So I want to talk about . . .

sacrifice.

Because I realized that starting this magical journey called medical school was going to mean giving some things up.

Sleep, for example. Free time. Decaf.

But it's been so much more than that. Because while you're a medical student, at some point realize you don't have the time or energy to be anything but a medical student. Of course you're still a mother, sister, lover, brother, friend-all those things you inherently are. And inside you might remember that you used to be a whole lot of fun on weekends, or a jazz singer, or a high-school basketball champion- but one by one those hobbies start to take second place to the endless stream of lectures and clinical vignettes and shelf exams and patient interviews and licensing exams and rounds and. . .

whoa. Every few weeks I stop and look around and just wonder where I went to. For the past two years I've spent day after day doing none of the things that I love doing, doing none of the things that I'm great at doing.

And I do this because I suspect that one day in the not-too-distant future I will love my job and I sincerely hope and believe that one day I will be great at it.

But today is one of those days. When I look back at my summer, which was eaten alive by studying for the USMLE, when I look back at the past two weeks when I have done nothing but sit in class, interview and poke at patients (still working on my physical exam skills), and lie on my floor studying. And I know it's temporary, but I just look at myself from my imaginary video camera on the ceiling and see. . . a medical student.

Hmm.