The Dream, The Process, and The Outcome

Have you ever woken up one morning and just felt different, or made an executive decision that today was going to be different? That feeling accompanied me this morning…once I made the decision to allow it in. What I have come to find on this island, is that fighting against any of the experiences you have is extremely detrimental. Yes, we’re going to be homesick. Yes, we are going to wish for things that we have at home but can’t get here. Yes, we are going to miss our family, our friends, our significant others, and our pets who remain in a location and an environment that we’re comfortable in, but we cannot let the fact that we miss those things keep us from living our lives to the largest extent possible while we’re here. I know I’ve expressed that already, but it hasn’t really sunk in until now. Over the last couple weeks, I’ve come to terms with where I’m at, and made an executive decision this morning to work toward embracing an attitude that “everything works out in the end.” Anything that I felt tied to at home in the US will either be there when I’m done here in Dominica, or it will no longer be needed for me to continue moving forward with my life. As is said in one of my favorite movies (if you’ve never seen it, watch it!), The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, “Everything will be alright in the end...if it’s not alright, it’s not yet the end.” I do not consider myself to be a very religious person; however, I do believe that there is something bigger. Something that gives life meaning, and serves as a reminder that we are not completely in control of what happens in our lives. As a “scientist,” it is sometimes difficult to accept the idea of a higher power, but there are so many things that no matter how well we plan, decisions and choices have to be made based on what life offers. Do I think we’re completely at the mercy of life? No, I do not. I do; however, think that there are experiences we each need to have, and that these experiences get worked into the decisions we make for our lives. In order to fully appreciate and learn from these experiences, we need to learn how to detach our decisions and happiness from specific outcomes. For example, when I was applying to medical school a year ago, the thought that I would be in medical school in Dominica was the furthest thing from my mind. I submitted my applications early, in July, to various schools throughout the United States in an attempt to give myself the best chance possible of getting into one of the programs as medical school admissions are completed on a rolling basis. Slowly, I began receiving the much dreaded “I’m sorry, but we cannot offer you a spot in the Class of 2018” letters. After receiving the first rejection, I began to feel discouraged about the future of my career. I wasn’t “good enough.” So much of my life had been spent dreaming, planning, and preparing for the day I became a physician. To think that this dream may not come true was devastating. That night, I received an email from the admissions department at Ross University inviting me to apply for the Fall 2014 semester. All the sudden my perspective completely changed. Any ideas that I had about not staying in the United States for medical school, and what that might mean for my future took a complete turn. I began researching Ross, and having formerly worked with a current student, reached out to him for opinions and perspective. No stone was left unturned in my research, and I finally decided that submitting my application could only help increase my chances of pursuing my long-lived goal. It was December 2, 2013. At this point, I knew the likelihood of getting accepted for the following year was low, but when I submitted that application, something about it just felt right. Most of the other people I knew applying for school were already accepted or at least interviewing, and here I was just starting another application. Needless to say, I was invited to interview on January 6, 2014, and received my acceptance less than four weeks later. Elation, gratefulness, disbelief, and shock do not even begin to sum up how I felt. Since that moment, I have continued to feel those emotions, but I have also felt fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear of failure. Fear of losing or missing out on things because I wouldn't be living in the United States. That being said, I have received quite a bit of motivation and pep over the last few days, and wholeheartedly believe that had I not received those unfortunate letters from the other schools I had applied to, I wouldn’t be here, nor would I be having the unique experience I am having.

I decided long ago that I was going to be a physician. Thinking about my future and where I will be, I can’t see myself in a particular place, but I cannot envision myself being anything other than Ashleigh Burt, MD. A few months ago in this blog, I said, “In the long run, what's two years?,” with regard to the time I would be in Dominica. I was right. In thinking about the grand scheme of life (assuming and hoping that my life is not even close to being complete), what is two years? I now know; however, that when placed in a situation or environment that removes you from anything and everything you’ve ever sought for comfort or stability, time has a completely different meaning. In thinking about the last five weeks, it seems like it was a decade ago that I arrived in Dominica and began my new life, but at the same time, it feels like just yesterday. When considering how much material I have learned over the course of three weeks, I feel like I should already be preparing for finals, and yet, it’s only been three weeks. The idea of having twelve more weeks of material to learn in order to continue into my second semester of medical school is extremely daunting, and it’s easy to get caught up in feelings of defeat or being overwhelmed. Within those overwhelming moments, though, are opportunities to do things like sit down for hours and dissect the nerves, arteries, veins, muscles, tendons, and bones of the human body. The euphoria and contentedness that I get when I’m doing THAT trumps anything else. This is what I’m meant to be doing, and I’m slowly learning why Dominica is the place I am meant to be learning how.