I suppose a holyday is as good a time as any; and better than most; to try to finish my chronicles of medical school. Since no one has commented on these, they may only be of interest to me--but it would help if I could bring some closure to the project.
On July 24, I ended by commenting that I was doing independent study for a semester while waiting for the fall entry into U of I. The reason for doing so is that at that time one could take the same test everyone took at the end of the first year, on the "basic sciences," such as physiology and anatomy. Fortunately as I said no cadavers were harmed in the making of this medical student--but fortunately also for me, the test was entirely written. I have some natural test-taking abilities so this was on my side--but I also buckled down.
But after all that preparation, I missed the test! I went on my previously described vacation, but in planning it, Andrea used a German calendar--which she did all the time--to plan our time off. But it was a week late! I was enjoying Vera Cruz while the test was being given. So I returned to Chicago to be shocked into the reality that the time of testing was over, and so I flunked not just a little, but 100%!
This falls into that category of awful dreams wherein you can't remember your locker number, your teacher's name, your homeroom etc. And when the test is passed out, you realize you studied the wrong book or even the wrong subject, or didn't study anything at all. Anybody besides me had these "traums"? The German word for dream seems to fit here, in the sense of traum-a.
Except this was all too real.
So I started the first year of medical school--again-- comforting myself coldly with the idea that I would still learn new stuff, and would have Medical Boards Part One, the test of fear that is done at the end of the second year, down cold. But still I felt that I had largely done my first year abroad in vain. (But I did learn my Spanish and have been using it ever since--such that about one third of my patients are Hispanic--another unforeseen benefit.)
And as one TNY cartoonist famously said, "And here a miracle occurs.........."
One of the first courses I started was the one that couldn't even be offered in my school in Mexico, due to poor finances of the students and of the school, to wit, Histology, the study of normal cell structure. U of I did provide a very heavy microscope and prepared slides which I would lug around Chicago like unto Will Smith in "The Pursuit of Happyness" with his portable bone density machine. And as in the movie, I felt like FAILURE was written all over me and the dumb microscope.
After a month or 6 weeks of this, there came a surprise announcement that the first year test, the one I missed, would be offered again! Now, I had not said a thing; I was far too ashamed of my/our error to even "traum" of asking the authorities of the biggest medical school in the USA to allow me a "make-up exam." But apparently a few other students had missed the exam, and petitioned the Schulmeister to re-offer the exam, which they then did! Probably they either had better excuses, maybe illness, or maybe they just made something up. It reminds me of Charlie Brown on his pitcher's mound when Lucy conveniently reminds him that he is a hypocrite, as is everyone else (excepting herself, the queen of Crab): She said, "You're no different than anyone else, Charlie Brown." To the which (witch?) our glum hero replies, "Yes, I am! At least I feel guilty about it !"
But this is what happened, when I took the test: I found that there were a lot of photomicrophographs of clusters of organ-specific cells on the test! Thanks to my Dad, I had some experience with doing actual photomicrographs of amoebas, a freshman biology project which co$$t him a lot of money in those days!
It was a few more weeks before we got back our scores. The deal was, if a student answered at least 50% of the test questions correctly, s/he could go right on to the second year. Guess what I scored?
51%!!!!!
Now from a learning standpoint this was perhaps not the best thing to happen to me--but in point of fact, had I not gone to the second year, I would not have interned with my friend Steve Humowiecki and hence I might never have met, much less married, Flo. This alone would have been enough to endure any prior or subsequent humiliations, "as it is this day."
Oh, it's all a coincidence, right!? (depending on one's grid of understanding and a priori assumptions) But had I not been humbled enough to have to go back and repeat everything, I would never have ;earned any histology--a small yet huge gap in my education--and I certainly would not have gone over the 50% mark.
Did I pray about this? Not that I recall--I wouldn't have known how--that came later when I faced even more viscerally grueling attacks--but even when I did, I only prayed the segments of the Lord's Prayer than I could remember. Those prayers were, frankly, not answered; at least not in the way I wanted or could have anticipated. But ultimately and slowly I learned that God is gracious enough to give us what we need--even if it takes years of apparent silence--and not what we want. Thank God.
I like to write, obviously; but never in my strangest "traumen" could I have made up such a thing as the above. Art imitates life--because life is a lot more prodigal (generous) and profuse and inimitable and interesting than the most elaborate fantasy ever. Taking on idol #2, Science has no explanatory power in any individual cases such as these because it is based on statistics and probability. If sciencia would stop trying to be the theory, nay, fact; as we are now told; of everything, we would be somewhat better off--yet our basic problems would not be altered at all. Bring down one idol, men will put 2 in its place, as happened eventually in the saga of the golden calves; so is it to this day.
I realize that this may seem overlong but as the song says, "the half of which has never yet been told." I have left out numerous details which are apropos to the subject and my experiences, which all seem to fit together seamlessly in hindsight, and you know what they say: "Hindsight is 20/20." Sozo!!!
(questions always welcome "'round these parts")
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