Daydreaming in pathology

I have finally made it to my last semester on Saba. I always thought that “the 5ths” had it all together – they knew all that they would learn in theory and they were as close to being doctors as anyone on this island. But now that I am one, I’m left looking around wondering how I got here.

People ask me if this experience has flown by and in many ways it has. When I picked up my life and moved to the Caribbean, I thought that these two years would be ones that I had to “get through,” but I learned quickly that they are just as much a part of my journey as any other. I have met people that I have so much in common with and that I learn so much from. Some that I will stay connected to and many that I certainly will never forget.

I like to think that I’ve grown in some small ways from the girl who failed her first histology exam, but in many ways I am still her. I’m excited about all that I have learned but the feeling of never knowing enough often consumes me. I have found ways to brush off some of the negative energy that breeds within a stressful environment. I have a new respect and perspective about some things and yet less tolerance for others. I have accepted and embraced the fact that marriage and children are further away than I previously thought. Instead, I have found a new sense of independence and freedom that I haven't had in years. I’ve often said that I could not endure this experience without the passion for it. We all must draw it from somewhere. I, personally, had my dreams fostered for 20 years by my father, so I am motivated by the support from my family.

Although I didn’t do medical school the “normal” way (or at least the way I always expected), my parents would tell you that it is typical for me to have found a way to do my own thing. I used to sleep under the bed instead of in it. I did both ballet and hockey in high school. I quit a government job to work as a carpenter. I convinced my friend Steph (and her other bridesmaids) to jump on her trampoline in the middle of her wedding rehearsal dinner. I travelled to Europe on my own. But here I am, with “arguably the toughest exam in the world” (as we often hear) before me, and I’m happy about it. I got a brief taste of emergency medicine at the local hospital and I am still high on the adrenaline. I’m excited to find out what else makes my heart race like that throughout clinicals.

But I’ve learned that this lifestyle does take sacrifice. This includes everything from going out on Friday night to seeing my family to my sanity itself. I was reading a blog recently that profiled a female physician and there were comments about how she was “wasting her life” working 24 hour shifts. This was one response:

"I can't speak for her, but I feel my life as a physician is far from wasted. I love my job, I love operating, I love taking care of patients. I get life & energy from all of it. Sure, some days are ridiculously hard and exhausting. But I still look forward to the next day. I can't imagine "wasting my life" doing anything else. I feel for the people who work only 4 hours a day but hate their job -- that is time wasted. I would suspect she feels the same."