In the same vein as my last post, I consider myself fair and even keeled - not prone to snap judgments, willing to place myself in someone else's shoes (even though my first impressions are usually correct). Thus, when someone strikes out with me, they strike out. Today, I'm talking about one of our professors - a gentleman who has thus far proven a sore disappointment. I'm not going to tell you his name, but I guess I'll have to tell you his specialty later on; that was part of his third strike.Strike 1: Remeber that post from way back when, in which I talked about how Nicole wasn't feeling good during an anatomy lab, and went to sit outside, looking, in her words, absolutely awful? I'll try to see if I can find the link, but I told how a professor just passed her by, without asking how she was doing. At first, I was a little upset - even if you're just a janitor, you're still med-school faculty - hell, all you need to be is a human being; one would think you can recognize someone who doesn't feel well. I'd eventually gotten over it by telling myself that he was probably a Ph.d who didn't have a lick of clinical experience. Well, I came to find out on Monday that this very same gentleman was going to be taking over our pulmonary physiology lectures - and he is an M.D Ph.D. So this trained medical doctor waltzed by a student who wasn't feeling well, not even stopping to ask.
Strike 2: During class yesterday, this professor, in a lecture on lung mechanics, was asked how one would administer synthetic surfactant to the little babies whose lungs aren't mature. Now, I was't listening, but when the question was posed to me, I thought for a second, and guessed that it must be inhaled somehow. Do you know what our professor - our M.D. Ph.D- said when posed the same question? "I don't know...." Wait....WHAT?!? What do you MEAN you don't know? How can you hold more than one advanced degrees in this area and NOT know?!? That really pissed me off, because if I was a Ph.D, I guaran-damn-tee you I'd know. That's like a surgeon not knowing what fentanyl is. Strike 1 was bad, but strike 2 is making me question this guy's professional qualifications.
Strike 3: You're out, prof. There's no arguing, the ball was perfectly pitched and gave such a titanic swing and a miss that my head is still spinning, and I'm still wondering what the hell is wrong with you. You see, Dr. Professor, when I came back from dissecting out the heart yesteday (and what a beautiful lab it was - but I'll get to that later), as I was walking to the ATM to get money for the laundry, I saw you smoking. Yes you, Dr. M.D. Ph.D Pulmonolgy professor who doesn't know how to give artificial surfactant, I saw you smoking. Thanks, Benedict Professor. You're failing as a human being on so many levels. I've complained about other professors, but you very clearly take the cake. Stick a cigarette in it - I'm done.
I did something yesterday that gave me extreme pleasure (they just about had to kick me out) - I dissected the heart. It was just play, really - instead of cleaning out fascia and fat and all of the unpleasant stuff living just beneath your skin, I got to look at Trabecula Carnae and papillary muscles. Actually, I made two observations that, if you've ever been inside a heart, will hopefully make complete sense. The first is that trabecular carnae (called pectinate muscles in the the R.atrium) looks like Freddy Kreuger's face. The second is that, after you cut into it (no easy task, I assure you), left ventricular myocardium looks jus like steak. There's just so much cool stuff in there! For one thing, on the prossector video shown at the beginning of every lab, the heart had a patent foramen ovale! My heart didn't, but we still found the fossa - I mean, how can you miss it?The heart is absolutely beautiful - it's not like the lungs, or even the muscles of the legs. It's gorgous and perfect and so much can go wrong with it, but this twisted little bundle of highly complex muscle contracts about 1.5 million times during your life (learned that on jeopardy; not anatomy lab). Actually, it was much prettier after I cleared out a handful of clot and platelets from each chamber. The chordae tendinae were, literally, silvery white.
As displeased as I am with this current pulmonolgy professor, all of our anatomy professors absolutely rock.
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