Outside the Boxing Ring

The surge of reality waiting for you after the oath is taken

The first day in medical school always feels surreal. An excitement-from-hitting-a-long-chased-target kind of surreality.

The last day in medical school also has a great deal of surreality to present but one that looks nothing like that from the first day.

It is a surreality tucked between anxiety and uncertainty. One that is sufficient enough to keep up with appearance. However, never strong enough to kick off the question that is crystal clear as daylight and as bugging as an expected result; 'What Next?' I'm just half way through this journey and I have started seeing flashes of this question.

Medical school can be likened to a boxing ring. But one that lasted for years and slowly rips you off your defence and leaves you constantly running from your greatest fear (that's what you are made to believe), an opponent you don't even dare to look in the face, an enemy you wouldn't do anything about other than run far away. FAILURE

Nonetheless, what happens when the years long chase is over and you are finally declared winner of a race in a boxing ring? How do you intend on winning the next match when all you did in the past years was run when you should have been getting your body familiar with battle?

Graduation is a party before the main parting. A parting between the medical student and the medical doctor. The student actually fades out leaving the stretch of it's remains. Memories. Knowledge Acquired. Training Received. Sleep denied. All of it for the doctor to work with. Or work around.

Now this is where the distinction lies, you are either the student that spent years learning just how to play god on the human body or one who saw the bigger picture. One with a doctor and an entrepreneur or a web designer or a photographer or a writer or whatever it is all in one person.
You see, this variety of doctors don't exactly go through the typical divide-in-the-middle kind of parting. It's like sorting out a piece that doesn't fit anymore. This is because, they were not just medical students!

They found a way of running from, fighting and carefully studying the enemy all at the same time. They diversified!
Medical school doesn't sometimes give room for breathing, why should you go on a suicide mission to find a room for diversification?
Nobody actually finds a room. We create one. One between the hour before that movie begins and when it ends. One between the minutes of wallowing in fear of failing an exam. One between hours of studying. One between minutes of journeying back home. One anywhere it would fit.

One beautiful thing is how the lighting of the room is connected to how much sparks a contact with this hobby/diversification can produce. No room to fake interest or allow mediocrity.

Having come in contact with a great number of medical students over the years, it is no doubt resilience finds home in our hearts. Thriving doesn’t just come in making another body remember how to function, admitting the exhilaration this comes with, it comes in a published article,a spellbinding graphic design, a ground breaking fashion line, and even a camera with a lens that captures the soul.

Diversification isn’t even an option in our present world but a survival tool. Survival in this jungle. Survival in a system that is almost set to drive you crazy! You need this breathing space.

Find your passion. Fuse it with medicine and produce another mutation of your profession.