Jet Fuel

An intense week of studying did little do assuage my mind as I sat through four trying exams. Exams usually don't bother me. They are generally tolerable and dismissed just as quickly as they come. But man, these four recent exams won't get out of my head. The exams cooked my brain like burnt microwave popcorn, and all that remains is that blackened smell. All the exams took the full legnth, with two spilling an hour over. I can remember my pencil scratching, my headaches, and my blank stares but not much else. I can remember the questions and topics that looked like foreign heiroglyphics, and I just remember the confusion at large. Luckily, the dumbfoundment has ended, and I have the luxury of laying in a bed, sleeping bear-like until I feel like saying "Hi" to the sun. It could be a while.

Yet, the big breakthrough for the week and even the month took place on my plane ride home. After boarding, I had hopes that I would have aisle 12 and the window seat to myself. But a few minutes before take off, a young women approached the two seats I was stretched across. I quickly collected and contained myself to the half I had purchased and invited her to take the adjacent seat. What I failed to notice was the three year old baby girl in her arms. I think my eyes rolled into my head in the typical "oh god, I'm next to the baby that makes all the noise on a plane." I think she noticed, and I quickly smiled to avoid any discussion on the matter.

Behind me, two men, a soldier dressed in fatigues and an old man with a raspy, worn voice, carried on casual conversation. The old man kindly questioned the army recruit about training and gear. The young soldier detailed his kevlar helmet and integrated body armor and proceeded to describe the training.

"We get sawdust in our lungs," the soldier said.
"Sawdust?" replied the man.
"Yeah, we go the pit. The pit is just what it is: a pit of sawdust. We have to crawl through it under low lying wires with blank bullets flying over head. It's the worst."
"Really, the worst?" the old man's voice sounding amused and intrigued at the same time. I imagined the old man smirking at this point. "It's really there to just simulate the real war time thing. The pit can't be worse than that, don't ya think?"
The young man laughed a little and said, "Yeah, I guess the pit's better than that."

At this point the baby girl on my left was playing with my i-pod headphones and staring at me with shiny, googly eyes. Whether the soldier knew it or not, he would be protecting the baby. He would be protecting me and the other hundred passengers on the plane. Whether he knew it or not, I apprecaited his service and his work. Whether the soldier knew it or not, he charged my life with energy. My head was finally out of books, detatched from friends, and the soldier's few words had energized my life. I realized at the moment that no matter what I do in my life, my work should not be for myself, but for others.

You can call it cheezy, corny, the "right thing", moral, ethical, dumb, lame, honorable, great, trivial, or revolutionary. But, there is greatness in doing things for others. There is no guilt, no selfishness, no hatred, no pride, just humility, willingness, and love. I see no greater act in this world and cannot think of what I would do otherwise. It's the very reason why I'm going to be a physician. The very reason why life has such value.