Instead of learning about this week’s viruses and the bacteria that I should have mastered two or three weeks ago (but who’s counting when I am this behind?), I offer my dear reader a glimpse of my happily overflowing life as a first year medical student. In these past few months, my identity has been both lost and strengthened, as I am stretched beyond capacity in nearly every direction, almost daily. It’s rather wonderful. Having so little time only enhances each moment, and I drink in knowledge, friendship, purpose.
Bad days are like today: I set no alarm to let myself sleep, and wake up unintentionally at 3:30 am. After a half hour of tossing and turning, I give up on sleep and drag myself out of bed for an impromptu 4 am yoga session (the last few months of near-inactivity have me lying awake in stiffness and pain, as I prematurely empathize with my future geriatric patients…), and begin my work in peaceful, dark, silence. Perhaps sipping a cup of single-origin coffee, the sun rises and the day begins, as I rush off to somewhere to furiously absorb or regurgitate newly procured knowledge.
Good days are also like today, except I may have acquired more sleep, eaten a less mushy banana, spent more time with friends, finished the day’s lectures, and pushed myself into a deeper backbend…
Frustrations, yes. Questions, sometimes (like the differential diagnoses that float to my mind when I question: what toxins will I likely ingest from this soup of questionable age?). Sacrifice, so much (but I am constantly reminded of how much this struggle is worth. What else would I be doing with my mid-to-late twenties?). Passion, always. Passion moves me. Yes, this word is overused and I am known to indulge in its use, but passion bubbles up so unexpectedly (and with such frequency!), that I can’t help but be overwhelmed with intrigue and delight. And these little bouts of passion, if you will, reaffirm my purpose and drive me forward.
I am blessed to be living with such fullness.
(No wonder I can’t help but smile)