The environmentalist group The World Wildlife Fund recently released a study claiming that humans are growing at a rate so quickly that by the year 2050, we will be out of food. This leaves us with only one course of action: to eat the homeless. That’s right, according to the Eat The Homeless Project, men and women in severely impoverished economic brackets could act as food staples for the rest of us. The FDA has conducted studies showing that the homeless have less fat than beef, more vitamins than chicken, and that their knapsacks make great surprise grab-bags. It would be like a hobo Christmas. Just imagine on December 25th when children come running down stairs saying, “What did I get, what did I get? Pots and pans, oh boy!”
Unfortunately, cannibalism should be reserved for Plan B. Plan A is finding unique opportunities to keep the population going. Hence, I entered medical school. From classes to patient encounters, let me tell you about my first year here at the University of the State.
Things were going well enough in the fall until along came anatomy. Now I knew that the human body was complicated, but when we started dissecting the peritoneal area, things got messy. There are so many veins, arteries, and nerves just in the sphincter that it would seem as if potty training is what separates us from the animals. Here I thought that it was the brain, but it seems as if the butt is the pinnacle of human evolution. And if that’s not bad enough, you have apply this knowledge in the clinical setting.
You’ll get thrust into a room where a 4th Year will invariably say, “I want you to listen to this heart murmur.” And just like that, the story of The Emperor’s New Clothes comes into effect. “I hear a murmur. Only smart people can hear a murmur. Do you hear it?”
“Um… yes. Yes I do. Just to make sure we’re listening to the same thing, what does a murmur sound like?”
“You know, like a murmur. It’s very murmurish.” And then she’ll quickly change the subject to avoid a real explanation.
After class, you’ll then get the opportunity to test your new knowledge on real patients at a variety of health fairs. You’ll get to see new cultures and even learn a new language. I, for one, have become quite fluent in Spanish since moving here. I can now say, “no habla espanol” much more convincingly than I could in the past. I also got to see what happens when we have limited supplies for helping the poor. I went to Central America for Spring Break where we gave ibuprofen for every disease our patients had. We even gave ibuprofen for gall stones. Giving Advil for gall stones is like using hugs to fight cancer. Mmmmmm… take that melanoma!
So enjoy the first year. It’s the most fun you’ll never want to have again.