"Did you have a screw loose? Who even studies both?"
So this is me. Yes, the comment you just heard is about yours truly. And honestly? I definitely don’t have a loose screw, but my parents sure as hell do.
Though saying that out loud would get me a slipper to the face and a belt to the ass, so let’s keep that between us.
I sighed, running my hand through my hair as I stared at my friend Raj across the small café table.
The guy had his business management degree framed on his apartment wall like it was some kind of trophy, and here he was, trying to convince me to buy a plot of land that would make my life even more complicated than it already was.
"Look, Arjun," Raj continued, gesturing with his coffee cup, "I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking. You can’t be a doctor AND a veterinarian. It’s insane."
Yeah, well, tell that to my parents.
See, here’s the thing about having a human doctor for a father and a veterinarian for a mother – they both think their profession is the most important thing in the world.
And when you’re their only son? They don’t want you to choose. They want you to do both.
"Beta, humans need doctors," my father would say, adjusting his stethoscope like it was a crown. "It’s a noble profession. You save lives."
"But animals need doctors too!" my mother would jump in, still wearing her scrubs covered in God knows what kind of animal hair. "And they can’t even tell you what’s wrong with them. It requires more skill!"
And then they’d start their usual argument about whose job was harder while I sat there, wondering how the hell I became the compromise solution to their professional rivalry.
So naturally, they made me study both. Medical college for humans during the day, veterinary courses in the evening.
Double the textbooks, double the practicals, double the exams, and definitely double the stress.
While my friends were out partying or sleeping, I was memorizing the difference between human and canine cardiovascular systems.
"The clinic space I’m showing you is perfect," Raj was saying, pulling out his phone to show me pictures. "Good location, reasonable rent, and—"
"Wait." I held up my hand, squinting at the photos. "This place looks huge. Why would I need so much space for a regular clinic?"
Raj’s grin was the kind that made me immediately suspicious. "Well, that’s the beauty of it! It’s designed for both human and animal patients. Separate entrances, different waiting areas, the works!"
I stared at him. "You want me to run a clinic that treats both humans and animals?"
"Why not? You’re qualified for both!"
"Raj, that’s..." I paused, trying to find the right words. "That’s completely screwed up."
"Come on, man. Think about it – double the patients, double the income!"
Before I could respond, a voice from the next table cut through our conversation. "Excuse me, but I couldn’t help overhearing."
We turned to see a middle-aged doctor in a white coat, probably on his lunch break from the nearby hospital. He had that look that doctors get when they’re about to lecture someone – the same look my father wore when he disapproved of something.
"You’re planning to practice both human and veterinary medicine?" the doctor asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Well, I’m qualified in both—" I started.
"That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard," he interrupted, shaking his head. "How can someone be stupid enough to do both? You’ll never become an expert in either field. Medicine requires specialization, not this jack-of-all-trades nonsense."
I felt my face heat up. "Actually, sir, I’ve scored top marks in both—"
"Marks don’t mean anything in the real world, kid. When a patient is dying on your table, you think they care about your grades? You need focus, dedication, years of specialized experience. Not this half-baked approach."
Raj shifted uncomfortably in his seat, clearly regretting bringing up the clinic idea. But the doctor wasn’t done.
"And mixing human and animal medicine? That’s just asking for trouble. Cross-contamination, confused diagnoses, legal nightmares... You’re setting yourself up for failure, and worse, you’re putting lives at risk."
The words hit harder than they should have. Maybe because deep down, I’d been thinking the same thing. Maybe because after years of studying both fields, I still didn’t know which path I really wanted to take. Maybe because tomorrow I had to take both my final medical and veterinary licensing exams, and I was terrified of failing both.
"I think you should stick to what you know," the doctor concluded, standing up with his coffee. "Pick one field and do it properly."
As he walked away, I slumped back in my chair, feeling like shit. Raj was looking at me with a mixture of pity and concern, which somehow made it worse.
"Forget that guy," Raj said finally. "He’s just jealous that you can do something he can’t."
"Maybe he’s right," I muttered. "Maybe I should just pick one. Human medicine or veterinary. Not both."
"But your parents—"
"Will have to deal with it." I stood up abruptly, suddenly feeling claustrophobic in the small café. "I need some air."
I walked outside, leaving Raj with the bill – probably not my finest moment, but I wasn’t thinking straight. The street was busy with afternoon traffic, horns blaring, people rushing around with their own problems. At least they all knew what they were doing with their lives.
Tomorrow’s exams kept running through my mind. Two different licensing tests on the same day.
What kind of masochist schedules that? Oh right, me. Because I thought I could handle both.
Lost in my thoughts, I stepped off the curb without looking. That wasn’t my first mistake—everyone does that in this country.
A flashlight and in front of me was a TRUCK.
It passed beside me—a save.
’As always, luck favours me.’ It always did or else how can someone still be sane and much more alive studying both medical degrees?
That truck was heading straight for the small animal clinic across the street. But that wasn’t the weird part.
The weird part was what happened next.
A pack of stray dogs suddenly bolted out of nowhere, chasing a cat. The cat, in complete panic, leaped onto the truck’s windshield. The driver, startled by the sudden furry projectile, yanked the wheel hard right.
The truck tilted, skidded, and then - I kid you not - crashed directly into a medical supply store.
Medical equipment exploded everywhere. Stethoscopes, syringes, bandages, and veterinary supplies mixed together in the most bizarre accident scene ever.
"That’s... that’s, don’t tell me," I muttered, watching the chaos unfold as if a realization that Maybe my luck did save me from an accident that was inevitable and happened either way.
’Ah, shit, is he alive?’ And that’s when the really stupid part happened.
Being the concerned citizen I was and one who thought that accident happened due to me ( maybe I really got some screw loose in my mind), I ran toward the accident to help. After all, I had medical training, right? Both kinds!
What I didn’t notice was the small bottle of veterinary anesthetic that had rolled across the wet road from the crash.
What I also didn’t notice was that the medical oxygen tank from the store had cracked and was leaking.
And what I definitely didn’t notice was the small electrical wire that had gotten loose and was sparking on the wet ground.
I stepped on the anesthetic bottle, slipped backward, inhaled a lungful of oxygen-mixed-with-who-knows-what-chemicals, and crashed head-first into the electrical wire.
And I went through Heavenly Turbulation—the same thing I have become habitual after reading those cultivation novels.
Sssccrhhh
"AARRRRGHHHHHHHH—"