Becoming a doctor has been the single most influential factor of my decision-making lifetime.
I don’t actually remember when I decided to become a doctor, or if I ever actively decided. But it’s all I remember ever wanting to be. Besides the short-lived daydream of wanting to become an air hostess in order to be able to travel. Or the almost serious decision to become a fashion and jewelry designer.
I do however remember how I decided to become a surgeon. Around the age of 13, I’d been sent home with mumps from boarding school. My mum sent me to Aunty Lizzie, her friend who lived down the road and the only doctor I knew. Aunty took a short look at me and asked “And why did they send you home?! You’re fine, you should be in school”.
I don’t know how I ended up spending the day with her, but she must have asked, because I followed her to work. And I sat in a corner of her consulting room while she educated a young couple on their plight with their baby, who had just been born with Down’s syndrome.
When I grew up, I was going to become a paediatric surgeon, just like Aunty Lizzie.
You won’t believe how this story ends.
No, I didn’t become a paediatric surgeon. But I did become a general surgeon. Which is basically the same field, but for adults. I went on to study medicine in 2 foreign languages, on 3 different continents. And after several years of working as a surgeon, shortly before I took my board exams, I was conversing with my mum and we stumbled upon how I had decided on surgery.
Mum took a long look at me and said “But Aunty Lizzie isn’t a surgeon. She’s a pediatrician”
I am still speechless. And in awe. And impressed. That I could build my whole life and career around an accidental role model. One just as powerful as an intentional one.
And then it dawned on me, that just about anyone could unwittingly fall into that role, of an accidental role model.
Even me.
Lesson number x.
