Good.

Sometimes, you think you’re helping others, when in fact, they are the ones helping you.

During my second year of medical school, apart from listlessly burning my days away studying the profound anomalies that occur with the human body, I am assigned a “mentor” with whom I would practice certain skills over the year. The mentors were generally of older age and had a combination of medical anomalies that they had to care for. For a medical student, it was a gold mine; not only did we actually understand the medical terminology that defined part of their lives, we also were able to apply some of the knowledge that we poured our tears into obtaining.

While most of the people in my class were excited for those reasons, I was nervous. I thought I was going to be offering comfort and conversation to a lonely man/lady who was aging away. There was nothing wrong with that, but the fear of saying something insensitive, wrong, awkward, or un-intelligent always hung over me. These thoughts haunted me until the moment she opened the door. As soon as I saw her face, her beaming face, I knew my fears were silly. It just takes that personal contact to know everything will be okay.

During my numbered visits, I would have a questionnaire that pertained to a specific topic my professor wanted to cover. My mentor’s and my bond grew so strong within those few days that our time would be spent 90% chatting and 10% hastily answering the questionnaire. I was COMPLETELY WRONG about my initial thoughts: here was a strong lady, mentally and physically. Despite juggling multiple chronic illnesses, she never lets them define her ONCE. She continues her hectic schedule without letting anything stop her. At the same time, she is mindful of her body. She knows when to take it easy, when to slow down, and when the prime time is to accomplish her goals. Every time she explained her triumphs, they were unequivocal.  In the face of adversity, let no one see it on your face. You control your fate. You control yourself.

Today was my final day with this beautiful lady, and I was very sad to say goodbye. When I got into my car, the culmination of the entire experience hit me; I hadn’t realized how much her attitude affected me. Her strength, resilience, and calming aura seeped into me, filling pores that were weakening. She taught me how to correctly treat patients, and the struggles that they often have to go through. She showed me the arrogance of a physician, the impact of communication, and the effect of effective listening. She shaped me.

And before I left, my author mentor signed a copy of her recent book published, saying,

“You are good and will become a great doctor!!”

That’s all I need. Thanks for believing in me.