So yeah…I seem to be a
master god in figuring out how NOT to do things. It’s a truly great skill:
When I was 6, I remember being told to go and play on the slide at the park. Using my amazing sense of intuition and judgement, I started slowly walking UP the slide, because that’s OBVIOUSLY how slides work…the kid who was at the top and decided to slide down and crash into me was BLATENTLY doing it all wrong…(>.<)
When I was 9, I learnt that when you attempt hurdling at your school sports day, tripping up over all the hurdles is a highly ‘admirable’ way of
consolidating screwing up your reputation at the school forever…
When I was 13, I began my wonderful series of mishaps with the opposite sex by giving a girl a box of chocolates, a card and a love poem…turns out that teenage girls really couldn’t care less for that romantic ****. Hilariously though, other guys who were considering doing the same then changed their tactics…
Two years ago, I discovered that being a male student doctor is simply NOT a good way to get experience on a gynaecological placement…although it is a good way to spend time observing walls, if you require such experience.
Today, I felicitously found that despite following a patient from their arrival in A&E to their discharge, watching all investigations and treatments done to them, speaking with all the doctors involved and learning everything that I thought I needed to know to present this patient for my CbD case and practising with everyone I could find who was going to listen; I still walked out of the CbD examination room with the words “you’re meant to be a 3rd year medical student…why have you done so badly??”
…considering that the CbD is one of the main examinations for the rotation and that I had spent so much time learning and working hard this term, it felt like a mild headache…you know, the one you would get when an giant scapel blade cuts through your neck and decapitates you.
Obviously, despite my desire to tell the world of how
amazing it is to spend time with a wall, example 5 is the crux of this blog post. That happened 4 weeks ago. Since then, I do what I do best: distraction therapy; spend my time trying to run away from real life…hence why I haven’t posted anything for a while and I apologise to anyone who I may have been disappointed by my lack of posts…*giggles* yeah right (-.-).
Medical school to a student doctor is like what a vagina is to sperm: sometimes it creates an INCREDIBLY HOSTILE environment that destroys you. Other times, it will let you through. You can try your best and wiggle that flagellum all you want, but sometimes it is just out of your control.
‘Everyone has good days AND bad days‘. That’s not just a cliche about life; it is a completely factual description of LIFE. I accept that, despite my best efforts, I screwed up my CbD and I’ll take the criticisms I was given and work on them for next time. But I’ve been in med school for 6 years and seen 2 year groups, who I was a part of once, become fully fledged competent doctors…in fact, I now get taught by a few of them…which is a good thing because they are all fantastic people. But I can’t help but note that a majority of the past 6 years have been BAD days…if I had to say a single quote to sum up these past 6 years, it would be: “For some people in life, their whole purpose is to simply serve as a warning to others.”
So…after 3 weeks of
distraction therapy sleep, it has finally dawned on me that I must return to this world of ‘bad‘ days…that and the fact that I have a full 2000 word essay to write which is due in 2 days time…
What am I going to do? I’ll tell you:
I am going TO CONTINUE SHOWING EVERYONE JUST HOW AMAZING I AM AT FINDING WHAT DOESN’T WORK IN LIFE!!! (^o^)
I could sleep even more. I could wallow in this depressing time of my life. I could moan and whine and waste more of my time. I could get counselling. I could get drugs (tricyclic anti-depressants, SSRI’s, anxiolytics…or alcohol for that matter). I could get up and try and figure out why these bad days are so common and why the good days are so few and far between. I could try and find another career. I could leave my family. I could run away. I could commit suicide…but I have already done many of these things over a period of nearly 10 years now and yet I am still in the same position.
The average world human life expectancy is 67.2 years (according to data gathered from 2010). If my calculations are right, that’s 35320320 minutes…(I
happily await the endless barrage of complaints and corrections that this calculation will bring from those of you who are reading this post).
I have wasted 5256000+ minutes being unhappy/depressed/sad/whatever you want to call these negative mental aspects of living life. Like I said before, ‘everyone has good days and bad days’. It is inevitable that minutes will be wasted being unhappy/depressed/blah blah blah, etc. But 5256000+ minutes seems stupidly excessive and that number will only grow…
If “his whole purpose in life was to simply serve as a warning to others” is going to be my epitaph and gravestone inscription, then I am going to make sure that I become the BIG BOSS in that area:
I shall become the BIG CHEESE of ‘bad’ days, the TOP BANANA of failure and the SUPREME CUCUMBER of finding out what does not work.
Most importantly of all, I am going to make these ‘bad’ days HILARIOUS by whatever means necessary (^.^).
P.S: To avoid any misinterpretation of that last paragraph, essentially I shall try my best to be the best student doctor, son, brother, friend, colleague, human, example of life and so on, that I can be.