There are days I'm not sure I'm really going to make it. There are days I wonder if I'm doing the right thing. There are days I question my priorities. There are days I'm lost in my own world of stress and exams and studying.
And then there are days that remind me of things.
Some days remind me of the suffering of others out there that I might someday be able to help. Some days remind me of the humanity I see in everyone around me. Some days remind me of the limitless possibility when you put in the time and effort. Some days remind me to stop and smell the roses.
These things remind me of how grateful I am to be here.
It was innocuous enough. Just a simple little conversation with some friends in the dorm. Nothing too special. Except today I let my guard down. Today I admitted I wasn't feeling all that well. Today I stopped trying to be and do everything and I just WAS. It's hard sometimes to break out of that mold we find ourselves in as pre-meds, where everyone you look at seems to do things better than you. I've had plenty of times in the past where I have envied others or wondered why I couldn't have what they have or do what they do. In some ways it made me more self-reliant, self-contained. I didn't want to reveal weaknesses or foibles. I didn't want to let anyone in for fear they might see the things I didn't want to look at.
You come to a point where you finally realize that everyone does something better than you do. And it isn't such a bad thing. After all, it's a lot of pressure being the smartest guy in the room (or at least pretending to be). It's a lot of work trying to be a perfectionist. It's a lot of work worrying about everybody else in the whole world and how you just can't seem to measure up to them.
And today I realized it just wasn't worth it to me anymore. I can be as competitive as I want and never be satisfied. Or, I can realize that the people who truly love me will love me as much for the things I do wrong as the things I do right. They will love my failures and my attempts just as much as I love theirs.
There is no such thing as perfection. And even if there were, it'd be a pretty lonely place.
(Many thanks to H, R, L, and S for loving me just the way I am. I'm truly indebted.)
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Sunday, October 21, 2007
The Cardinal Sin...
... I have committed it.
I have suddenly realized just how much time has passed since my last post. Credit for this should go equally to the ridiculous amount of metabolism information I'm currently trying to stuff into my head and the way that the passage of time is forever changed by the course of medical school. Every day seems like one of the longest of my life, and yet somehow almost 2 months of school has flown by. This whole time-relativity thing is tricky. There seems to be a convincing dearth of time for the things that I really want/need to do, but the lecture by the guy who mumbles and can speak in the longest sentences humanly possible drags on at an unbelievably slow pace.
In other words - I'm sorry for neglecting you, dear blog.
Life has gotten considerably more stressful in the last several weeks. It could be the material (biochemistry/metabolism, with its infinitely detailed mechanisms that make me think I am going insane when I confuse glycolysis, glycogenesis, and glycogenolysis). It could be my impressive procrastination. Or, it could be the fact that psychologically I have hit the proverbial "wall." In looking around at my classmates, it seems that many of us have encountered just such a fate. We as a bunch are looking more bedraggled, more worn-down, less bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Even those consummate optimists - the ones who show up to the 8AM lecture every day - are starting to fade. They still show up for the early morning lecture, but occasionally a few minutes late and looking decidedly unenthused. And, just the other day, I caught one of them napping discreetly.
What is happening to us?
The sheer volume of details and the realization that all of this knowledge will soon leave our short-term memories due to lack of use has outweighed the novelty of being in medical school. In fact, for most of us it rarely seems like what we thought medical school would be. Sure we have an occasional clinical day here or a shadowing opportunity there, but the bulk of our lives right now is spent elbow-deep in textbooks and class notes. I'm sure this is by no means a new occurrence. Probably countless classes of students ahead of us have hit this wall head-on. And now, here we are, too.
In the last week alone, I have personally witnessed several teary emotional breakdowns with critical questions: "Why can't I do this?" "Is this really all it's cracked up to be?" "What am I doing here?"
Now, this could be due to the generally high-strung nature of medical students in general. Or, it could be a symptom of the kind of lifestyle we have to lead in this education. In truth, it could be good training for the rest of our lives when on-call hours, life-and-death situations, and ethical dilemmas far outweigh any possible angst over learning the pentose phosphate pathway.
In either case, despite what people might say (you know the ones...), this is hard work. No amount of preparation in college can honestly make you ready to deal with the onslaught of personal dilemmas and the feeling of being sub-par once you're here. There is literally more work to be done than humanly possible.
For those of us who like to be super-human, that is a difficult pill to swallow.
I have suddenly realized just how much time has passed since my last post. Credit for this should go equally to the ridiculous amount of metabolism information I'm currently trying to stuff into my head and the way that the passage of time is forever changed by the course of medical school. Every day seems like one of the longest of my life, and yet somehow almost 2 months of school has flown by. This whole time-relativity thing is tricky. There seems to be a convincing dearth of time for the things that I really want/need to do, but the lecture by the guy who mumbles and can speak in the longest sentences humanly possible drags on at an unbelievably slow pace.
In other words - I'm sorry for neglecting you, dear blog.
Life has gotten considerably more stressful in the last several weeks. It could be the material (biochemistry/metabolism, with its infinitely detailed mechanisms that make me think I am going insane when I confuse glycolysis, glycogenesis, and glycogenolysis). It could be my impressive procrastination. Or, it could be the fact that psychologically I have hit the proverbial "wall." In looking around at my classmates, it seems that many of us have encountered just such a fate. We as a bunch are looking more bedraggled, more worn-down, less bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Even those consummate optimists - the ones who show up to the 8AM lecture every day - are starting to fade. They still show up for the early morning lecture, but occasionally a few minutes late and looking decidedly unenthused. And, just the other day, I caught one of them napping discreetly.
What is happening to us?
The sheer volume of details and the realization that all of this knowledge will soon leave our short-term memories due to lack of use has outweighed the novelty of being in medical school. In fact, for most of us it rarely seems like what we thought medical school would be. Sure we have an occasional clinical day here or a shadowing opportunity there, but the bulk of our lives right now is spent elbow-deep in textbooks and class notes. I'm sure this is by no means a new occurrence. Probably countless classes of students ahead of us have hit this wall head-on. And now, here we are, too.
In the last week alone, I have personally witnessed several teary emotional breakdowns with critical questions: "Why can't I do this?" "Is this really all it's cracked up to be?" "What am I doing here?"
Now, this could be due to the generally high-strung nature of medical students in general. Or, it could be a symptom of the kind of lifestyle we have to lead in this education. In truth, it could be good training for the rest of our lives when on-call hours, life-and-death situations, and ethical dilemmas far outweigh any possible angst over learning the pentose phosphate pathway.
In either case, despite what people might say (you know the ones...), this is hard work. No amount of preparation in college can honestly make you ready to deal with the onslaught of personal dilemmas and the feeling of being sub-par once you're here. There is literally more work to be done than humanly possible.
For those of us who like to be super-human, that is a difficult pill to swallow.
Friday, October 5, 2007
Ah Yes, Medical School: If Darwin Only Knew...
Ah Yes, Medical School: If Darwin Only Knew...
This is a ridiculously thorough description of the question-askers I have come to know and love in the first 6 weeks of medical school. (And by "love," of course I really mean "hate.") It's nice to know that these kind of people are ubiquitous and are really as much a part of medical school as anatomy cadavers.
In fairness, however, these poor, misguided individuals certainly do provide plenty of material for everyone else to bond over. In one class, we've developed a drinking game for how many times one particularly lost soul grabs her head and says "I'm confused." In another class, we secretly pine for the particularly rigid instructor who will put a certain someone in his place. We achieved this recently when his incessant questioning of her data led her to retort: "Well, when you've read 8,000 Cell Biology journal articles, you get a good sense of it."
Life just wouldn't be the same without these grimace-inducers. And, really, would we want it to be?
This is a ridiculously thorough description of the question-askers I have come to know and love in the first 6 weeks of medical school. (And by "love," of course I really mean "hate.") It's nice to know that these kind of people are ubiquitous and are really as much a part of medical school as anatomy cadavers.
In fairness, however, these poor, misguided individuals certainly do provide plenty of material for everyone else to bond over. In one class, we've developed a drinking game for how many times one particularly lost soul grabs her head and says "I'm confused." In another class, we secretly pine for the particularly rigid instructor who will put a certain someone in his place. We achieved this recently when his incessant questioning of her data led her to retort: "Well, when you've read 8,000 Cell Biology journal articles, you get a good sense of it."
Life just wouldn't be the same without these grimace-inducers. And, really, would we want it to be?
Essential Medicines
Got back this week from a conference on finding new ways to ensure the third world gets the drugs it needs at a price it can afford. Essentially, the plan is to encourage universities to negotiate into their licensing agreements on new drug compounds a clause that allows for generics to be made in poor countries. I find this to be an interesting idea and certainly valid for plenty of diseases that are rampant in third world countries but limited in the United States. However, it does seem disturbing to me that someone with HIV in Africa potentially has access to cheap anti-retroviral drugs and someone in the US does not. How do we decide who deserves our efforts the most? The cynical part of me wonders if the allure of working for drugs in the third world overshadows some of the mundane real-life dilemmas of poor people without access to healthcare in our own country. Who do we have a duty to? Who do we ultimately value the most? Even though we are taught to regard each person's life with the utmost respect and to protect all human life, realistically it isn't always possible to do so. What happens when we have to choose where to place our time, energy, and resources?
Regardless of the ethical implications, the background on this movement is fascinating. It has really picked up steam in the last year or so with mentions in prominent journals and papers, the signing of an important mission statement by notable public health superstars, and increasing progress being made at individual universities.
Check it out:
www.essentialmedicine.org
Excellent Boston Globe article from Oct. 3
Regardless of the ethical implications, the background on this movement is fascinating. It has really picked up steam in the last year or so with mentions in prominent journals and papers, the signing of an important mission statement by notable public health superstars, and increasing progress being made at individual universities.
Check it out:
www.essentialmedicine.org
Excellent Boston Globe article from Oct. 3
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