Sunday, August 26, 2007

I'm this close to breaking

icantstandsittingonmyassalldaylongthisistotalbullshitfuckthecitricacidcycleicantbelievetheresgoingtobeanotheryearofthistorturethisallconsuminghellfirehastakenovermylifeiamnolongerahumanbeingiamaleakyreservoirofuselessknowledgeanduninterestingfactsiamatestingrobotonthebrinkofbeingobsleteomgwtfbbqeatmyshortskthxbye

Thursday, August 16, 2007

My First Post as Medical Student

This is possibly the hardest thing I have ever attempted to do. But then again, I guess that probably says something about the things I've done so far.

It's a little difficult imagining myself as a doctor. Not because I can't see myself becoming one, but because there are, in general, as many different types of doctors as there are patients out there. You have the research doctors who want to advance the field of medicine. You have entrepreneurial doctors who want to build a successful practice and retire with money and social status, two things that, without fail, will always come hand-in-hand. You have doctors who want to save AIDS babies in Botswana, and you have doctors who are doctors because their fathers and mothers were doctors and so their sons and daughters can become doctors. So in the end, by saying "I'm going to be a doctor", we're often making a more generalized statement than we would like.

Specialties don't matter so much in my opinion, they're just technicalities. You're trained to treat patients with heart disease rather than patients with cancer. HIV rather than Bell's Palsy. Syringes versus scalpels. They're all just details to bog you down, sections to be skipped over in the job description, bullet points under a single heading.

Because when the shit hits the fan, will your excuse really be "Sorry, I'm not board-certified for that."?

I don't want to ever be known as Dr. Koon. That's not to say that people wouldn't be able to address me by that title, but I would never want people to refer to me simply by my profession. It's entirely too one-dimensional.

Scenario #1: Some Random Party

Guy #1: Hey, who's that guy camping the keg and drinking all the beer?
Girl #2: Oh, that's Dr. Koon. He's always doing that.
Guy #1: Man, what a douche...

Scenario #2: Same Party

Guy #1: Hey, who's that guy camping the keg and drinking all the beer?
Girl #2: Oh, that's Peter. He drinks like a whale.
Guy #1: Haha, that's awesome.

I've often considered telling people in the future that my profession is something other than that of a physician. After all, there are so many preconceived notions regarding the profession, it really wouldn't give people a chance to know me as, well, me. Not that there's really too much about me worthy of great interest, but what little there is, I'd rather not mask with stereotypes. One of the things I'd like to tell people 4-5 years from now is that I'm a failed writer.

Announcing yourself to be a failed writer is at once something that is both noble and pathetic. It's noble because writing itself is a noble task. In writing, you must give away a part of yourself. You must slice yourself open and in a sense, bleed the words into the paper. It's not something that everyone has the courage to do, and because writers often willingly turn themselves inside out for the benefit of their readers, I do believe that even the most mediocre attempt is something that is notably noble.

Failed writing is also pathetic for much of the same reason. Writers are people who think themselves important enough to have their thoughts put down in ink. They believe that the things they have to say are so brilliantly clever and profoundly original that all others should be subjected to their views as well. The fact that they are wrong in this is often a source of inscrutable frustration.