Punching in a Dream

It was very familiar with the conversation. The bits of dialogue I overheard, as I was opening my pharmacology book, were scattered with words and phrases I had said myself. Multiple times.

The coffee shop was packed and I had found a table in the very back, sandwiched between a random pillar and the wall, but directly in earshot of a pre-medical student mid-conversation with her mentoring physician.

"Decision letters come out after January."

"...not really sure I could see myself living there."

"I think the interview went well."

"If only my MCAT was one point higher." 

"I just need to get in. Somewhere."

It was surreal. There I was sitting next to a past version of myself. Of all the cafes in Pittsburgh, and of all the tables in that one particular cafe, there she was. The pre-med me. Excitedly and carefully trying to catch the advice of every shape and size this doctor was throwing  at her, like I had done so many times before.

In case you're wondering what those conversations are like, let me fill you in. First of all, as a pre-med student, any interaction you get with a doctor is basically a gift from above. Seriously. Whether it's in an operating room, their private practice, or sharing a beer in Honduras; ANY and ALL forms of contact are cherished. Because they're who "we" (the ever-hopeful, slightly neurotic wanna-be-docs) want to be. So, as you can imagine, those conversations have an agenda. And it goes like this:

1. Prove to them you're not an idiot.
2. Continue to reinforce number one throughout the present interaction and into the infinite future.
3. Ask them all those questions you came up with the night before when you were looking up their medical practice/career history/specialty/sub-specialty/alma mater/dog's name.
4. Impress them so much they invite you to shadow them (THIS is key. It's like the pre-jack pot.)
5. Continue to build bridges and establish a relationship with them so they will one day be able to write you a kick ass letter of recommendation for medical school. (Letters of recommendation ARE the jack pot. They pretty much make the med school application process go round. Well, letters and money.)

Right around the time the doctor (a dermatologist) began telling this girl to take art history classes because it helped her tremendously in identifying patterns in skin rashes (side note: some doctors are full of crap. Also, skin is gross), I put in my earphones so I could study. 

Later I joked that I should have walked over to that girl her and told her exactly what med school was really like and that she could just ignore everything Skin-Doc-Barbie was saying. And driving back home, I thought about what I would have said to her. Which got me thinking about what I would have said to me. The pre-med me. The me who was so focused, and driven and absolutely dead set on medical school that I couldn't even see a future beyond getting accepted. And I think it would have gone something like this.

Listen, I'm only a semester and some change into this mess so I still have quite a way to go, but I love it. Truly I do. But it's hard. Mostly in the ways I had imagined (the lack of sleep, an intense course load, caffeine shakes). But also for some other reasons. Some I didn't think about, or if I did, I didn't think they'd matter to me. First off, it can be lonely. (And I'm really lucky. I've got a lot of fantastic people around, like, all the time). But there is something inherently lonesome about being this busy and this focused. I'm not sure what it is, but sometimes, even when you have no good reason to feel lonely, you do. Second, it's hard watching your friends' lives unfold before you on Instagram and Facebook. To see that they have families and babies and schedules that don't revolve around the next exam, can make you start to doubt yourself and the choices you've made. It's easy to fall into the "I haven't done anything with my life" trap because on the surface, my life looks about the same as it did 5 years ago. I am a student. Still. Granted, I am a student learning how to perform my dream job, and most days I think that is absolutely the bee's knees. But there are times when that doesn't make coming home to your cat after a 14 hour study day any easier. 

I could go on about a lot of other things. About the cost effectiveness of buying certain things in bulk (i.e. yellow highlighters, Monster Energy drinks, dry shampoo). About how important it is to schedule time to talk to friends and family from home. But I think if I could tell pre-med coffee shop girl, and the pre-med me, anything it would be this: that I hope she gets "in." I hope she gets to experience the absolute, and utter insanity that is learning how to become a doctor. I hope that she finds friends at school who are amazing and funny and kind. I hope that she learns to trust in her "plan," and not compare her life to anyone else's. I hope that the very first time a faculty clinician speaks to her as if she has absolutely no business being in medical school, she is able to redirect that criticism to her brain and let it skip her heart. Finally, and most importantly, I'd tell her this: about two weeks ago, when I was having a particularly low moment, I had the realization that the only way life could get any more stressful, any more full of crap, or any more intolerable was if I was not exactly where I was at that moment (which was at my desk studying biochemistry, next to my sleeping cat, at 2:30 am). Because that would mean that I wasn't in medical school. And even amidst the chaos and sleep deprivation, there is still no place I'd rather be, and nothing else I'd rather be doing.