Will you let me wax philosophic for a moment?
I turned 45 years old yesterday.
45...
I'm on the downhill slide toward 50, nearly a half a century on this little spinning globe.
I know that age is merely a number, a count of the times I've shared the earth's racing around the sun. Every day, though, I am reminded of my lost youth and the reality of being entrenched in the rigors of "middle age". At school I am surrounded by the "next generation", a hodgepodge of young people who are bright and tight and brimming with vigor. At the end of a lecture they bound out of their chairs laughing and talking while I slowly rise, knees and hips screaming in protest against the punishment of sitting for so long. My youthful colleagues go over a lesson a couple of times and move on. I read, study, reread, re-study, and pray that my aging memory will somehow retain what I need. My colleagues are looking at a good 40+ years of practice as doctors after graduation. I will be 50 by the time I finish residency.
Don't misunderstand me: I'm not jealous. I had my time as a youth and tried my best to negotiate my 20's without making too many mistakes. By God's grace, I came through okay. I would be lying, though, if I didn't say that I wish I had started this journey becoming a physician a couple of decades ago.
What is the point? Namely thus - I've learned that one is never too old to live one's dream. I've also learned, though, that living one's dream later in life brings its own set of challenges. I need to work harder than most of my colleagues merely to keep up with them. I don't have the physical stamina I once had. Is it worth it? You bet! Does it come at a cost? Absolutely. "Better late than never" is a wonderful adage but needs an addendum: "and be sure to move your joints!"
Thanks for letting me rant. I love this journey. The sacrifices are worth it - without question.
Back to the books.
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