As stated in my previous post, I approached the idea of summer practise in Nigeria with quite a bit of anxiety (one morning I actually hid in my sister’s bathroom… the entire why of that deserves its own post).. So, I was actually surprised I ended up enjoying it.
And this is all because of the doctors I met/was assigned to while there :
There’s this cool thing we get to know in medical school, and it goes by different names, but for the purpose of this post, it’s going to be called : “clinical training”.
Summer break, rather than laze around or hang out with friends (though you can be certain we find tine for that), we spend managed hours in the hospital, assigned in various departments to different doctors, hopefully acquiring practical skills/knowledge and brushing up on what we had learned so far.
The system may vary from school to school, but because medicine is medicine, the formula stays fairly the same.
However, for the first time, I would be practicing at home, in Nigeria.
“He’s thinner than she remembers. His shirt hanging awkwardly on his shoulders, his gait sluggish. She waits for him to look up and see her, waits for the way his face would light up, waits for way he’ll draw her into his arms. He doesn’t.
I have dry skin. Very dry skin. Which I inherited in combination, with my nose and D-cup, from my lovely parents, whom in retrospect where probably not considering the resulting mixture of their genes when they did that which shall not be named. Read More »