OSCEs and fares sokkar

Between prepping for the most dreaded exam of the year and life's relentless demands, I chose to dance. 

Not just any dancing...I put on a playlist of delightfully crappy songs and let my body tell its own story. 

In dance, I shed every mask, every pretense. Here, in the space between beats, I am always my truest self, moving without judgment or hesitation. 

Dance is my elixir, my potion of life, transforming anxiety into rhythm, fear into flow. 

Lately, I've been keeping my distance from dancing with the girlies. Jealousy crept in like a shadow, uninvited and heavy. Within moments, I found myself performing not just for joy, but for an audience of envious eyes. It's strange how something so pure can become tainted by others' perceptions, yet still remain a sanctuary in solitude. Dance has become my unexpected preparation for the test, each movement a reminder that my body knows things my mind sometimes forgets. But there's something different this time...a discordant note in the melody of my preparation. 

While my feet trace patterns on the floor, my mind traces worry lines in my thoughts. I'm panicking, but it's a quiet kind of panic, an undertow beneath still waters. Something feels off, like a dance partner slightly out of step. 

I'll review my notes again, hoping to find clarity in the familiar rhythm of medical knowledge. Hopefully I'll find a last-minute "pretend patient" ...to help me rehearse this other kind of choreography. Until then, I'll keep dancing, because sometimes the best way through uncertainty is to move with it, rather than against it.