Trudging forward...

Following the excitement of four exams, each within one week of each other, I have come to terms with how I should finish this final leg of the post-bacc program. It has taken a solid year for me to really feel confident in myself academically and this is because I relied for too long on comparing myself to others. Yup.

Stuff 50 post-bacc pre-med students in a room together and let the competition begin. Competition and personal growth are slippery friends and if not treated with care and equality, may result in peer resentment and tense social environments, along with self beration. Pre-med students love comparing their grades and academic standing with each other. It sucks. Nobody wants to hear about how you killed the class average and barely lifted a finger to study. Nobody at all wants to hear about the intangible qualities you possess that make you an ideal medical school applicant. Nobody likes a braggart.

The point that I was ultimately trying to make is that comparing yourself to others is a waste of time and that, really, you have to live life at your own pace.

On Tuesdays I volunteer at a local hospital where most of the patients are pre or post-ops.

I have met a number of patients with striking medical diagnoses. One of which had been in the hospital for four weeks and screened for esophageal cancer. Some of you may know that one of my closest uncles died in March of 2008 from...dun dun dun duuuuhhhh: esophageal cancer.

I think one of the more challenging aspects of working in healthcare is when you know that there is not a single drug, surgery or doctor in the world that can cure a patient with a terminal prognosis, only prolong their life. Despite a wide range of medical advances and the depth of knowledge researchers have uncovered, we're still powerless. And although that sounds despairing, it is not - not yet. It is meant to be humbling.

Anyone who has ever worked in a hospital knows that the patients they serve are not at their best - mentally and physically. And to make matters worse, many of them don't have family that are able to sit with them all day and keep them company. Instead they have to rely on medical staff, like me. It strikes me as a very lonely life being in a hospital bed all day.

One of the patients I hung out with had been in the hospital for nearly 3 mos. When I asked the charge nurse if family ever visited she said his mother was too sick and he didn't have any children or siblings. Another patient had three sons, two of which lived overseas and was widowed. I don't know if she was told or not, but due to an arterial occlusion, her foot was not receiving any oxygenated blood and was reaching necropathy (tissue death) and would eventually need to be amputated. I would hate to go through that alone.

In other news, classes are as challenging as ever, but I am keeping afloat. Organic chemistry has already taken a few as victims (students have withdrawn). Each day that I walk into that class I liken it to a dank cave 6 ft below ground full of bats, slugs, ghosts, wigs, and clowns that one must trudge their way through with only one small weapon and a dimly lit torch at their disposal and both of which will carry you safely through the cave, but only if you use them properly.

On a very upsetting note, my vision is now 20/50 OD.