If you’re reading this, I hope you’re well. I hope you’re doing okay and that you’re happy one way or another. I, on the other hand, am okay. However, I’m a bit exhausted because I’ve been sleeping at almost 5:30 am (for the past two days, watching Twilight), and I’ve had to get up early for meetings.
I wanted Sundays to be my publication day, but I spent the last Sunday binge-watching The Rookie.
Let’s hope I hold myself accountable to publishing weekly (may procrastination not shame me).
When I was younger, whenever anyone asked me what I wanted to be, I always said, “I want to be a psychiatric doctor.” This is why I strongly believe that a child’s growing environment plays a huge role in how the child turns out. You see, I grew up living in the staff quarters of Psychiatric Hospital for more than 15 years of my life. My dad was a social worker in the hospital, and my mom was a nurse. I loved growing up there. I got to admire doctors up close. They carried themselves with grace, walking around in white coats, and even though they rarely had stethoscopes around their necks, I’d always put my mummy’s stethoscope around my neck to act like a doctor.
I’m not a doctor.
I wonder if I would’ve made it through med school, though. Not that I doubt my capability; if anything, I’m capable. However, I think there’s a chance that present-day Kome wouldn’t have enjoyed the rigorous journey it takes to become a medical professional.
I ended up studying biochemistry.
And I often wondered, if biochemistry was that difficult, what was studying to be a doctor like?
Biochemistry was never my choice, I practically settled for it. The year I wrote Jamb, the cut-off mark for medicine and surgery at my university was 74. I had 72. I cried my eyes out. I was hopeful that I’d get medicine because I was an indigene of the state university, but somehow, that year, they didn’t use that criterion. Some months later, still in hopes that I’d be given medicine, I logged onto my dashboard and saw that I’d been offered admission, but in biochemistry. Of course, my parents encouraged me to go, saying that I’d retry Jamb the next year and that it’d be good for me to be in the school environment. That was how I studied biochemistry. I rewrote the Jamb exam the next year, and Jamb jammed me.
In school, I reminded myself that no matter how difficult the course was, I was meant to be a medical student, so it must be easy and I must never fail.
I graduated as a biochemist.
A year after graduation, I had an opportunity to work at NAFDAC, but I declined because I had a job I enjoyed. My parents didn’t approve. They believe so much in working in a federal government organization, I think it’s because of the job security, but it wasn’t what I wanted, so I let the opportunity go.
It’s almost 3 years after graduation, and I’m neither a psychiatrist nor a biochemist.
I work in marketing.
I’m currently having the best time and I love that I get to explore as much as I want. I’d have never imagined a career path like this for myself.
Change your mind and change it again, because nothing’s permanent. Make as many mistakes as you can. That way, someday, when they ask what you want to be, you won’t have to guess; you’ll know because you are.
It might look like the time to make hard and fast decisions, but I’m learning never to be afraid to start over, try new things, and make mistakes because, in the end, when you’re old and grey, you want to be sure you made the right and best choices.
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