One of my classmates in nursing school was perpetually scrolling on her phone during class. She seemed to have an internal alarm that would tell her it was time to seem like she was paying attention. She would suddenly sit up straight, drag her finger down the textbook page and raise her hand. “Is it true that…” whatever fact her hand happened to land on.
One day, the instructor was quizzing us on some of the material. When the teacher called on her, she didn’t know the answer. The teacher gave her a hard time, telling her it was old material and she should know it by now. She retorted with, “What do I look like, Frankenstein? How am I supposed to know that?” The whole class sat in stunned silence trying to figure out what she meant by that. Maybe because Frankenstein was a doctor? Before any of us could figure out why she chose that example, a classmate piped up. “You mean Einstein.”
Whether she passed the licensing exam, I’ll never know. But she did pass the class, which means she could be out there, right now, roaming the halls of our hospitals.