Exhausted

I'm so tired of studying and I still have tonight plus two more days to go. And I need to know way more if I hope to pass my first semester of med school.

Mostly doubting myself.

Here we gooooooooooo

I'm actually in relatively safe territory for these finals. I have a 78 in Anatomy (brought down by our last exam) and an 82 in Histology (brought up by our last exam). Oh, and an 81 in Embryology. I've been told that if you have a low- to mid-B, you're probably safe. I just have to study constantly forever and learn everything.

But then again, I might just fail out of med school... And go work at Disney World...

The Final Stretch

Well, I made it this far. Two weeks from tomorrow, I'll be back in the States. Of course, before that, I have to make it through my finals. Aside from one embryology lecture tomorrow, all of this week is review. I just have to get all of the information from the past three months and cram it into my head. It's already there, you say? Oh, okay. Guess I don't need to study.

I've developed memory tricks over the course of the semester, but it wasn't till halfway through that I became more adept at making them. At first, it was a lot of straight up memorization, which just so happens to make my list of things to avoid having to do if possible.

So now I'm having to start making memory tricks for the things we learned early on. So hopefully studying will become progressively easier as I near the actual test day.

And I know I've probably said it before on here, but it is really hard to go through such a big transition as moving to an island for medical school and not have a pretty white girl to have a crush on. I mean really. It's actually a way that I've emotionally coped with much of my life. And when I didn't have a crush, it was always more difficult, emotionally. I have that part of my brain that has nothing to occupy it. And the natural urge is to try to fill it with something, but then it becomes superficial and objectifying, so I have to say "no" to all of that and it just doesn't feel as good.

Transition is difficult, folks. I probably won't feel okay about living here until it's time to leave. Such my current life.

What I'm Learning From Ferguson

I often like to say that my family is racist and sexist and also offensive to other cultures. But really, that's not quite true. See, for the most part, my family is like me. While we do get caught up in white privilege and whatever, that's more of a surface-level thing, a superficial social mask like when guys manage to have full conversations consisting of "hey bro what's up" and such while never actually communicating an idea. It's just a social thing because we've all talked to black people and people from other cultures, and we would therefore have to be idiots to think that they are in any way inferior to white people.

But what I've seen more and more is that the current culture isn't like my family, That superficial social mask apparently isn't a mask at all; it has become deeper than that, deep enough to penetrate their actions towards others.

So here's why I hate this racism.

I love to make racist and sexist jokes and belittle other cultures that are foreign to me. Because we all know that we're all human, just with different cultures and bodies.

But somewhere along the way, people apparently forgot that different people are still people, regardless of how different they are.

And because of this apparent loss of critical, fundamental knowledge, I can't make the same jokes. The jokes I make that should in reality be making a mockery of myself for judging on such unimportant attributes instead become cruel jokes at the expense of others because so many people do, in fact, judge based on such unimportant attributes.

A person's a person. I thought we all learned this from Dr. Seuss, but this whole Ferguson ordeal is showing that a great portion of the world is still quite juvenile in their thinking.

OOOooooooohhhh

Got a pathetic 87 in FCM. Roommate got a 93 'cause I taught him (and kinda forced him to memorize) the answers to the harder question.

I need to stop comparing myself to others, rather than just learning and working hard. It's just difficult when people talk. And speaking of which, why does everyone here feel the need to talk so much? Is it a cultural thing? The need to fill the air with something, even though it's worthless? And when I try to find time alone, why do people sit next to me and try to start conversation? For the ones that know I'm an introvert, SURELY THEY KNOW THAT INTROVERTS DON'T LIKE POINTLESS CONVERSATIONS!

Yet here we are, in a world with worthless words and overly-abundant company.

Anyway, we have three weeks of school left. Gross Anatomy lectures are finished. It's all review lectures now. Histology has a few more lectures, then review. Last block exams are on Thursday and Friday, followed by a week of review, and then our finals with their shelf exams.

I'm three weeks away from going back to the States. Three weeks from unemployed peasant life being a relief again. Five weeks from being with relatives who will throw down shame on me because I may make C's this semester unlike my cousin. Six weeks from New Years, and a few more days from then until I'm back here. Oh no!

Distancing From Friends

I have a habit of distancing myself from friends that don't seem beneficial to me. If a given friend doesn't sharpen my wit, lead me into a deeper spiritual understanding somehow, or generally doesn't really make me a better person by being around them, I will usually not try to be around them. This habit, coupled with the fact that I generally don't try very hard to stay in contact with most people, means that I don't have many close friends. Very few, in fact.

Even today, I was thinking "this friend isn't really doing much to make me a better person, so maybe we should stop being friends so much..." but then I decided against it. I made this decision because I realized that I'm at a good point where I'm not going to be dragged down by anyone, which means I can pull other people up. I assume.

I've been napping after dinner for the past two days. I studied less after classes but I also listened pretty well in class. The naps have led to slightly later nights, but still feeling about the same in the morning, so I dunno. I used to be a prodigy with naps, but without the ability to control the feel of the room in terms of lighting and some decor, I dunno... The #blanketfort was so powerful...

In any case, I have one week till I take my last block exams, and two more weeks after that until I finish my first semester of medical school.

Oh, and my visa was approved today, so that's something.

Stress Dreams

As much as I wanted to make light of it, our FCM final was a big deal. All the upper meds said not to worry much about it; no one ever failed the FCM 1 final. But when your entire grade for a class is based on your performance in the space of 15 minutes, the pressure can't help but build. We were given 20 relatively simple questions ahead of time that were derived from our lectures, and all we had to do was show that we knew three randomly selected ones on the day of the exam. I was in one of the latest block times, 4 PM (the first were at 2 PM) which meant that I was to panic and study and let anxiety build for two hours. I was fairly relaxed at first, but with that much time to wait, the sympathetic nervous system just kinda takes over.

I forgot two small points in front of two of the professors (each of the three questions had its own professor, and you randomly selected the question itself when you first walk into the room), but some were over-eager to give them to me, so I couldn't really tell how they assessed me. This is the only class that I could possibly make an A in, and I had grown fond of the idea of doing so. That created stress. So last night, after all of the testing was done, I briefly napped (which I've become better at since I've learned to disregard my roommate in my mind) and then, later that night, found that I could not get to sleep until far past the reasonable hours. My mind would not shut up. Then, when I finally did get to sleep, I had school stress dreams, which involve signing up for a class and then forgetting you did so.

Anyway, back to the grind. Hope I made an A but maybe I made a C... Who knows...

A Protestant, a Catholic, and Two Muslims Walk Into a Bar...

I made an 81 in Embryo, same as last time, but only studying for a weekend instead of a full week, so suck it.

Also I had a theological discussion with a Protestant, a Catholic, and two Muslims today. The topics varied, but I learned that, at least for these Muslims, Jesus was not only a great prophet for them but also their Messiah. They just think that our Bible was corrupted over time, and that Mohammed made the final version that couldn't be corrupted again. This brought up the idea from them that Paul (who wrote most of the New Testament) wrote the books 200 years after the time of Christ. This is just plain incorrect, of course. Paul hung out with Jesus' disciples as they preached the gospel, and that only happened because Jesus showed up and talked to Paul to convert him.

Anyway, really cool discussions today and I hope they happen tomorrow. They're a breath of fresh air for me.

Oh Oh Oh... (We're Learning Cranial Nerves)

Another of these awful back-to-back test weeks. Last weekend was spent studying for the hardest classes (Histology and Gross Anatomy). This past weekend was spent studying for Embryology. Though embryo should really be easy, it is taught by a professor who doesn't really teach. He just reads off the slides in no particular order. Maybe I failed, maybe I passed. I'm tired of making that a consuming part of my mind.

So now we have two and a half weeks until the next exams, which happen to be the last exams before the finals, which are cumulative and are followed by shelf exams. Shelf exams are from the actual Step 1 exams, questions recently discarded to make way for new questions. In this way, shelf exams are actually kinda the best assessment for us on how we're doing in terms of preparation for the test that will push us toward being real doctors.

I say all that to say that we finally get to party a lil' this weekend. Karaoke on Friday baby! I befriended the IT guy (not that hard since we're both white, a kinship formed when you're in the minority for the first time) and he sent me a schedule of weekly events, one of which is karaoke.

Oh, also, it's really difficult to be in school without having a crush. I just can't even remotely consider anyone here, not really. Race, culture, religion, drinking habits, and level of attractiveness are all big factors, of course, and this isn't the island to find the perfect match for those. And since God has done a remarkable job of crafting me into a (kinda) good student and a stronger Christian while I've been here, it's not like I'd be likely to even pretend to go for any kind of fling. I must admit, I like to flirt like cray-cray, but this just isn't the place or time in my life. I have to be stiff with women here. Both because I'm attractive and don't want anything to happen and because I'm a witness. As one of maybe 30-50 Christians (possibly a generous estimation) on campus, I am the only Jesus some of these people are ever going to see. And it's a burden. So it's hard to keep my last thoughts at night as pure as they should be, though I mostly do, which keeps them from getting into my subconscious and therefore my dreams.

Being a single Christian male is rough, and my guess is that I've got years left to go in this capacity. Because I'm not willing to settle for anything less than precisely who God has for me.

Block 3 (Med 1)

Aside from my absence at church, this block was my best overall. By that I mean that spiritually, physically, mentally, and academically, I did the best I've done since I started med school. I kept my thoughts pure, didn't eat after 9 PM, and used worship to relieve stress the night before tests. Ironically, we were studying the pelvic/perineal portion of the body, so my purified thought life came in the midst of seeing the most genitalia I've seen in such a short time span.

Part of my focus was on pacing myself. Study more and harder every day, then don't burn out the weekend before the exams. Granted, I still burned out to an extent, but not nearly as much as before.

A few new things happened. The night before our lab exam, my roommate had us go through the histology slides without any labels and find the contrasting features that we're supposed to know. I usually used labeled ones for this, but I also usually don't do as well, and I got 10 points higher on the lab portion. The night before the theory exams, I found that I hadn't finished going through all of the slides again, and was forced to speed read through them. And you know what? It was fine. I still slowed down to make sure I knew stuff pretty well, but with so much information to cover, I couldn't just take my time like I've been doing. This brings back a lesson I learned in undergrad: memorization doesn't equate to a lack of real understanding. You can learn even while memorizing; it's usually just a more efficient method.

To clarify for future me or for whoever might feel intimidated or discouraged over this stuff, don't be. I had a really good undergrad, during which time I learned to study very similarly to how I study now. Not quite as much, but nearly. And I'm not making A's. I'm making mostly high C's and low B's (though I finally made a high B in Anatomy this time). So I'm slightly above average in one class, slightly below in another, and right at the class average in the other one. As one professor here told me when we were discussing study strategies, "You don't have to make A's. As long as you get the concepts and understand things, that's fine." Until med school, I'd never had a teacher tell me outright that I don't need to make A's, that A's aren't even necessarily the goal.

In any case, six weeks until I'm done with this semester.

Staying On It

In the midst of preparing for block exams, it's easy to become discouraged. How on earth do other people grasp this material so quickly and easily? Am I not pushing myself hard enough to study at all times? Am I giving in and taking breaks too often? I mean, I'm just trying to keep my body able to continue studying. My brain won't study if I strain everything.

My grades are what they've always been. Lower than others'. Not WAY lower, like they once were, but low enough for me to worry and them not to.

During my senior year, part of what kept me focused was the flashbacks that would smack my mind every time I thought about my mission trip to Uganda. Now, those memories have grown older. The main thing that continues to keep me going is that although this isn't the ideal place to be in life, it is the best place in life for me that I've found thus far. The alternative of life back home is just too awful, in the sense that it's too bereft of significance. Here I'm constantly challenged to know my faith enough to give answer to questions, and everything I'm learning is everything I either do or should care about for my future practice as a doctor.

So I hope I can focus this weekend. For future patients. For my own mental state. And to better myself as a person.

Block 3 On The Horizon

I feel more confident about this block. Exams are on Monday and Tuesday. A week after is the drop date for this semester, when our class gets trimmed down (15 people failed each of our last major tests).

The Oooooooooooooooool' Introversion

I forgot to get back to the ol' blog on that last post. I was frustrated because I'm an introvert and didn't get enough alone time.

Frustrated?

Sometimes, I'm overcome with frustration and don't know why. It's usually about the time when I need to go yell at God. These times came so infrequently during my senior year of undergrad. With regular workouts and #naptimes in the #blanketfort, I always felt relatively balanced. I suppose that I'll always be groaning about the lack of #blanketfort in my life until I have one again.

It's beginning to bother me a lot. Maybe if I just write out some problems, this stressful frustrated feeling I have will go away. Basic thing, I don't have access to my friends or family here. Living with my brothers was surprisingly pleasant. They and their friends were always really funny, and although not learning anything sucked, it was usually fun and lazy. I rarely saw my friends, but it was great when I did. Here, I have friends, but they're all brand new and few of them share a very similar cultural background. White Christians from the South are just plain hard to come by, not to mention ones that have worthwhile personalities and a hint of wit to them.

So there's that. There's also my grades. Last block, they plummeted because I couldn't get to sleep when I wanted. I think this was largely due to eating later. I was eating constantly in order to keep myself awake so I would have the energy to keep studying. I also couldn't nap because my roommate had a defined sleeping schedule that does not work well with mine (I need naps like right after class). It ended with me getting little sleep, studying little, and retaining little. And since I am very afraid of failing out of med school, of being proven the academic failure that I usually secretly think that I am, it was a great frustration to be hit with worse grades when I was studying so hard.

I guess I'm just afraid of failing out and frustrated at myself and at my situation. If I had known much of anything in the beginning, I would have gotten a single apartment straightaway. I wouldn't have made as many friends but I would have done better in school. I don't care about friends nearly as much as I care about doing well so I can help future people.

And speaking of living situations, my roommate backed out on our deal of getting an apartment together next semester. It's probably for the best, but I still need a place. We had a nice one picked out, fancier than what either of us was thinking. And I miss having a nice place. When I had a nice apartment, I treated it more nicely. But it's $100 more per month to get a single over there... So I either have to find a new roommate or go to a crappier place or pay a little more per month. Of course, that extra $100 per month will add up to like $1500-ish extra spending by the time I graduate, which could instead be used on, say, a single hotel room rather than a double whenever I do a STEP 1 study program. And I WILL have a single for that.

Still frustrated. I guess it didn't work.

Shut Myself Away

I've been feeling the greater desire lately to avoid friends here. This feeling of always wanting to lock myself away came often during my last semester of undergrad, and I remember the contrast that tended to come over me then. I obviously still wanted to hang out with my friends, but I also just want to shut out everyone and just study forever. Unlike in undergrad, I have new friends here, so I'm not nearly as attached. The prospect of abandoning them to hide and study in my room doesn't sound bad at all, really. It's not like my good friends in college that I knew on such a deep level...

Being isolated on this island really makes it possible for school to be the primary focus. That is, once I can ditch the roommate (next semester can't come soon enough) and make my bedroom into somewhat of a palace. It can't be the #blanketfort, but I bet I can still make it impressive.

Confronting People With Humanity

One of my talents is that I can get anybody to laugh. For instance, one of our more serious professors, who is olde and wizened and wears khaki trousers up to his chin, was asking what the function of the auricles of the heart was. For those who don't know, the left and right auricles of the heart are like little flaps, and these flaps are responsible for secreting atrial natriuretic polypeptide (and because of the change in font, you can tell that I had to look it up again). However, what I said was that the auricles were responsible for flight. He stopped pointing and gesturing and just looked at me and repeated "Flight?" and I, with the projected false confidence learned from years of exposure to science and medicine, responded, "Yeah, to fly" and made a flying motion with my fingers (and didn't include my arms). And then he laughed a small but real laugh, and I won that battle, and everyone there remembered auricles (the name, at least) because of this exchange.

That is an instance of confronting people with humanity. People can seem intimidating. They can come across as jerks or angry or bitter or sad or aloof, and they very well could be at this stage in their lives. But those are all just attributes that are put on top of people. They aren't ever just angry or jerks or bitter or sad or aloof. They're people. And if you can recognize that, you can find the people underneath the circumstance.

I learned this principle while traveling through Europe. In a given day, I could be exposed to a variety of languages, cultures, upbringings, religions, social constructs, and whatever else. But at the end of those days, every single human I met ended up just being a human. They weren't French or Scottish or German or Spanish or Italian or Turkish or perverted or depressed or creepy or old or young or ugly or hot or fat or skinny or tall or short or rich or poor or thieves or generous. They were people. And once you can recognize the personhood behind all of the layers of culture and social norms, you can speak to that. And it will speak back, because we're all humans here. And that's how you confront people with humanity.

Not Wanting To Die

While pondering the reality of what I assumed was about to be my imminent failure out of medical school just before my block exams this week, I realized the weight of it. The shame of failing out of med school is one thing, but I'd get over that and give it to God, whatever. But the really and truly terrifying thought to me was that I'd be forced to go back to a world in which I wasn't learning anymore. If you've talked to me very much at all, you may know that I'm always happy with the idea of death. I don't like dealing with it in other people, but as for me, I would love to die at any time. I'd get to stop dealing with stuff here and hang out with Jesus in heaven (which is why I don't understand peoples' dislike for the notion).

But now, I'm finally learning enough about what I want to learn that I'm actually not wanting to die immediately. My mind is too overwhelmed to be unhappy or to desire contentment. Cramming my brain with information every day is a wonderful thing. It's living a dream that I never really fully expected God to follow through on having me live out. And when I think about the idea of leaving this place and going back to where I was, to what I was doing... Well, that sounds nightmarish #givesmethewillies.

So I guess I'm happier here in a foreign culture as a minority in a great many ways and having to absorb information like a sponge with a fire hydrant. Weird.

Done With Block 2

I finished my second block exam at Medical University of the Americas. I learned that Histology is a much more difficult subject to learn because there is less built-in review and reinforcement, so I spent last weekend on a study binge, trying to go over ALL of Histology and understand it. I studied Anatomy too, but not nearly as much. When I went in to take my Histology exam, I was terrified. I was only sure that I got like four questions right. But lo and behold, I made a 79 on the exam. Anatomy was a sad 74, saved from the 70 by the 80 I made on the lab exam.

But yeah, I was in a zombie state for those tests. I studied all day for three days straight (and had been sleep-deprived, unable to properly get to sleep for the two weeks prior).

I plan to fix my sleeping problems this block (buying Benadryl this weekend just in case) and do way better. My only problem this past block was sleep. My study habits were otherwise golden, I think. Without sleep, I just wasted learning time in the afternoon.

A Christian organization on campus has invited me to their Friday evening stuff, so I'll try for that in the future. Next week, hopefully.

Anyway, after this set of exams, I'm still in an okay range with grades, which makes me think that maybe God isn't suddenly, after having me on this track for 12 years, going to decide that this was all just to prepare me for some other not-doctor thing. That maybe this whole endeavor is a real thing.

The Only Cure

In terms of sleeping schedule, the last two weeks have been awful. My first alarm is at 6:45 AM (which means I'm getting up at 7 AM) and I can't seem to get to sleep at a decent hour the night before. It's usually not till 1 or 2 AM. This leaves me tired, struggling to stay away and attentive through nine hours of class time on campus. So I'm naturally completely destroyed by the time I get home, even though I need to be reviewing the day's lectures and prereading for the next day's (not to mention reviewing the past week's). So when Friday hits, I'm relaxed and overjoyed because I can finally sleep in, allowing me to have enough rest to actually study well.

It should be understood, by the way, that I've never struggled with sleeping. Only with waking up. But my roommate wakes up at dawn to pray and I'm too aware of everything that is, so I'm not able to sleep all the way through the night without a few wakeups. Once again, super weird for me. I don't usually stress out, but maybe this is stress?

I made an 80 on my Embryology exam (2 points below class average), which means I'm still doing pretty well. I have big tests (that I'm currently studying for) on Monday and Tuesday, namely Histology and Gross Anatomy. After I get feedback from these, I'll have a real idea about whether I'm doing med school right.

It's been super encouraging to consistently do as well as my peers. It felt like that was never the case in college, owing to my excellent education and my being a less than excellent student.

Back to my sleeping issue. The main issue, I think, is the roommate. Not his fault, just the fact that I need my own private space and can't have it. Aside from that though, I also found that I have nothing to daydream about. I obviously don't want to think about classes while sleeping, but I don't have a lot of other outside input. I watch Scrubs while eating, but that's a medical show. So the majority of sensory input in my life comes from medical or sciency things, and those do nothing for a good night's sleep. So sadly, my mind often turns to dirty or sexual things, which stinks, 'cause I know that my mind can be pure if I'm disciplined enough. But hey, I'm working on it. My mom advised that I take benedryl at night (melatonin hasn't done the trick), so I'll try to get that in town next week. Until then, liquor is the only cure I've got.

The Week After Blocks Is The Week Before Blocks

We are quickly realizing that med school has no breaks. Last week, we had our first block exams. The rest of the week was new material. We all tried to study over the weekend, but we were just so burnt out that it wasn't really possible. We now have an Embryology exam on Wednesday (we haven't yet been tested on this subject) and Histology and Gross Anatomy the following Monday (the much more difficult classes that we need to focus on). The week after block exams is really the week before block exams.

Medical University of the Americas is working on getting California approval. New York, Florida, and California are major states to get approval to practice in, and California is the only one this school hasn't made it into. One of the apparent requirements to get California's approval is to require 90% attendance for classes. In a given semester, that means that for most classes, we can only miss one lecture. This is a big downer because, particularly for Embryology, time would be better spent studying at home than showing up to class. We spend 10 hours at school every day, minimum. That doesn't include waiting on and taking the shuttle buses or the TA sessions. Then it's going home and working out, then vegging out for 30-60 minutes, then trying to review slides and preread for the next day without passing out. The rhythm I've fallen into is a little over six hours of sleep per night. More or less, and I actually can't focus well in class. However, it also leaves me beat when I get home. I still don't know how to solve that issue...
The dead tired feeling at the dorm doesn't experience relief really, 'cause I have a roommate. I'm always conscious of his presence. I need time by myself. If I could nap and study in my own little area without having to take note of what was going on with him, I feel like I could really be on to something. My study habits would likely improve notably. Next semester, I'll be close to campus with an apartment with MY OWN ROOM, and that should be a game changer. I hope...

It's kind of a constant feeling of being behind. Every bit of info we cover is pretty important for us in the future as doctors, so it's a bad feeling to be behind. I mean, it's not like I want to leave behind any of this info when I'm practicing, yet how could I possibly retain this stuff except by constantly utilizing the information in a clinical setting. Clinicals and residency are the only ways to get this stuff stuck in the ol' noggin. Till then, it's just a desperate struggle to get there.

Half Your Age Plus 7?

It's super hard to write. Spare time is given to shows and reading (for fun) and texting friends. But this is a time of my life that I will hopefully be able to look back on and maybe learn something from.

So my roommate and I have talked some and shared about our faiths. He and I believe super similarly, except that my God is one that I talk to and he worships Allah but can only actually ever hear back from the Muslim pope, who, by the way, he might visit at some point this semester by ditching the island for a weekend to go to Houston. He said that it would be worth it even if he lost a semester of school to the journey altogether. It's apparently like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

I made the class average for both my tests on Tuesday, which is comforting. I slacked off a lil' this weekend, mostly because we had to transition from Block Exams straight to class again. It's like doing finals week and then going back to regular classes. Anyway, kinda back on track now.

Also, I looked up an article on the "half your age plus 7 years" dating rule. My 3-year rule is starting to feel outdated. I seem to still be attracted to the age range that I've been attracted to all my life, I think. Anyway, there's a girl that's too young for me now but their family is in medicine and she's looking to get into medicine too, and in two years the rules will allow me to consider her and it not be creepy. In 4-5 years, I'll be working in residency in the States and maybe some sparks could fly or whatevz. The big attraction points are the strong Christian family, getting along very well with my extreme sarcasm, and, naturally, looks. Those three points, particularly in the variety of Christian, are tough to match up in one human.

Anyway, back to studying.

Tiny Lil' Bitty Update

I made around (one slightly above and another test slightly below) class average. I have a chance at med school. I also talked to Muslim roommate about our beliefs and such. Maybe more on that tomorrow. For now, I have a block party to be at.

If I Fail

Can I talk about fear for a second? Like how afraid I am that I'll do bad on these first tests, this initial proving ground, and that it will result in my inevitable trip back to the States with the process of becoming a doctor further delayed by at least a couple years so I can get a Master's degree to prove my worth again?

I can't afford to ever become arrogant or overly confident in what I've learned. I never learn enough.

And during my study breaks, I don't have ANY of my friends here. I have friends that I've made in the last three weeks, but I've only known them for three weeks AND their cultures differ greatly from my own.

I miss these fears, in a way. But in another way, if I screw up, I'm back to that sorry life I was living, or trying to find a new one, and I don't know if I could bear it. If I dropped out of med school, I think the only thing I could do to feel anything of worth would be to work at Disney World.

I always wish to work there, but it would suck to lose my true calling and have to settle for my secret longing. Some dreams are only meant to be dreamed.

First Step In the Impossible Promise

In my rereading of the New Testament, I've been brought once again to the beloved passage which inspired me through so much of my undergrad education, Romans 4-5. I preached on it in multiple countries as well, though with a degree of fear because it's a faith-based sermon; I haven't entirely seen its fulfillment in me. I don't like to speak about unverified things with such certainty, but hey, that's faith.

In any case, it got me to thinking of the next portion of the Scripture. A fair number of the doctors teaching us casually refer to their god complex. They learn so much and think so highly of themselves that they have to frequently emphasize to us the negative effect it can have. Our Foundations of Clinical Medicine professor, in particular, said that he told his wife that his practice comes before his marriage. Later in that lecture, he would refer casually to his current fiancée. I'm not banking on being perfect husband material anyway (history of divorce in the family), so the last thing I need is all that.

So the next part of the lesson comes in. Romans doesn't cover it as much, but in Genesis, after Abraham is given the promise (paraphrasing a LOT) that Jesus and the salvation that comes through Him will be one of his descendants, Abraham is asked by God to sacrifice his son. This son was the fulfillment of the promise. The first impossible step of the huge impossible promise had already been given to Abraham. And he was commanded to sacrifice this promise fulfillment. Abraham showed his willingness to obey and God once again allowed him to keep his son.

God has shown me the first impossible step of the huge impossible promise He made to me, that I would be a doctor. I'm in medical school. I have my first big tests on Monday and Tuesday. And my head has already gotten a little bigger because I'm good at some things that others seem to be struggling with (and vice versa with other things, but that's beside the point, or maybe makes the point?). All of this is still God's. Whatever achievements I've made up until now, whatever I think I've learned or obtained or done, it's all God's. And if I don't give Him the first fruits of every bit of it, I'm screwed. So I need to give Him every little fulfilment of promise He gives to me, because it's all His, and He's the one shaping everything into what He wants.

First Two Weeks

Ah yes, blogging. One of the many things I've had no time for since med school began. As predicted, school got hard on the second day, and the volume of information became ridiculous. And then, somehow, I kinda sorta learned to cope? I dunno. I still feel behind in everything, but not terribly so. I went to TA sessions, and they explained most of the kinda thing I need to know. And it made me feel okay. Gross Anatomy has been the most challenging, but it's also the one with the most reinforcement (two hours of lecture followed by an hour and a half of cadaver lab).

There's so much. But the dorm I live in, Rawlins, has a closeness to it, with all of us bonding over the shared frustration of living far from campus and having to figure out the complications that come with that.

I miss singing. I don't have a car to sing in, and I don't go to church here (difficult to wake up or get a ride on Sundays, much less find a church that I actually prefer). I don't get to be alone much, not really alone. Not alone enough to sing well, at least. But maybe I'll visit the beach tomorrow and sing there...

I drank tonight. It's kind of an important thing to me, evil though that may sound.  I didn't even like drinking very much when I left, because I had no cares. Now, I have to learn the world over, and the relief of drinking really is a pleasant thing.

First two weeks of med school are done, and I'm a week away from Block 1 exams. Hope I'm making the cut.

First Day of School

Orientation was yesterday. It was a relief to see that this place was run by real people who knew what they were doing.

Classes began today. I had a leisurely wakeup upon finding that FCM (Foundations of Clinical Medicine, or Playing Doctor) would not begin until next week, so classes started at 9 AM instead of 8 AM. Unfortunately, the shuttle bus that was responsible for taking us to class did not show up. At all. Three buses were supposed to drop by as we waited, but none did, so we walked the 40 minutes through tropical heat to class. The bus driver apparently experienced a combination of "forgot" and "thought he had already gotten everyone with the first pickup". In any case, I now know that I can walk to school, which is something.

Histology was the first class of the day, and most of it was spent with the professor telling us why Histology was worth learning. To clarify, this was a 2-hour class, and she only began to actually cover material in the last 20 minutes.

I have to remember with all of it that lots of these guys got into this school 'cause it has lower standards. That's how I got in. Unlike many of them, I have a strong science background, and, particularly during my last year, I took a lot of classes that prepared me strongly for this beginning medical stuff. So the first few days will understandably be frustrating for me.

That frustration left, however, when I entered the Gross Anatomy classroom. At first, everything seemed kinda basic, but the professor elaborated on the most basic things and there was far more to those things. All we have to do tomorrow is know what most should already know, but the day after that, we have to know SO much already. And really, Histology/Cell Bio should get more difficult tomorrow, and WAY more difficult after that.

With the newly-arising difficulties in mind, I began working out again. I was tired of waiting for the expensive gym at school to open ($50 per semester and they hardly had anything), so I downloaded a workout app and did a quick 7-minute thing and then went for a run. I need to get a better track to run and better ab exercises, but aside from that, it was an okay workout. Working out helps to keep me disciplined, and since I need that, regular exercise is necessary.

During my jog, I realized something. I learned in Europe that I can't make my Christianity a secondary thing. I tried to to some extent, but God is just too big in my life. He does so much. So unlike my last year of college (my best year academically), I need to learn to make Christ the center even in the midst of studying hard. Ignoring Him never helped me, and I'm doing all of this on His orders anyway, so I should be worshiping Him with it.

Internet On The Island

Today was another day of the slow countdown to our doomed destinies that will be revealed to us on Monday at orientation. I slept in while my roommate began doing his Allah-friendly dawn prayers. It's kinda funny to me, 'cause he definitely likes to sleep in. Myself, I pray whenever and read my Bible whenever and occasionally pop into church. But Jesus is a bit of a different God from my understanding. I woke up to the sound of internet. The provider had finally come and now our room was incredibly popular because we were the only ones with internet access. My life was changed as I was finally able to post things to Instagram and Facebook and text with my friends on a more consistent basis, and I stopped worrying about how I was going to get the money from my U.S. account to pay for my dorm, 'cause apparently online banking is a thing here, but the local bank teller didn't seem to know that much about that.

There are two other Christians, both Eastern Orthodox, and though a few things about their denomination are iffy to me, I'm pretty happy to find whatever kinds of Christians I can.

Tomorrow I'm hoping to go to church. But considering that I don't know where any protestant churches are or when they start, I'm not getting my hopes up. Maybe I'll start a Bible study. Who knows?

My roommate learned today that I'm introverted, and, being extraverted, he doesn't know how to deal with me. I'm a new creature in his world. He doesn't realize that it's perfectly fine for me to go back to the room while everyone is hanging out and just read a book by myself. Or, if everyone else is around, for me to just go for a walk. In fact, I think I'm the only introvert here. Everyone is trying to be friends with everyone at all times. I hope this internet shuts them up so I can be alone and study forever...

August 29, 2014

We met some other Med 1 (first semester of med school) students today. The hallway I live on has a crew that has kinda bonded in the past two days that we've been here. We went to campus for the first time today and, consequently, had internet for the first time since arriving at Nevis. I let family know I'm alive, signed up for classes, then went "to town", the town of Charleston. This is where banks and grocery stores and something closer to civilization lives. I set up a bank account and then learned that I can't just transfer money over from my bank electronically. I have to give them cash. Which means that really, setting up a bank account feels like it was a waste of time. Online banking still hasn't properly arrived in Nevis and it shows. However, I might be able to do it online, so hope remains when I get internet again. 

Speaking of which, I have already been (over)charged for internet and they did not set it up at the time promised ("tomorrow if you sign up tonight). So I will be having a strongly worded conversation with the sales rep who got us hooked on day one. 

Due to the strong Muslim presence here, there aren't nearly as many drinkers. This makes it look even more weird when I buy five different beers and a bottle of rum (all locally produced) from the grocery store. But one of the three white people I've met also seems to have the same train of thought, so I hopefully won't be alone in it.

My roommate is Muslim and doesn't drink. He also said that he can't even pass me a beer or anything. Holding alcohol is apparently off-limits. 

I met one other Christian. He's Eastern Orthodox, which is cool, because it's still Christian. He and I talked beers and I thought it wonderful. There's at least one other student who's Christian.

Someone freaked out in the shuttle bus today when they accidentally referred to me as "white" in front of me. This has never. Ever. Happened. So I started calling myself cracker and honkey and whatever else, and encouraged them to try to come up with good white people jokes. Try to offend me. 'Cause most white people jokes I know of are about us being wealthy and privileged. 

Anyway, these days are long and confusing. With the sun going down at 6:30 PM, my internal clock is even more screwed up than usual. 

I'm debating whether to get up and brush my teeth, considering that my roommate is asleep and I also don't wanna get up and do it. I wanted to pretty myself up for orientation, but I honestly don't think that I'm gonna meet anyone I'm interested in. Even aside from the malnourishedly skinny criteria, I don't really feel attracted to this ethnic a crowd. But hey, maybe there will be one girl I haven't met who just happens to be exactly the one and I'll feel like an idiot for NOT BRUSHING MY TEETH TONIGHT. 

August 28, 2014

Well, I made it to Nevis. I brought only $23 cash with me, so I've already had to borrow money for the taxi and boat from St Kitts. I've been hanging out with seven other students who are living in the same dorm and I remain the only white person. But everyone is super friendly and the dorm situation has a lil' bit of the college feel, just with more of a deserted island feel to it. We only have to live here for 3 1/2 months. Then we get to live in apartments or houses. 

My roommate, a Pakistani Canadian Muslim, saw me reading my Bible and asked if I was religious. I said "yes" and he replied that he has a lot to learn from me (and I returned the sentiment). I get to learn about this new religion in a pleasant context, and I also get to share the gospel. But mostly, I'm feeling like there's so much to manage here that when classes start, it may just be overwhelming. 

In any case, I get to sleep tonight and enjoy exploring Nevis tomorrow. My adventuresome spirit that had been kicked down after Europe is trying to rise up once again. 

25 hours.

In 25 hours, I leave this country that I have so learned to appreciate in the past several months. It was during the last year that I discovered my body's almost allergic reaction to patriotic movies, causing me to become misty-eyed at particularly stirring moments in spite of my perfect mental health and stoic persona. Soon, I will be living in a new country. On an island. With new humans. I will go into it knowing no one and working harder than I've ever worked in my life. Or else I won't achieve the calling that God has for me. But in defiance against all counselors and advisors of note in my life, God has so far prevailed. Or, at least, told me to keep working.

So now I'm considerably packed and am becoming more and more apprehensive of what's to come. But unlike with my trip to Europe, I'm not actively disliking this. It'll be a shock to get myself back into hardcore healthy academic life, but after my last year as an undergrad and this past gap year, I'm pretty sure I can do anything.

Say what you will about gap years and living life as an adult, but it grows you. And even if you do things wrong (like not work on relationships or go to church or ever leave your house), you can learn from it and appreciate where you are now.

There are so many questions and ideas scattered in my mind that I've been putting off 'cause it's so much to think of, especially since I've put off all such thoughts for the three months since I've been back. How will I sing without a car and without a regular Christian chapel service during the week? Is there karaoke (I just checked and yes, on Monday nights not far from my school). What about love? Will I find it? If so, how many? How soon will I have to change my Facebook/Twitter/Instagram/everything else to private because doctors can't have fun on social media? Will I like rum? Will I be taller than my roommate? Will I be the token white dude in friend groups at this school that appears to be largely attended by Arab humans? Will I learn to scuba dive?

Impermanence

Friends and I talked today about the future since I'm a few days from shipping off. I told them that I won't be a real practicing doctor till I'm at least 31.

We all want to build up a community of close friends and family. We all want to easily have a go-to group that we could raise our own families with. But as for me, I feel too impermanent. Eight months working a job, three months in Europe, three months at home, then two years on an island, two years in whatever locations my clinicals take place, three years (minimum) residency, and then I get to start working as medical missionary. Which, as it happens, will also involve a state of impermanence as I go to work in needy areas, likely for months at a time.

I just feel like all I usually have is God and myself and occasionally I get to see a good friend. Those occasions will be further in between now...unless med school is full of people like me. But we all know that I'm a bit of a mutation that isn't likely to see a double anytime soon. And that's probably for the best anyway. I can hardly deal with one of myself.

A Few Goodbyes

I visited Arkansas for the last time for a long while. Where else could visiting with a friend consist of walking through Walmart for an hour and a half (none of us planning on making a purchase)?

I never visit Arkansas and then think to myself "I should have done something else this weekend." It's always worthwhile. Or, at least, it is this last time. It might still be nice if I visit in four months. I doubt it will still be as nice in two to four to seven years. People change, move, become worse or better. But at this point, most were still worth being around, and I learned things about myself and others that I wouldn't have learned otherwise. That is a great measure of whether you should be around particular people.

I also visited Tulsa, where I said goodbye to a good friend (the only roommate I ever chose) who will also be leaving the country to go to school for years.

It's a weird feeling, all of this. It's not like graduating high school or college, where there's a chance to ease out of where you're at with occasional visits. I'm going to an island and the world, along with the people I knew in it, will be very different by the time I see them again. Some will likely be married. Some might even have children. A lot are similar to me, getting out of a sucky phase of life to one that, though also sucky, is also filled with purpose, which makes it all worthwhile.

What Can We Do?

My brother and I were discussing the events in Ferguson, MO tonight, and we each had very different approaches. His thoughts were to this effect: someone high up is pulling the strings, everything would be better if everyone had guns, and some other conspiracy theorist things. It led me to further develop my own thoughts.

Our founding fathers spent FOREVER trying to make a constitution and form a proper government that would have the greatest chance of success, avoiding corruption. This is why we have checks and balances. However, as can be found in one of the Federalist papers, the last check on the checks and balances that isn't as official or well-known is the people. The people have a voice. Not just a voice, but a responsibility.

My view in the face of injustice (and justice too) is that each of us has a chance to do the best that we can with what we have. To the best of my knowledge, our votes still have value. So do our actions. In this day and age, our social networking voices can be heard. People can make a huge difference if they just try. If we just try. If I just try.

I learned from my parents' divorce that blaming does no good for anyone. If you view people as people, blame doesn't hold well for the accused or accuser, 'cause who likes to just yell "YOU DID IT" at someone who knows and understands that they did it? Instead, we need to look around us, see what each of us can do, and do. Because if we don't, the world will get worse.

Gap Year: A Lonely Tale

I'm finishing up this gap year now. It's been the hardest year of my life thus far, I think. It began the day after graduation, when I began studying for the MCAT. I had to say goodbye to friends and so many things I loved. We played a drinking game as we tore down the #blanketfort. Every time we cut twine or pulled out a pin that held it up, we drank. My friends sarcastically (but then also really) held me down as I did the job. It represented so much. And it created an atmosphere that I've never felt before but hope to feel again.

Then I moved back to Texas. I studied and studied. But I didn't have the six months I needed. I had two and a half. I went to pool parties with friends in Dallas and studied for the MCAT while I was there. I drank the most liquor at once that I've ever done, and consequently had the worst hangover I've ever had. But God even used that for my benefit I think, getting me out of a situation.

And in the midst of studying, I got a call. And I said "yes". I was offered the chance to replace someone who'd dropped out of a medical mission trip to South America. I didn't even know where we were headed at first, but all travel and stuff had already been paid for. And so I went a few weeks later and it was an incredible example of a doctor working in the world of medicine and in ministry. Their family was there too, teenage daughters. Such an incredible example of what my future could be. And it also gave me the chance to be useful, to have purpose, which is what I absolutely adore about being a missionary.

A week after that trip, I began working at the neurologist's office. It was an enormous privilege, and I don't think I was qualified, but they took me on just the same. An unpaid intern for a month, then (after I accidentally deceived them) I became a full-time medical assistant.
That's right. I did it. I did what my family (on my dad's side at least) had always made out to be the pinnacle of human worth: a full-time job. And I learned that I don't like it. I listened to "Making Money" by Ben Rector very frequently during my hour-long commute to remind me that the low hourly wage wasn't my reason for working there. I had the privilege of working for a very good doctor, and to have a huge amount of patient interaction. After a time, my reason for getting up in the morning (SO EARLY) wasn't to please the office manager or even the doctor. I got up because people needed help and I was essential for getting them that help in a timely manner.
The patient base grew when I joined, which I firmly believe is something beyond correlation. Things get blessed when I'm around because I'm a real Christian. Another doctor retired and did something apparently unheard of, passing on all of his patients to the doctor I worked for. And then the medical assistant who taught me most everything I knew (and was far better at it) turned in her two weeks' notice. I was part-time at this point because I had realized that working full time is the worst, but the office manager asked me if I would go full time for the sake of giving him time to hire a better replacement. And then the office manager fired the receptionist (which he was totally right to do) and all the while, the practice was growing with the number of patients to handle, so I was already working two jobs, but then had to work another. Three jobs at once at the office was happening for a time, and then when replacements came, I couldn't train anyone like I had been trained because I was working three jobs and just trying to pass one of them off so I could keep my head above water.
But one bright spot in the middle of that came when I was talking to the doctor in her office after work and she told me that she was "impressed" with how I'd been handling everything. My reply was that I was just trying to keep my head above water.

Throughout these months, I had been reading travel blogs at night before going to bed. All of these beautiful places and people writing about how much they'd learned and how much better they were from it, and here I was stuck, just helping people. I liked the job. It was mentally stimulating and seeing patients also helped my communication skills like crazy. When I interviewed for my future med school, I was fantastic on the phone 'cause a lot of my job was on the phone. But when I got home for the day, or even on the weekend, I didn't want to do anything. No editing that video from the Amazon, no creative side projects you promised yourself you'd complete after graduating from college, NOTHING. Just drink the bottle of wine you earned by taking care of patients and lose yourself in a movie and then pass out. I didn't socialize that often 'cause my friends weren't as great of people and I didn't want to get worse. I was also incredibly thrift 'cause everything was done with the idea in mind that every penny saved is a penny to use in Europe. At first, I was driving to Arkansas every other week to visit friends. But then, two things happened: it was expensive and they got used to it. So I stopped visiting for a month or two at a time, and I liked that friends appreciated my presence more. But I saw them less...

And then a beautiful thing happened. A lot of my friends graduated. I got to see them fairly frequently and things were looking up. But then I got accepted into a medical school and received enough denials from others to be sure of what was going on. I had somewhere to go now. This meant that I could finally plan my trip to Europe. So just when my friends were all moving back to the same area, when we were all excited to have a little group to hang out with all the time, I made my Europe plans. I bought the plane tickets and informed the office manager that I was leaving for Europe and probably wouldn't be coming back to work (a month and a half in advance, 'cause two weeks' notices are stupid at a doctor's office). I trained the new employees who would replace me and began the process of dreading the decision I had made. I didn't do Europe the way that people do Europe. I was going there to better myself, to face challenges and meet people and to not have money. It was a walkabout, a sabbatical. And I knew that if I did it the way I planned to do it, I wouldn't like it. So instead of dreaming about traveling, I secretly loathed it. It's like having a big test coming up, except that everyone is jealous that you get to take it because it looks more like a hand painting station. It was so much harder than hand painting.

But I did it. I ditched my friends and family and left a great many comforts behind and immersed myself in a way that I'd never been challenged to do before. I learned that real Christians are even harder to come by than I'd thought (and I wasn't exactly rounding up before). I learned that I have an almost-Canadian accent because it's so easy to understand, and that my sister's accent is far more southern. I learned what it's like to be conned and how it never settles well if you try to even things out against someone else if you've been conned. I learned to be a jerk in times of need. I learned that I am much more attractive than the average person, and learned to stop being so impressed with a girl just because she speaks/is French. Girl, I'm still way prettier than you. I learned that, at least from those I saw, there appear to be more attractive men than women in the world. I learned that there are a LOT of attractive women in Turkey, but I also learned that their culture is INCREDIBLY foreign. I learned to stop caring about looking really good every time I go outside (but I'm working on correcting that back to good standards). I learned that I'm into way too young of girls, and that it's dangerous to flirt in bars in Europe because the drinking age can be as low as 16 (and people often have fake IDs). I learned that snuggling for body heat can make a girl like you a LOT and it can be hard to shake. This reiterated the point that I'm good looking and it's a problem until I find someone whose looks will complement mine a lil' and we get hitched and all that.
I also learned that I missed my friends and the ideal time of friendship that I had left behind. I learned that I don't ever want to backpack through Europe like this again, at least not for this length of time. I learned that Europe needs Christ more than a lot of places I've been. Europe needs real Christians. I learned just how much I appreciate clean clothes and showers. I learned to appreciate having a car with good mileage, so I never, EVER have to worry about finding a place to sleep or a way to get somewhere. I learned, more than ever, that I wish I had someone to share it all with.

And then I got back. Aside from attending a friend's wedding, the first two or three weeks after my return are a blur. I slept soundly and drank wine and loudly watched movies on a tv without having to care about other people in a hostel or waking up the next day or anything else. I hung out with my brothers (usually one or the other) pretty constantly, depending on who was living at the same house as me. After working so much on keeping my accent pure, I learned to slur my speech and mess with words again, because my family gets bored of the English language and enjoys making it more difficult. I did odd jobs for my parents, moving furniture or doing chores. I went to my family's 4th of July party where my aunt and uncle laughed in my face when I told them I was underpaid and overworked when I had my job. I was quietly informed that my assessment was incorrect, though they knew nothing of the situation I had been in. And from there, I've really mostly been trying to cram as much NetFlix through my eye sockets as possible, 'cause I'll soon be without it. We'll get NetFlix on the island, but I won't be using it.

Introverted Goodbyes

Being introverted is difficult. I've got three weeks left in this country, then I'm gone for a long while. I hung out with an old friend tonight after working through the heat of the day in Texas (100 degrees of fun) and cut it short afterwards. In the olden days, we would've gone to his house to play video games or something, hung out with the rest of the family, then talked about life a little bit as we went to sleep. But I was pretty done after a few hours.

But at the same time, I know I'm about to be gone. I won't see these people again for at least four months, but more likely it'll be two years. Or more. I dunno.

I'm excited to ditch the life I'm living and jump back into a world of learning with an entire new culture and people surrounding me. But I'm also not happy about ditching the last vestiges of moments that seem to sparkle, the moments that only come when I'm with my JBU friends. Those moments seem to have largely faded away with my Texas friends, and they're fading fast with my JBU friends. And that last trickle that remains is about to be left behind. Because really, I don't know how likeable any of them will be when I return. I don't know how likeable I'll be when I return.

Maybe someday, when I have a #blanketfort again, things will be simpler and there will be a healthy consistency in my life besides God.

That #blanketfort has come to represent a critical time in my life. My creativity was manifest in a construct of my own design and I was able to study un-creative things in it. When it came time to study hard, I was in an atmosphere that was comfortable, aesthetically pleasing, and relaxing. I found an incredible balance in sleep, academics, and workout schedules. I didn't even pull all-nighters, which I had ALWAYS done in past years at school.
Hopefully island life will help me similarly, though I don't see it comparing to the #blanketfort, since I won't be the architect of the place where I'm sleeping.

I want to want to hang out with friends, and I want the times we hang out to be perfect, but they probably won't be, and then I'll leave forever. Lalalalala

Why Be Better?

My ending goal with a lot of the things that I do is to “become a better person.” It was like question of why I travel, just a no-brainer.

But I sacrifice a LOT for the sake of bettering myself as a human. I'm one of a VERY few of my friends who has, for the most part, really stuck with my convictions over the years. Much bigger than that though, I've intentionally dropped contact with friends who I'd been very close to over the years, simply because they were becoming worse and didn't seem to be willing to pick themselves up. I went to Europe for three months, those months being a fun period of time when I could have seen all of my friends very frequently, but instead chose to be battling loneliness in an effort to understand people of other cultures and how I interact with them. And also how to be poor and hungry. I went to work in hospitals in Uganda when other students of my year were studying for their MCAT. I missed eight weddings (one of which I was to be in) and it put me on a slower academic track, but now I know the real reasons I want to be a doctor.

But tonight while it stormed an incredible storm, I began to wonder if "to be a better person" is a good enough reason to sacrifice the time, money, and relationships that I have. I mean, being a well-rounded person with strong faith and morals is nice, but surely if I were less privileged, if I'd just gone into mission work after high school, the time and money spent on me could instead have been invested in others. What's it worth? What am I worth? The price of my education could probably have fed impoverished towns and villages for many years. Instead, it was used on me while I watched NetFlix and frequently spoke of how I want to be shot dead as a martyre at the age of 35. I hate knowing that I was born where I was and for that reason alone, I receive privileges that many people don't even know to dream of.

I guess I just try to be the best that I can be so I can reach as many people as possible. But it doesn't always sit well.

Pre-Doctor List

Most people/sources will tell you that you cannot really prepare for med school. However, one of the pieces of advice I've read about preparing for med school struck me as being very important and useful.

Writing down goals for myself as a person. Med school changes a person. I'm about to be immersed in an entirely different culture. I'll be on an island 2,368 miles from where I currently reside. I will be studying a LOT. I will likely only see my friends about once a year. My focus will be ENTIRELY on medicine.

So what's important for me as a human? Honestly, the last two years have done a lot to wash away many of my previous aspirations. Becoming a good student made me sacrifice a great many friendships, as did working my full time job and all of my traveling. Working that job, I occasionally compromised on work ethic principles. Traveling for three months in Europe, I made moral compromises to sorta even things out rather than just turning the other cheek and trusting in God. These things have already made a difference in my character that I need to continue to work on.

• I've always wanted to write a book on humor and an autobiography. The problem with both is that they are kinda always a work in progress and though my noggin might have a book's worth of stuff in it, maybe it'll read better if aged well.
• I want to build a somewhat permanent #blanketfort in my room as soon as I have a somewhat permanent residence somewhere, but probably only when I get back to the States due to shipping costs. I've built one before and every time I lay down in it, I relaxed to a degree I've had yet to feel since. After going home for the holidays, I was shocked at the difference from sleeping in my own bed at home to sleeping in the #blanketfort.
• I want to read books for fun. I took this habit up again during my last year of university, which was also my best year academically. But beyond helping academics, a good reader is a good writer with a good vocabulary and, in my opinion, extra neurons firing about.
• I want to figure out what I believe concerning complex theological questions and arguments. While backpacking in Europe, I learned that just because I haven't found good answers to my questions doesn't mean that there aren't answers out there worth hearing. Just because they aren't important to your faith doesn't mean they won't be important to someone else's. And it could be that one thing that gets them listening to this whole deal about Christ crucified and risen again.
• I want to know my alcohol and be good at drinking it. I've visited wine regions in France this year and plan on visiting Napa Valley next month. I doubt whether I'll ever be a connoisseur, but I'd love to be. And, of course, I'll get to know rum while I'm in the Caribbean.
• I want to go on a road trip with friends and/or (maybe) a significant other and every time we see a cool road or stop on the side of the road, we can have the freedom to take that turn or stop there or whatever. With a tent or car bed or something so we always have a place to sleep no matter what.
• I want to go on couples vacations with my friends who are dating or married or whatever. Ideally, I would also be dating or married or whatever as well.
• I want to further develop my good taste in fashion. I always made it a point to look good, which contrasted greatly with my peers in the science department. I would like for this trend to continue, despite the effect my backpacking through Europe had on it.

Oh The Age In My Bones

I'm beginning to feel older and older. I have two brothers, both older than me. The younger of them is three years older, 27 years old as of last month. My parents got married at 28/29 years old.

This puts me at 4-5 years until I reach the age that my parents were when they got married (and they were late compared to most).

It's tough to avoid feeling the pressure of it. I'm 24, which is kinda the age at which you expect to have at least started dating a potential keeper. But the search continues, and only really half-heartedly, 'cause I'm leaving this world to live on an island for two years anyway. Commitment doesn't seem like a real option. Not to mention that my standards haven't really done much dropping since I thought myself old/mature enough to date. She can't smoke. That's basic, but it also rules out SO many humans. We also just have to click. My dad said that since divorcing my mom, he's gone on some 150 dates but only felt like he really connected with two or three of them. There are only a very, very few humans out there around my age that I greatly admire.

Maybe I'll run into a doctor woman in med school and we'll be a medical missionary power couple. But that sounds boring. I always wanted to aim for someone more artsy... Whatevz.

Types Of Humans

You become whoever you're around. "Show me your friends and I'll show you your future" as my youth pastor used to say.

There are some people that are alright, but maybe because they're not as intellectual (or too intellectual) or fun or energetic or for some other reason, you don't feel all that different after being around them. No better, no worse. It's just alright. They're probably good people, but the reason you are with them is because they are the people with the free schedule to hang out with you.

There are people that are bad influences. Not necessarily the type who make it into a wild night of drinking and drugs at strip clubs, but maybe the ones who just aren't doing much with themselves. The ones who haven't moved on from their current job (or job position) or lifestyle, friend group, or geographical location.

There are the good people. These are the straight shooters that you've seen live out a consistent lifestyle for years. They may have been stupid in some social settings, but they're wise and down to earth. Basically just solid.

Then there are the magical (or "exceptionally good") ones. The people that fall into this group are the ones who are far too busy for you, but desire to hang out with you even after they're exhausted, and you feel the same about them. Some qualities that separate these ones from others is that they are busy working towards something and can recognize a similar desire in you, and that spurs something from inside that you don't always feel. It's a genuine longing to find out how they got to where they are, what they're working through to be in their position, and what they anticipate in the future. Along with this is the belief system that maintains their basic spiritual, emotional, and mental equilibrium.

There are people in between, too. I'm less inclined to hang out with the "good" category because honestly, it's a peer-to-peer interaction. I might pick up on something new, but usually, they're consistent enough that I'm really not missing out on much if I only see them once in a blue moon. The ones I try hardest to meet with are the exceptionally good. They're above your level, or at least at a similar point of striving towards their goal that you experience mutual benefits by being around one another. I only know a few of these right now, and the thing is, they can drop down from exceptionally good pretty quickly. It's not necessarily that they become bad, just not nearly as good as they were, settling for mediocrity on some points, molding themselves into an average being.

Because the state of a human can change so quickly (me or them), I try hard to hang out with magical people as often as possible. They may not be so magical when you see them again. Or you may not be. Some of my oldest and best friends have compromised on enough moral and ethical issues that I no longer look forward to hang out with them. I have to fight the feeling of being uncomfortable or even a little disgusted with them.

Oh Right

The big issue with having lots of time is that it becomes like the concept of infinity/eternity. You feel like you can keep wasting it and nothing will happen. However, something does happen. It slips through your fingers.

For, like, three straight weeks following my return from Europe, I drank every night so I wouldn't have to bother thinking about any of it. This, of course, is a fool's way of dealing with a life-changing experience, but my American life of plenty was like coming up for a breath of fresh air after staying underwater, and I kinda hyperventilated. I wanted to hang out with close friends, but I forget who they all are (my memory is bad enough without being out of the country), and they all got jobs or married or pregnant or something.

So I hang out with my unemployed older brothers who spend their time playing computer games and building flying drones with cameras mounted on them. And they're mostly lazy. I can be lazy too 'cause I put money away, but I do not wish to be so.

This past weekend was 4th of July weekend, during which I hung out with my dad's side of the family. My grandma was disappointed in me for not being in school or studying, and my aunt and uncle both laughed in my face when I told them that when I had my job, I was overworked and underpaid. This particular aunt makes $1 million per year. Yes, she's in the 1% that American media likes to talk about and she lives in a $900k house in Florida. We got along on an evangelistic level, when we talked about our faiths and why it's important to understand other cultures and religions, but when it came to work or education, she dismissed...well...me.

I need to get back into all of my routines (particularly working out) and not drop them every weekend like I've been doing. I only do so because I'm away from the gym or privacy for a workout, but I could probably afford to make it a bigger priority. After all, I'm not allowed to shower unless I work out.

Being A Jerk

The homeless and the gypsies were an ever-present part of daily life in Paris and in most of the rest of Europe. During past trips, I gave a significant amount of money to those. After all, these are people in need, and isn't it Biblical to give to these?

But I found that this wasn't always necessarily the case. I've worked with homeless ministries in Dallas and Los Angeles, and have discovered that most major cities, along with a great many smaller ones, have programs designed to solve the problem of homelessness. These are organized so as to promote more healthy living, with an ending goal of actually getting people off the streets to live productive lives.

My first night in Dublin, I was waiting for my bus at the station. I would be headed to Dundalk that night to stay with a host family. A homeless man came up to me asking for money. I gave him something in the realm of two pounds, about $4. Rather than stop there, he pressed me for more money. I told him that it was all I had to spare, that I really wasn't being wise by sparing that much. He continued to make casual conversation, then pressed for money again, emphasizing that he didn't have a place to sleep that night, but could afford one with ten pounds. I was impressed by this and asked where this was, because I would gladly sleep in a place for such a price. He skirted this and pressed me for money again. I very firmly told him this time that I had already given him all I would, and that he was being rude. As the time for my bus ride drew closer, I asked this same homeless man if he could help me figure out where my bus would be, and he wouldn't even speak to me once he realized that I wasn't giving him any more money.

In Paris, gypsies would walk up to you, asking you if you spoke English. Your initial reaction is to be excited that someone with an un-American accent is speaking to you. Culture! But no, the reason they are speaking with you is because they want to rob you or get something from you somehow. Very rarely do people in Paris approach you out of sheer kindness. You learn to avoid even making eye contact, putting on a serious face and waving them away when they try to speak to you. You don't even give them the time of day because that's the only way to keep them from targeting you.

I learned from this experience that sometimes you really sometimes just plain have to be a jerk to these seemingly less fortunate. You are nothing but a dollar sign to them and when you don't have the dollar signs to spare, when you are most likely hungrier than they currently are, you have to be a jerk. They aren't privileged enough to have your attention.

Going Hungry

For the first month of my trip, which took place primarily in the UK (after that mission trip to Belarus), I felt quite poor. I had lots of money put away, sure, but I had to last three months. Three months makes the list of times that aren't short. My budget was in the range of $250 per week. The unfortunate thing was, I was kinda already blowing that budget with transportation costs, since I could not yet use my 2-month Eurail pass. So I lived on 10 pounds (or euros, depending on where I was) per day. This was for everything. Food, lodging, drinks, whatever. I stayed with an Irish family in Dundalk, stayed at my university's manor  house in Belfast, CouchSurfed in Glasgow and Edinburgh, and stayed with friends in London. 10 moneys is not enough to live on, not if you're buying drinks. I learned to eat anything people would give me. Fortunately, CouchSurfing and staying at peoples' apartments often involves the sharing of dinner, and sometimes of other meals. It became a rule for me that if anyone offers you anything, you accept it. Drink that tea. They put a bunch of veggies on your plate that you don't normally eat? Beggars cannot be choosers. I learned to eat anything and everything, because more calories means more calories to burn, and when you're being thrifty and walking rather than taking public transportation, you need more calories. I would often go into grocery stores during the day and just browse food only to see the prices and decide to leave because I couldn't afford it. I became VERY hungry. Hungry enough to appreciate a lot more. No more picky eating. It wasn't allowed during this time.