First of, Ill have all of you know that Im aware its a bad idea.
For some reason, that is midly inexplicable, bloggers cant really talk about whats bad about work.
You can go on about specifics: a horrible boss ( i have), office gossip, then-she-said-i-said-and-then-she-said-in-the-toilet-during-lunch, the bad lunch in canteen...all anecdoctal fodder for the funny, insightful, and down-right sympathy seeking opinions.
But to say, like im about to, that all is not well with the REASON why you work...that is just bending it a bit right?
Well people, I have no choice.
Im a doctor, and i hate it.
And whats worse, people dont expect me to. And this is not just members of my family and friends and legions of the but-we-were-so-proud-when-you-finished-medical-school gamut...its everyone, my colleagues, my patients, the old lady that plaits my hair.....(eyin doctor ma n try sha.......)...loose translation...I think you are superhuman, and if i had the chance i would want my daughter to be like you.....
Because of this i have been blackmailed I guess into ignoring the nagging need to scream at myself and what I do.
I chose to be a doctor because I wanted to PERSIST and INSIST in my naïve bubble gum view of the world…you know, one that needed saving from Humans, and would ironically also be saved by Humania. The wall of a dam, behind which The Humanity River raged, which had sprung a finger-sized leak, and could be salvaged by someone just plugging up the hole with his hand.
When one gets tired, another takes his place. So the Brother Love thing goes like
“ Hey man, whats happening?”
“Nothing Brother man, ( as he shakes off some of the mist from standing under the freaking dam off his face) “just coming from doing my time at the dam you know…”
“Oh that’s good brother, I’m just off there for some time too, that wall is not going to break, not on my own watch”….
“well its alright then”
“peace and love”
P.S: I know these two sound like are two badly written hippie / black consciousness-movement/ ‘70’s Christian evangelists characters
But can you just ignore that and get on with reading the point of the story?
So there I was doing my time at THE WALL, and as we were taught in med school ad nauseaum, medicine is a calling*….(* for the brave, noble, gifted, ) then I realized while practicing that not only am I none of these things, but that I’m tired of pretending to be, so that the dam wall (pronounce it again) might fall one day anyway, and perhaps damming it up was not the brightest plan anyway.
Now before I come across as a just mildly exhausted noble (see above) person who had been doing right, let me tell you this… I was never really converted anyway. I just hoped I guess that by plugging on, epiphany would find me, then I just might discover the why, when, or how to do my bit for the world dam, dam world, River river.
I should probably get out of the way, and let the true disciples get in. The ones who will not self-doubt as much as I do, who will work on spite of obstacles like broken needles, fake drugs, unpaid bills, no health insurance, poor mothers, terminal illnesses and believe that there is a point to all this, and there is a plan.
You know….crazy people….or Aliens.
Or evangelists, or Black consciousness movement people…..
Or actually, anybody stronger then me.
