Brrrr.

This month the weather has taken a turn for the colder and with it my vigor to study hard has been sapped. I've always disliked the cold because it just paralyzes my muscles. It's bad when the weather is close to freezing and you want to go for a jog, but it's even worse when your hands are so cold you can't write with a pencil or type on a keyboard very well. So, I've moved my studying from my desk and into my bed.

Studying in bed is great and now I have an excuse to do so. My electric blanket keeps me comfy, my stretched out legs have plenty of room to move around and my bed isn't too cluttered because I'm on a queen sized mattress. At night I share my bed with my binders, textbooks and notebooks by my side. How very fitting for the life of a graduate student.

Tests are a constant presence in my mind. We have been having at least one per week and it seems that as soon as we finish one we barely have time to draw breath before turning our attention to the next test. Next year during our rotations we're only supposed to have one test per month, so it will give us more leeway to study what we'd really like to. For example, right now I'd like to review some anatomy that I learned during the spring semester and create some more digital flash cards. But I realize that if I turn my focus towards anatomy, it's not going to help me on my microbiology test in three or four days from now. It's like learning or relearning old material kicks out the new material  in my head. Wouldn't it be great if our minds had the storage capacity of a computer? As long as I wasn't stuck with a 1.4MB floppy disk for a brain, I'd be able to absorb and recall all of the information that I wanted to.

Among all of our classes this fall semester, I'd have to say that my favorite has been our microanatomy course. It's not easy and there's a lot of memorization, but looking through the microscope is like delving into another world. Histology is quite bizarre when comparing what's on a slide to what we see in our everyday life. Pathologists have quite the imagination when they say something like a cell pattern has a 'starry-sky' appearance or a nucleus has a 'Pince-Nez' appearance. (Usually they don't look anything like their descriptors. Perhaps these pathologists breathed one too many formalin fumes during the discovery process.) Anyways, this class is starting to affect my everyday life. Whenever I see something that has a strange pattern to it I'm reminded of all sorts of diseases. The wallpaper in my room looks hemorrhagic and papillary with nests of poorly demarcated cells surrounding capillaries. I'm surrounded on four sides by a huge inverted papilloma covering the walls of my room.