Earlier this week, our professor gave us "homework". I couldn't help but smile, because for some reason the word instantly brought me way back to the elementary memories of finger painting, making "pigs in a blanket", naps, Friday fun days, even the more painful memories of peeing on myself on the way to the bathroom (which seemed as far as the moon at the time) and laying there on the grass hoping the sun would dry up the stain and save me the embarrassment.... then my thought process was interrupted by the drugs we just learned about. I couldn't help but think how in that moment there was either not enough beta-2 receptor stimulation (causing the bladder to relax) or the receptors were already saturated. Or maybe there was not enough sympathetic alpha-1 receptor stimulation to keep the internal sphincter of the bladder closed in that shameful moment. Oh how a few pills of Ephedrine would have came in handy. Nevertheless, the end result was a wet spot on my shorts and yellow socks (TMI?). To which I think I tried to explain by saying that the grass was wet at that spot I was laying.
Medical school is a whole different beast because of the pace at which we the material is presented. Inevitably, these subjects keep filling the crevices of my brain, eventually spilling out onto nostalgic memories... something like urinary incontinence.
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