Today marks a day in the history of my career in the medical field. I got my first chemical burn. On my index finger of my right hand. At first, I didn't realize I had hurt myself. It burned a little but I wrote it off like it was nothing. Needless to say, it's taking me a little while to type now. I didn't think it was a big deal though. It comes with the work, right? Nah... probably not.
I can't say I've always wanted to be a doctor. I actually wanted to be a lawyer until I was 10. Then, a year long period where I wanted to be a writer. Another year after where I wanted to be a housewife. Two more years of not giving a damn. Then, around 14 years old I decided I wanted to be a doctor. I wanted to save lives. And, that's what I'm in the process of doing. Trying gain all the knowledge and the skill to keep people living. But, to be honest with you, it might kill me in the process.
I enjoy science and math. I love that no matter how many ways you do the problem, 2+2 will always equal 4. That even though it goes against basic logic, when an agent is reduced, it gains electrons. You're either right or you're wrong. Sometimes I wish the world could be that black and white. But that's just the control freak in me.
The only thing that gets me about this profession is the stress. I hardly have my feet in the water and the tide is already close to pulling me under. You have to submerge yourself in it. There has to be a dedication there. And, I have already seen myself devote more time to learning. It's gotten to the point where effort is necessary. I have always been one of the smartest people around. It's obvious. I excell and this shit comes easily to me. Not anymore though. I have actually had to try and I realize it will only get more difficult. Boy, is that hard for me to wrap my head around. Maybe this summer will prepare me for it all. I'm taking an EMT/Paramedic course back at home so I can work in the city next year and next summer as an EMT. Actually dealing with real people. Putting those Bio and Anatomy chapters to actual use. What a frightening, but great feeling. And if I get migraines or my hair becomes even more thin than it has already this year due to the stress, I have to remind myself that it will all be worth it in the end.
You know, I would have been a great lawyer. I'm stubborn most of the time. And, even if I don't say it, I have a comment for everything that someone else says. I'm good at fighting. I'm good with conflict. I just have a little self control.
I could have been a good writer too. This may not reflect it, but I think it's something I can do naturally. I was published when I was younger in an Anthology of Poetry. I hope to be published again someday... even if it's a thesis on the cure to Cancer. That wouldn't be bad, right?
As a housewife, I would have been better after practice. I can't really cook, but I can clean, kids love me, I can take care of people well, and I've got an ass that won't quit.
And not giving a damn? God, I wish that could be a job.
But instead, I picked medicine. And, with that, I included a picture from finals week. Glass windows are great from long chemistry problems.
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