I’ll be honest-these last weeks have been rough. Waking up before the sun rises, being in lectures far after the sun sets, studying until I find myself asleep on my keyboard at 3am, trying to make time to volunteer, to work out, to cook, to eat, to call home, to be the eldest sibling, to read, to write, to unwind, to keep up with peoples’ lives. The distinction between weekends and weekdays have faded and time keeps slipping. It has been a balancing act, and my scales keep getting heavier and heavier.
I’ve been praying everyday for patience, perseverance, strength, to carry more than what I have the previous day. I’ll be honest-these last weeks have been rough, and life is rough, and being an adult is rough, and independence is rough. But I’m okay. Rough is okay. Rough means I’m surviving.
On clinic days I take my stethoscope, wrap it around my neck, walk into patient rooms and introduce myself. They have an expectation, they deserve my best, and if that means waking up early, studying until my brain can’t even, sacrificing free time to attempt to touch the tip of humanity, then that’s what I’ll do. It is what I have to do. It is what I want to do. It is what I’m doing. The thing is, every time I walk into a patient room, there is never regret. All the stress, all the fatigue, all the worries are left at the door. That’s how I know all these prayers are being answered, all these rough patches are temporary. I’m just so thankful for it all.
A lot of my reflection posts comes from experiences I jot in a planner for future days, like today, when everything seems unbearable. I find myself sitting in coffee shops, stressed from the mountains of material I need to learn, pulling out my planner and looking at all the knowledge I have acquired, the goals I have accomplished, and the experiences I have had. I realize that today, just like yesterday, and the day before, and the week before, and the month before, will pass, and I will survive, and I will become stronger for it. It seems silly to gain so much morale from a planner, but I am a pretty silly person who finds pleasure in simple things. I have to. There’s too much complication in the world.
These last couple of months have been a marathon. But in them I have learned that the best motivation can be found acknowledging your feats and using them to look forward. You did it before, so you can do it now, and you will do it again. Then the cycle repeats, and you keep on carrying on.