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prev.cont.The world outside of surgery is more normal and good. It’s just like I remember it, but better.
Today I followed around the pediatrician and pediatric nurse, both of whom were very kind and very excited to teach me things. They didn't judge me for my ignorance or expect anything from me aside from my presence. Being treated with basic respect feels so good!
I was momentarily thrust back into the world of surgery when I was invited to scrub in for a C-section. I watched from the sidelines, just hoping to survive. I was distracted from my torturously exaggerated self-awareness by the surgeon’s performance. It was completely awe-inspiring, different from anything I saw on my surgery rotation. Like a Fruit Ninja, she sliced back and forth through layers of skin and muscle before reaching the uterus and slicing through that too, all in a manner of seconds.
When the uterus burst open, pushing out blood and water with surprising force, the doctor pulled a baby out of the splatter as quickly as she’d made the incisions and handed the slimeball off to the nice pediatrician. It was unbelievable, like watching Picasso casually draw a masterpiece.
Despite the good and normal day, I’m not feeling very good or normal about the future right now. Should I chock that up to temporarily depleted serotonin and try to keep it moving, or is it worth exploring? Let’s go with depleted serotonin.
It all just feels a little daunting. In one month, two months, even 10 months, I will still be in the same phase of life, in the same weird year, still a lowly medical student. That’s a long time. It feels like a long time.
Maybe I should be grateful or something. I should count my blessings or something. I should relish my limited responsibilities and not place so much pressure on myself to achieve things that I can’t even name. Or should I be taking time outside of my above ground duties to think about all the additional things I could do to be a better student, a better worker? Or maybe I should be prioritizing my relationships, putting the work in to connect more with the people around me.
The one thing it seems like I shouldn’t do is vices. Going underground after a long day and wiping away some of my consciousness like sweat. It’s hard to resist when my consciousness is constantly under attack, forced into postures that cripple it. But how else can I escape the feeling that I’m not doing “enough”? I know that “enough” is a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow, always sought but never found. Might as well do vices, then, right? If nothing’s ever going to be enough, why do anything at all?
Is it okay to just get by? My conversation with an orthopedic surgeon yesterday suggested that the answer is yes. She reminded me that all I need to do is pass ("P = MD"), that higher education is the worst, that the dumbest student in the graduating class still gets to be a doctor, and that I should take it easy while I’m still learning.
Sometimes I get exhausted listening to myself talk about medicine so much. Stop talking about medicine. Stop. Talking. About. Medicine. My mind contains way more multitudes than that. But what else is there to say? What else am I supposed to talk about besides the thing I do all day? The weather?
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