Salaam,
I'm on nights right now and I just squeezed by with only four hours of sleep. There is a mandatory diversity session at my residency tomorrow that I have to attend from 1-5pm, thus abdicating a full morning of sleep. I should have slept more, but I'm so excited that I have a little bit more time to write because I'm sleeping less.
Earlier this week, I decided to resume taking vitamins for hair and nails. I had taken these vitamins consistently for several months during medical school and saw some real results in terms of not only hair health but hair length unparalleled to my previous efforts. I stopped taking them, actually, only after I had lost some weight and the pills started making me nauseous. At that time, I also started doing some other hair care things that really improved my hair health overall, and I have seen more strength, health and growth than I have seen since I was 12 years old. I have had some breakage at my crown, though, so I decided it would be a good time to bring hair vitamins back into the mix.
Hair vitamins also have B complex, which is helpful for me for stress. When I started taking B complex in medical school (before I started hair vitamins), my mood improved tremendously in just a couple of weeks of resuming the vitamins.
Anyway, on the eve of taking the hair vitamins, I decided to also straighten my hair to trim my ends. I sometimes trim my ends with my hair straight so I can retain some type of straight shape, and other times when it's kinky by just clipping the ends of twists in my hair. I wanted to straighten it just to get a sense of its straight length.
After straightening my hair, I saw that my hair is actually longer than it has been probably since 2006 or so. It made me realize that I was not able to retain any length in my hair during medical school, probably mainly secondary to vitamin deficiency and stress. It's still odd to look at myself with my hair straight, not only because my hair lives in a puff atop my head for most of the year (which is actually conducive to breakage at my oft-neglected crown), but the last time my hair was straightened, it wasn't this long.
Because duh, hair grows.
And while I reveled in my new hair health, a baseline that so many take for granted, when I slept the next morning (since I'm on nights, I sleep during the day), I had a dream that I had straightened my hair and I was surprised to find that my hair was significantly longer--12 inches longer. And I reveled in having long hair just to awake and remember that though my hair is longer than it has been in a while, it is not that long.
And then I became instantly disappointed in myself.
Long hair, don't care? I feel like that is not a reality for many, if not most, black women. More like, long hair, absolutely do care.
I have lived a life that I tried to be as little about my hair as possible, in some parts of my life more than others (namely, the years where I wore khimar). After having a mother who fussed over how my hair basically dissolved away after chemical treatment, I did not to have any part of continuing that tradition, so I went natural. I stopped letting chemicals seep into my scalp every 6 weeks in favor of my natural texture, the touted "new growth" that for several years had been the nemesis to my attempts at bone-straight hair. I went natural, and all of the straight hair fell out. That was in 2003.
Years later, when the likes of Curly Nikki and Naptural85 and all of these other naturalistas came out, I had already arrived at a hair regimen of my own that mirrored popular natural hair care culture. Braiding my hair and then undoing it to have a longer puff was stretching, that thing I did to get spiraly hair was called flat twists, among other things.
I have worn my natural hair when it is only a few inches long and have struggled with it, sometimes inadvertently destroying my hair. I have not been about length, I have been about health in my daily hair care practices. The fact that I wear my hair in a puff most of the time is a testament to my favoring low-maintenance hair styles for my life as a busy resident.
But regardless of how I feel during the day and how much I am an advocate for love your body, including your hair, as it is, I have persistently had these dreams as an adult. As a child, I have not, only as an adult have I had these dreams where I wake up and my hair is significantly longer than it actually is in real life.
And I guess that's just it. At a subconscious level, I want to have much longer hair, hair that I can straighten and let blow in the wind, hair that I can let shrink and shake about my head and still have some length to it. It usually happens after I do my hair in a way I find particularly cute--invariably, I'll have a dream where it's even longer, and even cuter.
I think the fact of the matter is, subconsciously, so much of my idea of femininity is connected to long hair, and not just longer than men's hair, but long hair at base. And I've never had the length of hair that is in most cultures considered unquestionably female. And while the styles of my hair are generally more female, I have to count on the contours of my body and the way I dress to express more of my femininity, especially in those days I'm in a rush and can only do a puff.
And I wish it weren't like that. I wish I didn't have that subconscious desire to have longer hair, but it is there. It sometimes haunts me in my sleep after a day that I feel like was otherwise content. I know it's not about anyone else--it's about me. Because in the dream, each time, I'm waking up in the morning, preparing for my day, and looking in the mirror in surprise. No one else compliments me, no one else becomes attracted to me, no one else cares. It's just me in front of the mirror, marveling at my own self.
I'm usually thinner in these dreams, too, but I'll save that one for later.
Showing posts with label USMLE. Show all posts
Showing posts with label USMLE. Show all posts
Monday, September 8, 2014
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
The Other Side of the Storm
Salaam,
I'm waking up on the other side of the storm. I just completed 5 weeks of inpatient medicine where I was a senior on service. It was great - I learned a ton, I taught a ton, and I have so much more to learn. I passed Step 3, I'm completely done with the USMLE and I'm one step closer to being a sho' nuff doctor. I'm coasting through the rest of second year with all outpatient rotations after being fairly front-loaded.
And my life around me is a bit of a mess.
I'm sure I have some rotting food in my fridge that I'll soon be obligated to touch to throw out, my bathroom is the nastiest I've ever let a bathroom get (I have a low tolerance for bathroom mess), I have one load of laundry left to do, a bunch of clean laundry to hang and a whole new bunch of laundry piling up in my hamper. I have weeks of eating hospital food catching up with me and I'm off my wellness game. I have evaluations to complete, procedures to log, continuities to track, all sorts of things. I basically have my work cut out for me right now.
But...I'm going to take it one step at a time. Tonight, laundry will go unwashed, the tub will keep it's ring, the rotting food that is now frozen in time in my freezer will freeze another day. After clinic, I will go to the gym, I will come back and do a hot oil treatment, shower and shampoo, and then chill the rest of the evening.
Early spring cleaning? I'll save that for Friday after the gym.
I admittedly let myself go during this last block in favor of being a present, active, senior. I had a bunch of awesome interns that made my job easy. And I think I did the right thing. In order to be as fully committed to service as possible as a resident, you have to siphon some energy from other parts of your life sometimes. The part that I didn't want to sacrifice were relationships. So I kept relationships up and running, maintained the bare minimum personal hygiene, and pushed forward on service.
Last night leaving was relatively cathartic. But residency goes on.
Now what? I have a full day of clinic, then I begin our behavioral health block. I look forward to hanging out with my second year class and sorting out the untidiness in my life and faith right now.
On a slightly unrelated note, I only have nightmares when I sleep on my back. Last night, I had a disturbing dream that the world around me was being destroyed by huge bombs. Already, several people had died and the world was left in a state of anarchy and uncertainty. I was back at home, and it was only my mother and I at home at the time. I don't know where my father and brother were. I was sitting at the table, eating a breakfast of mixed fruit (which was dream fruit so it didn't look like real fruit) that I think was good. My mother and I were having a good morning, shrouded in the fact that we were living each moment like we could get killed the next. It was so scary, but I was a full physician at this time and I had to drive out to work. The problem was, I didn't know which route to take. There was a freeway exchange in my dreams (way back...I'm reaching back, now, because I hadn't had a dream about that exit in a while) that I usually avoided taking when leaving Ann Arbor but that I'd have to take because my other route had recently been destroyed.
And although we knew that we could get killed at any moment, our moments were filled with constant prayer and we had faith in God that we would be seen through. And with all of this on my mind, I ate the fruit plate before me and chatted with my mother about the state of the world as the sun shone more brightly than it usually does in Michigan and as the deceptively tranquil day was before us with blue skies.
I woke up, fearing for my life, sleeping on my back with my head to the side, looking at my open closet. Not sure why I only have nightmares when sleeping on my back.
I'm waking up on the other side of the storm. I just completed 5 weeks of inpatient medicine where I was a senior on service. It was great - I learned a ton, I taught a ton, and I have so much more to learn. I passed Step 3, I'm completely done with the USMLE and I'm one step closer to being a sho' nuff doctor. I'm coasting through the rest of second year with all outpatient rotations after being fairly front-loaded.
And my life around me is a bit of a mess.
I'm sure I have some rotting food in my fridge that I'll soon be obligated to touch to throw out, my bathroom is the nastiest I've ever let a bathroom get (I have a low tolerance for bathroom mess), I have one load of laundry left to do, a bunch of clean laundry to hang and a whole new bunch of laundry piling up in my hamper. I have weeks of eating hospital food catching up with me and I'm off my wellness game. I have evaluations to complete, procedures to log, continuities to track, all sorts of things. I basically have my work cut out for me right now.
But...I'm going to take it one step at a time. Tonight, laundry will go unwashed, the tub will keep it's ring, the rotting food that is now frozen in time in my freezer will freeze another day. After clinic, I will go to the gym, I will come back and do a hot oil treatment, shower and shampoo, and then chill the rest of the evening.
Early spring cleaning? I'll save that for Friday after the gym.
I admittedly let myself go during this last block in favor of being a present, active, senior. I had a bunch of awesome interns that made my job easy. And I think I did the right thing. In order to be as fully committed to service as possible as a resident, you have to siphon some energy from other parts of your life sometimes. The part that I didn't want to sacrifice were relationships. So I kept relationships up and running, maintained the bare minimum personal hygiene, and pushed forward on service.
Last night leaving was relatively cathartic. But residency goes on.
Now what? I have a full day of clinic, then I begin our behavioral health block. I look forward to hanging out with my second year class and sorting out the untidiness in my life and faith right now.
On a slightly unrelated note, I only have nightmares when I sleep on my back. Last night, I had a disturbing dream that the world around me was being destroyed by huge bombs. Already, several people had died and the world was left in a state of anarchy and uncertainty. I was back at home, and it was only my mother and I at home at the time. I don't know where my father and brother were. I was sitting at the table, eating a breakfast of mixed fruit (which was dream fruit so it didn't look like real fruit) that I think was good. My mother and I were having a good morning, shrouded in the fact that we were living each moment like we could get killed the next. It was so scary, but I was a full physician at this time and I had to drive out to work. The problem was, I didn't know which route to take. There was a freeway exchange in my dreams (way back...I'm reaching back, now, because I hadn't had a dream about that exit in a while) that I usually avoided taking when leaving Ann Arbor but that I'd have to take because my other route had recently been destroyed.
And although we knew that we could get killed at any moment, our moments were filled with constant prayer and we had faith in God that we would be seen through. And with all of this on my mind, I ate the fruit plate before me and chatted with my mother about the state of the world as the sun shone more brightly than it usually does in Michigan and as the deceptively tranquil day was before us with blue skies.
I woke up, fearing for my life, sleeping on my back with my head to the side, looking at my open closet. Not sure why I only have nightmares when sleeping on my back.
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Single Invisible Muslimah, Part I
As salaam alaikum,
I don't know how I missed this article at AltMuslimah...it's totally what I needed to read, always.
"[...] as a community, we are so focused on grooming our women to be wives and mothers that we lose sight of the fact that this is not even our number one role.
"Servitude to Allah (swt) is our number one role. We need to use what He has given us, the means that we have at the moment we have, to worship Him in the best of ways."
Preach it, Sister! See the full article here: Wifehood and Motherhood not only ways to paradise.
This paragraph was also encouraging:
"God, in His Wisdom, has created each one of us differently and in different circumstances. Some recognize this, love any stage they are in, and develop their abilities to the fullest. Let us, too, use the time and abilities God has given us to maximize our worship to Him and work for the betterment of society and humanity as a whole. If wifehood or motherhood comes in the process, then at least we were using all of our ability to worship Him before it came and can continue to use the training and stamina we gained before marriage to worship Him with excellence once it comes along."
Ameen, sis!
The article starts out with a Muslimah aimlessly making her way through college, really just buying time until she finds a husband and marries so she can have children. In my heart of hearts, I felt like this was me.
No one else sees me this way, and when I talk this way, it seems incongruous with who I actually am.
I am the 12-year-old girl who helped her mother copy articles for her Auntie Florence's dissertation in Nigeria and aspired someday to attend graduate school. I am the 12-year-old girl that, in researching careers, was choosing not only between medicine and architecture, but considered specifically the specialty of OB/GYN. I am the 13-year-old girl who took two math classes in middle school so she could be in the advanced science-math track. I am the 15-year-old girl who participated in a conference and initiative to try to address the achievement gap with black American students. I am the 18-year-old girl who graduated in the top 5% of her high school class after taking 7 AP tests, all 4s and 5s, and had gotten into all of the colleges she applied to with a full tuition scholarship to the one she would eventually attend. I am the 17-year-old girl who definitively embraced Islam and decided to become more practicing once in college.
I am the 18-year-old girl who entered college toying with the idea of becoming an MD/PhD, focusing on genetics. I am the 18-year-old girl who fasted Ramadan for the first time. I am the 19-year-old girl that started to develop her social consciousness and the idea of entering medicine as a service career, serving Allah (swt) through serving fellow human being. I am the 19-year-old girl who found a dream medical school and began to develop myself in college to be able to gain admission there. I am the 19-year-old girl who decided to double major in Cellular and Molecular biology and Spanish. I am the 20-year-old girl who juggled her double major, working in the lab, volunteering in the Children's hospital, tutoring students in Spanish and helping Latino children and adults increase their literacy all the while delving into Islam head-first. I am the 21-year-old girl who began wearing the khimar, traveled abroad for the first time and applied to medical school all in the same year. I am the 22-year-old girl who graduated with a 3.9 and accepted admission at Harvard Medical School with aspirations to attain her MPH.
I am the 22-year-old woman who made the very hard decision to shed the khimar and find alternative ways to assume her Muslim identity.
I am the 22-year-old girl who thrived upon entering medical school. I am the 22-year-old girl who started writing her first novel, A Rose Much Desired, during anatomy class, where she sawed off a human leg. I am the 22-year-old girl who aspired to publish at least one work while in medical school. I am the 23-year-old girl who wrote her first story to be published, insha'Allah, which was renamed "The Hybrid Dance." I am the 23-year-old girl who co-directed a cultural show with her classmates that celebrated the African Diaspora and was musical director for her second year show, realizing the dreams of performance that she never allowed herself while studying through college. I am the 24-year-old woman who studied for and conquered USMLE Step 1. I am the 24-year-old woman who decided not to miss Ramadan because of tough coursework and fasted successfully through her OB/GYN rotation and still got her desired grade. I am the 25-year-old woman who survived third year of medical school. I am the 25-year-old woman who fell in love with family medicine. I am the 25-year-old woman who realized her aspiration and matriculated into the school of public health, studying family and community health and maternal child health. I am the 26-year-old woman who was an intern for a project to find solutions for homelessness of transition-age youth in Massachusetts. I am the 26-year-old woman who is applying to residency and interviewing across the country as I type this.
I am the 26-year-old woman who has made mistakes in the course of life but always has her home in Islam, alhamdulillah.
None of this is the mark of a woman who has been ambling through life, aimlessly waiting for her husband to come along. No. I don't know why I though that.
I don't generally like to lay out my life in this way, but for my own purposes, I had to. I had to slap myself in the face and see, in fact, that I've made some very purposeful decisions in my life, academic and leisure and otherwise, to achieve my goals.
As the quote above says so nicely, we are created differently and we are born into different circumstances. Some of us recognize this and love the stage we are in and develop our capabilities to the fullest. I think I recognize that we are born into different circumstances and I have developed my capabilities. What has not happened is that I have not loved the stage I am in.
I was constantly trying to be something else, be somewhere else. Thus the movement of I am more myself now than I have ever been.
[TO BE CONTINUED]
I don't know how I missed this article at AltMuslimah...it's totally what I needed to read, always.
"[...] as a community, we are so focused on grooming our women to be wives and mothers that we lose sight of the fact that this is not even our number one role.
"Servitude to Allah (swt) is our number one role. We need to use what He has given us, the means that we have at the moment we have, to worship Him in the best of ways."
Preach it, Sister! See the full article here: Wifehood and Motherhood not only ways to paradise.
This paragraph was also encouraging:
"God, in His Wisdom, has created each one of us differently and in different circumstances. Some recognize this, love any stage they are in, and develop their abilities to the fullest. Let us, too, use the time and abilities God has given us to maximize our worship to Him and work for the betterment of society and humanity as a whole. If wifehood or motherhood comes in the process, then at least we were using all of our ability to worship Him before it came and can continue to use the training and stamina we gained before marriage to worship Him with excellence once it comes along."
Ameen, sis!
The article starts out with a Muslimah aimlessly making her way through college, really just buying time until she finds a husband and marries so she can have children. In my heart of hearts, I felt like this was me.
No one else sees me this way, and when I talk this way, it seems incongruous with who I actually am.
I am the 12-year-old girl who helped her mother copy articles for her Auntie Florence's dissertation in Nigeria and aspired someday to attend graduate school. I am the 12-year-old girl that, in researching careers, was choosing not only between medicine and architecture, but considered specifically the specialty of OB/GYN. I am the 13-year-old girl who took two math classes in middle school so she could be in the advanced science-math track. I am the 15-year-old girl who participated in a conference and initiative to try to address the achievement gap with black American students. I am the 18-year-old girl who graduated in the top 5% of her high school class after taking 7 AP tests, all 4s and 5s, and had gotten into all of the colleges she applied to with a full tuition scholarship to the one she would eventually attend. I am the 17-year-old girl who definitively embraced Islam and decided to become more practicing once in college.
I am the 18-year-old girl who entered college toying with the idea of becoming an MD/PhD, focusing on genetics. I am the 18-year-old girl who fasted Ramadan for the first time. I am the 19-year-old girl that started to develop her social consciousness and the idea of entering medicine as a service career, serving Allah (swt) through serving fellow human being. I am the 19-year-old girl who found a dream medical school and began to develop myself in college to be able to gain admission there. I am the 19-year-old girl who decided to double major in Cellular and Molecular biology and Spanish. I am the 20-year-old girl who juggled her double major, working in the lab, volunteering in the Children's hospital, tutoring students in Spanish and helping Latino children and adults increase their literacy all the while delving into Islam head-first. I am the 21-year-old girl who began wearing the khimar, traveled abroad for the first time and applied to medical school all in the same year. I am the 22-year-old girl who graduated with a 3.9 and accepted admission at Harvard Medical School with aspirations to attain her MPH.
I am the 22-year-old woman who made the very hard decision to shed the khimar and find alternative ways to assume her Muslim identity.
I am the 22-year-old girl who thrived upon entering medical school. I am the 22-year-old girl who started writing her first novel, A Rose Much Desired, during anatomy class, where she sawed off a human leg. I am the 22-year-old girl who aspired to publish at least one work while in medical school. I am the 23-year-old girl who wrote her first story to be published, insha'Allah, which was renamed "The Hybrid Dance." I am the 23-year-old girl who co-directed a cultural show with her classmates that celebrated the African Diaspora and was musical director for her second year show, realizing the dreams of performance that she never allowed herself while studying through college. I am the 24-year-old woman who studied for and conquered USMLE Step 1. I am the 24-year-old woman who decided not to miss Ramadan because of tough coursework and fasted successfully through her OB/GYN rotation and still got her desired grade. I am the 25-year-old woman who survived third year of medical school. I am the 25-year-old woman who fell in love with family medicine. I am the 25-year-old woman who realized her aspiration and matriculated into the school of public health, studying family and community health and maternal child health. I am the 26-year-old woman who was an intern for a project to find solutions for homelessness of transition-age youth in Massachusetts. I am the 26-year-old woman who is applying to residency and interviewing across the country as I type this.
I am the 26-year-old woman who has made mistakes in the course of life but always has her home in Islam, alhamdulillah.
None of this is the mark of a woman who has been ambling through life, aimlessly waiting for her husband to come along. No. I don't know why I though that.
I don't generally like to lay out my life in this way, but for my own purposes, I had to. I had to slap myself in the face and see, in fact, that I've made some very purposeful decisions in my life, academic and leisure and otherwise, to achieve my goals.
As the quote above says so nicely, we are created differently and we are born into different circumstances. Some of us recognize this and love the stage we are in and develop our capabilities to the fullest. I think I recognize that we are born into different circumstances and I have developed my capabilities. What has not happened is that I have not loved the stage I am in.
I was constantly trying to be something else, be somewhere else. Thus the movement of I am more myself now than I have ever been.
[TO BE CONTINUED]
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Affectionately My Ex / Worthiness
As salaam alaikum,
Alhamdulillah, I'm over the post-breakup funk. From here and into the future, B is affectionately my ex. I realized this in between standardized patients during CS today (alhamdulillah, that's over...now, to pass, insha'Allah...). I was in the bathroom, gazing at myself, from my hair, to the way my eyes look in my thick-framed glasses, to my smile, to my body, a little bit voluptuous today because of hormonal bloating (estrogen and progestin FTW), and I was just like...masha'Allah, look at this beautiful creation...about myself!
B really had issues to turn me down, issues which, compiled with everything else between us that we had to work on (the biggest being me being more spiritually evolved than he was, even if we both believed in One God), was just not going to work out for us. His concept of relationships and marriage was really immature, which led him to make the pronouncements about marriage as early as he did. I'm not dumb, so I expected as much and always took what he said with a grain of salt. This is why I'm dancing with myself in a hotel room in Chicago on a king size bed right now not lamenting the absence of a future husband.
Insha'Allah, it will happen soon. I know, because I've prayed for it always and I'll continue to pray for patience and a greater sense of self-worth until it happens. I have never felt more comfortable in my skin as I feel today. Remember MTQ? Yeah, it took me years to get over him, and I wasn't even in a relationship with him. B? Weeks.
What an interesting start to my 26th year. I've had to grow so much so fast in the last couple of months. Mainly, I feel sorry for B...he has no idea what he just passed up, but I'll still pray for him the best. The next woman will likely have less patience with him and be less accommodating...not necessarily, but likely.
But the paradigm shift continues. Though I certainly shifted paradigms to not feel like the worst Muslimah ever for being in a relationship with a non-Muslim (the jury's still out on that one, but God is Judge), I'm not running back to Muslim men, either. Insha'Allah, who is meant for me will come along and it will work. This may not be a man who calls himself Muslim now, and he may never call himself Muslim. I believe this with all of my heart and I know that it is not just those who call themselves Muslims that are believers, as certain as there are those who call themselves Muslims who are not believers.
There are those who do not call themselves Muslims who do good deeds, and there are those who call themselves Muslims whose bad deeds outweigh the good.
There are those who do not call themselves Muslims who could read the Qur'an and as the Qur'an itself says of those who follow other faiths, the book will bring tears to their eyes because they recognize the truth in it.
There are some who call themselves Muslims who are hypocrites.
I pray to Allah (swt) that I am not among the latter. Some may have the opinion that I am. That is fine. This is America and you are free to your opinions, but is that a good deed, oh fellow Muslim, to pass such a judgment when God is Judge?
I'm not saying I'm going to say no to a good Muslim man who desires me for marriage. Hah, he'll be crazy to want to, but okay, we'll go forward and see how things work out if I feel like it's feasible. But I'm also not going to hold my breath for one...
...nor am I really holding my breath for any God-fearing man to come into my life. I'm not holding my breath because I know that insha'Allah, it'll happen soon, and also...
It's just so exhilarating to find myself in a place where I'm not paralyzed by the fear of unworthiness before Allah (swt). That He created me makes me worthy enough, beautiful enough, excellent enough as is all of his creation. And that I believe in Him and turn to Him for guidance in every part of my life...which is what He wants us to do...how can I not be worthy?
Is the sun that rises in the east and sets in the west unworthy because it is a created thing and imperfect as it submits to the will of the Creator? Are the sparrows who wake, chirping in the morning, flying to food by day unworthy as they submit to the will of the Creator? Is the mosquito, that spreads disease that causes great injury, illness and death in several populations around the world unworthy as it submits to the will of the Creator?
So why should I be unworthy as a human being who was made human by my Creator who makes human mistakes as I submit to His will, realizing my nature and keeping it in check in favor of the straight way that He outlined for us?
I am God's precious creation, and like a precious daughter, I need to start treating myself with the love deserving of one who was made with the breath of the Creator.
I was practicing an Islam of Unworthiness. I henceforth practice an Islam of Worthiness.
...now, I'm tired from that test! Time to order some room service!
Alhamdulillah, I'm over the post-breakup funk. From here and into the future, B is affectionately my ex. I realized this in between standardized patients during CS today (alhamdulillah, that's over...now, to pass, insha'Allah...). I was in the bathroom, gazing at myself, from my hair, to the way my eyes look in my thick-framed glasses, to my smile, to my body, a little bit voluptuous today because of hormonal bloating (estrogen and progestin FTW), and I was just like...masha'Allah, look at this beautiful creation...about myself!
B really had issues to turn me down, issues which, compiled with everything else between us that we had to work on (the biggest being me being more spiritually evolved than he was, even if we both believed in One God), was just not going to work out for us. His concept of relationships and marriage was really immature, which led him to make the pronouncements about marriage as early as he did. I'm not dumb, so I expected as much and always took what he said with a grain of salt. This is why I'm dancing with myself in a hotel room in Chicago on a king size bed right now not lamenting the absence of a future husband.
Insha'Allah, it will happen soon. I know, because I've prayed for it always and I'll continue to pray for patience and a greater sense of self-worth until it happens. I have never felt more comfortable in my skin as I feel today. Remember MTQ? Yeah, it took me years to get over him, and I wasn't even in a relationship with him. B? Weeks.
What an interesting start to my 26th year. I've had to grow so much so fast in the last couple of months. Mainly, I feel sorry for B...he has no idea what he just passed up, but I'll still pray for him the best. The next woman will likely have less patience with him and be less accommodating...not necessarily, but likely.
But the paradigm shift continues. Though I certainly shifted paradigms to not feel like the worst Muslimah ever for being in a relationship with a non-Muslim (the jury's still out on that one, but God is Judge), I'm not running back to Muslim men, either. Insha'Allah, who is meant for me will come along and it will work. This may not be a man who calls himself Muslim now, and he may never call himself Muslim. I believe this with all of my heart and I know that it is not just those who call themselves Muslims that are believers, as certain as there are those who call themselves Muslims who are not believers.
There are those who do not call themselves Muslims who do good deeds, and there are those who call themselves Muslims whose bad deeds outweigh the good.
There are those who do not call themselves Muslims who could read the Qur'an and as the Qur'an itself says of those who follow other faiths, the book will bring tears to their eyes because they recognize the truth in it.
There are some who call themselves Muslims who are hypocrites.
I pray to Allah (swt) that I am not among the latter. Some may have the opinion that I am. That is fine. This is America and you are free to your opinions, but is that a good deed, oh fellow Muslim, to pass such a judgment when God is Judge?
I'm not saying I'm going to say no to a good Muslim man who desires me for marriage. Hah, he'll be crazy to want to, but okay, we'll go forward and see how things work out if I feel like it's feasible. But I'm also not going to hold my breath for one...
...nor am I really holding my breath for any God-fearing man to come into my life. I'm not holding my breath because I know that insha'Allah, it'll happen soon, and also...
It's just so exhilarating to find myself in a place where I'm not paralyzed by the fear of unworthiness before Allah (swt). That He created me makes me worthy enough, beautiful enough, excellent enough as is all of his creation. And that I believe in Him and turn to Him for guidance in every part of my life...which is what He wants us to do...how can I not be worthy?
Is the sun that rises in the east and sets in the west unworthy because it is a created thing and imperfect as it submits to the will of the Creator? Are the sparrows who wake, chirping in the morning, flying to food by day unworthy as they submit to the will of the Creator? Is the mosquito, that spreads disease that causes great injury, illness and death in several populations around the world unworthy as it submits to the will of the Creator?
So why should I be unworthy as a human being who was made human by my Creator who makes human mistakes as I submit to His will, realizing my nature and keeping it in check in favor of the straight way that He outlined for us?
I am God's precious creation, and like a precious daughter, I need to start treating myself with the love deserving of one who was made with the breath of the Creator.
I was practicing an Islam of Unworthiness. I henceforth practice an Islam of Worthiness.
...now, I'm tired from that test! Time to order some room service!
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
My Father
As salaam alaikum,
Today, insha'Allah I'm on my way to Kansas City for a Family Medicine conference. I'm praying for a safe and comfortable flight.
Speaking of dreams, I think I had a dream I was married last night. I don't remember any of it, therefore, I don't remember who I was married to or anything. I also had a dream about sprinklers running in Boston after the rain. I'm not sure where in Boston the sprinklers were running. The only dream I really remember was that I got my Step 2 CK score back, and I had failed, meaning I'd have to reschedule it and take it over. It took me a while upon waking to realize that it wasn't true...badness.
My mother suggested the other day that I should go to church with my father one of these Sundays, that "it would mean a lot to him." This made me angry...not because I absolutely refuse to attend church with my father, but that I couldn't have done this of my own volition without her getting that motherly look on her face and being an interloper in my relationship with my father.
When I argue with my father, she always gets nervous and wants to go somewhere else, even if it's just good-natured joking between us.
I didn't appreciate her telling me what to do that would "mean a lot" to my father. I don't feel like I owe it to him to go to church, and...ugh, she put the mother guilt trip on me with the "it'll mean a lot to him." It's like, can't I cook him something? That would mean a lot to him...if I learned to cook soup.
But her request did give me pause.
I spend so much time worrying about how my father wants me to embrace Christianity and how not to insult him because of my Islam, that maybe in the process our relationship is dissolving and I'm not being a good enough daughter. It's hard to tell.
My mother said that she thought it wasn't fair of me to say that my father doesn't respect my choice of religion and/or Islam. I didn't argue with her too much, because I think that this is a delusion she keeps up that helps their marriage make sense. There are degrees of respect. No, my father would never defile a Qur'an, and honestly, I'm not sure where he stands on Islam. I don't know if he thinks it's completely a false religion or if it's not the right way, I don't know.
Nor does he really know how I stand, how I stand on Christianity. I think we've both been avoiding that topic not to offend each other, but it's kind of essential for us to move forward.
In essence, I don't feel like I'm being unfair to him by saying that he doesn't respect my choice in Islam. I feel like that's entirely accurate. It's accurate in the way that he thinks he's going to come along, after I've made my decision after 23 years of not exposing me to Christianity and here I am, now 25, and he thinks if I listen to his pastor and read Romans and other things in the Bible, I'll be like, "Oh, Christianity..."
My mother herself says that he thinks I'm easily influenced, that the reason that I'm Muslim is because of my best friend, who is Muslim.
At which point I realize...my father doesn't really know me. My journey to practicing Islam was my own. Not even MQ had a hand in that. That was me, myself and Allah (swt).
At the same time...I have to make sure I'm not biting the hand that feeds me and thereafter shooting myself in the foot. Although I am frustrated with his efforts to convert me, he is my father, and I owe him love and respect, first and foremost. I need to remember that. My love and respect for my father is more important than any self-righteousness I may feel as a Muslim, which I shouldn't feel anyway. Like my father, I will answer to God at the end of this all, and kindness to my parents is one of the things, the easy things, that I'm supposed to do...so let me not forget that.
Wasalaam.
Today, insha'Allah I'm on my way to Kansas City for a Family Medicine conference. I'm praying for a safe and comfortable flight.
Speaking of dreams, I think I had a dream I was married last night. I don't remember any of it, therefore, I don't remember who I was married to or anything. I also had a dream about sprinklers running in Boston after the rain. I'm not sure where in Boston the sprinklers were running. The only dream I really remember was that I got my Step 2 CK score back, and I had failed, meaning I'd have to reschedule it and take it over. It took me a while upon waking to realize that it wasn't true...badness.
My mother suggested the other day that I should go to church with my father one of these Sundays, that "it would mean a lot to him." This made me angry...not because I absolutely refuse to attend church with my father, but that I couldn't have done this of my own volition without her getting that motherly look on her face and being an interloper in my relationship with my father.
When I argue with my father, she always gets nervous and wants to go somewhere else, even if it's just good-natured joking between us.
I didn't appreciate her telling me what to do that would "mean a lot" to my father. I don't feel like I owe it to him to go to church, and...ugh, she put the mother guilt trip on me with the "it'll mean a lot to him." It's like, can't I cook him something? That would mean a lot to him...if I learned to cook soup.
But her request did give me pause.
I spend so much time worrying about how my father wants me to embrace Christianity and how not to insult him because of my Islam, that maybe in the process our relationship is dissolving and I'm not being a good enough daughter. It's hard to tell.
My mother said that she thought it wasn't fair of me to say that my father doesn't respect my choice of religion and/or Islam. I didn't argue with her too much, because I think that this is a delusion she keeps up that helps their marriage make sense. There are degrees of respect. No, my father would never defile a Qur'an, and honestly, I'm not sure where he stands on Islam. I don't know if he thinks it's completely a false religion or if it's not the right way, I don't know.
Nor does he really know how I stand, how I stand on Christianity. I think we've both been avoiding that topic not to offend each other, but it's kind of essential for us to move forward.
In essence, I don't feel like I'm being unfair to him by saying that he doesn't respect my choice in Islam. I feel like that's entirely accurate. It's accurate in the way that he thinks he's going to come along, after I've made my decision after 23 years of not exposing me to Christianity and here I am, now 25, and he thinks if I listen to his pastor and read Romans and other things in the Bible, I'll be like, "Oh, Christianity..."
My mother herself says that he thinks I'm easily influenced, that the reason that I'm Muslim is because of my best friend, who is Muslim.
At which point I realize...my father doesn't really know me. My journey to practicing Islam was my own. Not even MQ had a hand in that. That was me, myself and Allah (swt).
At the same time...I have to make sure I'm not biting the hand that feeds me and thereafter shooting myself in the foot. Although I am frustrated with his efforts to convert me, he is my father, and I owe him love and respect, first and foremost. I need to remember that. My love and respect for my father is more important than any self-righteousness I may feel as a Muslim, which I shouldn't feel anyway. Like my father, I will answer to God at the end of this all, and kindness to my parents is one of the things, the easy things, that I'm supposed to do...so let me not forget that.
"And [God says:] ‘We have enjoined upon man goodness towards his parents: his mother bore him by bearing strain upon strain, and his utter dependence on her lasted two years: [hence, O man,] be grateful towards Me and towards thy parents, [and remember that] with Me is all journeys’ end. [Revere thy parents;] yet should they endeavour to make thee ascribe divinity, side by side with Me, to something which thy mind cannot accept [as divine], obey them not; but [even then] bear them company in this world’s life with kindness, and follow the path of those who turn towards Me. In the end, unto Me you all must return; and thereupon I shall make you [truly] understand all that you were doing [in life]." (Qur'an, 31:14-15)Insha'Allah...
Wasalaam.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Two Exclamation Points
As salaam alaikum,
!!
Two exclamation points. One, I'm done with Step 2 CK! Who knows how I did, but it's done, and I am completely free from now until August 25, when I do orientation for public health school. I cannot express to you how happy I am to get to be brainless, essentially, for the upcoming months...
The second exclamation point comes from part three of the article on Altmuslimah.com about the headscarf. This article has been complete awesomeness, by the way, and answered a question that I've always had but that I've been afraid to ask: when, in Islam, we say that things are fard (obligatory), what does that mean? It's obligatory or else...what? Is Heaven and Hell at play? And this scholar just answered that question for me:
Amazing! Like, you don't understand how simple it is to have a simple question and be afraid of asking it for fear of someone being like, astaghfirullah, the word that's never been pronounced in reference to something I've said or done but one that I've always desired to avoid. Of course it's not just the word...I'm just afraid of asking an inappropriate question, or what is judged to be an inappropriate question, and then not getting an answer and then feeling bad about the whole process.
He talks about how legal judgments should never be moral judgments in Islam, and it's just a concept so...foreign to me, because of how (in strict reference to khimar now) I was introduced to hijab/khimar...it was not an issue of legal anything. It was a direct moral judgment to be sure. Sisters who didn't cover, in the liberal viewpoint, were no different from ones who did, but it was clear that there was an undercurrent, a subdivision of sisters (and a not-so-subtle subdivision of brothers) who disagreed. I assumed that these obligations were moral obligations, until I barely have a schema for law in Islam...like, a law that is not a reflection of morality and spirituality? The only Islam I know is based on spirituality...
...haha, which reflects the fact that I am not, nor will I ever be, any one's scholar. Not at this rate. I'm too deep in medical school now, and yeah, various other million reasons why...
But...interesting.
Those are my two exclamation points for the day. Later, I'll have a more extensive entry about...something else, haha, I don't know what yet.
Wasalaam
!!
Two exclamation points. One, I'm done with Step 2 CK! Who knows how I did, but it's done, and I am completely free from now until August 25, when I do orientation for public health school. I cannot express to you how happy I am to get to be brainless, essentially, for the upcoming months...
The second exclamation point comes from part three of the article on Altmuslimah.com about the headscarf. This article has been complete awesomeness, by the way, and answered a question that I've always had but that I've been afraid to ask: when, in Islam, we say that things are fard (obligatory), what does that mean? It's obligatory or else...what? Is Heaven and Hell at play? And this scholar just answered that question for me:
In Islam we measure outward conformities in terms of whether or not you have fulfilled an obligation, whether or not you have fulfilled something that is recommended, or neutral, or if you have done something that is disliked or forbidden. Islamic law cannot go beyond that and this is one of its redeeming features - that the law is not making moral judgments on people. It is not saying who’s going to Heaven and who’s going to Hell. It is only saying that if you want to obey God, you should do such and such. And all of us ask the forgiveness of God because there is no one among us who fulfills all the obligations. - Dr. Umar Faruq Abd-Allah, Altmuslimah.com
Amazing! Like, you don't understand how simple it is to have a simple question and be afraid of asking it for fear of someone being like, astaghfirullah, the word that's never been pronounced in reference to something I've said or done but one that I've always desired to avoid. Of course it's not just the word...I'm just afraid of asking an inappropriate question, or what is judged to be an inappropriate question, and then not getting an answer and then feeling bad about the whole process.
He talks about how legal judgments should never be moral judgments in Islam, and it's just a concept so...foreign to me, because of how (in strict reference to khimar now) I was introduced to hijab/khimar...it was not an issue of legal anything. It was a direct moral judgment to be sure. Sisters who didn't cover, in the liberal viewpoint, were no different from ones who did, but it was clear that there was an undercurrent, a subdivision of sisters (and a not-so-subtle subdivision of brothers) who disagreed. I assumed that these obligations were moral obligations, until I barely have a schema for law in Islam...like, a law that is not a reflection of morality and spirituality? The only Islam I know is based on spirituality...
...haha, which reflects the fact that I am not, nor will I ever be, any one's scholar. Not at this rate. I'm too deep in medical school now, and yeah, various other million reasons why...
But...interesting.
Those are my two exclamation points for the day. Later, I'll have a more extensive entry about...something else, haha, I don't know what yet.
Wasalaam
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
When Life Throws You Crap, Make Lemonade!
As salaam alaikum,
I got a fair amount of studying done this morning, but as usual, during studying, I'm prone to get distracted. I was starving because I had run out of all of my fruit, which is basically what I snack on between breakfast and dinner with this new diet I'm on. I guess it's working. I'm also working out 1-2 hours six days a week. Cardio and weights, then Saturday is my samba class. All of this, and I was pretty much starving at noon while trying to study. Like seriously, I felt my body shutting down.
I eventually found some stale crackers in the pantry, but that was no good. It was time to go shopping!
There was no way I was going to walk 30 minutes to go the Shaw's. My former roommate when to great lengths to be cheap, but I needed to buy frozen stuff and I didn't care that it was only 73 degrees outside. Stuff was still going to melt, and I didn't want to walk 30 minutes from Boston into Cambridge to Somerville with a granny cart. So I dug up my Peapod account and my groceries will be delivered tomorrow evening. Awesome!
Alhamdulillah, the obsession circuit has calmed down and today has been a much more normal day. I'm also going to try something. For some reason, randomly, I was studying...pulm, I think, I suddenly remember this man remarking about how good his sisters' lassis were.
For those who don't know, lassi is a beverage made in India/Pakistan. My favorite is the mango lassi...I get it pretty much every time I get Indian food.
Then I thought about "A Man's Hands," the short, autobiographical piece that I wrote for the Muslim women's relationship anthology, and how it begins with me thinking about "Sadiq" while exchanging glances with "James" while sitting in an Indian restaurant, and how Sadiq existed for me as an apparition, and how I'd once imagined learning how to cook Indian food to appease his mother if we ever got together.
And I was like, pssh, I don't care about him! I like Indian food. It's like, give me foo foo and soup any day, and I'll chew on stock fish with the best of them, but Indian food is awesome.
So I didn't have to be ending up with this guy to learn how to cook Indian food. Let me continue being the cultural contradiction that I am and learn how to cook Indian food.
And if it comes down to it, there are several Indian import stores in Boston and Cambridge. I know this one lady stopped me in the street one day on my lunch break from clinic and offered to do henna for me. I can only imagine coming back from lunch break with henna, haha...my preceptor would have loved that. Not really. But they probably have spices.
So, I don't have all of my groceries yet, but I made mango lassi tonight. It's...awesomely easy to make. My next task...I'm going to make chicken tikka masala.
...hahaha!
I'll wait until I get home to make foo foo and soup. In the meantime, I have to see if I can find real yams from somewhere.
So what does this have anything to do with anything, especially the title? Taking crap and making lemonade?
That's exactly what I'm doing. My butt is huge right now. I'm working out like crazy and dieting to try to lose all the weight I've gained over the last two years, and then some. If I'm going to diet, I'm at least going to eat stuff that I like. And while occasionally my mind gets stuck in maladaptive circuits and I think of this man, maybe I can do something with this circuit and redirect it to something productive.
So I'm going to be cooking a lot more in the upcoming days...Igbo, Dominican and Indian food. Why Dominican food? Because it's been a long time. I'm going to make several beverages...lassi, avena and batidas.
And I bought some Guaraná for good measure.
And once I get done studying, I'll look into picking up another language. I know I'm 25 and I'm pushing it in terms of language learning, but I'm up for a new challenge.
This is, after all, my "year off." Samba class is cool, but there are tons more other random and fun things I can do with my life right now instead of letting my brain get the better of me.
So I'll try it...I'll let you know how it goes!
{Currently listening: Never Give You Up - Raphael Saadiq f. Stevie Wonder and CJ}
I got a fair amount of studying done this morning, but as usual, during studying, I'm prone to get distracted. I was starving because I had run out of all of my fruit, which is basically what I snack on between breakfast and dinner with this new diet I'm on. I guess it's working. I'm also working out 1-2 hours six days a week. Cardio and weights, then Saturday is my samba class. All of this, and I was pretty much starving at noon while trying to study. Like seriously, I felt my body shutting down.
I eventually found some stale crackers in the pantry, but that was no good. It was time to go shopping!
There was no way I was going to walk 30 minutes to go the Shaw's. My former roommate when to great lengths to be cheap, but I needed to buy frozen stuff and I didn't care that it was only 73 degrees outside. Stuff was still going to melt, and I didn't want to walk 30 minutes from Boston into Cambridge to Somerville with a granny cart. So I dug up my Peapod account and my groceries will be delivered tomorrow evening. Awesome!
Alhamdulillah, the obsession circuit has calmed down and today has been a much more normal day. I'm also going to try something. For some reason, randomly, I was studying...pulm, I think, I suddenly remember this man remarking about how good his sisters' lassis were.
For those who don't know, lassi is a beverage made in India/Pakistan. My favorite is the mango lassi...I get it pretty much every time I get Indian food.
Then I thought about "A Man's Hands," the short, autobiographical piece that I wrote for the Muslim women's relationship anthology, and how it begins with me thinking about "Sadiq" while exchanging glances with "James" while sitting in an Indian restaurant, and how Sadiq existed for me as an apparition, and how I'd once imagined learning how to cook Indian food to appease his mother if we ever got together.
And I was like, pssh, I don't care about him! I like Indian food. It's like, give me foo foo and soup any day, and I'll chew on stock fish with the best of them, but Indian food is awesome.
So I didn't have to be ending up with this guy to learn how to cook Indian food. Let me continue being the cultural contradiction that I am and learn how to cook Indian food.
And if it comes down to it, there are several Indian import stores in Boston and Cambridge. I know this one lady stopped me in the street one day on my lunch break from clinic and offered to do henna for me. I can only imagine coming back from lunch break with henna, haha...my preceptor would have loved that. Not really. But they probably have spices.
So, I don't have all of my groceries yet, but I made mango lassi tonight. It's...awesomely easy to make. My next task...I'm going to make chicken tikka masala.
...hahaha!
I'll wait until I get home to make foo foo and soup. In the meantime, I have to see if I can find real yams from somewhere.
So what does this have anything to do with anything, especially the title? Taking crap and making lemonade?
That's exactly what I'm doing. My butt is huge right now. I'm working out like crazy and dieting to try to lose all the weight I've gained over the last two years, and then some. If I'm going to diet, I'm at least going to eat stuff that I like. And while occasionally my mind gets stuck in maladaptive circuits and I think of this man, maybe I can do something with this circuit and redirect it to something productive.
So I'm going to be cooking a lot more in the upcoming days...Igbo, Dominican and Indian food. Why Dominican food? Because it's been a long time. I'm going to make several beverages...lassi, avena and batidas.
And I bought some Guaraná for good measure.
And once I get done studying, I'll look into picking up another language. I know I'm 25 and I'm pushing it in terms of language learning, but I'm up for a new challenge.
This is, after all, my "year off." Samba class is cool, but there are tons more other random and fun things I can do with my life right now instead of letting my brain get the better of me.
So I'll try it...I'll let you know how it goes!
{Currently listening: Never Give You Up - Raphael Saadiq f. Stevie Wonder and CJ}
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Reform Time?
As salaam alaikum,
I'm sitting here at the TMEC, trying to study cardio, realizing how long it's been since I've read an EKG. It's been about 10 months since I read an EKG well during my medicine rotation. You rarely get a chance to read EKGs in the other rotations. So that's the first few pages of the First Aid cardio section, and I'm recalling how good I used to be at reading EKGs and feeling like, at the same time, I may have to take an L for today for studying because my mind is in too many places right now...
...and then I feel my phone vibrate, ring. I think I know who it is, and it is her. It's my roommate. And I remind myself what I've been telling myself for a while...be nice to her.
But then when I answered, it felt more natural. I was like, "Hey! What's up?"
Have you ever felt something come from within you that you weren't expecting? Yeah, that's what happened then. I was sincerely nice, sincerely happy to hear from her, talk to her.
And I was like, whoa, I just spent the last couple of months genuinely annoyed by her...what changed?
This is the first month in 13 months that I have not been doing some sort of clinical rotation.
This scares me, kind of, a lot. Did I become an evil person after doing my rotations?
It's hard to tell when the change actually took place. If I were to guess, I'd suppose it happened during surgery...reason #2409 why I will absolutely not go into surgery. I always said that surgery made me forget Allah (swt) in a way I never have ever before in my life...for hours at a time in the OR, the attending was the one that I answered to, and all my thoughts and feelings would surround getting the next pimp answer correct, all of my energy was put into that, for the love of my grade...instead of me learning and experiencing the wonders of the human body and the human intellect, for the love of God. So that was one thing...
I think surgery also made me a meaner, less patient person, and that just caused my roommate to annoy me. I needed a break from the clinical sphere, and so I got that, and I cooled down, more and more...and now, with ample time to think things through, I'm becoming a nicer person to her, and I genuinely like her more, as she is.
And it startles me because...I'm not done with experiences like these. I'm going to go into training, and I'm not going to have the luxury of months off for break. I'll get maybe a week at a time, and maybe two tough rotations back to back, all of these things. I won't have the break I have now to become a more normal person. I don't want to become evil!
I've been reflecting for a few months now that I used to be a nicer person...I feel like I'm getting back to it, but seriously, I don't want the world of medicine to render me evil spirited, impatient, intolerant...
So okay, I have a year off...it's time to reform. I need to learn how to organize my space and time better so that I have a better space and time for devotion and worship, for self-reflection, no matter how pressed for time I am. I can't let my spirituality fall to the wayside like I have so many times throughout medical school. It's not cool.
I also need to be honest with myself, about where I am spiritually, religiously, and where I need help. I need help with most things. I have been needing for a long time someone to talk to, real time, about these issues...someone older and someone my age. I need a big sib in Islam, I think, someone preferably in medicine to help me navigate my life in Islam in residency, in practice. I've been going at things in life alone for a long time...I need a Muslim counselor that I can tell my life's story to, someone who will listen and help me organize everything and go forward from here in a productive way...
Because what bothered me the most about how my roommate annoyed me is that...I never used to be like this. One of my greatest attributes was that I was nice, "charitable" as I call it, even when people weren't the nicest or the most considerate back. I recognize that part of my change is self-preservation, but I liken my not being nice to my roommate as...I don't know, the sign of the complete degradation of my character and spirit, that I'd lost myself in a world of little redeeming value, and that if I don't reform soon, that's the world I'm going to live in...for time.
So, yes, it's time to reform. Alhamdulillah I realized it at this point before it got too far...
I'm sitting here at the TMEC, trying to study cardio, realizing how long it's been since I've read an EKG. It's been about 10 months since I read an EKG well during my medicine rotation. You rarely get a chance to read EKGs in the other rotations. So that's the first few pages of the First Aid cardio section, and I'm recalling how good I used to be at reading EKGs and feeling like, at the same time, I may have to take an L for today for studying because my mind is in too many places right now...
...and then I feel my phone vibrate, ring. I think I know who it is, and it is her. It's my roommate. And I remind myself what I've been telling myself for a while...be nice to her.
But then when I answered, it felt more natural. I was like, "Hey! What's up?"
Have you ever felt something come from within you that you weren't expecting? Yeah, that's what happened then. I was sincerely nice, sincerely happy to hear from her, talk to her.
And I was like, whoa, I just spent the last couple of months genuinely annoyed by her...what changed?
This is the first month in 13 months that I have not been doing some sort of clinical rotation.
This scares me, kind of, a lot. Did I become an evil person after doing my rotations?
It's hard to tell when the change actually took place. If I were to guess, I'd suppose it happened during surgery...reason #2409 why I will absolutely not go into surgery. I always said that surgery made me forget Allah (swt) in a way I never have ever before in my life...for hours at a time in the OR, the attending was the one that I answered to, and all my thoughts and feelings would surround getting the next pimp answer correct, all of my energy was put into that, for the love of my grade...instead of me learning and experiencing the wonders of the human body and the human intellect, for the love of God. So that was one thing...
I think surgery also made me a meaner, less patient person, and that just caused my roommate to annoy me. I needed a break from the clinical sphere, and so I got that, and I cooled down, more and more...and now, with ample time to think things through, I'm becoming a nicer person to her, and I genuinely like her more, as she is.
And it startles me because...I'm not done with experiences like these. I'm going to go into training, and I'm not going to have the luxury of months off for break. I'll get maybe a week at a time, and maybe two tough rotations back to back, all of these things. I won't have the break I have now to become a more normal person. I don't want to become evil!
I've been reflecting for a few months now that I used to be a nicer person...I feel like I'm getting back to it, but seriously, I don't want the world of medicine to render me evil spirited, impatient, intolerant...
So okay, I have a year off...it's time to reform. I need to learn how to organize my space and time better so that I have a better space and time for devotion and worship, for self-reflection, no matter how pressed for time I am. I can't let my spirituality fall to the wayside like I have so many times throughout medical school. It's not cool.
I also need to be honest with myself, about where I am spiritually, religiously, and where I need help. I need help with most things. I have been needing for a long time someone to talk to, real time, about these issues...someone older and someone my age. I need a big sib in Islam, I think, someone preferably in medicine to help me navigate my life in Islam in residency, in practice. I've been going at things in life alone for a long time...I need a Muslim counselor that I can tell my life's story to, someone who will listen and help me organize everything and go forward from here in a productive way...
Because what bothered me the most about how my roommate annoyed me is that...I never used to be like this. One of my greatest attributes was that I was nice, "charitable" as I call it, even when people weren't the nicest or the most considerate back. I recognize that part of my change is self-preservation, but I liken my not being nice to my roommate as...I don't know, the sign of the complete degradation of my character and spirit, that I'd lost myself in a world of little redeeming value, and that if I don't reform soon, that's the world I'm going to live in...for time.
So, yes, it's time to reform. Alhamdulillah I realized it at this point before it got too far...
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
USMLE Step 2 and Life Ahead
Salaam,
So, it begins today...studying for USMLE Step 2 CK (clinical knowledge). The task is actually less daunting than I imagined. I think after a whole year of taking standardized exams at the end of each rotation that lasted two hours, an exam on all I learned during third year in an 8-hour block is not that scary.
I'll just think of it as all of my shelf exams smashed together...and not even, because that exam would be 12 hours long.
Actually, I have a lot of other things to do today as well. My room is a mess, by virtue of my clothing. The laundry is in the hamper but I do not have enough room in my closet for my clothes. Now I sound like a total glutton, and I probably have too many clothes, anyway. But I recently took down my winter clothes to hang up my lighter spring clothes, and all of my sweaters right now are on the floor in front of my closet waiting to be put in the little wire receptacles on the floor of my closet that hold all of my out-of-season clothes. There are still a few things that need to be hung up. As a result of these receptacles, however, I don't have room for my shoes in my closet...and I dont' have that many shoes. I haven't bought a pair of athletic shoes in a couple of years and I'm wearing the same pair of sketchers I've had since undergrad because they haven't come out with a new style and I like these.
I'm becoming old...well, let's just say more mature and more sensible. There was certainly a time when I thought I needed to buy a new pair of tennis shoes [yes, I'm from the tradition/part of the country that says tennis shoes instead of sneakers] every year.
So there's laundry to be done, I'm going to dust in my room...probably in our living room, too, because for some reason, a fine yellow dust has covered everything from our windows being open. The bathroom needs a good once over, too. You know, I like when people help clean, but not when they do a half-a** job. My new roommate, bless her heart, sometimes cleans the bathroom...and honestly, besides the sink, the side of the tub, the mirror and the toilet seat, I don't know what she cleans.
[And if you're sitting there wondering what else there is in the bathroom to clean...you are one of those who also does not know how to clean.]
I'm actually excited to study for CK...excited to be done with it as well. I'm also a bit excited for public health school. I actually remembered that I had deadlines for admission coming up June 15 so I took a break from this entry to actually get some of that underway. I remembered that I had an official copy of my transcript sent to me by Michigan so I can just drop that off at the admissions office at the school of public health. I'm going to the office of the registrar and I'm going to drop off my transcript request form by hand.
Part of me still wants to have been doing a regular MD and be graduating next year...part of me is not sure what I'm going to do with two months of unscheduled time (actually, three months if you count this boards studying time...but for me, that's as good as scheduled time). I've just been in the go-go-go mode since I entered medical school. I take step 2 insha'Allah July 6. I don't take CS (clinical skills) until sometime next year...I think I'll try for late August during my week off of clinical responsibilities, and after I've been back in the hospital for a little bit and not horribly rusty at my physical exam skills.
This whole process...medical school, standardized exams, the strange way of grading third year, residency applications...it's very stressful. It's made me re-evaluate my faith in many ways. Like, I used to believe that everything ultimately happened for a reason, and even if it didn't fit into our personal plan, it fit into the plan Allah (swt) has for us.
For example, Step 1...I didn't do quite as well as I would have liked, but I did well, like, way good enough for the main specialty I was considering at the time, OB/GYN. I'm thinking, what if I had gotten an out of this world score, like 275 (the mean is 220). Would I have felt like going into something like family medicine was below me? Would I have set my sights on dermatology? Or, for example, what if I had gotten a few more high honors? Would I have considered then a more challenging specialty?
Do I still believe that everything happens for a reason? Yes, but I'm more apt to believe that things happen because they do. No one knows so by extension I can't know how Allah (swt) works. Just as I had previously said with pretty much every guy that I've liked in the past with whom it didn't work...it didn't work because it didn't work. It was like, rounded and angular cogs that didn't fit together in the machinery. If it would have worked, the cogs would have turned and things would have gone naturally from there. But it didn't work. And I've always been the cautious type, not pushing things, trying to let things happen. If either of us forced stuff, the cogs would destruct and the machine would break. Not good.
I consider the same thing about my road to my specialty choice. I think with my grades and my Step 1 score and all else I have going for me, I'll be more than okay for family medicine. I'm not choosing this because it's easy, but I am choosing the specialty because I think it'll be awesome for me to take care of moms and babies (ultimately what I want to focus on) and because I can see where I'll have space to have a life.
Third year has proven to me...I cannot handle tons of stress. Obstetrics and gynecology would afford me just that...tons of stress. I mean, residency itself is stressful enough without entering a field with such low satisfaction rates, a field in which a large chunk of it, benign gynecologic surgery, I'm not too crazy about.
And in terms of the year off...that happened because it happened, too. Third year was stressful, I didn't get as much time as I would have liked to read like I wanted to, so here's my chance. Here's my chance to collect my thoughts, to rest, to do all of the things that I wanted to do, like writing RMD [I'll talk more about that here later, for sure]...
Anyway, yes, things are happening for a reason. Like my patient who I nicknamed Mystical-Magical Patient had the Spirit that guided her, I believe I function on a similar paradigm. Between praying istikhara (which I needed to do more often during third year) and going with the flow, I'm making the best possible decisions for my career.
Anyway, now I'm all worked up. Back to the gym!
So, it begins today...studying for USMLE Step 2 CK (clinical knowledge). The task is actually less daunting than I imagined. I think after a whole year of taking standardized exams at the end of each rotation that lasted two hours, an exam on all I learned during third year in an 8-hour block is not that scary.
I'll just think of it as all of my shelf exams smashed together...and not even, because that exam would be 12 hours long.
Actually, I have a lot of other things to do today as well. My room is a mess, by virtue of my clothing. The laundry is in the hamper but I do not have enough room in my closet for my clothes. Now I sound like a total glutton, and I probably have too many clothes, anyway. But I recently took down my winter clothes to hang up my lighter spring clothes, and all of my sweaters right now are on the floor in front of my closet waiting to be put in the little wire receptacles on the floor of my closet that hold all of my out-of-season clothes. There are still a few things that need to be hung up. As a result of these receptacles, however, I don't have room for my shoes in my closet...and I dont' have that many shoes. I haven't bought a pair of athletic shoes in a couple of years and I'm wearing the same pair of sketchers I've had since undergrad because they haven't come out with a new style and I like these.
I'm becoming old...well, let's just say more mature and more sensible. There was certainly a time when I thought I needed to buy a new pair of tennis shoes [yes, I'm from the tradition/part of the country that says tennis shoes instead of sneakers] every year.
So there's laundry to be done, I'm going to dust in my room...probably in our living room, too, because for some reason, a fine yellow dust has covered everything from our windows being open. The bathroom needs a good once over, too. You know, I like when people help clean, but not when they do a half-a** job. My new roommate, bless her heart, sometimes cleans the bathroom...and honestly, besides the sink, the side of the tub, the mirror and the toilet seat, I don't know what she cleans.
[And if you're sitting there wondering what else there is in the bathroom to clean...you are one of those who also does not know how to clean.]
I'm actually excited to study for CK...excited to be done with it as well. I'm also a bit excited for public health school. I actually remembered that I had deadlines for admission coming up June 15 so I took a break from this entry to actually get some of that underway. I remembered that I had an official copy of my transcript sent to me by Michigan so I can just drop that off at the admissions office at the school of public health. I'm going to the office of the registrar and I'm going to drop off my transcript request form by hand.
Part of me still wants to have been doing a regular MD and be graduating next year...part of me is not sure what I'm going to do with two months of unscheduled time (actually, three months if you count this boards studying time...but for me, that's as good as scheduled time). I've just been in the go-go-go mode since I entered medical school. I take step 2 insha'Allah July 6. I don't take CS (clinical skills) until sometime next year...I think I'll try for late August during my week off of clinical responsibilities, and after I've been back in the hospital for a little bit and not horribly rusty at my physical exam skills.
This whole process...medical school, standardized exams, the strange way of grading third year, residency applications...it's very stressful. It's made me re-evaluate my faith in many ways. Like, I used to believe that everything ultimately happened for a reason, and even if it didn't fit into our personal plan, it fit into the plan Allah (swt) has for us.
For example, Step 1...I didn't do quite as well as I would have liked, but I did well, like, way good enough for the main specialty I was considering at the time, OB/GYN. I'm thinking, what if I had gotten an out of this world score, like 275 (the mean is 220). Would I have felt like going into something like family medicine was below me? Would I have set my sights on dermatology? Or, for example, what if I had gotten a few more high honors? Would I have considered then a more challenging specialty?
Do I still believe that everything happens for a reason? Yes, but I'm more apt to believe that things happen because they do. No one knows so by extension I can't know how Allah (swt) works. Just as I had previously said with pretty much every guy that I've liked in the past with whom it didn't work...it didn't work because it didn't work. It was like, rounded and angular cogs that didn't fit together in the machinery. If it would have worked, the cogs would have turned and things would have gone naturally from there. But it didn't work. And I've always been the cautious type, not pushing things, trying to let things happen. If either of us forced stuff, the cogs would destruct and the machine would break. Not good.
I consider the same thing about my road to my specialty choice. I think with my grades and my Step 1 score and all else I have going for me, I'll be more than okay for family medicine. I'm not choosing this because it's easy, but I am choosing the specialty because I think it'll be awesome for me to take care of moms and babies (ultimately what I want to focus on) and because I can see where I'll have space to have a life.
Third year has proven to me...I cannot handle tons of stress. Obstetrics and gynecology would afford me just that...tons of stress. I mean, residency itself is stressful enough without entering a field with such low satisfaction rates, a field in which a large chunk of it, benign gynecologic surgery, I'm not too crazy about.
And in terms of the year off...that happened because it happened, too. Third year was stressful, I didn't get as much time as I would have liked to read like I wanted to, so here's my chance. Here's my chance to collect my thoughts, to rest, to do all of the things that I wanted to do, like writing RMD [I'll talk more about that here later, for sure]...
Anyway, yes, things are happening for a reason. Like my patient who I nicknamed Mystical-Magical Patient had the Spirit that guided her, I believe I function on a similar paradigm. Between praying istikhara (which I needed to do more often during third year) and going with the flow, I'm making the best possible decisions for my career.
Anyway, now I'm all worked up. Back to the gym!
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