What DIDN'T You Want to Be When You Grew Up?

What road did you take instead?

Unoccupied hospital room/bed. Photo by Martha Dominguez de Gouveia on Unsplash.

I don't want to sell anything, buy anything, or process anything as a career. I don't want to sell anything bought or processed, or buy anything sold or processed, or process anything sold, bought, or processed, or repair anything sold, bought, or processed. –Lloyd, Say Anything

What did you want to be when you grew up? And what roads did you end up not taking?

For most of my childhood, until 10th grade, I wanted to be a doctor. For all the normal reasons I think people want to become doctors: I wanted to help people (desire to serve). It was prestigious (desire for recognition). It paid well (desire for security). I knew a lot of doctors growing up, and they were nice people (role models).

But in the 10th grade I suddenly realized I didn't want to become a doctor.

No More Hospitals, Please

"Going to hospital is rather like going to an alien planet." –Quentin Blake

My dad injured his back at work when I was very little, and endured a bunch of surgeries and other treatments to attempt to put him back together.

And then my brother was born, with Down's Syndrome and a congenital heart defect.

So between them, there were a lot of surgeries, a lot of tests, a lot of procedures, a lot of check-ups. Which meant, for Mom and me, a lot of time in hospital rooms and waiting areas, and in doctor's offices, clinics, rehab centers, and just about every other medical establishment you can think of.

I don't remember what the specific trigger was, that 10th-grade year, that made me wake up to the fact — but all of a sudden I was certain that medicine wasn't the career for me, because I couldn't imagine spending one minute more than I absolutely had to in the white, echoing, antiseptic, fluorescent-lit halls of a hospital. Any hospital.

The idea made me... (ahem)... sick.

And Yet Grateful

I'm grateful for that realization at age 15. Most days, I don't regret my choice. I figured out there are lots of ways to serve people that don't involve suiting up in scrubs or a white jacket, and face pain and disease and death every day.

I admire those who do it, though, and am so grateful for all the medical professionals who've helped my family over the years. And for all of you who’ve continued to be of service during the COVID crisis and since.

Thank you for braving the halls of medicine and serving the rest of us in our times of need.