My first week as a 4th year medical student is almost over and I am sleep-deprived, exhausted, hungry and confused. Everything is new to me now that I started my clinical practice. This first week is basically 25 lectures covering a whole clinical examinations book. The 25 lectures are spaced out over 5 days where each lecture takes a little over an hour. The lectures are given by mean ass surgeons and doctors who basically don’t give a fuck whether we get the information or not. It’s a whole new experience. Not to mention that I’m now forced to dress formally to the hospital, shirt and tie and what not. Basically the reason I haven’t blogged in a week is because I wake up at 6:30 a.m. and shower, then go to school and attend lectures till 4 p.m. I write lecture notes at the speed of 1,000 words a second just to be able to catch up with the idiot who treats us like we’re actually physicians and require us to know every disease in the world. Fourth year is a busy, busy year with a huge amount of stress and responsibility. Not to mention my oh-so-kind-heart that additionally accepted an assistant research position with a few fellow medical students, where we’ve been working for 3 days on a Breast Cancer survey. Running around all over Irbid getting women over 40 to answer a questionnaire that takes almost 30 minutes to complete. I go home every night at almost 10 p.m, once even at 12:30 a.m. So basically, wake up at 6 and sleep at 11 pm with nothing in between but constant running around and cramming my brain with all sorts of physical examinations I’m going to perform on real patients this sunday throughout.
The good thing though is, that through this hassle, I have little time to reflect on things that once kept me up all night. Sure, I have some free time but I spend it over with the guys to keep my head far, far away. As I write now, I reflect.
I know how much my posts have been depressing lately, and because of that I shall adopt the same thing I do while in class. When one of my depressing subjects come to mind, I just concentrate even more on what I’m doing (listening and taking down notes in that case) and allow my reflections to lie in my pages.
“I dream of a day…”
I wrote a whole lot more than the above quote, which is just the first 5 words of a paragraph I now flip into my yellow pages. I flip it back with my stained sheets, my letters ink-blotted by tears. I flip it back with my heart, my memories. I flip it back…
It’s impossible for me to fake a mood, be someone I’m not or fake a feeling I feel. It’s impossible, be it through my actions, my writings or my face. When I’m sad you can see it, and when I smile at you or make you laugh when I’m pissed off it’s because I flip my yellow pages again, and revisit them when I want to. I am who I am. I’ll never be a character I’m not, live a life I promised never to live, leave my morals or code behind. I flip it all back now…
Don’t be someone you’re not. Don’t live a lie. Don’t pretend that things are okay just to get through the day, because at the end of that day you’re going to end up alone, regretting that phone call you didn’t make, that offer you didn’t take, that message you didn’t relate. Wake up.