Braving Radiology

When I was younger (and arguably far more stupid) I used to relish being asked to ride the "challenging" horses at the dude ranch I worked at. I felt that this request was inspired by my exceptional horsemanship skills and riding ability. It was only recently that I realized the request was made because I was young, stupid and willing - it was simply that the person making the request didn't want it to be his/her head to hit the ground with a resounding crack.
Vet school forces one to be brave in that not-sexy-at-all sort of a way. I have the privilege of looking like a complete idiot at least once a day.
Just this week on radiology a group of us third years were restraining an older, very sick dog for an ultrasound. She was very brave and lay on her back without complaint.
The two radiologists stared intently at the screen covered in black and white static. Of course no image became apparent to me. I think I would have more luck understanding the insides of this particular dog if I tried reading her tea-leaves, or tarot cards.
All of a sudden I recognize something shaped like a wagon wheel.
Ah ha!
I decide to wow the doctors with my incisive acumen.
"That's the kidney, right?" I pipe up.
Now of course if I had been particularly clever I would have discerned that the ultrasound probe was nowhere near either of the kidneys and was rather right on the mid-line of the dogs abdomen.
"No, that's not the kidney - that's the stomach. The kidney is more like a watermelon cut in half"

Nailed it!

Earlier in the week we were reviewing radiographs (x-rays) in preparation for our junior radiology exam.
"What's wrong with this picture?" the head radiology technician asks us.
"Overexposed?"
"Too much kvp?"
"Not enough MaS"
"Underdeveloped?"
She looks at us sadly. Finally one brainy member of our group offers "It's a double exposure, right. I mean there shouldn't be a heart in the abdomen?"
ah - yes...... there shouldn't be.
So feeling stupid comes along with the learning curve. I hate looking stupid - but it appears there is no way out of this program without feeling like a dunce.
There is always someone smarter than me, and I imagine what I don't know could fill an ocean but I'll just keep showing up and pray that wagon wheels and watermelon half's will all fall into place one day.
Until then, I will keep cracking my head.