If you're about to join the thousands of students on the journey to become a physician, you may wonder what exactly makes medical school, well, medical school. Last year, I remember penning a piece about my expectations. Although the excitement, joy, and all-around love I have for the profession are still strong, by the time the summer after my first year began, I found these thoughts and emotions on the back burner of my mind. They were replaced by a miasma of uncertainty, exhaustion, and confusion. Frankly, I don't know where it manifested. By the end of my first year, I found myself sighing, rolling my eyes, and thinking about sleep far more often than I ever had before. No surprise: I took full advantage of my summer break to recuperate. Don't get me wrong—my fascination with medicine hasn't gone anywhere, but medical school has pushed me harder than anything ever before. The fabled expression comparing the volume of information in medical school to that of drinking water from a firehose is the absolute truth. I only have a little time left in what's rumored as the "last real break ever" until maybe fourth year or post-residency. Yikes! I spent my time touring the country for leisure while exploring my passions a little more. Admittedly, I did dabble here and there in medical research; however, most of my experiences were exploratory, if anything. It was a good summer to learn what I valued in myself while deciding on the sort of person—and in turn, physician—I want to be. With that said, I feel as though a lot has changed since I donned my short white coat for the first time. Here's what first year was really like, compared with what I thought it would be. Imposter Syndrome Everyone has a different perspective on what epitomizes the challenges in medical school. I'll throw my own two cents in and say it's the endurance battle. The high volume and rate of new information definitely gradually chip away at your mental endurance as you pass exam after exam; however, the true culprit that attacks your endurance is imposter syndrome. Believing that each of us was handpicked to join our class for a reason may help us cope with any sense of skepticism. I remember when I was first accepted to medical school that my friend and I both reveled in our respective accomplishments. She immediately joked, saying something that I have had a hard time forgetting: "Who did we trick to get in?" It was something I asked at that time and, to some extent, still ask now. Endurance becomes a question of how much self-doubt your confidence can take. During my time in medical school, I have had my fair share of moments when I wasn't sure if I truly belonged with a class of students who are exceptionally talented and poised to become this world's next generation of physicians. A little dramatic, but the sinking feeling of inadequacy seems to be a shared hurdle among medical students entering their first year. That is, until we bob and weave through all the challenges in the first months. The feeling of "new" transforms into a sense of the perfunctory; the challenges we first feared become more like common chores on the daily to-do list. At times I felt that I might be leagues away from some of my class counterparts in certain skills. I marveled at those who spoke about complicated physiologic pathways like they were a piece of cake. I was taken aback by my peers who could spend 12 hours at the library without reticence. I soundly slept while I had friends who woke up at 5 AM to hit the gym and review before lecture. I met students who had mastered distinct aspects of medical education. Over time, I saw them as mentors in their respective skills. It's hard to chalk their accomplishments up to natural talent when it seems clear that these skills were developed with deliberate intent. It takes years of dedication and commitment to polish a certain skill, and collecting a few gems of information from others who perform certain tasks better than I do might just go a long way. With that in mind, I do hope that my peers see me as a mentor in whatever skills I may have to offer my class. Although imposter syndrome is something most medical students have to come to terms with, believing that each of us was handpicked to join our class for a reason may help us cope with any sense of skepticism. Detachment and Mental Fatigue Other than imposter syndrome, another challenging factor that makes up a large portion of the endurance battle is detachment. In classes before medical school, you had the opportunity to marvel at how billions of probable pluralities arrived at respective sets of singular mechanisms that all interweave to form the complex processes of human physiology. In medical school, the rate of information makes it difficult to "stop and smell the roses." This left me feeling a bit distant from the material, as I tried my best to memorize and understand. Again, this is all part of a larger paradigm that will shape us into young physicians, and solutions are available to help you feel more connected to material. You can find this through educational outlets, YouTube, study resources, and conversations with professors. The final large contributing factor to the endurance battle is mental fatigue from everything else outside of medical school. Soon-to-be-doctor or not, you're a human being. You have obligations outside of school, whether this is your relationships, your extracurricular activities, or your family. Medical school is a job that takes many, many hours of your day. Naturally, signing up for other activities on top of school might be an overextension of how much your noggin can take in, if you are continuously under a large mental load. Obviously, time management and organizational skills are key here, but if it's getting in the way of your focus on the medical school material, it might be best to reconsider the activity or find a way to partition your involvement into something more manageable. Once in a Lifetime Don't get me wrong—although I'm describing some of the harder realities of medical school, the entire experience is one to cherish. This was definitely one of the most challenging years of my life, but it was also one of the most exciting. You meet so many people who are taking the same journey. Learning about everyone's backgrounds and reasons for joining medicine is compelling enough. Making friends who share the same values you do while coming from entirely different walks of life makes those weekends off all the better. Everyone has something new to contribute to the running dialogue that is life in medical school. One of the harder parts about first year is also consequently one of the funnier parts. When you begin to learn the language of medicine, your own vocabulary shifts. Often I found myself dropping medical words into conversations when speaking to my roommate or friends after class. During conversations with my peers, we struggled to think of nonclinical subjects and words that weren't technical, like "anterior," "posterior," "supine," and "prone." Going through the ups and downs of school with people around you makes everything a little bit easier. Having people to reach out to in times of need makes the whole experience more communal and far less daunting. Expectations for What Comes Next If you are aware of the challenges and have measured expectations, you'll quickly find yourself a second-year medical student, wondering how time flew by. Medical school is no stroll in the park, but every challenge that comes your way just prepares you for the next few hurdles. I can't imagine what sort of nightmares await me on the boards, during rotation, or even during residency. But having gone through the first year of medical school, I can see myself taking one step at a time, "gaining more XP points," and leveling up for the next big thing each time. (I played a lot of Pokémon.) Although I have gotten somewhat used to the medical school schedule, I'm sure that it will change quickly once the board exam gets closer, as I'll be studying for school and one of the biggest exams of my life. I've been lucky to pursue my passions in medicine, whether that means advocacy, communication, or education. Finding the balance between school and my dreams is a goal worth working towards. It's comforting to know that I have a support system of friends and family every step of the way. Thanks for checking in on my journey, and I wish you the best on yours. On to second year! I'll let you know how it goes. Source
