Yesterday, after attending an OTM practice session with the fellows, I left feeling somewhat ecstatic . . . redeemed, healed! With my arms raised high above my head and eyes fixed towards the heavens, I found myself exclaiming — “I BELIEVE!”

I readily admit that my conversion did not take long. In fact, I was a believer even before coming to KCOM. That is, I was a believer in the theory behind the practice; namely, that structure defines function. What I did not completely believe in, though, was my ability to diagnose and treat dysfunctional vertebra correctly.

However, that is no longer the case. I have seen and tasted the light, and it is delicious! Not once, but twice! Yesterday it was a classmate whose spine crackled back to “normal”; and tonight it was my wife! The latter had some pain radiating into her lower extremeties — until, of course, she was introduced to the “Kirksville crunch”. “Much better,” she reported, adding, “the pain in my leg is gone”. Two different treatments with two similar results –

Yes, Dr. Still, I believe . . .

Yesterday I got through a second round of standardized patients (SP) relatively unscathed. Unlike the first round, my awkwardness in being “natural” in an otherwise “unnatural” setting while trying to cover (and remember) all the components of COPMAPS was not digitally recorded. Thankfully, neither was the smirk that came to my face upon entering the patient’s room . . . as images of Kramer presenting with gonorrhea ran through my mind!

Fortunately, the cases I encountered were not nearly as complicated (i.e., sinus infection, head pain from falling) this time around. Instead of debriefing the SP encounter with faculty one week after-the-fact, we were to receive on-the-spot feedback directly from the patient — once, of course, the patient history was complete.

It was rather refreshing (and insightful) to see the SP not as mere actors but as individuals within the community — as it did not take long before feedback became advice . . . advice regarding the importance of empathy, understanding, making the patient feel as comfortable as possible, especially when meeting them for the first time. Feedback was no longer personal but about the system. Within moments it became clear that this so-called “SP encounter” was much more than just an extracurricular activity. It was an opportunity . . . an opportunity to both listen and learn!

Today marks a graduation of sorts! Today was the first day of interviews for the class of 2014. As these eager, well-dressed hopefuls pass me in the hall looking somewhat like a deer caught in headlights, stunned, dazed, overwhelmed — or, perhaps, is it catatonic glee? –  my mind naturally reflects upon my own experience and interview almost one year ago.

The hardest question . . .

Dr. Theobald (Pharmacology Department): “If your best friend was to give a description of you and your characteristics (i.e., strengths and weaknesses), what would they say?”

The most piercing question . . .

Tim Tucker (Student Resources): “What exactly do you mean when you say [in your application] that you see yourself as a leader while at school? What kind of leader?”

With the interview season officially on its way, it seems I will have ample opportunity to reflect and reminisce with classmates . .  . swapping, sharing, and retelling war stories again and again. It is interesting to consider just how easy it is to recall the questions asked by the interviewers in all its blood and gore! Much easier than, say, the glowing portrait I painted of myself in response to their queries! Selective memory? Perhaps. Or, could it just be that I am not living up to what I professed . . . that somehow the oil on the canvas has smudged, my self-portrait flawed?

Regardless of my inability to recall the idealized responses of last year, I do have the chance to answer my interviewers’ questions now. Frightening prospect, I realize, to be a little more authentic, more real . . . to get out the oils, the easel, the canvas, if you will, and start anew! Brushing shoulders with so many potential colleagues serves as a reminder that some of the best and most enduring art is not constructed in an hour interview — but in a lifetime!

See you on campus, Class of 2014! (Oh and one more thing — do not let anyone fool you, immortality is but a bad interview away!)