I can't think of one good reason I want to be a surgeon. I have thought of hundreds of excuses--something other than the old "I want to help people" line. I've said how much I like to work with my hands, that I want to do something important, that I am a workaholic who never wants to quit...I have even said I really just want to cut up people and see how they work--and that wouldn't be any fun on dead people (so forensic pathology is out). The truth is, I don't know. I just don't know. All of those answers are probably true, but a straight, honest answer that encompasses all my true feelings--I don't have one. I just don't know.
But, the urge to do it, the desire...it's like the desire to fly. It's overwhelming and a little insane. It makes you giddy all-the-while making you nauseous. It's something that, once you start thinking on it--working out the logistics, believing that maybe it's possible--if you don't try, you'll regret it forever. And, yes, I am terrified I will regret it. And I am also terrified I will fail.
...so, I am trying it. I am trying to be a surgeon. I am hoping that I can. I am hoping to fly.
But, the urge to do something else is always there. I think it is because the idea of becoming a surgeon is so daunting. The time--the years--the money, the sheer soul-sucking possibility of medical school and residency. How scary for anyone. And for me? Someone who has felt she has failed nearly every step along the way. Someone who believes that she isn't so excellent, so smart, so capable as what it takes. Someone who is struck still by the fear of failure. How very, very frightening. The shadow hangs over, and some days I cower in fear.
I want an easy out. I want happiness in an alternate career. I want happiness at all.
Some days I believe I could be happy doing something...smaller. Maybe "smaller" isn't a good word, but when compared to the giant that is a surgical career, "smaller" seems appropriate.
Some days I believe maybe I would do better as a cop. And it's weird, and it's out there, and it's a little unexpected. I'm confused because I have an urge deep down to try it out, if only for a little while; if only to test the flavor.
What I want is a purpose.
I have this idea that one day my life will be shiny and happy, therefore I will be a shiny, happy person.
Well...a girl can dream.
And being a cop could fit into that. I could have a comfortable little life, with an apartment just big enough for me and my dogs, a life just big enough to fit into my means.
A fairly normal existence. Money to buy a coffee and paper every morning. A job where I can be both on the streets working with the people as well as in the office, solving problems and filing paper work. That image is such an unusual temptation for me. Maybe because I believe I will never have that life. Maybe because that kind of comfort currently alludes me. It wouldn't necessarily be a small or simple life, but it would be--could be--comfortable. And I fear I will never have that in my career...maybe never in my life.
I was thinking the other day how unusual I was. I wouldn't consider myself a freak, but--let's be honest--the way people look at me, the way people respond to my answers when they ask me questions...per their reactions, I must be a freak. Or, at least possess a level of freakiness.
I do not date. There is no coming home from work and changing into something nice; throwing on heels and meeting him at the door; returning home and having a new story of a repulsive first date or--more allusive to me--the tinglings of beginning love. I don't have this in my life, and I feel as if I am missing something. It is the same with friends. I rarely lunch or coffee or hit the mall with the girls. I don't have a whole lot of friends and I don't find I whole lot of attraction in spending my time with a whole lot of people. There is a handful of people I would spend most of my days with, and they usually don't want to spend most of their days with me. And that's okay--it has to be okay, because I can't change people and I can't be sad about things I can't change. But, it does make me feel...less than normal. A bit freaky.
And the idea of having the type of life that allowed me to feel some semblance of normal...it's so damn appealing I almost want to change all my plans and find a way to live like that instead.
But, then I don't. I haven't. I won't.
Because surgery is so alluring? Or because I believe it is what I am meant to do? Because I believe the person I am meant to be isn't quite arrived, and I can't only truly know me when I have truly explored my passion for medicine?
I probably don't really know the answer to that either.
I am learning that I really don't know a whole lot at all. About anything, about anyone, about myself.
Who knows...maybe I am happy enough as it is. Maybe I will be happy enough living like I do. Few friends, little family, no boys to chase after me. But, an education, a career, a passion I can fill my life with...maybe that's enough.
I want to believe that it is, but deep down I don't think anyone is ever completely satisfied. I'll probably be back and forth forever...or at least for a few years. Maybe I will always wonder.
What I know--that maybe I will always wonder if I would have been happy as a cop, but I absolutely will always wonder if I don't become a doctor.
So the decision lies there.
Medicine is a part of my life now, and I don't think it is going anywhere. And me? I am always indecisive. Even now, I am torn between what to do first--paramedic or surgical technologist. I honestly don't know if I will ever actually decide, but will instead go with where my life takes me.
The truth is, I just want to be moving forward. Moving forward, not looking back, filling my life with purpose.
So I'll Put Them Behind My Back
But, the urge to do it, the desire...it's like the desire to fly. It's overwhelming and a little insane. It makes you giddy all-the-while making you nauseous. It's something that, once you start thinking on it--working out the logistics, believing that maybe it's possible--if you don't try, you'll regret it forever. And, yes, I am terrified I will regret it. And I am also terrified I will fail.
...so, I am trying it. I am trying to be a surgeon. I am hoping that I can. I am hoping to fly.
But, the urge to do something else is always there. I think it is because the idea of becoming a surgeon is so daunting. The time--the years--the money, the sheer soul-sucking possibility of medical school and residency. How scary for anyone. And for me? Someone who has felt she has failed nearly every step along the way. Someone who believes that she isn't so excellent, so smart, so capable as what it takes. Someone who is struck still by the fear of failure. How very, very frightening. The shadow hangs over, and some days I cower in fear.
I want an easy out. I want happiness in an alternate career. I want happiness at all.
Some days I believe I could be happy doing something...smaller. Maybe "smaller" isn't a good word, but when compared to the giant that is a surgical career, "smaller" seems appropriate.
Some days I believe maybe I would do better as a cop. And it's weird, and it's out there, and it's a little unexpected. I'm confused because I have an urge deep down to try it out, if only for a little while; if only to test the flavor.
What I want is a purpose.
I have this idea that one day my life will be shiny and happy, therefore I will be a shiny, happy person.
Well...a girl can dream.
And being a cop could fit into that. I could have a comfortable little life, with an apartment just big enough for me and my dogs, a life just big enough to fit into my means.
A fairly normal existence. Money to buy a coffee and paper every morning. A job where I can be both on the streets working with the people as well as in the office, solving problems and filing paper work. That image is such an unusual temptation for me. Maybe because I believe I will never have that life. Maybe because that kind of comfort currently alludes me. It wouldn't necessarily be a small or simple life, but it would be--could be--comfortable. And I fear I will never have that in my career...maybe never in my life.
I was thinking the other day how unusual I was. I wouldn't consider myself a freak, but--let's be honest--the way people look at me, the way people respond to my answers when they ask me questions...per their reactions, I must be a freak. Or, at least possess a level of freakiness.
I do not date. There is no coming home from work and changing into something nice; throwing on heels and meeting him at the door; returning home and having a new story of a repulsive first date or--more allusive to me--the tinglings of beginning love. I don't have this in my life, and I feel as if I am missing something. It is the same with friends. I rarely lunch or coffee or hit the mall with the girls. I don't have a whole lot of friends and I don't find I whole lot of attraction in spending my time with a whole lot of people. There is a handful of people I would spend most of my days with, and they usually don't want to spend most of their days with me. And that's okay--it has to be okay, because I can't change people and I can't be sad about things I can't change. But, it does make me feel...less than normal. A bit freaky.
And the idea of having the type of life that allowed me to feel some semblance of normal...it's so damn appealing I almost want to change all my plans and find a way to live like that instead.
But, then I don't. I haven't. I won't.
Because surgery is so alluring? Or because I believe it is what I am meant to do? Because I believe the person I am meant to be isn't quite arrived, and I can't only truly know me when I have truly explored my passion for medicine?
I probably don't really know the answer to that either.
I am learning that I really don't know a whole lot at all. About anything, about anyone, about myself.
Who knows...maybe I am happy enough as it is. Maybe I will be happy enough living like I do. Few friends, little family, no boys to chase after me. But, an education, a career, a passion I can fill my life with...maybe that's enough.
I want to believe that it is, but deep down I don't think anyone is ever completely satisfied. I'll probably be back and forth forever...or at least for a few years. Maybe I will always wonder.
What I know--that maybe I will always wonder if I would have been happy as a cop, but I absolutely will always wonder if I don't become a doctor.
So the decision lies there.
Medicine is a part of my life now, and I don't think it is going anywhere. And me? I am always indecisive. Even now, I am torn between what to do first--paramedic or surgical technologist. I honestly don't know if I will ever actually decide, but will instead go with where my life takes me.
The truth is, I just want to be moving forward. Moving forward, not looking back, filling my life with purpose.
So I'll Put Them Behind My Back
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