- Joined
- Jul 7, 2022
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I’ve been thinking a lot recently, and medical school feels like it did last year when I withdrew from waitlists: like staring down the long barrel of a shotgun. You are studying for four years while your friends are out there living life and getting married. Residency can be anywhere between 3-8 years and it’s likely going to be hospital in the morning until hospital in the dark. You likely can’t settle down because there’s no garuntee you’ll match in the city you’re in or do a fellowship in the city you’re in. It’s social death, because how the heck are you going to build a community and have friends if you have to pack your bags and go somewhere? It’s emotional death, because you’re going to strain all of your relationships for years until I’m like, what, thirty-five? Thirty-seven? How many marriages have fallen apart due to training? How many missed birthdays, holidays, events? The money isn’t even that worth it either. After paying off your debt, you’ll be forty before you can spend it all. By then, you’re looking in the rear view mirror. Congrats on the Porsche. It’ll look real nice in the nursing home parking lot. If you have my health, you might not even make it there. You might drop after the 25th hour of your residency shift. All for the sacrifice of medicine. Most doctors I’ve spoken to hate with the ever-increasing red-tape and the fact that the healthcare system is increasingly a business-driven industry. And the people going into medical school are often bright-eyed young kids who don’t know what they’re getting into, because they’ve been pressured into it, or because they’re terrified of the thought of the “real world” so at least the medical school track, as harrowing as it is, is an assured future. Everyday, I wake up and check my email for II’s or A’s but I think the moment I get one I’ll feel happy for a bit, like a good ten seconds, and then the overwhelming dread will overcome me. Like watching, through the glass of my coffin, myself being slowly lowered six feet into the dirt. Gods, I WANT to be a doctor, I can’t imagine myself doing anything else, but I’m signing up for nine years of hell. Ask a resident. The healthcare industry doesn’t give a damn about you, just what you can do to increase its bottom line.
Anyone else feel like that?
How do I know this is right for me, before I’ve signed the death certificate of 400k debt?
Anyone else feel like that?
How do I know this is right for me, before I’ve signed the death certificate of 400k debt?
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