Here we are: my actual why medicine reasons that I've used in interviews, conversations, drafts in personal statements, and drafts to practice interview questions.
So, why so many posts when I wrote about months and years after her death?
Because grief is real. And it takes a while to figure it out. And it shapes you more than you could ever imagine. And grief lasts much longer than the initial stun of loss.
And it took me a long time to come to terms with everything that death means and entails.
It means- you have to do things without reassurance from one of the people you trust the most. You have to stumble through taxes, insurance, and adulting and hope you don't screw up without any supervision. You have no one to co-sign for you. You have no one to ask about their pregnancies, deliveries, or ask what they did for their babies because their experience will likely be very similar to yours. You have to cheer yourself on because Moms not there. You have to actively seek out a relationship with your brother because there aren't parents to make you come together at holidays. Mother's Day is forever horrible. Her birthday is ok. Christmas and Thanksgiving are kind of hard. Every time "Kryptonite" or "Bleed American" comes on the radio it is a painful reminder of her singing in the car as loud as she can. There are no more cards in her handwriting with a cheesy smiley face at the end. I will never receive a text message telling me good luck, I'm proud of you, or I love you again. There will come a time when I will no longer remember her voice. There was not a proud, crying mom at my college graduation. There will be no proud parents at my white coat ceremony, my medical school graduation, or the for the first real job I have. My kids won't know the most influential person in my life or their grandparents. There is no one left on the planet that will love me no matter what crime, wrong doing, heartache, bad word, or bad action you may or may not do. Your friend circle loses a spot. There's no one to ask questions about the past. There is no one to give you recipes for your favorite childhood foods. I will never receive another pair of good luck socks. Other things in life that used to be life shattering, barely warrant a shoulder shrug these days. You really can't relate with others your age about their parents coming to visit or call or babysit or care packages; and they can't relate to you either. When you see an acquaintance and they ask, "oh how's your family doing" you have a split second to decide if you will put them in an uncomfortable situation or just roll with it by saying "good". There's no one anymore to surprise you with groceries when you're in between pay days and sick of ramen. No one is coming to your rescue anymore so you have to figure out how to rescue yourself. There's no one on your side sticking up for you anymore.
The hardest realization, and I'll say it again, is there is no reassurance anymore. You just do what you think will work and wish mom was there for her wisdom and try to stay strong when everyone else bombards you with their opinions on your life.
I didn't have her to turn to when things got rough with C and I. I didn't have her when I still didn't know how to cook. I didn't have her when I wasn't confident enough to even think about applying to medical school. I won't have her when weird things start happening to me in pregnancy. I won't have her to ask advice when those kids are being little shitskees.
You take these things for granted. And people don't understand. So they say things to reassure you, but you know they have no idea. Instead it's like they cut you a little deeper.
"You'll be fine, I lived across the country from my mom when I had babies." Yeah, you did. But I'm sure you were on the phone with your mom more than I will ever be.
"Oh it was just us and the baby." No, it was never just you and the baby. You're mom was there during your pregnancy and birth and you both own telephones.
"Well I can't talk to my mom right now so she might as well be dead." No. You still know in your heart of hearts there is a chance to talk to her again. I have no chance. Ever.
I will never speak to my mom in this lifetime. Her advice is gone. Everything I could soak up in 20 years is what I have. I didn't ask life questions because I was a kid. And those are the questions that I really needed to ask.
You take these things for granted. And people don't understand. So they say things to reassure you, but you know they have no idea. Instead it's like they cut you a little deeper.
"You'll be fine, I lived across the country from my mom when I had babies." Yeah, you did. But I'm sure you were on the phone with your mom more than I will ever be.
"Oh it was just us and the baby." No, it was never just you and the baby. You're mom was there during your pregnancy and birth and you both own telephones.
"Well I can't talk to my mom right now so she might as well be dead." No. You still know in your heart of hearts there is a chance to talk to her again. I have no chance. Ever.
I will never speak to my mom in this lifetime. Her advice is gone. Everything I could soak up in 20 years is what I have. I didn't ask life questions because I was a kid. And those are the questions that I really needed to ask.
It was completely life altering.
It took a long time to be "okay". It also took a lot of time to reflect on myself as a person, my identity, and who I was before and who I am now.
I am a kinder and more compassionate person since her passing. I had a very hard shell and didn't let people in. Now it's more of a semi-permeable membrane. I understand loss, grief, anger. I understand the sadness that cuts to the bone. I understand being scared. I understand your frustrations with the unknown. I understand the panic.
I'm not afraid to fail. I basically failed my first MCAT and was denied admittance to medical school my first cycle. If my mom were still alive, I don't think I would have ever even tried to get into the medical field, yet alone take the MCAT multiple times or applied two years in a row to medical schools. I was not that strong because I had her love and compassion to fall back on.
It may be stupid, but I feel "YOLO" is a perfectly acceptable answer to the above. Her passing showed me how precious life is and that we only have one go at it. I will not be afraid to reach my potential, to fail, to feel love, be myself, or to enjoy life. I refuse to wait for "one day". Today is as good a day as any other. I also refuse to live a life that want for me. This is my life, my chance at what I want. I was not put on earth to follow anyone's life plan other than my own.
Her death made me strong. Maybe resilient is a better word. Things hurt, but I know how to just keep going now.
When my mom passed, I really had to think of what living a life I could be proud of really meant.
It came with a lot of tears.
Now, to the point.
Why medicine-
Because of the countless nights I spent with my mom, there was always a doctor there in the middle of the night trying to get her better.
Because when I had a questions, there was always a doctor trying to answer.
Because of the countless tears I cried, there was a doctor handing me a box of tissues.
Because when the doctor told me my mom had 3-4 days, I placed all of my trust in him.
Because grief does weird things to your life and relationships, you grow into the person you want to be or let it break you, and it grew me into a caretaker.
Because it made me more sensitive and tough all at the same time. Your doctor can't cry when you're in pain; you should be allowed to handle your pain while the doc does their job. But that doc should also be able to show compassion.
Because I want to be a role model to young girls thinking they're not smart enough- you can do this!
Because I have been on the receiving side of medicine, I want to be on the giving side. I want to have your answers, lose sleep to help your loved one gets better, to hand you a tissue box when you're at your lowest, and for you to put your trust in my hands.
Because I could do any job, but taking care of your Heath is my dream. I want to help you be your best self by helping you get healthier and staying healthy.
Because I am obsessed with the human body and all the amazing things it does from making a new human to making little glycoproteins for antibodies.
Because I want all the information and training possible to be this person for you.
Because my mom worked really hard to put me in a position to help others, to help you.
Because life is hard, I refuse to give up, and I refuse to give up on you.
Becaue I know I can. And I know I'll be really good at being this person for you.
So many times people have said, "why not a nurse, PA, etc"... My why not--- they are very skilled and educated and also very important and necessary components of healthcare; but they do not have the same level of education and training as a physician. I want to have every tool possible to help you. I want to know without a doubt of what it is I will be doing to help you. I do not want to consult with another provider on every patient if I know what is the best care plan for you. Sure, there will be plenty times I have to consult with my peers, but I will also be used to consult on others patients. I want all the knowledge and training possible to provide you the best one on one care I possibly can. I want the responsibility that being this person entails.
Why medicine is so much more of a feeling then I could ever accurately put into words. I want it, but I also feel it. It sounds cheesy, but it's true. But it's something every premed needs to be able to do. You need to be able to clearly identify YOUR reasons. Everyone's why is different, not everyone's why is heartbreak, and not everyone's reason is the same. Your why can be simple, it's okay. Your why can be complex, and that's okay too. Medical schools receive thousands of applications and personal statements each cycle- make YOU shine. Whatever your why is, know it and make it shine. It will get brought up in every single interview.
And guess what? I talked about my mom in every single interview. It was emotional. Some interviewers didn't like it (I could tell by the look on their faces), but others saw my compassion and my why more clearly. I couldn't hide something/someone that played such a huge roll in my why medicine. I am very passionate about letting others know- you can do this, it's hard but you can do hard things, everyone is very different so focus on what makes you stick out from all the other great GPAs and extracurricular activities. My why medicine is what my difference was, and I made sure others knew.
Know your why medicine- it's why you are dedicating your entire life to taking care of others. If you don't know, dig deep and find your why.
You got this.
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