Failures

I just got home from a very depressing 120-point hematology exam.

My table is a mess, my books are finally opened and highlighted, my trans heavy with post-its and worn out from repeated reading and coffee-spillage, my ancient notebook revived and filled with notes, my trashcan filled with empty starbucks, cobra energy drink and chatime parapharnelia from consecutive caffeine-filled sleepless night.

I felt I studied this time. I feel like I should’ve gotten higher. I left the house feeling rather confident this morning, but I return defeated before noon – no after-party lunches or post-celebratory outing with friends for me.

Time for some re-assesment.

Hold your horses. No! Not the “should I still be a doctor?” type of assessment.
If anything, these first-time-ever-in-my-lifetime consecutive failures have reaffirmed my want to becoming a doctor.
More than ever, I want to hold on and become better because I want to be a doctor.

My grades may not be the right measure of how good I am of a doctor or as a person in general. But my effort to be better – to know more, to understand, to be able to translate the lessons of the classroom to something concrete - is. And all this time, keeping in mind that I’m NOT just doing this for myself, for my family, for my teachers, for the expectations set for me – but more importantly for the future lives that will be in my should-be-capable-by-then hands.

So. Reassessment.

Re-assesment of priorities?
Re-assesment of study style?
Re-assesment of commitments?
Re-assesment of attitude/personality/world-view?

I don’t know yet. This long weekend will be recharging and reflecting time.
All I know is I have to change something.
This negative funk has got to stop.



Don’t count me out just yet. You haven’t seen anything just yet.