The first few weeks of anything new are always a challenge for me. Call it “culture shock” or “adjusting,” but whatever it is stirs up my feelings of exhaustion, self-doubt, and stress. It’s not an easy time, and I keep thinking I’ll outgrow those difficult feelings. But I have not, and my first month of medical school unfortunately has been no exception. Once the initial excitement of orientation wore off, it suddenly became more difficult to pop out of bed at 6:15am, and the past few weeks have been some of the most difficult that I have experienced in a while.
The lecture classes- Biochemistry, Molecular Biology, and Epidemiology/ Biostatistics- are interesting, but extremely fast paced. Each day I am presented with about 4 hours of new material. Tests happen nearly every week, and most classes end after 1-2 months. In addition to morning lectures, we have afternoon small group activities three times a week. Currently I have an elective in Business & Medicine, an Interviewing class, and “PBL” or Problem Based Learning where we discuss individual medical cases. The schedule changes every week, which makes the adjustment take even longer.
The hurdle of adjustment was combined with some difficult news- my paternal grandmother passed away during my second week of medical school. I found out from my father around 7am, right before I left for school. That day was particularly difficult because I didn’t have a chance to talk about what I was feeling with anyone, and I felt great sadness all day. We had a lecture about “professionalism” that declared that being a good professional means not letting any emotions affect your job. So there I was feeling sad, and then feeling awful for letting my sadness distract me from being a good professional.
I needed to talk with people who knew my grandmother, and it so happened that I had been planning to fly to North Carolina that weekend to be with my mom’s parents to celebrate their 60th wedding anniversary. It was a short trip- less than 24 hours. I flew there on Saturday morning, and flew back on Sunday morning. I had midterm exams in Molecular Biology and Biochemistry Monday and Tuesday respectively. I had prepared note-cards and practice tests, and I took everything with me on the plane. I thought I was doing fine, and I needed to spend time with my relatives after such a hard week.
When I returned, I started feeling sick. I had a head-ache and sore throat that I was trying to ignore. I took my exams Monday and Tuesday, and felt a little nervous about the second exam. I was feeling even worse by Tuesday night. I checked to see if I had a fever, and I did. My throat was burning so I knew I couldn’t deny feeling sick at that point. Yet, I didn’t even think about staying home, which was pretty stupid. During the week I also discovered that my bank had declined my student loan application due to the financial crisis, and I would have to reapply with another bank. Then on Friday morning I discovered that I did not do well on my Biochemistry exam.
The following day was my “White Coat Ceremony” which is a new tradition for medical schools. It is a bit like graduation- there is a motivational speaker, a fancy auditorium, important faculty and staff, families- but instead of diplomas and hoods, students receive white coats. I have mixed feelings about symbols like white coats, but I think social gatherings to honor celebrations and rights of passage are important. My mom flew from Omaha to attend the event, and although I was thrilled to see her, I was not feeling worthy of receiving my white coat after such a depressing week.
Should I really be in medical school? Am I really going to make it through my first year? All these questions of self-doubt filled me. Then, the speaker from California- a lesbian graduate of Tufts medical school- addressed us with personal examples from her career in medicine. I nearly cried during her speech, and truly felt like I wanted to be that type of doctor that she was. Well, I must have been in the right place because by the end of her speech I felt ready to get my coat. I enjoyed speaking with my classmates at the reception, and they helped me feel even better.
Since then, my confidence and health has been coming back strongly. I spoke with the dean and my professor regarding my low test-score, and both seemed surprised that I was so alarmed. My professor told me that the first test grade is no indication of how somebody does in the class or medical school, and he told me that actually I didn’t do so poorly. The dean gave me a list of tutors. I remembered that I had a lot of doubt about making the “grades” in my premed courses, and somehow I kept doing my best and I got here. So, I have to trust that if I keep working hard, I’ll be fine.
It’s just difficult to keep working so hard when it seems like many people around me are science students with ease. Many are naturally gifted test-takers. Medicine is filled with many skills besides taking science-tests, but none of them have been evaluated yet. I am lucky to know several people who are like me- who have a hard time seeing the black and white picture. Medical school probably won’t be the high point in my medical career, but it doesn’t need to be.
Posted by Liz 
