Kelly and I are sitting next to each other, each in our own cubicle. Our tests are different, our questions are different. After 9 weeks of 12-hour-a-day studying, we’re ready for everything and anything.
Kelly starts his block and sees an easy one:
Q: Which of the following amino acids is involved in the synthesis of Dopamine?
That’s easy. Phenylalanine to Tyrosine to L-Dopa to Dopamine to Norepinephrine to Epinephrine. He knows the name of each enzyme, the cofactors necessary, what symptoms you would see with a block at every step, and where the Cu2+ comes in to play. He prepared for questions this stupid. This is a joke. He looks down at his options:
A through J.
“Topher, I came so close to just tapping you on the shoulder and making you look at that question. I didn’t really care if they kicked me out and I forfeited my test, it was just that ridiculous. What do they want from me? Answer me that. What do they want from me?”
“I think they want you to fail, Kelly.”
“It’s not even clinically relevant. That’s what kills me. Even if I knew that, it doesn’t make me a better doctor.”
“You’re wrong, man. You just killed a patient.”