Hello, 3rd year!
I’ve been meaning to write something proper about medical school ever since I entered it. But two years of failed attempts, and I still got nothing. I’m not even sure if I’m going to publish this very thing I’m writing right now. So if you do find yourself reading this, might as well whisper a silent ‘Congrats!’ because that means I did it. That is, if my thoughts don’t go haywire along the way.
Truth is I don’t know what to write. I don’t want to write about what’s happening in school because that would be boring. Med school, after all, is just like any other school—just maybe more reading, more lecture, more exams, more paperwork, more coffee, more sleeping in class and not sleeping at night. I don’t want to write about how happy I am to be here, how close I am to my dream. That would be a lie because it’s not even my dream. I honestly don’t have one, unless you would consider traveling around the world and eating in the best restaurants. Rather, let’s just say med school is the best plan I’ve got for myself for the simple reason that I have no other plans.
ANYWAY, after rambling two paragraphs worth of nonsense, I think I would settle on writing about first days. After so many first days of school from grade school to college, I’ve come to accept the inevitable. Med school is different though. I dread first days in med school knowing that once it starts, it won’t end until it’s the end. It’s not like I have a say when I need to pause to take a break. I dread it to the point of summoning every thunderstorm to come and suspend our classes. I dread it that while watching The Fault in Our Stars, stream of tears running down my face, the thought of going to school the next day just kept on doing an intermission in my head. And at those times, I feel confused for a split second or two as for the real reason why I’m crying.
What’s funny though is that at the end of every first day in med school, I find myself happy. I think it’s mostly because of the people. Except for a few usual changes we can attribute to summer, everyone is the same. They say the same things, laugh at the same things, basically talk and act the same way. They are mature people who talks about immature things. They are a good mix of good people. There are the competitive ones, and there are those who are so incompetent I don’t understand why they bothered to enroll in the first place. But either way, they are there and are willing to help you. They listen to you, too. They are genuinely happy for you when you’re doing well; and they don’t laugh or mock you when you’re not. Maybe it comes naturally from people who want to be doctors someday—the care, the understanding, the enthusiasm of seeing each other and hearing their stories. I guess what I’m really trying to say in this already long post is that I’m glad to see everyone again. Welcome to another school year, another version of our same journey together!
And oh, I also got the scholarship I applied for last semester! But aside from the bragging rights and less financial burden for my parents, I think it’s more of God telling me a message. Like a sign of sorts. That I am exactly where I am supposed to be, that I can do it, and I will do it. So indeed, hello, 3rd year! :)