bursting love into the sky

thoughtsonasunday: All of your dreams will appear according to the amount of positive and good thoughts you deliberately think each day. But you must seize every opportunity to deliberately activate those good thoughts. It’s not about giving your attention to negative thoughts - it’s about rampaging hundreds of good thoughts whenever you can.

someday i’ll look back at this with different eyes. but for now dear God, please give me the wisdom to make the right decisions. 

it has been difficult at times to say the least. some days, which feels like most days actually, i feel like giving up. it feels like all i do lately is wait. for something to happen. for moments to come. i don’t feel like i have anywhere to go anymore and i’m afraid my life is just going to pass me by. success and things are of our own making. there is always an element of luck, but the trick is to be always prepared so we can seize opportunities. right? and right now it feels like i’m drifting in and out of life. the problem is i’m not quite sure where i want to go anymore.

I am scared. I know I’m supposed to be a grown-up now, someone sensible who pays taxes and worries about hair loss, but I’m still scared. I feel like I’m standing at the open door of an aeroplane, about to jump, unsure if my parachute will open and knowing that even if it does, I will spend a significant period of time hurtling towards the ground, my stomach in my mouth, wishing the whole thing were over. And the thing that’s really annoying is that I have no one to blame by myself. I was the one who ticked ‘medicine’ in the careers box at school. If only I’d missed and ticked ‘media studies’, I’d be well on my way to being clued-up on thinking outside the box and where to get the best lattes, rather than an expert on anal warts and leprosy. T.S. Eliot was wrong; it’s not April that’s the cruellest month, it’s August, because that’s when final-year medical students up and down the country are rudely awoken to the fact that they are now doctors and introduced to exactly what this entails. Medical school has been rather like a long holiday punctuated by the odd sick person. I can’t pretend finals were much fun; memorising whole bookshelves, devouring them like sweets only to regurgitate them back half-remembered in a sweaty exam hall, legs twitching from the combination of ProPlus and triple espressos. But then again, for six years things were fun. It was like playing at being a doctor. When Christmas holidays came and the gauntlet of family parties had to be run, everyone looked lovingly at you. ‘Oh, he’s training to be a doctor, you know,’ was the refrain, a collective sigh would be heard, choirs of angels would chorus on high, and I would exude a divine light which would bathed the assembled admirers with warmth. People like doctors, or rather, they like the idea of doctors. In fact, they like the idea of knowing a doctor. They only like the idea of knowing a doctor because the reality is that knowing a doctor is very dull; they are tired and complain a lot, and are often rather boring because all they do is work. But a medical student is a lovely compromise; all the kudos of being a doctor but without the bags under the eyes or long moaning telephone conversations about how the NHS is going down the pain and how if everyone had to pay for health care they’d soon realise what a bargain they were getting and shut up. And so I have spent the past six years nicely cocooned in ‘medicine-lite’. I’ve never had to work a night shift. I’ve never had to make a clinical judgement. In fact, I’ve never even prescribed a drug my whole life. But as of tomorrow, this will all change. Because as of tomorrow, I start work as a doctor. And I am scared.