I’m supposed to have some sort of plan. Truth be told, I have no idea what the hell I’m supposed to do next. It’s as if I were fifteen once again, ticking off college courses because they seem fun, or because people I know have ticked off the same boxes, and hey, at least I wouldn’t be alone in the minefield. Actually, there’s a chance this might be worse, because then I had unbridled optimism.
It isn’t hopeless, though. I do recognize that I am incredibly fortunate to even have this as a problem, whereas there are other people who don’t have the privilege of education, much less a medical one. I am lucky because I don’t have to choose now, although delays may cost me more than I estimate them to. I am thankful that I have options.
Door number one is to go into residency. Unfortunately, I haven’t set my mind on an actual training program.
I don’t want to just go into training and end up regretting it later on, like I did with the Human Biology program. I want to choose a program that has the biggest chance of allowing me happiness. Behind this door should lie a career that balances intellectual challenges, financial rewards and an actual life.
Door number two is moonlighting. This has the most potential in my financial independence revolution, but I’m scared to handle a human life alone. Despite the Board of Medicine’s approval, I don’t think I’m ready. I don’t think I’m smart enough, and I don’t want to risk anyone’s life because there was something I didn’t know. Every doctor starts out this way, but I would really rather do it by increments. If it were just my life at stake, I’d be braver. But I wouldn’t knowingly risk someone else’s. That isn’t bravery, that’s just recklessness.
Door number three was the perfect option, but someone (gently) slammed it shut in my face. I wanted to enter the Department of Health’s Doctors to the Barrios program, so that I could use the two years to decide on and save up for residency. However, when we went to DOH, we were told that no walk-in applicants would be accepted this year, as all the slots were reserved for FG/Pinoy MD/DttB scholars. In all fairness, this is part of the terms of the scholarships for the aforementioned, so I do understand why they have dibs on the slots.
What I didn’t expect was my father suggesting that I try out for residency in Singapore or Australia. I don’t know how long they’ll be entertaining this idea, and I don’t want to get my hopes up, but I really, really want to study abroad. It’s infinitely better than my original plan of simply moving out to who knows where. But, who knows? People in this house get excited too much over too little.