The law enforcement career choice kept creeping up yesterday. So as I was babysitting psych patients, I did a lot more research online. The first thing I looked up was cop mortality rates. Followed by burnout, personal life and psych disorders. The statistics were less than compelling. But were they compelling? I knew the answers would be bad. I kind of wanted them to be bad deep inside. I talk to a couple of the police officers I work with in the ER. They both had positive things to say about the job. But in the back of my mind I came back to one thing. I'm too scared to be a cop. I'm too scared to be in that kind of danger. I fear death without meaning. I have no illusions about how small of a guy I am. If I run into some shitty dude who thinks he can take me, he probably can. Most of the assault and mortality rates of cops had to do with ambush. It made me sick to my stomach. I couldn't face that danger. Not being my size. Wouldn't matter how much muscle I put on or training. It would always be a detriment. I know plenty of women who work as cops. Most of them are feisty enough to kick my ass even. I kept thinking about options within the force. SWAT. Homicide. Detective work. Maybe even FBI. Anything. But I still couldn't bring myself to it.
I kept on thinking about how burned out I would be. How the stress would always be with me inside of work and outside. I don't want to take my work with me. Also the intellectual challenge would be little. Nothing new to learn. Even if I was a paramedic too, my role would be little. No intellectually stimulating challenges. I would miss that.
I realized that the option would be the short track. The fast route. I realized that I would burn out fast. Way fast. By the time I burned out, I would be too old to go to school to do something better. I would be stuck. Although it would be a good a career it would be lousy living. My future family life would be affected by my work forever. I couldn't do that. The fast track tells me that my attraction to it is the power to do something right. But it also tells me that it's only a temporary infatuation since I had never considered it in the past as a career. It hasn't been a particular interest of mine ever. I realized that the infatuation with the job had more to do with the excitement my job now lacked. It was the excitement that would give my life a real shot in the arm. A shot I would badly need. But the satisfaction would be temporary. The practical usefulness would be novel but would lose it's appeal. It's not enough of what I want. It's only a portion of what I want and need. But I need to let other people who strongly desire that job to do it. I would be taking up space.
Medicine is my calling. If only I wasn't so scared to keep moving towards the light that I've been so attracted to. I'm like a moth following the sun. The source of light I constantly crave and chase, yet I'm too far away to catch it. I was reminded how much I loved medicine when watching a surgeon cut an abcess. She is an amazing surgeon. I watched her take control of the situation and keep a cool head. I loved that. I wanted that. To be in that position. To be in charge medically. To be a doctor. To know. To be smart. Yes, it all made sense again. I wanted to be the one keeping a cool head during a code, not during a shooting. When I looked in the mirror I couldn't imagine myself with a uniform and police gear. I saw more of a white coat and a stethoscope. I didn't see me taking down criminals in the heat of impulse to save my life and others. I saw me saving a life with knowledge. This is where I needed to be. It was always my place to be here.
I will still research law enforcement. Just to cover my bases. But I'm sure that my interest is just a fleeting moment. Following a shortcut with fast benefits but long term regret. Life is making sense again.
Sorry I doubted you medicine, my closet lover.
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