: Ben Wittick
Date: 1880?
Negative Number 015857

Sister’s Industrial School, built in 1878 - 1881, was later used as hospital, St. Vincent Sanitarium, which burned June 12, 1896

“Do you even understand medicine?”  The words landed like a punch in the stomach.  It was 3:30 AM and I had taken my 4th admit while also managing a patient with SVT and one who was rapidly decompensating.  My senior was visibly stressed and I was the target that happened to be standing in front of her.

We had disagreed on the plan of care for one patient.  And then I had wanted to increase a patient’s pain meds, but apparently my proposal would have been too much.  It was clear that with all that was going on she needed the help of a fully functional resident, not just me, the lowly intern.

Welcome to night float.

They say that night float is where you “earn your stripes.”  In essence, few good things happen at night and the bad things happen quickly.  It is your job to answer pages, triaging what is important and what can wait until the day, and take admits from outside hospitals and the ER.  It is a time where you learn a lot about medicine and yourself as a physician.

I felt tired and worthless.  With each mistake I made my self-esteem spiraled and I became more distracted, making more mistakes.  I started to put orders in on the wrong patient.  I added admit orders that were already done.  I lost a note that I didn’t save.  The night was cascading into an internal chaos, where self-doubt and fatigue brought me to a point of being unable to make decisions.  But I pushed through, despite being reamed by my senior resident.  And somehow I survived.

I went home as the sun rose.  I felt defeated, on the verge of tears.  Was I cut out to be a doctor?  Did I make a bad choice in doing medicine?  Is everyone going to know me as the weak intern?  I slept that day and returned as the sun was setting, the questions still percolating internally.

But that night was better.  As was the night after.  My senior resident apologized.  Life went on and my reviews on the next rotations were extremely positive.  

Being a doctor is not anything like what I expected.  There are so many things they cannot teach you in medical school, the least of which is that you are fallible.  You are going to make mistakes and people are going to be upset about that.  To my knowledge I have never made a mistake that made it to the patient, but one day I know that will happen.  But if you let those small mistakes affect you it will quickly spiral out of control, which is what happened to me.  

Sir William Osler, possibly the most notable figure in American Medicine, spoke about the idea of living in “day-tight compartments.”  He advised to avoid reflecting too greatly on the past and to keep your mind from wandering to the future.  Always keep your focus on the task at hand.  His words echoed in my mind as I attempted to put that night out my thoughts.  We all have bad days, and we must move forward without allowing those days to weigh heavy on our thoughts. 

A fellow that I knew as a medical student ran into me the other day and asked how I was doing as an intern.  I explained that some days were tough and that I sometimes doubted if I was cut out for this.  “The long white coat is a lot heavier than it looks,” he responded.  In so many ways that is true.  But by living in my day-tight compartments I am not going to make it heavier than it needs to be. 

an abled person who has never heard of your illness, and does not know even the very basics of your illness has more of say in how your illness is handled/treated and believed in your profession/school/hospital/life than you, the disabled person, for the simple fact that they are abled, and society values their opinion more.

whether its because they assume the disabled person cant answer for themselves, which is ableist, or they in general just feel like the opinion of an abled person is more solid, more believable, and for some reason, more educated than the actual person who is actually handling the illness.

it doesnt matter what kind of thought comes out on this subject, because it IS always going to favor the abled person, because we dont value disabled people as much as we do the abled, so we dont value disabled opinions as much as we do the abled ones, even if the disabled person is the only one who actually has any idea what theyre talking about, even if theyre the ones being affected by the result, their say will matter more, no matter what, because they are abled. that

THAT is how bad the ableism is in our society.

100 Things You Learn Third Year of Medical School

So every year I’ve been writing these lists of 100 things you learn in each year of medical school (Found here). I am incredibly excited this year to bring you my list of 100 Things You Learn in your Third Year of Medical School.

This list contains advice about how to function on the floor, how to study, and how to handle your work-life imbalance. Click through to find such advice as:
• Whatever size scrubs you wear will be the least common size to find. Take as many pairs as you can find and stockpile them.
• EVERY procedure in OB requires shoe covers. Better to not need them than to have forgotten them
• Night shifts only come in two flavors: Insanely busy or so quiet you can not keep your eyes open.
• The best residents will notice when you’re sitting around doing nothing and will send you home—the worst residents will forget you’re even there.
• Falling asleep at 9pm is nothing to be ashamed of—in fact be proud of it.
• Get comfortable with being uncomfortable.

Best of luck all you new MS3s!

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