Monday, March 28, 2011

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.

Saturday, March 26, 2011

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.