There’s been a fair bit of fear and self doubt and confusion chasing round my head recently, but sometimes there are moments of clarity too, when I remember something of why I thought becoming a doctor might be a good idea.
Take intimacy. How many professions let you – indeed, force you to – stand with someone at the very front line of life’s battles? Not in any abstract, academic sense but standing right there in the face of pain and tragedy and joy and all the rest. Being there when someone is dying or hurting or getting bad news or becoming a mother or getting annoyed or just plodding on through. Seeing and talking about the most intimate things. Hearing someone’s story.
What a privilege. But after that is it possible, I wonder, to go on with life as normal? After just a couple of days of shadowing doctors on a medical ward I was wondering if I’d be able to ever think of a body as sexy again, take my health for granted, relate to people doing normal, sensible careers.
Of course perhaps doctors learn to switch off as a necessary defence; it may well be impossible to really care about all those patients or think about it too deeply, a bit like it’s impossible to smile at everyone on a crowded London street. Doctors are just normal people after all. I hope I can be good enough not to stop trying to care.
Tomorrow I become a medical student. I should probably be excited but actually I’m mostly a) cold, b) surrounded by personal junk and very little storage space and c) missing the security of my friends. But I’m interested, I think, in what will happen and how I will feel. This is my last ever night of not being a medic. It is very difficult to unlearn things. So will I ever be the same again?
Change can be scary, but I take comfort from a wise friend who, when told that I was sad to leave my old life because I had been learning to love the present moment, reminded me that the present moment is always where you are. Right here.
And as Alan Watts said, “the only way to make sense out of change is to plunge with it, move with it, and join the dance”.
So we shall see. Here’s to waking up new and dancing.
Trypanophobia 
Your friend’s advice is spot on! Really, it seems the best way to go about this type of thing IS to live in the present, rather than stress about what’s coming or reflect on the “other life” you had before medicine.
I’ve had friends ask “why on earth would you want to put your life on hold for that long?” I guess it makes sense that so many people see it that way, and I’ve considered it too, but it all depends on how we perceive the adventure. Rather than thinking of it as life-on-hold, I like to think that I’ll still be living life, with new priorities – expanding my mind, taking a fantastic challenge, forging new relationships, and developing my “self.” We’ll still live each day, whether we’re in school and working our asses off, or not. Also, if this is truly what we’re meant to do and what will make us happy, aren’t we living life to the fullest by devoting ourselves to the challenge?
Good luck on your first day!
Thank you! You are completely right of course – I definitely need to join overthinkers anonymous!
oooooo, love that you’re writing a blog. Good luck tomorrow! Keep us posted.
What would my equivalent be? “Musings of a museum insect curator with cockcroach phobia”
Thanks Niki! 🙂 I haven’t seen any needles (or cockroaches) yet but it’s only a matter of time. xx
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I am really impressed with your writing skills as well as with
the layout on your blog. Is this a paid theme or did you customize it yourself?
Either way keep up the nice quality writing, it is rare to see a great blog like this one
today.
Thanks, that’s an extremely nice and encouraging thing to hear! I must write some more soon. It’s just a free WordPress theme – Twenty Eleven I think.