I finished my first year of medical school. It is day four of the so called mystical summer break that graces medical students right after their first year. A time to lift our heads above the water to gasp for the air we were desperately longing for these the past couple of weeks. Medical school. It is an odd existence. Honorable, but odd and lonely and I don’t think I have the words yet to describe it to someone who isn’t going through it or watching someone go through it. In this time of dedicated rest, I find my mind luring with swarming anxious thoughts that I should be doing something greater. As if my dedication and life sacrifice to this art is not enough. Yet, every one of my mothers and fathers in this field gaze at me encouraging (or warning) me know to enjoy it, because this is the last time. The last one. But I feel human today. I woke up, exercised, made breakfast, and watched the sun great me through my apartment windows, welcoming me back home to myself.
This year went by fast. I remember being excited to step on campus, my dad dropping me off to orientation as he has done for every important orientation I have ever had in my life. The day was sunny and hot. The flowers seemed pinker, the sky was bluer. I had worked so hard to be there and nothing was going to stop me from doing well in my first year. But now that it is over, and now I have space to breathe, grieve, and love on myself for everything I’ve done in this past year. I can mourn the honorable life of my cadaver, or Miss Rosie as my team and I call her, that helped me learn more than I ever could without her. I made her first cut and her final, and I do take her gift lightly. I unapologetically exhale without catching my breath because I forgot to finish my flashcards, answer emails, or study for a quiz. In this moment, I feel like I am getting myself back, slowly. If you are not careful, medical school can feel like a life stolen. So when the prospective students come to me with eager eyes and fiery souls, like I had not too long ago (and still do from time to time), I sigh with a heaviness from wisdom of experience and return their excitement with a soft smile remembering myself in their shoes. If done correctly, you start medical school thinking it is about you, and you end your first year with a heart humbled and a mind bowed to the art.
I knew it was going to be hard, medical school, but this experience is indescribable. I have had so many beautiful moments with my classmates. From tears to embraces, my cohort is filled with what I truly believe to be some of the best people in this world. But it is so easy for medicine to be all encompassing. It is easy for your mind to be rewired into thinking that this world, the world of medicine, is the only world that matters. And to be honest, maybe it should at this point in my career. I don’t know. I’m just a year into the game with about 30 more to go so I am still learning. Nevertheless, I just pray that in whatever world I am in, I am honest, kind, and can still feel the rhythm of words within me.
To my loves, and my worlds, thank you for keeping me grounded this year. Here is to a slow summer of grace, honesty, and peace. Here is to the last one…for now.
