Real live doctor day 1- orientation begins, any post-medical school self esteem remaining instantly quashed

Day 1 of internship began with protective mask fit-testing. It unfolds as follows:

1. The examiner stares intently at your chin, mutters disapprovingly, yells across the room to the other fit tester, what is up with all these tiny chinned people today?, then angrily digs through a bin and produces a comically child-sized bright pink mask shaped like a duck bill.

2. The mask is affixed to your head with a ceremonious, if unnecessary, snap of the rubber band around your neck.

3. Examiner stares at you for ten minutes straight as you breathe heavily, wiggle your head around, and read a passage entitled "the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow" from a late 1800s diction textbook two times.

4. A machine shoots tiny fake-bacteria particles into your air and a sensor detects how many of these sneak in under the mask, around your pitifully undersized chin, and into your respiratory system.

5. If you're the unfortunate young lady sitting next to me, the examiner writes on your form (which does indeed sit in your file for-ever): "failed fit testing due to unacceptable facial structure."

Really.

And this, lucky me, is my assigned mask for the next five years. Image courtesy google images "Kimberly clark Respirator mask."