MED SCHOOL: A Paradox

Whenever people ask my age, a follow-up question would always be "so where do you work?". And when I answer them that I'm still a student, there would be a slight disappointment in their face and wondering how come I didn't graduate on time. When I tell them that I am taking up medicine, their face would glow with delight and somehow remain in a state of awe until the end of the conversation.

There would always be a certain prestige or wow factor whenever people knew you are taking up medicine. But the stories behind those two letters at the end of your name somehow remains to be a mystery. Well, here's the truth...

It's not always rainbows and butterflies in pursuing this path. What a self-contradicting fact that in the journey of wanting to save lives, you have to kill a part of yourself to fit that rigid pavement of becoming a doctor.

Before going to med school, you feel so much eagerness and enthusiasm in your heart because you feel like you are a step closer to your dream. But in reality, you're not even 10% there. The first few months feels like ages and you would notice how slowly you lose connection with your family, friends, and even yourself. Friday nights would turn into a stay-in night instead of the usual partying-til-dawn routine. You reserve your weekends to study but somehow 48 hours doesn't suffice to finish all your readings. An hour spent doing anything not school-related would always leave you feeling guilty. And when the test results come, it's never enough. No matter how hard you try, go on sleepless nights, over-caffeinating your body just to get every information in your head, you question yourself, "Where did I go wrong? How come I can't seem to be enough." And when you come crawling to your friends and family with all your rants, they hit you hard with a question, "You wanted that right? Then stop complaining." Extra challenging on my part is not coming from a family of doctors and being the first in the family to pursue a post-grad course. They got used to seeing my achievements since high school, and belittle what I feel when I vent out about med school.

The real problems I face are not really confined within the walls of the classroom but rather, the conflicts I can't seem to compartmentalize every damn day. I got so used to being the strong one that people rely on whenever they feel down. And when the time came that I was already falling apart, I can't seem to pick up and fix myself from that downfall just in time to face another morning of that same vicious routine.

Sometimes, there's a voice within my head telling me to quit, and that I would live that life I've always wanted and enjoyed it while I'm young. But then again, what keeps me going?

The things that I have encountered during my pre-med years as a nursing student, and as a neonatal ICU nurse has fueled my passion in ways I can't even imagine.

Those times, I witnessed how my patients would give their all to smile despite the pain they are enduring whenever you enter the room, those parents that could not express how thankful they are for having you to take care of their day-old baby in the ICU, those tears you witnessed behind that glass window whenever parents see their babies for the first time, and how your hands played as an instrument of God in touching people's lives. I could always do so much, and it is for them that I dream to become a doctor and at the same time makes it harder for me to quit every time.

If you're going to want that title, you can't simply want it. You live for it. You breathe it. You tell yourself repeatedly that you would be it and that every challenge is not something that should break you because you have to be made of steel to be a lifesaver. Yes, you have to kill a part of yourself not out of defeat, but for you to grow. You have to give up the time you spend on social media, your hobbies, and anticipate more sacrifices because the job you chose is a vocation. You don't work on an 8-5 pm basis and tell yourself "I'm off duty" and turn down patients that show up after your supposedly 'working hours'. You should be able to share not just hours, but your life too, for your patients.

Intelligence will move you an inch, but to finish the run, you have to have within you that unfaltering desire that would keep you running no matter how bumpy the road might get. It doesn't get easier, you just have to get better. It is not how hard you fall, but how bravely you get up after being wounded. Call it insane, but what makes me feel alive more than any adrenaline rush is the lives I save and the souls I touch. 

This passion fuels my veins and serves as my sense of purpose.