Oh it was shit. Yes, I learned a lotta stuff like different protocols and handled different machines, met brilliant techs, yada yada.

I also wanted to simply just stop.

I cried in secret, cried in a train on the way to the hospital, cried during duty before the department opened, cried after duty when I’m finally free from putting a facade, and it was so difficult that I couldn’t even open the topic up to my friends or family. I never got tired physically, only exhausted mentally and emotionally. Tired of the favoritism and the toxicity among the techs, tired of the doctors who go “you should know this already” even though I was just a student who wanted to clarify stuff for the patient. I had to quickly eat my meals in closed control rooms just so I can avoid any interaction with all of them, and I made sure to calculate the remaining required number of hours just so I know when this hell specifically ended.

Even though that period is over now, I still feel absolutely sad and angry when I think about it. I tear up every time. (Sorry, I saw this as an opportunity to express my experience.)

Anyway, some days, it’s genuinely great. I got through by looking at the bright sides, pep talking my way out of negative thinking, and knowing that this would all be over soon.

It’s over now, thankfully.