#Tagit wolters kluwer free

My resident triumphantly announced that the fallopian tube was normal and free of tumor, preempting any questions from me on the tubes’ role in ovarian cancer pathogenesis. We went ahead with the train of slides, and my hand reached out to the teeny–weeny fallopian tube.

However, alas, their hideous make up and disordered attendance could not escape even my somber vision. The malignant cells were huddled together, within the ovarian stroma, trying to look innocuous to my prying eyes. Ah, I did find it finally, much to my chagrin, for I had hoped that a “negative” this time would uplift my spirits. It was a patient with ovarian cancer, post-chemotherapy, and my eyes were searching for any residual villainous cells among the native ovary cells. He read the history, as if reciting a verse from the biblical Vedas. My eyes were peeled on the eye pieces, but my mind was wandering in some deep reverie.Īn enthusiastic and sharply contrasted resident doctor was reading out the history and clinical details of the case, the slide of which was currently perched on my stage. I love my job on most days, but today, the Monday blues were giving me jitters. Clinical colleagues would often remark, “You have got the power to make or break a life with your brains on a microscopic level.” That thought always makes me feel like Spiderman, “With great power comes great responsibility.” Spiderman in a white coat. The challenge of christening cancers is veritable for a pathologist. I was back to my routine of peering and trying to deduce what that tumor looked like under the microscope. After a refreshing weekend of bright yellow, orange, and sunny, the blues had hit the brain hard on this weekday.

Tagit wolters kluwer