Brilliance and Mediocrity

It has been a while. A long while. I'll quickly catch you up to speed.

Af the end of my M1x2 year, the "girls" and I traveled to Las Vegas in between our final test and the comprehensive exam. I will sum up the trip with the following quote from the vacation: "Marqee - VIP, free drinks, bottle service, Dom Perignon, dancing till 2 am. It was A-mazing and I never, ever want to do it again."

Following these three days of madness, we all passed the comp and patted ourselves on the back for partying rather then studying for a pass/fail test. And boom goes the dynamite.

The summer consisted of pure bliss. I worked two jobs - research, as well as, my waitressing job at Mahogany. Apparently, research looks good on a CV, however, I have yet to come out with a paper so really, for me, it was $3700 and something to "do" so that my dad wouldn't get on my back and so that when people asked, "Are you doing research?" I could respond with a "yes, of course, I'm actually doing it with a minimally invasive surgeon who works in robotic surgery." See, sounds impressive. Check. Mahogany was awesome, as always.

I also had a 3 week rotation with a general surgeon. To sum up the experience, I would use the word, extraordinary. It was the first time medicine looked like it did in my dreams growing up. This guy worked his butt off, was well respected, happy, happily married with kids, reserved, yet refined, nice, patient, yet high expectations, smart, talented, worked out, an awesome surgeon, a great teacher, funny, played the guitar, well respected by his staff and patients - i could go on for days. Ah, I wonder how I become THAT kind of doctor. I just don't see it happening in this atmosphere. I think I become more and more bitter each day, as well as, down on myself. I also wonder how a girl becomes a surgeon and is happy. I honestly do not think it is possible. I'm 26, only a 2nd year and somehow I am supposed to finish med school, finish a residency, get married and have a child in the next probably 7 years (if I want my child to be without downs and my husband to NOT have been divorced prior). I'm going to need a nap.

Other then all the working, the summer was pure fun. Skinny dipping, hungover brunches, an accidental slip with Dr. Australia, as well as, Condo John (yes, I have since refrained from this activity for 6 months, filling one hand is NOT ok #slut), pool days at Dr. Redhead's parents house, doing nothing, trip to Denver with my best dental friend. Honestly, it felt like what i think life is supposed to feel like - work, yes, but enjoyment. It feels so good to be able to just "be".

Well, anyways, back in it since August. Updates. Hmm. I think I am beginning to accept the fact that I am just not a pure talent or really even that smart. This doesn't make most days any easier or me less disappointed in myself, but facing reality has made me less likely to make any rash decisions ie. you know what I mean. Updates on the med school class front...hmm, well Dr. Ms America slept with Dr. Swag Nag on the "priviledged kid's" two week trip to Thailand. A following HPV infection, as well as, combination of deusch and crazy has since led to a bit of a rift between groups. Dr. Redhead still worries about "the rainbow" but I am nearly 97% sure she is OK. I also am glad I have her. Dr. H's husband yelled at me for being a bad christian and not respecting the constitution of marriage. Thus, I don't think their marriage is going well and I apparently am to blame. Dr. All the Right Moves in All the right places and I do not talk. He is the perfect Christian and realized I am not. Surprise! Dr. Virgin Wes got engaged to a girl in his small group from the church i used to go to where the average age is 23 yo and the average number of married people with kids is 94%. This could be an exaggeration, but it is likely that it is not. Anyways, he met his now fiance in their small group. You think the one night stand he had with the Dr. above me less then a year ago came up in the small group discussion? No, seriously, I do wonder.

Ok, as for me...I am "talking" to Dr. Irish Indian. It's really progressing slowly, mostly because I think I am trying to restore some sort of relationship with God and I am currently in the dark as to who I am, what I am doing, where I am going or what I want - in life, relationships, career, faith, etc. It's interesting because this blog has honestly been started during a very, very "dark" period of my life. A period Lifesaver Sue described as a very humbling experience (understatement), one where I fell off the wagon and the wagon ran me over. I did get back up, but I'm pretty sure I've just been going through the motions, hesitant to want or desire anything, in fear of being disappointed again. Anyways, I began this in order to say that the tone of the blog may be in a transition. I started this Fresh Start group and I think it's really beginning to change my perspective and I hope, my course in life. "I" will probably get in the way of any change, but I hope for something different. We will see.

Well, to tie this all to the title, I will tell you a story.

I enter lecture hall the other morning, coffee in hand, ready to learn and to my surprise Dr. Arthritis, big wig faculty, is talking to those in the lecture hall. I take a quick seat as someone asks why we still have the z-score. Dr. Arthritis went on to say how they have tried to take it away in the past, but the students who wanted to see their "brilliance" were upset they had no way of knowing how smart they were and so it wasn't fair to them. Phew, thank GAWD we can reinforce the top ten's brilliance. In return, 120 some people will be left to question who they are or if they matter every single day. Or maybe just 1...me. Nonetheless, congratulations to the brilliant! Let BeeeeriLIANCE shine on! Anyways, this ruined my day. The end.

You're Right it's not Fair

Med school is just as unfair as the world outside our walls. People with older simblings have the answers to tests...and they are usually the smartest people in the class...this leaves the first generation med schoolers to fight for their lives, for their positions in med school. Some lose. Dr. Missionary is going to get kicked out and she's had no help. And the smartest, the richest, the most able are the least willing to help those that need it. And it's b/c of the rat race to the top. The race that this stupid place fosters. It's the Dr. BONE-asses who have med school paid for, who have granite counter tops, tile floors, grocery deliver, and all the "it" people to know in order to get into whatever residency they want. And don't get me wrong, the strongest and smartest do work hard and bust their butts to a certain extent. But MAN, it must be nice to not have another worry other than school on your back.

I just ran into Dr. BONE-ass. I wish I had never, ever, ever, ever met him or found out that people like him exist. I will never, ever try to find a cure for diabetes.

Engagement Rings and Mental Hospitals

I currently sit ten feet from a flock of women congradulating one of their fellow pharm students on her engagment. "O, wow. He must REALLY love you?" Must be another big ring. I can't decide anymore if I even want to get married or if I just want a fatty ring on my finger to signify the reality that I in fact, am loved by a man and that I am loved a hell of a lot more (based on ring size) in comparison to THAT girl (whomever she may be). I should just take out a huge loan and buy myself a 2 carat sparkler then get skinny for my fake wedding and be ridiculously cheery all the time to try and channel this everpresent bride vibe around me. I mean not a minute goes by in this state without another engagment and based on my current relationship status it just really makes me what to scream, "HOW DO YOU ALL KNOW THAT YOU KNOW?" Oh, and it also makes me want to punch a few people in the face. Sometimes, I'm not sure if this is due to a mix of both ring madness and med school hell. Eh, whatev. Oh, and P.S. Mr. Brad Pitt got engaged last night. Mr. Brad Pitt is my first love. I fell in love my freshman year in college when I saw him from across the cafeteria and thought he looked like, you guessed it, Brad Pitt. I remember thinking to myself, the girl that gets to date him is so lucky. Well, about a year later, he happened to notice me in spandex trotting around campus and a blind date occured soon after. We quickly became two virgins in love. The break up, or multiple "breaks" - the reason I do not believe in "taking breaks" - did not end well. But I honestly have no hard feelings. It was just not the right time and I honestly was not the girl for him and still know that I am not, despite maybe wishing that I was. But man, it still feels like a quick, direct hit to the groin or the equivalent of that for a girl - whatever that may be. She is probably perfect. Most likely a virgin, or a teacher for handicap kids, or has attended BIble study every Wednesday for all of her adult life or keeps a perfect house or is just simply balanced and/or mentally stable. Man. My life is sooOOooo dirty in comparison. Well, in other less sparkly news, Dr. Jew Fro Andrew is in the psych ward across the street. I wonder why my heart did not drop more when I heard the news. Shouldn't I automatically return to those feelings I know all too well and just die inside at the thought of someone else having to endure it? But honestly, all I could think about was how he hasn't even hit the worst of it. It's the re-building that is the hardest - knowing where to start, how to start, where to go, again. I can't even remember a first step I took to get back on track (and who really knows if I am back on track). People say you go through things so that you can better understand them yourself in order to help others. Is this true or is it just the way you make someone feel better when they are going through shit? Because as much as I want to help Dr. Jew Fro Andrew, I know it's going to be totally up to him, a deep down personal battle that only he can come pull himself out of. Oh, it's so sad. And I wonder what I can do and how I fit into it. Another day of sparkly rings and psych wards.

Not Sure Why

I have decided one of the best questions one can ask in med school is simply, "why?" Despite the fact that i could, but do not, raise my hand to ask why throughout every class, does not mean that I don't have a million questions. But lately, my "whys" do not pertain to the lecture material. Instead, they just pertain the life stuff.

Here's a glimpse. Ms. America. Why. Why does it come so simply. Yesterday, at the neuro lab table - yes, us "four mean girls" are lab partners - Dr. Sarcastic came up in convo. Personally, I love Dr. Sarcastic and have always thought he is smart, witty and unconventional. But in this particular convo, Ms. America described him as one of those people who just works super hard, but still doesn't do well. Hm. Immediately, I thought, sad. Then it occured to me that this is a sentence that could very well describe me, as well. Rude. Why does this bother me? Will all of us who fall below the high pass/honor range never cut it - as doctors or worthy individuals?

I will admit, despite being mediocre myself, I so often find myself judging and putting down mediocrity. Or perhaps, moreso, praising those that are more perfect, those that go after it and do in fact, get it. The Dr. Bone-asses, the Ms. Americas, etc. This may be what I'm finding to be the saddest aspect of myself, an aspect i'm ashamed of, yet continue to foster. For example, on the phone yesterday with Dr. Hilarious, we were talking about how Dr. Meghan Roomie was looking for boards advice. He chimed, "I'll give her advice." Immediately, I think, "Why you?" Dr. Hilarious did not do well on step 1's, and doesn't it make sense to ask those people her were successful, not those who failed. I found myself disappointed, I felt unrest knowing that my man wasn't one of the go after it and get it types that is at least, in terms of board scores. But then I think and know in the back of my mind, based on my history that I too, moreso then Dr. Hilarious, will probably not do exceptional on boards. Then I find myself wanting, yearning so badly to change the reality of who I am, the mediocrity.

And so I begin to ask, "why," but now in terms of everything, in terms of my life and those around me. What was the purpose of last year and my struggle and have I really delved into what it is supposed to teach me and how it is or was supposed to change me? Because I think back, remembering how horrible it was, not being able to remember, thinking I was stupid, incapable, going to be "found out," and wonder why it was so much harder last year. Not that it isn't hard now, but it is definitey doable, and I'm doing well, now. So I wonder, did God put up a brick wall to stop me, and if so, do i fully know why? And why did I have to struggle, why does Dr. Jew-Fro Andrew have to struggle. His mom and dad have been diagnosed with cancer, he has to repeat the year, his wife is a lesbian. WHY this when Ms. America will get school paid for, get her medical bills paid for, continue her quest toward dermatology (with ease), catch breaks, go on dates with other men while she has a bf, get e-mails from core directors praising her, study and remember everything, etc. Where is the peace in this?

I'll settle down. I guess, maybe I'll just end with the news I found out during my service trip to Jamaica, which happened to be matchweek for Dr. Hilarious. He got matched to Detroit. Thats a three year residency, far far away. Why would my school not pick their own president to represent them in the ER? Is it because they deemed him "sub-par" and if so, do all of us "sub-par" people not have the ability to become more, to become what we were made to be and have people look upon us with pride? I'm afraid in the medical field, there is no grace, you either are or you are not "a talent." Last year this unchangeable reality led me to the hospital. This year, I have only come up with the fact that I must just keep going. I wish I knew what purpose it will serve, the reason why I must continue.

Deja Vu

Well, it is only 3 weeks until I will no longer be living in deja vu. I officially will have served my time for dropping out of med school and will have completed the same amount of my M1 year that I completed once before - except this time, no doubt, with a more stylish swag. O man. I will assume you are congradulating me and you can assume I am doing a slight curtsy.

I am still sleeping with Dr. Hilarious. And we are also now in love. He calls me an emotional bomb, I call him fat, I blame med school, he blames fourth year, it's all a very lovely not so romantic love afair. Will I marry him? I don't know. Life savor Sue (my counselor) says "you'll know." Interesting. Such a conflict of being a woman, wanting a ring (a big one, shallow, i know) and checking that box. But honestly, he is the best man I have ever dated, patient, kind, loving, accomplished. I don't know what I am missing. I get so frustrated with myself. I told dad I was worried about his weight, drinking, and gambling. He said to grow up and asked if Dr. Hilarious supports me, loves me, is a good man. I couldn't deny any of those points.

And O med school. OooOOo. That's not what you may think. If med school gave me that I would jump at the chance to go to class. Instead, i continue to fight the battle. Sometimes, I wonder if others love it and never question the parts of medicine I do. I will admit, I have a negative perspective and I get jealous. So jealous. Ms. America is a genius and I am jealous. There it is. I said it. She missed 3 on the renal/lung test. This is not normal. And I can barely stand to be around her when it comes to school stuff because she knows it all and I swell with insecurity. Then my mind goes wild. I worry suddenly that everyone will go into dermatology, except me. I wonder if I will ever let go. Secretly, I wonder if I will ever "let go and let God."

I will say, I am playing the game of med school much better this time around - raising my z score, limiting team work, and shrugging my shoulders more often. And so despite hating the idea of research, I applied to a research program this summer. "It will look good on your CV" - I hear. I just remind myself it's $3000, and that I am poor.

I also have a crush. We will call him Dr. All the Right Moves in All the RIght Places. He is a perfect christian.

Well, I will sign off with the running list of questions that swing through my mind on a consistent basis.

Dr. Hilarious comes home on Monday. Why am I not excited?
Dr. All the RIght Moves in All the RIght Places may come out tonight. Why am I excited?
Am I smart enough to ever actually be a doctor?
What kind of a doctor will I become when I don't want to be a doctor at all?
Will I take the path less traveled or will i continur to yearn for the material and try to fill the holes with nothingness.


Ps. I went with Abused GIrl to her divorce hearing. She means the world to me and I am so proud of her.