I've been meaning to update all day, but I had to wait until I was a little bit drunk. I got a little bit drunk, and then I had another Brooklyn Eagle and a B-52, so pardon the typos and syntactical errors.
Today was a big day for me. I took my Pathology final. It was my final final. Ever. As of right now, I am a Junior Medical Student. Which means I have to be responsible. I'm not sure how to feel about this. On one hand, this is the end of my life as a student. Starting July 1st, I will be doing rotations in the hospital. I will be responsible for patients, taking histories, developing differential diagnoses, and administering medications. On the other hand, I will never stop being a student. In the words of Michaelangelo (the painter, not the Ninja Turtle), Ancora Imparo; I am still learning. This isn't even the end of my test-taking career. I have the boards coming up on June 14th, and I'll have shelf exams after most of my rotations. Then I take Step II of the boards, then certification boards, then recertification, et cetera.
But there's something different about today. One year of preschool, five years of elementary school, three years of middle school, four years of high school, four years of undergraduate, and two years of basic medical science. That's nineteen years of school. And it all ended today. A lot of the other medical students updated their Facebook status to say "halfway to M.D." I don't see it that way. My status says I'm 23/25ths of the way to my M.D. I didn't start becoming a doctor two years ago. I've been preparing for this my whole life. I'm ready to be Dr. Brillo.
So why am I so scared of July 1st?
17 May 2008
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1 comment:
I think the only people who can look into their future and not be scared, are those who have already resigned to the idea that they've accomplished all they can.
People tell you all your life that your future is entirely up to you, but that seems to suggest that our past doesn't shape who we are. If you're willing to acknowledge that you've been working toward this your whole life, it just saves your patients the trouble of having to worry about it for you.
You go into the office knowing who you are, and how you've come to be here. But they're not going to know anything about how you got to where you are. All they see is the person they're ready to trust with their lives. Sure, that's all. And I hope that thought scares the ever loving shit out of you, because facing tomorrow with some fear about what might happen is the only assurance we have that we're still sane enough to be doing our jobs.
Congratulations, it's well deserved.
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