We all have stories about how we came to be doctors … but have we ever stopped to consider that we may be doctors by design? That our path may be prepared for us and that there is a plan for us that unfolds, sometimes in spite of our ‘selves’ rather than because of us?
We are so used to telling the stories of our lives as if they happened somehow by accident, by coincidence, that we planned them, or that we somehow had control over anything that happened … but I for one cannot say that any of that is true.
I was born to be a doctor
I was born to parents who were both doctors, so you could say it was in my genes or that I was destined to become a doctor. But I decided I did not want to be a doctor. I grew up in a country town and saw how hard my parents worked, how much effort they put into work and how they then felt entitled to seek reward at the end of the day for all that hard work, and how that affected their relationships with all of us. And I decided it was not for me.
My father was a rural General Practitioner, back in the day when GPs performed surgery, gave anaesthetics, delivered babies, set broken bones and whatever else was needed, as there was no-one else around. Even when he was not on call, my father was on call. We never went on family holidays, because whenever there was the opportunity to do so, one of his patients was just about to give birth, or had just given birth, and he wanted to be there for them. So we stayed in this small country town, year after year, with occasional weekends away. The only time when we left for any length of time was to go to India to visit his family, where we stayed in a different kind of country town, with a lot more people and food!
My mother was also a doctor, but she took eight years off to raise four children, so when she went back to work, my father would always remind her that he was the better doctor. He would come home from work and put his feet up and read the paper, while she cooked us all a gourmet dinner each night, did all the chores on the weekend, and generally showed me how undesirable it was to be a working woman with a young family. I was outraged by the unfairness of it all.
As the eldest child, I took on a lot of the burden of this situation, did household chores from a young age, and helped to care for my younger siblings. I also tried to intervene in the alcohol-related arguments in the evenings, when unexpressed tensions from the day came out in unpleasant ways.
I vowed I would never become a doctor
I vowed I would never become a doctor and had my heart set on learning languages, becoming a diplomat and travelling the world. Yet, when the time came to fill in my preferences, I found myself putting Medicine at the top of my list. I told myself and my siblings that one of us would have to do Medicine, and it may as well be me. This was my first indication that there may be something moving me that was greater than ‘me’.
My parents were willing to fund my degree if I studied Medicine, but not if I ‘dabbled’ in the Arts. So I went to uni with the idea that if I failed Medicine, I would be able to stay on and study Arts instead. I passed the first year in spite of myself, on a minimal amount of attendance and study, and my prior learning at school stood me in good stead.
One year down, five to go.
In those days, we studied at uni for three pre-clinical years before they let us loose on the unsuspecting public in hospitals. Each year found me still enrolled in Medicine, but not inspired, until we came to the clinical years, which I actually loved, especially Surgery. And when I discovered Ophthalmology, I realised I had found my calling in life.
We say that Medicine is a calling, but What calls us?
Looking back, I see that I was completely supported to get to this point, where I knew what I was to do with my life. I sometimes wonder how I made it through those first few years, but can certainly see that if it were solely up to ‘me’, I may not be a doctor today.
There are many people who want to be doctors, but not everyone makes it. Not because they are not smart enough, or don’t work hard enough. So why do some make it and not others?
The only conclusion I can come to is that I am a doctor by design. I am not a doctor because of myself or for myself, but for my patients, my community, and for the world. And that design is not one that ‘I’ have chosen, but one that I have surrendered to and embraced.
Having spent my younger years as a sceptic, a cynic, and agnostic, I now know there is more to life than me as only human, more than me and my brain, more than me and my opinion, my desires, my anything.
I am planned
I am planned. And I am part of a Plan. That Plan is something greater than me, and there is a Plan for all of us. Call it what you like, be it God, the Divine, the Universe, The All, but we are moved by a greater hand. A hand that moves us all.
We are held with such deep love and care, by beings who know us more than we care to know ourselves. Who love us more than we love ourselves. Who know what is true for us and support us through life to live the design we were designed to live.
If we take a moment to reflect on our lives thus far, we may come to realise that we are doctors, not just because our parents were or wanted us to be, not just by hard work, or even by our own hand, but by design. There are watershed moments in life, that can go one way or the other, and by design, we are moved in a certain direction, sometimes despite ourselves and what we may think we want.
