When the love of my life started medical school, I knew she would need all of my support to get through it. I knew this because she told me.
“Sam,” she said. “I will need all of your support to get through this.”
I smiled, kissed her face and she stroked my hair the way she always does.
But I didn’t know how much that really meant.
“I love you,” she says in the morning. “I’ll see you when I get back.”
But I never know when she’ll be back.
There are long days, days when I find myself waiting for her to return, running in circles, almost driving myself crazy with worry.
Is this worth it? Who am I? Who is that strange man coming to the doorbell?
What if she leaves me for someone else? She never does, though.
There are days when I know she’d be too tired to cook. I wish I could cook; I wish I could cook so badly to make her happy. But I don’t know how. One time, I gathered my favorite things for her to eat. She picked through it, smiled politely, and made both of us dinner.
I wish I could cook, so that I can love her more.
There are days when she cries. These are the days when she needs me the most, to listen, to just be there. Days before exams.
Days after exams.
We don’t lie in bed and cuddle anymore like we used to. There is no more time for that.
We have fights.
“Let’s go out,” I’d say. “We should really go out, blow off some steam. Come on, we’ll have a ball.”
“I can’t. I have Renal.”
“Rough.”
I knew that she would be suffering, but to this extent, I did not know.
But, for these times, I can only wag my tail and give her all of my love.
It’s the best a dog can do.
Contributing Writer
UC San Diego School of Medicine
Andrew is a fourth year medical student at University of California, San Diego SOM in La Jolla, CA, class of 2020. In 2013, he graduated from Dartmouth College with a Bachelor of Arts in history. He enjoys collecting vintage wristwatches and writing flash fiction. He is currently applying into emergency medicine.