I Thought University Would Give Me Time. Then I Met Medicine.
I came to university with a plan.
Actually, I came with many plans.
I wanted to do business. I wanted to make money. I wanted to explore Artificial Intelligence. I wanted to write books. I wanted to build things. I wanted to try different ideas, meet different people and discover what I could become outside the classroom.
I thought university was finally going to give me the freedom to do all of that.
Then I met medicine.
And medicine basically said:
“Not so fast.”
At first, I didn’t understand what I had gotten myself into.
You attend lectures, you take notes, you go home thinking you’ll have time to work on your own projects.
Then you realise there is an entire topic you haven’t studied.
So you study.
Then another lecture comes.
Then another.
Then a practical.
Then a test.
Then continuous assessment.
Then another test.
Then professional examinations start getting closer.
And suddenly, that business idea you were so excited about is sitting somewhere in your notes, waiting for the day you finally have time.
That book you wanted to write?
Still an idea.
That AI project you wanted to start?
“Maybe during the holidays.”
That business you wanted to build?
“After exams.”
And the funny thing is, there is always another exam.
Medical school has a way of making you realise that time is probably one of the most expensive things you have.
You don’t just need to attend lectures.
You need to understand.
You need to revise.
You need to memorise.
You need to practise.
You need to prepare for practicals.
You need to build your continuous assessment marks.
You need to think about professional examinations.
And somewhere in all of that, you are supposed to sleep, eat, have a social life and remain a functioning human being.
Biomedical sciences?
Ah. It’s a lot.
There were moments when I honestly felt like the person I wanted to become outside medicine was slowly disappearing.
Not because the ambition disappeared.
The ambition was still there.
The ideas were still there.
The dreams were still there.
I simply didn’t have enough time to give them the attention I wanted.
And that was frustrating.
Because I didn’t come to university wanting to be only a student.
I wanted to build.
I wanted to experiment.
I wanted to create.
I wanted to make money.
I wanted to write.
I wanted to explore technology.
I wanted to do things that perhaps had nothing to do with my degree.
But medicine demanded something from me that I wasn’t prepared for:
discipline.
It taught me that wanting to do many things is easy.
Finding the time to actually do them is the difficult part.
For a while, I thought I had to choose.
Medicine or business.
Medicine or writing.
Medicine or AI.
Medicine or everything else I wanted to explore.
But eventually, I realised that I didn’t necessarily have to choose.
I had to learn how to balance.
I had to accept that I couldn’t give everything 100% of my time.
Sometimes medicine would need 90%.
Sometimes it would need 100%.
Sometimes all I would have left would be an hour for myself.
And I had to learn how to use that hour.
Maybe I couldn’t build a whole business in one day.
But I could work on an idea.
Maybe I couldn’t write an entire book.
But I could write a page.
Maybe I couldn’t master AI in a week.
But I could learn something new.
Maybe I couldn’t accomplish everything I imagined at university.
But I could make progress.
And that changed my perspective.
I’m slowly finding my footing.
I’m still studying.
Still reading.
Still preparing for exams.
Still trying to build strong continuous assessment marks.
Still surviving practicals.
Still dealing with the beautiful chaos that is biomedical sciences.
But I’m also slowly getting back to the things that made me ambitious in the first place.
Business.
Writing.
Technology.
AI.
Ideas.
Projects.
And the desire to build something of my own.
I’ve realised that being busy doesn’t mean you have to stop dreaming.
Sometimes your dreams just have to move at a different speed.
And maybe that’s okay.
I used to think success meant doing everything at once.
Now I’m beginning to understand that sometimes success is simply refusing to abandon the things you love while dealing with the responsibilities you have.
So yes, I’m a medical student.
But I’m also much more than my degree.
I’m someone who wants to build.
Someone who wants to create.
Someone who wants to explore.
Someone who wants to make an impact.
And I’m learning to do all of that without letting my ambitions destroy my prioritiesor letting my priorities destroy my ambitions.
Maybe I won’t build everything today.
Maybe I won’t achieve everything this year.
But I’ll keep building.
Even if it’s slowly.
Even if it’s between lectures.
Even if it’s after an exam.
Even if it’s one page, one idea, one business move or one project at a time.
Because medicine may have taken a lot of my time.
But it didn’t take away my ambition.
I’m still here.
And I’m still building.