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WHY I BECAME
A DOCTOR
‘A Calling
Within
My Soul’
By Wendy B. Kang, MD, JD
Some intellectually meander onto the road to medicine. Oth- would use marijuana! Besides the ghastly possibility of being ar-
ers like me know from the dawning moments of consciousness rested for smoking pot, I did not want anything to cloud my
to take the only path in life: that of becoming a physician. Pre- mind nor obfuscate my path to medical school. My straight-as-
destination or a lucky chance? an-arrow approach was described by an aunt as a calling within
my soul.
While many young girls my age played with dolls, I doctored
my teddy bear with dressings and tender loving care. Even in As I approach my 35th medical school reunion, I muse upon
my rural Taiwanese village, I took care of my classmates. When all the cataclysmic changes in medicine. Bigger governmental
my American elementary school classmate had the wind knocked intrusions, more bureaucratic headaches, increasing quality as-
out of him by a large, stiff, red rubber ball, I undid his collar surance pink sheets to fill out, learning computer lingo, facing
button and laid him flat while sending another classmate to find constant threats of medical malpractice lawsuits from disgruntled
our teacher. There was no panic, no fear, merely instinct to do patients who demand unrealistic perfect care and absolutely no
what I thought needed to be done for Ricky’s sake. pain after surgeries, less pay while working harder as I become
older — what rational person would voluntarily pick this pot-
Having no relatives to pattern my future professional behavior holed road in life?
after, I lucked upon two family physicians who took care of me
as I grew up in a small American town of 5,000. Dr. Vigor was The answer to that question is getting slightly iffier — until I
the kindly white-haired G.P. who let me play with his white poo- hear a “Thank you, doc.” Then I remember the first baby I per-
dle in their backyard until his nurse/wife would call me into the sonally delivered as a third-year medical student, the sweet pa-
home office. Dr. Hodges was bald and no-nonsense who still tient who patiently tolerated my inept attempts to draw blood
exuded great kindness as he carved out the wart from my finger out of anemic veins, or the alcoholic, chain-smoking obese pa-
joint. Both physicians looked after everybody in that small town; tient who claims I’m the first doctor to explain his health in a
they were greatly admired. They are still my role models. way he understands such that he’ll work on taking better care of
himself. I am a sucker for patients.
The tough road to becoming a physician never appears ardu-
ous when you know it is your road in life. I had no doubts. It’s relationships, connections to our patients, that keep us
Scholastic achievements, volunteering to help out veterans at the physicians wanting to take care of them. Whether it is an in-
local VA hospital, participating in extracurricular club activities, nate calling within one’s soul or a thoughtful intellectualization,
or looking after an ill mother and active bratty brothers were we understand the great privilege — and hard work! — in-
normal things to do; they were not activities to fill out on a fu- volved in helping people as their physicians. Fortunately for
ture application form for medical school. In my naiveté, four us, there are many smart and idealistic young people getting
years of university studies, four years of medical school and the on the road to medicine.
nebulous years of residency were merely part of the price to be
paid for the privilege of looking after people. Wendy B. Kang, MD, JD, is professor/clinical in
the Department of Anesthesiology at the University of
I did know that I needed to be above reproach in my behavior, Texas Health Science Center San Antonio.
just like Drs. Vigor and Hodges. No self-respecting doctor
visit us at www.bcms.org 19