Everyone who goes into medicine, at least to my knowledge, gets asked the question, "Why do you want to be a doctor?"
I thought that I knew the answer to that. Like others in my situation, my old answer was mired in a compulsion to help those in need.
I asked myself that question the other day, and I faltered. I sifted through the standby reasons, but those didn't hold any more water now than they did back then.
Most people want to help others. Most people want to treat those who are ill. Parents, friends, nurses, first-responders, and so on. Why be a doctor? Why put yourself through the process? Although I'm sure they exist, I'm unaware of any career path that forces you to migrate your whole family, at least twice, but sometimes more, just so you can be a part of system that's as demanding as it is disorganized. It also doesn't help that the majority of my colleagues have come from very privileged backgrounds, where the real world is a distant planet. I could go on.
So, why do this to myself? It wasn't until the last few years that I began to understand.
I work with residents and medical students. I think, through them, I may have settled on an answer that makes sense to me. I'll try to put it into words on my next post.
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