From the moment I first walked into the Jordan Medical Education Center that blisteringly hot Monday in August, I knew that I had signed up for a lifetime of learning. Sometimes, however, I find myself wondering if medical school is all that it’s cracked up to be.
Before we reached this point, each of us traversed our own version of the pre-medical journey, making tumultuous stops at r/MCAT, studentdoctor.net or even a gap year or two (or five!). Each successive milestone heralded a rewarding sense of achievement closely followed by a realization that there was much more to come.
It’s easy to feel discouraged watching my family and friends advance through life’s milestones (e.g., promotions, marriage, 401(k)s, kids) while I idle through medical training, with medical school, dual-degrees, residency and fellowship all separating me from my first “real job.” My mind spirals as I am reminded that this is only the beginning. At what point will I ever be there? Does the mythical place of comfort and calm even exist? When do I, a medical trainee, get to start my life?
I’ve come to realize that I’ll never be there. There is no calm coming, no completed to-do list, no release of responsibilities. There will always be one more paper to read, one more case study to prepare, one more patient to check on. One door closes and three more open. I will never simply catch up. Yet I am here, putting one foot in front of the other and loving every single day. From the moment I started this journey, I gave up on being “caught up,” and it has made all the difference.
To love medical school is to love the journey. Like many of my classmates, I sought medicine as a career defined by lifetime learning and the continual pursuit of knowledge. However, these two defining characteristics that guide my yearning toward medicine simultaneously fuel the most difficult aspects of my training. Where I find comfort, and where I hope I can help others to find the same, is through embracing our training as a mountain. Each day we climb, one step after the other, yet our reward lies not with the summit, but within the journey.
To live out this philosophy, I find comfort in embracing work-life balance where I can, putting myself first even if it means watching a lecture tomorrow or ignoring the 100 Anki cards I could do; saying yes to the dinner party, even if that time could be spent at the library. We cannot wait until residency, or fellowship, or until we are an attending physician to start being a human. Go for the hike, meet up for the happy hour and sleep in on Saturdays. We all need to learn to be happy now, so that we can continue to be happy years down the line. Intentionally cultivating the type of work-life balance, integration, or separation that works for each of us is a skill that must be practiced now, because it sure won’t become any easier as we progress. Our colleagues, patients, and loved ones will all be better for it.
As we all approach this final anatomy block, final rotation, or upcoming clerkship, may we all savor the sunrises, snowy peaks and the labor of love that is medicine and medical training. We are never going to be caught up, and that is okay.
Alex Nisbet is an MS1 at the Perelman School of Medicine.
Image by Ayelet Rubenstein, an MS1 at the Perelman School of Medicine.
