I can still clearly recall the first day of I becoming a medical student, the first time of I going to the wards on the first day of clinical year, the first time of I witnessing a caesarean section, the first time of I conducting the delivery of a baby, the first time a patient said 'thank you' to me, the first time holding an autopsy knife, and sadly the first time witnessing a death. And the list goes on.
And yesterday, we came back from the 3rd PPD (personal n professional development) camp.
And now, we'r back to reality after 3 months of honey-moon like holidays.
And tomorrow, it will be the first day when we all being labeled as "final year medical students".
Frankly speaking, the PPD camp we went for the past 1 week had instilled me more fear than anticipation for the coming year(s).
It was told that the life of being a houseman will be full of sweats n tears while that of becoming a specialist will be filled with sweats, tears n blood.
I know that sometimes the fear itself does more harm than the actual thing that is being feared, but most of the time u can't help but just worrying rather than 'enjoying' the process.
I can see lots of misery n hardship in times to come, but may them be alternated with moments of joy n contentment. And let my friends n i cherish the final moments of becoming a student.
God, may I have enough strength to go through all this.
*amitabha*
