Is that The Eye of The Tiger playing behind me?

If my life were a movie, this is where the Big Training Montage scene would go.

With only 6 more studying days until my big fight test, the studying has been in high gear for a while.

Actually, it is almost around the clock, literally. Between my usual dose of insomnia and Dylan's 2 middle-of-the-god-damned-night-feedings while Kathy is at work, I find myself watching review videos or reading by computer light while the little guy hungrily chows down a bottle. Afterwards, as I toss and turn, trying to fall asleep, I will inevitably think of something I wanted to look up or a practice question I got wrong. It will fester until I eventually give in to my compulsion and... out come the books.

I have been at this pace for a good while now and I seriously can't wait until this particular test is in my rearview mirror.

You always hear about the Herculean effort and multiple sacrifices that are needed to get through medical school. I wasn't naive. I understood what kind of work it was going to take. I knew what I was getting into. I entered into this journey eager, and with eyes wide open. Don't get me wrong, there have been a bunch of sacrifices and our road was not without its share of bumps, but frankly, I never felt like this whole thing was that bad . I'm not sure if it is because I have a supportive family around, or because I had a good bit of clinical experience before starting, or just that I am too damned old to get flustered about things. Whatever the reason, I had it all under control. Things, they are starting to change.

I am sure this is a very common feeling for most students around this time in their careers. So close to the end (or beginning, actually) and each next step is a bit harder to take. The feeling like it is NEVER going to end, and the mountains of tasks- still left to be done.

Yes, I am so ready to get this test over with and reclaim just a small part of my life.

So, if you are in the neighborhood of the Prometric Testing Center in Manhattan next week, and you spot a man with blood-shot eyes, sporting a "playoff beard", who smells of regurgitant breast milk and baby powder, mumbling to himself manicaly, "Yo, Adrian!", as he walks out of the building- just smile and nod and let me have my moment- I've earned it!