The Dreaded Day

During the beginning of the school year, our Practice of Medicine block directors informed us that we would have an unforgettable day, one which will go down in our personal histories: the day we perform rectal/genital/gyno/breast exams. When I heard that three months ago, it didn't really freak me out because it seemed like such a long ways away. After all, I was a fresh-faced medical student barely able to keep my head above the water with all of the lectures being thrown at us everyday (yes, the legendary "fire-hydrant" experience). Three months? Felt more like three years away.

Fast forward to the day before the aforementioned exams. One thing I've learned in medical school is that the concept of time is really strange; the individual days go by so slowly, yet collectively they fly by. At this point, most of my classmates and I were in such heightened states of anxiety that I think we would have preferred a 4 hour cardiac mechanics exam to that other one. Personally, I tried to relieve my anxiety by making immature jokes, giving myself pep-talks, and pretending like it was just going to be another day in the life.

However, no amount of positive thinking could calm my nerves down. I am in no way, shape or form comfortable with nudity or excessive touching. I grew up in a socially conservative household, due to my cultural and religious background, and to this day I still don't know the actual words for "penis" and "vagina" in my language. I couldn't even bring myself to say the word "sex" until I was well into my high school years, and I would change into my P.E. uniform in the bathroom instead of by the lockers like every other normal person.

So what's a girl like me to do in such a situation?

I summoned up every ounce of courage and professionalism I had, and forced myself to be as scientific-minded as possible. That got me through the male genital and rectal demonstration that our 4th year group leader gave to my small group. However, it was so unnerving to introduce ourselves to the standardized patient and then to observe his parts as if it was such a normal thing we were doing. After viewing the demonstration, I was proud of myself for being contained and keen on learning how it was done. I thought, "Hey, maybe I can do this without freaking out!"

Once it was my turn to be in the room and to put the gloves on, the situation completely changed. The last time I had a near nervous breakdown was when we were cutting into our cadaver for the first time, and here I was with an even greater impending nervous breakdown. To make matters worse, I was in the room with three other men - the patient himself, our 4th year leader, and my classmate who was supposed to be learning from me. How did I handle all of this? In the words of that classmate: "You were freaking out."

My leg was shaking uncontrollably, my face was flush, my voice was tense and my hands were fumbling. I had to inspect, touch, palpate, squeeze, and don't even get me started on the inguinal canal (which I had to attempt three times before I got all the way up there!). THEN I had to ask him to turn around for the rectal part of the exam! At this point, I knew I was losing it and I just wanted it to be over with. I was praying for a quick end to my complete and utter mortification. To my surprise, the rectal exam turned out to be really easy and I even got a compliment ("You were gentle"). I did have to shove my finger all the way in and then some (short finger problems) but it was mercifully quick. When all was said and done, and the gloves were discarded, I pretty much ran out of the room and had to take many, many deep breaths. And then I laughed like a banshee, because I couldn't believe that I just went through that.

Next up was the female standardized patient, which was it's own kind of freaky. I had to do a breast exam, while making small talk with the patient, which wasn't so bad. Then I had to go down under. So, the female genitals are much more complex than the males. I had to get her feet in the stirrups, inspect that thing up close and personal, then palpate the Bartholin glands by putting my fingers in the vagina at 5 and 7 o'clock and squeezing. Before all of this, I thought, "I have a vagina, so this won't be too bad!" Well, after inspecting and palpating, I realized that yes, this can be bad. It was such a weird and uncomfortable feeling! Then I had to insert the speculum in order to inspect the cervix. Have you actually seen a speculum go inside a vagina, all the way? I was terrified that I was going to pinch the clitoris, or pinch the cervix, or tear something inside! Thankfully, it went smoothly (pun intended) and I had a clear view of the cervix. After pulling it out, I had to do a bimanual palpation for the uterus and ovaries. Let's just say that my short fingers didn't make anything easier. Not to mention that I really had no idea what I was doing, so my right index and middle fingers were inside the vagina for much longer than they should have been. Once again, I couldn't have been any more relieved when I heard those magically words "You're done! Great job!"

After the end of the 5 hours of hell, I went out to the local bar with the rest of my classmates and pretended like none of that had happened (and no, not through drinking the mortification away!) I ordered fish and chips, had great conversations, lots of laughs and then called my mom once I got home. I did not spare here a single detail!

At least now I know that I can handle the gross and the icky parts of medicine, but it sure is going to take a lot more genital and gynecological exams before I actually feel comfortable with it.

The Scariest Part of Medical School

At first, I thought the scariest part of medical school would be relinquishing "a life," thanks to insanely excessive amounts of studying that take over every aspect of one's existence.

After adjusting to this inhumane lifestyle, I've come to realize it's not scary at all... it's just become a fact of life. I am used to studying for hours almost every day. What I've come to realize is that the scariest part is having to actually KNOW this information forever! It's not like in undergrad, when it was good enough to know the information to get you through an exam - then your brain is free to empty it all out. With medical school, your brain needs to really soak in most of the information, even the little mundane, boring details, because it's the stuff that will help you to help others. Your brain needs to retain that information beyond the next exam or block final because it will 1) show up on boards in a couple years and 2) because that's what will help to make you a good doctor.

It's extremely scary when I think about how hard it is to study everything and to really really know it so that I can treat patients on my own one day. I sometimes think it's simply not possible to know most of this stuff.

Happiness in Medical School?

Happiness and medical school - a juxtaposition of two very contradictory terms. It's been six weeks into medical school and the word "happiness" has hardly popped up. The medical school daily grind is so intense and consuming that you start to lose sight of the concept of happiness. It's not intentional, and it's not as if you are unhappy. It's just that happiness really doesn't have much relevance to your life anymore.

I have at least been trying to keep a balanced existence, but as the lectures pile up and the content becomes more difficult to get through, the balance starts to slip... gradually and subtly. Whereas weeks ago I was meeting up with friends, exercising, eating balanced meals and calling my friends and family, I now find myself rushing through boxed dinners, sending quick "Hi, love you, I'm busy" texts to my mom and completely forgetting that a thing called exercise even exists. Except for when I happen to look at myself in the mirror... then I remember "exercise" and the complete lack of its existence in my life with startling clarity.

II certainly don't want to live the rest of my medical school life in this state of "I'm too busy to remember I have a life!" I have to remind myself of how blessed I am to even be here, and that I have a choice with how I want to live. No one forced me to be here - no one is forcing me to study all the time. It really is all about finding the right balance with strategic time management... and I really am trying to get there. I want to enjoy medical school while still enjoying my life at the same time.

I also want to be HAPPY. I want to see each day as a beautiful new day, with meaningful moments and interactions. I want to be conscious of each day and mindful of its possibilities. This article I stumbled upon was a great reminder for me:

The Habits of Supremely Happy People

Yes, I'm deciding to be a HAPPY medical student! 

Day 13, Delhi: Dargahs, Old Delhi, Indira Gandhi Museum

Our second-to-last day in India!

We started our day at the hole-in-wall Roshan Chiragh-e-Delhi dargah, which is the tomb of the Sufi saint Nasiruddin Chiragh Dehlavi. My paternal grandfather was an admirer of this saint, so it was very meaningful for my mother to come here. There was no way we would have found this place if our driver didn't drop us off in the alleyway leading to it, and if a kind stranger didn't help us navigate the maze of alleys.

"The Illuminated Lamp of Delhi"

The peaceful courtyard

Offerings to the saint

We then had our driver take us to the Indira Gandhi Museum, which we pleasantly discovered does not charge an entrance fee. I really enjoyed the memorial museum - it was the actual home of Mrs. Gandhi and one gets a privileged peek into a more personal aspect of her life. There are also beautiful arrangements of photographs and newspaper articles, as well as many personal items that held much meaning to the famous leader. I felt that this museum did justice in honoring her memory and what she stood for her; this much can be gleaned even from someone who hardly knew anything about her, other than being an Indian Prime Minister. We took our time observing the artifacts and walking through the building, and it was a very pleasant way to spend our morning!

Arrangements such as this adorn the walls

Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high;
Where knowledge is free;
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments by narrow
domestic walls;
Where words come out from the depth of the truth;
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection;
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way into the dreary
desert sand of dead habit;
Where the mind is led forward by thee into ever-widening thought and action
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.

These crystal "river" symbolizes the last steps Gandhi took before she was murdered by her bodyguard.

Old Delhi was next on the list, and I was excited to visit the Jama Masjid, which is the biggest mosque in all of India. Our driver dropped us off near the masjid, and we trekked through a congested but lively bazaar to make it in. Unfortunately we just missed Friday prayer; I was really looking forward to praying in the mosque, but it wasn't meant to be. Since shoes aren't allowed inside, just like with any mosque or dargah, we left them outside with a man who was overseeing them. I should say, for anyone planning a visit to the mosque, beware of the hawks and tourist traps! One man saw my camera and told me that there is a 350 INR charge for taking pictures inside of the mosque - that sounded preposterous to me! I tucked the camera back inside my purse, only to promptly take it out as soon as I got it. Also, on our way out we gave the shoe-keeper a typical tip; however, he wasn't very pleased with this amount and demanded we give more. I believe he asked for 100 INR for each pair of shoes, which is about $2. Honestly, give it if you want but it is way more than what the going rate is! I ended up giving him 200 INR instead of the 300 that he wanted. Does that sound stingy? Well, after 2 weeks in India you start to realize how much things are actually worth and when you are being ripped off. I was incensed since I knew he was running a scam, and I was sick of being viewed as a bank since I was American (for the record, I am most definitely not a rich American with so much money to spend! I saved up a long time for this trip!)

Do you see the madness?!

The amazing Jama Masjid

Friday prayer mats being rolled up

I don't like taking candids but... what are they wearing??!!

Feeding the birds

The view of the Red Fort from the masjid

Even though Laal Qila (the Red Fort) was just a relatively short walk away, I couldn't summon up the energy to do it - it was midday and the sun was start to scorch! On top of that, I did not eat much during the day, out of my fear of having to suddenly go to the bathroom where there are no bathrooms to be found (you will never understand this fear until you are in that situation!) Therefore, the fort had to be sacrificed, as well as a couple of other major attractions that I didn't care to see anymore out of sheer exhaustion, such as the Lotus Temple and Akshardam Temple. I was honestly surprised at how low my energy level got, but we had a couple more dargahs that my mom and aunt were anxious to visit and I realized that I was not the energizer bunny anymore.

Driving through Old Delhi

Navigating through the bazaars

I bought some dried fruit.. and it was delicious!

We found our driver after walking through the markets back to the car and headed to the dargah of Baba Matka Pir, fondly known as Koza Baba to Afghans. In both Urdu and Farsi, the Sufi saint is nicknamed after earthen pots. Legend has it that after hearing of the saint's healing powers, a sultan decided to test him by sending him a platter of iron balls and mud. The saint, after praying, took off the cover of the platter and the aforementioned items had turned into edible items including jaggery; he mixed them with water, producing sweet milk in the earth pot.

I cannot emphasize enough how much in love I fell with this place. From the first second of leaving the car and taking a look around, my heart felt peace, contentment and joy. There is an irrepressible serenity and calm that accompanies the dargah; I felt a mystical and awe-inspiring aura just envelop me whole and take me away. I also felt overwhelmed by the peaceful presence of nature. I prayed my heart out at the tomb, and the caretaker of the dargah also did a prayer for me and gave me a large piece of jaggery as a token.

Earthen pots are everywhere!

Steps leading up to the tomb

To me, this is beautiful

Tomb entrance; a devotee is praying

Offerings to the saint

I made an ardent, secret wish... I can still tell which string is mine

When a devotee's wish is granted, they come back and offer an earthen pot.

We eventually had to leave this wonderful sanctuary and, along with our driver, we made a mad jaywalking/running dash across an extremely busy road to get to the last stop of the day: the most humble dargah, Bagh-e-Bedil. Bedil Saab, whose name translates to "the broken-hearted," was a great and renowned Sufi poet, especially in Afghanistan. I was stunned at the tomb's simplicity; there weren't any caretakers, any devotees, any vendors selling flowers and incense. It was bare and ascetic, yet, of all the dargahs, it felt most true to the principles of Sufism.

The garden of Bedil Saab

A special place for my mom; her father was an ardent devotee

Beautiful in its simplicity

On the way back to the car, we noticed a bridge - and were mercifully saved another jaywalking adventure!

Uh oh!

View from the bridge

Day 12, Ajmer: Adhai Dinka Jhonpra, Ana Sagar Lake, Dargah Sharif

We did a little bit of sightseeing today. There really wasn't a lot to see, but the places we did go to were worth visiting. Our first stop was Adhai Dinka Jhonpra, an ancient mosque that was originally a Hindu temple. Dating back to around 1150, the architecture and splendor of the ruins are quite a sight, even if it is slightly dampened by the graffiti/vandalism that also exists. We walked through the busy, busy alleys of the marketplace to get here, but it is only a short walk from the main dargah entrance.

Heading to the site

Adhai Din ka Jhonpra

Still a functioning mosque

Details

I felt like I was inside of village...

Afterwards, we hailed down an autorickshaw and headed to Ana Sagar lake, which felt like a breath of fresh air! The dargah is surrounded by a crowded, dusty and bustling marketplace, and there are people and noise everyone; the lake provided a significant contrast, as I took in the greenery and tranquility. It's a nice getaway spot for anyone in Ajmer.

Green = sanctuary

My soul feels rejuvenated

I enjoyed this moment

Music Man

I loved the random yet impressive bits of architecture scattered throughout

We did a little bit of shopping (because you HAVE to shop with all these markets!) and I bought some gifts for family and friends back home. After a brief respite in the guesthouse, we made another trip to the dargah to pay our respects to the saint, to pray, and to listen to qawwali.

Walking back from Ana Sagar Lake

Inside the dargah, vendors sell flowers and sweets as offerings

A peek inside

AMAZING qawwali music!

Right outside of the tomb

Another Facebook Post From India

This was the second facebook post I wrote while in India


1. I've been getting ripped off everyday since I don't have the heart or energy for bargaining 
2. Indian guys love asking to take pictures with me 
3. Beggar kids will mob your vehicle for money, school kids will mob it for candy 
4. I think I should have aimed for veterinary school instead since it breaks my heart every time I see neglected animals scavenging the garbage to find food 
5. Which makes me wonder what kind of a human being I am since I have more sympathy for animals than people sometimes 
6. I thought I was being kind by leaving a pool of water for a tired dog 
7. It turns out I was being a nuisance since he got up and moved elsewhere 
8. I'm understanding the American mentality of not wanting to learn a second language since everyone around the world really does speak English 
9. I will probably start jay-walking back home since I have learned to fearlessly cross Indian streets 10. Bollywood has fed me lies all of my life 
11. After seeing slums, hustling and human degradation everyday, I've been doing a lot of soul searching 
12. I now understand why Bollywood is all about the good life - I'm dying to see a legit mansion.

Day 11, Ajmer: Dargah Sharif

Once again we headed back to the Ajmer Shatabdi, this time to head to the city of Ajmer for a pilgrimage. The dargah of the Sufi saint Moinuddin Chisti, aka "Gharib Nawaz" (Benefactor of the Poor), is there and it is a site where Hindus and Christians visit in addition to Muslims.

Posing with a cooli (a rail porter)

The Rajasthani desert on the way to Ajmer

Heading to the guesthouse

My aunt regularly donates to the dargah, and a couple of the dargah caretakers arranged transportation and a room for us in their guesthouse. It was all nice until we finally met the father/son duo in an office in the dargah. The first question they had for us was concerning how much we were going to donate. My mother and I were so put off by this question! We were of course going to donate, but we naively assumed that there would be time for that later, after paying our respects to the saint. After offering $50 or so (for the time being), the father told us that it wasn't enough! Honestly, it's so sad to see what a business religion has become in the world today. Anyway, we did get a good tour of the place and donated here and there throughout the day. The dargah complex is massive!

Buland Darwaza

Cameras are not allowed inside... so I whipped out my phone instead

Getting ready for prayer

The "choti deg," (small pot) used to cook meals to feed the poor

A peek inside the "bara deg," (big pot) where donations in cash and food are thrown in

Getting ready for evening prayer

The shrine lit up at night