For an eight-year-old girl who clearly remembered her mom’s silhouette illuminated by the
hot afternoon rays of sunlight slipping through the concave window in the living room of her
grandma’s house, teaching her the Philippine national anthem, taking time to learn it, singing
it without thinking, learning the Canadian anthem in French was a different topic.
Now the eight-year-old girl is merely a part of me, of who I was. What I thought then
encompassed eight-year-old thoughts like playing, finishing school work and being a baby. I
guess, however, these are thoughts that haven’t left me fully; I still would love to play-not
with dolls …show more content…
As the jumbled possibilities pestered me at 14, realizing I enjoy Law, Accounting and
Science did not help with organizing my scrambled thoughts. As a 16-year-old girl currently
typing with numbing fingers, one thing I cannot clearly remember is how I came to realize I
want to become a doctor. If there’s anything else aside from wanting to wear a white lab coat
that persistently urged me to wake up one time and claim “I’ll be a doctor!”, I don’t
remember. But as life as unpredictable as my friends actually enjoying the crazy combination
of tuna and peanut butter in a sandwich I proudly claim is a good idea, my grounds are shaky
once again.
The promise -of being able to help those in need who couldn’t afford to tend to them-that
becoming a doctor presents is luring, but the process to get there is the question in motion.
It’s not the 10 years, it’s not the threat of build up of eye bags, it’s the unimaginable
measures I have to take to get there, the sacrifice, and by sacrifice I don’t mean my time,