Last blog I talked about, as a child,
wanting to be the world's youngest author. This was before troubled
times enlightened me as to the value of a physician. My priorities
shifted. That is not to say that an author doesn't hold a valuable seat
in society. I believe the contrary, that good authors highlight aspects
of society that may not be viewed by any other means.Finally, I did
become a published author, first in some newsletters at
UCI, then as a
staff writer for the
UAB student newspaper, then finally in a scientific
journal - an article on health risks associated with some genetic
variants of ApoE in African-American women in the Southern United
States. Since then, a few abstracts have followed. My largest academic
effort at publishing was aimed at describing the general characteristics
of delivering antenatal care in labour and delivery wards in Lusaka,
Zambia within a time frame of the late 1990s. Scientific writing is
definitely a different style of writing, contrasted with free-flow
creative writing. It was turned down by one journal, and then the edits
got lost in my pursuit of Life. The saving grace was that the data have
been utilized several times by folks who were interested in implementing
health care systems in the L&D wards in Lusaka. To me, that's as
satisfying as a publication, although I grant that the tangible
end-product would have given a sense of completion.
You know, these entries of late are filler. They're simply my way of
forcing myself to take a break from writing about poverty, about death,
about sadness that I think people understandably try to avoid. It's an
entertainment-oriented globe we live on. Death ain't sexy, unless it's a
murder, a mystery, a catastrophe, or a shining bright tragedy. Not the
dull stuff of everyday young death, preceded by long illness by
struggling human beings, and followed by orphans and hopelessness. After
the first tragic story, like a one-hit wonder, we get desensitized, and
it's not until it hits again, and again, and then again, and when you
think it's over it hits again and again, and then surely this has
passed, and you see an even bigger wave than you imagined - that is when
it really sinks in and hits home.
I'm clearly in a frustrated rut.
Today was the first day back in class for our last term of
strictly book-learning before we finally will be able to see patients,
under the close supervision of superiors. There are 10 more academic
hurdles to span, the last one being the highest and longest - the USMLE
step 1 exam - during which we fledgling physicians must demonstrate
adequacy in our basic science knowledge on which the foundation of
medicine resides.
And while I pass through these portals of knowledge, the saddest bit
is that I have to pass the dying masses to get through. Here I am
entering the kingdom of skills and hope that being a doctor will mean,
but along the way, I must walk through and by and past the dying,
emaciated people that I wish to serve once I graduate from the House of
God. I find it very difficult to ignore what is going on around me and
to focus solely on the short term goals ahead while my long term goals
crumble before my eyes.
Study this, and ignore the dying masses out the window. This is a
philosophy that is anathema to my view of what I want to do with my
life. Perhaps more community service will appease me as I pass through
the gates.
But what about them?
I guess it's a life-lesson I'm struggling through - finding the
balance between what is possible and what is imagined, or between a
short term investment versus the return on a longer term investment.
I will step gingerly...though I wish they were confident steps. I
will do as little harm, and if I can place a bandage or offer an advice
that keeps a few of the masses sustained until I can come out the other
side of this educational edifice, then perhaps I can keep my stride.
Just hang on a little longer - I'll be there. I promise.
I am still nagged by those who will not be able to hang on though. If
ever Life offered it's famous lesson of not being fair, this is it.
Solutions:
Point them in the direction of those who are already there on the
ground, and already have the skillset and training that can be of
assistance.
Foster hope, always.
Give when you can, and sacrifice to do so.
