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.

Update

Ps. I went back.

I'm a first year, x2. There's so much to catch up on. I can do a quick run down of the highlights to catch you up to speed to today.

That cute boy, the one uber obsessed with school, well, like I predicted, he pulled out of my sister's wedding (not the only thing he's pulled out of). So I dumped him. This occured right around the time my entire life was falling apart ie. after I dropped out of medical school and spent four days in the hospital for unsaid reasons. So to get over it, I cried with my dad (yes, i was also still living at home) and then I ran 13 miles at 2 am. Oh, and about two months after this, I gave him a nice drunken delayed rage rant. Dropping out of medical school, a week in the hospital while we were together and a crazy drunk call after the fact....I really think he has to miss me.

He will be fine. Actually, fantastic. He's tall, goodlooking, rich and got a 250 on Step 1. Thank gawd he has diabetes or it just wouldn't be fair.

Alright, well, I spent my summer working in a trailor park mowing lawns. In hindsight, this job really fit well with the time in my life.

Then came O-week...number 2. Ms America, a girl in my class quickly became my best friend, I slept with Condo John and I met my now boyfriend, Dr. Hilarious. It was a good week.

10 weeks of anatomy followed. Many good times. I honored this time. Thank God. Literally, I thank Him daily.

Now I sit studying BC. A little nervous about that first test...the one that was the start of my quarter life crisis a year ago.

Like my sister says, I was on the right track, just the wrong train. So I forge ahead on my new train toward becoming a doctor. Still completely, unsure of where God really hopes for me to go.

ok, 15 min break over.

"What I feared has come upon me." - Job 33:25

Tonight I'm thinking of the song "Somewhere Out There" from the movie An American Tail.

I wonder if there is somewhere out there where dreams come true. My dream has fallen to pieces. Yesterday would have been the last day of my first year of med school. Instead, I am on a medical leave of absence. Ddx: depression. But if you ask me, I'd diagnose myself with complete loss of heart.

I wasn't cutting it. And rather than fail in front of everyone, I attempted to get out. Well, my attempt failed and has caused an array of new problems. Minor detail.

I'm currently working two jobs to pay back the 30 grand I just threw down the drain. One job is at this premier steakhouse where all the upity rich people come to diiiine. I think it only adds to my depression to witness the drastic seperation between the haves and the have-nots. Of course I am jealous, but another part of me finds it all pathetic. ...and depressing.

I'm still dating that cute boy. He's still an amazing man. But he is obsessed with school and boards. I guess I can't blame him...but honestly, a part of me knows it's not just school or step 1's, but the rest of his life. If there is not time now, how can I expect he will find time to fit me in later? Rotations next year, traveling in search of residencies 4th year, residency, fellowships, private practice, etc, etc. I want to think it will change, but know the reality. Honestly, I just want a date to my sister's wedding and a big part of me has a feeling he won't even make that a priority. O Medicine. Why couldn't my dream have been to be a teacher or a "business woman" like in Romi and Michelle's high school reunion. Than at least I could have tried for the "business woman's lunch special." Dang.

Am I going to go back? Probably. How do you change 17 years of brainwashing yourself. you don't.

A day of Epic Failure Can Sometimes Be Your most Successfully Lived Day

Yesterday, I participated in Tar Wars, which is a volunteer activity where med students go to a fifth grade classs and teach kids to not smoke. Beyond the fun of our teams complete disorganization and lack of math ability, the highlight was one of the last student questions. I quote, "I would just take the drugs or cigarettes and throw them away when I got home b/c I saw a commercial where this girl said no to taking drugs from a guy and then he stabbed her." And thus, another classic, my life is ridiculous med school story.

Welp, as though hanging with fifth graders for an hour weren't enough, we and be we I mean my group of lifesavers (those students/friends who will get me through med school alive, I hope) headed to the race track. O wait, this was after Don a Millies, where I successfully downed 3, 99 cent margaritas. Yes, I was the only one drinking, no I had not eaten and yes, med school makes you an alcoholic at the wierdest 3 o'clock in the afternoon moments. Anyways, yes, we headed to the track in order to race out our week's rage and hate for the kidney. After $65 dollars, ten minutes of wrecklass (drunk driving in my case) 55 mph go cart driving, and getting yelled at for "not controlling our carts" the rage had somewhat subsided.

At this point my friday is only beginning. After heading back to campus, dressing up in top hats, big sunglasses and alien head gear, we headed over to pick up our cardio tests. Another 3 patients dead and by that I mean the test didn't go well and I in fact, cannot yet save you, me or even a dog from a heart attack. Dang.

No tears have been shed thus far, and honestly, the night is looking up b/c I have a new crush and we were supposed to get coffee and study for the night. So, I head downtown to the coffee place he likes to study at and after searching I find an open parking area, look for any tow signs, and don't see them (apparently, I am both stupid and blind) and park. My hot crush was running late so i went into the coffee shop. 3 minutes later, my hot crush calls telling me there was a tow truck with what can only be my car on the back. Long story short, after 3 minutes, I lost my car to a tow truck dirt bag and 5 minutes later, I borrowed $200 from my hot crush in order to get it back. O and the toe truck dirt bag made me climb up onto the two truck in order to get into my car and drive it down the ramp. My hot crush gave me a lift, which is the ONLY reason any of this is at all OK.

At this point, I told God to "bring it," laughed and followed my hot crush the wrong way down a one way street, which I believe was God's way of saying "Oh, it's brung" (which is not a word, but honestly, I do not care).

Ok, well despite this day from hell, it turned out to be the best day of my life. My hot crush is a nice guy... who knew. We watched my all-time fav funny movie, drank screw top wine (my first good luck of the day) and the rest is written on cloud 9, where I currently sit.

O and did I mention this enter day occurred with my in a dress.

Today, med school, you once again b*tch-slapped me and I could not care less. ;)

The end.

Reeeeeally Starting to Get It

Ten things I have learned after one semester of med school:

1. I, in fact, do not want to be a doctor.
2. In the worst case scenario I will become a doctor.
3. A post-test date with an M2 can be splendid, however, the reality is he knows that you know the neither of you have time for a relationship come Monday.
4. Med school should be taught on a need to know based curriculum.
5. You are indeed trading your personality for an identity.
6. Personality becomes your favorite characteristic in people as you lose your own.
7. Every med student should be assigned a counselor, who is normal and not a doctor, in order to keep them sane in their insane reality.
8. I think if I could be any organ, the smartest choice would be to be the heart because it never rests. This would make me a perfect med student.
9. It's hard to find your niche, but the friends you do find are the ones who you thank if you make it.
10. Everyday, I will want to quit.

Tomorrow is Monday. Shoot me in the head.