1st April 2021. I’ve moved more than 12 times in my life, to various cities, states, and countries. My move down south for medical school has been the hardest by a landslide. At first, it was simply hard because I go to a very large school (my class size – yes for my year alone – is somewhere near 300). This actually made it harder to meet people, as smaller groups naturally formed as a result. Long story short, I’ve made a few close friends, learned the hard way that less is more, and am grateful for every experience I have had thus far.
Moving to an unfamiliar place, where you don’t know anyone or anything, is one of the most difficult tasks in the world. You have to figure out how to get to places, where the grocery stores are (…where the redbulls and hot cheetos are located… ), where to eat, how to make friends all over again, where to go when you just want to be alone with nature.
What I didn’t realize would be an even greater struggle is being apart from my family. Ever since my brother passed in 2018, I have made it a priority to help them when they are down. Because of COVID, I spent first semester living with them in NY and it was wonderful. I was lucky enough to have had my sister there as well- she got gypped of her first semester at undergrad & was stuck with me 🙂 Now I’m in FL, and I’m slowly falling in love with it. The onset has been so gradual I hardly know when it began. In fact, I nearly transferred out upon arriving. Some very kind souls, from my PDX prof Dr. Rose who graciously wrote me a LOR, to my current Dean, to my close friends here, all helped me realize that transferring isn’t necessarily in my best interest, especially with the curriculum changes I’d have to sort through just prior to boards. I think the distance from my family is great in some ways, but then come days like yesterday where I question everything~
I woke up with my pillow case soaked in tears. I felt like someone had come and strangled my heart in my sleep, crushing it into as many pieces as possible. I felt a weight on my forehead, so heavy I couldn’t lift it. At first, I didn’t realize where this all came from, as I’ve been bursting with love and joy these past few weeks. Then I realized it’s nearly April. My brother’s birth month. In a few days, if he were still alive, he’d be turning 25. Maybe he even will be turning 25 in heaven, I don’t know how it works up there. What kills me inside is that I can’t be with him. That I can’t trade places with him. That life was stripped away from him when he was only 22. That I lost my best friend in life. I thought about all of this when I woke up, with my OPP lab for med school starting in 20 minutes. If I didn’t leave right then, I’d be late. I looked into the mirror and barely recognized myself – puffy, red eyes, my hair stuck to my face because of the tears. I had a pounding migraine. I called my mom. She wrote me a (fully qualified and honest) doctor’s note about my lack of sleep and migraine to excuse me from lab. But I couldn’t even bring myself to tell my mom about the reason for my tears, because if I did, she would be crying for the next week nonstop– this has happened many times before and it breaks me apart every time. I just didn’t tell anyone at all. For so long here in FL, all I’ve wanted is to connect with others, yet today, I felt an overwhelming desire to be alone.
I miss him every day. Today has been especially hard. I haven’t left my bed for 24 hours now. Something about this loneliness feels beautiful though- as if I’ve been beautifully broken open, and am now able to experience the depths of life.
I spent most of the day listening to lectures from my Respiratory prof, Dr. Mayrovitz, and never have I loved someone’s teaching so much at this school. He’s a more conceptual teacher, and I’d take this any day over the constant memorization. I’m doing research with him as well (and one of my best friends at the school!) which I’m incredibly excited for. Another piece of good news is that I’ll be teaching yoga again soon! Yoga IS my mental health, and teaching brings that to a whole new level. Every time I teach, I fall a little more head-over-heels in love with life.
Lastly, I realized in the past few weeks (s/o to my IV/catheter & blood draw clinics) that I want to go into a field where I get to work with blood (very weird fun fact, but I love dealing with blood), and save lives directly. Whereas I’d normally go for surg, my main priority after school will likely be to start my own family/choose a field where I can also raise kids– and because of this, I think emergency is perfect. I’ve changed my mind 1mil times, so we’ll see where I actually end up…
P.s. I want to apologize to those who have sent messages I have yet to answer. Med school is really time-consuming, and we’ve gotten no break. Last week, I went 77 consecutive hours without sleep (not even a nap). For every time it looks like I have a social life, I’m actually just adding more and more onto an already full plate (sometimes, it’s worth the trade-off). I’m sending all of my love out to anyone who actually reads this ❤
Med for the Mind 