So, residency ! The words resounded in my mind. I'd seen all my seniors and colleagues here. Feverish, sweating it out, studying, going craaaaazy. But here it was ! Finally.
It's never the end of the road in this career. Just when there's an end, there's another beginning.
I couldn't help but think 'I saw myself here. I saw myself here when I worked those nights and thought it would never happen, when everybody told me it was tough. When I thought about how I would have to somehow manage a good score.
When would those exams end?
Where could I go?'
I feel people underestimate the value of a dream. I really feel that way. I think people should be allowed to savor the fruits of their dream for a while. It is what sets forth the desire for new aspirations and new joys.
Internal medicine, I'd always wanted. In a university hospital. Now here it was. Overwhelming me with its simple presence, just like that, like a happy bird on my shoulder. And yet I knew I'd worked for it. All those nights I sat and read and highlighted and reread and gone for this dream, repeating cups of tea, wearing myself into a thin, pale version of me with dark circles, acne, when I looked uncared for, just reading, having a zero social life. What would it be worth, when I don't know where I'd end up ?
All of this. Today.
I'm here. This exciting, scary moment, when the dream hasn't even begun yet. When I've hope that all goes well, and I'm prepared for almost anything. The real hardwork, the exciting part, the craziness hasn't even begun.
This morning, as I got yet another pre employment check done at the hospital I'd worked in previously, I met my mentor.
She is a big buff in oncology, a good woman. Someone I have a love/sometimes-warm-sometimes-wanting-to-run-away-from/admiration/scare relationship with. Someone I'd like to professionally resemble in honesty, administrative knack and practice.
'Take the good parts' the Dalai Lama often says in his speeches. Take the good parts.
She handed me a copy of 'The Emperor of All Maladies - A biography of Cancer' by Siddhartha Mukherjee.
She was in a red cotton saree. So typical. Dr. K, the intimidating head of medical oncology in her cotton saree, and the pleated fall of the fabric over her shoulder falling over so nonchalantly, just like the way she walks and talks. Without a care in the world.
"I want you to read this", she said, looking at me warmly. Warmly ??? I thought. When I think of her I think of hot coffee/iceberg. I imagine her drinking her coffee in slow, laid-back style in her cup and saucer, and a few minutes later, the cup and saucer flying out of her room, because the patient files took too long to arrive.
"You will relate. You will grow, and you will understand so many things that I related to when I read this book", she continued. "You will enjoy Connecticut. It's a beauuuutiful state !", she drawled. "I studied in Connecticut. It's where I did my fellowship in Oncology in the seventies. You will love New Hampshire and Vermont. And the fall is so, so beautiful. Aarthi this is all you'll ever want, trust me."
Suddenly I felt like Andrea Sachs sitting in front of the Miranda Priestly from The Devil wears Prada.
Here she was, talking to me, making every hair on the back of my neck stand. I wanted to belong, all my life to a dream. I knew that inspiration was on to me. I could become anything. 'I AM wet cement', I thought, and it's my call, now !
'Fellowship in oncology. Hmm. History repeats itself..have you heard about that ?' a statement in my mind quietly crept in.
'Shut up' I quipped back to it, 'I don't know if I want oncology, and I'll never ever want administration. I haven't even Started MD ! Quit counting chickens already ! ', shocked at where that even came from.
'Oh, you know it you little devil, you.'
'I DONT !!!!! I have no plans. I am passionate about community health. I'm too peaceful and calm a person to want something so big. Maybe I'll ale up endocrinology because I love it. I want a slow, small life. Maybe I'll get into primary care. The future is unwritten', I fought back.
'That's the best part. You'll figure. But small life ? You ? Ha ! Haha !'
'WTF !'
Crazy. Two halves of my mind were conversing with each other, one taunting another, while Dr.K painted pictures of the fall and the snow at Hartford in my imagination with her words.
(photo credit : Facebook.com)
I loved and hated it that I had dreams. Dreams that might flower and dreams that might not. But I had the freedom to dream. Not dream about my life tied to anybody else's.
But the real dream !!! Of being somewhere beautiful and the opportunity to do something phenomenal ! Of realizing my own worth, for myself. All these amazing physicians I've met and adored, whose knowledge, careers and experience I'd looked at with thirsty eyes, didn't just get there like that. They'd had big dreams, studied at wonderful places and really worked their asses off. Of course, they did !
"So you leave in three days. How are you spending your time ?" she asked.
"Packing my bags. Paperwork. Staying up nights. Writing. Reading. Behaving like it's the end and the beginning of the world at the same time. My room is chaos. One moment I'm thrilled and the next, I'm going nuts. It isn't what it's drawn out to be. I am not partying with my friends, I have no farewell, there are no glamorous selfies on Facebook, no phenomenal status updates, and when I look around, it's just so unlike a typical send off. Even my mother is in another country right now", I said, almost panicking at the number of things I had bottled up.
"It always is that way, Aarthi. Keep busy, do your own thing. When I went there in the seventies, I didn't even know how to bear the seatbelt on the airplane. It was my first flight ever. I was just packed off to a place with no Indian food in those years by my ambitious parents. Hardcore Gujarati girl that I was, I didn't have too many options, specially with food. I had 108 US dollars with me. That was it. I packed a few things here and there and just took off."
What do you pack anyway when you're taking your whole life to another country ? Have you ever asked yourself this ? What can one pack ? Mementos ? Cards ? A house ? A whole life ? What is it that I won't find there ? I mean people live there too. Very happily. How do I even know what the limit is ? I could pack the whole house and this and that. There's no end to wanting.
(photo credit : Facebook.com)
What do I take with me ?
"Take with you what you won't find there." she continued.
"Which I might figure once I actually get there and miss it" I responded.
We laughed.
What does one take to a new country anyway ?
Cosmetics ? Kitchenware ? Indian clothes ? Indian stuff ? Photographs ? Memories ?
Clothes ?
Clothes ???
Never mind. The Devil wears Prada.
'Oh ! what happened to the simple life, missy?'
And so it goes on.
-Aarthi
It's never the end of the road in this career. Just when there's an end, there's another beginning.
I couldn't help but think 'I saw myself here. I saw myself here when I worked those nights and thought it would never happen, when everybody told me it was tough. When I thought about how I would have to somehow manage a good score.
When would those exams end?
Where could I go?'
I feel people underestimate the value of a dream. I really feel that way. I think people should be allowed to savor the fruits of their dream for a while. It is what sets forth the desire for new aspirations and new joys.
Internal medicine, I'd always wanted. In a university hospital. Now here it was. Overwhelming me with its simple presence, just like that, like a happy bird on my shoulder. And yet I knew I'd worked for it. All those nights I sat and read and highlighted and reread and gone for this dream, repeating cups of tea, wearing myself into a thin, pale version of me with dark circles, acne, when I looked uncared for, just reading, having a zero social life. What would it be worth, when I don't know where I'd end up ?
All of this. Today.
I'm here. This exciting, scary moment, when the dream hasn't even begun yet. When I've hope that all goes well, and I'm prepared for almost anything. The real hardwork, the exciting part, the craziness hasn't even begun.
This morning, as I got yet another pre employment check done at the hospital I'd worked in previously, I met my mentor.
She is a big buff in oncology, a good woman. Someone I have a love/sometimes-warm-sometimes-wanting-to-run-away-from/admiration/scare relationship with. Someone I'd like to professionally resemble in honesty, administrative knack and practice.
'Take the good parts' the Dalai Lama often says in his speeches. Take the good parts.
She handed me a copy of 'The Emperor of All Maladies - A biography of Cancer' by Siddhartha Mukherjee.
She was in a red cotton saree. So typical. Dr. K, the intimidating head of medical oncology in her cotton saree, and the pleated fall of the fabric over her shoulder falling over so nonchalantly, just like the way she walks and talks. Without a care in the world.
"I want you to read this", she said, looking at me warmly. Warmly ??? I thought. When I think of her I think of hot coffee/iceberg. I imagine her drinking her coffee in slow, laid-back style in her cup and saucer, and a few minutes later, the cup and saucer flying out of her room, because the patient files took too long to arrive.
"You will relate. You will grow, and you will understand so many things that I related to when I read this book", she continued. "You will enjoy Connecticut. It's a beauuuutiful state !", she drawled. "I studied in Connecticut. It's where I did my fellowship in Oncology in the seventies. You will love New Hampshire and Vermont. And the fall is so, so beautiful. Aarthi this is all you'll ever want, trust me."
Suddenly I felt like Andrea Sachs sitting in front of the Miranda Priestly from The Devil wears Prada.
Here she was, talking to me, making every hair on the back of my neck stand. I wanted to belong, all my life to a dream. I knew that inspiration was on to me. I could become anything. 'I AM wet cement', I thought, and it's my call, now !
'Fellowship in oncology. Hmm. History repeats itself..have you heard about that ?' a statement in my mind quietly crept in.
'Shut up' I quipped back to it, 'I don't know if I want oncology, and I'll never ever want administration. I haven't even Started MD ! Quit counting chickens already ! ', shocked at where that even came from.
'Oh, you know it you little devil, you.'
'I DONT !!!!! I have no plans. I am passionate about community health. I'm too peaceful and calm a person to want something so big. Maybe I'll ale up endocrinology because I love it. I want a slow, small life. Maybe I'll get into primary care. The future is unwritten', I fought back.
'That's the best part. You'll figure. But small life ? You ? Ha ! Haha !'
'WTF !'
Crazy. Two halves of my mind were conversing with each other, one taunting another, while Dr.K painted pictures of the fall and the snow at Hartford in my imagination with her words.
I loved and hated it that I had dreams. Dreams that might flower and dreams that might not. But I had the freedom to dream. Not dream about my life tied to anybody else's.
But the real dream !!! Of being somewhere beautiful and the opportunity to do something phenomenal ! Of realizing my own worth, for myself. All these amazing physicians I've met and adored, whose knowledge, careers and experience I'd looked at with thirsty eyes, didn't just get there like that. They'd had big dreams, studied at wonderful places and really worked their asses off. Of course, they did !
"So you leave in three days. How are you spending your time ?" she asked.
"Packing my bags. Paperwork. Staying up nights. Writing. Reading. Behaving like it's the end and the beginning of the world at the same time. My room is chaos. One moment I'm thrilled and the next, I'm going nuts. It isn't what it's drawn out to be. I am not partying with my friends, I have no farewell, there are no glamorous selfies on Facebook, no phenomenal status updates, and when I look around, it's just so unlike a typical send off. Even my mother is in another country right now", I said, almost panicking at the number of things I had bottled up.
"It always is that way, Aarthi. Keep busy, do your own thing. When I went there in the seventies, I didn't even know how to bear the seatbelt on the airplane. It was my first flight ever. I was just packed off to a place with no Indian food in those years by my ambitious parents. Hardcore Gujarati girl that I was, I didn't have too many options, specially with food. I had 108 US dollars with me. That was it. I packed a few things here and there and just took off."
What do you pack anyway when you're taking your whole life to another country ? Have you ever asked yourself this ? What can one pack ? Mementos ? Cards ? A house ? A whole life ? What is it that I won't find there ? I mean people live there too. Very happily. How do I even know what the limit is ? I could pack the whole house and this and that. There's no end to wanting.
What do I take with me ?
"Which I might figure once I actually get there and miss it" I responded.
We laughed.
What does one take to a new country anyway ?
Cosmetics ? Kitchenware ? Indian clothes ? Indian stuff ? Photographs ? Memories ?
Clothes ?
Clothes ???
Never mind. The Devil wears Prada.
'Oh ! what happened to the simple life, missy?'
And so it goes on.
-Aarthi
