“I take it all back! I didn’t mean it! What was I thinking?” were my initial panicky reactions to the re-start of school in little more than a month. We have an online biochemistry course that we have to complete during the summer and fall quarters, and luckily I just found out that I passed out of it from my undergraduate course work, but still, reading the professor’s notes gave me quite a flashback. Her warning that we “should submit quizzes only once,” and that we have TA’s for the class shook me up enough to realize that I’m actually starting school again, not just entering happy-fun-exciting world out West.

I was kind of excited at first, seeing all the classes online, as well as an online greeting from the professor (even more reason to feel like I picked the right school). And although I’m dorkily excited to review cell membranes, protein folding, hemoglobin structure, and the glycolysis cycle, my romanticized version of med school as just some fun thing I do, where I just passive absorb (download) information easily without recall failure or any ounce of effort or hair-pulling, is quickly fading from view. I once rationalized my, erm, cushy, low-stress non-profit job this year as a nice break for my brain, but what if it’s been sitting idle for too long, and now I can’t get it to start again?

I know deep down that most of these fears are completely unfounded, but I think I do it merely for the psychological edge. If I’m not sure I can succeed, and I do, then I’ve proven myself to be able to accomplish another feat. Let’s just hope I don’t fail. If that happens, then I’m totally screwed.

And now, the more I think about this, I’m wondering, “Should I be telling people about my doubts publicly?” I’m supposed to be people’s doctor in a couple years. I’m not sure if I’d want to know that my internist was worried about memorizing, before she even started school. Yikes.