One day, I woke up and decided that I wanted to take the USMLE. Factors that contributed to that decision were the conversation I had with my sister, my persistent low back pain which was job-related, and undesirable patients I got at that time (like pooping, cussing, and demanding patients). So, I surfed amazon.com and ordered the USMLE reviewers. I called friends who were in the process of reviewing for the exam. I facebooked (who would even think I could use this as a verb and get away with it in the same way that you could get away with the word "googled") colleagues and asked for their tips. I was excited. And then reality hit me when I started reading the reviewers and taking the sample exams. Step 1 covered basic sciences that I have long buried in the recesses of my mind. Unearthing biochemistry, pharmacology, histology, and who knows what, was akin to resurrecting Tutankhamun from the grave. I know I can, but the question was, do I really want to? I realized that I was beginning to hibernate from my family, from my work and from life itself in order to make room for this bold endeavor. Then the huge question hit me. Was this really what I wanted? The answer came while I was running with my 10-year-old daughter who was biking. It was an interesting conversation.
I asked her, "Is it okay if your daddy and I will become doctors again here?".
She vehemently said no. That caught me by surprise.
"Why not?," I asked.
"Because, then we won't get to see anymore. We hardly saw you in the Philippines when you were both doctors."
It was true. The times when the kids were not at school, they were at home with the nannies. My husband's time with them was limited to that one hour of traffic when he drove them to school. I think this was the only blessing that traffic in the Philippines brought. Although I heard that it made saints out of sinners because it made them pray especially when they were getting late for an appointment. And I can also blame traffic for our lack of time for the kids. We spent more time on the road than in the house. Whatever the reason, I have to admit that my daughter was right. We spent more time together as a family here in the US than in the Philippines.
So when I got home and looked at the reviewers again, it did not look as exciting as I initially thought. And when I got to the serious business of highlighting the material, I felt something very wrong deep within me. I could not put a finger to it but I knew I was not at peace. So I carefully arranged my desk and stacked the books up the shelf. I had a feeling that I may just need those books in the future, but for now, taking and passing the USMLE is not on my list of agenda.
When I got my first article on Livestrong.com published, (to date, the post had been updated and replaced by a newer post from a different author) I knew I was back on track. The pull to become a full-pledged writer is just too strong to resist. There is so much to learn about the art and craft of writing. My medical career ate a huge part of my life in the past. And now, that I have rediscovered my first love - writing - I don't want my MD degree to get in the way again. It reminded me of that man who found an unusually fine pearl and sold everything that he had and went back to buy that pearl.
And whenever I see silver-haired doctors still doing on-calls and rounds in the hospitals even on a Sunday, the desire to reclaim my MD degree just melts down. The MD head just pops up every now and then when I get pooping, cussing and demanding patients. But then again, when my day is over, I leave the patients in the hospital, go home to my family and live my other life -- cook, bake, tend my potted herb garden, sew, write, run, bike, read ...the list just goes on. I didn't have to "bring" home those patients with their diagnosis, treatment plans, emergency referrals, and what-have-yous.
