One Semester Doctor

Dear Nabeel,

I’m writing to you on a cold Monday evening, having just finished my first day of the Māori Health intensive. Perhaps this evokes some memories for you.

It’s hard to fathom that I’ve already completed a semester of medical school, a dream you’ve nurtured for so many years. By the time you're reading this, I'm sure you've navigated a remarkable journey filled with growth and reflection, gathering experiences that have shaped you into the person you've always envisioned becoming.

I sincerely hope you've preserved the genuine care you possessed when you first started. Even after just one semester, I often ponder the vulnerability of wearing your heart on your sleeve.

Expressing your true feelings can deepen connections with colleagues and patients, but it also exposes you to pain. Nevertheless, cultivating your empathy and sensitivity will prove invaluable as you continue forward. These qualities, when nurtured wisely, will become your greatest assets. Please don't close yourself off when pressures rise; instead, strive to find a healthy balance, embracing deep feeling while managing the challenges of medical training.

I wonder if your reasons for pursuing medicine have evolved over time. I hope you've discovered motivations that anchor you firmly, keeping you grounded amidst the turbulence. Medicine is tough. Despite believing it might feel easier after completing a Bachelor’s and a Master’s degree, it still demands every bit of effort to simply keep up.

At times, I genuinely feel a bit insane. Who willingly chooses hardship when an easier, more stable life is within reach? Yet, I remind myself that this struggle serves a purpose far greater than myself, that maybe the pursuit of pushing my physical, emotional and intellectual limits, and then being able to make a difference in the lives of others, is what I find so alluring.

I wonder if this romanticised idea of selflessness still resonates with you. Does medicine remain your passion, or has it become merely a job?

I’m curious about where you are as you read this letter. Many things can change in five years. You might have lost friends or loved ones, drifted apart from people who were once close, or welcomed new individuals into your life. I hope you've learned not to take everything to heart or internalise every emotion, and most importantly, not to let medicine define who you are.

Remember, you're part of something greater, a purpose larger than yourself. You've certainly taken the scenic route to medicine, dedicating your life to reach this point. I hope you appreciate how truly fortunate you are. Honestly, sometimes I question whether it's worth it. It occasionally feels dishonest when we claim we're driven by selflessness. Choosing medicine might actually be the most selfish decision I've ever made. If I'm truthful, I'm doing this for myself.

Though I can't fully explain why, I feel deeply that I belong here.

Do you ever regret sacrificing tea time anime discussions with your sister or those comforting moments on the kitchen bench with your mother as delicious aromas fill the air? What about the peaceful walks, listening to her recount her day. Being away for extended periods, chasing my dreams, is undoubtedly challenging.

Yet perhaps these moments feel precious precisely because they're finite, a reward earned through dedication. Maybe, without this pursuit, these simple joys would lose some of their sweetness.

I know clearly the type of doctor I aspire to become, and I sincerely hope you haven’t changed. My goal has always been to stay true to myself, my values, and my beliefs. I don't want to lose myself to this profession or blend into the crowd. I aspire to feel deeply and to stand side by side with my patients, resisting the pressures and hurried pace of medicine.

It was surgery that drew you into medicine, the intricacy fascinated you. While completing your MDes, declaring your surgical aspirations came easily, though perhaps somewhat naively. Is that fire within you still burning strong?

Standardised tests never showcased my true abilities, and having my aptitude defined by grades is frustrating. That barrier made entering medicine especially challenging.

You've carved a unique path to reach medical school. likely the first in New Zealand to enter with a Master’s in Design. Do you recall how, in high school, medicine seemed unattainable? How those labeled as "intelligent" dismissed your dreams? Yet here you are, you simply never gave up.

Since starting medical school, you've learned the clichés of life hold profound truths. Being accepted wasn't the peak of your happiness; rather, it was the six-and-a-half-year journey filled with friendships, experiences, sweat, and tears that you cherish most.

When confronted with hardships, remember they're part of your journey, moments to be valued. Each challenge presents an opportunity for profound personal growth. Embrace these moments, understanding they're not merely obstacles but the very experiences that define you.

Ultimately, how we respond to life's daily trials shapes us, and sets the tone for who we ultimately become.

Warm regards,

Your past self