I haven't posted in a long while. A decent excuse would take all day. To be short and sweet: medical school has cut out a large portion of my blog writing time.
But today, I've decided that histology could wait a damn minute while I post an update. And just a forewarning: this is going to be scatter brained. It's hard to sum up three months in a couple paragraphs.
First: I passed anatomy. Grateful for the experience, but I never want to live it again. The gut wrenching (literally), life-taker-over, study-unspeakable-body-parts-'til 4 AM class is over. All I can say is: Thank. God.
Now I'm in my 3rd unit of Biology of Cells & Tissues, and I've enjoyed it thus far. I like biology. Just do. I like being able to read a piece of text and regurgitate a good portion of it back to you. I like reading what I've read before (many thanks to undergrad professors). I like slices of guiltless free time, and BCT has allowed me that time... I've watched movies, read a book for leisure, spent quality family time, shadowed a couple physicians, and I've thrown back a couple beers with classmates. It's been nice.
Medical school, after figuring out how to play the game a little better, has done pretty wonderful things for my sanity. Opposite to what you'd expect, I know. I'll back this up with a short anecdote:
Today I went for a check-up (nothing major) at our family medicine clinic, and one of the first questions she asked was if I was a med student. A very clinically relevant question. After that, several of the questions asked were along the lines of:
How much stress would you say you're under?
Do you ever get weepy?
Do you have body aches?
Now I won't pretend to be a physician, but these were all questions that, for the most part, if answered 'yes,' or 'a lot,' point to depression. Questions that are completely understandable, and she was right for asking. For God's sake, the day before we started med school, a psychiatrist spoke to our class. And by spoke, I mean he gave us the number for a suicide hotline and told us that we have five free therapy sessions available whenever we need them. So yeah, the physician asked me relevant questions.
But the truth is this: I'm happier now than I've ever been before. A steady happy. I'm at peace - a state of peace that I didn't really ever find in undergrad. For once, when my life gets rocky, I can pinpoint what's causing it, and I can fix it. If I'm cranky, I take a nap. If I'm worried about grades, I study out the anxiety. I'm not depressed, and for the first time in a good while, I honestly couldn't answer 'yes' to any one of those questions.
Medical school has given me security ...a routine. I have just enough free time to keep me sane, but not enough to drive me crazy. And even more importantly, I've been forcibly taught to genuinely appreciate whatever bit of free time I get. To genuinely appreciate a shopping trip with an old friend... going to the movies with classmates... a good laugh... a weekend with my family.... an opportunity to write a blog post.
