Week 46 - Getting Pumped Up & Crashing Right Down

Thursday #47 – for something different, this week I woke up in my own house and headed off to uni after my not-so-usual-anymore weetbix.  The Italian and I were scheduled on for colour vision clinic and were expecting just another standard day of red-green colour problems. 

When My Twin Chinese Horoscope Supervisor came to debrief us, there was some scepticism (mostly from the supervisor herself) over whether our patient would actually have the blue-yellow colour vision problem he had been referred for.  Short Skirt Short Jacket and The Quiet One had initially tried to claim this patient on the basis that they hadn’t yet had a patient who wanted to join the police, but when he suddenly became more interesting My TCH Supervisor opened it up for us to fight over who got to see him.  With everyone being too polite to say anything I snapped him up and we went about our testing, doing everything monocularly and taking twice as long.

As the results started to indicate a tritan deficiency we got a little excited (in a nerdy kind of way) and My TCH Supervisor started making calls about what to do next.  Despite the fact that we had already been told he possibly had a tritan defect and all we did was run some subjective tests; it somehow felt like The Italian and I had made an amazing discovery.  Things were going well in clinic and we were on a bit of a high when it came time to see our next patient.  A slightly more boring deuteranope, we had done our testing in record time and were ready to pat ourselves on the back when My TCH Supervisor announced that I would have to explain the patient’s condition to him.

It should have been easy, and it was, until I got up to the bit where I had to name colours and I froze.  Surely I can blame The Farge’s colour vision problem for my own inability to describe colours?  My TCH Supervisor jumped in and all was well until the patient left and she asked if I knew why she had asked me to explain.  This led to a conversation about my confidence (or lack thereof) and a light-hearted comment that my only problem is me…which inevitably led to tears.  I tried super hard to keep them in but I think The Italian knew they were coming.  My TCH Supervisor (presumably unaware of how embarrassingly frequent these clinic breakdowns are) escorted me out of clinic, holding my hand, and went for a walk in the sun trying to make me feel better.  Having to discuss all the things in optometry that I’m worried about passing did nothing to help my confidence battle…her suggestions of adding to Malibu to Hot Chocolate may just do the trick though.

After a strange morning of highs and lows I headed back home.  I had some lunch, changed my hairdo, put on some make up and switched my shoes so that by the time I returned to uni that afternoon for contact lens clinic it felt well and truly like a different day.  With The Plural Confuser as my supervisor it wasn’t looking like I was going to get out of clinic early that night.  As is often the case with The Plural Confuser, I left that clinic not really knowing if I had gone well or terribly…just part of the fun of optometry at UNSW.

When we headed home, M-Dizzle and I were in agreement that pizza was the way to go for dinner.  I justified it with the “I’ve had one of those days” and M-Dizzle just ordered without the justification.  Some Mediterranean Lamb and a phone call from DTM later I decided to call it a night.

For a Thursday which had started so promisingly it certainly didn’t end up as one of my best.  On the nerdy bright side, The Italian and I are the only students to have seen a tritanope in clinic and unlike My TCH Supervisor, we didn’t have to spend 20 years in colour vision clinic to see one.

Week 45 - "Studying" & Fattening Up

Thursday #46 –  I once again woke up early this week at DTM’s and managed to scoff down some fruit salad before heading to uni.  I’d taken a bunch of notes and textbooks to DTM’s on Wednesday night with the intention of being super productive and studying for my exam that Friday.  I was pretty good with studying on Wednesday night so didn’t feel too bad about leaving my car there to pick up after uni on Thursday afternoon and take my notes back home to The ‘Bra to study that night.  It was a seemingly flawless plan.

When I got to uni, The Italian and I were told we could spend the morning studying rather than following around optometrists aimlessly, as we had been doing for the previous 8 days.  This would have been great news had they told us of their plans on Wednesday and we could have actually brought notes with us to study.  Instead we killed time the only way we know how, Google Maps and singing random names to the Barbara Streisand song – not actually one of Babs’ hits but the Duck Sauce song “do do do do do do do do do do do, do do do do do do do do do Barbara Streisand”.  It started in Red Eye Clinic and doesn’t show any signs of getting old.

We decided to give ourselves an early mark since the brief for that morning had been to study and we had left our study notes at home.  I headed off to DTM’s, craving hot chips and gravy (the gravy was The Italian’s suggestion and took me back to my primary school days when Quit It and I would often stop by the chicken shop after school, being the health freaks we are) and just fatty foods in general.  I rocked up at DTM’s, said hello and informed him of my lunch plans.  He was actually being good and going for a run so resisted my offer of a healthy fried potato lunch.  When I returned with my chicken salted chips (sans gravy) I was for some reason surprised to see DTM tucking into them.  I’ve never seen the man say no to chips with chicken salt but wasn’t expecting him to eat half my lunch since he is apparently training for a marathon.

With lunch over DTM headed off for a cheeky 10k run and left me to “study” for an hour since I was not feeling keen to head home straight away.  I caught up on Friends (which probably wasn’t necessary given in 10 years I never missed an episode) and continued my healthy eating regime with a Wispa Gold choccie that The Italian had recommended.  Since it was 2 for $2 I later tucked into a Picnic as well, just for good measure.  When DTM got back from his run he tried his best to help me be productive and work out why I was in a bad mood (I thought the next day’s exam made that fairly obvious).  He managed to briefly cheer me up before I inevaitably remembered I had an oral exam in less than 24 hours.  I did not get a lot of study done by the time I finally left DTM’s that night.  I headed home and tried my very best to cram for Friday’s exam.

Not a particularly good Thursday but significantly better than the day which followed it.  The fact I probably gave myself a cholesterol problem and/or diabetes just add to the awesomeness.

Week 44 - Anatomying & Take-awaying

Thursday #45 – after watching DTM’s return to the stand up scene on Wednesday night, I once again found myself in The Northern Beaches on Thursday morning.  For the second week in a row I scored a lift to the bus stop with The Cabbie and somehow ended up at uni 40 minutes early.  It seems 6 months of living in The Eastern Suburbs has completely ruined any concept I once had of how long it takes to get to the city from the beaches.  This wasn’t a complete disaster though as it did give me time to grab a bacon and egg roll and an OJ for brekkie.

When 9am finally rolled around it was off to another exciting day at The Centre For Eye Health.  This 2 week rotation at uni involved 4 hours a day of following around optometrists and watching them run scans and occasionally answering questions about what said scans mean.  At the end of it, there’s a big scary oral exam where we’re asked questions on the past 5 years of optometry until we can’t answer any more.  The general consensus is we aren’t expected to pass.  Can’t wait for next Friday.  Short Skirt Short Jacket came to tell The Italian and I that we apparently had an early mark this Thursday and we’re still not completely sure why but took it none the less.

A cheeky trip to Oporto on the way home and I was ready to get my study on.  After a solid afternoon nap, a few annoying phone calls to DTM and a trip out to get some Thai for dinner I was ready to hit the books.  I revisited first year anatomy and was stunned by how little I knew about the very thing I’ve been studying the past 5 years.  With some chocolate on hand my study streak continued until midnight when I decided it was best that I get some sleep ahead of another exciting day at The Centre.

Not a particularly fun Thursday as I realised how unprepared I am for next week’s exam, but a fairly good one food-wise as I realised every meal I’d eaten that day was take away.  Good for my tastebuds, less so for my wasteline.  With the oral looming, it’s unlikely next week will be any better.

Week 43 - Case Presenting & Celebratory Shopping

Thursday #44 – it was another early start this Thursday as I left DTM’s to head into uni for a 9am start.  I managed to score a lift to the bus stop with The Cabbie and somehow got to uni early, despite leaving later than I had last Thursday.  This proved fortunate as once again I had not had time for breakfast at DTM’s, so picked up a ham and cheese croissant and a hot chocolate to down before clinic.

I bumped into The Greatest Shavee upstairs and was asked some rather deep questions for 8.45 in the morning.  She kicked things off with “how is your life?” before delving further with “why is your life good?”  My inability to answer her second question had me in all kinds of doubt about my answer to her first question and suddenly my perfectly good Thursday morning wasn’t looking so good anymore.  We’ve since discussed this and she is apparently working on her small talk skills.

I headed down to clinic for another day of red eye and tried my hardest between patients to finish case reports which were due that afternoon.  When 3 o’clock hit, The Italian and I headed off with Short Skirt Short Jacket and The Quiet One for our 2 hour oral exam.  We each presented a case we’d seen in our 2 weeks in red eye clinic and then answered questions on our case/diagnosis/management.  It all would’ve been fine had the examiner not been The Bitchiest Straight Guy We Know.  I volunteered to go first just to get it out of the way.  I humoured The Bitchiest Straight Guy We Know with a bunch of differential diagnoses, even though my patient walked in with a referral telling me he had a corneal foreign body.  It continues to frustrate me that I am examined on my ability to identify a bunch of possible diagnoses which I know are wrong – surely in the real world optometrists aren’t sitting there looking at a foreign body thinking “hmm well it could be viral conjunctivitis”.  Nevertheless I came up with a solid list of what it wasn’t and based on my mark am beginning to wonder if maybe The Bitchiest Straight Guy We Know is aware of how I feel about his stupid assessments.

3 hours later we got out of our 2 hour exam and another half an hour later The Italian and I managed to get out of the building.  With a couple of student cards which weren’t working, a staff card from reception and a comedy of errors involving getting stuck in both an elevator and a stairwell, we finally made it out and were determined to celebrate after completing our exam.  We went our separate ways but being girls we both ended up at the shops.  After a skirt, a bag and two pairs of shoes I decided I had better leave before I put myself in more debt.  DTM didn’t seem to understand my sudden shopping spree (and fair enough given my catchphrase for most of the past 5 years has been “I’m a struggling uni student”) but I pointed out that he was in no position to judge and that his recent purchases were part of the reason I needed to go shopping.  Watching him buy a ridiculously huge TV, new bed, 2 seat recliner and 27 inch display for his laptop had made me incredibly jealous and desperate to buy myself something the first chance I got.  With my tax return back and Centrelink’s start of semester bonus making its way into my bank, this Thursday seemed like the perfect opportunity to hit the shops.

With an oral exam it was by no means a good Thursday but it was certainly a relief when the assessment was over and hitting the shops to buy shoes did take me back to my very first Thursday without free movies.