Background: 2000 (Age 33 years)
The ferry arrived at Bintan Island, Indonesia. Together with the crowd, mostly working adults, I disembarked. Then, I was chauffeured to the Bintan Industrial Park to meet my client.
The general manager of a Japanese company welcomed me. Later, I began the lecture. After speaking and standing for almost seven hours, I was exhausted. Tidying up my documents and computer accessories, I was ready to leave in order to catch the ferry. Accidentally, my laptop slipped from my hand and hit the ground! The LCD monitor cracked. Distressed. But there's no point in crying over spilled milk. I rushed to catch the ferry.
It was 8PM when the ferry arrived the World Trade Centre, Singapore. I took a taxi to go to Singapore - Malaysia immigration custom. Then, I took a bus to cross the Causeway to Johor Bahru, Malaysia, where I picked up my car and drove home. It was nearly 10PM when I reached home. I lived and worked in the three countries within one day! Sometimes, I only slept for four to five hours and rushed to work the next day. I was exhausted physically and mentally.
On a weekend, I took action on the advertisement i.e. "The School of Medicine, National University of Singapore, offers a medical degree plus Ph.D. course". I filled the application form. Then, I racked my brain to write my resume and an article to explain why I was ready to leave my career at age 33 to study medicine. The article focused on my childhood life experience and my determination to become a doctor (Part 5 and 6 in this memoir). I also mentioned that I had recently passed the "Master Degree in Biostatistics, National University of Singapore course" with flying colours, which gave me the confidence to pursue my ambition. Furthermore, I explained that if all went well, I would graduate as a doctor at 38, and a Ph.D. researcher at 43. And I would contribute at least two decades in medical profession before retirement. I believed that my qualification and determination were quite convincing. I would submit my application in person in the following week.
I walked into the designated building in the National University of Singapore which was well air-conditioned. The cool air made me feel a bit chilly. The clean and monotonous lift carried out its mission faithfully. "Ding" – that's the sound it made when its door opened. I was alone in the lift; I could hear my heartbeat. "Ding", the door opened. A typical official university administration department was right in front of me. The white light and staff without a smile made the atmosphere colder. The receptionist asked the staff in charge of the application to meet me. Soon, a woman, in her fifty, well-dressed but without a smile, appeared. She scanned my "middle-age" appearance and said, "Are you submitting an application form for a friend or relative?"
"No," I answered. I paused for a moment to see her eyebrows gently raised. I went on to say, "I am applying to study medicine."
With a surprised expression, she asked, "Do you mind if I ask how old are you?"
"33," I replied.
Her eyebrows were raised again, not gently this time, but rather deliberately even her wrinkles on the forehead were exposed.
"It will take 10 years to study medicine plus a Ph.D., you are overage," she replied like giving a verdict.
She went straight to the point and did not beat around the bush.
"I have prepared all these documents, give it a try," I said with a trace of dejection, "please help, thank you."
"OK," she replied softly, took the documents, and returned to her office.
Helpless, but it was a fact - I was "too old" to study medicine, perhaps.
In the dejected cold atmosphere, I couldn't stay any longer. The cold lift door opened and closed with a monotonous "ding" again. I left the building with a dejected look.