It’s 2013. The plan is to graduate Class of 2015. This is just sinking in.
It’s crazy to think of how fast everything is going. Not just in terms of the years flying by, but also the fact that just last week I had no idea how to manage or examine a neonate, for example. Now, I’m managing triplets.
This med school stuff is insane.
I’d thought that it would be weird getting back into the swing of things, starting the year in hospital instead of in class one week into the new year. But it’s all strangely familiar. Although we’ve never done this rotation before, I find myself doing certain things automatically. I’m less stressed than I was last year two weeks into most rotations. It almost scares me that I helped resus a 28 week prem last week. WHO AM I TO BE RESUSCITATING FRAGILE BABIES. I JUST GOT HERE.
This next year and a half is all that stands between me and student internship. I’m so excited, I’m so anxious! How do people not get excited when they are so close to the grand finale!
It’s 2013 and I plan to graduate Class of 2015. But plans can grow awry.
That’s something I learned last week. I didn’t want to write about it because I wasn’t sure what I’d say. It isn’t mine to be sad about. And yet I’ve been fighting back tears. One if my clinical partners failed a core theory module and has to repeat that module and all her third year rotations. All. And I know it’s probably going to make her a stronger person, a better doctor, etc. etc. but I can’t help but feel really bummed about it.
We started out together, we pulled each other through first year. We’ve been clinical partners since second year. She’s a really good friend, outside the med school stuff. This is someone I care about, who shared some of the same hopes and dreams with me. And she’ll still reach them, she’ll still graduate and become a doctor and no-one will really care how long it took her. But I’m sad. I’m sad that she’s sad. I’m sad that our clinical group feels barren and incomplete. I’m sad that I take certain things for granted, like hard work birthing success.
I’m sad that she has to spend another year on this lifeless, stressful campus and that we won’t necessarily be around to make fun of it with her.
I’m sad that I don’t really know how to be there for her.
It’s 2013 and I plan to graduate in 2015. But so did she. So, I’m excited. But I feel a little bad about being excited because she can’t share it.
On a less morbid note, doctors are really short. I don’t know why I never noticed this before, since it’s hardly likely that they shrank or I grew much since October. But it’s a surreal feeling, standing next to a newly qualified doctor who is shorter than you. That’s probably the last thing that should be inspiring me, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t.