Tag Archive | University

Why I’m Suicidal (Part I)

Now before you all  shove your suicide hot line numbers in my face (on which, paradoxically, I might choke), I’m not suicidal yet. However, I want to become a doctor, so I am convinced that a part of me must be slightly crazy. Slightly. No comments please.

I’ve wanted to be a doctor ever since I was a little girl, around 6 years old. As the years pass I’ve always stuck firm to my resolution, never wavering from the path of my dreams, but never really thinking about it either. Now, less than a year away from college applications, people (including my pushy but well-intentioned parents) are questioning my motives. Why do I want to become a doctor? Why would I want to put myself through so many years of hell? Well maybe I like hell. Did you ever think of that? Huh? Wait no… I like lazing around and doing nothing. I really need to ask myself some serious questions. After a lot of procrastinating and wishing that I had a yacht (don’t ask, even I don’t know), I’ve come up with a certain number of reasons why I want to be a doctor.

#1: It’s as interesting as a chocolate fountain

Chocolate fountains are interesting as fudge (get it? *big grin* no? *grin fades a little* I use the word ‘fudge’ to replace f*ck, and in context it worked so well that I found myself quite clever. Whaaat am I doing?). Biology is my favorite class in the whole wide world, because I always learn something new, something so amazing that it often makes my mouth hang open and my eyes widen until someone tells me that I look like a dying fish. “Yeah, but CT, you learn things in other classes too, isn’t that the point of school?” I see where you’re coming from, oh stranger of the Internet, but for me there’s a vast difference in between say, what I learn in math and what I learn in bio. Here’s an example:
BIO
Teacher: did you if someone laid your blood vessels from end to end they would circle the Earth approximately 2,5 times?
Me: I COULD RULE THE WOR-Oh wait no I’d be dead. *looks down at body* The force is strong with this one!
MATH
Teacher: did you know that if cosx = 1/2, x= pi/3 or -pi/3?
Me: Oh my god, who the hell cares?
See, there’s just something about the world of science that is so fascinating that sometimes I can’t tear myself away from my biology book. Math on the other hand I have no trouble putting at the bottom of my bag where I can’t see it.

#2: The knight of the sick

Knights can be women now right? No? Only dames? But I want to go around on a horse and save people too! When you’re a doctor, your patients look up to you, unless you do a crappy job, in which case they risk killing you with a chainsaw in the middle of the night while eating a hamburger. I’m not saying that I’m avid of power, but it’s nice to be needed and to know that you can make someone’s life better, show them the way out of the dark abyss that they’d been stuck in, and most of all put a smile back on their face. I know it’s cliché, but there’s a reason that people use it as a reason (not at all repetitive CT, good sentence structure): there’s nothing quite like seeing someone’s face light up because you’ve made them happy.

#3: It’s fulfilling (like mint-chip ice cream)

The awesome thing about making someone else happy is that it makes you happy. There’s nothing that makes me more pleased than someone’s eyes widen in delight when they see that I have cookies. Is that selfish? I can’t tell, and it’s stressing me out a little bit. Aaand now I’ve forgotten what I was talking about. Ah yes: I imagine that making people feel better and taking away the pain is a bit like giving someone a cookie and a hug when they’re having a bad day, but in a much more important sense. I don’t want to get stuck in a dead end job where I finish some kind of project and get absolutely no satisfaction in it, sit back in my chair and think; “I miss the days when I was all smiley faces and jumped around ecstatically when I accomplished something (and not because I was high either)“. I want to feel something inside of me each time a patient come around and tells me that he or she is feeling better, something new and refreshing that will motivate me to keep going.

#4: I will NEVER get bored

And if I do, there are always fail videos on YouTube (will YouTube still exist when I’m grown up? *slaps herself before the panicky feeling takes a hold of her heart*). I’m not the kind of person who can sit in one seat for 3 hours and type away at a computer without getting butterflies in her stomach and needing to walk around stretching her legs as if she were part of the Ministry of Silly Walks on Monty Python. In medecine, you’ve got the type-cases that you learn about in medical school, but as soon as you get into the real world everything is very different (I’ve heard, I unfortunately haven’t mastered time travel yet): no two people are the same, which means that no two needs  are the same and by association no two cases are identical. Can you imagine? The excitement of waking up each day and knowing that you’re going to accomplish something new and be confronted to something that you may never have encountered before? It’s kind of like pizza: there’s an infinite amount of possibilities that will always surprise and challenge (I consider a nutella pizza to be challenging) and will sometimes leave a bad taste in your mouth (try nutella and anchovies, then reap), but all in all the experiences are so interesting that nothing would make you regret them.

This is a list in progress, meaning that it’s not even close to done. It also means that when I go into an interview and someone asks me ‘why’ I want to be a doctor, I can remember this article and spit out a drastically different version of it. Because there is no way in hell that I’m telling my examiner that I want to be a doctor because with the money I make off of it, I could buy a solar powered unicorn tracker.

Live long and prosper \V/
Yours sincerely,
The Mostly Confused Teenager.

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Time Is Running Out

Well, not really. I mean time can’t actually run anywhere, nor can it suddenly die from a cookie overdose (sh*t happens), but you get the point. At the start of a new school year, I realized that I’m a junior, which means that at the current moment in time, I have less than two years before I go off to University and leave my home forever. And frankly, the thought of moving on with my life scares me a whole lot.

When I was a little girl, I had no concept of time. Some people, namely my mother, would argue that I still don’t, but it has come to my attention how much my appreciation of the timey-wimey wibbly-wobbly stuff has changed (DOCTOR WHO REFERENCE). At the age of six or seven I had no fixed timetable, no calendar to look at and remind myself that I had an orthodontist appointment the day before which I missed (Oops, oh well. *doesn’t care*). School was school, and it went on until my mom told me it was time for vacation and that I’d only come back in two weeks. I never knew that my last day of 1st grade was the last day, I only knew when I didn’t have to get up too early for my organism to handle the next day. Summer vacation was eternity, each day stretching out with limitless possibility, succeeding the last with equal importance. My mother’s birthday (the 22nd of August) which now seems abominably close to the end was just a random event in the long fabric of vacation. One day, it was time to go back to the world of books and number two pencils, and that transition was made without question. I was not in control.

As I got older, time started speeding up. I knew when school started and when it ended. When vacations came around I always looked forward to the first day of lying around in bed in a cocoon of warmth and coziness with glee, wishing the end would never arrive. During the summer I kept a conscious eye on the date at all times, measuring out the time I had left. Heck, I probably spend more time worrying about what things will be like when something ends than enjoying it while it happens.

Even though they have been filled with quite interminable math and latin classes, the last two years have flown by. On the first day of school you think; “Oh man this year is going to be soooo long, I don’t know how I’ll ever survive the boredom of lessons everyday. Better warn my unicorn to be ready each afternoon so that I can at least ride home in style”. And then, BAM, before you know it, you’re laughing and crying on the last day, swearing eternal friendship and wishing fervently that you were still the awkward new kid (although let’s face it, you still are and will always be, the awkward new kid).

This teenager has one terrifying question on her mind at the moment: if time has sped up so much in the past few years, where will things be at in, say, ten? Will a month then be equal to a day now? Does time keep speeding up until you’re whizzing around at the speed of a deranged giraffe? I’ll admit, I’m scared of what will happen. I guess that it’s important for me to remember that change can be good and that holding onto the past is not always the right path of action to take. Whatever metaphorical deer rush into my headlights, I’ll make sure that they’re all right in the end.

Live long and prosper \V/

Yours sincerely,

The Mostly Confused Teenager.