10 Months Later...

Ten months after the first day of med school... and I feel as if there's nothing much to show for it. And I'm in the Top 5 in our batch in the last Block so I hate to think how the others are faring.

Seriously... I'm not bragging or anything. It's just that I know good grades doesn't make you a good doctor. The only reason I'm hanging in the Top 5 seems to be because of my amazing psychic skills when it comes to answering multiple choice questions. That's where they get the bulk of our grades.

But when you're in the hospital, you don't get multiple choice questions. And the thing is, there are few things more dangerous than an ignorant doctor.

So I have every reason to be moderately anxious when upon self-evaluation, I realized how little I know. And I'm not even exaggerating. I wish I were. It feels a bit overwhelming... the huge amount of information I don't know and am supposed to know, I mean.

So this Christmas break, I will seriously try to read more... read in advance even. And by summer break, I plan to go over everything. It's quite a task, even without my tendency towards procrastination.

But if I get through this, I will thank myself later.

Hmmm

There's a serious glitch in my blog settings. My "View Blog" button gives me a view of what my blog was before I made some changes and started paying attention to it.

It's annoying. I'm wondering if disuse had something to do with it. It's like it's permanently frozen to whatever state I had left it in.

I don't want to have to start all over again. It's a hassle. I have too many blogs as it is.

Tidbits

One of my New Year resolutions would be to start seriously blogging. Not that I have readers. I write mostly for myself. It's therapeutic. Plus, it's an outlet for my overly-active, overly-wild, creative mind. Hey, if I didn't feel the calling of medicine too strongly, I'd be a novelist by now. (I wish.)

So I have a lot of catching up to do. A lot of things have happened since I created this blog eons ago. (How did time fly so fast?) I don't think I'd be able to write them all down. But here are a couple of tidbits. Some I'll leave like that. Others I'll elaborate later on.

1. It's Christmas Break. I hope some people are going to relax and enjoy it. Because I don't plan on doing so. (I hope I don't sound diabolical... *evil grin*)

2. Currently at Block 5, Module 2, the Respiratory System.

3. Block 4 was a bad dream.

4. The last module was a nightmare. I failed all three module quizzes. All in a row. (Ughh!) I have issues with mediocrity right now.

5. I fell two notches down in the Top 10 list in our batch. I am not happy about it. Currently at Spot Number 5. Mediocrity sucks.

6. At times, I wonder if I'm at the right school. But considering the fact that I wouldn't have met my new sort-of bestfriend and gotten extra close to a former close friend now sort-of-bestfriend, I'm glad I did. Somehow, I'll have to make up for all the handicaps I'm currently encountering.

7. Sleep is my own worst enemy.

8. I wonder if it's part of the curriculum to place medical students in really embarassing situations. Maybe it's a sort of test... You know... Along the veins of "What doesn't kill you make you stronger?"...

9. In lieu to #9, I am forever grateful to all those people who gamely allowed themselves to go through the fire of humiliation along with me. That took a lot of guts, believe me.

10. *sigh* You'd think, in a new environment, my lovelife would improve. Not a chance. It must be something genetic... like inheriting no pheromones at all. And being surrounded with a lot of good-looking to stunningly handsome medical students doesn't help at all. Oh, well. I'm moderately beautiful and intelligent. I can't have it all, right. *grin* I have to elaborate more on this later.

So that's all for now.

.xoxo.

*anonymous*

It's ironic how most of the time, one can only truly be oneself when hidden behind the mask of anonymity. And it's ironic how most of the time, I'd rather reveal my innermost thoughts to complete strangers rather than my dearest friends.

But isn't that how it is? At times, it's best to protect the ones we love from who we really are... what we really think...

I've been feeling rather restricted about the things I really wanted to write about in my other blog. (Note: I keep a lot of moderately functional and non-functional blogs.)

Of course, there are things I'd love to share with my friends... my recent medschool escapades, my latest blooper, bits and pieces of wisdom gathered here and there, etc etc. But there are things I'd rather not let them know and managing who gets to read what can be quite a hassle.

So this is what this blog is for. It's for the things I need to get out of my system but would rather not let my friends know.

In a way, it seems sad that I can only show my true self to strangers who offer no judgment... no condemnation... and who'd forget about me the next minute (that is, granting that somebody actually stumbles into this blog...) rather than the ones who truly care.

But then, that's the way it is... At least for now...

*fallible*

Fact of life: Everyone makes mistakes.

Everyone.

Everyday.

And the sooner we accept this fundamental principle of human nature, the easier it is for us to wake up in the morning and face life head-on.

However, while “to err is human”, not everyone can afford to make mistakes. And when it’s human lives you hold in your hands, you cannot dare to indulge in the luxury of second chances simply because there isn’t another one.
I missed 26 items out of 120 in my last written exam.

Carelessness accounted for some of them. Ignorance was the culprit for most.

I cannot afford to be careless! And all the more can I not afford to be ignorant!

Twenty six items may not seem like a lot. Yes, I sound like the perfect example of the classic perfectionist. Instead of being grateful for even passing such a tough exam, here I am whining. Yes, I’m seeing a half-empty glass instead of one which is half-full.

But when you’re neck-to-neck in the competition for the top spots, the slightest mistake could be your downfall. (And those twenty-six mistakes will most definitely pull me down.)

And when your job description demands perfection, every mistake counts.

Every.


If I could react this way to twenty six items in a written exam, how would I react when a mistake would not cost me a few points but a life?

Somebody’s husband… somebody’s wife… somebody’s child… somebody’s mother… or father or brother or sister or friend…

I wonder if I would ever be strong enough to carry such a heavy burden. I wonder if I could even get up in the morning with such guilt weighing heavily in my spirit.

For someday… sooner or later… there will be blood in my hands. This is a fact of life that I… and everybody who wishes to take this path… have got to face.
Frustration at my fallibility. This will perhaps be one of the most recurring themes of my life.

And that’s why I need a God. For I can never be anything but fallible. And He can never be anything but Infallible.

*when i grow up*

Remember preschool? Those were the times when we were miniature versions of ourselves. We were a whole lot cuter then, too.

“And what do you want to be when you grow up?”

Does this sound familiar?

Innocence made us believe we could conquer the world. We could be anyone we wanted to be. Teacher… lawyer… nurse… businessman… scientist… priest… seaman… astronaut…

There was no stopping our young minds. There was no limit to what we could be… when we grow up.

Young as I was, I already knew what I wanted to be. To everyone who asked this all-important question, I had only one answer.

“When I grow up, I want to be a doctor.”


Fast forward. Technically, I have now grown up.

I’ve had four graduations since then (preschool, grade school, high school, college). And I look back with fondness at that little girl who refused to be anything else but a doctor.

And I wonder… What in the world made me want to become a doctor?

Did environmental factors come into play? My mother, a nurse, often took me along with her to the hospital. I practically spent my pre-preschool days playing with tongue depressors, stethoscopes and discarded medicine boxes. But then again, I could just as easily have wanted to become a nurse. The fact is, I didn’t. It never entered my young head.

Is it genetic? There isn’t a single doctor in my direct lineage. Mine was a family of farmers and fishermen. I did have second and third degree relatives who ventured into the field, though.

I have no answer.


I’m well into my fourth month of medicine.

And I’m loving every single minute of it.

Yes, even the sleepless nights and the sleep-inducing lectures and the killing of innocent frogs. And while like perhaps every single medical student, I literally sleep on my books, there’s no satiety to my craving for knowledge. I am fascinated by the workings of the human body. I stand in awe at the majesty and beauty of it all.

I’m living my dream. Not everyone is given the chance. It’s both humbling and uplifting.

I’m a long, long, long way off from becoming a doctor. And the truth is, it will perhaps be an even longer time before I’m all grown up in every sense of the word.

But God has woven this dream into the very fabric of my soul. And that little girl who was dead set into becoming a doctor is just as stubborn now as she was then. There’s simply no stopping her

~The Night Before It All Started~

** I wrote this about two months ago, the night before it all started...



It still feels a little unreal.

Tomorrow, I’m going to start Med School. Do I need to reiterate how excited I am?

In a way, I’ve dreamed of this day for so long. Sort of. The day I would finally start training to become a doctor... I’m finally taking the first step towards the fulfillment of my childhood dream.

I’m actually going to become a doctor.

How great is that???

Tonight, let me just be naïve. Let me be just like a child on the eve of her birthday.

Reality will hit soon enough. I know that there will come a time when waking up in the morning will simply be sheer torture. The time will come when I’ll be swamped with books, pull out an all-nighters, intoxicate myself with chocolate drink (I’m not a coffee person), worry myself to death over patients and procedures, and be humiliated by residents, attendings, nurses and student nurses.

While everyone else I used to know would be getting married, married or are having kids, I’ll be having dinner dates with my books and spend Valentines at the hospital.

And I’ll wonder why I chose to forsake a ludicrous career for one which is as ruthless and thankless as Medicine.

Oh well.

Let tomorrow take care of itself.

For now, I’m a wide-eyed child… awaiting tomorrow’s presents.

~My Isaac~

It was actually a very close fight between taking up Medicine or embracing the religious life. And while I can smile about it now, those were really dark moments of despair and indecision for me.

Long story.

It was an issue of obedience to the will of the Father. At the bottom of it all was a genuine desire to give my all to Jesus with nothing holding me back.

Gnawing at the back of my mind and my heart was anguish at being unwilling to give up something I valued so much. Medicine was my Isaac. And I was in tears because I didn’t want to give him up in spite of the “signs” (or what I thought were signs).

I could still vividly remember being alone in the chapel at the middle of the night, curled up in front of the cross and crying my heart out. I just had a talk with one of the Sisters and talking with her brought out anew my love for the Lord. At that point, I loved Him so much that it hurts. But at the same time, just the thought of embracing their kind of life felt like such a dead end.

Instead of the freedom that their way of life brings, I could only feel walls closing up on me.

I woke up the next day wondering why I felt so gloomy. And then the events of last night came back to mind and I was washed afresh with misery. I honestly felt like a prisoner facing a life-sentence.

In one moment of despair, on my knees in front of the cross, I earnestly asked the Lord. “Is it medicine or the religious life?”

I cut my Bible and the pages opened to Sirach 38.

“Hold the physician in honor, for he is essential to you, and God it was who established his profession. From God, the doctor has his wisdom, and the king provides for his sustenance. His knowledge makes the doctor distinguished, and gives him access to those in authority… He endows men with knowledge to glory in his mighty works, through which the doctor eases pain and the druggist prepares his medicines; Thus the creative work continues without cease in its efficacy on the surface of the earth.”

The issue didn’t end there however. There was still much soul searching and conversations with people so much wiser than am I.

I placed my future at His feet and decided to let go of my Isaac. I held on instead to the truth that my God knew what was best for me. But it wasn’t a one-time thing however… letting go of Isaac, I mean. It was about three years of tug-of-war.

But in the end, with His leading, the pieces started falling into place…

My parents were incredibly supportive. (They knew I wanted to become a doctor since I was a kid so they were more or less prepared for it.) I did so badly during the NMAT (National Medical Admission Test) that I considered it a sign if I didn’t score above 50. I got 88 and I just knew it was pure grace. I graduated cum laude and was thus instantly entitled to a 50% discount at my school of choice. We’re not rich but I noticed there’s always money available for my tuition fee, books, uniform, board and lodging, allowance and even two new pairs of jeans.

My life is blessed beyond belief and now I’m pretty sure that I’m doing the will of my Father. It all doesn’t end with an MD at the end of my name, however.

At this point, I am still open for wherever the Father leads me… even if it should, in the end, be a religious calling. It is simply not possible to give myself fully to the Lord when I am keeping something back for myself.

It is only through sacrifice that my Isaac would be restored to me.

Surfing, Medicine & Jesus

“I’ve come to learn that the thing you fall in love with is the same thing that’s going to beat the living daylights out of you. The journey will hit you hard. You will have to lose it all. You will wonder why you haven’t already given up. You’ll wonder what could possibly be worth the effort.”

A wise young man penned those words. He was talking about surfing. And in a much deeper sense, “regeneration”… losing ourselves to find Life… to find Jesus.

While surfing is one of the parallels of his Christian faith, mine is Medicine. (I have never ever in my life, ridden on a surfboard… even one that’s not floating on water.)

But the essence remains the same.

I’ve come to realize that my Christian life is not in a box separate to that of Medicine. Both are intertwined, each thread woven into each other forming that perfect tapestry which is called my life.

This blog is a chronicle of my journey through Medicine… a journey through my Life.

Written here will be my struggles, my joys, my downfalls and my triumph as I walk in the footsteps of no other than the Healer himself.

I’m not walking into Medicine blindly. I have no glorious illusions of being some sort of demi-god placed in a pedestal, gifted with the healing touch which would cure body and soul. I have no glorious illusions of riches and a life of comfort.

Medicine is ruthless. It can take you to the darkest pit of humanity, cut you off from the things and the people you love, steal from you the best years of your life and drain you of your very essence until you’re left empty, wondering if it’s worth it all.

“But then. That single moment of glory comes. You stand up, and you are alive again. This is the essence of “regeneration”. We lose ourselves for that single glorious moment that confirms there is still hope for us.”