How I ‘found’ my passion for aging and elderly care

Growing up in a South Asian household, I actually did not hear the phrase, “find your passion.” Like most children, I looked to my community for a sense of direction. I realized that the majority of our family friends were happy physicians. Therefore, my parents never told me that I should enter medicine; I already knew. Becoming a doctor means living a happy life. Doctors work hard, so I should work hard. Doctors are smart, so I should become smart (still working this one out). 

I did everything that I was supposed to do in high school and ended up at Washington University in St. Louis for undergrad. I quickly signed up for an array of clubs, started research, and immersed myself into work. I did this for 2 years, but something just felt wrong. When talking to med school students about how the medical school application process works, I saw that I would have nothing special that distinguished me from the 75,000 other people applying next to me. More importantly, my “why” wasn’t strong enough to pull me through endless years of grunt work. What even was my “why?”

Because I cared about helping people? Sure, but so does the rest of the world. Because I like science? Being a scientist would be a better fit in that case. Because I liked the idea of being woken in the middle of the night? Yeah probably, but I can’t say that in an interview. 

I sat down completely distraught. People always talk about how magical it is to have a passion. How incredible it is to be completely engrossed by something every time you do it or think about it. While I felt that feeling when I played soccer, I still could not find it in an academic sense. I almost started to ride it off as something that does exist except for the select few geniuses who end up shaping the world. I took me two full years to understand that

I was splashing rather than swimming.

After this realization, I knew that I had to sit down and simply dig deeper. My days were filled with activities that I enjoyed doing, but they were so different from one another that I never had the chance to gain a deeper understanding of anything. 

I began to dissect and distill my weekly activities to their essence. If I could break down everything into feelings and situations, then I could start to combine them in a way that will allow me to craft the ultimate activity.

For example, why do I like volunteering through Crisis Text Line? I like it because I get a taste of humanity. I like it because it is powerful being able to help and empower others that don’t know me in their darkest of times. I like being able to give attention and allow people to feel heard. I like being able to guide people in a way that makes them feel like they are in control of their life.

I quickly understood, “Wow, a doctor does a lot of these things and more.” While this confirmed that medicine is for me, I wanted more exposure to these feelings. It would be naive to wait to wait 10 years until I was a practicing physician to be able to help others through health. 

Since a pre-medical student has effectively zero expertise to help patients through treatments, it became wildly important to figure out the best way to hone my skills so I am prepared for when the opportunity arises. From that point onwards, I started to list the things that I loved doing. 

It was no longer about knowing what I don’t like. I had to understand what I adored.

It became clear rather quickly that I enjoyed working with underserved/forgotten populations in a medical setting where I could drive conversations and activities to engage and empower them. After hours reading and talking to peers, I came across volunteering at Unity Hospice. My role was simple: go and talk to “John” once every week. I started to develop a bond with John. His eyes would get really big every time I entered through his door. We would laugh, play mental games, and learn about one another’s pasts. After a couple months, I asked to visit more and more people.

I learned so much in such little time. Every visit with each person was entirely different. I learned about the challenges of elderly care. I learned how the death of a friend or a loved one affects our older adults. I learned what it looks like to not hear from your family. I learned what it looks like to feel isolated. I learned how different people cope with loneliness. I learned what it looks like to feel helpless and lose your sense of purpose. I learned how to watch Alzheimer’s slowly take someone from themselves. I learned how to watch someone slowly die. 

I didn’t wake up one day and realize that I like working with aging and older adults. I don’t think anyone really finds a passion. This passion must be cultivated and fed through vivid experiences. While my journey has veered towards combating many of these challenges through a non-profit that I started called Create Circles and advocating for older adults through my LinkedIn videos, I continue to learn something new everyday about my newfound passion.