I'm sharing a creative writing piece that I produced while considering my feelings regarding imposter syndrome, learning to deal with difficult situations during my medical training, and ultimately the human condition through medicine.
The Descent
Despite my strength lying unquestionably towards my brain and not brawn, sometimes I feel like a modern day Hercules. I am a med student. I am a gunner. I am aiming to save lives - to be a hero. They talk of a God complex, so does that qualify me as a demigod?
It's midnight and I've just settled into the on-call room. Silence prevails save for the muffled sounds of machines uniting in a chorus of melancholy while distant foot falls and strangled voices ring strangely through the empty vestibule to materialize as grotesque monsters haunting the periphery of my semi-consciousness. The red flash from my pager jolts me. I don't even look at it because I know who beckons me. It's he who finds pleasure in our shortcomings, he who has the last laugh, and he who we defensively snort at; disillusioning ourselves into thinking we hold power over him because we cleverly fashioned an anagram to surreptitiously discuss our fear and discontent. Yes, the page is coming from the devil himself, Dr. Shade.
My feet move as though they are dismembered. I am my own guide through the darkened corridors, but really there is no worry for this is a one-way track. I pass by room after room, completely numbed to the frightful stories hiding behind each one. Some distant voice reaches me to say turn back, but I am at the mercy of a larger pull. After all, here I am! I’ve made it through the preliminary tests. I have worked hard and earned the right to pass into this world to ultimately come out on the other side as a hero. I have my goals and people’s best interest in mind, but I am not sure if I can pay the price to make it to my destination.
Scrubbing in has lost all substance. The water splashing across my hands appears ashen in the penumbra. This is it; I’m almost there. The two windows in the doors to the operating theatre are casting red glares in my direction. They lure me in and I am only vaguely aware of the irony that the red glow is in fact coming from the exit signs behind me. I amble forward uncontrollably, prepared to join the devil and watch as humanity dissolves behind me.
The Descent
Despite my strength lying unquestionably towards my brain and not brawn, sometimes I feel like a modern day Hercules. I am a med student. I am a gunner. I am aiming to save lives - to be a hero. They talk of a God complex, so does that qualify me as a demigod?
It's midnight and I've just settled into the on-call room. Silence prevails save for the muffled sounds of machines uniting in a chorus of melancholy while distant foot falls and strangled voices ring strangely through the empty vestibule to materialize as grotesque monsters haunting the periphery of my semi-consciousness. The red flash from my pager jolts me. I don't even look at it because I know who beckons me. It's he who finds pleasure in our shortcomings, he who has the last laugh, and he who we defensively snort at; disillusioning ourselves into thinking we hold power over him because we cleverly fashioned an anagram to surreptitiously discuss our fear and discontent. Yes, the page is coming from the devil himself, Dr. Shade.
My feet move as though they are dismembered. I am my own guide through the darkened corridors, but really there is no worry for this is a one-way track. I pass by room after room, completely numbed to the frightful stories hiding behind each one. Some distant voice reaches me to say turn back, but I am at the mercy of a larger pull. After all, here I am! I’ve made it through the preliminary tests. I have worked hard and earned the right to pass into this world to ultimately come out on the other side as a hero. I have my goals and people’s best interest in mind, but I am not sure if I can pay the price to make it to my destination.
Scrubbing in has lost all substance. The water splashing across my hands appears ashen in the penumbra. This is it; I’m almost there. The two windows in the doors to the operating theatre are casting red glares in my direction. They lure me in and I am only vaguely aware of the irony that the red glow is in fact coming from the exit signs behind me. I amble forward uncontrollably, prepared to join the devil and watch as humanity dissolves behind me.
