The idle reflections of a 40% doctor

“People don’t like going back, even if they must. I don’t like going back! And I’m not people! But I look back, sometimes, every so often, just to make sure I’m not leaving anything important behind.

-Emory R. Frie, Wonderland

And what better time to pause and reflect on the past than the present? Certainly, the mood doesn’t hurt. A quiet autumn night, with the hint of a Karachi winter in the air and a steaming cup of chai or coffee within proximity, is almost always the best time to put one’s philosophical hat on and take a trip down memory lane. More specifically perhaps, considering the title above, however, I suppose it is worth talking about that aspect of life most of us share in common: Med school.

To start with, ‘pre-med school me’ had a little problem. Not a large problem, mind you (had enough of those all through A levels and after) but definitely a problem nevertheless. You see, I didn’t seem to have been touched by that all-consuming passion to be a doctor since I was old enough to remember anything. Nor did the sight of that “white coat” and the prestige that came with it light a fire in me. Rather inconveniently, I didn’t have an epiphany either. Nor did I have any particular faith in destiny. So when, after a rollercoaster(and not a very nice one at that) of a year post A levels, I finally found myself at the doors of the Ziauddin University MBBS College, I suppose I could be forgiven for being a little doubtful about my entrance to the next chapter of my life.

Fast forward two years though and (spoiler alert): it certainly wasn’t as bad as I feared it could’ve been. As I, along with the rest of my (very passionate) classmates, settled into the rhythm of the first year of MBBS, we discovered there were a host of things to focus on besides studies as well such as the diverse amount of extracurricular activities available, societies to join (3-4?), sports to play (with the most popular ones involving broken foosball and ping pong tables) and lush grounds to walk in (rented family park on the other side of the road). We most certainly didn’t spend our study breaks lounging in the Boys Common Room, or run off to the newest cafes nearby every other day for a hundred Instagram shots and regret it the next day when we looked at our empty wallets and we definitely did not wait for the last week before the modular exam to make the dreaded trips to the library.

Looking back though, when all’s said and done, I suppose it doesn’t really matter so much where we were and how we spent our time as much as it matters who we were with. Cliché, I know but clichés are clichés for a reason after all. The moments spent and the joke shared with the people you hope will continue to be your friends are the few things that count after all and stay on as fond memories in this fleeting journey called life.

I still can’t decide whether that’s good or bad but it’s a fact that time waits for no one. In particular, the general rigor of med school is such that it doesn’t allow you much time to spare a glance elsewhere. I suppose it can only get tougher as we proceed but at least in the first few months, life felt like a chaotic nightmare of books, unread notes, and jumbled brains from which we could never escape. Every new month, when we had our modular exams, it was the same plunging feeling and the depressing anticipation of long hours in the library while our non-med school friends enjoyed their weekends. And it did NOT get much better with the end of the exam as the constant stress over the results did not ever truly end until the result officially told you you passed. And by that time it was already time for the next exam.

Thankfully though, life eventually started to improve as I began to get the hang of med school. The initially bewildering combination of subjects and the content taught in them started to make sense slowly as I learned the beauty of how complex systems come together in our body and how we understand them. I discovered the satisfaction at the end of a module when I could finally claim, with at least some measure of truth that I understood how another part of our body worked. I feel so smart now🤓(the fact that I forgot everything about it the very next day will of course be conveniently ignored.)

‘2nd semester me’ was generally slightly smarter than ‘1st semester me’ and '3rd semester me' was probably better than both. I didn’t magically start balancing my academics, my social life and my life goals in general but I definitely took the step towards learning how to piece together the semblance of a balanced life. And from there on, it’s been a gradual uphill journey (it may also have helped the modules get slightly easier) as I tried to learn how to study smarter and still pass passably decently. Ever so slowly, I started to notice more openings in my calendar which allowed me to participate in several indulgences during 2nd year such as taking a more active role in the societies I was a part of. In fact, I even joined a new society: the Ziauddin Community Service Society (which is my favorite society at ZU, seriously guys join it!) and discovered that maybe there wasn’t such a dearth of opportunities here after all.

I guess ‘early 2020 me’ would’ve thought there would be more to this story but as it turns out, life does indeed have the most unexpected of turns which we all witnessed in the form of the worst pandemic of our times, COVID ’19. A lot has been written about that everywhere already but it will probably never be enough and merits its own story entirely. But that’s for another day. Till then, stay inside and stay safe!

“When it's a memory, you already know the outcome, so we believe it was an easier time. Looking forward is much more uncertain, and so feels more complicated. But I don't think it is. Not really.”

― Karen Hawkins, The Book Charmer