We had our second exam of the semester this past Monday, and I think it went considerably better than I'd expected. This was the first test which had me feeling extremely overwhelmed (I've got more cluster bridges than I know what to do with), and I actually lost sleep before the night of the exam - something I haven't done since the MERP final. It was so frustrating to plan out my studies, get through most of it, leave enough time for an 8 hour sleep - only to toss and turn until 4:00 in the morning, be fully awake from then until 6:00, and only manage to get a scant hour of good sleep. Nevertheless, the epinephrine kept me going, and I think I did alright. My favorite professor is an old-school Italian pathologist (my panic was due almost entirely to the mountain of information he presented) who, around exam time, ends his e-mail responses to students with "In Bocc' al lupo", which is apparently a Roman (now-Rome, not ancient) student's exam-time wish that means something like "good luck". It literally means "In the mouth of the Wolf". This was the first time I've ever really felt that way.
I had to share another little piece of medical coolness. Here and here are the story of this little 7 year old girl who basically had her entire digestive tract taken out (with parts of it replaced) so that doctor's could resect a very rare tumor. It was tough to get a name, but it's called an Inflammatory Myofibroblastic Tumor. Here's what it looks like inside the body - it's basically composed of muscle-cell precursors gone wild. One of the hallmarks of cancer that distinguishes it from a benign tumor is the infiltration of other tissues with cancer cells - not quite metastasis; more invasion. With the aggressive surgery this little girl went through, the most likely clinico-pathology of her tumor is probably best explained by saying that those vicious little muscle cells you see below - with their big, ugly, purple nuclei - swarmed all over everything in her little tummy, taking over like a plague of locusts. That's why they had to take our everything in her abdomen, and put back what they could. That's why they couldn't save everything.
I had to share another little piece of medical coolness. Here and here are the story of this little 7 year old girl who basically had her entire digestive tract taken out (with parts of it replaced) so that doctor's could resect a very rare tumor. It was tough to get a name, but it's called an Inflammatory Myofibroblastic Tumor. Here's what it looks like inside the body - it's basically composed of muscle-cell precursors gone wild. One of the hallmarks of cancer that distinguishes it from a benign tumor is the infiltration of other tissues with cancer cells - not quite metastasis; more invasion. With the aggressive surgery this little girl went through, the most likely clinico-pathology of her tumor is probably best explained by saying that those vicious little muscle cells you see below - with their big, ugly, purple nuclei - swarmed all over everything in her little tummy, taking over like a plague of locusts. That's why they had to take our everything in her abdomen, and put back what they could. That's why they couldn't save everything.
It's not common at all, and I'm still trying to figure out all of the nuances - you see, we're constantly studying cancer; true to its nature, it's infiltrated every aspect of medical learning. I guess it makes sense; people are living longer now, and basic pestilence and hunger are no longer the greatest threat to [most] people. In addition, we've got a plethora of designer chemical aimed at doing everything from making our food taste better to holding together the chairs you're sitting on - it makes sense that we'd miss something, and that there would be some untoward reactions with the very cells of our body. Granted, most cancers happen in much older people, due to the body's diminishing ability to keep up the myriad sub-cellular repairs necessary every second, but we've also got lists of chemicals that predispose to certain kinds of cancer. Sometimes, they just pop up and attack like packs of hungry wolves, tearing the body to shreds before the patient's eyes, and other times, they're far more insidious; more patient.. I can't help but think what a technological marvel it is that they've managed to save this little girl.
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