Todd's Story

***TMI warning. You did click on a birth story, after all.***

Things leading up to Todd's birth were pretty hectic (and by that I mean possibly scary but not fully scary, and very out of my control). My blood pressure (BP) started to creep up towards the end of the pregnancy, and that meant extra doctor visits, which can be emotionally exhausting. One of the doctors even said, "Okay if your blood pressure doesn't go down in ten minutes I'm sending you to the hospital to deliver right now," and then it went down (barely) so I was sent home. Emotionally and hormonally, this was a weird time. Besides my BP, I was showing other signs of possible preeclampsia that were in that same worrying/not-worrying zone. As for the baby, he was also showing maybe/maybe-not problems. His stomach was too big on ultrasounds at 19 weeks, and this persisted at 30, 34, and 36 weeks. His too-big stomach was a potentially major concern because it might have meant that things were undeveloped in his intestines, and that food wouldn't be able to move through. Which is, obviously, bad news and fatal if not corrected. Because we have to poop, you guys. We HAVE to. Finally towards the end of the pregnancy, they determined that at least SOME stuff was getting through, so maybe he just had some restrictions in his digestive system, which still might require surgery. All this to say that they wanted me to deliver early (BP and all that) and they wanted baby to stay inside longer (the stomach thing and all that). But then the baby started doing poorly on non stress tests and biophysical profiles, so we had to have those every 2 days. It was stressful.

We ended up rescheduling surgery and he was delivered at 38 weeks (on Harry Potter's birthday, actually: only a few days after my birthday and a few days before Calvin's birthday. Nice little McCarrey Birthday Week there). The night before he was born James had a debilitating migraine that was so bad it sent us to urgent care. I've never seen him like that; it was so bad that we were both afraid James would be unable to attend the birth but lo! Modern medicine saves the day again! After a number of shots and pills and who knows what else, we both made it to the hospital and sent this selfie to our kids via my mom:

This c-section was MUCH better in almost every way than my other two! Surgery was scheduled for 11 am, so we got there at 9 am and got all hooked up and ready to go. When I got there I had even higher BP and more preeclampsia symptoms (I'll have you know that google wants to autocorrect "preeclampsia" to "Precambrian," so let's go with that and say I had Precambrian symptoms), so it was a good thing we had changed the date. I had been nervous about several things leading up to this based on past c sections - the biggest of which was the spinal block. It had been very painful and uncomfortable in the past and I had been told I was a "hard stick," so my spine is apparently not a birthing buddy of mine. I shared all this with my anesthesiologist and HOLY COW it was amazing. "And that's it!" he cheerfully announced after no time at all. It was over before it began. This was an option? I could have had non-traumatic experiences with this THE WHOLE TIME?? I need to find out what kind of cookies he likes and send him some. And then send some moldy ones to the people who did this for me before. (You think I'm kidding, but you're only partially correct.)

Then James came in, the curtain went up (ha! literally! because nobody needs to see someone slice them open with a scalpel, thank you) and things got started. They held up a mirror at the crucial moment, and for the first time ever, I got to see my child be born. The doctor tried to lift him up still inside the amniotic sac, but it popped before he got him out. But then on the second try, out Todd came! They lifted his head out with his face turned towards me, and he promptly peed all over me. (James assures me that fetal urine is sterile.) It was really a wonderful thing to see (the birth, not the peeing). If you get the chance to see your c section, I recommend you do it. They held the mirror so I could see my skin, a little blood, and a baby. I did not see my intestines or feel grossed out at all - my focus was a million percent on that tiny baby. I can still picture in my mind what it looked like when that veil parted and that face came into the world. He had hair!  Well, more than our other boys had been born with. And it was dark hair; maybe somebody will look like me instead of James! And he was pink and healthy and had the right number of toes and eyes and such. He weighed 8 lb 14 oz (I have to admit to a teensy bit of disappoinment - my other 2 were both over 9.5 lbs and I had hoped to break our family record, but hey - he was 2 weeks early so I rest safe knowing that he WOULD have broken records. He's just that kind of boy). I held him on my chest for a bit during surgery (this was huge to me - the other hospital I've delivered at wouldn't let me hold them for over an hour) until I started to feel a bit green around the gills from the surgery, whereupon James got to hold him. The thing that surprised me most was how WARM he was. I mean, all humans are about the same temperature but we haven't all just emerged from a hot tub set to that temperature, and he was so very warm and perfect.

But this delivery took twice as long as it was supposed to. As my doctor said, "That was not a fun c-section," and "your bladder was everywhere," and "you had a large amount of scar tissue from adhesions after your previous c-section," and "I would be happier if you didn't have any more kids." (He later amended that last one to "It would be more dangerous for you throughout the pregnancy and delivery because of all the scar tissue. Pray about it." Buuuut that's a whole different discussion.) Adhesions are growths that adhere to different organs after surgery and it took a very long time to cut them out of the way to get baby out, and a long time to remove them and reposition everything afterwards. By the very end, my spinal block was starting to wind down and things were getting painful. The doctors were trying a newer thing (doing a nerve block by basically inserting IVs intothe sides of my stomach wall to block pain) in an effort to not increase my BP (because using these might mean I didn't need the other pain meds which can negatively affect BP), but the blocks didn't work (when removing the IVs we found kinks in the tubes which is why).

Once we got to the recovery room, I was in significant pain. Because of the blocks, I didn't get some other pain killer that they typically give you with the spinal block because theoretically I wouldn't need it. I felt like a wimp, asking for pain medicine pretty much constantly for that hour. It hurt so badly I wasn't really aware of anything else. I remember when I finally felt a very small amount better because it was like my body was FINALLY able to think, "Oh yes, there's a child! Let's see it!" whereas before that, the pain was so great that I could think of literally nothing else. Everyone thought the blocks were working (they weren't) and so I didn't have all the other options immediately because they hadn't anticipated the pain. I have never hurt so much in my life. James sent the "we have a baby and all is well, sorry for the delay but the surgery was extra long," text to his family. I made him change the "mom and baby are well" bit to be more truthful: "The baby is well but Sariah is in a lot of pain." Yup. It felt very important to me in that moment that people know Sariah was not well, ha. But again, modern medicine swoops in and saves the day with other medicines.

[Edited to add something important that we found at delivery! I wanted to see the placenta (because they're awesome) and they found TWO true knots in the umbilical cord! That can be super dangerous and is likely part of why Todd kept failing the biophysical profiles.]

This was at the hospital where James works. I think he liked being Daddy instead of Doctor! We got to my hospital room after that and snuggled with the baby and tried out various names on him. James and I had not agreed before this (we never have before any of the kids) and had a list of possibly 7 name combinations; Todd Michael was not even a contender at that point! We like to see what they are like and let them sort of have a "say" in their name. Todd it was. Todd needed bilirubin lights, but he was my first baby to not have blood sugar problems! Wahoo! The next day, his doctors were able to do some tests on his stomach that they couldn't do in utero, and now at 3 months out, he is golden and good and nothing is wrong.

The boys see their brother for the first time. First family of five photo!

While in the hospital, my BP never really went back down. They sent me home with some BP meds, and even with that medicine, a week later my BP went up even more and I had some troubling symptoms. We went to the ER, and I was admitted for postpartum preeclampsia (which is a thing, apparently, because I had it). I spent another day in the hospital after that, but was sent home with a higher dose of BP medicine. At about 6 weeks postpartum my BP had finally stabilized. And now we're home and happy, we've emerged from that newborn haze, and life has become more normal. Todd is currently my favorite child because he smiles and snuggles, he lets me kiss his cheeks whenever I want, he's not a picky eater, and he doesn't whine or hit his brothers. Babies are the best! (Well, not at nighttime, but we can't always have it all!)

Henry holding Todd for the first time.

Being too little to hold Todd (especially with the cast), here is Calvin patting Todd for the first time!

Henry holding Todd on the first night home from the hospital.

Mom and Todd: home at last!

3 month old cutie!

Match Maker, Match Maker, make me a match!

This is pretty late in terms of when this actually happened, but better late than never, right?

The match is kind of weird. It's extremely stressful wondering if all the hard work of the past 4 years is going to pay off. It's exciting though because during the interview season you have all these people treating you like the prettiest girl at the dance so to speak. They're really convincing when they say that they'd be excited to have you in their program. The problem is that I've heard too many horror stories about very competitive candidates not matching after hearing from multiple program directors that they would match there and then not matching there. I felt that I was a competitive candidate, but I there's always a chance that you don't match. Like I said - the match is kind of weird.

But then Match Week came. Monday of that week we found out that I had indeed matched! It was such a relief. The process of finding out was pretty anti-climactic: I got an email that said congratulations and that I had matched. No other information. So we got to wait until Friday to find out where. Sariah and I were speculating like prospectors for gold or stock market investors. Back and forth we went, trying to figure out where we would be going for the next 3 years. One minute I would feel like we were going to match at a certain program and then within another 30 I was convinced that we were going someplace else. Round and round we went for 4 days until 1 pm on Friday.

I've been pretty nervous before, but holy wow, I don't know if I've ever been quite this nervous and excited. The last time I think my heart beat this intensely out of anxiety/anticipation/nerves was when I proposed to Sariah. I think Henry could sense that something was up too because Sariah and I were both jittery and constantly checking my phone in some vain hope that we would get the email earlier than expected. Finally, after hopelessly distracting ourselves with Netflix, I heard the email notification noise on my phone. It was from my school, congratulating me on matching into my #1 choice, the Memorial Family Medicine Residency in South Bend, IN.

I was pretty shocked, but a very happy shocked. When we were ranking programs, I felt fairly strongly that we weren't going to match there even though it was at the very top of our list. I was convinced that we were going to match to a program in Colorado. I was extremely impressed by this program when I interviewed with them. They care about the community and give back to it through various outreach programs. They are in front of changes that come to medicine. They value families highly. They treat everyone very respectfully. And most importantly, I felt like I was a good fit there. I was and still am extremely excited, honored, and humbled to have matched there.

I get to train to become a family doc and I couldn't be happier.

The Match - to answer everybody's FAQ about this year

There's a process of matching to a residency this year. We have explained it...a lot. If you wonder how doctors apply for residency (yes, all doctors must go through this process), here's how. Or if you've forgotten how it works and are too afraid to ask us again, here's how. Or if you just have never even known that such a thing occurred, but by golly, you're going to know now, here's how.

We are currently in the 4th year of med school. This is our life this year. It is one big ball of stress! I think this gif depicts us this fall:

I don't know how numbers are for other specialties, but we are applying to family medicine. For each program, there are, oh, 6-12 spots available for residents for next year. And on average, each program receives about 100-200 applications for those spots. Obviously, some of this is people just applying to every program, so it's not necessarily 200 people deeply interested in each of these programs, and there are lots of family med spots across the whole country. But it is a little daunting to see those numbers when you apply.

So without further ado, I give you...THE MATCH!!!

I'd like to add that you don't need to rank every place you interview at. If you hated the program, you can leave it out of your rank list and then there's no chance of you going there.

FYI - the match is NOT the same as audition rotations - those are your normal med school rotations (2 or 4 week chunks, usually) that you do at program where you hope to go instead of back at your med school core rotation site. You still have to apply to the programs you audition at, but they will usually (though not always) offer you an invitation if you audition there. It's just so you/them get to know each other. That's an audition rotation. It isn't an interview. It's just a rotation. Some specialties/programs value those higher than others.

Calvin Walter

Henry came 9 days late. Calvin came 9 days early. I have two children now! This is Calvin's story.
        
Calvin's cesarean section was scheduled for 9:30 am on a Thursday. It actually started at 11:20. It was so easy. The only scary part was the dip in my blood pressure following the spinal block. I was laying on the table as they prepped me for surgery, and I can't describe how it felt except for what I told the anesthetist: "I feel like my body wants to fall asleep but I don't want to!" (James says that's what it feels like to pass out, but I've never passed out and never felt that before. For a few minutes I thought I might not wake up if I fell asleep.) The nurse calmed me down and told me that if I fell asleep it was okay, they'd monitor my vitals and make sure I was alive and breathing. They gave me medicine, my blood pressure sorted itself out, and I felt just fine.

James has done some rotations where he's seen c-sections, so it was fun for him to watch over the curtain and tell me exactly what was happening. Just a few minutes later, with lots of pressure pushing on my belly, they pulled Calvin out! "Woah, he's a big one!" said the doctor. There was no pain, but boy oh boy, I could feel every little jostle! Then came my favorite moment: Calvin's first cry. It's magical. It's spiritual. It is unlike anything else in this whole world.  I couldn't see him, but suddenly his whole presence filled that room. Another soul had joined us. This boy I hadn't met but had yet known so well for all these months was among us. I cannot even describe it, but I hope everybody gets to experience that first cry of a new soul, with the veil so thin, at some point in their life. He cried and coughed and cried and then they brought him around to see us. They let me touch his face and look at him for a while before James carried him down to the nursery. Born at 11:26 am, Calvin was 22 inches long and weighed 9 lbs 5.1 oz. I was expecting a much smaller baby. The estimates had put him at about 8 lbs even. Imagine his weight if he hadn't been 9 days early!

While they started stitching me up, a lifelong dream of mine was fulfilled: I got to see the placenta! I realize that this isn't everyone's lifelong dream, but I hadn't seen one in real life before, and so I asked them to bring mine over so I could see. It was worth it.

I knew they'd sedate me a little while they finished stitching me up, and it had been one of the biggest fears I'd had when anticipating the surgery. I have always had anxiety in my life, and the weeks leading up to the cesarean were very (often almost paralyzingly) scary for me. The night before Calvin came, James gave me a wonderful blessing that brought me so much peace. This helped me for the whole procedure, and so at that moment I was no longer afraid I wouldn't wake up.

And the rest was easy. I woke up and we got to my room before the pediatrician was even done doing the preliminary exam of the baby! Then the baby came in. We'd planned on either Walter or Calvin for his first name, and we settled on Calvin with Walter as his middle name. He was beautiful! Nothing was wrong. All was well.

He had some issues at first - jaundice and low blood sugar. We had experience with low blood sugar, but it got pretty extreme with Calvin. We could not wake him up enough to nurse, and the supplemental sugar water and formula weren't cutting it. Finally, with threats of an IV looming on the horizon, he got enough of something or other to help raise his blood sugar. The jaundice was a different story. We had to put him under bilirubin lights for two days and he eventually required an IV anyway because the lights weren't helping enough. We stayed in the hospital an extra day for his jaundice. They even thought we'd have to stay another additional day, but we were surprised and delighted when they let us go home!

My own recovery was unexpectedly fast. I'm still recovering some (no marathons or mountain climbing for a few more weeks at least!) but overall I feel wonderful. Nursing has been surprisingly difficult, but I think we're starting to sort it out. Calvin has Henry in the palm of his hand. We are a happy little family!

1 week

3 weeks old, playing with the webcam on the computer

2 weeks old. My three boys!

Mom and both sons squashed-in-the-back-seat selfie. I love Henry's face here!

The love will come, the pain will fade

As this next baby comes closer to arriving, I've been thinking about Henry's birth and about pregnancy. It's weird, isn't it, how much and also how little about birth is in our control? Today I'm thinking about what happened with Henry and what I wish I'd known. These problems may seem silly to you, but they were very real to me at a very intense and emotional time, and I hope that perhaps someone who has these same emotions may read this one day and realize they're not alone.

Henry was born via an unscheduled c-section. It wasn't technically an emergency, but if we had continued with labor it would have turned into one. It was a necessary thing. We would both be dead without it. Several things about that surgery stand out to me. I had been in labor over 24 hours with zero progress (I hadn't even dilated to a 1). I had always thought hospitals had pain options for labor, but mine apparently had one shot you could use (it worked for 45 minutes) but only worked once...or an epidural. Which they would not give until you were dilated to a 4. No options were available to me that night for pain; none had been available for hours since that shot earlier. I was done. I was drained. So there I was at 10 pm being told that for a number of reasons I almost certainly needed a c-section. What's more, they could do that then (10 pm ish) or re-evaluate in the morning (8 am ish) to see how things had gone. I guess now I realize I could have asked for one at say, 3 am, but it was late and we have a small hospital with staff who wanted to head home for the night. I felt like my options were: have a c-section now OR ELSE have a c-section after 10 more hours of this awful labor with zero pain options. My water had broken, and things needed to happen to protect the baby. I felt like I didn't really have a choice.

They prepped me eerily fast - I wonder if maybe the nurses thought it was an emergency cesarean? I know they were worried about the baby. I gave my consent for the surgery and in less than 5 minutes I had been prepped and was in the OR. It happened so fast, and that speed scared me.

I remember walking into the OR and sitting on the table for my spinal block. I have never been so afraid in my entire life. I did NOT want a c-section; that's why I had avoided being induced for so long! That's why the baby was 9 days late! I did not want one; it wasn't supposed to happen for me. I had never even once considered that it might, and I had done nothing EVER to prepare or learn about it. I sat on the OR bed and knew that I had no choice - I had to have this. This was the only way this baby could come out. It was terrifying to feel completely out of control. During the procedure, they discovered that Henry's head was too big to come out naturally - his head was so big it couldn't even enter the TOP of my pelvis, not to mention exiting through the narrower side! I remember hearing my doctor say as he first removed the baby, "Wow, there was NO way he was ever going to come out on his own." I know that if this had been pre-cesarean days, he wouldn't have come out. He and I would have died. I know this. The surgery saved our lives (which is scary to think about - another year, another country, another place, and we'd be dead). Of course I am thankful for a healthy baby. My grief was unconnected to his health; I was grieving something of my own.

Labor and childbirth were (to me) things I was supposed to participate in. Something I myself did, that I was a part of. Instead, it was a fairly traumatic experience that happened TO me, instead of WITH me. I felt betrayed by my doctors, my body, my baby. Mostly by myself. I had failed at doing the one thing my body was meant to do. I couldn't even give birth. I wasn't a real woman.

And when it took Henry and I a very long time to bond (several weeks, maybe over a month), in my head I connected it to the surgery. It was my fault I couldn't bond with my baby because I couldn't give birth normally. I didn't know that sometimes it takes longer for people and that this is normal. You only hear the stories of instant bonding. They would hand him to me in the hospital and he was just a baby, not MY baby. Just somebody's child. The good-intentioned comments of "Oh don't you just love him so much??" stung. I didn't, not yet, and I was afraid I never would. That seemed like another failure of myself. The guilt slowed things down.

People would say, "He's healthy! Be grateful for that!" And of course I was!! Of course! I was grateful we didn't die, grateful he was here. But that didn't mean I couldn't mourn something I had lost that was so important to me.

It took just over a year for me to no longer be upset when I saw people's birth announcements. "My wife just gave birth at home in our kitchen! She was in labor for 45 minutes and pushed for 3 minutes, no meds needed! What a rockstar!!" As though time in labor, pushing, and pain tolerance were in anybody's control. I wanted to scream at those posts. "I was in labor for 26 hours! I never got to push! Somebody took away my power to use my legs and cut him out of me! I had no control!" The posts hurt and they obviously weren't trying to. You don't hear many "she's a rockstar!" stories about cesarean recoveries, and I am so glad I had so much love and support from James. It took a very long time to not be hurt by my own experience when I saw that of others. And I don't wish that that person's life had had more pain; I just wondered if maybe I had been more like them, mine would have been a different story. But I know it wouldn't. It just took me a while.

And so if you feel like you're alone in mourning this, or if you feel like all mothers must bond immediately, it's okay. You're not alone. It's normal to have these feelings. The love will come, I promise. Just hang on. The pain will fade. Just hang on.

Henry! Henry! TWICE! Because he's 2 now.

Some fun things about Henry lately now that he's two:

• Henry loves construction equipment and semi trucks. Trains are fine, but they're nothing compared to "BIG truck!" or "backhoe!" 
• Ever since we went on a walk the day after a big rainstorm, Henry has been very into dead worms. He'll see one on a walk (or really anything that resembles it, like a stain, trash, or part of a leaf) and say, "Oh! Is a dead worm!!" He'll then squat down to look at it and will giggle while he keeps telling us he's found a dead worm. We told him he can't pick them up, so now he refuses to walk close to them or on them and will back up and go around them in a big circle (staring at them the whole time) to avoid them. We can use that as a way to get him to move along, too, "Henry, I think I see a dead worm up here! Let's go look!" He likes live worms (and slugs) even better but you just don't see those as often.
• He's also very into rocks. He likes to carry them around, stack them up, and especially throw them in water. He found a dead worm near the door to our storage room in our carport and brought over all the rocks from the garden to put on the ledge of the door. I like to think he was making a little shrine.
• We went on a brief trip to Pennsylvania recently for a test James had to take there, and in sharing a room with Henry as he fell asleep, I learned that he whispers to himself after we lay him in bed before sleep takes over. We heard him across the room whispering, "Hot dog...fruit snacks....cheeeeeeeseburger..."
• He's a very chatty fellow! He's using more words in more ways every day and I love love love it. Some of my favorite funny things he says are: "No WAY!!" (especially when he says it calmly..."Do you want a cracker?" "No way!"); "Help you" (we ask him often, "can I help you with that?" so now when he asks for help, he just says, "Help you?"); "come here" (this means he wants to sit on our lap); "Hold you" (he wants me to hold him while STANDING - the STANDING part of this is important); and pretty much anytime he tries to say "frog" or "fork" because he sounds like we're teaching him definitely non-toddler words.
• He calls watermelon "water-minute" and it's adorable so we don't correct it. He also calls being upside down "up-oo-san!" Other than these he's actually pretty good with the correct words (minus the inability to say Rs and Ls correctly).
• A few days ago he was drinking an open cup of milk and deliberately threw it onto his high chair tray. I told him that wasn't very nice, cleaned up, and gave him what remained in the cup. He then deliberately threw it on the ground and while I was cleaning it up I said, "Aww, man..." and he started repeating that. "Aw man! Aw man!!" Then as I cleaned up the ground, I looked up at him and said, "Henry, you're in trouble!" He said gleefully, "Twouble!!" I said, "What is this mess!?" He peered over his chair to the ground and said, "Is a oopsie!!"
• A couple of months ago, our cashier at the dollar store was a teenager with long hair and a scraggly looking beard. As we were leaving, Henry yelled, "Bye bye, Jesus!!" About 5 minutes later I realized I'd left my wallet in the store, so we called the store and he found it and kept it safe for us until we got back. Sounds like Henry can spot the good ones!
• Like any good two year old, he likes holding whatever I'm holding, always touching me in some way, making faces, and discussing farts. He will always rat you out if you fart, either in the moment or later. "Dadda, is a fart!" Even hours later. "Dadda, Momma fart!!" Thanks, kid.
• He has always been a big supporter of belly buttons. He likes to pull up our shirts to poke them. As my belly gets bigger with this pregnancy, he sort of understands that there's something about my tummy that involves a baby, and it's probably the belly button. I'll say, "Give the baby a hug!" and he'll pull up my shirt and rest his head on my belly button. Some pregnant women get the outie belly button as their stomachs get bigger, but my belly button just expands into a sort of cavern. Glamorous, right? A few weeks ago when Henry was looking at my belly button, he pointed to it and yelled, "Momma! A tunnel!"
• He loves being outside and he loves playing in water. He has some cups and toys for the bath and will happily spend 15 minutes playing in the bathroom sink with them. Taking a bath, eating watermelon, or eating fruit snacks are our number one bribes around here.
• When we found out I was pregnant but hadn't told Henry yet, he did something remarkable. I was laying on the couch and he came up to me, poked my belly, and said, "Baby!" And ran off to go play. I don't know how he knew there was a baby at all, or that it was in my stomach right then, but he knew!

Semester's End for a Teacher...the last one for a while (*sniff*)

Last week was final exam time for my students. I often like to write posts about the last week of classes, and this one is a little bittersweet for me because it'll be my last one on-campus for a while. I'm still going to do some online classes, but since the baby is due right when school starts in the fall, both recovery/newborn/childcare means I won't be physically in a classroom for a while, which is heartbreaking. Also I feel like I never mentioned on the blog or Facebook that our next baby is another boy, but we've told people we're around, so I feel like it's too late at this point and would be awkward to do a whole thing about it, so...anyway,in case you were wondering, boy!

As the end of the semester approaches, I find these memes to be very true:

Students say:

 

Teachers say:


The last day of class (or really the last few weeks, for that matter, and especially not one hour AFTER your final!!) is NOT the time to ask for extra credit. It's not the time to decide to drop the class and be annoyed when that turns out to be difficult. It's not the time for many things. I finally printed out this one (above) and put it on my office door. Maybe students coming to ask for extra credit saw it and it scared them off...! James says I should've made this (below) into a poster instead to scare students off, but life isn't Harry Potter (yet) so I don't get moving pictures on my office door:

One student's plea for extra credit did make me laugh, though, and fortunately it turned out to be easily fixed and not an extra credit problem after all: "No I have an 89?! I need an A worse than I need air to breathe. I will literally do anything for 1 more point. I will even babysit your child. Please Jesus."

I had wonderful moments and students this semester. My favorite moment, though, did not happen in the last week; it happened at the last test before the final, so about a month ago. I always have a few bonus questions at the end of each test, and due to spring break and weather/cancelled class, this particular anatomy test ended up being very, very long and difficult. Poor class. I'm sorry. But this girl's answers on the bonus section cracked me up:

 

And now for my end-of-year comments that I love so much and sometimes share on the blog...also brought to you by test bonus questions. I love my students and will miss being with them. These are from both my anatomy and intro to biology classes. Enjoy! (My comments are in parentheses.)

Question: What is your favorite part of the brain and why? (we learned about all the different small parts, like the pons, arbor vitae, medulla oblongata, hypothalamus, etc., so this is what I expected them to say. I should have been more specific!)

Answer: The left side. I think I am left brained. 

Answer: The ponds. (It cracks me up that all this time they thought the "pons" was "ponds")

Question: What was your least favorite topic we covered in anatomy this semester and why?

Answer: I didn't like that one chart we did to see if we carried the same genes as our parents. (We have done many charts in many labs. I love how ONE piece of paper in this whole semester is the worst part of the semester. I'll have to go back and review it...sounds pretty bad!)

Answer: Learning the domain kingdom phylum class order family genus species because it took me forever (I love how they wrote out all these words for this!)

Answer: Cells, I don't enjoy learning about cells!!!

Question: What was your favorite topic of the semester and why?

Answer: The brain because I could almost name parts of the brain that I couldn't do before. (Almost??) 

Answer: Review games before tests!

Answer: I believe they all had the same academic value.

Question: A picture of the rotator cuff muscles in the shoulder (it's pretty obviously the shoulder) and it asks what one specific muscle in the image is called. 

Answer: Leg muscle 

Answer: A hamstring

Answer: The humerus

Question: A picture of a vertebra and it asks them to label two specific parts of it.

Answer: they point to the spinous process (the part that sticks out the back) and label it "axon" (which is part of the nervous system, and NOT one of the two things I asked them to label)

Answer:  another person labelled the spinous process as the coccyx (that's your tailbone. It is not found in your vertebrae, and is also not one of the two locations I asked them to identify.)

Question: List the first three cranial nerves, their number in roman numerals, and indicate whether they are sensory/motor/both.

Answer: Well I know the 12th nerve might be the hypoglossal...