Done

1. Pre-school
2. Kindergarten
3. Elementary school
4. Junior High
5. High School
6. College
7. Medical school
8. Residency

Medical school? Yeah. That happened.

On Friday, I completed 80 consecutive weeks of rotations. In that time I put roughly 20,000 odd miles on my car. I crossed many bridges a couple hundred times and spent too many hours to count stuck in traffic. Thousands of dollars in gas and tolls. Throw in a couple cases of Luna bars, crates of water bottles, a dozen or so shawarmas, bags of Hershey's nuggets, Red Bulls for desperate mornings, passion fruit iced teas while studying for Boards, and highlighters in every color of the rainbow. And I haven't had more than 3 days off in a row since 2010.

But no matter how miserable and exhausted I may have been at a certain point on a certain rotation, looking back on it now, in retrospect, I loved all of it. Clinical medicine has my heart- it makes things come alive in a way that books and videos never will. I should get a bumper sticker that says "I'd rather be on call" because I can confidently say that that statement is accurate nearly 100% of the time. I would so much rather be in the hospital than anywhere else because it's where I'm at my happiest. And I'm really fortunate to have worked with some amazing physicians that have been nothing short of inspiring (more on this in another post). Medicine and I have had a pretty rocky relationship, but I guess you can call me a masochist, because I've never loved it more. There are honestly no words to tell you how much I love what I get to to do.

It's bittersweet though. I know it's entirely my fault- but I feel a little robbed of the celebratory aspect of it all. Yesterday was a gorgeous spring day and when I walked out of the hospital for the last time, I couldn't help but crack a smile- but it wasn't a complete one. Because while I'm done with rotations, I'm not completely free. I have the weight of graduation requirements still hanging around my neck and the entire chaos of sorting things out for this upcoming year. I've always known my next step, so right now I'm feeling a little lost. A LOT lost actually. I'd like to let out a sigh of relief, but I can't. At the earliest, I have to wait until next March. Man. That's a lot of breath holding. Nonetheless, yesterday was not all gloom and doom. I did get to fly a kite with an adorable 2 year old which was more than enough to put a jumbo sized grin on my face. Little kids are fantastic about making you forget about the real world, even if it's just for a few hours.

Graduation is in exactly three weeks. I wrestled with the idea of going vs. not going because while it is a celebratory occasion, for me, it's incomplete. But I only get one graduation from medical school in my lifetime. One chance to walk across a stage and be hooded and have that Doctor of Medicine degree conferred on me. I think I owe it to myself to be there and I'm fairly certain my sentimental soul will regret it if I didn't go. It'll be awkward and bittersweet and I'll probably feel guilty and sad...but my parents and my best friends will be in that audience, and I know on some level they are proud of this milestone, however incomplete it may be. And it's not just MY big day alone. I want to see my friends receive their MDs. Because even though I'm not happy with myself right now, I'm ecstatic for them and I want to be there for them. So I'm going. I have absolutely no idea what to expect, but hell, what about the last four years has been expected? At some point I'm going to have to learn to stop fighting the currents and see where they take me. I hope you guys will stick around for the proverbial ride.

80 weeks of IDs, not one good picture!