Fears About Medical School

Medical school is one of those conversational references for comparison in tough situations:
“Don’t be complaining about that tough client, at least you’re not in medical school!”
“Listen, at least I have a social life–It’s not like I’m in medical school or something.”
“9 to 5’s or medicine? The choice is yours.”

While I’d like to sit in the comfort of my career choice while confidently rolling my eyes, I admittedly have some concerns. With my last few months of undergrad started and medical school right around the corner, my dream of becoming a doctor — a dream I’ve had since I was 7 years old — feels like it’s finally going from black and white to technicolor. And while I am excited to start the next chapter of my education, I am also grappling with some real, tangible concerns about the road ahead. These concerns are not enough to deter me, but enough to cause my inner critic to surface in times of doubt. Here’s what keeps me up sometimes:

1) Academics
I’ve been told time and time again that medicine is going to be a different ballgame than anything before. No matter what experience students may come in with as an engineer or English major, nothing can fully prepare them for medical school. I’ve been told that it’s not only intelligence that determines who is successful–it’s how resilient and perseverant you are at plowing through high volumes of material (and fast). The analogy that a surprising number of people have used is “…like drinking from a firehose.” Medicine truly has its own language and it is understandable that students need to learn all of the 3D anatomy, terms, and concepts to become fluent in it. But will I be able to tackle the busy and crazy years of studies ahead?

2) Work-Life Balance
Recently, I bumped into a friend who is in medical school. I was thinking about places to live once I move downtown near the hospital, and he gave me some tips. I thought it would be ideal to live a bit farther from the medical campus, and have some separation from school and studying. I could make friends with people outside of medicine and stay away from the sirens at night. But he had different thoughts: due to the high number of classes, practical activities, research projects, and interest groups, he found it helpful to be closer to campus and have a shorter commute in order to maximize time to rest. Besides, in the colder months, it is apparently common for students to stay in for most of their days, studying and attending online lectures. When academic engagement at such a high level is a part of the culture, I’m worried about how I will make time to take care of my mental and physical health. I hope to be able to find time to eat healthy and be well-rested, but I’m not sure how this will pan out with such busy days.

3) Environment Change
I have spent most of my time in the pretty quaint college town of Evanston. The connection between on and off-campus was very strong; I found myself bumping into familiar faces inside the library and the local Panera. When I start medical school, I’m going to be in Chicago. Not a suburb or quieter district of the city, but just a few blocks from North Michigan Avenue. I’ve never lived in a city before, or managed public transportation, fitness, rent, and of course schoolwork within the confines of a 400 square foot space on the twenty-something floor. Unlike undergrad, my best friends are not going to be in the dorm next door, and the dining hall is not a 2-minute walk away. Learning how to manage these different elements in a new city can sound exciting, but it also brings me a lot of apprehension.

4) Specialty
I’m aware of the fact that it is not smart to decide your specialty choice too early. Before knowing the physiology, pharmacology, anatomy, and pathology of every organ system to a scarily high degree of detail, it is tricky to know what you really enjoy and like learning about. Not to mention your clinical experiences–you have no idea which types of pathologies, patients and procedures you find passion in! Despite this awareness, I frequently get questions from friends, family, and strangers about what area of specialization I will be pursuing. “You seem like you would be great with treating kids!” “Do you think you want to be in the operating room for the rest of your life?” I can’t help but think about which types of patients I would best enjoy and thrive at interacting with. I have a concern that I won’t feel proficient enough to pursue any specialty, or that I won’t be able to make a strong decision that I can confidently stand by.

5) Age
According to the American Association of Medical Colleges, last year the average age of a student at the start of medical school was 24 years. (Last year, the range was from 18 to 52 years.) When I begin medical school, I will only be 21. I have heard from several advisors that emotional maturity is much more significant than age, but I can’t help but worry about what inherent barriers I may face with 2 to 3 fewer years of experience than most peers. This could potentially affect how I interface with patients, or even my capacity to make friends with classmates. I’m willing to take the necessary steps to go outside my comfort zone and level the playing field, but I’m still concerned.

I take comfort in recognizing that many other premed students share some of the same concerns. I also take comfort in reading about the stories of countless young women who succeeded in medical school and overcame their uncertainties about stepping into the field. But as someone who enjoys a certain degree of predictability and setting expectations for myself, I still have a lot of fear of the unknown. I’m sure that time (and resources through my medical school) will settle some of these worries, and help me find direction, confidence and excitement in the type of medicine I will eventually practice—but the wait is intimidating. I feel like I’ve waited so long to dive into medicine, and I want to make sure that I make the most of this privilege and honor.

Perhaps the ambiguity in one’s medical journey is just the nature of the beast, or perhaps finding validating experiences to carve your own path is an unspoken expectation in the Hippocratic Oath. Whatever the case may be, I can’t wait to begin conquering it myself.