You know, you’re in school for so long, for so many years when your papers or writings or assignments are only going to be read by your teacher. They’ll be skimmed or perused, commented on with red ink, and given a grade, but that’s the end of them. You get the paper back, maybe hold onto it for a bit, put it on the fridge for the family to see your gold star, but it ends there.

So sometimes I forget that my notes really do truly matter now. They’re no longer just going to be turned in to a professor or TA. They’re actually going to be used, and depended upon, for a number of people who are going to see a patient. They’re going to read my history and physical examination report, and then my assessment, and based on those, get a sense of what the patient’s problems are. It’s really different knowing that my notes matter. And by different I mean, “feeling like I’m contributing to the patient’s care, and also being kind of freaked out if I miss something or get something wrong.” I guess that’s why there’s interns, residents, and attendings double-checking me.

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