The beginning of the end: part 2

Long sleepless nights were fast approaching and I could sense the pressure building.

Those of us who stood out as symbols of craziness and pure fun now sat staring at the books which clearly made not much sense. As I had feared, time was not at hand. Nor was hope. The mind was in turmoil and the heart wept, burdened by the sheer volume of medicine and surgery.

The few cups of black coffee which is keeping me awake now, to study, only allows me to type out my worst fears and deepest pessimistic worries of what would happen if things didn't end well. How would I face those who had put their hopes on me? How would I feel at the end of it? What the hell am I gonna do?

On the contrary, here I am,blessed. Blessed with the beauty of life. Blessed with the ability to fully function.To merely posses the resources that help me get what I need. To think, reason and act. Here I am blessed with a bunch of people who are concerned about my thoughts, dreams and desires.

Not everyone gets that. Atleast not everyone in a hospital is that lucky. And the fact that I would soon be the person comforting and treating those who aren't fully privileged as I am, is the only driving force for me to bury that pessimism and move on.