” There is undoubtedly a lot of pressure that comes with recognition, which can be a good thing and a bad thing all at the same time.”
– Prabal Gurung
I had just finished another clinic duty and was walking towards the tricycle terminal found just behind the public market. I was in the middle of one of my usual daydreams when I was suddenly pulled back into reality by an eager “Hello po, doktora!”. Looking up, I saw that it was one of the tricycle drivers. He was already pulling away from the terminal, a passenger on board his vehicle, but when he saw me, he took time to greet me and even call out at his fellow drivers, informing them that I needed a ride. The man I assumed to be a foreman of sorts directed me to an empty tricycle and immediately informed the driver where I was going home to. I didn’t have to say anything. They already knew.
It felt strange to be recognized. I honestly couldn’t remember how I got acquainted with the tricycle driver, if he consulted at the barangay health station (BHS), at the rural health unit (RHU), or maybe even visited our foster home in Sulsugin as an acquaintance or relative of our foster mom. There was nothing about my appearance that may have tipped him of my identity. I wasn’t in scrubs, wasn’t wearing an ID, nor carrying any of my medical tools. The tricycle driver simply knew that I was their doctor.
Going into this rotation, I knew that it was going to be a challenge being the sole doctor at the barangay health station. With Luksuhin Ibaba being the largest and most populated barangay in Alfonso, I had the additional challenge of having slightly more patients than my co-interns. That said, maybe it was inevitable that people would start actively seeking out this sole doctor. For some of them, you’re the only doctor they’ll ever get to see.
It really is such a different world here in the community, compared to what I know in UP-PGH. Back in the hospital, my patience would repeatedly get tested after being called “Nurse! Nurse!”, “Ate! Ate”, or worse “Ineng! Ineng!” by patients and their watchers. All these, even after all these years and after finally earning the right to wear my Intern’s coat. I’d all but grown tired of correcting them about my confusing position as ‘almost a doctor’. But here in the community, even without the coat, people recognize me as their doctor. And though this initially brought me delight, thinking that, at last, I’ve sort of arrived! I actually talk knowledgeably and act skillfully enough to be seen as a physician!, the recognition now brings a little bit of panic in me. For I once again realize that to be called and recognized as a doctor is more than just a title, it is really such a big responsibility. Being a doctor makes people put their utmost trust in you. There will be moments when you’ll literally have lives on your hands.
“…to be called and recognized as a doctor is more than just a title, it is really such a big responsibility.”
Two more weeks remain of my stay as the intern-in-charge of Barangay Luksuhin Ibaba, and I’m planning to make the most of every moment. I’ll do my best to prove worthy of my patients’ trust and their everyday greetings of “Hello, doktora!”.