This week marked the return to class. We dove straight into emergency skill drills, the prospect of producing something from my (very-behind) research, and a healthy dose of fear. Beginning this final year is a little petrifying. I find it quizzical that I will soon be responsible for keeping new humans alive. Yet, in my real life I find it so difficult to find my keys, wash dishes, and eat only a sane amount of cheese.
Like most of my classmates, I’ve struggled sometimes with the decision to spend this many years in school. Bottom was last spring. I remember studying desperately in the backseat of a car coming home from a weekend trip to the coast. Months of no sleep had me crumbly and depleted. I was countering with so much coffee that my thoughts had turned awkward and strange. I loved my practicum and adored my preceptor, but in prioritizing fun over work I realized how deeply I missed my old, more spontaneous, life.
Who knows what holds true when you are that over-tired, but through the haze I remember clinging to everyone around me who seemed to be able to hold.themselves.together. I begged my brother to make me soup. Or find someone who would, immediately. This display of raw need was so unlike me, I think it shocked us both. I didn’t really know how I was going to write those exams, let alone make it to September.
This summer cured me. There was the intensity of receiving 65 babies into my hands. Some of them made it, a few of them didn’t. Either way, Uganda made these years of choosing studying over dance-parties make sense. Then, the much needed prescription of four weeks of hiking, biking, paddling, surfing (attempted), and tent-sleeping worked its magic.
And, now, here I am. With no words to describe this kind of expansion. This kind of full. I think it might last.
If not, I know where to find it. Its in green beans. Falling in love. Napping on docks. Lake swimming. Whiskey over ice. Picking blackberries. Guitars on the stoop. Mountain tops. It is in doing something hard, sitting with the discomfort, and finding (against all expectations) you are a happier person in the end.