I spoke to my parents after finishing my midnight shift tonight, and daddy told me of how my sister recently found a small, folded piece of paper that I wrote in as a child.
In it, were these words - "I want to be a doctor. I want to help people. I want to change the world."
...
I've come a long way since then.
This job that I have now - it's such a testimony of God's grace upon my life. I've been meaning to write that testimony out for a while now, but just never found the time to do so.
Second-priority job offers (for international students) were supposed to come out in August. I remember being on yet another God-led mission trip to Pos Gob for a government mobile clinic then, and feeling God whisper to me amidst the lack of connection to the outside world - "Frankston". I felt it over and over again that I was so sure I would get the job.
When the offers came out though, I didn't get the job.
It was hard, but I knew, that the same God that has been so faithful to me all my life, the One who never left my side through trial and pain, that same God would do exactly what He has promised me He would do.
And so I called Frankston. I called and I called, and often doubted myself - that my grades probably weren't impressive enough, this year was extra competitive for jobs due to the increasing number of medical students, my CV lacked medical research... I just was not good enough for this.
I started considering going home to Malaysia instead. And after all the time I spent at the Gombak Aboriginal Hospital in Malaysia, I was quite okay with the idea of it.
One day though, in the midst of worship, I felt God clearly say to me - "Your willingness to give this up is not making you any stronger, nor is it giving you more power over Me. In fact, it is your faith that will see this promise through to fruition."
Fast forward to October - still no job. My last placement of the year was at a rehab in Frankston. I did work hard then, but truly more than anything else, I am so thankful for God's favour upon my life. Having built good rapport with my consultant, he offered to help me with my references, and ended up writing me a really nice recommendation letter about the work I had been doing on the ward, my approachability, knowledge and dedication. My intern was so pleased with the help I had been that he too called medical workforce on my behalf. And to my delight, on the last week of placement, I was told that I had been moved to the top of the waiting list.
The next week was back-to-base week at uni, and the Monday was incidentally my birthday as well. B2B week was like a reunion, the whole cohort gathering together again and catching up, and one of the first few questions that would get asked usually is, "So where are you next year?" Needless to say, it was a pretty awful day for me having to explain over and over that I was still unemployed.
The next day, I found out that a friend of mine who had a spot at Frankston had received a job offer interstate where she wanted to go. This meant a spot had become vacant, and if what I was told was correct, it would be for me. We agreed to call workforce together the next day, and to my surprise, my employment wasn't as confirmed as I initially thought.
After a long and arduous wait, I decided to email workforce a day later to respectfully ask if the position had been filled.
Turns out, I didn't get the job.
I'll be honest, I went home and cried that day. I didn't know how much longer God wanted to keep me in limbo, I didn't know if I really heard Him right or not. I started to regret not calling anywhere else, for not trying a rural location instead.
I've always felt though, that my time in Melbourne wasn't up. Somehow, God still had(has) destiny in store for me right here in this season. I remember telling Papa, "If I go back, I'm gonna forget Melbourne for good and the promises I felt from You that are related to here. If I get to stay though, I'll know You still want me here, I'll stay in ministry because I'll know that's important to You."
Friday, I decided to take matters into my own hand and get an academic transcript. I would apply interstate, and call up all rural hospitals as well. I didn't want to just go on by faith anymore. Still, it was already evening, so any calls would have to be made Monday morning instead.
Come Monday morning, I couldn't do it. I couldn't bring myself to intentionally stray from what I knew God wanted for my life. I started asking for more prayer from those around me instead. I started writing declarations of the promises God has confirmed in my life. And, I made peace in my heart for what would happen if God didn't come through - I would go home to Malaysia, work hard and continue to chase my dreams of becoming a medical missionary. I love Malaysia anyways, life would be harder for sure, but I believed I would survive.
Wednesday, in my sister's apartment, with a clay mask on my face preventing much facial expression - the email came.
After months of waiting, I had finally been offered a job at this very hospital.
Two weeks before graduation, I was no longer unemployed.
God really did come through for me.
Wow. Just.. wow.
Some days I still can't believe it, that He's been so, so real and faithful to me, and that He walks every step of this journey holding my hand so tightly. Thank You Jesus for being so so good to me. You never fail to humble and amaze me with Your incredible grace. :)
...
Fast forward a month or so later, and here I am, lying in bed typing at 3.51am after an evening shift and FaceTime with my family back home.
Many days it still feels weird to see the Dr in front of my name on my ID or the computer system.
Ask any medical intern, we wear our titles on bills, bank details and applications with pride and an almost childish kind of joy. It's just cool, and it's been a long time coming too.
However, the title 'Dr' has also carried the most enormous weight upon our shoulders.
After at least three years of clinical placement and "I'll get the (real) doctor for you dear patient" , suddenly I find myself in the shoes of the "real doctor". It is now my responsibility to give this patient the best medical care possible, to listen, to know, to explain, to try and understand their perspective, to not judge and to respect them, the way I would want myself or a loved one treated.
Knowledge is no longer a mere discrepancy between a credit and an HD any longer, it provides the ability to pick up on something serious that would have been missed otherwise.
Good clinical skills are no longer just to impress an OSCE examiner, but to really understand the clues that a patient's body is giving us to help us treat them.
Offering a crying patient a tissue is not just a means of getting an extra mark with a simulated patient anymore, it's a mark of respect, heartfelt care and genuine concern for the wellbeing of a patient.
So, I'll say it now. Being a doctor is hard.
There are the days you feel you're doing a fabulous job - busting discharge summaries at the speed of near-lightning, getting those cannulas in, picking up the diastolic murmur on auscultation, having patients thank you for your excellent care... and then there are the days where people yell at you for the decisions your superiors made, where you miss one thing in the list of ten things you were told to do and it turned out to be important, where patients get angry for having to wait so long, days where you just feel so completely, extremely, entirely out of your depth to be trusted with this job of saving lives.
But.. it's a journey.
Every time I reach a point of wanting to break apart for whatever recent stressor in this job happened, I remind myself of that.
"But it's a journey. "
And as long as I keep moving forwards and learning from my mistakes, I'll get better.
And in the midst of my fears of inadequacy and struggles to stay afloat, I feel God hold me and say "Hey, hey baby girl.. you're doing just fine. Everything is going to be okay."
He's brought me this far hasn't He? :)
...
I'll live to fight another day.
I've gotta live up to the expectations of that child many years ago who scribbled on a piece of paper. I've got to make her dreams come true.
So, for now, good night to you, dear reader. :) I pray that you are able to make your dreams come true as well.
With much love,
Just.. dice :)
In it, were these words - "I want to be a doctor. I want to help people. I want to change the world."
...
I've come a long way since then.
This job that I have now - it's such a testimony of God's grace upon my life. I've been meaning to write that testimony out for a while now, but just never found the time to do so.
Second-priority job offers (for international students) were supposed to come out in August. I remember being on yet another God-led mission trip to Pos Gob for a government mobile clinic then, and feeling God whisper to me amidst the lack of connection to the outside world - "Frankston". I felt it over and over again that I was so sure I would get the job.
When the offers came out though, I didn't get the job.
It was hard, but I knew, that the same God that has been so faithful to me all my life, the One who never left my side through trial and pain, that same God would do exactly what He has promised me He would do.
And so I called Frankston. I called and I called, and often doubted myself - that my grades probably weren't impressive enough, this year was extra competitive for jobs due to the increasing number of medical students, my CV lacked medical research... I just was not good enough for this.
I started considering going home to Malaysia instead. And after all the time I spent at the Gombak Aboriginal Hospital in Malaysia, I was quite okay with the idea of it.
One day though, in the midst of worship, I felt God clearly say to me - "Your willingness to give this up is not making you any stronger, nor is it giving you more power over Me. In fact, it is your faith that will see this promise through to fruition."
Fast forward to October - still no job. My last placement of the year was at a rehab in Frankston. I did work hard then, but truly more than anything else, I am so thankful for God's favour upon my life. Having built good rapport with my consultant, he offered to help me with my references, and ended up writing me a really nice recommendation letter about the work I had been doing on the ward, my approachability, knowledge and dedication. My intern was so pleased with the help I had been that he too called medical workforce on my behalf. And to my delight, on the last week of placement, I was told that I had been moved to the top of the waiting list.
The next week was back-to-base week at uni, and the Monday was incidentally my birthday as well. B2B week was like a reunion, the whole cohort gathering together again and catching up, and one of the first few questions that would get asked usually is, "So where are you next year?" Needless to say, it was a pretty awful day for me having to explain over and over that I was still unemployed.
The next day, I found out that a friend of mine who had a spot at Frankston had received a job offer interstate where she wanted to go. This meant a spot had become vacant, and if what I was told was correct, it would be for me. We agreed to call workforce together the next day, and to my surprise, my employment wasn't as confirmed as I initially thought.
After a long and arduous wait, I decided to email workforce a day later to respectfully ask if the position had been filled.
Turns out, I didn't get the job.
I'll be honest, I went home and cried that day. I didn't know how much longer God wanted to keep me in limbo, I didn't know if I really heard Him right or not. I started to regret not calling anywhere else, for not trying a rural location instead.
I've always felt though, that my time in Melbourne wasn't up. Somehow, God still had(has) destiny in store for me right here in this season. I remember telling Papa, "If I go back, I'm gonna forget Melbourne for good and the promises I felt from You that are related to here. If I get to stay though, I'll know You still want me here, I'll stay in ministry because I'll know that's important to You."
Friday, I decided to take matters into my own hand and get an academic transcript. I would apply interstate, and call up all rural hospitals as well. I didn't want to just go on by faith anymore. Still, it was already evening, so any calls would have to be made Monday morning instead.
Come Monday morning, I couldn't do it. I couldn't bring myself to intentionally stray from what I knew God wanted for my life. I started asking for more prayer from those around me instead. I started writing declarations of the promises God has confirmed in my life. And, I made peace in my heart for what would happen if God didn't come through - I would go home to Malaysia, work hard and continue to chase my dreams of becoming a medical missionary. I love Malaysia anyways, life would be harder for sure, but I believed I would survive.
Wednesday, in my sister's apartment, with a clay mask on my face preventing much facial expression - the email came.
After months of waiting, I had finally been offered a job at this very hospital.
Two weeks before graduation, I was no longer unemployed.
God really did come through for me.
Wow. Just.. wow.
Some days I still can't believe it, that He's been so, so real and faithful to me, and that He walks every step of this journey holding my hand so tightly. Thank You Jesus for being so so good to me. You never fail to humble and amaze me with Your incredible grace. :)
...
Fast forward a month or so later, and here I am, lying in bed typing at 3.51am after an evening shift and FaceTime with my family back home.
Many days it still feels weird to see the Dr in front of my name on my ID or the computer system.
Ask any medical intern, we wear our titles on bills, bank details and applications with pride and an almost childish kind of joy. It's just cool, and it's been a long time coming too.
However, the title 'Dr' has also carried the most enormous weight upon our shoulders.
After at least three years of clinical placement and "I'll get the (real) doctor for you dear patient" , suddenly I find myself in the shoes of the "real doctor". It is now my responsibility to give this patient the best medical care possible, to listen, to know, to explain, to try and understand their perspective, to not judge and to respect them, the way I would want myself or a loved one treated.
Knowledge is no longer a mere discrepancy between a credit and an HD any longer, it provides the ability to pick up on something serious that would have been missed otherwise.
Good clinical skills are no longer just to impress an OSCE examiner, but to really understand the clues that a patient's body is giving us to help us treat them.
Offering a crying patient a tissue is not just a means of getting an extra mark with a simulated patient anymore, it's a mark of respect, heartfelt care and genuine concern for the wellbeing of a patient.
So, I'll say it now. Being a doctor is hard.
There are the days you feel you're doing a fabulous job - busting discharge summaries at the speed of near-lightning, getting those cannulas in, picking up the diastolic murmur on auscultation, having patients thank you for your excellent care... and then there are the days where people yell at you for the decisions your superiors made, where you miss one thing in the list of ten things you were told to do and it turned out to be important, where patients get angry for having to wait so long, days where you just feel so completely, extremely, entirely out of your depth to be trusted with this job of saving lives.
But.. it's a journey.
Every time I reach a point of wanting to break apart for whatever recent stressor in this job happened, I remind myself of that.
"But it's a journey. "
And as long as I keep moving forwards and learning from my mistakes, I'll get better.
And in the midst of my fears of inadequacy and struggles to stay afloat, I feel God hold me and say "Hey, hey baby girl.. you're doing just fine. Everything is going to be okay."
He's brought me this far hasn't He? :)
...
I'll live to fight another day.
I've gotta live up to the expectations of that child many years ago who scribbled on a piece of paper. I've got to make her dreams come true.
So, for now, good night to you, dear reader. :) I pray that you are able to make your dreams come true as well.
With much love,
Just.. dice :)
