MedHums: Sacrificial Ceremony
I’ve already promised Giskin that I would write something for MedHums, and though it seems criminal to recycle posts (for I did tweak this one), I think the message of the post matters much more than the manner in which it was (re)constructed (for it was written by me anyway). I don’t know about you (medical students), but I still shudder on thinking of the life that I will give up for to save lives. I will never regret doing Medicine; I only wish to never look back someday and curse myself for not loosening the strings a little bit.
Oh well, that’s what the holidays are for: to worry about things like these. And eat.
Whilst my patient was being prepped on the operating table, Shaun (the Upper GI surgical registrar) and I had an honest chat. It started with a simple “Oh, why did you decide on surgery as a speciality?”, but soon developed into a complexed discussional affair that interestingly touched on topics such as kids, art history and pangs of guilt. Small, little, minutely-built Shaun, wrapped up in sterile drapes, masked, gloved, fingers on the ready, told me what I wouldn’t dream to hear anyone who has walked down that path say - “Your life, Diyana, is already consumed by Medicine and you know it.”
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