SP Encounter

I know what you're thinking, but no: I didn't travel back in time.

This week, we had our doctoring final in the form of a Standardized Patient (SP) Encounter. Our task was to perform a full physical exam on a stranger in 15 min. I had rehearsed the moves through the entire semester and felt ready.

However, through the week, rumors were spread about how difficult the test was. Especially, students were not able to finish the exam on time. I couldn't imagine the case as I practiced with my roommate each day, achieving average times of 10 minutes.  That the testing situation would take 50% more time?  Inconceivable.

Regardless, tensions grew as more and more people reported magnificent crash-and-burn attempts.  Unexpectedly, my rehearsals grew worse as we tried to incorporate the new suggestions.  The changes felt arbitrary, unnatural.  The night before the big day, I ran my worst exam ever, forgetting to report numerous steps.

The stage was set for uncertainty.  As is ritual on exam days, that morning I had an extra large breakfast (eggs, oatmeal, yogurt, toast, strawberries, blueberries, banana, pineapple).  In the waiting room, I watched my classmates scramble through rehearsals with last-minute intensity.   I closed my eyes and emptied my mind, trying to purge all predictions but the one I intended.

The exam started slowly.  I had trouble building up momentum.  There were no more reassuring nods from the patient, no safety net of notes on the computer behind me, no familiar normal findings.  Forced to tell this patient that yes, she was abnormal.  I was going so slowly!  She wouldn't take off her socks when I asked....I needed to check the feet! Would it be ok if I didn't check?  But she said no!  Come on, move on, must keep going, I wasn't going to get any help.  Wait, I think I'm on the wrong side of the table.  But I'm not sure....quick, think back to the practice at home.  Didn't JG have to lie at the foot of the bed? Yeah....I'm on the wrong side!

2 minute warning came and I'm still working.  I ignore it and continue on.  This is when I shine, when the pressure is on.  I can hold composure.  That's what I tell myself is my redeeming quality.  Time to test if it's true.

At this point, I'm expecting the final call to come at any moment.  The moment the final report left my mouth, the loudspeaker blared the end of the session. I took exactly 14:59 minutes.

Perfection couldn't come any sweeter.