In an effort to curb my recurring insomnia, I've started reading at bed time with the hopes of bringing the wheels that are furiously spinning in my head to a screeching halt. So far, it's worked (kind of) and The Last Lecture by Randy Pausch has graced my nightstand for the last month. What a great book. It certainly makes me think twice about the worries I have in my own life.
Yesterday marked a pretty big milestone in my little second year med student life...we had standardized patients guide us though male and female genitourinary exams. Nicknamed MUTA/GTA (or MOODA GOODA as we lovingly call it) it was the first time in my life when having my face (and my hands) in a complete stranger's junk was perfectly acceptable. I'll admit it, I thought looking for inguinal hernias was fun, so I asked the guy if I could do it again. I think he liked me. As for the female exam...I wasn't as impressed. I did, however, attempt to relieve the deafening silence in the room by talking about random things during the breast exam. From Fat Tuesday to King cake to Sunflower Bakery to my parents(?)...I did the best I could. Hopefully it was better than or equal to the awkward silence she was expecting. And maybe now I won't shudder at the sound of a metal speculum clanging on an exam tray.
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