I have a person in my life that I will refer to here as my step daughter. I do this for simplicity's sake, as the actual relationship is a bit more byzantine.
She's in her second year of medical school in San Diego, and she's having a tough year. She has dyslexia, so medical school is already tough for year. She also has asthma, but that didn't stop her from placing in gymnastics at the state level when she was fourteen. To put it simply, she's tough.
The high point of this year are the first set of medical boards. Classes end and students are expected to study 12-14 hours per day for the six weeks or so leading up to the exams. Social distancing in the extreme. This is happening now.
This January she was studying appendicitis. She spent four days believing that she was imagining the symptoms, but she wasn't. She had acute appendicitis. A quick surgery, and she was back in class in less the four days. Ex-competitive gymnasts are tough.
A few weeks later she was studying neuro-cardio illnesses. Her grandfather had a stroke. Luckily a minor one.
Then comes the pandemic. The fourth years were called to the battle lines. The third years were called to the battle lines. The first years can volunteer on the battle lines. The second years are different.
The dean has told the second years to forget about anything except the exam, and this makes sense. Once they're through the exams, they are legally far more useful. It's hard to keep focused in this maelstrom though, and there is also the fear of what comes after.
The one piece of good news is that her cohort's boards have been delayed by a month until they can secure a safe testing space. A moment of reprieve. A few weeks for her to catch up with her classmates after the semester's setbacks.
Oh, you know that unrecognized high-danger fault that runs by San Diego? It slipped. There have been eleven quakes since last night. Are they aftershocks, or a prelude a much bigger shake up?
She's in her second year of medical school in San Diego, and she's having a tough year. She has dyslexia, so medical school is already tough for year. She also has asthma, but that didn't stop her from placing in gymnastics at the state level when she was fourteen. To put it simply, she's tough.
The high point of this year are the first set of medical boards. Classes end and students are expected to study 12-14 hours per day for the six weeks or so leading up to the exams. Social distancing in the extreme. This is happening now.
This January she was studying appendicitis. She spent four days believing that she was imagining the symptoms, but she wasn't. She had acute appendicitis. A quick surgery, and she was back in class in less the four days. Ex-competitive gymnasts are tough.
A few weeks later she was studying neuro-cardio illnesses. Her grandfather had a stroke. Luckily a minor one.
Then comes the pandemic. The fourth years were called to the battle lines. The third years were called to the battle lines. The first years can volunteer on the battle lines. The second years are different.
The dean has told the second years to forget about anything except the exam, and this makes sense. Once they're through the exams, they are legally far more useful. It's hard to keep focused in this maelstrom though, and there is also the fear of what comes after.
The one piece of good news is that her cohort's boards have been delayed by a month until they can secure a safe testing space. A moment of reprieve. A few weeks for her to catch up with her classmates after the semester's setbacks.
Oh, you know that unrecognized high-danger fault that runs by San Diego? It slipped. There have been eleven quakes since last night. Are they aftershocks, or a prelude a much bigger shake up?
Turns out, just aftershocks.
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