So…it’s been a minute. Some people have been wondering what happened to my blog. I was one of them. Truth is, I spent the last several months trying to figure out why I had no motivation to write anymore, and then I learned of a new concept that made everything so much clearer.
People often ask me if I had always wanted to be doctor. The truth is, I’m not sure I ever really had much of a choice. My parents, having risked their lives to travel by boat across the Pacific Ocean to escape poverty, Communism and the Vietnam War, had high hopes for me.
My aunt immigrated to the United States from Vietnam when she was 20 years old. My dad, who had immigrated to the States several years earlier, sponsored her, along with another sister and their mother (my grandmother). She came over with no education, no knowledge of the English language or American culture, and no job prospects.
At the end of one of my appointments, my patient turned to me before stepping out of my office and said “Thank you for what you do.” I had just evaluated her for what was likely a mild case of Covid-19 infection, collected a PCR swab, reassured her that everything suggested she would be fine, but also gave further guidance on red-flag symptoms and how to prevent spreading the infection to others. That was ten months ago.
So…it’s been a minute. Some people have been wondering what happened to my blog. I was one of them. Truth is, I spent the last several months trying to figure out why I had no motivation to write anymore, and then I learned of a new concept that made everything so much clearer.
People often ask me if I had always wanted to be doctor. The truth is, I’m not sure I ever really had much of a choice. My parents, having risked their lives to travel by boat across the Pacific Ocean to escape poverty, Communism and the Vietnam War, had high hopes for me.
My aunt immigrated to the United States from Vietnam when she was 20 years old. My dad, who had immigrated to the States several years earlier, sponsored her, along with another sister and their mother (my grandmother). She came over with no education, no knowledge of the English language or American culture, and no job prospects.
At the end of one of my appointments, my patient turned to me before stepping out of my office and said “Thank you for what you do.” I had just evaluated her for what was likely a mild case of Covid-19 infection, collected a PCR swab, reassured her that everything suggested she would be fine, but also gave further guidance on red-flag symptoms and how to prevent spreading the infection to others. That was ten months ago.