Tuesday, April 20, 2010


I took a killer cardio final today.

It was hard. Very hard. As I read through the test, I had to keep telling myself that my professor, who was sitting in the back of the room, was NOT a complete butt-face. That he was simply trying to make me a good doctor.

When I walk into an exam like this one, I always take a brief moment to notice my professors demeanor and attitude as he greets me and extends the test packet my way. I use this quick encounter as a reminder of the big picture to all this school stuff--that my knowledgeable teacher is making an effort to help me learn what they know so well in veterinary medicine.

I try hard to take those few seconds and really appreciate why the professor is there and how that professor is trying to help me. I try to picture him sitting in his home late at night rubbing his eyes, tweaking on his lectures and thinking of ways to help me grasp the material. I try to picture him putting just as much effort and concern into preparing his material and test questions as I do when I study for his exam. I try to see how he truly does care about my well-being as a future veterinarian.

And then the test packet slides into my hand. And I see that instead of a test packet, I've been handed what appears to be a small book--weighing close to...50 lbs or so. This is my first hurdle.

I try to prevent this seemingly absurdly lengthy test obscure my perception of how my professor is trying to help me in life rather than hurt me.

I take the walk down the aisle to my seat, and in that time, I've done the best I can to regain a positive outlook on the situation. I sit. Take a breath and take a quick moment to prepare myself for what I may find inside of this book--I mean test packet.

"Ok Adam. you may find some tough ones in here, but don't get worked up about it. The teacher has your best interest in mind." This is what I tell myself.

Then I have a looksy.

Ok... Mhhmm.
Ok.... I'll just come back to this one...
Maybe that one will come to me a little later.
Ok. Ok.
The teacher is trying to help me. The teacher wants me to do well.
He isn't out to trick me. He isnt out to trick me.
This one is tricky, but Im sure he didn't intend for it to be.
Ok.. this one is a little stupid but ok.
This isn't good for me.
Dang it!!!

By this point, my imagination has done a little rewiring. I'm now seeing my professor in a dark room tapping his fingers together and thinking of ways to make this the most uncomfortable and nearly impossible test known to man.

I'll tell ya. This is hard. It wears me out.

For the record. I am very grateful to be at school and I really dont think of my teacher as butt-faces...most of the time anyway.

Welp--bird just crapped on my screen. Must be time to go inside.

Hm... looks like he was a little dehydrated too.


  1. I want to be you when I grow up! I aspire to write a blog post titled "Buttface" one day...
    Hang in there, bud! You're going to be an amazing vet one day!

  2. Thanks. I need all the help i can get.

  3. totally laughed out loud on those last two lines, and totally feel your pain... except I am in butt-face teacher mode when I walk in the door and something worse by the end of the test... hey, come visit me and Joe soon!


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