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.
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