Tuesday, March 8, 2011

The hardest working man in...med school

My husband is pretty awesome. It's easy to forget that sometimes when I'm picking his socks up off of the floor or showing him where we keep the Ziploc bags (for the one-millionth time). But, then again, it's easy to remember when I look at what he's managed to accomplish since I've known him.

He made it through undergrad with an honours degree, having not missed a SINGLE class in four years and simultaneously maintaining a rather impressive dedication to partying.

He worked like a dog to not only finish his PhD but to publish really smart-sounding articles in really famous (if you're a science geek) journals.

He married me. I'm not sure whether I'm writing that in the tone of "What an awesome decision-maker he is" or "Man, all that and he puts up with her!". You decide.

He got himself accepted into medical school while working really hard on that PhD.

He went back to the classroom after an almost seven year hiatus and was consistently one of the top students in his class throughout medical school.

During medical school, when couples are breaking up left, right and center, he managed to be a husband, a student and a father without neglecting anyone or anything. All this while moving to three different countries in four years.

He has always had his priorities straight and he has always been willing to do what needs to be done. He is the hardest worker I have ever known. Combined with the fact that he's also one of the most intelligent people I know, it's no surprise that he took our expectations for his future in medicine and blew them out of the water.

When he enrolled in a Caribbean medical school, we assumed that a) we would never be able to come back to Canada, and b) he wouldn't be going into any really competitive specialties. Being an international medical graduate and a Canadian applying in the US means that you already have two strikes against you, before they even look at your CV. We knew it was an uphill battle. But whatever our expectations were, he worked just as hard as if he were applying to Radiation Oncology at Harvard. Because he did apply there. He applied everywhere, including Canada, for what he wanted, not what he thought he might get.

And he got it. We are going back to Canada. J is being given the opportunity to do the cancer research that has always been so important to him. Everything we could have hoped for in our lives is now possible, and it has absolutely everything to do with my husband and his extraordinary dedication to himself and his family. I can't possibly express how proud I am of him. But I could use a kleenex.

Congratulations, J. I am so painfully proud to be your wife. Even if you can't fold a towel properly.

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