Harvard Medical School. It really shouldn't hold any sway over me. It really shouldn't. I thought I gave that up, the pangs of jealousy mixed with respect. I thought I left it in highschool.
While perusing thefacebook after some friends here at the medschool friended me, I found myself searching for alum'05, and an old aqquaintance popped up. We were never friends. Ethan, not his real name, and I took two semester of organic chemistry together, and on occasions, in class, we chatted. We had the same Teaching Fellow, and eventually, we sought this man's help throughout the semesters. Organic chemistry was one of those courses that can make or break a pre-med, and we knew the stakes were high, both because Orgo is a hard subject, and failure at it had consequences for our supposed futures. But Ethan didn't ever seem to me to be the intellectually inquisitive type; he was more cavalier, the premed-by-day, final-club-party-by-night kinda guy. I guess he knew how to live.
I still remember the time he asked me for help to study for the Orgo final. I never got any good vibes from him as a student, and truth be told he was terrible at it, but not because he was dumb. It just seemed like he didn't study enough. I explained the problems to him. He thanked me. We never talked after that. All the years at Harvard, he rarely acknowledged me when we pass on the way to the same dining hall, even though we live in the same House. I felt used. I still do.
He's at Harvard Medical School now, an MD-MBA candidate. I'm not.
It really shouldn't matter; it's just a school. His success does not mean my failure. It shouldn't mean anything at all.
But in this game, clearly, he did something right.
He always knew how to live.
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