Oh Simple Thing, Where Have You Gone?

Note: I feel this post may be a little different than my usual flare, and I need a little help from you, but I still tried to make it fun. Enjoy.

So, what are you going to do with your life? This question is (pun intended) unquestionably the bane of my existence. And much like herpes, it never goes away -- you think you may have beat it, but it always resurfaces, particularly in times of stress. Where are you going to college? Bucknell. What are you going to major in? Biology. Why? Cause science is awesome (And if you don't believe that, see the "Dead to Me" list). What are you going to do with that for a career? Medicine. What do you want to your residency in? Where do you want to go for it? Are you going to do a fellowship (less like Frodo and LOTR and more like additional years with crappy pay)? Where are you going to set up your practice? Private practice, group, or hospital? Therefore, I posit (oh yeah, I just posited something, stick that in your liberal arts pipe and smoke it), "Oh simple thing, where have you gone???". When did wanting to be a doctor become not enough? Where is the proverbial Valtrex to treat this question??

Why is it when stepping up to the counter of the medical Baskin Robbins, I feel like I keep choosing vanilla? I enviously look on at those who have not only chose the chocolate chip cookie dough of medical specialties but are also getting it in a waffle cone! MKS lives for the holes of the head in ENT. NP is going to take people to the bank diagnosing acne in dermatology. RD is making the life choice to stand next to lethal energy waves everyday for radiology. CS is dedicated to the senile and, well, the very senile in geriatrics. These people all have got their free mini-spoon taste and now are packing it down their throats by the scoop. Yet, I press my face against the glass of the freezer with the longing eyes of a fat, diabetic, lactose-intolerant 8 year old.

Now I come to the point of my frustration. The medicine gods have deemed that I must embark on the vision quest that is choosing a residency program beginning with choosing a field of medicine and ending with Match Day. (Or should I say Bid Day -- trust me, they are the same thing and I'll talk about the process at a different post, but I'm pretty sure the only difference is that there is just a less glitter and chanting involved with Match Day). Thus by some point in September (the earlier the better), I must choose a medical specialty, and I'm avoiding this commitment like MKS avoids....um, commitment? I hear the clock ticking in the background. I shouldn't say ticking -- its F**in POUNDING.

So, this is where you come into play. Make the decision for me. Its that plain and simple. I'm throwing myself upon the suggestions of you, my loyal readers. You may be asking yourself, "But WC, what's in it for me?" (cause I know I would be). If I actually follow your advice, I will provide you and your immediate family free care in the field I go into. Example, you have 10 kids, I do pediatrics, bring me all the inner ear infections you can for free. You get knocked up, I do OB/GYN, I rip the sucker out for free (assuming you don't care I have to stare at your bajingo at the same time). You drink enough to kill a small elephant (um, TW, I'm talking to you), I do GI, I'll hook you up with a new liver for free. However, odds are if you know me well enough, I'm probably going to hook you up for free anyways (and if you have to think whether or not this includes you, it probably means it does not).

I will provide you with a little guidance however (emphasis on little because I really want to see what you come up with). I hate surgery with the firey passion of a thousand suns burning on top of a nuclear explosion (enough said). No matter how hard I would try to relate so someone complaining about irregular vaginal bleeding, it is never going to happen. Finally, if you ask what I'm currently leaning towards, it would be pediatrics. However, as my debt accrues my desire to help people has become inversely proportional to the salary I hope to achieve. Is it better to be rich but miserable or poor (well, relatively doctor speaking poor) and happy?

So, take a moment, step back, analzye what you know about WC Anderson III and where you think I should fit in life. And help me once again find that oh so simple thing.