There could not have been a worse start to a summer vacation. Especially this one, supposedly a godsend toward the beginning of the end of the 7-year medical curriculum, a turning point in the way evertyhing is done. No more classes or stupid exams, only hospital clerkships and real healthcare work -if we can call it healthcare in this country, not really, but I digress... A month's vacation after a year of hell. If I were to find a way to relate to you what this feels like, I'd tell you to imagine being held captive and tortured with electricity, razor blades, and dripping water for a whole year (because that's all that Med II turned out to be), and then instantly and with absolutely no idea of what's going on, being released on a sandy beach on an insanely sunny day, favorite drink in hand, and then somehow having all the relief, the abatement of torture, and the solace one should find in overcoming such an enormous obstacle, somehow wane and wither in your disbelief-stricken face. Somehow, and quicker than I could realize, something got lost, something just didn't feel right, a few things happened that were not supposed to, more than one thing, actually, and that turned the whole experience inside out. I don't feel it anymore, and I feel that all the hype, the expectations, the hope and anticipation that led up to that Friday when it all ended, have all been turned inside out and their bad parts exposed. Much less excitement now, much less expected.
If I have learned one thing from all this, it's that some realizations stop you in your tracks, like when you realize that you have a bad case of the stockholm syndrome, while others seem to get you going, if only for a little while before they atrociously live up to their time-proven tendency to turn back and bite your hand when least expected, so be ready.
Be ready... It's time I learned that, but this hit me like a truck going 1000 miles an hour.
