All that Glitters

So I went and played on studentdoctor.net today and found the thread for the incoming class of M1's this fall. Class of 2013. I started reading the threads of these unsuspecting children, and I started remembering what it was like when I was in their shoes almost 2 years ago. One talked about not being able to stop smiling since they turned in their deposit and registration form. Just having that unbreakable happiness and glitter in the eye. Being so happy that you finally got to medical school and being in awe of the experiences and possibilities ahead...I wish I still felt that way. By no means do I loathe medical school. Actually, this has been the worst experience of my life. The only thing that makes me believe that I belong here is the fact that I love every miserable minute. As I read the posts of these new medical students, I wondered where my spark went. I definitely don't have it anymore. I guess somewhere between 1,000 powerpoints thrown at me daily and the emotional and mental beatings I receive from faculty and especially testing, I have become cynical and jaded. Somewhere in the daily battles and clawing my way through these past 2 years, I somewhere abandoned the glitter and the spark has been lost.

Now school has just become something I have to do, something I have to go through the motions to just get to the next step. I have to pass my classes in order to make it to the next year. I have to just make it to Step 1 so I can get on the floors and do what I went to med school to do. If I had known then what I know now, I still would have gone through medical school. I would have gone in more willing to let things go and pick my battles sooner than later. It took many missteps before I realized that if class didn't benefit me, then I shouldn't go. If reading the book took longer than making a 12 course meal, then don't read it. I am still in the process of growing and learning that my grades do not measure my level of knowledge and competence like they once did. I am learning that numbers are not a scale and competition between my classmates and me is more trouble than it's worth. It took me almost 2 full years to realize that just making it through this masochistic and sadistic process is more than a lot of people can and ever will accomplish.

I do feel the spark whenever I put on that short white coat that blares to everyone in the hospital "HI, I know nothing and quite possibly can kill you". But that coat symbolizes what I want for my life. To heal. To teach. To doctor. It is such a priviledge to be trusted with someone's life. I don't take my training lightly nor do I take the trust patients have in me lightly. Even if I have no idea what I'm doing, these people have presented most vulnerable side. They share secrets of sex, drugs, and life with me like they would tell me what their hair color is. That is a heavy burden, and I am constantly reminded of that fact.

The glitter comes when I think of the possibility of my future career. What specialty will I choose? Will I be general medicine, or will I do surgery? What if I go off the beaten path and do anesthesia or radiology? Even though I have had some exposure and pre-conceived notions of specialties available, I am still very open to the possibilities. There are so many out there. I will approach M3 with an open mind. I will pick the specialty which gives me that glitter in my eye and the spark within my soul. The one that helps me pop out of bed excited about what that new day will bring.

So throughout the darkness that envelops us throughout our first two years, at least there is the promise of once again feeling giddy, giggly, and glittery. The one specialty where we just fit. Probably the first time we "fit" anywhere since starting med school. I know that will be true for myself.

For the class of 2013: You all will lose that spark. By christmas you'll wonder what the hell you were thinking, and what's so great about this doctor thing. Now neck deep and seeing Step 1 rushing at me as that train supplying the light at the end of the tunnel, I constantly wonder what the hell I am thinking and what's so great about this doctor thing. So keep pushing, keep going, keep surviving. We began med school with a spark and a glitter, and we will end med school with a spark and a glitter. The rest between is just the journey to find it after we lost it.

What makes me glitter today? NO MORE MICRO TESTS!