We Just Decided To + We Can Do Better

Today, I found myself re-reading a friend's blog entry about her ups and downs with JVC. Her entry veered into discussing change. She had this brilliant metaphor because it was so charming and reminded me of a few shirts and shoes that I own.

"Ruined for life” isn't an "Oh shit, I spilled wine on my white shirt! It's ruined!" sort of deal. It's more like those times you spill wine on your shirt, but it's only a little spot of wine and you don't realize it’s there until the fourth or fifth time you wear the same shirt after the initial wine spillage incident. By the time you realize the wine is there, it's been too long to consider the shirt "ruined." Besides, you've been functioning just fine with this so called "ruined" shirt that the tiny stain doesn't seem to matter; it's just a change you decide to live with.- Kristen M (more of her writing here)

The amount of clothes I have bleach stains on because of lab is kind of ridiculous. Sadly, bleach stains are not as exciting as wine stains. Moving on.

One of my favorite shows right now is The Newsroom and one of my favorite characters is the highly idealistic, regularly clumsy, but oftentimes brilliant MacKenzie McHale played by Emily Mortimer. Imagine The West Wing's ever optimistic Sam Seaborn played by ever effervescent manic pixie-girl Zooey Deschanel. Ok, I don't think that does justice to the character; actually that's kind of disturbing. The point is that the character charms us into believing in her idealism and choosing it. The point of her character is summed up by two thoughts: We Just Decided To and We Can Do Better.

Kristen and Mac's words are all about the choice that we oftentimes choose not to make or even acknowledge.

A little over a year ago, I had a choice to make. After months of waiting and receiving rejection letters from medical schools, I finally had my first acceptance letter. Of course during the months between applying and getting that acceptance letter, I had a little bit of an existential crisis. I was exhausted and dejected with the process and with myself. I ended up opening myself up to the possibility of spending a year in service. I figured maybe being rejected was life's way of saying "hey asshole, slow down and think of what matters the most."

I came to the decision of applying to JVC after a whirlwind weekend of going out in the Philippines and Hong Kong, two hungover flights, a lonely return to my house (the heat was broken during December), sleeping for 24 hours, and a whole Giordano's stuffed pizza. I scrambled around asking mentors for rec letters and trying to figure out what the heck the four values meant to me.

Well, all that misery and work came together during a week in May. I received my acceptance to JVC and medical school. Validation! (Not really...more on that in a bit)

I had to choose. My entire life, I can only remember wanting to become a doctor; I idolize my uncles for what they do. I have volunteered in several hospitals, done biochemical research, went on healthcare service trips, learned the basics of being an EMT, observed hours of surgeries, and studied my ass off (ask my cat; she hated it when I would ruin her sleep schedule cause I was studying). Living a life guided by benchmarks can be very unfulfilling because it makes me narrow my perspective. Experiences can be deemed superfluous when you're sprinting towards a goal. Do I keep living in the narrowed shallows or do I try something new?

Before I made my choice, I thought of my frustrations with medicine. I've seen doctors patronize their patients in places I've worked. I've seen patients get ignored because of an overall numbness. I've seen and read of how medicine has failed to tackle social realities (the lady in Honduras, Paul Farmer's anecdotes, or Lia Lee). I've read of how medicine has caused death in its selfish pursuit of success or money (The Deadly Corruption of Clinical Trials). My experiences with healthcare have at times glorified efficiency and action without reflection on human realities. These are the stains that I've come to realize as part of my undergraduate years. Do I choose to keep going and have my life simply guided by benchmarks or to really dig deep and figure out who, what, and where I want to be?

I could've chosen to continue in the narrows in going from benchmark to benchmark. I could have learned the science and the skills in becoming a doctor and I would have been amazing. But, the stains compelled me to be better. I felt boxed in and I had to learn about people first.

I chose to defer my acceptance. I didn't realize it then, but I was choosing to grow in a different way. I'm not saying I would not have grown if I went to medical school; I think medical school forces people to grow and mature, but all this comes in different ways and with different inputs. I doubt I would have met people like Kevin Molloy a future Theologian if I've ever saw one or Sarah Nietz a future activist if I've ever met one or Elizabeth Mahoney a future community organizer if I've ever encountered one. From my experience, the medical field draws a specific kind of person and that tends to create an insulated environment. I believe the reason that there are outliers, people who are not just scientists or physiological mechanics, is because they have opened themselves and chose to be otherwise. I think I subconsciously made that choice a year ago and continually reaffirm that choice.

I really enjoy what Kristen wrote because it highlights the subtlety of what life is about. It touches on the day-to-day moments that dirty my hands. It touches on my development through the years, my interactions with my patients, my misgivings with the healthcare system, and my shortcomings with what I'm doing. All the patients I've grown to love and all the stories I've heard of suffering, unpaid bills, or loss of housing are just moments within a year. Just like those stains that Kristen mentioned, I will carry the stories with me without really knowing where they are or what they're doing until I suddenly see a change in who I am.

Stains can be the joys of life or the pain of suffering. Those stains open us to a world of inclusion that Greg Boyle SJ talks about.

I used to look for "Aha!" moments. I thought those watershed moments would become benchmarks for my life where I thought I would know something. Things like a diploma or an acceptance letter were things I fought to attain because of the validation that come with them. Well, no. Seeing graduation pictures from friends, I began to reflect on my achievements. I used to think that once I got those pieces of paper, I would suddenly feel confident and reassured of my life choices. Well, nope. I've been as doubtful, as worried, as tired, as insecure, and as inadequate as I've ever been even with those pieces of paper.

They were not the watershed moments I had hoped for, but I feel different. Something in between each step of the process, between the pieces of so-called achievement and validation, I was already growing. I began to realize that the change has been happening constantly, endlessly, incessantly. Everything changes every single moment because every experience stains us. But, the stains don't matter unless we embrace them. Validation is about the stains that make my life more meaningful: the stains I choose to acknowledge that make me decide to do better. Kristen and Mac got it right.