A Blur

During orientation, we heard it multiple times: “There’s such a vast amount of information you have to know in medical school, it’s like trying to drink out of a fire hose.” I’d say it’s pretty true. There’s an incredible amount to learn, and it sometimes feels like as soon as it’s learned, the test is taken, the information’s gone and it’s time to move on to the next block. I would extend the metaphor even further. If you’ve ever been tubing behind a speedboat, you know the feeling of desperately trying to hold on. It’s exhilarating, terrifying, exciting and sometimes you fall off and it hurts, but inevitably, you get back on and want more. That’s what my experience this year has been like, but not just with medical school. More with balancing medical school with the rest of my life. It seems like medical students and health care professionals are crazy. Everyone works their butt off, sleeps little, is stressed out, makes sacrifices, sometimes questions what they’re doing and why—but then something happens. We learn a little more about why something happens the way it does. A patient makes an impression on us. We make a difference in someone’s life. We get that much closer to the next step (3rd and 4th year when we get to be in the wards), which is that much closer to being a real doctor, and we experience that high that has kept so many people in the fraternity of medicine throughout the ages. It’s that high of finally attaining what we’ve strived for our whole lives that keeps us going.

It has been an adjustment. Undergrad seemed like child’s play. It mattered, but not that much. Now, we’re learning about things like bacteria, what a z-pack is, why Swine flu is called H1N1, anatomy and those raging hormones that our parents hated during our teenage years. Now, we’re supposed to know what those things are, how they work, and how they’re related. MRSA and VRE are no longer just random letters we see pasted to doors in the ER. Now, we know what those are (and we’re supposed to know what drugs to give to treat them, and how to avoid them in the first place). It’s a lot of pressure, but it’s what we’ve been striving for all these years. In a backwards and confusing way, we enjoy it; and even though we might get knocked off every once in a while, we scramble back on with anticipation for what’s next.

For many first-years, the summer between first and second year, the infamous “last summer” is for research, vacation or to spend time with loved ones. Many feel the pressure to keep pushing forward and dive into a research project so they can get published, so it can go on their resume, so they can do better in the Match. For me, I wanted to do something different. Something unusual. Something for me, but for others at the same time. So, I decided to ride my bike with a couple great friends from Brown from the Atlantic Ocean to the Pacific Ocean for a project a good friend and I started in the DR our senior year. We’ve given ourselves 53 days (3 days of rest) (www.onedreamtwooceans.com for more details on our ride and our project). It will be a trip to remember, the adventure I crave, and hopefully a money-maker for our project (again, medical students are crazy).

Looking back, it’s been a blur. Nine months ago, I didn’t know anything about medicine. Now, it feels like I’ve only scratched the surface of a massive amount of knowledge even though we’re one week away from the halfway mark of our classroom learning. The majority of the water from that fire hose seems to have missed my mouth, even though I was trying desperately to have a drink. We have one more test, and it’s summer. For me, my brain is essentially on vacation. Brown’s graduation was last week, and we had 2 more weeks after that when we were in the classroom. I’m ready for my infamous “last summer.” I’m ready for some time to reflect, to breathe, to give back to those I care about, and to prepare for what’s to come. I’m ready to slow down, to loosen my grip, catch up with friends and family, and get ready for second year, another crazy ride.