I hate my medicine textbooks because I can neither immediately verify the knowledge within nor contribute to it. Everyone has a learning style. Mine is more of a disability. I’m that bird that learns to fly only as it falls. It hates reading flight manuals. I realize how this approach is unethical in acquiring medical knowledge, and that’s another reason I call my behavior a disability.
I wish to create. To craft. To solve problems. ‘Creating’ is more engaging for me than reading, talking, socializing, and watching movies combined. If the world eternally puts me in a jail in exchange for some real problems to solve and enough resources for the problem solving, I’d be the happiest person on earth.
Lucky me, I’ve been able to quench my burning desire to ‘create’ all my life. By coding. Coding is that magical thing you can create a whole world out of with, using only a computer and a mind. What could be better for someone like me? But unlucky me, I’m a practicing physician. I have fought for years trying to persuade myself out of the fantastic realm of coding. I planned my future life without it. I betrayed my passion. Because I had to be a doctor. Everyone said I had to. My parents too. I wish I was loyal enough to existentialism to break myself free from these confines and live a life that cared for nothing but passions.
Today, after watching a video lecture on a certain aspect of programming, I’m feeling very disturbed. I wish so bad to be back in the realm of code. I wish to fly once again rather than crawling through bulky books of ready-made wisdom. If only I could. I could. If only I would.