I am currently sick, and for the past couple of days I’ve been sick. My mothet told me I’m experiencing a “head cold,” and I admit I’ve probably heard the term used for colds that normally only involve congestion, sneezing and a sore throat, I feel like I’m experiencing a little more of a body cold than a head one. Anyway, I’m currently on my way to work, late as usual, and the sensation of being outside gives my body the impression that my head cold is getting worse.

This worsening feeling got me thinking about life as an undergrad. As an undergrad I would not have dared to go to class in the event I was sick. Of course with my luck every time I did get sick at school, or at least it is only my impression of my experience, I was always sick on a Friday- the worst day to get sick during a week. Now, I’m still not 100% but I’m currently on my way to work; to a hospital mind you.

I should have just stayed home and dealt with the consequences then, but this is real life. Life takes no breaks for the sick and the weak.

Rescuing my queen.

It happened.

It might happen tonight.

I’m heading home on the bus feeling a little bit on the low side. My day was productive but I believe I could have done more. Tomorrow I have a meeting with my supervisor with the intention of going over my consent script; I’ll be ready- or at least as ready as I want to be. ANYWAY, attitude check!

I screened 5 patients for one of the studies but I made sure to be thorough and concise. I’m learning more and more everyday and I’m working as quickly as I can to absorb all the information needed to do the job successfully. It is a good day. It is a good day.

How can I make this day feel more productive?
1) study without any distractions.
2) write a complete consent script and practice.

Today is a good day. Today is a good day.

I woke up today with the feeling of urgency. I’ve gone through most of my life passively and relied on these instances of ugency to drive me forward. Today, this feeling was triggered by an email my sister’s friend, Pamela, had sent me late last night. The email was inspired by a tweet I had sent Pamela regarding my new job’s benefits. Pamela sent me a copied summary of the education opportunities, specifically the MS and Phd program, and I must admit I am intrigued at the possibility.

I read this email early in the morning and lost sleep at this one thought: I spent most of my life trying to find meaning in my life but somehow the idea of purpose and intention had alluded me. What is the purpose of seeking meaning in life, if your actions have no intent or purpose?

My life has been composed of events that have been wasted because of my lack action to better myself. I need to action and get a firm grip on my life. Life is about a series of direction. What’s the purpose of life if all you’re going to do is move in a straight line?

I know, It’s been a week since my last entry but I’m back at my desk ready to write; or at least I think I’m ready to write.  Over the past week I’ve had moments of constructive reflection that motivated me to question my actions and reactions.  Not as constructive as I would have hoped if I wasn’t compelled to write and share my new found wisdom.  Any-who, I’m here now and that’s all that matters for the time being. 

As I was alluding to in my previous paragraph before I went off on a tangent as I usually do in my mind and in my actions, last week was an eventful week coated with both bitter and sweet flavors.  For starters I began working at Albert Einstein Medical School in the department of sick people. I was hired as a research coordinator for the department, so my job encompasses recruiting patients, whom are very sick, into research studies that will hopefully find new effective ways in treating very sick patients from developing certain conditions that weren’t initially present upon admission.  Secondly, and probably most importantly in an economic stand point, these research studies are aimed at lowering the cost of resources the hospital dealing with these very sick patients.  It’s all good and honest work in my opinion, but sometimes I can’t help but feel my new job comes across as a “been there done that” sort of thing. 

I mainly shadowed throughout the week to pick up direction and tips for accomplishing my duties effectively, but the grunt of my job’s insight comes from my supervisor- the director of research, Dr. Drew.  Drew graduated from one of the most prestigious medical programs in the world and practiced in the mecca of healthcare that is Boston, Massachusetts.  I knew her insight would provide valuable information to me regarding my duties, but what had eluded me throughout my professional and even academic career was her ability to bring light to my own weaknesses- I am instinctively lazy.  The best physicians value every piece of information and will go through great lengths to get that information.  Instinctively, I don’t do this.  I believe I am fully capable of going through these great lengths to get this information, but I need to work at it.  This is what Dr. Drew is indirectly showing me through her work and she believes I am fully capable of making the adjustment.  I will make this adjustment and I will perform at a level I believe I could not. 

As I’m writing this I understand clearly I need to tighten up my writing.  There are many wasted words in each of my sentences and there is no clear push in the forward direction.  As an exercise, I will write everyday a short paragraph describing my entire day in as much detail as I can provide.  One clear and concise paragraph a day describes my day.  Dr. Drew’s lesson must be applied to every aspect of my life.  I must be patient with myself.  I am a very sick young man who only wants to get better, and I am in the perfect position to be better.    

Today marks the 64th day since the last time I smoked marijuana and I couldn’t be more proud of myself.  Yesterday, being 4/20- the unofficial national pot smoking day, I texted most of my friends to see how they were enjoying the holiday but I didn’t receive any responses; probably because the act of responding was forgotten but whatever.  Anyway, although I have gone longer in the past without smoking a joint, today the difference is I don’t intend on smoking marijuana ever again.  

Writing that last sentence really took a lot of courage for me to do, and quite frankly, it scares the shit out of me.  A big piece of me says that I won’t be able to do it; my heart even sank when the thought ran through my mind.  The smallest piece in me says you can do it, if you really want to.  

One night during my third year in college I went out with my fraternity brothers to a party on campus.   My brothers and I were invited by a couple of sorority girls to hang out, drink, and smoke.  We spent maybe a half hour to an hour smoking and drinking before we decided to leave. On our way out, we stopped by a party that was going on next door.  Being that we were blasted out of our minds from smoking blunts within the half hour, we decided to leave the party and call it a day and hang out at home.  On my way out of the party I noticed the girl I spent most of my life chasing.  She was on the right side of the stair case on the way out of the house.  Because I was happy to see her, I had all of the courage in the world to hug her and talk to her.  Without hesitation, she pushed me away.  ”Nope! that smells like smoke. Nope! Go!” she said.  In disbelief and utter embarrassment I left the apartment with my tail in between my legs and hating myself for smoking.  I vowed to quit on my way out but it didn’t happen. Today, the memory still haunts as I still think about it 

I guess here is the main point of what I am trying to say: 64 days ago I quit.  I am listening to the smallest piece inside me that believes I can one hundred percent quit.  Fuck the zero.  Today, as I sit here at my computer contemplating the past and wishing to relive it, I understand that I can’t.  I’m happy where I am at now.  64 days and counting is for me and she gives me strength to keep going.  I want to rebuild my future on a solid foundation of positives one brick at a time.  

Forward.

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A postcard of advice from Stacy Szymaszek