A Snippet into My Life: June 22

I don't think I intend for this blog to be solely about my medical journey. There are lots of blogs that do that. I don't even think my journey is that abnormal. I'm not a 40-year-old non-traditional student looking to switch careers. Sure, I've switched my major oh... 3 times? But that doesn't make me unique in the least.

I will say that I love to write, and I think that providing commentary on this interesting journey provides me some relief from the stresses of academics, studying for the MCAT, extracurriculars, and my complete lack of a social life.

I also think that it would be interesting to delve into the other areas of my life - the struggle with my weight, the ups and downs of friendships and relationships, and my views on society and culture today, as biased and jaded as they may be.

While I don't ever intend to identify myself, I know that I have often found comfort in reading the anonymous journeys of others, and some of my favourite blogs have been those that don't identify the writer. I like keeping the mystery. I like sharing myself without the vulnerability and risk that come with voicing an opinion and being afraid that others in my personal and professional life will judge me for what I write here.

I will provide some context by saying that I am currently residing in Calgary, Alberta, Canada. You may or may not know that my city is currently experiencing severe floods - a once in a lifetime event. Growing up here, I am no stranger to weird weather occurrences. I have worn a cute summer dress only to be hailed on. It really develops one's instinct and survival skills to find shelter with the aim of avoiding being pelted by golf-ball sized hail. I have also donned a parka only to find that once I leave the house, it is 20 degrees outside. But you keep that damn parka on because it could snow later that day (and oh, honey, you know it will snow later that day).

It seems that every June, we are pounded by rain and thunder. It becomes difficult to distinguish one dreary day from the next. In 2005, I remember the Bow and Elbow rivers quickly rising in level. Water was everywhere. It was a shocking event, and many were affected. I never thought, however, that I would see something similar in magnitude again, so to witness an event that is significantly worse comes as a shock.

I don't want to delve into details, but it is truly eery to walk into the grocery store to buy your usual supplies, only to find line-ups an hour long, full of people hoarding milk, bread, cans of unperishables, and gallons upon gallons of water. I was almost embarrassed to be holding my meagre basket of essentials. I thought I should be stocking up for an event of apocalyptic proportions.

Now here I am in my house, thankfully far away from the evacuation zones. I can't resist watching the news and refreshing city website to learn more about this event. I'm saddened but interested at the same time. Nothing exciting seems to happen here, and I often found myself hoping that something exciting would happen. You know, like running into Ryan Gosling on my cul-de-sac or something. Not this. Definitely not this. I truly regret wishing that my city would be less boring. I don't want excitement to happen to us in quite this way.

I feel like I should be studying for the MCAT, but I can't stop thinking about my displaced friends, and about the worst possible scenarios. I can't help but wonder what has happened to my favourite restaurants and cafes, all in areas deep underwater. I hope that the damage isn't that bad. I hope things can be restored soon enough. In terms of employment, part of my work is in an evacuated area. I am unsure of where to go on from here. I just hope that everyone and everything will be okay.

And I'm thankful to be warm and dry today (ignoring the fact that my roof is leaking, but that's minor in the grand scheme of things).