“I’ll live a better life. One that’s more organized, more socially-involving, more self-enriching .I want a life that’s more.. ME.”
I held on to this view since my first day of college. Deny it or not, but being in here starts your own free, minimally-controlled life. Here is when you get to know more about yourself, what you want, how you interact with people, how you manage yourself. I want to start my college life responsibly, with minimal regrets but truckloads of lifetime learning.
Wanting to be a better person, I started building the me that everyone will and should know in my adult life. Past mistakes are taken as lessons and I turned out to be quite a slave driver to myself. I fought pain and fatigue for I feared that when it gets all too consuming, I’d let go and lose everything I’ve tried hard to put up. I pushed myself to the limit - higher grades, better performance, greater confidence, less distractions, more and lasting acquaintances. Even physical improvement came to consideration.
And I proved myself victorious. Majority of my goals were achieved. I wanted to prove I could manage myself, and I did. I went home contented, knowing that I could give my family an achievement they would be proud of. My academics, my lifelong friends, my focus on work - I came, I aimed for and I conquered them. I told myself I could not wish for more. But I was wrong...
It seems I never would be contented with myself. More often than not, I wonder why things are such and think of ways they could be more advantageous. I am always at the perspective of, “What could I do to make it better?” On the one hand, sometimes this attitude has led to my own pain. I am easily inspired by things I see and feel the urge to be, as I have said, a better person than I am of the moment. You may think I am a monster, and I will agree. Even I scare myself at times.
People have asked if I would be taking Medicine in the near future. I would answer, “Ipapasa ko muna po and Pharmacy,” for it is the most logical reply. But that was the lesser reason. Truth is, I am afraid to face the eventual reality.
Don’t get me wrong, it is my ultimate goal to become a doctor. A great one! But my fear of not being deserving of it gets to me. I have permitted my drive for ‘self-perfection’ to get overboard. But when the idea comes to Medicine, not even my greatest effort seem to matter. This is one thing I still am wary about. Why? Because I don’t want to settle for the norm. I want to make a difference.
I am compelled to move by Patch Adams, a movie our class had watched during our recent meetings. My phrasing of words are not good enough to describe my feelings upon seeing it, but I knew my desire to become a doctor had been strengthened. The portrayal of character is the exact person I would aspire to be.
If and when God permits, I want to touch a patient’s life not because I am part of the medical profession whom the person approached and asked help from. I want to be his friend, to get deeper to him, to know more than just his physiological condition and vital signs. His name, his thoughts, the part of his life he would willingly share with me. I will listen and understand for I am his comrade. My greatest joy would be for the person to look back and remember that in the respected medical career, there was one who made him feel far better than any prescribed drug’s action would do.
I want my present to be a preparation to my future. That was why I set the standards. In the end, the difference I would make to a person’s life is the defining moment of mine .My only regret was that I started too late. It should have been earlier. Probably by now, I am half improved.
All this time I kept thinking, maybe there is such a word as ‘betterer’, and maybe if I was that, then I could proceed to being ‘gooder’ and eventually, ‘bester’. But for now and for once, I would acknowledge the pain. For the moment I would stop being a self-made superhero. For now, I would be me - still in the making.
