A Story
My physical therapist (the one I've been going to for several months, not the one-off on Monday who brutalized me in service of a higher goal) started an interesting story a few weeks ago, then completed it last week.
She said she originally wanted to be a doctor. Her whole life, she wanted to be a doctor. She didn't get the the necessary test scores, though, so she turned to physical therapy as the closest alternative.
This woman is brilliant. She would have been a superb doctor. I absolutely could not imagine her getting the necessary test scores.
Last week, the subject came up again (I think I mentioned it), and she finished the story. She grew up in India, and everyone takes a single test to quality for a medical program. The city she went to for testing had violent political unrest during the time she was there. It was terrifying. They offered the students the opportunity to take the test at another time, but she stayed. It affected her concentration, which is no surprise.
This exam can only be taken once a year, so after her scores came in, she decided she didn't want to wait another year and enrolled in a physical therapy school.
It's my good fortune she did. She's an amazing therapist. But it's hard to imagine having your life upended like that.
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