Tomorrow,

I finish my first clinical rotation.

I finish my first full year of graduate school.

I will have succeeded at something I thought I’d fail at.

I will have succeeded at something that I was told by some that I should quit.

I will have exceeded expectations. Including my own.

I know it seems silly. There are 95 other people in my program alone who are finishing a clinical (though it is their second, since I missed my first), it’s not really a noteworthy occasion in and of itself.

But when you finish your first year of graduate school having been on medical leave of absence twice, in addition to having a 5 pound lifting restriction for 3 months of the second semester and missing more than 15 days in the first semester, then, well, it at least feels noteworthy. Sometimes it feels parade worthy, if we’re being honest.

And not only did I finish, not only did I accomplish this goal, I did a really good job. I have received really great evaluations, positive feedback and really great constructive criticism. I’ve learned so much and I feel like I’ve grown in this profession. I feel reaffirmed in my career choice, I feel like I can actually do this. Like I want to actually do this.

And I feel so thankful for those who supported me, who wouldn’t let me quit all the times I tried. Who let me cry to them when it seemed hopeless, and cry some more when it seemed even more hopeless. Who told me they’d love me no mattered what happened.

This happened. Thank you for loving me through it.

33 days down, just 1 more to go.

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