"Everyday we get to give the gift of life, it can be painful, it can be terrifying, but in the end it's worth it. Every time. We all have the opportunity to give. Maybe the gifts are not as dramatic as what happens in the operating room, maybe the gift is to try and make a simple apology, maybe it's to understand another person's point of view, maybe it's to hold a secret for a friend. The joy supposedly is in the giving, so when the joy is gone, when the giving starts to feel more like a burden, that's when you stop. But if you're like most people I know, you give till it hurts, and then you give some more." --Grey's Anatomy

I have been thinking about Justin Hughes a lot this week. Actually, I think about him a lot regardless. And I see his face everywhere...in a crowd of people downtown, in the grocery store, in the hospital. The same thing happened when my friend Kevin's little sister passed away; I'm not sure if I ever told him but I saw Erin's face often, too. I know it is my mind playing tricks on me as it is physically impossible to see their faces on this earth any longer. But it is the subconscious aspect of it that makes me think. Both of them fought in their own way until they could not fight any longer...one against cancer, the other against things we will likely never know about. But in both cases...well, in all cases for that matter, what are we supposed to learn after they're gone?

The word 'tragic' doesn't begin to envelope the loss that so many people have felt as a result of Justin's death. Although I did not see or talk to him everyday, he reminds me that even the most successful, seemingly put together friends in our lives may be battling internal issues that are beyond our help...and that is frightening. I am a do-er; situations in which I cannot fix the problem are frustrating and I tend to blame myself for not finding a suitable solution wrapped in a bow. Very ego-dystonic, if you will (see, I am studying for psych). But then again, perhaps that is exactly why I should be a doctor. Because for every person that I can't help, there are ten people I CAN help. And that's what makes this whole medical school process worth it. It is hell at times. At times I question if I made the right decision in going into medicine...and I think we all do at some point. Maybe it's healthy; at the very least maybe it will prevent us from waking up in five years with that terrifying sense of regret in the bottom of our stomachs.

Justin's parents will be speaking at UTMB in March and I am going to try my hardest to be there. I think it is important for his parents to know that we won't forget their son, especially because he was walking the same hospital hallways that we are just a few months ago. Maybe they can help us understand, or at least stop trying to.