How Is My Final Year? Dreadful.

I’m sorry for not writing for a while. I need time to adapt to new environment (as I just moved into a new house) and new stressful classes and ward rounds (as I just entered final year last July). I am dedicated to write and share more, as that’s what I do best. Instead of writing a thread on twitter, I think it’s more appropriate to write here. Twitter is for nothing but rants, period.

So yes, I have entered my final year as medical student, yehaaww and I am doing my second clinical posting; surgery. I have few months left before graduation, and hopefully I’ll be able to see the end and finally be able to answer “Why I start?”. It is not easy, obviously. Perhaps, this year (read: final year), is the hardest of all.

Only three months into it, it drained all my energy and spirit. No soul left. Imagine, you step into same clinical postings you been through the past two years but with different environment and expectations.

They expect you to know everything, to assume you have seen everything, to memorise all the procedures and complications; from simple abdominal examination to the complicated rectal examination which never in my life I performed such procedure on any patients but the doll. There are so much procedures which I never get the chance to familiarise myself with, if I am to list all of them, it will go on and on.

This is when I start questioning “How can I compete with local graduates, who have more advantages in clinical procedures?”

How can I know my fate? Sigh

Not to mention, the exams and marks we need to get to graduate. Any slight decrease in our marks will totally drag us down, make us become vulnerable and inferior to our friends. We become competitive, not to compare who has highest marks of all; ain’t nobody got time for that. We compete to survive, to see who can stand the longest without collapsing.

Last two weeks, I was scolded by senior resident while presenting my case. It was my fault for not clerking the case properly, or thoroughly. But least I can say here, I was terribly traumatised, because I was scolded in front of my other friends, i am afraid they might be thinking if I was not competent enough to survive medical schools, or if I am one of the doctors who is dumb but luck save me yadaa yadaaa. Unfortunately, I was scheduled for another presentation next week. I lost confidence in everything I did, even I prepared my slide for days, practicing until midnight; it was still not enough.

This goes back to when I first made my decision to enter med school. I thought high school was hard enough but yeah I’m dumb. I knew med school would be a tough choice, but never have I ever thought it would be this mentally depressing.

I would never suggest anyone to further medicine if I can say that least. For no specific reason. It’s normal if being a medical student, once in a while you feel like quitting or suddenly hating the choice you made five years ago. Or feeling like a loser when you keep losing the battle of Who Is The Brighter Of All?!.

I mean, if you want to further medicine because of how the profession is highly spoken and respected by people, or because you want a stable career to feed your family, then don’t. You are not doing yourself a favour at all. You will bring your mental health to the ground unconsciously. Finishing medical school is not the end, you just starting. You can never stop. It’s one of the professions which require frequent updates on knowledges, managements and drugs yadaa yadaaa.

You think you can do it? Think again.

To add more, I just lose half of my support system at the beginning of my final year. Most of my close friends graduated last June, and yeah bitter truth, they left me. So it isn’t easy, going and surviving without them.

All I gotta do is surviving and keep going. I can’t back down, not yet. I am at my limit, but I can push beyond it more. To all the tears I shed, all painkillers i took for my headache, and the weights I loss because of back to back exams I had, all is well.

All is well.

4 thoughts on “How Is My Final Year? Dreadful.

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