Progress Notes 7.5/?: The Question
Our Clinical Programs Officer asked us to answer some questions for an upcoming talk geared towards premed students in our University. Mine, as always, is a ramble like the mess I am.
I have to admit, I don't think I was at all inclined to go into medicine back then. I imagined myself being a writer, a computer programmer, a teacher. Maybe it was the proximity to my parents, who both graduated as doctors. Many of my family are actually doctors, or at least in the medical field. Maybe it's why I eventually elected to become a doctor. It's far from a noble answer, but it is what it is, and I will not deny it.
Everyone I know went to UST at some point. Both my parents graduated from UST Med. My aunt and my cousin, too. My whole maternal side of the family are Thomasians, health care-related degrees or no. My high school is practically tied to UST by virtue of being a sister Dominican institution, so most upperclassmen I know went there. And before I knew it, I found myself applying to UST Med Tech, then to UST Med. (That, and I didn't have the guts to brave the deeper waters and try for UP. I am a coward.)
This is not to say that I am not happy with how the past eight years have turned out. Despite all the stress, sleepless nights, and single-digit marks, the UST Med experience is one of the best in my entire life, with all its ups, downs, loops and turnarounds. I laughed, cried, got all kinds of non-fatal illnesses, made friends and enemies, and found a family among my fellow stressed-out zombies and night-owls. Being a Thomasian medical student is something I have and will always be grateful for, and it will forever be a memory I'll cherish until the end of my days.
If I had to name a regret I have, it would be always being afraid. Always fearful of failure, of punishment, of consequences. In an ideal world, I would be emboldened by my own ignorance to step up, to ask questions, to make mistakes, to savor the learning opportunities few and far between. But in reality, I am terribly angry and ashamed of myself for being ignorant. "I must be good. I must be reliable. I must not make mistakes. I must not lag behind." And when I am not all of these things, I easily fall - and fail. I would probably have learned more if only I had the courage to let myself fall freely, to let myself break and heal.
As you enroll in medical school, you will enter a hall of knowledge that may or may not overwhelm you by its sheer presence and power, both intimidating and inviting. Take a page from the principle of diffusion: substances move from a region of higher concentration to one of lower concentration. This, therefore, is my advice to you, future doctors: turn your ignorance into an asset. Let it embolden you to learn, to ask questions, to make mistakes. And do not be afraid of failure. They say that when you hit rock bottom, there is no other way but up. Do so. Otherwise, you'll never be able to move forward.
Best of luck to you all, and see you around.
With Love, A Thomasian (almost-)doctor
