okay, let's do this
On the first day of the second week of medical school, I found myself crying into my turkey sandwich in an unlocked storage closet on the second floor. I'd just walked away from an interaction that left me feeling red hot, blindsided and really really really alone. I reached into my old and used torn up green backpack for the brand new gold journal that my mom had given me 3 days earlier, at my matriculation ceremony. For good wishes and thoughts, she'd said.
I cried harder and pulled it out. I dug for a pen and titled and dated the page. The Worst Decision of My Life - August 11, 2017 - What the hell am I doing here? I have made a horrible decision. I have no friends. Everyone has someone to eat lunch with, except me. I'm crying in a closet next to a mop. I can hear my dad's voice in my ear: stop crying. I thought I wanted to be a doctor. I thought I could do this. Another tear lands on the page.
The day my mom gave me the journal, she also gave me a hanging wall piece that said "Okay, Let's Do This". I'm laughing in the photo as she points out the stain on the front that caused it to be discounted, and caused her to buy it, justifying the purchase as "just one more little thing" in the endless train of small thoughtful and meaningful gifts of the day.
A Matriculation Ceremony is the day that a medical student is essentially officially starting the journey towards physician. We receive short white coats and take an oath, in the hopes that we will grow into long white coats as healing servants to humanity. The white coat is a symbol, of many things. And just like all symbols, wearing the white coat and seeing the white coat means different things to different people. Fear. Pride. Comfort. Worry. Healing.
To me, the white coat symbolizes trust. Professionalism. Commitment. Morality. Service. I am not sure what my mom had intended for me when she gave me the journal and the stained wall hanging that says "okay let's do this." I'm not sure she even knew what THIS we would be doing.
It's been a year and a day of ownership of the coat, the journal and the print, and I'm still not sure what the hell I'm doing. But, I know a little bit more than this girl ^^^. So, to the brand new MS1s, the class of 2022, CONGRATULATIONS DOC! If you find yourself in a mop closet next week crying into your turkey sandwich, know that you're not the first. And know this. YOU ARE DOING IT. You're there. Living your dreams, taking big risks and big debt, working as hard as you can. That's doing it.
Some days it looks like wearing a stethoscope you don't know how to use and a short white coat you didn't earn yet. Some days, it looks like crying on the floor of the Cadaver Lab locker room (would not recommend, shout out to Tosin for at least making me sit on the bench and bawl). And some days, doing it looks like sitting on your porch on the last day of summer break before second year, writing a blog post and sipping coffee. Smiling, thinking about tomorrow. Feeling excited to go back to school and to hug the peer-turned-friend that sent me to the closet in tears, knowing that the title of that journal entry was wrong all along. Knowing, deep in my gut, that I had made the best decision of my life. Second year starts tomorrow, and I'm sure there will be more tears.
Okay, Let's Do This.