We have all been asked the infamous question as medical students: “What kind of doctor do you want to be, or what specialty do you want to specialize in?” If you have already made up your mind, answering this question can be exciting; if not, it can be extremely intimidating.
Regardless of what drew you to medicine—parental pressure, a strong desire to rescue lives, or simply just a few too many episodes of Grey’s Anatomy in high school—one thing is for sure: Medicine will challenge, excite, and mold you. Clinical rotations are, in my humble view, the most distinctive aspect of medical school. Nothing compares to witnessing the application of your acquired knowledge in an actual hospital environment. It closes the gap between textbooks and life and is both gratifying and enlightening.
During this time, many students find their interests piqued by certain specialties they rotate through. Some feel reassured that their pre-clinical or even pre-med dreams were right all along, while others realize that what they once thought was their calling might not be the best fit after all. And then there’s a good number who walk away feeling completely lost.
It’s important to remember that being unsure about your specialty choice doesn’t mean you lack passion for medicine or drive—it can actually mean the opposite. Some students who truly love medicine may feel overwhelmed by the sheer number of possibilities. They might find themselves drawn to multiple fields, struggling to choose just one, because, after all, they want to do a little bit of everything.
A lot of times, I hear from seniors that it’s best to know early on where you want to gear toward. Many suggest immersing yourself in each experience and rotation. This is a tried-and-true method, and you should be fully immersed in each rotation you do. However, it could also have the opposite effect—instead of being sure, you may develop more interests and expand your choices. While broadening your horizon is not necessarily a bad thing, it doesn’t help much in narrowing down to one singular destination.
Personally, I am not ashamed to say that currently, I am going through this particular conundrum. Before medical school, I had my eyes set on surgery. I told my high school self that I was going to become a cardiothoracic surgeon one day. That became my reason for choosing medicine.
Medical school came with its fair share of surprises, and not just from textbooks. Life threw a few curveballs my way, leading me straight to a psychiatrist—who, funnily enough, ended up being more than just my therapist. She became my first mentor, and thanks to her, I stumbled into psychiatry. It was love at first sight—insight, rather. Pardon me, I’m no comedian. Many people who know me assume that psychiatry is the field I am most interested in. I don’t blame them because it is what I talk about the most.
However, my love for surgery did not fade, and I was sure that my clinical years would solve this internal drift. When the time came, I was royally proven wrong. I enjoyed psychiatry, which didn’t help much because, secretly, I wasn’t expecting to like the hands-on experience. I didn’t realize that, at the back of my mind, I was hoping that through the rotation, I might learn that psychiatry was not for me. But that didn’t happen. Neither is that happening currently as I complete my general surgery rotation.
Of course, many will say to make a list, do some self-reflection, or talk to more mentors. But I can do all of that—and I have—and at the end of the day, I believe a choice must be made. I think what we fear most in making these choices is the possibility of regret and that lingering “what if.”
But I definitely believe that “what ifs” and regrets are unavoidable. At some point in your life, you will wonder, “What if?” So my advice for now is not to worry too much. I know, I know—this is not groundbreaking advice. But really, when someone asks what you want to specialize in, just be honest. And if it’s a lecturer or doctor in the field, they are usually more than happy to talk about how great their job is. In that, there’s an opportunity to listen. Then ask yourself: Do I see myself here, doing this? You can follow the trail from there. And, of course, it goes without saying: Do your research, and be open to asking, observing, and learning.
Khadija Khamis Ussi is a medical student in Tanzania.