I really need to fulfil the requirements of creating a blog. I could always use my golden reason (or excuse, whichever you want to call it :P ) 'I'm a medical student; I don't have enough time to sit and write!'. But, Time management has never been my strongest suit (on days that I don't have exams, mostly), so that's my reason.
Now that I have gotten rid of the guilt, I shall proceed with this post.
In my first year, I had to spend a year learning the anatomy of the human body. It involved lectures, demonstrations and dissection sessions. Dissection classes were kept right after our lunch break, and it lasted 2 hours. It was there that I made most of my friends, my favourite teacher and learnt a lot, alongside fooling around (immature first year med students you see :P ). Table 2, the cadaver and the formalin smell became our second home that year. After the initial few weeks of confusion, apprehension and homesickness, we all got along well with each other. I have fond memories of the shenanigans that happened at our table, and I continue to spend time with my tablemates, as some of us get posted together during our clinical assignments.
I have to say though, I met most of my batchmates as high school kids. I watched them grow up (I have, too!) and mature to the college students that they are (some of them, not so much maturity, but my tolerance level for them increased), and most of this I had observed during these sessions. The class was allotted for 2 hours, out of which our teacher would teach for an hour, and the other hour was meant to be utilised to observe the structures. It was utilised when the need for it arose (eg. revision before table tests or exams) but mostly, the other hour was spent cracking jokes and just interacting with one another. It was when I saw them grow.
Apart from that, it was where we all met Dr. B, our first anatomy teacher, and our mentor. He was a spectacular teacher who taught us the upper limb, and made us feel more comfortable in our initial days away from home.
'Have any of you tried to see what is under this?'-Dr. B
It all began when he unveiled the cadaver to us, because we were all slightly cowardly to look at what was under the big green cloth covering the body. As the days progressed, we all eagerly awaited his classes, and paid utmost attention when he taught us the muscles, nerves, blood supply and the few clinical applications of the anatomy.
The department has a policy to rotate teachers after the completion of each region of the body. But our contact with Sir never faded. We would go to him for academic advice during the year, or just go up to him to inquire about him. As we moved on to our paraclinical and clinical subjects, we weren't able to see him as much. When we did, he would greet us with a smile, and tell us stories about his experiences and inquire about what we were up to.
He has struggled a lot in this field, and has inspired us (I think I can safely say that) to become good, moraled clinicians.
'I can face whatever they throw at me.'
That was his attitude towards his career life, and in my opinion, it's only the strong ones who can go through a lot, and come out successful.
This post is for you Sir, and we will surely miss your presence here. You have seen us all grow up, and you helped us so much. The college you're moving to and its students are lucky to have you!
Now that I have gotten rid of the guilt, I shall proceed with this post.
In my first year, I had to spend a year learning the anatomy of the human body. It involved lectures, demonstrations and dissection sessions. Dissection classes were kept right after our lunch break, and it lasted 2 hours. It was there that I made most of my friends, my favourite teacher and learnt a lot, alongside fooling around (immature first year med students you see :P ). Table 2, the cadaver and the formalin smell became our second home that year. After the initial few weeks of confusion, apprehension and homesickness, we all got along well with each other. I have fond memories of the shenanigans that happened at our table, and I continue to spend time with my tablemates, as some of us get posted together during our clinical assignments.
I have to say though, I met most of my batchmates as high school kids. I watched them grow up (I have, too!) and mature to the college students that they are (some of them, not so much maturity, but my tolerance level for them increased), and most of this I had observed during these sessions. The class was allotted for 2 hours, out of which our teacher would teach for an hour, and the other hour was meant to be utilised to observe the structures. It was utilised when the need for it arose (eg. revision before table tests or exams) but mostly, the other hour was spent cracking jokes and just interacting with one another. It was when I saw them grow.
Apart from that, it was where we all met Dr. B, our first anatomy teacher, and our mentor. He was a spectacular teacher who taught us the upper limb, and made us feel more comfortable in our initial days away from home.
'Have any of you tried to see what is under this?'-Dr. B
It all began when he unveiled the cadaver to us, because we were all slightly cowardly to look at what was under the big green cloth covering the body. As the days progressed, we all eagerly awaited his classes, and paid utmost attention when he taught us the muscles, nerves, blood supply and the few clinical applications of the anatomy.
The department has a policy to rotate teachers after the completion of each region of the body. But our contact with Sir never faded. We would go to him for academic advice during the year, or just go up to him to inquire about him. As we moved on to our paraclinical and clinical subjects, we weren't able to see him as much. When we did, he would greet us with a smile, and tell us stories about his experiences and inquire about what we were up to.
He has struggled a lot in this field, and has inspired us (I think I can safely say that) to become good, moraled clinicians.
'I can face whatever they throw at me.'
That was his attitude towards his career life, and in my opinion, it's only the strong ones who can go through a lot, and come out successful.
This post is for you Sir, and we will surely miss your presence here. You have seen us all grow up, and you helped us so much. The college you're moving to and its students are lucky to have you!
