Inside Out

I have alwayswanted to be adoctor.Manyaspects ofmedicine enthralled me: research, diagnosis, and the possibility of improving a patient’s quality of life, in particular.Walking the corridors of a hospital felt exhilarating. At 15 I had a volunteer position at the local hospital. Although my assignments were answering phones, directing visitors, and, my favorite, delivering goods topatients, I found that simply exchanginga few wordsandpotentially liftingspiritsofhospitalizedpatientswas rewarding. I hoped to one day continue to lift patients’ spirits and contribute to their care. A few short years later, my perspectiveandexhilaration forhospitals tookadramatic turn. I had just completed my first year of college in a 7-year combined undergraduate and medical school track. I was moving forward with my meticulously laid-out plans and was excited to start a summeroforganic chemistry. But first, I had a 10-daybreakandaquick visit to seemy familybefore resuming class.At home, the firstorderof businesswas to see thedentist for thecold sore-like lesionthathaddevelopedweeksago. I felt fine andwasn’t concernedwhenhehadme schedule a referral appointment with a periodontist, who then sent me for blood work. I fell asleep that nightwith thoughts ofmy future and no worries. But that peaceful night’s sleep has not happened since. I was diagnosed with leukemia, and I remember how hearing theword“leukemia”broughtonacacophonyofemotion. Fear, anger, disbelief, determination, and frustration envelopedme all at once. I watched in foggy fascination as the doctor tended to mymother, who was struggling to remain conscious. It was so unlike her, but cancerwas so unlikeme. I argued that I could not go directly to the hospital; I risked losing momentumwith my academic career. My pleas were to no avail. Everything became a blur, and yet even now I can recall it vividly. Abonemarrowbiopsy followed,andthen Iwasadmittedto the hospital. Being captive in a building where I once dreamed of spendingmy future seemed like a sick joke. However, it was no joke, and Iwas indeed sick. For the next 26 days I lived every moment in the place of my dreams, which had become a nightmare.Myonly physical activitywaswalking the corridors, now absent of joy. I quickly adopted the Notre Dame motto “Play Like a Champion Today” and attempted to fight through each obstacle I came up against.Within a day, I had begun induction chemotherapy and been notified that I urgently required a bone marrow transplant to survive. At 19 years old I was experiencing the hospital from the inside and all I wanted was out, a complete turnabout from a few short years earlier. Awholeslewofnewpeopleenteredmyworld.Doctors,nurses, physician assistants, and nurse practitioners were nowmy closest contacts. All were the players in my newly shrunken existence. I wouldcomeacrossvolunteersandwonder if, likemyself,theynever envisioned being the patient. I could tell them you never know. Iwatchedtheanticsofmy fellowcollegepeersviacomputer. My former world was no longer my reality. I ate hospital food when I could keep it down while Facebook posts of friends’ mealsnauseatedme. Ienviedtheir freedomandability todothe simplest of things. I lost my hair and they dyed theirs pink.They sweated in the gym to stay trim and I lost 50 pounds without trying. They complained of exams and professors, while I fervently wished to be able to be immersed in that world. Ultimately, I spent 102 nights in the hospital. Still, I aspired to work alongside inspiring physicians and, eventually, I returned to school to resume my studies. I am now a medical student, and I appreciate everything about my endeavors. My passion for medicine is a fire within me. I have much yet to learn and look forward to it being lifelong. Although I remained committed to medicine, my enthusiasm for hospitals now comes with stipulations. Today, I adopt a more serious demeanor as I walk along hospital corridors. I cannot forget being a patient in a bed, teetering between life and death. As a future physician I know what a privilege and grave responsibility I bear on my path toward becoming a doctor. I know life is short and there is a lot to do. So, excuse me as I make my way down these hospital halls—there are inpatients here yearning for the outside.