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Growing Up Medical School Premed

Long Overdue!

Woah! I sorta fell off of social media unintentionally. Things got crazy the last month of the semester.
But I have made it! We made it. I have finished my first semester of medical school. I had so much help and support. Seriously could not have made it without my classmates. We fought through so much information and talked and argued and learned so much together. I walked out of my last final and seriously did not know what to do. So I waited around for everyone else to finish. I didn’t want to go home. I wanted to relish in the moment with those people who got me through. Compared to college where I had my bags packed to head home straight from my last test and didn’t look back; it’s quite a change.
There’s so many feelings surrounding this semester, I don’t even know how to sum it up. I know what I sacrificed personally to make it, but I’m realizing the sacrifices my family has made as well as a result of my being in medical school. Most noticeably, I felt like I wasn’t as available to them. Not that any of my sisters or parents are dependent on me, but I was only able to talk on my schedule, my terms. And I heard the majority about everyone’s lives from bits and pieces talking to my mom. I know it required more effort on their part to stay in touch with me and all my conversations were word vomit about studying and the fast food, sleep deprived delirium I spent my last 5 months in. I know my nieces went without their Aunt Andi a lot more, but they handled it like understanding little pros and I tear up thinking about how gracious they were to me when I missed their school program and studied over Thanksgiving instead of spending time with them.
Basically, a lot went in. More than I expected. More than I thought was possible. I could have done better on my part in so many ways. Still, I had way more support than I would have imagined I had available to me. So thanks to everyone who kept up with me and supported me! I appreciate it!
Over and over during the semester, I would think about how much time I spent in undergrad researching on AMCAS and AAMC and other websites, reading about what medical school is like. I still had no idea. So few people know that “medical school” is for future doctors (not nurses, thank you!). But, no one knows the application process and time it takes to become a doctor better than pre meds, so when in that position, you feel like you have a pretty good grasp on how much time you will spend studying. I remember dreading the vast amounts of studying before me, but seeing it as a necessary evil. I now realize, there’s just no way to accurately assess how much time you spend studying before you’re in the thick of it. Even living with my parents- they saw my hours, they knew my comings and goings; I still don’t feel like they fully understand how much time I studied and how hard it was. nobody understood it, except for my classmates- and we were all delirious!
I had a blast, though. I came in to my own. I grew up. I grew personally, professionally, relationally, and intellectually. I stretched myself physically and mentally. I flipped out, broke down, and gave up at times. There’s nothing light or breezy about going into medicine, and its not just the workload while you’re in training. The world is full of healthcare problems I haven’t yet had the time to fully consider yet and I still feel like sometimes I don’t make the cut to be an excellent doctor that can affect change in the healthcare world. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Walking out of the last final was the most proud of myself I’ve ever been. I felt light and free and yet ready to get back to it, because I know there is still much to learn. I was ready to celebrate with my class and revel in our tiny step forward on a long road ahead.
I’m still sighing big breaths of relief and I’m already well into soaking in the time to myself to be silent or watch tv or run, to color, change clothes just because, lay on the floor, think, watch TED talks, and eat whenever I want, throw my anatomy papers to the wind, take a bath and whatever else the heck I want to do without any “I should be studying” guilt whatsoever. I feel a little like I deserve some “me” time.
Class of 2018, we are 1/8th done! Until residency. LOLZ.
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Family Friends Growing Up Health Life Medicine

Worry

I worry about big things, like about the future. I worry about small things, like about not finishing all the summer reading I wanted. I worried when I was 9 and had no legitimate concerns. I worry now when every decision feels so pertinent. I worry about serious things like the environment. I worry about stupid things like having white teeth.
I worry about my family. I worry for their health and happiness. I worry about about their worries. I worry about their sadness. I worry about their foot fungus. I worry about their flaky patches of skin. I worry about their backs, their diets, their sore throats. I worry about my sisters. I worry about depression returning, looming in the sky like a big thunderhead that just passed over us. I worry about my nieces. I worry for them because its so hard to be a girl. I worry because its so hard to grow up and grow up right. I worry because things go wrong. I worry for them because there are hurts I can’t hide from them. I worry that they will see my worry because I want them to know how blessed they are and I’m worried my worry will make them think otherwise. I worry about them when I start medical school. I worry that they’ll think I won’t have time for them.
I worry about my friends. I worry that I’ll disappoint them. I worry that they won’t get everything they want for their lives. I worry about the hurt they will have to endure if they don’t. I worry about love. I worry that I don’t have a clue. I worry that I won’t have time to have a family. I worry that I’m not good enough. I worry that I’m screwing up. I worry that things won’t work out even though I know they will.
I worry about medical school. I worry that I’ll flunk out. I worry that I won’t make friends or won’t have time to. I worry that I’m not cut out for it. I worry that I’ll be incompetent or embarrass myself. I worry that I won’t like it. That I won’t want to study. I worry that I’ll worry more than I already do. I worry that it won’t be everything I wanted it to be. I worry that I will have done all this for nothing. I worry that I’ve made my non-existent career more important than people.
I worry about cancer. I worry about diabetes. I worry about heart disease. I worry about death and disease. I worry about pregnant women. I worry about babies. I worry about obesity. I worry about families. I worry about women in more dire circumstances than I can even imagine. I worry about our nation’s healthcare system. I worry about mental illness. I worry about people who don’t know better. I worry about people that do know better. I worry about vaccines. I worry about abortion. I even worry about the overuse of antibacterial hand soap. I worry about the food we put in our mouths. I worry about business, ethics, medicine, politics, immigration, gender roles, and society because all these things play into our health. I worry that we won’t be able to fix it all. I worry that I won’t even be able to do my part.
I worry that the worries I have listed here don’t even scratch the surface of what I worry about. I worry that I won’t ever stop worrying. I worry that someday the burdens I have for people, the stress that I feel will shut me down into a deep dark place, like I’ve seen worry do to people before.
But most of all, I worry that someday I won’t worry about these things anymore.