Leap of Faith!

I got to watching Scrubs again, right from the very start. When it originally aired, I hadn't even started out in Med School. So, back then, it was just another hilarious sitcom. But, watching it again, after so many years and now,being in the exact same situation myself, I can't help but feel as if it's me they're talking about. Every moment of the Pilot has been everything that I've gone through over the past 6 months - it's been a hell of an experience - at times, exhilarating and bitterly disappointing at others.

Life as an intern, as Madhura/Vineet/Varun n co. will attest to ( after having to sit through yet another session of what seems like a never-ending round of me bitching about stuff), isn't always all that great. It's like the 1st day of secondary school all over again. One moment you were top dogs, the next you're knocked down to size. In the hospital scheme of things, we're right at the bottom of the pile, below patients, obviously and maybe, just maybe, above the "obnoxious relatives". In simpler words, Ego.Balloon.Big pin.You get my point.

The one thing that I'll vouch for, and I'm drawing huge parallels with the Pilot here, is that all 4 years of Med School/endless lectures/whatever it is that's supposed to get you "ready" isn't going to help you much. Once you're dropped into the endless stream of patients, as J.D puts it bluntly, you realize "I don't know jack". It's basic instincts then. Fight or flight all over again.

The only way you're sure you'll learn is by practice. And that was a, how shall I put it, somewhat difficult situation for me. Because, right at the very start, I was scared stiff. The truth is, everyone's scared. Most will never admit it. It's not something like litigation that I'm worried about. For me, it's, as it has been for a long time, a great fear of failure. And, by failure, I'm not talking about exams or passing; but to a significant extent, a failure to live up to expectations. Considering that I do well academically, I expect myself to be just as good at the nitty-gritty "manual labour part. And, when I don't get it right the 1st time, or sometimes, even the 2nd or the 3rd, I start to feel it's a pattern/ or that I'm "doomed to fail" at this. Or, at worst, I might give up before I start.And blame everything, from my phenomenally poor motor skills, in part due to the misshapen stubs that I have for fingers. Therein lies the problem. If you don't do, you'll never be good at it. But, if you never try, then you stand no chance of ever doing it and doing it well.

And so, the first few months of the Internship passed away, without significant loss of life or limb, but without me having "achieved" a great deal. There were numerous incidents along the way, including one where I got my fingers stuck in a forceps while performing a venesection -thereby reinforcing my great fear of my own short, stubby digits. Surgery at the start was great, but playing it safe. So, when you consider - an amateurish attempt at assisting an Appy and another time having my fingers up a humongously fat guy's arse trying to what could only be described by an observer as "tearing the bloody thing apart" - as my only "crowning" achievements, you could understand the state I was in going into what was described as the posting that was certain to make us regret every single waking second spent in the hospital.
Obstetrics and Gynaecology as a subject isn't anywhere near the things that I like. And the posting was obviously going to be much, much worse. Going into it, I was just about as confident as a foot soldier in the battle of Helm's Deep, facing an entire army without knowing if there was to be a Gandalf to the rescue...


The first day of Ob-Gyn was something that I don't think I'll be forgetting in a while. It was three of us interns, with all the experience that 2 months of a Surgery posting could ever give, thrown head first into what was clearly a battlefield. It seemed as though every single woman in the place had long since decided that she was going to achieve a lifelong dream of motherhood in those 6 hours in the morning. Now, 8-10 deliveries in 6 hours might not seem a lot at first glance, but trust me, it is, even for a place like Sassoon. So, that was honestly it. Sink or swim. With no time to think, not even to see if you could actually swim. I can't ever be sure how we did get through that, but we did. And when the dust settled, and the cords were cut, and the placentas disposed off, we were still there. Tired as hell, but there all the same.

Why is it so indelibly etched, then? Not just because the stream of oncoming babies literally kicked our collective asses. But, I did realise that I could just about hang on, when it mattered.

Does this seem like the archetypal moment in every single person's life, when you finally break that one barrier holding you back and realize that you are finally on the path that was always meant to be? This wasn't one of them. Not really. Honestly, that happens only in very cliched, cheesy books/ films, or as they say, anything that Chetan Bhagat pens down.

If this was supposed to be one of them , I guess it would've played out with us being instant heroes, saving lives and what not, riding off into the sunset with the rest of the posting merely a blur on our paths to eternal glory.

The posting didn't get any better, and with Pediatrics to follow, that made for the most frustrating three months of my life. The first day wasn't an all-conquering experience, but I guess it geared me up to face the rest of it.

To end this, since I have made numerous references to Scrubs and talked about my hatred for cliches, I guess I'll just be a hypocrite and end with one. A voiceover, then, if you please...

"I guess life isn't really about one single defining moment. You don't really have a flash of enlightenment. What life is lucky enough to do for us is provide a hell of a lot of tests along the way, most of which you don't realize are tests till you've gone through them. When you are faced with what seems like one though, I suppose the best you can do is know you can, rather than think you might not. And take a leap.You might just surprise yourself.
When did I realize I was cut out to be a doctor? Honestly, I'm still not sure. But, with every passing day, I hope I get closer to convincing myself." No, seriously.