LJ Idol Week 18, Prompt: Ikigai
Sep. 18th, 2022 08:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mollywheezy“The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.”
― Frederick Buechner, Wishful Thinking: A Theological ABC
I decided when I was three-years-old I was going to grow up to be a doctor. I was a very sickly child, but rather than developing a hatred of doctors and hospitals, I developed a love for them, especially for my pediatrician. He would let me play pranks on him and pretend to be scared when he found a plastic snake in his Kleenex box. He even let me listen to his heart and look in my mom’s ears (he didn’t let me hold the ear-looking device by myself, though).
What specialty I wanted to have changed over the years, but I always wanted to be a doctor. When I was fifteen, I first heard about hospice when my grandparents’ home health nurse suggested it to us. We didn’t choose to use hospice because it would mean losing Nurse Sue the home health nurse, and she had practically been a member of the family for years. I secretly rescued the informational brochures from the trash where my mom threw them, and read them. Even if my mom thought we didn’t need help, I disagreed. I thought having a social worker, a chaplain, a bereavement coordinator, home health aides, volunteers and a doctor who made house calls would all be very helpful. Of course, as a fifteen-year-old, I did not get a say in our decisions, plus I also loved Nurse Sue and didn’t want to lose her either, but I decided I wanted to be a hospice medical director and help families like mine.
I volunteered at the hospital in high school, but I didn’t want to be a candy striper. I worked in the surgical department, generally cleaning sinks and restocking soap, but I was allowed to watch surgeries. I was fascinated! My CPA dad had three clients who were doctors and I shadowed all of them. My former pediatrician let me shadow him, too. I took all the science classes, and researched where I might want to go to college and medical school. I discovered the Honors Program in Medical Education at Northwestern University. I could apply for medical school at the same time I applied to undergraduate. I only had to keep a 3.0 GPA and do decently on the MCATs to have a guaranteed spot in medical school without having to go through the application process. I loved Chicago and had wanted to go to Northwestern since I heard what colleges were. I attended a prospective student weekend and loved it. I had a plan.
My guidance counselor told me my plan would never work because I was not smart enough to get into the Honors Program in Medical Education because they only accepted the best of the best. I told her I would try anyway. She told me I was wasting my time. I felt hopeful when I was granted an interview with the medical school. It took place in January in Chicago. My mom and I traveled together and stayed in a hotel near Northwestern’s medical school so I could walk there by myself. The actual temperature was five degrees below zero on the Fahrenheit scale. Not with the wind chill. The actual temperature. I arrived for my interview with my teeth chattering so hard I couldn’t talk. The interviewer
made me a cup of herbal tea. I remember being shocked that the tea was bright red, but it was warm and tasted good, and I appreciated her kindness in making it for me. I honestly don’t remember a thing about the interview, but a few weeks later, I received an acceptance letter! It was the highlight of my high school life when I took the letter to my guidance counselor and said only, “Look, Ms. Smith!” Her jaw drop was like something that would be seen in a cartoon!
However, even with my excitement at my acceptance, I did not receive a scholarship and was going to receive very little financial aid so if I accepted my place in the program, I would have over $100,000 in student loans. When I received a full tuition scholarship to Tulane University, I could not turn that down. I still wanted to go to Medical school but I could still do that if I went to Tulane and hopefully get scholarships for Medical school. I had loved Tulane when I visited. (I actually went to visit a friend from summer camp who lived in New Orleans and justified the trip by visiting Tulane.) The frigid cold of a Chicago winter did not endear me to Northwestern either.
I started college at Tulane in a B.S. in Biology/B.A. in English dual degree program, but college science was not going so well. I had taken numerous Advanced Placement courses in high school so I essentially began college as a sophomore and didn’t have any of the Freshman “ease a person into college life” sort of courses. At the end of my Freshman year, I had C’s in my science classes and A’s in my other classes and I had been enjoying my non-science classes more. Well, I did enjoy Cellular and Molecular Biology but only because the professor was gorgeous and had a sexy Australian accent.
I did not want to risk losing my scholarship with my not-so-stellar grades, so I decided to take a semester off from taking science courses. I already had completed the requirements for medical school, so I had the freedom to take a break. The first semester of my Sophomore year was great! My grades shot up and so did my happiness level. But I had wanted to be a doctor for as long as I could remember. What was I going to do if I gave up that goal? Would my life even have meaning any more?
At the beginning of my second semester of my Sophomore year, I was running errands with the campus minister. I had become involved in the United Campus Ministry group, primarily supported by the Methodist, Presbyterian, United Church of Christ, and Disciples of Christ churches, but all of the various religious groups on campus were “y’all come” and since they fed students, most of us showed up for all of them. The rabbi at Hillel House, the Jewish campus ministry, made awesome matzo ball soup!
While on our errand Rev. J asked me what I wanted to do with my life. I said I didn’t know. He asked if he could offer suggestions, and I agreed. Rev. J told me “You have all of the requirements for medical school. You could still go.” I nodded. He continued, “You could go to graduate school and be a professor of English Literature.” “Maybe.” “You could go to law school.” “NO.” “Or you could go to seminary and become an ordained minister. With your medical background you would make an excellent chaplain because you are so comfortable in healthcare settings.” I didn’t respond to his last suggestion, but I did begin to think about it.
I remembered back to being fifteen and first hearing about hospice and my desire to become a hospice medical director. I could still work for hospice but as a chaplain! That was my new plan! The summer after my sophomore year, I had lunch with my favorite high school teacher. “Doc” taught English and everyone loved him. When I told him of my new plan, he said, “I thought being a doctor was what motivated you. This seems like a huge change.” I responded, “Helping people was my motivation. I’ve only changed the means by which I will help.” Doc nodded thoughtfully.
When I started seminary, I also began working part-time as a volunteer chaplain for a local hospice. Since I was a seminary student, the “official” chaplain let me do everything he would and I loved it! I was able to meet all sorts of fascinating people. I still have a painting displayed in my home painted by the husband of my first ever hospice patient as a thank you gift.
It took me thirteen years after seminary to acquire a job as a full time hospice chaplain, but it was worth the wait. I have been on staff at several churches, but I have always preferred visiting everyone rather than waiting for them to come to me in a church. All of us as humans love and will someday die, and all of us grieve. There is so much more that unites us than divides us, and I have the privilege of helping patients and their loved ones through the dying process and the aftermath of grief. I talk to strangers about spirituality and death. What’s your superpower?
Even though I lost my full time hospice chaplain job over a year ago, I have continued to do the same thing. I was with my friend Mary Ann when her mom died. I had visited her every week before and after her mom’s death. She jokingly called me her “Concierge Chaplain.” I was thankful I was able to be there for her. Other friends often ask me for advice on end of life issues, and I am a habitual funeral attendee so I can be present to provide support to the family. The fact that I was accepted to medical school at age seventeen has allowed me to win that “get to know you” game where someone names three true facts about themselves and one false one. Nobody ever guesses.
― Frederick Buechner, Wishful Thinking: A Theological ABC
I decided when I was three-years-old I was going to grow up to be a doctor. I was a very sickly child, but rather than developing a hatred of doctors and hospitals, I developed a love for them, especially for my pediatrician. He would let me play pranks on him and pretend to be scared when he found a plastic snake in his Kleenex box. He even let me listen to his heart and look in my mom’s ears (he didn’t let me hold the ear-looking device by myself, though).
What specialty I wanted to have changed over the years, but I always wanted to be a doctor. When I was fifteen, I first heard about hospice when my grandparents’ home health nurse suggested it to us. We didn’t choose to use hospice because it would mean losing Nurse Sue the home health nurse, and she had practically been a member of the family for years. I secretly rescued the informational brochures from the trash where my mom threw them, and read them. Even if my mom thought we didn’t need help, I disagreed. I thought having a social worker, a chaplain, a bereavement coordinator, home health aides, volunteers and a doctor who made house calls would all be very helpful. Of course, as a fifteen-year-old, I did not get a say in our decisions, plus I also loved Nurse Sue and didn’t want to lose her either, but I decided I wanted to be a hospice medical director and help families like mine.
I volunteered at the hospital in high school, but I didn’t want to be a candy striper. I worked in the surgical department, generally cleaning sinks and restocking soap, but I was allowed to watch surgeries. I was fascinated! My CPA dad had three clients who were doctors and I shadowed all of them. My former pediatrician let me shadow him, too. I took all the science classes, and researched where I might want to go to college and medical school. I discovered the Honors Program in Medical Education at Northwestern University. I could apply for medical school at the same time I applied to undergraduate. I only had to keep a 3.0 GPA and do decently on the MCATs to have a guaranteed spot in medical school without having to go through the application process. I loved Chicago and had wanted to go to Northwestern since I heard what colleges were. I attended a prospective student weekend and loved it. I had a plan.
My guidance counselor told me my plan would never work because I was not smart enough to get into the Honors Program in Medical Education because they only accepted the best of the best. I told her I would try anyway. She told me I was wasting my time. I felt hopeful when I was granted an interview with the medical school. It took place in January in Chicago. My mom and I traveled together and stayed in a hotel near Northwestern’s medical school so I could walk there by myself. The actual temperature was five degrees below zero on the Fahrenheit scale. Not with the wind chill. The actual temperature. I arrived for my interview with my teeth chattering so hard I couldn’t talk. The interviewer
made me a cup of herbal tea. I remember being shocked that the tea was bright red, but it was warm and tasted good, and I appreciated her kindness in making it for me. I honestly don’t remember a thing about the interview, but a few weeks later, I received an acceptance letter! It was the highlight of my high school life when I took the letter to my guidance counselor and said only, “Look, Ms. Smith!” Her jaw drop was like something that would be seen in a cartoon!
However, even with my excitement at my acceptance, I did not receive a scholarship and was going to receive very little financial aid so if I accepted my place in the program, I would have over $100,000 in student loans. When I received a full tuition scholarship to Tulane University, I could not turn that down. I still wanted to go to Medical school but I could still do that if I went to Tulane and hopefully get scholarships for Medical school. I had loved Tulane when I visited. (I actually went to visit a friend from summer camp who lived in New Orleans and justified the trip by visiting Tulane.) The frigid cold of a Chicago winter did not endear me to Northwestern either.
I started college at Tulane in a B.S. in Biology/B.A. in English dual degree program, but college science was not going so well. I had taken numerous Advanced Placement courses in high school so I essentially began college as a sophomore and didn’t have any of the Freshman “ease a person into college life” sort of courses. At the end of my Freshman year, I had C’s in my science classes and A’s in my other classes and I had been enjoying my non-science classes more. Well, I did enjoy Cellular and Molecular Biology but only because the professor was gorgeous and had a sexy Australian accent.
I did not want to risk losing my scholarship with my not-so-stellar grades, so I decided to take a semester off from taking science courses. I already had completed the requirements for medical school, so I had the freedom to take a break. The first semester of my Sophomore year was great! My grades shot up and so did my happiness level. But I had wanted to be a doctor for as long as I could remember. What was I going to do if I gave up that goal? Would my life even have meaning any more?
At the beginning of my second semester of my Sophomore year, I was running errands with the campus minister. I had become involved in the United Campus Ministry group, primarily supported by the Methodist, Presbyterian, United Church of Christ, and Disciples of Christ churches, but all of the various religious groups on campus were “y’all come” and since they fed students, most of us showed up for all of them. The rabbi at Hillel House, the Jewish campus ministry, made awesome matzo ball soup!
While on our errand Rev. J asked me what I wanted to do with my life. I said I didn’t know. He asked if he could offer suggestions, and I agreed. Rev. J told me “You have all of the requirements for medical school. You could still go.” I nodded. He continued, “You could go to graduate school and be a professor of English Literature.” “Maybe.” “You could go to law school.” “NO.” “Or you could go to seminary and become an ordained minister. With your medical background you would make an excellent chaplain because you are so comfortable in healthcare settings.” I didn’t respond to his last suggestion, but I did begin to think about it.
I remembered back to being fifteen and first hearing about hospice and my desire to become a hospice medical director. I could still work for hospice but as a chaplain! That was my new plan! The summer after my sophomore year, I had lunch with my favorite high school teacher. “Doc” taught English and everyone loved him. When I told him of my new plan, he said, “I thought being a doctor was what motivated you. This seems like a huge change.” I responded, “Helping people was my motivation. I’ve only changed the means by which I will help.” Doc nodded thoughtfully.
When I started seminary, I also began working part-time as a volunteer chaplain for a local hospice. Since I was a seminary student, the “official” chaplain let me do everything he would and I loved it! I was able to meet all sorts of fascinating people. I still have a painting displayed in my home painted by the husband of my first ever hospice patient as a thank you gift.
It took me thirteen years after seminary to acquire a job as a full time hospice chaplain, but it was worth the wait. I have been on staff at several churches, but I have always preferred visiting everyone rather than waiting for them to come to me in a church. All of us as humans love and will someday die, and all of us grieve. There is so much more that unites us than divides us, and I have the privilege of helping patients and their loved ones through the dying process and the aftermath of grief. I talk to strangers about spirituality and death. What’s your superpower?
Even though I lost my full time hospice chaplain job over a year ago, I have continued to do the same thing. I was with my friend Mary Ann when her mom died. I had visited her every week before and after her mom’s death. She jokingly called me her “Concierge Chaplain.” I was thankful I was able to be there for her. Other friends often ask me for advice on end of life issues, and I am a habitual funeral attendee so I can be present to provide support to the family. The fact that I was accepted to medical school at age seventeen has allowed me to win that “get to know you” game where someone names three true facts about themselves and one false one. Nobody ever guesses.
