I'm officially done with my first week of medical school! They eased us into it, but we sure hit the ground running - it's not going to be easy, but I'm loving it so far. The biochem is bearable (direct quote from the textbook - I kid you not: "Enzymatic catalysis is like sex - it requires close physical contact"), the microanatomy/cell biology professor is fantastic, and I can't wait to get my hands dirty in the anatomy lab. I know that we're learning everything because we'll have to know how to be well-rounded doctors, but some of it just feel less, well, doctorly - I really don't care for biochemistry (although this professor's book might make me like it); it doesn't really feel medical - just scientific. However, on the other hand, studying anatomy makes me feel like I'm really here - this is the human body, this is what I want to learn about. We dive in next week with superficial back anatomy.
We got out to the open sea, and the first noticeable thing was that the Caribbean Sea is a color of blue I'd never seen anywhere else - it's this cobalt, almost electric blue, that isn't quite discernable from the island proper. Now, maybe it's just because the Texas Gulf coast is a sickly shade of seafoam green, but I'd always thought "the ocean blue" was merely a poet flexing his literary muscles. This was a deep, warm blue - I've never seen
it in any other ocean, and we I don't remember seeing it as we were flying in. I guess I kind of imagined the sea to be blue - it's easy to accept from far off, but this blue was up-close and personal. So we were moving out into the Caribbean sea, dropping microphones and looking for whales, when I began feeling queasy, and had to go lie down on the nets. Eventually, we sailed out from under the heavy rainclouds and into direct sunlight - something that didn't help the nausea.
I got to check out Ross' gym this week - it left much to be desired. I'm a big bag of muscle aches right now, though - after not having really done anything physical except for hiking a few weeks ago, I went overboard and somehow managed to squeeze in something every day this week. Can I get three cheers for lactic acid buildup? Yeah....didn't think so...
At the end of the week, we participated in our White Coat ceremony - our official welcome to medical school. From what they told us, the ceremony was instituted in part to refocus medical education on compassionate patient care, in a time when an impersonal understanding of science had become the goal. Now I'm not big on ceremonies (I was ready to skip 
my high school graduation, but I was forced into it), but this one in particular had a very solemn, very important feel to it. We sat through the presenting of the Dominican colors, the entrance of the President of Dominica (His Excellency Nicholas J. Liverpool - mostly a figurehead selected by the real man in power Prime MinisterRoosevelt Skerrit - the youngest prime minister in the world, ever), the singing of the national anthems of The CommonWealth of Dominica, West Indies and, surprisingly, the United States of America, and were welcomed by our deans and president of the school before receiving an inspiring address by prominent Ross alum (a gentlman who, basically, is public healthcare in Atlanta). Then, we were lined up, and a member of the Ross University School of Medicine faculty symbolically dressed us in our white coats and handed us a pin, and then we altogether read Maimonides' Morning Prayer of the Physician.
my high school graduation, but I was forced into it), but this one in particular had a very solemn, very important feel to it. We sat through the presenting of the Dominican colors, the entrance of the President of Dominica (His Excellency Nicholas J. Liverpool - mostly a figurehead selected by the real man in power Prime MinisterRoosevelt Skerrit - the youngest prime minister in the world, ever), the singing of the national anthems of The CommonWealth of Dominica, West Indies and, surprisingly, the United States of America, and were welcomed by our deans and president of the school before receiving an inspiring address by prominent Ross alum (a gentlman who, basically, is public healthcare in Atlanta). Then, we were lined up, and a member of the Ross University School of Medicine faculty symbolically dressed us in our white coats and handed us a pin, and then we altogether read Maimonides' Morning Prayer of the Physician. Today, Nicole and I went whale watching. Now I don't even like the sea (ocean motion is equivalent to reverse peristalsis for me), however, (1) we'd picked up some bonine, and (2) I didn't want to be a spoil-sport, so we got up this morning to go find us some whales. First off, we were in the wrong place at the wrong time - due to a lack of organization on the part of the organizing groups, we were at the library at 8:00 in the morning, instead of meeting in front of our hotel at 9:00. Nevertheless, we took advantage of the blip in our schedule to pick up our library barcodes, and run down to James' Store for some ground Trinidadian coffee. The boat was late anyway, so we made it back with plenty of time, but the woman we'd paid in the student goverment center had neglected to check us off as having been paid. However, we were allowed onto the boat - both of them. The dock here ends halfway, so we had to pile into a little dingy and motor our way over to the catamaran through a chilly morning rain. The surf was choppier this morning than I'd ever seen before (in my wide and varied experience with Caribbean tides and ocean currents), so I was set on looking for a place to lie down, instead of whales.
We got out to the open sea, and the first noticeable thing was that the Caribbean Sea is a color of blue I'd never seen anywhere else - it's this cobalt, almost electric blue, that isn't quite discernable from the island proper. Now, maybe it's just because the Texas Gulf coast is a sickly shade of seafoam green, but I'd always thought "the ocean blue" was merely a poet flexing his literary muscles. This was a deep, warm blue - I've never seen
it in any other ocean, and we I don't remember seeing it as we were flying in. I guess I kind of imagined the sea to be blue - it's easy to accept from far off, but this blue was up-close and personal. So we were moving out into the Caribbean sea, dropping microphones and looking for whales, when I began feeling queasy, and had to go lie down on the nets. Eventually, we sailed out from under the heavy rainclouds and into direct sunlight - something that didn't help the nausea. Maybe I'd taken the bonine too late - because after a while, I got to feeling better. The green nets were stretched out between the hulls of the catamaran - exciting vantage points for sea-watchers, I suppose. We circled around for a few hours, not seeing or hearing much. I wasn't too involved in the whole matter - I don't get along well with boats. I became violently ill while fishing in the Gulf Coast off of Tampa a few years ago, and the same nausea seemed to pop up when I went fishing off of the Texas Gulf Coast about a year ago (I can handle bay fishing, but that's about it. My sea legs must have been amputated in a previous life). I didn't get sick, but we didn't find any whales either. I managed to get some great pictures of the island from the sea, and then I came home and fell asleep.
I got to check out Ross' gym this week - it left much to be desired. I'm a big bag of muscle aches right now, though - after not having really done anything physical except for hiking a few weeks ago, I went overboard and somehow managed to squeeze in something every day this week. Can I get three cheers for lactic acid buildup? Yeah....didn't think so...
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