Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Life and death

Looking back, there are at least two memorable moments in my residency. One was the 90 year old patient been visited by his demented wife before he goes on comfort care. Other was the birth of first child for a fellow doctor who is my age. Perhaps they are memorable and reminds me of one another because of the symbolism of life and death, their diametric opposition, and that they happened almost exactly one year apart, book-ending one of the most difficult years in my adult life. The year has been a struggle. It had some brief highs, but mostly dark, soul-crashing, lows. I am still digging my way out of it. I was surprised by how intimate and personal it felt watch the old couple saying goodbye, one hopelessly comatosed and other blissfully ignorant. That was when I realized how close to the surface my own fear of mortality is. On the other hand, I was surprised by how deeply touched and truly happy I felt for the couple with their first baby. Perhaps people in their teens and twenty, lucky (or unlucky) enough to have had two or three children, have forgotten how truly special and precious it is. Having walked down the same road, I can imagine the inner fear and maybe regret of another physician having chosen the path and having to delay their own family. The tears upon hearing the first cry of the baby must felt like the culmination of a life's struggle. I am happy for them, and maybe one day...

Question: Dejavu

Just driving to Westwood, preparing for my interview at UCLA. Suddenly, I had a flash back to three years ago, when I drove my parents to have dinner the night before my UCLA interview for residency. Driving back on 405, I had to smile at the memory of drining up from San Diego Freeway and getting lost on my way to my cousin's dorm party at USC. That was 10 years ago! Did time fly. College, med school, residency and now fellowship, I sometimes feel like the hamster running in the wheel. The world is out there. I have been "training" for it for so long. The obstacle remains the same-trying to convince other people to take my words and a few numbers on paper that I am good enough.

I shouldn't complain. If only the rest of the life is this simple. Words and number are not quite enough in real life and relationships, aren't they? I have never been shy about reaching for the stars when it comes to academics or career, yet that confidence stops there. People actually like my personal statement, so I have been told. Then why am I so inept with words in everyday conversation? Still looking for the answer.