I have degrees in Biomedical Science, and Burns, Plastic & Reconstructive Surgery (are you weak in the knees yet?). I’ve had the pleasure of working and living with medical doctors in several different contexts. My family has medical ties. If I were a stem cell, I’d classify my environment as highly inductive for doctor-differentiation.
And so, I’ve found myself envisioning Dr. Brett as a reality; changing the lives of patients and families, throwing snappy, clever remarks at my interns, and living out my days to the opening theme tune of ER. Plus I look damn good in scrub-blue.
Many have asked me if I’m going to go to med school. It’s a tempting thought.
It took purchasing MCAT preparatory material for me to snap out of it. Had I truly wanted medicine as a career, I would have sought out medical experience in my free time, not scientific research. I would have sat down and seriously contemplated the commitment this endeavour would take. And ideally, I’d also have an innate sense of ‘patient care’ (the extent of my skills here inarguably peaked in 2007, where I made a drinking straw out of cling film and the curled up side of an Uncle Ben’s rice box, for my tonsillitis-stricken sister) (while that was helpful, skills like that can’t really translate in a regulated hospital setting).
Thus, with a red face, I returned to the bookstore about an hour and a half after my MCAT book purchase and transacted, mortifyingly enough, with the same cashier.
"Um, I changed my mind. Didn't want it".
This isn't a t-shirt or mug I was returning, the 1497-page tome was symbolic of years of training, effort, money, and exams. For something that wasn't a DREAM of mine!? The mission was promptly aborted.
And that's a-ok. My face turned from the embarrassed puce red to it’s normal, heavy-drinker red.
I don’t know how many of you are contemplating a move in your career/education. But...
Some wise man told me once that the toughest decisions are the ones we make to take no action. Killing an idea is sometimes the best thing you can do!
And so, in the spirit of laughter being the best medicine, here's the receipt that represents the closest I'll ever get to med school. Handed to me by Eric, the very hungover and disinterested-looking guy behind the till.
Moral: be sure about your career commitments & don't be afraid to kill the things that aren't your dreams!
