She's a double doctorate at Stanford with an MD and a Ph.D. in "aging." She didn't give more details on her research interests. She just stares at me blankly with those big eyes.
"Was it a date?" She asks.
"No, it was just coffee." I explain to her that it brought up a lot of questions, and one of those questions was debating how attractive I am. Was I really stable enough for a real relationship? Etc.
She doesn't offer any advice or words of encouragement, she only eyes me carefully. "Well, it's good that you're asking those big questions," she finally offers.
Before I knew about her degrees, I told her how since I was eleven years old, I've wanted to go to medical school, but thought that the environment, the stress of being a medical student and then the hard hours of being a resident would make me sick. That I wouldn't be able to finish. I also expressed to her that I wanted to do research and teach, but I would need a Ph.D. as well.
Again, she sits there, and glares at me, as if just below the surface, she was debating how ridiculous it was for an average student like myself with an extraordinary disease could possibly manage a double doctorate. I mean, that's for really smart people like herself.
"Well, everyone has different abilities and desires," she says vaguely, as if that's a PC way of saying that some people just flunk out, and good for them! Because then, they will find what they really desire to do in life! God closes a door, and opens a window--bullshit.
Of course, she might not have been ridiculing me at all. Perhaps she was distracted because she knows she needs to pick up her dry cleaning or she won't have anything to wear to work tomorrow--and dammit, isn't it her parents' anniversary tomorrow too? Shit.
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