Wow. I was just reminded of this blog I started and which lasted only a week. At that time, I had a lot of energy to write lengthy descriptions of useless things. 2 years into it, I can now cut straight to the point. Dental school is a hard, grueling cause of more stress than you can ever imagine & which never ceases. But that testing of oneself is a profound poetic feat, and culminates in becoming Dr. Andrea Kirschner. It's a deep, quiet joy that I cannot wait to attain.

Day 2

Bright and early I awoke, determined to not err in an way. Morning walk with the dog and onto campus by 7:30 am. A full & friendly day began, where all 69 dental students confronted nervousness and the unknown to sit amongst their peers in one meeting hall for the majority of the day. The College of Dental Medicine faculty joined us in the morning, and introduced their background, alma matter, favorite sports team, and occasionally cheered when the student's offered similar sports affinities. The faculty generally seems to be 30-50 years old, with one or two a bit sprightly older. Nearly all the professors have been teaching via this program for a few months - a year+, as my dental degree is Brand.New at this school. I found the faculty excited, innovative, and seemingly hand-plucked from other schools, including Harvard and Berkeley. I believe a lot of other dental schools have faculty that's about as old as the facility itself, and the teaching becomes entrenched in ways of the past. Not so, my school! Aside from age, the faculty is diverse, representing the Slavs, Mexicans, Germans, and Taiwanese. One unique faculty member compared dentistry to vampirism, as both revel in blood.

Were I not so tired already, I would make this far more interesting. As is, it feels like nothing but a log of the inconsequentials. The professors belabored our dress code, as dentistry is a knowledge-imparting profession, and we must look the part of the revered, both now in our 4 years of academia, and later in our practices. "No jegggings and sheer tunics" was officially proclaimed. I'm quite proud one of our doctors is hip enough to cite jeggings as a current fashion movement.

The school fed us 3 meals, gave us hourly breaks, and then had some "ice-breaking" games. We walked around with bingo cards that someone had cleverly written things like, "find someone who can sing an entire Justin Beiber song", or "who has met the President", or "been on a talk show". Thankfully, I have shook Bill Clinton's hand, AND been on Late Night with Ethan Kirschner live at the local public access tv channel when I was in 4th grade, so I filled my name in more than one old Bingo square. We met our MP's, which at the time I didn't even know what it meant. Small groups ventured on photo scavenger hunts with our MP advisor.

That is one thing I'll state about this school. They throw so many acronyms out, I'd need a few teams worth of baseball players to catch all the unknown phrases. MP stands for Managing Partner, and I know which faculty member mine is, but she is not my advisor, nor my dean, and I do know she has an office in our patient clinic. What she does as a MP though, I have no clue.

Today I also came across ECDI, COMP, MGA, HEC, HPC, CODMOAA, and that's all I can list off in a mere 8 seconds. I can assure you you don't need to know what they stand for, but you point be known, medical schools do enjoy acronyms.

I forgot to mention I sat by two lovely folks today. One, a gentleman whose dad is a prosthedontist and plans on continuing in that field. I couldn't even tell you what the word meant before today, but apparently it's the field of dentistry which takes in all the botched jobs by other dentists and fixes them. He says they get the tough stuff. Read, moneyyyyy. The other pal was a lass whom I actually met during my interview back in February. I thought she was cool then, and she's still got a good attitude now. She spent the last 2 years living out of a hotel room in the NW and driving a van with 3 other folks around rural areas offering dental care to children. Pretty compassionate. Also, good fashion.

The makeup of my other students is diverse. Whether or not there is more men or women I couldn't accurately judge, but I would say the ethnic majority is Asian. There are a few kids who were born and raised in Iran, one from Mexico, 2!!! from Wisconsin aside from me, one from Houston, a few from Seattle, a Floridian, a Georgian, and the rest seem to generally have graduated under the UC school system, whether it be Irvine, San Diego, LA, or other cities that I couldn't even place on a map. I would like to note the events of Day 3, but alas, I have just printed out 58 pages of Introduction to Dental Anatomy, and I am fighting with tiredness before even starting the first wave of studying. Luckily, this material is not covered until Monday, when the real schooling begins. I'll let you decide what kind of "schooling" I might be inferring.

Day 1

Schedule for the Day

Go to bookstore and buy dental school software.
Get fitted for my Magnificaiton Loupe.

The first event may occur between 8-5pm, and the second 10-2pm.  Fitful nights of sleep had plagued me recently, and I used the loose Monday schedule to hit snooze from 7am until 9 am.  A relaxing morning at home then entertained me, including a phone chat with my sweet Dad, a bowl of Trix with some Olympians, and a walk with the doggy.  I dressed in my Sunday best, and checked my email before leaving the house.  

Oh, snap!  According to an email timed 9:20am, the building, room, and purpose of the Loupe fitting had changed to something different, and it was now offered from 10 am-noon.  The time on my cellphone read 12:23 pm.  Curse words quickly fell from my mouth, and I hurried out the door, after taking down the names and phone numbers of the doctors I was supposed to meet that morning.

On campus, which is 1.4 miles from my house, I arrived, still cussing and now sweating.  At least, I knew I had learned my first... Ok, stop the presses.  

I just felt my first LA earthquake.  And my dog Mr. Wizard slept through it!  I am sitting on my bed typing, and I feel the bed sway slightly, as I stare at my wooden floor wondering if it is swaying too.  It lasted about 3 seconds.  Now I sigh with relief, as I'm not looking to end my dental career before it even starts by falling into the pits of San Andreas.  No pun in the name, too.

Returning to the story, I phone my advisor, head to the College of Optometry's Eye Care Center, learn the two doctors who spoke that morning have already taken the rest of the day off, and then speak personally with one of the two, who grants me asylum from my absence.  I don't loudly proclaim my frustrations, but now I understand the importance of checking email every morning before leaving the house.

I go to the bookstore, risk getting my bank card declined, and purchase computer software which is worth about 1.5 of my monthly rent.  Drive to Starbucks, sorry, preferred independent coffeeshops, you don't exist in my zip code, and get out of the car, to promptly smear the bottom of my dress shoe in white nasty gum.  Nothing about this day any more can surprise me.  Oh, this is already the second pair of dress shoes I've put on my feet as the last hour has passed, as the first pair from Target lasted approximately15 minutes, before the skin cracked and broke on my heels, leaving red, blistered soreness.  

In a surprisingly good mood for the circumstances, I go into Starbucks, order a small coffee, get out my laptop, ready to play with my brand new first ever laptop toy, and wait, there's not a free table to sit at.  In fact, the shop is laid out like NY-style railroad apartment, with 5 tables lining only one wall of the shop.  So, with still a lilt in my step, I take a seat in some smoldering summer heat, simply determined to just wait until a table is abandoned.  It happens, and the day progresses.  I attend a happy hour with 6-8 other dental students, and we talk about hometowns, pets, games, and relocating. The day turns into night, and my house is a balmy 85 degrees at my bedtime, around 9 or 10 pm.  

Day 0

This is the day before dental school actually began.  There are not many noteworthy things that occurred today, except for 2 things.  One, tears pummeled my cheeks as I arrived to my vehicle after a weekend away.  Thankfully, I had an old favorite cd in the disc player, and I used the familiar lyrics of Phish from their Rift album to vent my emotion.  Loudly, I did sing.  Secondly, I determined I must buy more pants for my school week starting in the morning.  Due to the former, I walked through Target in a mild fog, and efficiently grabbed dress pants and an alarm clock.  I also picked up some brown flats, the most expensive pair Tar-zhay offered.  This would end up being a mistake.  I will explain via Day 1.

The Time Before the Sun Rose

Before I may begin with the first day of dental school, I must explain a few things. One, I am not from here. By here, I do mean California, 30 miles east of Los Angeles, where this story now takes place. My birthplace is Madison, Wisconsin. My formative years were spent happily in Stevens Point, Wisconsin. College took me to Minneaplis, Minnesota, Budapest, Hungary, St. Petersburg, Russia, and culminated with my degree from University of Wisconsin at Madison. Then, I departed the snowy Midwest for brighter days in Austin, Texas, home to live concerts every night of the week. After 2 exciting years, I slowed the pace down just a bit in the largest city Texan city closest to Mexico - San Antonio. The University of Texas-San Antonio honorably taught me to open my mind to science, and with the help of a few memorable professors, including Dr. Sadeghi, I applied to not one, not two, but more than a handful of dental schools all over the United States. My dream, you see, was to be a dentist.

It is not an easy journey to learn to be a doctor at my age. This year alone I have three dear friends getting married. While those around me are discussing 30 year mortgages and career promotions, I am debating the effort in exacting a vast debt, the likes of which is almost too incoherent to mention. Let's just say the president of the United State's annual salary is less than what I will be paying after the interest accrues on my four years of loans. The internet is an amazing place, and for the full number, I leave you to your wizardry. Aside from the financial strain, there is a real emotional pull on remolding your life from what you know into what you don't.

Leaving my rewarding job at Blue Star Ointment, with my mentor, Ms. Dawson, was difficult. Similarly, breaking bread for a final time with friends I had brought into my heart was no pleasant task. Then my heart got broken by the conclusion of a love I thought could withstand the distance. Going to dental school isn't easy, and this is all before I've even opened Grey's Anatomy for my first class, and that is cadaver dissection.