the line that's plagued with death and the blessed with the gift of life

As I progress more along this line, the more I see death and well of coure life too. But the childish dream of saving lives may just come to an abrupt end or just stay as a dream if I don't work harder. As my exams approach, I panic more, like a little boy who can't hold his bladder running to the toilet. I leak. Under pressure.

Nice.

Just the other day, I spoke to a patient before she went into the operation room. I met her and her family the week before in clinic, doing the whole history and physical for admission (yada yada... not impt ). I get very chatty with patients, and like to form relationships with them. Sad thing is, if I don't buck up with my head knowledge, I'm just going to either be able to cheer my patients with friendly chatter, or I'd chatter them to death. Either ways, it will fit the profile of medicine as I described (see above).

Right. I thought I'd be nonchalant about things for once and blog about rubbish. I believe I'm succeeding aren't I?
Anyhow, before saying good bye to the patient, I said something really corny, like ." Right, gotta go. Busy saving lives" jokingly with a thumbs up and a wide cheesy grin.

As I walked away, I chided myself, for once again, for I had let the lack of sleep diminish the functions of my frontal lobe. Patients must think I'm nuts.
RIght. Back to studying. Still as cool as a cucumber. Not panicking yet.

Ohmygoodnessohmygoodnessohmygoodnessohmygoodness.............

(Some random screaming and thrashing around the room)