tick.
tick.
tick
Time is a fickle thing.
For years, it seemed like time was never moving fast enough,
I was always waiting to grow up, to finish school, to start life. I remember specifically during the first year
of medical school thinking how terribly long
four years seemed.
And now that it’s coming to an end, I feel as though there
isn’t enough time left. I’ve already
begun to feel nostalgia for this place and these people. I already miss
it. It’s as though just because there is
an end in sight, my heart has decided to hold on tighter. It is protesting the upcoming pain by feeling
it even sooner. Pretty stupid plan, eh
heart?
Earlier in this year, a friend and I were parting ways for a
couple of months and we didn’t get a chance to hang out before leaving for away
rotations. Half-kidding, I said to him,
“you didn’t even say goodbye.”
He replied with “that’s a ridiculous thing to say”.
I replied with “I’m a ridiculous person.”
He agreed.
But here’s the thing: I’m not a ridiculous person. I don’t apologize for feeling nostalgic and
for dreading the day that I am going to say goodbye to all of the people in my
med school class, because over the past four years I have come to know them and
appreciate them and treasure them.
There are people in school that I don’t get along with -
some who make me uncomfortable simply by their presence. Oddly enough, I will be genuinely sad to see
many of them for the last time too. They
may not like me or vice versa, but they have still played a role in this
incredible journey and have been a part of the big picture.
It’s more than that though… I’m not really sure how to
explain it. It’s just that… they are people.
I might have engendered confusion when I used I implied that I don’t
like them… because I do. Even if I
don’t. There are people who make me
crazy, make me angry, make me cry or make me uncomfortable… but they are
people.
People aren’t straightforward – everyone has things about
them that are inherently likeable or even loveable. The nervous smile after a compliment. The things that only they find funny. The things they are passionate about. The way
their voice softens when they talk to someone they really care about. The way
their face lights up when they tell a joke that makes the whole room
laugh. The concern in their voice when
they talk about a patient.
These are the things I fall in love with. I notice these things and for some reason it
endears that person to my heart. Even if
they are completely mean to me. I can’t
help it.
It doesn’t take much insight to realize that if this is how
I feel about the people I don’t like, how much more intense must my feelings be
for the friends that I love.
The friends that I have now mean the world to me. They are far more than just the people I
happened to suffer through anatomy and organ systems with… They are who I look
forward to telling when my mom does something silly, or who I know can make me
laugh when it has been a long week and I just want to have some fun. They are funny and smart and
compassionate. They are there when I
feel like things couldn’t suck more.
They are courageous and brave and just everything that I wish I could
be.
They are the only possible reason why Toledo feels like
home.
I love them so dearly.
I realize that I have used the word love quite a bit. And for the record, no, I’m not using it
lightly. I develop very real and intense
feelings for the people in my life. I
hope that it is part of what makes me a worthwhile friend. I do what I can to show these people I care
(where appropriate) and tell them as often as I can how much they mean to
me.
Seriously, if anyone intercepted a text-message conversation
between me and my best friend (and they happened to luck out that it was one of
our sane moments and not a discussion of exoskeletons, glitter, arson-
hypothetical… obviously! or eyebrows) they would think that we were actually in
love with each other because I tell her so often how amazing she is and how
lucky I am to have her… this is getting off point.
So where were we…
I don’t make apologies for the intense attachments I form,
even when people may not have the same level of feeling for me. I would rather feel too strongly for the
people that I have than not have anyone that I care about.
When I stop and I think about each of these people – all
their quirks and idiosyncrasies, what they mean to me, and how much they have
changed me…I know I am so lucky to have them.
I wouldn’t trade this understanding for anything, but I do dread where
it leads.
In just a few short months I am saying goodbye to many of
these people. I said goodbye to several
when last year’s class graduated and moved on and I know the ache all too well.
Caring so deeply for so many people leaves me open to a lot of pain.
It’s going to hurt. A
lot.
I know that it has to happen, because everyone that I know
now is going to go forward and do great things with their lives. From the people I know now, there will
someday be famous surgeons, world class sports medicine doctors, great
neurologists, passionate pediatricians… I have no doubt because I know how awesome
they are. The world will be a better
place because of them, so I know that we have to say goodbye and it has to
hurt.
But the point is, it’s not going to hurt because I’m
ridiculous or because I feel too much, but simply because I have had the joy of
getting to know some truly wonderful people over the past four years. They are imprinted in my mind and, practical
or not, in my heart.
It’s going to hurt like hell.
It’s going to hurt because it mattered.