MELANIE LIM:

While I was growing up, there were only two professions my father considered noteworthy--Medicine or Law. My father wanted to be a doctor but since he had to go to school at night and work during the day, he had to give up this dream. He became a lawyer instead. So the brainwashing began when we were young. But as you know, brainwashing has an opposite effect on people who do not like to be told what to do. Truth to tell, I did want to become a lawyer like my father and my brother but rebellion reared its ugly head.

While I was growing up, there were only two professions my father considered noteworthy—Medicine or Law. My father wanted to be a doctor but since he had to go to school at night and work during the day, he had to give up this dream. He became a lawyer instead.

So the brainwashing began when we were young. But as you know, brainwashing has an opposite effect on people who do not like to be told what to do. Truth to tell, I did want to become a lawyer like my father and my brother but rebellion reared its ugly head.

Now being a doctor was another thing. I couldn’t even bring myself to dissect the frog in Biology class and when I accidentally sliced my finger with a knife, for an entire year, just seeing the knife gave me the shivers.

I was slicing some fruits with a brand-new ceramic knife that was so sharp, I didn’t even feel it go through my finger. But when I saw the blood spurt out of my dangling finger, I suddenly felt faint.

I quickly bound my finger to stop the bleeding and to desperately re-attach my dangling finger. Afterwards, I realized I might not have aligned both parts too well but now, it was too late, I dared not open my Band-Aid.

Despite the aid of painkillers, I was in great pain the next 24 hours. So I finally decided to call my doctor-cousin. The first thing she said scared me to death, “Can someone drive you to the hospital?” And in a very small voice, I said, “Why?”

“Open up the Band-Aid, if your finger is all dark or has gone black, go to the Emergency Room immediately.” “What will they do to me there?” I shrieked. My cousin wisely ignored my query and calmly said, “I will tell them what to do. Just do as I tell you.”

In my terror, I said, “I need some time to do this. Can I put the phone down and call you back?” After saying my prayers, I slowly opened up my Band-Aid. To my extreme relief, my finger looked normal. I happily called my cousin back and said, “Everything looks good.”

The following day, I obediently show up at her clinic for a Tetanus shot. Turns out, I simply foolishly bound my wound too tight and too long, I was causing myself all the pain. “Why didn’t you just go to the hospital after you cut yourself?” my cousin asked. “Because I was scared of what they would do to me there.” I sheepishly told her.

And this is why I can’t be a doctor. The re-attachment, though, was successful.

My brother, in jest, calls me the Internet Doctor because I’m always trying to read up on diseases that interest me. For my sanity these days, though, my sister is seriously telling me to STOP GOOGLING. I have to agree. I didn’t sleep at all last night. For the first time in my life, I want those drugs to make me sleep.

In my 30s, I belatedly wanted to become a doctor. My father, as always, told me it was not too late. But, as always, I foolishly rebelled and disagreed. Now, I can’t help but wish I had become a doctor—although I’m not sure if being a doctor would have made me braver as a patient.