Monday

To be or not to be, that is the question.

"Gusto ko ba talaga mag-Med?" This question has been haunting me for the past few weeks. Well actually, the past few months. I've discussed this issue countless times already with peers and friends, but I can't seem to figure out what I really want, and it's annoying how things around me brings up that topic of uncertainty.  Where was the old me that was so sure about going to Med school? Where was the Angelo who told countless others that he couldn't imagine not being a doctor in the future? Was it all a facade? Some default reply to the question "What are you going to be when you grow up?"? How does one even know that his/her path was paved by his/her own decisions and not the decisions of others? How about you? Are you sure that what you are doing is a product of what you want or something given to you by your friends or your family? 

How I wish I didn't have indecisiveness as my weakness. Now, I'm not sure if it's just the anxiety and uncertainty that comes with senior year or it's my usual indecisive self. I'm guessing it's a mixture of both. Senior year always does this to the average population of college kids. Though some have already set their eyes on what they're going to do next,  some still wonder of the future, and what will follow after diplomas have been given. On the other hand, there are people, like me, who are confused and dumbfounded of which way they are going to head to: The one they had originally planned or the one way that just recently popped up?

 I have always been like this. I have always held the belief that life always presents a crossroads to different possibilities. Imagine me in the center of all these roads, sitting, seemingly lost with a bunch of whispers from all around me saying where I should go next. There are just too many voices that I can't even hear my own. I've recently come to the realization that I've been listening and following orders all my life that I've failed to recognize what I really want. In my family, we grew up thinking that we can only be of two things: a lawyer or a doctor. I guess we just got used to it. Both of our parents were known in their fields. Two great role models to look up to. Two great heroes that had to pass down their legacies onto their children. That was how I saw it. I don't know about my siblings, but that was how I saw the blueprint of things. Someone had to follow in their footsteps and tread the waters that they have crossed. My sister, who was the eldest, chose none of these paths, which left my brother and I the only "candidates". I don't know how my brother ended up choosing Law, but he certainly didn't like the life of a doctor. I, on the other hand, had a imaginary picture of what a doctor's life was, and this was because I was a frequent visitor in my mom's office. You go to your clinic, talk to your patients, place a stethoscope to their chests, write squiggly notes on a piece of paper, and then charge your patients for the service you have given them. I would even play in my mom's office and pretend to be a doctor. Whenever someone would enter, I would introduce myself as "Dr. Panelo" and then place the stethoscope on their chests. I was a kid. A naive, playful kid who didn't know what he was doing. I was just copying things that people do around me. How was I supposed to know that people were already labeling me e a "future doctor". And then came the reinforcements from my mom. She would often take me to different places (usually out of town) and at the end of every trip, she would always say these words "Anak, makakabalik ka rin dito someday pag naging doctor ka na." Whenever we went to the mall and I wanted something, she would always say that I can buy all the things that I wanted when I'm a doctor someday. And I guess I fell for it. I fell in love with the seemingly luxurious life of a doctor. I don't exactly remember that day when I said I wanted to be a doctor, but I can remember the countless times that I was introduced to people as the one who will follow my mom's footsteps. I guess I got used to the idea of becoming a doctor that during my elementary school years, I always gave my best in my Science subjects. I studied all the time. I had instilled in my life the joy of receiving good grades and dreaming of becoming part of the honors section someday. During these years, I had also discovered things that represented other possible paths for me. I recognized my love for drawing and painting. And then at Grade 6, I fell in love with writing. I had talks with my parents back then that I also wanted to go onto Fine Arts or Journalism. They would always reassure me that they would be supportive of what I wanted, but I always saw a tiny drop of sadness in my mother's eyes. So what I would was just shrug these thoughts off and just tell myself that drawing and writing were just hobbies of mine. In high school, I remained the same. I still gave my best in academics. I was a nerd. Also during these years was when I started to have an interest in photography. Again, I had another possibility appearing in my life. I could be a photographer, and go on to places. I could write about my travels and even draw things that I would see. But again, I shrug it off as just some childish fantasy and not something feasible for me. It was another hobby that I can do in my spare time (if spare time even exists in a doctor's life). When college admissions came into the picture, most of my friends who told me that they were set to becoming doctors, chose other paths, which left only a few of us signing up to schools which boasted themselves as the best in forming the best doctors. I felt betrayed back then. I was so engrossed with the idea that we were going to take up the journey to Med school together. But I slowly accepted that it was what they really wanted to do. When I graduated from high school, I still had the strong desire to become a doctor, but it wasn't because of the luxurious life that I had imagined a doctor would have (that was just a bonus), but it was because I wanted to help people. Sure, it sounds cliche and shit, but I really wanted to help people. I cringed at the sight of fresh wounds and my hands aren't good enough for simple slicing and peeling (ask the dead frogs, cats, and sharks that I had to practice on), but I wanted to aid others in alleviating their pain. I guess it's an instinct of mine to help others, but is that instinct enough for me to actually go to Med school?

Will that instinct of mine fuel my drive in accepting the so-called daily challenges a Med student, and an eventual doctor has to take? Am I even built for this? Am I even ready to live a life of beating the clock and studying endlessly? I know I have been doing this since I was young, but am I willing to continue living my life like a zombie wading through the halls and panic at the sight of low grades? I am sick of such life. I am sick of living this static pace of living. I want to be an explorer, a free spirit. A traveler with no exact destination. Just somebody who has a keen interest and a thirst for new horizons. And yet, I get to think of how I would do these things if I don't have a stable career. I have to be realistic. I can't just live off my parents' hard earned money for the rest of my life. I have to be practical. I have to choose what's practical. Actually, I have to rephrase that. Yes, becoming a doctor is practical, but I don't want to choose Medicine because it's the practical and sensible choice, but rather because I really want to pursue it.

I recently talked with my family about the thoughts I've been having. They were shocked when I uttered the words, "Eh pano kung ayaw ko na maging doctor?" Mom thought I was joking, but she slowly became serious. I had set off something in her system. Even my father and my brother were surprised. There was a good 3 minutes of awkward silence, when my dad broke the ice. "Eh di maging abogado ka." We laughed for a bit, but I could feel that they were waiting for me to continue. I told them the truth that I was unsure. I know my parents I have already heard this countless times, but it was a first time in a long time that they reacted with such seriousness. My brother asked me what I wanted, and as usual, I didn't have an answer. They told me to try it out first. If I wanted to continue being a photographer, I could do it while I was studying Medicine. My mom even reassured me that she had a friend who's a full time doctor, but gets to also showcase and sell his paintings. My dad continued by saying that while he's a lawyer, he also gets to exercise his passion for teaching by also being a professor. When I think about it, I guess it's healthier to live a life with a balanced state of work and play. When you're stressed with your profession, you could always escape to your hobbies to keep you sane. Though I have realized this, I still feel uncertain of what to do.

I guess this uncertainty stems from the fear I have of Med school and of following my mom's footsteps and living up to what she has done. My brother told me that it's normal to be unsure, especially when you're in your graduating year. He was also hesitant to take up Law that even during his first few months in law school, he was still not confident of his choice. It wasn't until the sem ended that he firmly believed in his decision. He told me that he knew what I felt, especially that he is also following the footsteps of our dad. There's always that pressure, but you just have to strive to be better than the original. He told me to just try it out like he did, and if I felt like I didn't belong there, then I would just man up and pursue other things. I liked how my brother laid it out for me. I guess I should just regain or  better yet, relearn my passion for Medicine. I have to get used to the fact that my determination would always be challenged in every way possible, especially in a hard ass and stressful career of being a doctor. I may see myself as someone who is weak-hearted for such a great obstacle such as Med school, but like many things in life, I would have to go through a process, and maybe in that process, armed with a relearned passion and a disciplined state of mind, a weak heart can become a heart filled with tenacity.



Sunday

Blogging vs. Blah-ging

Got this from thunderpopcola.tumblr.com. I just felt like sharing it to you guys. Enjoy!


My blogging philosophy tells me to only blog when I really have something to say and not because I want to say something…The mere advocacy here is to publish with quality, significance and relevance. Writing just one paragraph doesn’t mean it can’t be thought-provoking.
…If your goal in blogging is just so you can keep up with others or make sure you’re never out of sight, out of mind and to get even more following that what you already have, then the tendency is for you to keep on hitting that publish button with hellos, empty narratives, a few press materials and pretty much nothing else but blahs.
I know, I know. In reality, our everyday conversations are sometimes super random and gibberish - from the most superficial cravings, gossips and trivial themes. Who doesn’t like a light and casual chat? No one. But when you think about it, the most fun and/or fulfilling conversations - the ones that will truly stick out, are those where you learn new things or where you’re able to share what’s in your heart.
My point is simple. When I say, blog with substance, it doesn’t necessarily equate to overly complex and serious philosophical concepts, fancy words or profundity. The problem with blah-ging is, when you put it in a basic metaphor, is like feeding a person [your reader] with sweets, junk and other treats without any nutritional value, thus making the person either unhealthy or sick. Meanwhile, well-thought entries are similar to food items that are rich in vitamins and minerals that nourish the body. It’s mere elementary science.