I wrote this last year. It may well be one of the most honest journal entries I have ever done. Whether I still feel the same and my opinions on these facts, now… are inconsequential and a matter for another day:
A country requires many more doctors than there are people who have a calling to study for almost a decade and then work ungodly hours in a truly horrific setup.
And so you get the very sad fact that on medical campuses, a large percentage of students have half of their hearts elsewhere.
It is on medical campuses that you will find the largest conglomerate of potential actors, composers, lyricists, authors, statesmen, teachers, businessmen, psychologists, lawyers, beauticians, journalists and Olympic medallists.
Potential that will, ultimately, go to waste.
These young people, whether they admit it or not, would often much rather be elsewhere.
They are not called to be passionate medical professionals. No. Their calling is deeper and more painful than that. Their calling is to sever the bonds with their passions and walk – often blindly – into a profession of death, pain and sleeplessness. A profession that eventually becomes your life. A profession that has no exit.
Somebody needs to find the cure to AIDS. To Ebola. To cancer. To Huntington’s. Somebody needs to work in dirty, overcrowded hospitals. And those with the calling to do so… are simply not enough.