See ya in 2012!

I can’t believe that it has been a year already... well not quite a year, but close enough  I landed in Grenada on January 3, 2011 to start this crazy journey.  And here I am... hours away from ringing in 2012.  This will also mark a full year of unemployment, a year out of EMS (I wonder if they’ve recycled my shield number yet)... and while there are a million things swimming through my mind right now- goals, things I want to do better, reflection on the past year’s trials and tribulations, I am completely at a loss for words.  I’m looking forward to 2012, and I am forever changed by 2011... Here’s to a happy, healthy and blessed New Year.  

I'm back!

Wow, I can’t believe that it has been 7 months since my last entry.  Perhaps I should consider a New Year’s resolution to blog more.  Term 1 got the best of me... nearly everything I planned to do- workout every day, blog, take one afternoon a week for myself on the beach, swear off of take-out, did not happen.  What did happen?  I survived it... and I am facing a sad reality that medical school is not quite what I expected it to be.  I expected to work hard, to be challenged by the material, to be pushed to the absolute limit of the amount of material I could possibly digest... but my God!  This was insane!  Quitting my job, leaving my family and friends behind, and moving to another country, all made sense to me.  This was my life long dream, and I was finally living it.  In foundations, I felt like my life was finally coming together, and I knew I was making the right choice.  Throughout term 1, I questioned my sanity weekly, because a sane person does not voluntarily put themselves through this hell.  Considered dropping out every other day- not because I didn’t want to be a physician, because I didn’t want to feel the way I felt anymore.  

Medical school has been described as trying to sip water out of a fire hose, or equated to stacks of pancakes- you have to eat 5 pancakes every morning until the end of term, and if you don’t want pancakes one day, you tell yourself you’ll eat ten tomorrow and take today off from pancakes... next thing you know you have a plate of 50 pancakes you have to eat before tomorrow.  I describe term 1 as hell.  Your own personal, living hell.  For some it may be the amount of work, the challenge of organizing immense amounts of material and making it your own, for others it may be the difficulty of the material.  Some may fall victim to the isolation, and the monotony of a life centered around going to class for 4-6 hours a day, labs, and then studying for another 8+ hours a day... every day.  No weekends, no holidays... those are just days without class, where you find yourself trying to catch up on some of those pancakes you didn’t finnish.  Or those irritating classmates that seem so on top of their shit, with meticulously typed, highlighted notes, with their concept maps sitting in the front row answering every question, and somehow manage to get to the library earlier than everyone, and leave later than everyone... they cause you to question your own intelligence and consider yourself lazy, until you realize they’re popping Adderal like candy, and witness their manic meltdowns (true story).  

I guess what I am trying to get at is that medical school is tough... thank you Captain Obvious.  But not for the obvious reasons, or at least they weren’t obvious to me.  One of my biggest struggles was learning to listen to myself, and trust in what I know works for me, when surrounded by hundreds of “experts”- they’ve read the blogs, or value md, or has a family member in another term, or are doing the term over themselves... People love to give you advice in medical school... take all of it with a grain of salt.  Being able to stay in my own space, and not be affected by how other people are doing in classes.  (One of the things I dislike the most about SGU is that it isn’t pass/fail... that combined with the chips some people carry on their shoulders about being in a Caribbean medical school leads to a less than favorable environment at times).  And to just keep it all in perspective... and as for the pancakes?  I guess I shouldn’t complain, because there are people out there that want a bite more than anything in the world.  And while most days, they make me sick to my stomach, I know I wont have to eat them forever.  

Counting My Blessings

Today, as I was running last minute errands to get my apartment and pets situated for my upcoming trip home, I received some very upsetting news:

“At the present time (June 2011), the US State Department is not issuing B-1 visas to non-US medical students for the purpose of clinical training in US hospitals. The University is in continuing discussions with the US State Department to address this issue.  Until further notice, with the exception of Canadian students, all non-US SGU students will be placed in  affiliated hospitals outside the US for their clinical training program.”

I, as a American, am obviously not affected by this directly, but if affects close friends of mine, and countless of other students not only in my program, but other foreign medical schools.  Please understand, I do not consider myself an expert on foreign policy in any way, shape, or form, nor do I care to debate the politics of immigration.  But this really disappoints me... it angers me!  We are closing our shores to students pursuing higher education, one of the most advanced and competitive degrees one can obtain.  Students who are coming to the U.S., working and training in largely under-served areas, neighborhoods that most U.S.-trained med students wouldn’t even consider working in.  The majority of these students have very little intention of staying here, they just want an opportunity to have a well-rounded medical education, maybe experience the joys of studying abroad for a bit, and go back home to serve their own communities.  And so what if they wanted to stay, they’d be doctors!  Last time I checked, we had a shortage of physicians in this country, particularly in primary care, which is what most foreign graduates specialize in.  So how is this in any way beneficial to anyone?  I’d take a foreign medical student any day over any of the worthless U.S.-born garbage polluting our trailer parks and projects, contributing nothing other than more lives that they are not responsible for to society... yeah I said it.  

Anyway... Fuming from the news, I decided to take my dog on a walk, choosing a different path as we often do.  Passing many million dollar villas (I live in a ridiculously posh little area of Grenada, NOT purposefully), we stumble upon this point, with amazing views of the coast and the ocean- I’ll make a point of going back tomorrow with a camera.  I let Chloe explore off-leash for a little, while I kick around in the dirt searching for seashells, and it hits me- how fortunate I am.  I’m not saying this was a life-altering “Ah-ha” moment or anything, but really... I feel truly blessed.  Other people may see attending medical school in the Caribbean as a career destroying death sentence, or as some sort of failure.  But my being here is not out of rejection, I made a deliberate choice to not apply to medical schools in the US.  I saw the application process destroying friends of mine, and the ugliness of the competitiveness, and the pain of the rejection, and wondered why anyone would put themselves through it.  Then I visited a friend in another Caribbean program, and had the time of my life, surrounded by brilliant and interesting people, in a beautiful environment.  And I came home and knew where I was meant to be.  Of course there were other factors in this decision- my age, what I believed my overall chances of getting into a US school were, particularly wanting to stay in NYC... going to the midwest, or out of state even, wasn’t something I was willing to consider.  So I chose an option that I thought would allow me to start school right away, and end up back in NYC for rotations if that’s where I ultimately decide I want to be.  And again, this was my choice, for myself, and certainly not necessarily what I would recommend to anyone, or encourage anyone against doing.  I believe that this process is just that, a process... a long one at that, and requires a great deal of reflection and re-evaluation every step of the way.  But I also believe that if this is your dream, it is possible, it just may not happen in the “traditional” way.  So, I applied to two schools, got into both, and chose the place I felt was better... and from there it was like I was living someone else’s life, or maybe it was that  I was living my own for the first time.  But things really became different for me... no more constant struggling against my job or loathing what my life had become.  I was doing what I wanted to do, and working towards what I truly feel I was put on this planet to do, in a more tangible way than ever before.  Whatever your idea of fate, or belief in a higher power may be, I  subscribe to the notion of some form of destiny, or everything happens for a reason.  My personal experience has been that the more confusing and unexpected the journey is, the better it ends up being for you, and the more meaningful.  So I find myself here, on this point in Grenada, with a dog (she chose me by the way, on my way to the study hall), at this university that has proven to be just what I needed on so many levels thus far, far away from home, yet living in one of the most beautiful places I could ever hope to be.  And while my country’s policies anger and disappoint me at times, I am proud and lucky to be an American who can travel and live anywhere in the world, without difficulty.  I am blessed with the most supportive and understanding family anyone could ask for, who has done everything in their power to support me on this journey.  And I am thankful for some of the most understanding friends, who love and accept my crazy ass, and forgive the extended absences in communication during school.  I’m a lucky woman.  

Gotta Start Somewhere...

I’ve been dabbling with the idea of starting a blog for years now.  Initially, as a pre-med post-bacc student, while I was working EMS in the greatest, yet most ineffective in delivering medical services, city in the world- New York.  Blogging at the time seemed like an effective outlet for my frustrations and discontent with the limitations of a potentially great system.  A system that could make a difference in so many people’s lives... a system that has become no more than glorified medicaid taxi service, filled with disgruntled souls. Many are brilliant clinicians who are just burnt out on the bullshit, others, a newer, younger generation, are the protocol-spewing drones of the fire department, that I wouldn’t allow to treat a dead dog.  

I thought of blogging again, while I was applying to medical school, to document what I deemed an improbable journey for me... a mediocre GPA, plagued by countless semesters of average-destroying unofficial withdrawals, and physics repeats without breaking a C.  For the record, anyone who tells you a strong MCAT score makes up for poor or inconsistent academic performance in undergrad, is smoking crack. 

And finally, after acceptance into the Charter Foundations Program at St. George’s University.  I wanted to share my experiences, document this journey, the building of a strong medical student from shaky beginnings.  But as with most things in my life, I would always get really excited about the idea of something, and then ultimately loose interest or procrastinate.  

So here I am, in probably my last summer of freedom for a while.  I have completed the Charter Foundations Program, and will start term 1 in a few short months.  Driven by the requests of some friends, a lack of employment, and for once a great deal of free time on my hands, I guess I can finally blog.  I hope for it to be entertaining, informative, heck even inspirational, because seriously if I can do this after a decade-long detour, anyone can.