The Cost of Medicine

I'm now 4 months into my intern year and have been reflecting on my life quite a bit for the past day or so. The new responsibilities that I've faced have drastically changed just about every aspect of my life in an astoundingly short period of time. I understand that this may sound juvenile for a 27 year old to write about (as most people enter the working world at 22), but it's a new experience for me, so BACK OFF! ... I am also fully aware that everyone works and everyone is busy. It's never been my M.O. to complain about how much I work. Whenever I'm asked how work is going, my answer is usually "fine" and then I try moving on to a more entertaining conversation. Nobody wants to hear about how hard your life is. Everyone has it hard. One of my favorite lines in any song is from the band Ozma (side note: I've always been highly respected for my underground music tastes): "I've turned all of my whines into 'doing fines'. It saves me so much time." But WJW is my journal, and for my own good, I see some importance to posting my experiences over the past four months.

One thing I never fully realized when striving to become a doctor is the true extent of the sacrifice you make. Over the past 4 months, when I'm not at work, I try to study as much as I can. When I'm out socializing or trying to relax, I'm thinking about how I should be studying, so I can never give myself completely to these situations. (Even as I rush through this blog post, I'm thinking about how I should probably be studying instead.)

I've become unbelievably selfish with my time. Time spent with friends has dramatically suffered, and that's something they will hopefully be forgiving of, as it's something I'm constantly having to learn to deal with. But I won't apologize for being an absent friend because the feeling of guilt is too heavy a burden, or at least one that I refuse to trouble myself with at this point in my life.

In a way, medicine has caused me to lose some of my humanity. While on call a few days ago, my code-pager went off. When I saw that the code was called on one of my patients, my first thought was not for the well-being of my patient or his family. My first thought, as I was rushing to his room, was "Oh my God! Have I done something to cause this?" Strangely, when patients are truly sick, I'm always focused on trying to save my own skin (skin = job). I'm assuming (hoping) this will improve with time.

The things I used to complain about seem so irrelevant now. Outside of medicine, I care about nothing, Lebowski. Similarly, I badly want people to stop talking when I hear them complain about things that I now realize don't matter at all. As I spend most of my thoughts and efforts trying to learn how not to kill people, other less important things tend to be shoved to the periphery of my mind. Unfortunately, time spent caring about the things I once cared heavily for-- Aggie football, family, friends, entertainment-- has greatly diminished. This has been the most personally devastating result of my intern year (except for caring less about Aggie football, which is actually a positive considering the sucky season we're having).

I've lost a lot of weight over the past 4 months. It's quickly changed from intentional to unintentional. Eating makes me tired. Eating takes valuable time. I've lost interest.

Medicine has taken a profound toll on my faith. I can see that there is obviously a Creator just by observing everyday life at the hospital. Yet I see no supernatural intervention. And after working with some of the kindest foreigners, non-Christians, mathematically/logically minded doctors who truly cannot fathom that Jesus is the Son of God, it becomes more and more apparent that no hell could possibly contain hearts that size.

Medicine, at least at this stage of my career, has taken everything from me. But the payoff has been equally profound. Daily, I have the privilege of being surrounded by the smartest, most impressive people I've ever known. And I am honored to have the opportunity to learn from so many brilliant minds. Like most interns, I feel hugely inadequate. But I am pleased with what I'm becoming capable of.