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First year of med school鈥攖he professor tediously explains every detail of the inner ear;

It鈥檚 8:00 AM, I missed my morning coffee, and like most other students would rather not be here.

He doesn鈥檛 seem to mind, caught up in teaching the pathways of how we hear;

Before dozing off, I hear him say, 鈥淭his is the most beautiful thing I鈥檝e studied in my career.鈥�

Second year of med school鈥攏eurology is the subject that the lecturer is eager to explain;

She dives into the details of the tracts and pathways鈥攅xplaining light touch, vibration, and pain.

She talks briefly of serotonin and norepinephrine and attempts to explain how we stay sane;

She pauses mid-sentence and says, 鈥淣othing is as beautiful as the complexity of the brain.鈥�

Third year of med school鈥擨 find a moment alone, and I briefly forget about my rotation;

In solitude, I daydream until a woman鈥檚 urgent cry interrupts my mind鈥檚 vacation.

I rush into the woman鈥檚 room, and the intern tells me to hurry and check the baby鈥檚 station;

As I gown up, the intern smiles and says, 鈥淏irth is truly the greatest beauty of God鈥檚 creation.鈥�

Fourth year of med school鈥攁cting intern is my title, but relatively speaking, life is now a breeze;

The hours are slightly longer than I would like, but I now can carry my patient load with ease.

Before I leave for the day, the resident asks, 鈥淐an you check on your patient鈥檚 EKG, please.鈥�

But as I get up, I see the family in room 12 surrounding the bed, all of them down on their knees.

The man in the bed is not my patient, but I rush in to make sure everything is all right;

As I approach the patient鈥檚 bed, a hand grabs my arm, and I turn to see his wife.

She tells me her husband is now where he belongs鈥攊n a place free from pain and strife;

She explains her family was just kneeling to thank God for the wonderful years of his life.

That evening as I leave my shift, I fight the tears that blur my eyes,

But before I exit the hospital, a sight provides me a much-needed surprise:

Waiting for her car, a mother holds her newborn son鈥擨 listen as she gently soothes his cries.

Her other child jumps after a floating balloon; she鈥檒l never reach it, but still she tries.

Beyond them a businessman makes his way to the psychiatric clinic, and I try not to stare鈥�

But I can see the years of depression in his eyes and the worry in the gray of his hair.

As I exit the building, I pass an older man walking with his daughter toward Urgent Care;

He whispers to her, 鈥淚f they want me to stay, go home to your mom; she will need you there.鈥�

As I drive home that night, a thought occurs to me, as I reflect on each med school year:

The complexities of disease and medicine are intriguing, but they are not why I鈥檓 here.

At times the work may be hard, fellow colleagues rude, and the long hours quite severe;

But then I recall the family praising God for their dad, the mom holding her baby so near.

Medicine is messy, cases complex, and the beauties of medicine abound both far and near鈥�

But at the end of the day, it鈥檚 the people I serve that will always be the true beauty of my career.