Research and Recall
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
I keep getting homework. It's almost like being back at primary school and learning things all over again.
See, back when I was 9, each week at school we'd have an Alphabet Quiz. For 26 weeks of the year, we'd get a quiz with twenty questions on it, all with the answers having the same first letter. It was, in truth, the birth of my love for trivia, and thirst for 'intellectual' competition. After six or seven weeks, the school Principal would read out a selected 25 questions over the PA, and we'd sit, like the good 8-11 year-olds we were, and answer them. At the end of each year, the pupil from each class with the highest marks would enter into the school Mastermind competition, a ruthless event in front of the entire school, parents, grandparents and neighbours' third cousins. It was an annual battle to the end.
Back in the day, there was no internet or other font of all knowledge from which the answers could be plucked. In order to find all the answers, one needed to be proficient in the use of encyclopediae, dictionaries and maps. First the research, then the recall.
Evidently, I have vivid memories of the thrill of 'recall', but, somehow, deep down in my conscious, I'm beginning to remember that feeling of looking something up and really, well, really feeling that I can use it. If only for the briefest of moments to impress a consultant, or to make a heroic and life-saving decision in later years.
Later on, that primary school trivia really helped me out. At Pharm school I'd hit the pub on a Monday night for trivia, along with five others. In our most successful year, we raked in nearly $1000 worth of bar-tab; at $100 for first, not a terrible haul, really. A few times we won four weeks in a row, which would result in a group shout because, well, crates were only about thirty-five bucks and there's no way six light-weights should drink ten of those. So we'd have a 'free' party at the pub. They'd usually give us free fish and chips before 9pm, too. Not a bad reward for knowing that the R. Hadlee's county team was Nottinghamshire, or that AC/DC's original vocalist was Dave Evans.
This week, the 'trivia' seems just that bit more important. I think. Maybe it's just another form of pissing contest, or some gladiatorial rite of passage. Either way, it's appealing to me, because I'm studying longer and more effectively than the last two years.
Except the bit where you have to keep your gob shut when know the answer. Like at handover when a consultant says to the registrar, "How would you test for Renal Artery Stenosis?", and you're screaming (on the inside) "Oh, oh, oh, pick me... It's like, totally, like, a Renal perfusion study with captopril. I know because we did it last year, and..." but the room is silent. And so are you.
Because deep down, even though you know that answer, not only do you not know the answers to the next six questions, even if you did you wouldn't say, because if you're just slightly wrong you're a little dweeb. And, if you get it word-perfect correct you just made your reg look like a moron in front of his boss, his buddies and the people marking your exam. Bad option, tiger.
So instead, you listen, you learn. And if you don't know it, by gum, you look it up in one of those three books, be it Davidsons', Harrisons', Talley or Bates. And you learn; Research and Recall. It's that easy. Homework time.
See, back when I was 9, each week at school we'd have an Alphabet Quiz. For 26 weeks of the year, we'd get a quiz with twenty questions on it, all with the answers having the same first letter. It was, in truth, the birth of my love for trivia, and thirst for 'intellectual' competition. After six or seven weeks, the school Principal would read out a selected 25 questions over the PA, and we'd sit, like the good 8-11 year-olds we were, and answer them. At the end of each year, the pupil from each class with the highest marks would enter into the school Mastermind competition, a ruthless event in front of the entire school, parents, grandparents and neighbours' third cousins. It was an annual battle to the end.
Back in the day, there was no internet or other font of all knowledge from which the answers could be plucked. In order to find all the answers, one needed to be proficient in the use of encyclopediae, dictionaries and maps. First the research, then the recall.
Evidently, I have vivid memories of the thrill of 'recall', but, somehow, deep down in my conscious, I'm beginning to remember that feeling of looking something up and really, well, really feeling that I can use it. If only for the briefest of moments to impress a consultant, or to make a heroic and life-saving decision in later years.
Later on, that primary school trivia really helped me out. At Pharm school I'd hit the pub on a Monday night for trivia, along with five others. In our most successful year, we raked in nearly $1000 worth of bar-tab; at $100 for first, not a terrible haul, really. A few times we won four weeks in a row, which would result in a group shout because, well, crates were only about thirty-five bucks and there's no way six light-weights should drink ten of those. So we'd have a 'free' party at the pub. They'd usually give us free fish and chips before 9pm, too. Not a bad reward for knowing that the R. Hadlee's county team was Nottinghamshire, or that AC/DC's original vocalist was Dave Evans.
This week, the 'trivia' seems just that bit more important. I think. Maybe it's just another form of pissing contest, or some gladiatorial rite of passage. Either way, it's appealing to me, because I'm studying longer and more effectively than the last two years.
Except the bit where you have to keep your gob shut when know the answer. Like at handover when a consultant says to the registrar, "How would you test for Renal Artery Stenosis?", and you're screaming (on the inside) "Oh, oh, oh, pick me... It's like, totally, like, a Renal perfusion study with captopril. I know because we did it last year, and..." but the room is silent. And so are you.
Because deep down, even though you know that answer, not only do you not know the answers to the next six questions, even if you did you wouldn't say, because if you're just slightly wrong you're a little dweeb. And, if you get it word-perfect correct you just made your reg look like a moron in front of his boss, his buddies and the people marking your exam. Bad option, tiger.
So instead, you listen, you learn. And if you don't know it, by gum, you look it up in one of those three books, be it Davidsons', Harrisons', Talley or Bates. And you learn; Research and Recall. It's that easy. Homework time.
