A Midsummer's Freetime

As I sit here in my Little Rock apartment, alone save for my cat, I can't help but think of the coming years. The summer will hold montage of mini-adventures interspersed with the seasonal occupation that I have chosen. However, the focus of my lunchtime musing has been more distant: how am I ever going to be a medical doctor? This has been my life's goal since a hospital visit almost 20 years ago. Medicine has been the only field in which I've worked, or even wanted to work. And yet, thinking years down my life's road, I am struck with the almost overwhelming fear that I will have a person's life in my hands. The decisions I make will determine, in a very direct way, the continuation of another's existence. At this point, that frightens me more than anything I've ever experienced. Academically, I know that people die, and that there are numerous injuries and diseases that are beyond the realm of modern medicine to fix. I know that, even as a fully licensed medical doctor, there are going to be circumstances where, after doing everything correctly, I still lose a patient. While these do inspire within me an undeniable disquiet, they do not truly terrify me; that I might, nay will, make a mistake that results in a death horrifies me. To believe that I could make it for any substantial length of time without even a single error is not reasonable. Eventually, one of these mistakes will most likely prove to be fatal. At this point, I do not know how I will face a family after failing their loved one. Perhaps by that point I will be a different person, one capable of rapid decision-making, and remorse-free living. But I doubt it. Most likely, I will deal with that particular situation with the knowledge that I did the best I could, and God is in control. Besides, I don't think I want to be a doctor like that; I want to give patients all the aid and comfort that is within my power.