Midpoint

We're halfway through the year, can you believe it!? I definitely can't.

I'm also just about halfway through with medical school--also unbelievable. On Friday I finished my Surgery clerkship--the first of my clinical rotations. I decided to put Surgery first because I didn't think I wanted to be a surgeon; I've never felt like I "fit in" with the surgeon-types. They're jocks; it's a fraternity. They play a lot of golf, and everyone knows that stands for "gentlemen only; ladies forbidden", right? They only want to get their hands dirty and don't put patient care first. They know no medicine.

Right?

I'm not so sure anymore. I had an amazing 8 weeks, and I loved surgery. I found that there definitely is patient care involved; there's complex and challenging medicine happening every day on the floors. But there's the additional aspect of the surgery part, the part where you actually get to use your hands to open someone up (or put some nifty cameras and tools in someone) and fix, remove, or alleviate something that's making them sick. And I realized: I'm definitely a hands-on person. All of my hobbies have always been about being good with my hands--knitting, playing instruments, cooking. It just felt like something I wanted to do, to get really good at. I didn't mind the hours, not when I got to man scalpels and cauterizers and laparoscopic cameras. And needle drivers, with sutures in their jaws. It was fascinating and exhilarating. I felt like I could really do this, like, for real. And mentors repeatedly told me I would be good at it--that I should seriously consider as a career. My career.

Do I want to do this? It's an insane path, full of sleepless nights and neglected family members. And the guilt that comes with all of that: guilt for being a bad wife, a bad friend, a bad mother. No matter how much you want to go home to your family, if the situation requires you to stay, you have to stay. It's a sacrifice that I'm not sure I'm willing to take.

So I go into the rest of my clerkships eager to find out. I hope I don't end up liking everything and never figuring out what it is I want to do. Or: I hope I end up feeling called to a career that, unlike surgery, allows for a balanced life. We'll see; the bar's been set high. Stay tuned.