It's All So Fleeting

Very sad day in the ER. Listening to Sigur Ros right now only seems to compound the sadness and the reality. A 12-year-old girl was pronounced dead after a car accident involving her father, sibling and best friend. The others in the car were taken to another local ER, but this one...this one didn't make it.

About an hour after the 12-year-old arrived at the hospital, her mom came through the front doors to the front desk where I sit. She was almost hyperventilating. She had not been told yet that her daughter hadn't lived. Meanwhile, the social worker, who should have been johnny on the spot in the lobby to greet mom, made her wait almost 5 minutes before she came out to take her back and give her the news. That five minutes felt like an eternity for all of us - most of all the mother.

There she stood with a call for help in her face, uncertain of the outcome, her husband and other child in another ER in another part of town doing semi-okay. She kept looking over at me at the desk - me with my head down in my biology book trying not to make eye contact because then you know she'll ask you what you know about the accident. I have to play dumb. "I don't have that information, I'm sorry." "The social worker should be out here very soon." All the while, I feel helpless, my stomach weighted down with a huge pit of tragedy. I wanted to give her a Kleenex or a hug, or something. But, you can't when you're a volunteer. You just have to keep your head down and hope you don't make eye contact.

The social worker eventually came out to get mom. Took her back to a special area in that side of the trauma center. More family and friends arrived. An hour later, they all left with swollen eyes and mystified looks on their faces. It just wasn't true.

To bring the whole tragic experience full circle, the best friend was transported from the other ER to our ER with a ruptured spleen and broken leg. Her dad came rushing to the front desk trying to find her. His daughter was alive, but still, the look on his face was not unlike the mother's of the other girl who didn't make it. Through his face he said, "Is this really happening? How did my daughter live? What do I tell her?"

I pray for all of the families affected by this accident. I pray especially for the mother I saw today and for the father who was driving and lived. It's an unspeakable sadness.

Grasping at Air

Grasping at Air - I believe it is a Buddhist saying that describes the feeling of trying to make something happen, or trying to know the unknowable. The sad, or perhaps unburdening truth is that someday, we are going to die. Kaput. Show over. Elvis has left the building.

Death is the only guarantee we get in life. But, this shouldn't be considered sad. It should be considered an invitation to do as much as we can possibly do, and fit in as much as we can possibly fit into this one life we get. As my grandma used to say, "This ain't dress rehearsal!"

But, lately, I have found myself grasping at air to know one thing...are the feelings and interests I have symptomatic of a "future doctor." Every time I am around a physician, I tell them my reasons for going back to school and why I haven't gone down this road before. I know my path is unique, but I always hope that my reasons sound to them compatible with someone who decides to enter medicine.

The truth is, you can tell your story and reasons for choosing something until you are blue in the face. You can ask questions, do research and get as close to a comfortable answer as possible. But, you can never know how your life will turn out post career change until you take the leap and try.

I might lack a crystal ball, but I would say that I've got some other balls of my own that help me along the way of my new adventure.

Early Mornings

When I was in graduate school studying journalism, I set out to be a Television broadcast personality like Katie Couric because I really love getting up early in the morning.

Not much has changed since then. I'm not going to be Katie Couric - thank God! But, I am going to be making a better effort of getting up early and starting my running routine again, swimming now that it is warmer outside and yoga. If I could do all three and still get to work on time, I would because I suffer from a chronic ailment called Restless Leg Syndrome. Hope this translates well one day when I need to stay up for 30 hours straight.

Inspirational Reading

For someone such as myself with a background in creative writing, I've always found it a bit out-of-character that I prefer non-fiction to fiction. I've even developed an affinity to WWII novels about the Pacific. Go figure!

Over the last year, I've been soaking up medical story after medical story. Most of them are about the medical profession written by doctors. The latest book I picked up is called Treatment Kind and Fair by Perri Klass, M.D. On rare occasions, I jump into a book with joy and excitement from the first sentence. Let's see, there was Tales of the Fourth Grade Nothing, Ethan Frome, To Kill a Mockingbird....and Treatment Kind and Fair.

I can't remember if I read the fold on her bio first, or after I started reading. No matter when, the similarities between us are inspiring. I may not know Dr. Klass, but she is what I want to be: a pediatrician with a love of writing who has written several books; a Journalism professor; a mother.

Dr Klass started having her children when she was in med school. I love hearing stories like this. Trust me, I am not romanticizing having children in med school, but one of the reasons I've chose to wait this long to go back is because I wanted to start a family first. This said, I know I have the energy, quirky sensibility and drive to handle school and children if I am blessed enough to meet their father. It won't be easy, but it won't be impossible either.

Should I Stay Or Should I Go

Wanted: Six more science classes to fulfill my pre-requisites...plus a tall, dark and handsome man with a large bank account who's greatest desire will be to pay for the next several years of my education and sponsor my bi-monthly pedicures.

....maybe that's a bit much to ask for. How about I just win the lottery.

I'm thick in the application process for post baccalaureate premedical programs across the country. I've narrowed my choices down to both places I could see myself living and places where I could possibly suck it up for a couple of years. Drum roll please:

University of Southern California - Already have friends and family here, great program and I could learn how to surf
University of Oregon - Already have friends here, very similar to my current home and I could learn how to ride my bike in the snow
Montana State University - have one potential friend there and plenty of mountain men to go around. Could also learn how to snow board and cross country ski to school
Harvard - It's all in the name. But, could I really go back to the cold?
University of Pennsylvania - My doctor uncle went here and my dad began his PhD here, so there are some family ties. I've also felt Phillie is an underrated city. But, again, the cold?
American University - Hmmmm. Might drop applying to this one
Georgetown - Got in once as an undergrad, but it was too expensive. Love the Georgetown area and I have plenty of memories there as a kid visiting family. Have both family and friends there, and it would be a 5/6 hour drive to my parents and/or brother and sis-n-laws in each direction
University of North Carolina Greensboro - Warmer, closer, red-neckier. But, I am a Carolina girl at heart
Armstrong Atlantic State University Savannah, GA: Savannah, GA is a comfort town to me. Memories of childhood as well as proximity to the folks
University of Miami: Will Smith wasn't wrong. Doctor uncle lives in Ft. Lauderdale and teaches at the University

And, then there is my hometown University, which doesn't offer a program per se, but I will be groveling to them next week to let me into their premedical program as an undergraduate transfer.

For those who may not understand why I am applying outside of my happy place here in hometown X, students applying to med school from your basic premed program have a 50% chance of acceptance. Students applying from premedical postbacc programs see at least an 85% acceptance rate. I might be too old to risk a 50% chance of not getting accepted. Although, I am not opposed to attending med school in the Caribbean.

Just a Volunteer

I am a volunteer in a hospital Emergency Room. I didn't even choose this post because, quite frankly, I didn't think they let low-level peon humans, such as myself, close to an ER. But, the volunteer coordinator who knew my desire to go into medicine set me up for the ER, and I couldn't thank her enough.

My ER day is typically 4 hours long once-a-week. But, I am so eager to do and see more that I am considering going on random nights - Wednesday or even Saturdays (when lots of interesting cases come through the doors.)

On my very first day of volunteering, within 5 minutes I was sent to Room 18 to sit with a 16-year-old girl who tried to kill herself a few hours earlier by slitting her wrists. She was absolutely one of the most beautiful teenagers I had ever seen. There was both a joy and sadness to her face. It looked like she was saying, "I don't really want to die, but I am just so sad and don't know how to fix it." With her wrists bandaged, she sat in the bed while I told her about my plans for medicine. Clearly, I wasn't going to start any conversation by asking her how her day was going.

I made her smile and laugh. She even told me about her plans to become a midwife one day, and I encouraged her to pursue that because it's a special career and there are never enough midwives to go around. How strange, it occurred to me, that she was willing to take her own life, when her dream was to help bring life into the world.

Meanwhile, in Room 19 next door, a 12-day-old baby with a congenital defect presented with respiratory failure and the doctors had to bag the little infant to resuscitate. I looked on as the doctors were in the room performing a miracle - as I see it. The little baby lying naked on an adult sized gurney with the smallest ambu bag they make and tubes and wires coming out from all ends. They were able to stabilize the baby, but I know for a fact, having been to the hospital a few days afterward, the infant was still in the PICU (pediatric intensive care unit) because I saw the parents walking the floors.

I've seen a small boy getting his leg splinted for a cast after a bed fell on him. I've seen the star flight (helicopter EMS) land and wheel in a 7-year-old daredevil who fell off on ATV. I'm seeing a lot and I only want to get more involved.

But, there I remain, in my dorky volunteer shirt. The absolute bottom rung of medicine. Do these doctors and nurses who give me orders know how much I want to be in their shoes? Do they know what a great doctor I will be one day? I've tried to tell them, but they seem to be a bit pre-occupied with their awesome jobs.

Gulp!

A 30-year-old female presents with memories of her childhood pediatrician and years of reading through health books, including the Merk Manual. Upon examination, she is ruled-out for high fever and delirium. Her pupils, skin and heart rate appear normal. She is beginning to shows signs of crows-feet, however. She complains of a desire to practice medicine one day. Paged psych consult. Premliminary diagnosis: Futurerae Doctoritis.

It's done. It has been did! I am swallowing my medicine and I am taking the plunge to go back to school and become a doctor. I've read books, done research and made career lists. I have volunteered in hospitals as a teenager and as an adult and found a great comfort inside those stark walls. I wear scrubs to bed and dream that one day this could be my daily uniform. It's just taken me longer to take the leap into what will be a long, sacrificial, arduous, draining profession. Sign me up!

Medicine gets both a good and bad wrap. Yes, it's a tough, stressful job at times, but it is also an amazingly rewarding one. What other career allows you to examine the human body, birth babies, sometimes open up a person to take a look inside and sometimes watch someone slip away into death. I began to realize most recently that the reason only a select few choose medicine for a career is because it does hit close to home. Doctors are humans dealing with other humans, who are not always in the best of shape. Perhaps the thought of being in contact with your own mortality is too much for many to bear. For me, I recognize it will be challenging, but I also find it fascinating - even an adrenaline rush.

My steps toward medicine have been years in the making, but took some time to actualize. That's okay. I am going to be 40 either way. Might as well be doing something I enjoy.