As I sat on the dock of Dr.Shambra's dock, my belly full with homemade burgers and fresh veggies from the garden, watching the sun go down as the sound of a poor imitation of Jimmy Buffet eminated from the local marina pub, I finally felt relaxed for the first time last week. Yes, it was definitely a week of change; I've learned that change always brings growing pains. Saturday, after spending the morning studying, I took a much needed break and strolled around the grounds of the spacious VA park located in front of the COM. The VA used to be a place for the "old soldiers to come and die". Funny how now people such as myself are learning how to make others live. Yet as I study, I realize that in four years I will still be just as helpless when it comes to curing mankind as I am now. I will still be limited by the same imperfections of humanity of those who I am supposed to cure.
It's a futile practice really, the imperfect trying to perfect the imperfect, a real "blind leading the blind" so to speak, but like Christianity that doesn't mean I should give up in pursuit of perfection. Rather, like being a Christian, I should try toward that perfection but realize that it is only God that can ultimately grant that perfection, that "cure". The more I study the human body, the more I admire the perfectly designed complexity, the fine engineering as each part works together with the conjunction of thousands of other parts in perfect union to operate what we call person. I don't understand how anyone could look upon such fine craftmanship and order and say this stemmed from chaos.
The M2s gave us a "practice" practical part of the exam tonight. Let me just say that just as none of us are equal on the outside, neither are none of us equal on the inside. It wasn't bad, and I think I'm well-prepared for any innervations, insertions, motions, etc. that may appear on the test. As each day passes, I get to know my peers better and enjoy this thing they call "med. school" I realize that some of them will never see past the dollar and job of medicine. For the rest, I hope to share with them all that I have been shown through my experiences, the art, beauty, and joy of serving our fellow man.
I leave you with the lyrics to Chris Rice's latest song which I had the privilege to hear for the first time the other day. It has to be one of the best pieces of advice I could give someone:

Carry your candle run to the darkness

Seek out the helpless confused and torn

Hold out your candle for all to see it

Take your candle and go light your world