Donde estas, life?

As I embark on this lovely journey that is called medical school, there is one thing that becomes very apparent very quickly: you have no life. Having come out of the working world, I had heard rumors of this pseudo-state of isolation, but never actually allowed myself to believe in this sad, sad fact. In fact, as proof of my non-living status, I recently got a phone call that went as follows:

Someone in the Real World: "Hello, is this LAG?"
Me: Yes
SRW: I'm just calling to confirm a reservation for two at TenPenh for 5:30pm this evening
Me: Uhh....(clueless. Wondering if it has anything to do with posttranslational protein modification, which it clearly doesn't. Damn)
SRW: Ma'am? Are you still there?
Me: Um, could you just cancel that reservation?
SRW: Sure. We're sorry you can't make it, but we hope you will come back another time.

So after hanging up the phone I realized that I had made reservations for restaurant week with a friend of mine who went on vacation. That was when I was a real person and went out to places like restaurants, drinking wine and having normal non-science conversations with actual people. Now I just sit in my room and have conversations with myself about protein trafficking.

Yes, I'm going to savor this journey for the next four years.

A Glimpse into the Future

Considering my meager prospects for literary fame, I figured I would do the next best thing--go to medical school. It's a logical choice given my ethnic background, but perhaps I'm being a little hasty. After all, do I really know what it takes to be a doctor?

Faced with such daunting questions, I decided to do some research in the form of easily-digestible bathroom reading. I chose to indulge in The House of God by Samuel Shem (really a pseudonym for Dr. Bergman of Harvard University). Many older practitioners decry it as disreputable slander about the medical profession--a modern-day pariah--but most young interns glorify in its cathartic release. How can one not? Here's a sampling of some of the laws of "The House of God:"

Law #1: Gomers don't die
Law #2: Gomers go to ground
Law #3: At a cardiac arrest, the first procedure is to take your own pulse
Law #4: The patient is the one with the disease
Law #5: Placement comes first (in a nursing home, that is)
Law #6: There is no body cavity that cannot be reached with a #14 needle and a good strong arm.

Apart from colorful characters like The Fat Man and Chuck, the real clincher is that everything is apparently true. Based on a good number of Amazon.com readers, things haven't changed much since 1972. Suffice it to say that I laughed, I cried, and at the end, was left feeling a little anxious about the future. Why? Let me just leave you with an afterword by the author:

"I began writing The House of God for catharsis, to share with my buddies what had been the worst year of our lives. I realized that what I was describing was so awful that if anyone was to read it, it had to ride on humor."--Sam Shem

Where do I sign up?