M2 Mitzvah

I cannot commit myself to studying today. Maybe it’s because I’ve been running ‘round like a chicken with her head cut off trying to get this poster done for a conference in Canada. Or maybe it’s the beautiful weather. Or maybe it’s because of the butterflies in my stomach as I wait for all of my grades to trickle in. Or maybe—JUST MAYBE (this is the big one) it’s because I am so so happy that I’ll be embarking on the Step 1 journey and starting rotations in a couple months.

For those that don’t know, Step 1 is like the equivalent of a Bar or Bat Mitzvah for doctors. No, you won’t be a doctor after taking it (just as you are not really a man or a woman after you get your mitzvah on) but you’re somehow closer. And you’ve got numbers and letters to prove it. Sounds kind of scary—like when you realized you outgrew the shoes in the children’s section and you keep wandering over to look at them longingly. But, really it’s kind of a big deal. Bigger even, than realizing you can’t fit into kids’ Keds. But, I’m kind of excited to put it all together and to move on from “undergraduate medical education” and become a scrubby bottom feeder in the medical hierarchy.

Will I be thinking in the hospitals? Or will Livin’ On a Prayer continue to define my every move? I can’t really answer that now, but I’m excited for the possibilities.

I’ve been thinking about all the things that have happened in such a short space of time since I’ve started medical school. I had a quarter life crisis M1 year; I got married; my cousin died; my family shifted; I became a better friend to some; and a worse friend to a few; and now here I am standing before the proverbial mirror reflecting on it all. All the ways I’ve grown and all the confidence that has been shattered and rebuilt, and then shattered, and then…contemplated in medical school. What the HELL is this experience?!

And what about the people who walk the same halls as you, but don’t say “hello” unless they’ve had a few at a post-exam party? Med school is just a weird place. It’s like being in a high school movie where there are cliques that lack fluidity and the “ugly girl” is really a “pretty girl” with glasses. It seems fake and manufactured at times. I often wonder if that’s because of what it does to those that walk the path of medicine. It homogenizes us and it also breaks us down. It creates a sense of accomplishment through an oddly oppressive psychological process—a little bit like the army, but slightly more subtle. Only slightly.

These past 2 years have felt like a whirlwind of binging and purging information as I coiled my already curly hair around an index finger. More, more, more—nothing is ever enough. But, I guess the trick is to always keep trying to be better. Everyday. And also kind of knowing your limits. Like, I mean, I sleep. I enjoy sleeping and I’m not giving it up for nobody or they mama!

Plus, we’ll never know it all. We are just Pac Mans gobbling up little treats as we whiz on by, but we’ll never know it all. I find that kind of beautiful and also a little bit horrible. Sometimes you bust your ass, but that mess was just not on the test. And sometimes we get a little bit lucky and the universe (or whomever you believe in) shakes things out in our favor. But it’s all about trying, and pushing, and crying, and running, and trying again to be better than the last time. Or maybe even the best we can be for the moment, given the circumstances.

So, maybe I did learn a little about the Pentose Phosphate Pathway, but mostly I learned a lot more about my own humanity. And I also took away some keen observations about the people around me. I won’t ever be sure what isolating classmates, or walking past people as if they were ghosts will do for anyone’s career. It just goes to show that IQ and EQ may never meet somewhere in the middle. But, it’s alright. I learned a lot and I didn’t have to do it alone.

Besides becoming really tight with Goljan over the past year, I’ve accumulated some really beautiful people along the way. This experience is definitely something I would never want to do alone. With that said, let us continue to be responsible for each other as well as ourselves. Part of medicine is learning how to care for and be responsible for others. I think my friends and I have gotten the hang of that.

Happy M2 Mitzvah!