limited time
It's hard to believe that it's only been two weeks into the semester. They say that the second year of med school is the hardest, that if you conquer second year, you're basically set for the rest of your med school life. I don't know if that's true but it's only been two weeks and already I want to go on vacation, never mind that the previous one I took just ended a month ago (and lasted for a quarter of the year).
What does second year Medicine have in store? Long exams consistently happen every Monday, the topics of which might as well be some foreign language. Microbiology, parasitology, mycology... I can't even finish the list in anticipation of the impending stress.
In my desire to NOT fail, I spent most of last week preparing for battle. I told myself that every single night, for the rest of my YL6 life, I had to be doing something "productive," like reading a textbook or getting started on a trans. Each minute I spent not doing exactly that felt like a weight on my chest, and I was constantly reprimanding myself for being a slacker. Staying after dinner to chat with Rap: You're going to fail! Doing my grocery shopping: Why aren't you studying!? Scrolling through Facebook: You're being left behind!
It was not a good place for me to be in, hating myself for not being "student" enough. And hell, the year has only just begun.
. . .
On Tuesday, Rap invited me to go and exercise with him after class. I told him that no, I didn't want to. I told him that I had two design jobs to finish, four transes to read, 5 quizzes to take, and a medical write-up to write up. Which were all true, even though the only thing I had to finish that night was the design work.
The next day, he again invited me to exercise, and I brushed him off and told him that I wanted to stop exercising and focus on my studies. He appeared very disturbed by this but didn't say any more on the issue until after lunch, at the nearby 7-11, while I was debating between buying a chocolate soft serve or a big milk tea.
"Aims," he said, very gently and carefully. "Can we talk about that exercising thing?" His tone was calculatedly pleasing, his approach very deliberate. Like the slightest miscalculation in his phrasing, the subtlest slip of the tongue would spell the end of any further negotiation. I felt like a Pokemon in the Safari Zone, and he was holding out the Bait.
The discussion that ensued was a long one. He was very distrubed that I had decided to abandon my health habits, and I was very disturbed that he was insisting I spend some precious time doing non-studying things. In the end I relented, perhaps more out of the desire to end the discussion than to really take care of myself. The agreement was to squeeze in some 30 minutes of exercise every other day (which, in retrospect, I am starting to regret).
The next day, I joined him and Anton for some weight lifting at the gym. Despite the cramps and the soreness and the fact that he had won the battle, I actually did enjoy myself. It only lasted 30 minutes, and I was actually disappointed that it was over. We went to Krispy Kreme afterwards to work on our medical write-ups. It was around 8:30 PM when we got there, and we left at 12 AM. During the walk home, after sharing some thoughts on the differential diagnoses of Mr. Santos, the conversation deepened into something else. We talked about love, about leaps of faith, about believing in some other than yourself. We ended up lingering in the lobby of Rap's condo. It was nearly 2 AM when I went to bed.
I went to bed feeling lighter. As if somewhere along the way home, the weight on my chest had evaporated into the chilly August air. I felt fuller, whole-er, like the rain had washed off some layers of anger and shame, revealing a part of myself whom I had been trying to bury. Those wee hours of the morning are a reminder of the absurd truth that I am a human being. Not a robot whose sole existence revolves around retrieving and receiving information, but a human being who has an obligation to take care of herself as much as she will take care of others.
. . .
Yesterday was dubbed by some as "the longest YL6 day so far." In the morning we presented a bunch of skits about the mechanisms of drug actions (an assignment that was, by the way, only announced yesterday), submitted our (really tedious) medical write-ups, had a quiz, and then toiled away in microbio lab.
Then at the end of the day, there was a big acquaintance party in school, where all the batches gathered to socialize, perform, and eat together. I went home afterwards and read some Kafka on the Shore. Past 10 PM, I caught up with Alich, Gio, and Rap at the nearby seedy foodcourt where they had already downed a bucket of beer. It had rained that afternoon, so the air was very chilly. I had two pieces of delicious siomai. We opened a bottle of soju (Korean sweet potato liquor) and mixed it in with some Yakult, and the resulting mixture tasted "like Yakult." There was some talk of med school, but most of it was about pro wrestling.
When I woke up this morning, Ninoy Aquino Day, it was 10 o'clock. I ate a big breakfast (blueberry and cream cheese) and spent some time crawling through Facebook. I am glad for the holiday, for the chance to breathe and slow down.
At 10:30 I worked on my trans. Not as a med student, but a human being who (continuously) chooses to study medicine.
In my desire to NOT fail, I spent most of last week preparing for battle. I told myself that every single night, for the rest of my YL6 life, I had to be doing something "productive," like reading a textbook or getting started on a trans. Each minute I spent not doing exactly that felt like a weight on my chest, and I was constantly reprimanding myself for being a slacker. Staying after dinner to chat with Rap: You're going to fail! Doing my grocery shopping: Why aren't you studying!? Scrolling through Facebook: You're being left behind!
It was not a good place for me to be in, hating myself for not being "student" enough. And hell, the year has only just begun.
. . .
On Tuesday, Rap invited me to go and exercise with him after class. I told him that no, I didn't want to. I told him that I had two design jobs to finish, four transes to read, 5 quizzes to take, and a medical write-up to write up. Which were all true, even though the only thing I had to finish that night was the design work.
The next day, he again invited me to exercise, and I brushed him off and told him that I wanted to stop exercising and focus on my studies. He appeared very disturbed by this but didn't say any more on the issue until after lunch, at the nearby 7-11, while I was debating between buying a chocolate soft serve or a big milk tea.
"Aims," he said, very gently and carefully. "Can we talk about that exercising thing?" His tone was calculatedly pleasing, his approach very deliberate. Like the slightest miscalculation in his phrasing, the subtlest slip of the tongue would spell the end of any further negotiation. I felt like a Pokemon in the Safari Zone, and he was holding out the Bait.
The discussion that ensued was a long one. He was very distrubed that I had decided to abandon my health habits, and I was very disturbed that he was insisting I spend some precious time doing non-studying things. In the end I relented, perhaps more out of the desire to end the discussion than to really take care of myself. The agreement was to squeeze in some 30 minutes of exercise every other day (which, in retrospect, I am starting to regret).
The next day, I joined him and Anton for some weight lifting at the gym. Despite the cramps and the soreness and the fact that he had won the battle, I actually did enjoy myself. It only lasted 30 minutes, and I was actually disappointed that it was over. We went to Krispy Kreme afterwards to work on our medical write-ups. It was around 8:30 PM when we got there, and we left at 12 AM. During the walk home, after sharing some thoughts on the differential diagnoses of Mr. Santos, the conversation deepened into something else. We talked about love, about leaps of faith, about believing in some other than yourself. We ended up lingering in the lobby of Rap's condo. It was nearly 2 AM when I went to bed.
I went to bed feeling lighter. As if somewhere along the way home, the weight on my chest had evaporated into the chilly August air. I felt fuller, whole-er, like the rain had washed off some layers of anger and shame, revealing a part of myself whom I had been trying to bury. Those wee hours of the morning are a reminder of the absurd truth that I am a human being. Not a robot whose sole existence revolves around retrieving and receiving information, but a human being who has an obligation to take care of herself as much as she will take care of others.
. . .
Yesterday was dubbed by some as "the longest YL6 day so far." In the morning we presented a bunch of skits about the mechanisms of drug actions (an assignment that was, by the way, only announced yesterday), submitted our (really tedious) medical write-ups, had a quiz, and then toiled away in microbio lab.
Then at the end of the day, there was a big acquaintance party in school, where all the batches gathered to socialize, perform, and eat together. I went home afterwards and read some Kafka on the Shore. Past 10 PM, I caught up with Alich, Gio, and Rap at the nearby seedy foodcourt where they had already downed a bucket of beer. It had rained that afternoon, so the air was very chilly. I had two pieces of delicious siomai. We opened a bottle of soju (Korean sweet potato liquor) and mixed it in with some Yakult, and the resulting mixture tasted "like Yakult." There was some talk of med school, but most of it was about pro wrestling.
When I woke up this morning, Ninoy Aquino Day, it was 10 o'clock. I ate a big breakfast (blueberry and cream cheese) and spent some time crawling through Facebook. I am glad for the holiday, for the chance to breathe and slow down.
At 10:30 I worked on my trans. Not as a med student, but a human being who (continuously) chooses to study medicine.
Good for you, Aims! :) I had hoped to see you during the block breakfast! but it sounds like you really needed that extra bit of sleep. :D maybe next time!
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