Tight with strain, my eyes easily glaze over at any chance they get. Subsisting on fast food, I've abandoned exercise for a bit, and in all likelihood am drinking too much. Check that. I told my wife, "yes, I know I'm drinking too much. If I'm still doing it in 10 days, then you have cause to be concerned."
And yet I emailed my wife just the other day, "in some weird, twisted strange way, I'm almost enjoying myself." I started with real patients last week and this week marks the finish of the first leg of a sprint begun in August. It's exam time. The first of four this school year. And they don't mess around. Seven exams in ten days, probably in the neighborhood of 600ish questions in total. I'm not sure I'd ever want to do this whole training gig again but I must admit that I am thrilled at the opportunity. I do not regret it one bit. I vary between thoughts of "oh shit, I don't know anything, I'm screwed" to delusions of "meh, it won't be that hard." It ain't easy. And nevermind all the obvious emotional associations of what I'm studying being being inextricably wrapped up with my brother and dad. But despite it all, I love the fact that I'm doing this. I feel alive.