Posted 1:31 AM by Clementine

Change of Heart

When I was a kid until early college (thus the mom-you-forced-me-to-go-to-UST-pre-med-and-give-up-my-UPD-slot drama), I wanted to be a journalist. After which I planned to take up law. Sophomore year college, after reading Erich Segal's Doctors, I realized medicine was the field for me. I didn't know what residency to go for, though, but I had legal med in mind. Everyone kept telling me I'd do good in OB [Obstetrics] (I don't know why, but I suspect it's because of my being a big bitchy girl - they said I fit the OB's usual profile) so around the time I took the NMAT [Philippines National Medical Admission Test], I must have convinced myself it was the field for me. That was the start of my there's-no-greater-fulfillment-but-helping-mothers-deliver-their-angels dream.

And then a month ago, I took the OB module, and while I didn't really find it that difficult, I had a hard time staying awake in class. I even skipped a lot of lectures and lost the whole 5% allocated for short quizzes after them - and, please God no, I'm in the risk of taking the removals even if I passed all the major exams and did okay in the case discussions. Okay, arguably, I don't really attend lectures, be it on Respiratory or Ortho or Neuro modules because most of the time I just sleep through them. I actually learn more by reading, but if OB is going to be my field, I should have itched to go to class every darn morning right? But I didn't. All those partographs just left me bored comatose.

Now I think I've found my calling.

All my life---until recently anyway---I've been shying away from anything, for the lack of a better term, "girly." I admit that I'm the most girly girl in the field of medicine, but my friends from college would attest that I was such a dead-to-the-world kid back then. I didn't care about fashion and make-up and just wasted my dough and time on the Eraserheads. I had the biggest crush on Ely Buendia (frontman of the phenomenal Philippine band during the mid 90s, the Eraserheads) and Jessica Zafra. I thought of myself as a radical feminist, which may give you a clue why my mother didn't want me in the state university especially since a good friend went there ahead of me and mom thought I'd follow her footsteps (she became a prominent student leader there). I was going to be a doctor, I knew it, but I had legal med or maybe TCVS surgery in mind.

Senior year, my road forked with the guy who later became my biggest obsession---at that time I thought he was the love of my life. His mom's an OB [obstetrician], and as much as I don't want to admit it, that contributed to my OB dream. I fantasized about someday taking my residency under his mom, and she'd fall in love with me and want me for his son---badly. I had a drastic haircut, which turned out to be the best decision I've ever made in my whole life, kikay-wise. Tweezers started to become my new best friend, and though I was still a jeans-and-shirt girl, I knew I was becoming, well, girly.

But still, no pink furry soft things or giggling or elaborate display of emotions for me.

I still am dead-to-the-world and according to Gerry, a "bitch," until now. I still hide my true emotions in real life as much as I can. My friends would probably gag and find it unbelievable that I am Danielle Nicole. I wear pretty tops, low-rider jeans, and boots, sure, but emotionally, people still think of me as a rock with the coldest heart. Rhome has me on a pedestal because of this and because he doesn't read this blog. Actually, none of my friends, except Karolina and Gerry, know about my site---although recently, the man I truly, madly, deeply loved despite the insanity of our situation discovered this and raised hell because of the way my friends tried to comfort me---by convincing me that I'd find someone else who'd love me and that I deserve so much better, during that bleak moment in my life.

So what the hell is my point?

To cut that annoying flight of ideas, I've always thought I wouldn't be in pediatrics. I thought I wouldn't be able to endure the sight of screaming babies day in, day out. That I wouldn't last a day feigning joy and genuine affection and concern even if deep inside I really wanted to kill the baby in front of me.

But now, I'm in pedia module, and I'm enjoying it like hell. And this morning, while discussing Respiratory Distress Syndrome, I realized what I want to be: a neonatologist.

And trust me. The fact that our tutor always has gorgeous shoes doesn't have anything to do with my decision.

* * *
Several days after, I had another change of heart and I wanted to go into Surgery.

Oh well, I will decide after the boards---I have more than two years left anyway.