I Want

I met a terminally ill patient. He gave me this piece of advice: If you’re not enjoying it, stop doing it.

The wind was harsh, the sun was weak, soon to be overpowered by the enveloping darkness. It didn’t look like an especial gloomy day, it was just like any other day autumn day. I missed my footing as I stepped out of the car. The warmth of the radiator was brusquely replaced by the chill of the autumn, and its corroborative partner played along its conceived plan of sucking the heat from my body. I swung the door shut, but it merely budged a little against the resistance of a wind that blew against it. I applied greater force, ensured the heavy door was safely secured against the front pillar. My hair was all over the place, dishevelled and messed up by the wind. I turned to look at the doctor. I saw a bit of semblance there; he looked like George Clooney.

During the journey to this man’s house, he had given me his history. He was a good teacher, always probing for answers before he provided the answers. If I fell short, he would give me hints which encouraged an answer. When he introduced me to his patients, he made me feel like his protege, his apprentice, like how it should be.

At the porch, he lifted the hinge of the knocker and struck it against the door. A loud, resounding noise was produced. His knock resonated his character: loud, brash, but gentle in spirit.

We were led to the living room by his wife. He was expecting us. We sat, then he talked.

In between his words, he would pause. He needed a moment to catch his breath, a moment to process the pain he was suffering from. It was obvious- whilst his wife sobbed, he conversed non-nonchalantly. He refused to choke, the idea of him leaving his wife a widow was probably worse than the suffering he was experiencing.

6 weeks.

We left. In the car, he asked me what I thought.

Pain management? His reaction was forged into my memory. It would be a sharp reminder every time I look at a terminally ill patient.

God, I want to believe in You. And I do.

Shame

Like a blow to my ego, if I have any left- the news could hardly affect me. I wasn’t stubborn, I was emotionally numb. I had to match their expectations, but still it bore no fruit.

That was a wrong mentality. Authorities are not always right. The higher powers are not infallible.

It was like any other day. The registrar was performing his usual ward round. He is a great doctor, nothing can be said against him. Inappropriate gestures and jokes aside, he is the epitome of a modern day physician.

A patient spoke to him that day with a sense of regret that was almost incomprehensible. He was not unwell, admitted for social reasons, and he was bothered by his burden on his doctors. In a tone of commiseration, the doctor deigned, whilst maintaining the patient’s dignity, and explained that he was paid to look after patients. It was his job, and he was paid to do it. Medicine is like any other job. Bankers are paid to look after our money, so are doctors paid to look after us. No, it is not a glorified profession. They are like any other.

The modern day doctor sits in the panel of judges. He looks through applicants and interviews them.

Why do you want to be a doctor?

The ones who have passed this test would know this is a trick question. An answer suggestive of nobility is chastised as naivety. And if I were to attend the interview again, I would still be a perceived as a naive person. They want to listen to answers suggestive of professionalism, and nobility is not born of professionalism, rather of naivety.

What is the perfect answer? The answer that would impress the interviewer? We all know the answer. It’s not difficult.

It is deeply disconcerting that a sense of righteousness must now be so regimented, so conceding to a implicit ministry of justice.

I am changing, this is undeniable. But I must remain the same. I must remember the reason I came here. I will change, but yet remain the same. The core values that distinguish me as an individual must remain. The outcome is an emotional struggle within. I hope I would emerge from this wrangle not a winner, but the person He wants me to be.

I once told Him: Lord, at this moment, I have to give you up and focus on my studies. But this can’t be the case. To give Him up is to give up everything I’ve worked for. Who do I live for? I made a decision to live for myself, and look where it has taken me. I have to make a turn around and reset my sights on Him, because He is my reason.

Selflessness and to live my life for others. This is His command, not mine.

I want a comfortable life. Medicine is the safest option at this moment because I know once I have graduated I will be guaranteed a job. Say what you want, but we all know this is the most agreeable answer.

What does He want? What do You want? If I continue to struggle, at least I have You to comfort me. I have once hated You for the disappointments You threw at me. However, if I must fail, I will fail. But at least, if I fail with You by my side, I will be comforted by Your presence.

You say I do not get because I do not ask. And if I must ask, I must ask not for personal pleasures, but with Your commands in mind. Therefore I ask You of this, I ask that I will be the doctor You want me to be. And no judgement from them would affect my belief. This is my faith in You. I hope You will answer this prayer.

Change

The world is perpetually changing, its face continuously being contorted into a similar looking countenance, largely due to its underlying tectonic plates. The core of the earth persists in its quality. However, nothing much in terms of appearance is appreciable in this region; it remains the same, unchanging. From time to time, it spurts out its content to the surface. Such events usually bring forth disastrous outcomes.

I have digressed from my topic. It is not my intention to talk about geography.

Change, a big word thanks to a big man. Our belief in change has been cemented by the emergence of a world leader whose skin colour differs to that of his predecessors. But has anything changed apart from that? Perhaps a little, but not much. His contribution, nonetheless, must not be restrained to the development in his country, for he is a world leader. His rise to the top in the political scene has sparked a series of events in certain parts in the world, especially in the Middle East. Now, people are largely unsatisfied with their current government, and in developed countries anarchy is starting to be a gripping issue. In the future, it may be confused with revolution. When that time comes, distinction between good and bad will be a even blurry subject.

Change has since permeated into other areas of society. In my personal opinion, change has been the key word in my profession. And change- again I must stress that this is my personal view- has ran its course along the face of medicine that its badly sutured outcome is no longer a recognizable one.

Regret? Hardly. Disappointment? Very much so. I am disheartened by its malleability on the hands of its ambitious so-called leaders. My maturity may be dictating my views, for am I quite an idealistic punk. But these are my views, views which I tried bending towards that of the majority. I am an aberration in my profession, and this greatly disheartens me.

You ask why.

Nobility and integrity- these are the virtues the profession should uphold. But it has been replaced by accountability. You must not take my word out of context. I agree with accountability, it keeps everyone safe, and it keeps us clean and connected. But such is the grip of this virtue on its practitioners that a body now controls most of our actions. It still looks alright, but I foresee a horrible future, for me at least. Emotions are dumped into the bin, treated like trash because we were constantly taught that there’s no space for this whimsical nonsense. We are taught to be professional, and what awesome professionals we are turning out to be. The way we behave, even the way we talk now is being scrutinized.  The body is strong and domineering, so we must adhere.

Regulation is good, but fascism is not. I am not putting a label on anything.

My vision of a good practitioner remains close to my heart. I can’t allow it to be tainted, because this vision is what brought me here. If I change, I would lose this passion. I would lose sight of the model I made myself out to be.

I am disappointed, disheartened. But I fear I must persist and persevere.