The attending neurologist and about a thousand hundred ten residents just descended on my room. Remember that feeling in 1L when you knew it was your turn to get called on and it was with that professor? Imagine that feeling, except that that professor also hates lawyers. And you only have about 30 seconds to experience all the terror before the questions start. “Ms. EH, can you describe your migraine regimen?” Dude. I didn’t even know I had a migraine regimen.
(In reality, it wasn’t that bad. I made some jokes. Even though I am wearing my Target boyfriend t-shirt and some lounge pants, I don’t think I looked too grungy, especially since I left my VIP quarters for a walk earlier today, and the rest of the floor appears to be made up of elderly people with really bad problems. Still, could someone please tell me when doctors suddenly became “younger than me and all of my younger siblings?” It’s really disconcerting.)