I wanted to be a doctor when I grew up.

As a kid, I had an intense fascination with anatomy and the idea of being a doctor. I had a medical dictionary and would flip through it, and I dressed up in a lab coat and stethoscope on career day. More specifically, I dreamed of being a surgeon. As time went on and I gained academic experience, I started to get a better idea of what I enjoyed studying, and science was just not it for me. I grew up in a private school with science teachers who did not even have science degrees or a chemistry lab, which put me at a great disadvantage. I graduated with a hatred of chemistry and decided to avoid it all possible costs. So, I figured that I would get a Ph.D. in math or English, granting me the doctor title anyhow and landing me in a role as a professor. I picked math, because the student papers would be more tolerable when it came time for grading. Plus, the science credit could be covered with physics, which is basically applied math. I greatly enjoyed my math studies until graduate school, and then I decided to stop with the Master's degree after barely getting together the drive to finish the two years. (The graduate experience is for a whole 'nother blog.) Little did I know that my fascination with the medical field would get rekindled after the birth of my child, two years after graduation.
The cranio journey has been an incredible learning experience. I know so many things about the human body that I would have never bothered to learn before, and I am so thankful for the experience of learning. In this day of information, I have been able to put together an extensive file of everything done to my son, so that he may know when he grows up. Admittedly, I jump at the chance of gathering surgical reports, operative pictures, and so forth. Then, I read them over and over and try to learn the language of the professionals. I relish being an informed parent at the appointments, and I am extremely happy that the doctors are willing to discuss things with me in a thorough enough manner. I am the student; they are the teachers.
Just today, I picked up the surgeon notes from both operations and began to read them before we even left the hospital. I need to do some dictionary work before I can fully picture what they are saying, but I already have an awe and respect for just how skilled these scientists/artisans are. I am also incredibly thankful for their skill, as their knowledge and wisdom and steady hands carried them through some intense hours with my son. These people know my son intimately, as no other can know him. I am not sure what the word is for someone who has seen your brain and ensured its health and safety, but how much more intimate can you get? His life and future were in their hands, and they ensured his well-being.
I am eternally grateful for that, and I now know that I never could stand in their shoes. First, a reality check as an adult helped me to realize that being blind in one eye just would not "cut it" in such a profession. (Yes, the pun was intended. haha ) Then, I have enough emotional maturity to realize that I do not have what it takes to handle such pressure. I leave it to the professionals and just dare to dream of someday contributing to the bank of knowledge in some way. I have contemplated a return to school to study biomathematics and make my mark in research, but we shall see. For now, I have to stay where I am so that I can have the time required to see my son through these difficult years. Some day, though, I have that dream.