The biggest test.

It's 9:15pm. Feels just like the night before a big exam. The anxiety is palpable. I flipped through study notes and last-minute reminders on various topics. I get my books and all my materials organized. I tell myself it's going to be fine. I've done this tons of times. Just like every big exam, I tell myself that cramming by this point is useless, that I should trust my preparation, that I already know my stuff, and that I shouldn't worry so much.

Only that this is actually not a test.

It's only my first day of work as an independent staff doctor.

Weird, it's been a few years since I've already earned the "doctor" title. I've been in really bad situations before all by myself. I've had to make difficult decisions without any backing. But every other time, I always had somebody to answer to, which meant I had somebody to ask if I wasn't sure. It was never my sole responsibility. I was never going out on a limp. I always had crutches.

But tomorrow, it's just gonna be me. I've tried that before, when I played "let's pretend" with my preceptors and ran their clinics for weeks. I usually do okay, but do occasionally encounter difficulties that I ended up consulting them for. Sometimes, when I'm tired, I just ask them for the easy answer instead of having to solve the problem myself. But this time there will be no such guardian angel. When I sign my name at the end of every chart, there is nobody responsible for that but me.

It should be alright. I'll just keep telling myself that. I'm a cautious and conscientious person anyhow, and if I don't know I can always still look things up or make a referral. But it is still nerve-wrecking nonetheless. I'll try to enjoy it. For the first time after years of studying and training, I'm going to be a real doctor tomorrow.

Everything I've learned since day one of medical school, it all applies now.

The Golden Goal.

Who writes this stuff anyway?

Sidney Crosby, scoring the overtime winner, in the gold medal game at the Olympics held in Canada, at the final event of the tournament. The goal that defined a generation of Canadians, the goal that gave a nation the medal that it wants most, the goal that put us over the top in records for gold medals in any Olympics, on the last day, at the last event, at the last possible moment.

There cannot be a better script for a finish for what has been an amazing Olympic experience.

With one shot, an entire nation breathe a sigh of relieve and rejoice for hours to come.

We won gold in hockey at home. That is what everyone wanted to hear ever since the games were awarded to Vancouver so many years ago.

The only thing that was slightly bitter-sweet was that, deep inside, I had wanted Luongo to be the hero, not Crosby. But then again, in Canada, in hockey today, is there a better person to play the protagonist than what has been the face of hockey ever since he stepped into the league?

This has been Crosby's games. It's only fitting that he finishes it.

We won gold. Finally. It's done.