Having Tea in TB Class 

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It was the second cycle of the semester as 4th year students (*dances because I’m getting closer to the end*), and it was to be “Phthisiopulmonology”, which is a fancy word for “Study of Tuberculosis”.
We had been warned that the teacher was racist and mean, and truth be told, I didn’t warm up to her the first day. Come Monday morning, she came into class smiling and welcoming, so I relaxed.. See, she isn’t so bad…

Then came the…..talks.
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#MedicalSchool Chronicles : 1st Week of Summer Practice

I just finished my third year of medical school, which meant a lot to me, but especially these two things :

  •   I’d written (and passed, thank God) five of the most grueling exams I’ve ever taken on, and
  • I get to begin summer practice (as we’re 3rd/4th year students, it’s basically nursing training)

The practicals consist of two “parts” : surgery and propaedeutics, with each taking two weeks. My group and I started off with Surgery, and luckily we were all assigned to the same hospital.

W e got zero time to recover from exam fever, and having been sent two pdf files detailing instructions concerning addresses and such of our practise in Russian language, and having to decode the whole thing, which really wasn’t a bother, but it did give a sense of foreboding to the coming events..

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From where i stood, you were all i could see

PART ONE

 2005

The rain had slowed to a drizzle, and she was regretting wearing a jacket out, the inside of the car was getting warm. She leaned back into the car seat, silently willing her sweat glands to not act up. She would take it off, but it would be too loud in the pervasive silence that neither of them seemed to want to break. She glances at him quickly, and he too is leaning against his seat, easy smile on his face. But she knew he was a bit tense, his fingers gently drumming against the steering wheel.

She wondered how much longer it could go on, the only sound being the light taps against the roof, and the occasional student walking across the parking lot.

“Liz…”, his voice seems unnaturally loud in her head, and though she knows he wasn’t shouting, she flinches. He doesn’t notice. “Liz… You wanted to talk”Read More »