The attempt at quitting medicine: the letter of withdrawal

Ever felt that you wanted to surrender, despite only being on the road to success for less than a week? Did you ever feel envious of your batch mates who were earning cash, having long vacations, or doing job huntings? Did you even see yourself not being the person who you really want to be?

A while ago, I scoured through the documents file of our family PC. As I was looking for an authorization letter for family business matters, I stumbled upon a letter which I made way back 1st year.

And this is just not any ordinary letter.

It is not an LOA (Leave of Absence) letter.

It is a letter of Withdrawal.

June 19, 2009

ALFARETTA LUISA T. REYES, M.D.

Dean, College of Medicine

University of the East Ramon Magsaysay Memorial Medical Center

Quezon City

Dear Madam,

I am currently a 1^st year Medicine Student this school-year 2009-2010. Unfortunately, it brings me with a heavy heart that I am filing my Withdrawal from the College.

I graduated from BS Nursing last April of 2009, and recently, I took the Nurses Licensure Examination.. For 4 straight years, including the summer breaks and the 2 months of review prior to the Licensure Examination, I have been immersing myself on the study table, fervently and wholeheartedly studying my lessons in order for me to obtain a degree and, hopefully, a license. Though I had only a week’s rest, my mind was raring for me to enter the doors of medicine. Upon entry into the medical school, I found myself overwhelmed with the subjects and topics to be studied. My mind wants to continue on studying, but my heart and body was giving up on me. And as the days passed, my zest for studying has been slowly fading away. I did not want this to happen, but I believe that my capabilities have exceeded the limit, and that my mind, heart and body deserve a much needed rest from all the books and paperwork for now.

It was my childhood dream to become a very good doctor someday, and everyone, including me, believed in my capabilities to achieve and someday become successful in the medical field. But, now, I realized that I have found what my heart truly desires: to be a successful nurse, and hopefully, a nurse educator.

With this, I am officially filing my Withdrawal from the College effective today. I would like to thank you and the whole university for giving me this very honorable opportunity to enter the medical profession. If ever I return again to your college, I sincerely hope that the doors of the college of medicine will still be open for me.

Thank you for this wonderful experience.

Respectfully yours,

Jose Antonio L. Bautista

As I read the letter, this reminded me of the day that I wanted to surrender, the day which almost took away my dream in a near-instant. In just a matter of a few days after I started med, I started to have the deepest intention of quitting Medical School for the reason that I couldn't stand another day reading a book, much more something that was totally new to me. My mind back then wanted to continue going on, but my heart dictated that I should stop, that I should rest this one off for a long time. This was, for me, the biggest dilemma of mine in Medical School, much more, my studying career. Never in my life that I wanted to give up so easily in such a short time. My heart wanted to follow another track, the track which I originally started, which was Nursing. 

It was a classic case of burnout, academic burnout.

But as my parents' unwavering support for me grew, up to the point that they finally accepted that I can get a grade as low as 3.00, my heart started to become motivated again. My mind and heart cooperated with each other, determined to make a push towards the road less traveled. After the emotional talk with my parents, I discontinued my interest in quitting school. Despite not quitting, I made sure that I do not get to erase this letter, for this letter would serve me as a stern reminder of how I actually started and almost quit on Medicine.

Now, almost 2 years since I made this letter, I start to look back at what has happened in my life since the day I entered Med and almost quit because of burnout. A lot of things have happened and passed by but though there have been rough times, I have still kept the flame burning. The desire to become a doctor, a man with double professional degrees, a man with an RN, MD attached beside his surname, is almost near the corner. Next year, in 2012, our batch will become Junior Interns (JI), the last step into becoming a real-deal physician. The thought of quitting is now but a distant but significant memory in my life as a Med student: a memory that will remind me of the blunder that almost ruined my chances of achieving a childhood dream, a dream that everybody would want, but only very few can achieve.

Motorcycle and the city

Life can be seen like a Jack-in-the-box. One cranks the lever out of curiosity, until a clown pops out and surprises him/her. The thrill of surprises is a part of life, and it can either be enjoyable or forgetful, depending on the experience such surprise brings. In surprises, there are some that can be considered an adventure: a surprise that feeds on curiosity and returns back a once-in-a-blue-moon moment that is much more rewarding as it may seem.

Ever felt that all the necessities that you need are not at your disposal when it is most needed? Ever felt that you had to go to an urgent commitment and see that there is no transportation available for use? Ever felt that you don't want to spend cash just to commute? 

Well, here's one for the record books:

After I was online exchanging humorous blows with a great friend of mine and monitoring thesis updates, I prepared myself to go to the dentist. My dentist is quite far from where I live: it is situated in the heart of the Central Business District (CBD) of the country's premier business capital. After much preparation, I went out of the house, looking for a car which I can use to take myself to the dentist. Unfortunately for me, there was no available car in sight, except for a company van which I couldn't risk driving because of number-coding. The mere fact that there was no transportation available at my disposal irked me: I was about to be late for a dental appointment, one which I cannot afford to miss.

The thought of commuting ran into my mind. Though I am used to riding the jeepney and the taxi cab, I did not feel the need for commuting. Thrifty as I am (in a situation like this), I crossed out commuting as a solution to my transportation problem. I was running out of options, when all of a sudden, a radical idea barraged into my mind:

A decent motorcycle ride.

The thought of a motorcycle ride scared me at first. Riding a motorcycle has been a fear for people not used to taking such kind of transportation. In fact, this has been implicated in most traffic-related accidents, with more deaths than injuries on record. I know of people who had lost a part of their lives due to motorcycle accidents, most especially in areas where helmets are not a gold standard to wear (i.e. province). It was a risk for me to take, but risk-taking has been a part of my being spontaneous. I love surprises, and I love the thrill of adventure. Risking all the hazards that it may bring, I took on the challenge. Besides, it's only for just this once.

I went to my brother's office just a house away from home. I asked his secretary if I can borrow one of the company riders to take me to my dentist. Surprised as they were, I stood my ground, adamant on my decision to ride a motorcycle. I was informed of the risks, I took it in me, and replied that no one is to be blamed for any accident that may be incurred during the duration of the trip. Good thing a brave rider took my challenge: the guy was almost half my size, but he willingly accepted it and gave me a ride behind the motorcycle that he owns. 

Wearing a helmet on my head and the left earpiece of my iPod headset attached to my left ear, I hitched at the back of the motorcycle, taking a ride for the first time since my early childhood days. It was the first time for me, in such a very long time, to ride on the motorcycle, this time being a passenger taken around the busy streets of the CBD. It was a sunny Thursday, where all the people are about to return to their jobs from lunch, and where all the air pollution is rampant because of the thick congestion of cars and public utility vehicles jamming the streets and avenues of a bustling metropolis.

As the motorcycle started, my heart started to race. It was a thrill that I haven't felt since driving my Med friends to Laguna and back. When it started to move, the thrill intensified, and I was now moving along towards the busy streets on a 2-wheeled vehicle that posed a greater risk rather than a benefit, in terms of safety. When we made it past the simple roads, we then entered the jam-packed roads of the CBD. The breeze of polluted air and the heat of idle cars started to collide and were felt all over my body as the adventurous ride progressed. The rider zigzagged his motorcycle right past a bunch of cars, big and small. There was a time that during the overtaking moments, my shoulders would almost hit the corners of big cars. My heart would pound harder as the overtaking maneuvers were getting sharper, as the feeling of that was like I was about to fall off a motorcycle in almost fast speeds. We rolled over humps, a few ditches, and turned nearly-hard lefts and rights, but every dangerous action turned out safe in the end. It took me 10 minutes from home to make it into my dentist. After we alighted on the side of the road, I requested the rider to go back to the office and not wait for me, as I preferred commuting back home after my appointment with the dentist.

Riding a motorcycle is really scary when one rides on it for the first time. It takes a matter of getting used to it, usually after a couple of rides. The experience of riding on a motorcycle just to go to the dentist is a memory that I will never forget. To challenge my fears of riding such a vehicle along the country's busiest city is a once-in-a-lifetime event, for successive rides on it would bear no fear on me after this unique joyride. It may cause fear at first, but to ride it and experience the thrill of it is just so extraordinary, it'll make you become fearless afterwards. To feel the breeze all over your body is like immersing your body in front of a big fan, only thing is, there is a mixture of bad air from all the fumes that come out of other vehicles. In short, motorcycle rides is one of a number of highlights in urban living. It may be a drag, but in reality, it packs a smooth, yet, thrilling ride.

Try the motorcycle for one. It'll suck the fear right out of you, and replace it with bravery, and some bragging rights to slap on a hater's face from time to time.

You think going to the beach and hitting the blue waters is the only fun thing to do this summer? Well, think again.

The Tennis Camp experience, 6 years later

Playing a sport of your choice while at your prime is one of the most unforgettable moments that can be etched in one's personal memory. It is that unforgettable moment that signifies a personal achievement: one bragging right that can be flashed to others when one retires from a sport that is well-loved.

It has been 6 years since I last played tennis on a full-blast scale. The whole of my High School life revolved, not just around studies, but also around playing tennis, from the day back in 1st year where I started playing the game, until 4th year where I became a varsity player. Every summer, during HS days, I'd ask my parents to enroll me at summer camp, tennis summer camp that is. The whole of my summer is immersed into playing tennis: improving my personal game, playing junior age-group tourneys (and eventually lose), and meet new friends along the way. Those were the summer days back then which really molded me, not just a tennis enthusiast, but also as a person who uses tennis to build self-confidence and self-esteem as the game is improved, little by little.

Everything about tennis eventually stopped when I made it to college. The tight schedule, the irrevocable commitments in school, and the career path itself really took me away from playing the game that I love most. I was shunned away by college life from holding a tennis racket, hit tennis balls, and play my heart out. This went on for the whole duration of my college life. Only in Med school where my love for tennis was revived because of an annual sporting event in Med land: Palarong Med.

I came back to my HS Alma mater a while ago to join another summer tennis camp. It has been 6 years since I joined camp. Back then, I used to play with people who were just my age or just a few years older than me. By the time I returned to the courts that molded my love for the game, everything was so different. The environment was not ideal for my time and age. The people who I was playing with were kids and teenagers: the oldest teenager was just 6 years younger than me. Good thing, an old teammate of mine joined camp. But still, it was a big number of youngsters who dominated the group. Who would've thought that just because of an annual Med event, this would cause me to join summer camp which is specifically concocted for kids, and not just for young adults like me.

As I warmed-up before hitting tennis balls, I noticed that at first, my teenage-era, youthful energy came back at me. I sprinted and did laterals like I was just back in HS. As time went longer and as I started to play again, the youthful energy waned off, and I felt that I was losing my senses. I gasped for air like I have never gasped before. My vision started to narrow, and my body was starting to get heavy. Not only was I feeling the fatigue, my feet were starting to form blisters, just as I was wearing new tennis shoes bought for that occasion. Every time I was hitting tennis balls, the shots were flying in all directions. Though there were some shots that legitimately went in, most of the supposedly clean shots turned dirty. My forehand was rusty, my backhand was becoming less orthodox (I play with an orthodox single-handed backhand, unlike the modern two-fist backhand), my serves were going out of the service box or hitting the net, and my footing and leg bending was not proper. Though I had my share of these problems, only my net approaches and volley shots were still intact, all thanks to playing badminton during college and Med. All the trainers there said that I lacked practice, and I cannot deny it: I really lack practice. I have to admit, 6 years of not actively playing can cause severe rusting of a once-good playing style.

The worst thing that had happen to me during the 1st day of summer camp was that both my legs started to cramp. I couldn't sprint faster; I had to jog to prevent, as much as possible, my legs to go down on me. After 2 laps, my legs started to give away. Much worse, my left leg had the worst cramp. I had to call on a trainer to manage my severely cramping leg. I didn't go on sprinting after that. Instead, I just ended cool-down by doing a few stretches.

As we grow older, we only get to do, with ease, what is left of our youthful prime. Though I may still be young, long years of inactivity (except for occasional leisure games with Med teammates) can really take a toll on the playing style. I may feel that I am undergoing a state of readjustment. It will take some time to get back the old game. Nevertheless, the mere fact that joining summer camp again is just a good feeling. It's a good way to start summer to prepare for the upcoming Palarong Med a couple of months from now.