Uncertainty. As a type- A personality who likes to feel in
control, it is my worst enemy, but as an international medical student, it is
something that I, as well as all of my colleagues, have become quite familiar
with. Currently, I’m at my mom’s house in Minneapolis studying for STEP 1 (the
first in a series of US medical licensing exams). Originally, I had planned to
take it in the beginning of March, with the intent of starting my clinical
rotations soon thereafter. Well, as usual, life took the reigns and gave me
some pretty good indications that I needed to take a bit of a break and,
instead, push my exam back to April. First, as many of you know, I arrived back
to the States with an additional companion, my dog Fenway. Now, I absolutely
love her to death; however, the adjustment of 1. Having a dog, and 2. Living
with my mom and her dog, took some more time than I anticipated. Additionally,
my brother and his girlfriend (now wife) of nearly 8 years got married in the
middle of January. As much as I planned to study non-stop during the weeks
leading up to the wedding, and even the weekend of, it didn’t
actually happen. I was too excited and had too much to do. Throw in there a bit
of: getting together with friends and family I hadn’t seen in months or years,
enjoying some time to read books for fun, and exploring parts of Minneapolis
and St. Paul that I hadn’t seen before, and you’ve got a lot of time spent not
studying. Really long story short, I didn’t realize how much I just needed that
downtime, and knew I would not be ready to take my exam in March. We’ll see how
I feel once it’s over in April, but for right now, it absolutely feels like I
made the right decision. It does; however, bring me back to my original point-
uncertainty.
Most students at United States medical schools have a
structured time window in which they are expected to take STEP 1. Technically,
I do, too; however, it’s a little different. Upon finishing our Foundations of
Medicine curriculum in Dominica, we are required to sit for STEP within the
next 6 months. From there, assuming we pass, we start our 3rd and 4th
year clinical rotations. All of this seems pretty certain, right? I mean,
finish in Dominica, go home (or wherever one plans to study for STEP), take the
exam, complete clinical rotations, graduate, start residency, boom, you're done. If only it were
that simple. You see, prior to starting rotations, we are required to complete a
6-week pre-clinical clerkship in Miami, FL. A very necessary clerkship in which
we, as international students, become more acquainted with the hospital systems
here in the US, work through simulated cases with our colleagues, and begin our
clinical rotations in a Miami clinic. That being said, it’s only 6 weeks.
Enough time to sort of get settled into an apartment, but not entirely, knowing
that soon thereafter a move will be warranted. A move to where, you ask? Well,
here enters the second phase of uncertainty. We don’t find out until 1-2 weeks
into our time in Miami. For me, personally, based on when I will be there, I
could be anywhere from Chicago to Maryland for the next two years. Toward the
end of those rotations, I begin applying for residency, essentially my first
job, in locations, again, scattered around the country. For those of you who
have known me for a while, you know that I have moved (not necessarily cities
or states) every year at least once since I graduated from high school.
Granted, I know many people who are in the same boat, and I am incredibly excited to begin working with patients, but boy am I ready to
just be in one place and stay there.
Ironically, I spent the majority of my
first 25 years wanting to get out and move; experience something different. I
grew up in a suburb of Minneapolis, went to college at the University of
Minnesota in Minneapolis, and worked for 3 years after college in a suburb of
St. Paul; basically all within an hour of the Twin Cities in Minnesota. I was
ready for a new adventure; you know, new scenery, new people; a fresh start. I
went into my opportunity at Ross with a completely open mind and a nervous
excitement that I had never before experienced. In retrospect, this attitude
and approach is what made my time in Dominica as amazing as it was. You’ve all
read about my experiences with various bugs, the times without water or
electricity, and the constant rain, but when I look back on all of it, I can
honestly say it is one of the most influential experiences of my life. Not only
did I get to embrace a completely different culture, but I also had a chance to
learn a lot about myself; things that I would have never known without my time
there. It also taught me, as I’ve mentioned numerous times before, how much I
value people and my relationships with them. When I say that I don’t intend to
focus on any one or group of relationships, I mean all of them; anybody who has
been a part of my life and impacted it in some way. The thing I realized while
away and since I’ve returned is that most of those people are here in
Minneapolis, and that, on top of many other reasons that I have re-discovered in
the past couple months, makes me say for the first time, that I really don’t
want to leave again. Not only that, but I want the certainty that I don’t have
to. Unfortunately that’s not an option. I’ve expressed this sentiment to a few
people in the last couple weeks, and every single one them reacted with, “You can’t quit. I’m not going
to let you quit.” For those of you who told me that, thank you, very sincerely, but I assure you that I have absolutely no intention of quitting. Not only have I put
far too much into this to throw it away, but I also love it with all of my
heart. I do; however, have it in my head now that I may want to move back
someday.
With all that being said, I know I’m not the only one of my
colleagues who feels this way. As I mentioned in the beginning, it’s something,
as international students, that we’ve grown accustomed to. We don’t have a “home-base”
university that guarantees where we will spend the majority of our 4 years of
medical school; we learn to adapt. Honestly, though, as scary and frustrating
as it is right now, I think it will end up being one of our most valuable traits when it
comes time to actually handle patients. Medicine, as a profession, is chalk
full of uncertainty. Even in the most straightforward case, a curveball can
come out of left field that throws the entire plan out the window. Knowing how
to handle that, and what it feels like when all of the control you thought you
had is completely lost, is something that I know will help me as a physician
someday. As I’ve worked through these various emotions and have begun coming to
terms with this next phase of my education and my life, I am taken to a
particular movie called The Best Exotic
Marigold Hotel. In it there is this quote, “Everything will be all right in
the end... if it's not all right then it's not yet the end.” Granted, the
definition of “all right” is not black and white; however, since seeing this
movie a few years ago, this is a perspective I have really truly tried to
adopt. Life is life; in the grand scheme of things, there are few things that
we have ultimate control over. In this particular situation, yes, I could quit school
to guarantee that I don’t have to leave Minneapolis, but where does that put
me? I honestly don’t know, but I can say, with such a decision, a lot of other
uncertainties would accompany it. So, at the end of the day, what I am
learning, more than ever, is not to overlook it or try to suppress it.
Experience the uncertainty along with the fear and other emotions that come
along with it because you never know what will come out of those experiences
that at one point were completely uncertain. After all, if I had given into my
uncertainty about Dominica 17 months ago, I would have never met the people I
now call friends and colleagues, nor would I have had the opportunity to learn
about the kind of doctor I someday want to be. As I started doing this earlier
today, allowing myself to simply feel the uncertainty, to let it be exactly as
it is instead of thinking about it and trying to analyze it, the tightness in
my chest went away, and a sense of peace arose in its place; knowing somehow
that everything will work out, whether it’s exactly the way I want it to be/
think it should be or not, exactly as it is supposed to.
With that, I leave you, as always, with all of my love.
