Fenestrated sinusoidal capillaries

It's impossible to do anything pre-blocks.  Just impossible.  You can't think about anything except that day's lecture.  I used to dream in Spanish, now I dream in histology.  Are those capillaries?  Are they fenestrated?  Or sinusoidal?  Is that adrenal cortex or medulla?  WHICH HORMONES DOES THE CORTEX MAKE AGAIN???  Simple things like sleep and food get overlooked.  I'm at the point where taking the time to make a sandwich takes too much time.  And, me, I'm not even one of the crazy ones.  I sleep, or at least try to- there are people here who get a couple of hours a night and then dose up on caffeine.  Like, hello?  People?  WE WANT TO BE DOCTORS, we should know better.  We do know better.   At this point though, I get it.  I really do, without Coca-Cola I'd probably be slapping some people, or at least verbally slapping them.  But, between trying to get enough sleep and keeping my caffeine to tea and one coke a day, I am keeping it together.

It just hit me the other day, how badly I want this- that I am pretty much living my dream right now.  Have you ever realized that?  That you are doing exactly what you've always wanted to do?  That even though this is nothing like you could have possibly imagined, it's exactly right.  In my mind there were fewer rats and all of my professors spoke fluent English.  It's a terrifying thought.  Like, bone-chillingly terrifying.  I made it here.  Now I just need to succeed.  This is all on me.   That's how this whole life thing works anyway isn't it?  You have to realize what you want and go after it like a shark smelling blood in the water.  That's me.  I'm that shark.  And, dammit, I SMELL BLOOD. 

I keep getting these giant cosmic messages about what is and isn't important.  I think the universe is trying to make sure that I don't go crazy here and wants me to count my blessings.  Well, Universe?  I'm counting.  And I am so amazingly grateful.  For everyone back home who, even though they're thousands of miles away, still manage to make me feel surrounded by love and supported.  For the people that I've met here, for how generous and kind in spirit they are.  (Seriously, no matter what crap I may talk about Canadians, they are so freaking helpful).  For my health, for opportunities, for so many things I could go on and on and on until I was blue in the face.  It makes everything a little easier once you realize that so much of the bullshit and crap doesn't matter.  That what really matters is doing your best, sticking to your own standards/rules, and not giving or taking any crap from anyone. 

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