You want to know what it feels like to be a doctor?
I want to know what it feels like not to be.
There has never been a time that I wasn't a doctor. There are things that one strives towards and things that reside in ones bosom before the act of becoming has yet occurred. This has been my birthright. I could no more have chosen a profession than I could my gender, my parents.
That is not to say that my future was carved in stone. I suffered as did my brethren through self imposed asceticism, my head buried in text, my eyes watering, my intellect at times crying for mercy. I did this not out of want or love, but more of unconscious habit. Buried in the perverse coding of my DNA was a migration pattern, a way forward.
Graduating medical school, finishing residency was less about reaching the tip or peak of the mountain and more growing comfortably into the shoes that I had worn since childhood. I had matured.
And being a doctor, being a doctor is neither a hobby nor a profession. It is who I am. It is complicated. On occasion filled with terror and regret, fatigue and fear. Triumphant at times, and downright disappointing others. Like so much of life, emotions mix and homogenize. Rough edges become smooth.
A blessing and a curse.
A privilege.
All of these.
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