What I remember about medical school

It's a surreal feeling to be awake today. The morning air smells so fresh and the skies look beautiful and cloudless. The day after finishing the biggest exam of my life feels extraordinary.
These five years of medical school feels like a dream. There certainly has been an almost disproportionate amount of my time spent poring over books. But the memories that stick probably have nothing to do with books. They are the times I spent together with friends, old and new, in the chalet's of medicamp, during morning breakfast with friends and in the wards of the hospitals. They are the times I endured a particularly tough examination and finding out that my friends had the exact same difficulty. They are the times I spent listening to friends complain during particularly long journeys home. They are the times I meet a familiar face that I can't quite put a name to but receive a friendly smile or wave in return.
Sometimes I wonder why I spend a disproportionate amount of time poring over lecture notes, senior's notes, senior's accounts or medical textbooks. The memories I have of medical school have absolutely nothing to do with any of these things.
They're to do with the people who read them.