Doctor - a zigzag journey

Part 30 - An experience at Dartmouth, USA (2)

Background: 2003 (Age 36 years)

Snow was everywhere: driveways, walk paths, car parks, and the campus (see photo, the outdoor chairs and tables were buried in thick snow).

"One of the workers in the medical center slipped and broke his arm this morning. Get yourself a pair of snow boot," Lyn, who was my colleague in the laboratory, cautioned me.

"I am sorry to hear that. Thank you for telling me, Lyn. I will," I replied. Buying a pair of snow boot meant cutting down my expenses on meals. Nonetheless, I would, for the sake of safety.

"I am going to attend a lecture and grand round with other medical students, and I will discuss my research with Prof Yeo on another day, please let him know if he looks for me," I informed Lyn as I walked out of the laboratory.

"OK, enjoy the teaching sessions," Lyn replied in a supportive tone.

Walking into a histo-pathology laboratory, I saw a tutor who had a professorial look sitting in the middle of the class in front of a microscope. On each of his side, there were several seats with viewing eyepieces connected to the main microscope. When the professor showed a slide of tissue specimen using the middle microscope, all the students could view the slide simultaneously.

"Good morning, everyone, I'm KC," I introduced myself.

"Find yourself a seat please," the professor instructed.

Other students nodded as a gesture of welcoming me. The atmosphere seemed tense for the reason I would soon know.

I sat next to a very brilliant looking female student. Her name, Jane, was embroidered above the pocket of her white coat. Her shoulder-length hair was blonde.

"Students, this is a liver biopsy specimen, tell me what's the diagnosis," the professor asked in a stern voice expecting a prompt and correct reply. Everybody hunched over the eyepieces of the microscope. Silence. We could hear each other's breathing.

"Jane," the professor called out.

"I can see steatosis, lobular inflammation, and hepatocellular ballooning in this specimen. The diagnosis is NASH," she replied with confidence. (NASH meant non-alcoholic steatohepatitis).

"Well done," the professor complimented her.

She was brilliant!

The teaching lasted for an hour. Tensed. However, this was a valuable new experience for me; it was an eye-opener indeed.

The students chatted with me as we walked to attend a grand round in a large lecture hall.

Sitting in the middle row, I could see that most students were in their white coats. They were smart. We used the polling devices to response to questions posed by the lecturer. The statistics of the correct and incorrect answers were displayed on the big screen in a few seconds! It was a great experience in interacting with peers and the lecturer.

At the end of the grand round, participants grabbed a sandwich and ate it while they were on the go. I was no exception. This free food helped cut down my expenses.

In the afternoon, I returned to the laboratory.

"Do you want to participate in a research on the use of BNP to detect cardiac ischemia?" Lyn told me as I walked into the laboratory.

"Of course, my pleasure," I replied and my eyes were alight with excitement. I love research, I really do!

"Go to the other laboratory to check it out," Lyn encouraged me.

I followed the instruction, met the research officer, gave my consent, and did as per the protocol. The person-in-charge took my blood to measure BNP before and after an exercise stress test.

"Thank you for your participation. You have a good evening," the research officer said.

"My pleasure," I replied sincerely.

I packed my bag and left the laboratory. On my way to the bus stop, I could smell delicious western food as I walked pass a few food stalls. But I bought a big hamburger instead because it was cheaper.

Alighted from the bus, I walked to the Dartmouth library in the campus while munching my hamburger. I was hungry. Snow fell on the hamburger adding a free dressing on top of it. I finished eating it before I reached the library. Then, my stomach was half full.

In the library, I searched and found the recommended "Acland's Video Atlas of Human Anatomy". I showed my 'scholar student badge' to the librarian to loan the video and a set of headphone. Dr. Robert Acland was an innovative microsurgeon, anatomist, and educator who helped students succeed in anatomy. Watching, pausing, reviewing, and memorizing the anatomical parts, were what I did in the evening. I was exhausted but satisfied with my progress. I left the library and walked into the dark snowy night lit with street lights. The walk-path was covered with thick snow. I was extra cautious as I had yet bought a pair of snow boot. I remembered what Lyn told me in the morning.

My landlord, Peter, and his family, did not lock their main door to the house; they said that it was a safe residential area. I could access to the house and my room anytime. They were asleep when I reached home. I turned on the warm yellow light in my room and found a small note on my desk: 'dinner with Peter and Prof Jerry Yeo and their families on xxx.' I looked forward to catching up with them socially, and to feed myself with better food.

I laid my bag on the desk, emptied my wallet, counted every cent of my money, and recorded my expenses in my diary. It was time to tighten my belt. I must spend within the budget of the scholarship and if possible to save some money to pay my fees for the next two to three years. I was worried about the fees for my clinical years as I had almost finished spending my savings for the first two years of the medical course. I went to bed with my half-filled stomach and tear-filled eyes. This was the life of a 36 years old mature student in a foreign country. I missed Ah Ma (my mom) and my siblings in Malaysia. I was sure that they missed me too. I closed my eyes and I could visualize the trail of footsteps in the snow that I had left and it would disappear in days, but the memory of this experience would stay with me in my lifetime.