I just got back from the States. I went home for the weekend. And I crammed as much as I could into those precious 48 hours. It was wonderful. Continue reading
The semester is about halfway through. I am literally ten weeks away from graduating. The end of medical school.
I have to stop and think really hard about that. I can’t quite believe it to be true. Continue reading
I look around and can’t believe I am smack dab in the year 2015.
I graduate this year. Next week I will fly back to Mexico, return to campus and kick off the last of 10 semesters of medical school. Come June I will (knock on wood) be dancing the night away in a fancy hall for my graduation party. I will look smashing in some amazing, fabulous formal gown, not a hair out of place, expertly applied war paint (read: make up) and I will celebrate. And then, if I am really lucky, in August I will complete the last the last installment of my Masters in psychotherapy and I can celebrate again. Continue reading
It’s the middle of the night. I haven been postponing studying for my first Cardiology midterm since about two days ago. I’m now down to the wire. I leave for class in less than three hours now. Somewhere in one of the corners of my mind I am worried. The message of impending doom however, has yet to hit me wholly. Continue reading
I read back upon the last post with a bit of disbelief. The story with Alex was left without a conclusion, to be sure. But frankly, I don’t wish to stroll down memory lane. I’m in such a different place right now, I recoil at the thought of falling back in any way shape or form.
I’m currently in the middle of my ninth semester (of ten) of medical school. Incredibly I haven’t really suffered what’s considered to be one of the roughest semesters of the program. I’m different now; I have changed so much so that anytime I take full stock of me, this me, I have to grin in amazement. This a great version of me. Continue reading
On the last day of my three-day weekend. I’ve spent it with Grams. My anxiety is at an all time high. I waver between being happy and moping, though the last 24 hours have been more of the latter. I move as though I were underwater. I’ve no energy, no desire to do a damn thing. Continue reading