Back with a Vengeance

I'm feeling very vengeful - I feel betrayed and a tad jostled around. The reason for this - as well as the reason for my (conspicuous, I'm sure) absence over the past few days, is that Ross held their first semester I mini-examination a few days ago, on the 18th of February. Granted, I'm not feeling all that vengeful, really; I just feel like complaining a bit.
IT WAS REALLY HARD!!!
That was expected, though - I knew it wasn't going to be easy. I didn't expect it to be a cakewalk. Hold on - let me pause to say that I'm pretty sure I passed. I was just a little unpleasantly surprised by the level of attention to detail required of us - the questions didnt' so much reflect the teaching. Here's a primary point in my complaint: I'm being taught by Ph.D's - not medical doctors. They want me to know things in much more detail than any (dare I say) real doctor will ever use (Sorry about that, Uncle E).

Nevertheless, I did fairly well, considering that something like 43% of our class failed everything and 60% failed biochem (the big subject this semseter). Was I where I wanted to be? Not quite, but I can get there. There's a new level of detail I need to slip into my studying, and along with that comes the realization that God put every single one of those tiny little cellular junctions and molecules in there for a reason, so I shouldn't complain too much. Those numbers, though, are quite alarming, and lead me to wonder if (1) the professors are maliciously writing questions to bring people down, or (2) they're just bad test writers. Because, honestly a 60% failure rate can't be attributed entirely to the students.

I know, I know - I should post more; but I'd hate to bore you. If I posted every time I got the chance, it would sound a lot like "studying.....still studying......turned the page.......still studying....." However, this week I have the pleasure of dissecting the anterior and medial thigh, which I am very much looking forward to. In addition to that, this is blood week, and our professors are flying through hemoglobin and the clotting cascade so fast, it's making my head spin. Although, I've got to say, I've always though the heme molecule looked like a pretty flower.

Last weekend, Nicole and I went out to Tomatos - a nice, rather American establishment, and I had my first glass of wine since setting foot on this rock. To say that it was absolutely fantastic is needless; though Caribbean blood courses through my veins, I think that I shall always choose a hearty red over ginger wine.

Perhaps, in a few days, I'll have more tightly plotted, effectively constructed post - for now, I will simply be contend with building lasting mental structure for hemoglobinopathy and the joint capsules of the upper limbs. Though I may be delving deeper and deeper into the human body, this island is still pretty, although, the longer I live her, the less I think of Dominica. Not that I'm homesick, I'm just learning that there isn't really anything special about this place. The food isn't that great, and it's kind of a backwards little place. This is the kind of country I'd run to as a fugitive from somewhere first-world. Really, I'm not being unfair - it's still a beautiful island. But that's about it.