When I Grow Up...

It's the question every kid is asked at some point: "What do you want to be when you grow up?"

While there was some variation in my answer at times, there was one thing I wanted to be more than anything else: a doctor.

I know you're laughing.  Everyone knows how much I've loathed the last 7 years as my husband has worked his tail off to become a doctor.  The irony is that, when I agreed to marry this amazing man who was bound for med school, I knew what I was getting myself into since my dad is a doctor and I grew up with a bit of an understanding of the realities of this honored profession.  I remember when my dad had to answer phone calls in the middle of the night, when he had to leave early in the morning to round at the hospital before going to the office, when he missed supper with us because he had to work late, and when he brought work home because the work never ended.  I remember the downsides.  (I also remember the upsides, like the donuts he brought home from the hospital after rounding on the weekends!)  But for years and years - until my senior year of high school when I finally got smart and realized that medicine was not for me - I wanted to be a doctor.  Because I wanted to be like my dad, who was smart and helpful and good at brushing off the dirt and putting on Band-Aids.

I never became a doctor.  I married one instead, and he's also smart and helpful and good at brushing off the dirt and putting on Band-Aids, and he's put in many many many hours to become that doctor.

I'm proud of Eli, like I'm proud of my dad, but let me say this: my goodness, am I ever thankful to Jesus for not leading me down the path to becoming a doctor!  Because, let's be honest, you have to be a little bit crazy to do this.  Or maybe a lot bit crazy.  There's the studying and the shadowing and the exams, the mental exhaustion and physical exhaustion and emotional exhaustion, the loss of family time and God time and exercise time and social time, the accrual of thousands upon thousands upon thousands of dollars of debt...  There is much to be sacrificed on the road to becoming a doctor.  Eli has said many times, "Anyone who just wants to make money would never do this.  There are way easier ways to make money than this."  Because you have to be crazy to do this!

There've been many times when I've talked about med school and used the pronoun "we", as in, "when we did med school in Chicago..." because WE were on this journey together from the very beginning and WE suffered and endured the long hours and nights apart and WE paid for Board exams and flights to interviews and WE picked up and moved to continue doing this journey together.  So yes, I like to say that "we" did med school (and now residency).  But whenever I say that, people are naturally confused and ask, "Oh, you were in med school too?" to which I reply first with a laugh, and then, "No, I'm smarter than that."  Because, again, you have to be crazy to do this!  (Of course, maybe I was crazy to marry a crazy who wanted to do this.  I guess this is really a story about two crazy people doing something crazy.)

All this is to say, when I was a kid and people asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, I would usually answer unequivocally, "a doctor", which I was reminded of when my mom recently gifted me a school project I did in elementary school:

"I Want To Be"

I want to be a doctor because I would be able to help people get well again.  I like to help people.  I would get this job if I went to high school and college.  I would have to get an M.D.  I would use a stethoscope, ottoscope, rubber hammer, Xray and hot water for making a cast.  I would get money and people don't die.  Sometimes doctors can't help people and they have to go to the hospital.  Sometimes they die and there are too many meetings.  I really want to be a doctor.

By Krista Clark

So there you have it.  But I never became a doctor because I decided I wanted to be a writer instead.  And thank goodness, because truer words have never been spoken about that profession: sometimes people die, and there are too many meetings.  Only a crazy person would sign up for that.