Putting down the four-way biro.

I had one of 'those' moments yesterday, I'd call it an 'epiphany' if I felt like being melodramatic. I don't. You see, you're meeting me for the first time in what I call a transition state. I'm young, still pretty naive and I have no idea what the future holds but, as of yesterday, I've decided that that's okay. In fact, it's more than okay - it's marvellous. I don't really see this as a 'blog' but instead an insight into my thoughts, feelings, ambitions, concerns and, sometimes, just into who or what is making me laugh/cry/seethe with anger at random moments in my life. Pardon me if it's a little disjointed at times, I'll work on it. I promise. Part of me is wondering why I don't just write a diary (at least my mistakes wouldn't be out there for you all to see) but, for some reason, I've never been good at that. This could be a huge mistake or a stroke of genius. I hope for the latter, but then again, I guess it's out of my control. 

I'd say that for the last decade, one of my most trustworthy acquaintances has been a pretty dull, inanimate object - the four-way biro. I'm sure that the sound of me zealously clicking away in lecture theatres has given many of my classmates nightmares but it's been my trusty steed and I'm sure it will continue to be.

Last night, I was privileged enough to hear a phenomenal woman speak to a group of  medical students about how 'lucky' we were to be going into such an incredible profession. To date, I've heard that countless times and I'm sure many more doctors will continue to remind me. Personally, I was particularly struck by one statement she made - 'Students are the last brave people left on earth.' I don't consider myself 'brave' at all. But then again maybe I'm being self deprecating. It's taking a lot of courage not to hide behind my obsessively neat and colourful notes and keep my thoughts to myself. I'm putting down the four-way biro, and letting you all in.