High Tide

If there's one thing that most physicians are guilty of, it is being secluded in their own little world of doctoring. Your mind becomes consumed with details of diseases and diagnosis. Even your sense of humor, the last remaining sanctum of your former self, becomes infiltrated by the legions of trivial medical factoids that for four years have relentlessly sieged upon that last castle of sanity. I am a victim of this. But what defenses have I against these perennial waves of niche facts and kitchen-corner details, these elements that wear away daily any formation of original identity? After all, I chose this. To stand steadfast against a welcomed onslaught, bare-chested, spread eagle and looking towards the heavens. This was of my own volition.

"Sacrifices must be made for promises of the future". It would be easy to submit to an ideal so poignant, but what is the future if I cannot be in it.