A Tribute to the Lazy Med Student

This blog has been hacked to bring you this special post. Thanks to my dear husband, many of you know me as "Sadoodoo", and I would like to share a moment in time with all of you.

I have a dark and scandalous history with the field of health care. I will not elaborate on that except to say that perhaps as a result, I'd scoff at the people wanting to be doctors, dentists, etc etc. Shakil knew I wasn't exceptionally thrilled that he wanted to be a doctor, but obviously I would support him, as was expected of a good wife. I would support him, despite the fact that it was not the ideal life, being the wife of a medical student, having to deal with an irritated, stressed husband who is constantly under pressure, who doesn't have normal sleeping cycles, who can't eat meals with you like in a normal household, who never has one-tenth of a second to spare, and who transforms into delicate eggshells on weekends before exams. No, it's not easy learning to live with a person like that, on top of having my own classes to worry about, maintaing a clean house, cooking, keeping on top of the bills, groceries, and being the permanent PR person to family members on both sides.

So you say, cry me a river. Ok, fine, maybe it's not *that* bad. It's kinda nice, being in charge, doing things my way (more or less) and letting Shakil just focus on what he needs to do to succeed in school. But the point is, the toll I saw med school putting on Shakil just gave me another reason to think, ugh, medicine is awful.

Then last Friday we went to the White Coat Ceremony. I'm sitting with my father-in-law sharing a laugh at the expense of the cermony, mocking it's gallant attempt at motivation. As the evening drew on, some nice words were spoken, the ceremony was well executed, and we had to sit and watch a billion students get coated. It was *almost* as bad as graduation ceremonies. As I sat there, watching the students with huge lopsided grins, the happiness in their eyes shone brighter than the chandeliers in the room. And when Shakil walked off the stage with a white coat now over his attire, I choked up thinking two thoughts.

The first was about the medical profession. I remembered having a conversation once with Shakil about why he wanted to be a doctor. I told him he could have entered many other fields that required much less work, much less stress, and sometimes much more money! He told me then that of course he could have, but that work would never have satisfied him knowing that he wasn't utilizing the knowledge and skills Allah blessed him with to help those in need. As I sat in my chair watching him, it became clear to me what those words really meant, and the responsibility that coat added into our lives, to the lives of all those accepting white coats. What I saw sitting there, was the nobility that existed in the medical field's purest form, minus all the politics and red tape. I watched with a sense of awe and respect at those students so willing to burden themselves with that magnificent responsibility.

My second thought was that it doesn't matter that this was his dream up to this point, because I am no longer an uninvolved bystander offering support from a distance. From here on out, this is a bittersweet struggle and a dream that we are living and experiencing together. When inshaAllah he walks off of another stage four years later with two tiny letters after his name, that will be the result of a battle that we experienced, survived, and conquered together by the grace of Allah.

And so the ceremony that was supposed to be the motivation for the student-doctors became an inspiration for me to live for the deam that my husband began, and that together we will end, insha'Allah. On a last note, the one line I remember vividly from all the speeches was the following. May your days ahead be as bright as the coats you wear.

Here are some photos from the ceremony. Enjoy =)

...the sea of white coats.

...the cadaver lab!!