Why.

When you apply the medical school, the big question is: Why? Why do you want to be a doctor? Why this school? Why should we accept you? I often had the hardest time with that first one - why did I want to be a doctor? Why do I? During that application time, everyone comes up with their own unique way of saying "I want to help people" without coming right out and saying that. We don't want to be trite, after all.

Getting into my school was one of the most exciting things that has ever happened to me. It took me three years of applications, essays and interviews to find the right way to say "I want to help people." And after all that time of professing that belief, I really believed it myself. The first few weeks of school, I was fired up. I was not learning anatomy for my own good - it was for 'my patients.' I spent hours learning blood supply to the GI tract, because some day, I'd use that information to help 'my patients.' It was exciting, and inspirational, and really hard to keep up.

It was not long before I realized there was no way to learn the vast amount of information being thrown haphazardly at us. I went from studying for 'my patients' to studying to survive. I was swimming in this vast ocean of facts, and it was really hard to keep my head above water. And it just kept getting worse: no land in sight.

Eventually, I got used to the sensation of almost drowning almost constantly, and started to look around me, at my classmates - my fellow oceanic swimmers. What an amazing group. I cannot imagine a more intimidating collection of people, than a medical school class. Everyone in it has worked hard. Very hard. For a long, long time. No one in it is used to losing, or even to showing any weakness. We may all be slowly drowning, but very few will ask for a life jacket. So everyone tries to play it off like they are okay. Like they are equipped with webbed feet and gills (not intended to be a reference to Waterworld, but whatcha gonna do?), and can swim forever. Groups of us come together, and come to depend on one another to survive. There really is no other way

We've finished our academic portion of med school now, and are studying to take a really big test. I feel like I finally made it to an island in this ocean, and am finally able to get my bearings. Finally. There is a different perspective from here. I can see where I came from, and I can see what I've lost on my journey. I had lost the passion for 'my patients' -- my why. I had also lost my own sense of identity - sans webs, sans gills, sans survival group. I am glad to be here. I feel calm, and I'm learning new things.

And, all of a sudden, I've found my why. There was a sunset the other night and the sky actually looked like mother of pearl. It was amazing. Last week, I went home for lunch, and heard nearby churches' bells, and just stood in my parking lot listening. A few days ago, I saw a brother and sister playing... This is my why. I want to help people, yes, but this is _what_ I want to help them do: to enjoy sunsets, to be able to stop and stand and to be at peace, to be able to play - freely, without pain, without worry.

There have been many times when I doubted myself, and doubted my desire to be a doctor. I felt I made everything up just to get into medical school, and that it was all a sham. It is nice to have my why again. Because there is a lot more ocean left out there, and I doubt I'll remember to ask for that life jacket.