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A Year Outside of the Classroom: Chapter 24- The Touch of Mortality

Some might consider this a morbid post, while others might understand its necessity.

Over the past year, I have worked my hardest to exemplify optimism in the face of adversity, how experiences shape us to build us into stronger humans that are capable of handling the next challenge or chapter in our life.

However, some days I am just as aware as everyone else of my own weaknesses. Today happened to be one of those days.

During Friday prayer, the imam discussed the concept of death during the khutba, or sermon, due to the passing of the relative of one of our community members.

"How will you be remembered?" He asked. "Will people say that you were a good person? Will people pray for you after your death? Will you be able to answer to Allah (SWT) about your deeds? How much of your time on Earth did you spend preparing yourself for that moment?"

Anytime death is mentioned, I feel like time stops. We are so busy racing and rushing from one goal, one job, one assignment to the next that we often forget the greater purpose of living life. According to Islam, this is merely a stepping stone to the next life, a time for us to prove to Allah whether or not we deserve to be rewarded for serving Him.

However, our biggest battle is our forgetfulness. In Arabic, the term for "human" is insan, which comes from the word al-nisyan meaning forgetfulness. We are quite literally being tested on how well we can fight our nature. What will it take for us to realize that everything we are doing should be with the intention to better ourselves and serve Allah through that. My journey into medicine is to serve His creation and to better understand His power and miracles through understanding the human body. Even though I believe this, I feel the constant need to renew my intention to feel like I am working for the bigger picture and not just for the small "next step" in this world.

Maybe some of you feel this way as well, but when I feel this aware of death, when it is brought up in some way that makes me question my entire existence and whether or not I am serving my purpose, I feel like Mortality is sitting next to me, brushing its shoulder to mine.

A few months ago while I was driving to work, I was held up in traffic surrounding an accident that occurred approximately 1 mile away from the hospital. By the time I was close enough to the site of the accident, my eyes quickly scanned the police cars and ambulances in the area, the bent electric pole, and a large hunk of silver metal wrapped around the pole. As my eyes adjusted, I realized that the broken metal was the vehicle. Mortality was sitting next to me in my car, making time slow down as I tried to drive a little faster to work, knowing that the driver- if alive- would most definitely be coming straight to us. I felt more aware of the steering wheel beneath my hands, the cell phone in my cup holder, the other vehicles around me, likely other people rushing to work or school. How easily could our mornings start out in a similar manner, wrapped around a pole and being wheeled into an ambulance?

How will you be remembered? 

As medical school approaches, anxiety is bringing my darkest thoughts to the forefront. I am thinking much more often about the moments that I have felt weak in my pursuit of medicine, situations that have made me feel unprepared to take on the emotional toll of being a provider for the rest of my life. Mostly, I have been thinking about my mentor/care provider's son, who took his own life 5 months ago (see Chapter 10), who made me look myself in the mirror and question my strength. His death placed Mortality in my room at night, next to the coffee machine in the morning, and in the car with me everyday on the way to work.

Today in particular I have felt this sense again, like I am waiting for the next shoe to drop. I feel desperate to know how people grow stronger so I may be so as well. I am anxious to know if time stops for everyone else when someone's life stops. Do they sit and wonder, "How will I be remembered? Will people pray for me?"

I want to know how people make time continue after that. How do we pick ourselves up again knowing that Mortality is not a stranger but a friend who visits suddenly? 

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