“Too much of a good thing is never a good thing.”
Let’s just say the past two weeks has been nothing short of spectacular. But like almost every week in medical school, it’s been a sustained, almost enslaving spectacular that makes liberation frighteningly revitalizing. I’ll explain.
Over the past two weeks, I’m convinced I’ve done, seen and learned more than the average person does in months. I saw multiple patients at the free clinic one night, then gave a tour of it the next. I shadowed a cardiologist and saw an EKG of a patient on the brink of a heart attack. I interviewed a pregnant actress who experienced physical abuse. I’ve memorized almost 45 drugs and their mechanism of action. I studied cardiac electrophysiology, anatomy and histology. I also cut a human heart out of a deceased person’s chest and examined it. I helped diagnose a patient with aortic stenosis. I housed an interviewee and a friend from another medical school. I scrimmaged in ultimate frisbee, and flag football, danced salsa and went to church. Interspersed with those activities, I studied my butt off for dozens of hours. Tomorrow will include an 8 mile hike and a football game and three days from now I’ll be shadowing a pediatric cardiologist.
And with the exception of some non-medical school fun things here and there, it has been a constant track meet. Every day must be planned to the hour in efforts to stay somewhat on pace with school and avoid burn out. Each fun event and study plan must be screened meticulously for it’s value before commitment is given. An hour that produces mediocre fun or sub par understanding in academic preparation is quickly thrown out.
When I visited with one of my non-med school friends tonight, I was refreshed by nothing more than simple dialogue. I stepped out of my medical school suit, and forgot about memorizing, and performing. We talked about random stories and funny situations. For several hours, our only goal was to laugh and have a good time. (Something I’ve become accustomed to doing in medical school within small, 1-10 minute pockets of time). He had no idea what I had gone through this past week. And I appreciated that.
I didn’t want to think about everything I had done. I didn’t want to regurgitate more information. I wanted to laugh and think creatively. To ask questions without a specific acronym with which to guide them. To drop my notepad and just live.
So that's what I did and it was spectacular.
