Love is life. Loving is living. Considering this, I’ve spent my life spreading good will. I want my living to propagate this purest quality of the human condition. I love the practice of medicine, and want my practice to be most valuable to mankind.
I suffer from obsessive-compulsive disorder, but my mind is far more obsessive. Visiting my native impoverished countries exposed me to cruelties that seldom stop within my mind’s eye. I’ve seen children without eyes or unburnt skin, and mothers without homes. Yet none were without love. I saw a mother, cradling her unfortunate child, left no option but to beg. Her voice still rings, begging for 15 years. She never asked me for a cent. Her echoing words thanked God for her beautiful son, and begged Him over and over to will the boy happy and kind. Her mispronunciations from her “laborer” accent still tear at my mental fibre; she wasn’t only poor and maimed, but uneducated. I yell to interrupt the flashbacks.
I cried later. I hated the world. Then I self-placated by reasoning the world was indifferent. Indifference fostered frustration. Indifference was not a stable state. The more I tried accepting reality, the stronger entropy worked against acceptance. My only peace came from medicine. I couldn’t help them, but how many more would the catalyst experience lead me to save? Seeing them cemented my drive more than anything; Everyday includes MCAT studies to secure an MD opportunity. I will work for Doctors Without Borders.