The Worst Possible Moment

Why is it that the things we dread the most, the things we avoid thinking about at all costs, the emotional turbulence and mental confusion we so actively suppress always come up at the worst possible moment? As I hold myself together with scotch tape and staples there is something pulling me apart. I wasn't consulted by my brain before this all came about. My amygdala on overdrive, reached into the depths of my suppressed memories, deep into the hypothalamic trunk, brushed off the dust and spiders and presented to my consciousness that which had been buried so well. Seriously Brain, do we have to talk about this now?! I have a final in two days. You need to be working on memorizing a very very long list of drugs, mechanisms of action, adverse effects, and clinical uses. Come on, now. We have no time for this.

I argue with myself in vain. What's out it out now, and won't go. back. in.

The End of the Beginning

Two years may seem like a long time when you're looking at the calendar ahead. In retrospect, everything seems faster. It always seems like I should have taken more time to do that fun thing I missed out on because I was studying. It seems like I had more time back then than I do now. There were definitely ups and downs, but I'm trying to keep in mind that what I've spent the last two years doing I would not have traded for anything. I never had that experience of waking up one day and thinking "Eureka! I should be a doctor!" It was always something in the back of my mind. It always felt more like my path than anything else. Maybe that sounds familiar to anyone who feels driven toward something by an unconscious force.

In one week there will be many types of ending - ending a year in Grenada, a place I have both loved and hated; ending two years of study, which will be bittersweet; ending a lifetime of formalized education, which is anxiety producing. This last realization came to me suddenly a few weeks ago. I have only been out of school for one year, and that was a gap year during which I fully intended to continue my education. That "gap" year wasn't even fully a gap because I completed a certification as an emergency medical technician (EMT) during that time. Even when I was out of school I was in school! Now, this is really the End. I am both excited and nervous.

With endings, there are beginnings... onto the Clinical Years (as soon as I pass Pharmacology and Pathophysiology)....

The Hardest Part is Over ?

This semester I've finished Term 3/4. Notoriously difficult for more than one reason. The combined semester lasts from January through June and is the longest we will endure. We took over 25 credit hours, with one class making up the majority at a whopping 13 credits. For those of us who made it through, I am confident not one remained unscathed. I was exhausted mentally, physically, and surprisingly emotionally. The work load was unfathomable, and now I think back and wonder how I possibly made it through all that material. The pace was at sprint speed for the distance of a marathon. The professors were uncaring, and more than that, seemed to make it their goal to scare as many people as possible into withdrawing to retake the course next semester. Out of a class of around 450, over 100 withdrew.

I feel in shock that it's over. I keep thinking I have to wake up tomorrow and go to class. I am not completely recovered; I think that will take some time.