A Letter from Paris

There’s nothing like a trip to Paris to give one a pounding headache. Not a headache induced by stress, but rather by a whirlwind of sightseeing and socializing. I’m sitting here, at the Alhambra Hotel, on a small bed with my Macbook on my lap and a bottle of Tylenol at my bedside.

It has been an intense but enjoyable trip, beginning last Friday night with a 7 hour plane ride to Paris. It was followed by a journey into the town of St. Hilaire in the province of Normandy. My mother, sister, cousin and I rented out a small villa surrounded by vast stretches of farmland. Over the course of the week, we explored ancient castles and towns. We also visited the beaches captured by the Allies on “D-Day”, a turning point in World War II. From our clifftop vantage point, we gazed down at the beaches stretching out on both sides of us. It was calm and peaceful, making it difficult to imagine 150,000 troops storming through blistering enemy fire. 

After our stay in the countryside, we headed to Paris and tried our best to absorb this massive, intricate city in the span of a day.

Despite the frenetic pace of the trip so far, I feel calm and content. These feelings are likely to vanish soon as I head into MF5, the final foundation in our curriculum. MF5 is notorious for having a grueling pace, packing in the musculoskeletal system, neuroscience, and psychiatry into twelve weeks. McMaster is famous for adopting an accelerated curriculum, but I can’t help but wonder whether three months is enough to adequately study these complicated topics.

I was given a colourful reminder of med school when I logged into Medportal, the interface we use to access our course information. The system has been totally redesigned, with this graphic at the top: 

Don't be fooled by the monsters' happy expressions; within a couple of weeks they'll be devouring us all. 

My mission now is to get back into "study mode". I'll wake up, go to lectures, and study. On the weekends, I will study. At night, I'll probably dream about studying.

Yet there will be those pockets of time, perhaps few and far between, when I'll indulge myself in some of the wonderful things about life: Hanging out with friends, going clubbing, blasting baddies on my X-BOX and taking my dog for a walk ... a dog who, in a short seven months, has blossomed from a tiny pup into a rambunctious adolescent. Unfortunately she has been struggling in her training. Both of us, Maya and I, have much learning to do.