Existential crisis

One of my secondary applications asks, "If you couldn’t be a health professional, what occupation would you choose?" Simple enough, right? Wrong!

It derailed my entire afternoon.

I got to thinking about all the other careers I thought would be fun and cool and how medicine sucks the life out of you with its years of training and stress. And although I could do a lot with an MD even if I didn't end up working in a hospital or similar capacity, I couldn't figure out if the whole MD thing was worth it.

Then I stepped away from the romanticized view of my life, thought about it logically, and looked for themes within all these jobs.

Here's the deal. I love working with people. I love science. I love working within a group. And I love doing something that improves someone else's life. The problem with these criteria is that they can be applied to jobs that have nothing to do with medicine. And that's where the existential crisis comes into play.

But when I really think about it and stop considering escapist thoughts, medicine fits quite well with everything. No matter what job I decide to pursue, I will be busting my butt for the next 10+ years if I want the level of success I hope for. So I may as well be doing something I've been dreaming about since high school, the only thing that truly fulfills me, and stop being a wuss about making a commitment. Because ultimately that is what is causing all this fear.

And here's another question from this application that I just can't figure out an answer to: "What is your most prized possession?"

I can write a killer essay about moral dilemmas, being humbled, or overcoming a challenge, but for the life of me I just cannot think of a prized possession. Honestly, if my house was burning down, there is nothing I would run inside to rescue. Can I just say that I'm a minimalist?

And on a completely unrelated note, late late Monday night I was sitting on the couch watching "The Big Bang Theory" when I heard what sounded like a rabid dog attacking something that squeeled very loudly just outside my window. A normal person would go outside to chase it away. I ran upstairs and climbed into my roommate's bed. Yup, I'm fearless.

It turns out a mountain lion had eaten a neighborhood cat and was killed two blocks away by the animal control people because it had no fear of humans. So maybe it's a good thing I have an irrational fear of wildlife.