One of the more complex personalities in our GMDS community (and we have
some VERY complex ones), Rishi Vohora got his start in life eating crumpets and
playing cricket (or was it playing with crickets??). But in 3rd grade, that all
changed. Rishi experienced freedom. Liberty. And the American way. Upon his
arrival on the shores of the US of A from England, Rishi immediately took a
liking to all things black-and-white. His first TV set. His favorite TV show --
the Jeffersons. And he fell in love with the Yankees.
That's how it all began for many of us. Usually passed down through generations
of legend and lore (and parental brainwashing). Rishi is living proof of what
can happen with parents that do not like baseball.
All grown up.
"Dr. Vohora to the emergency room. Dr. Vohora." When I first got to
know Rishi, he was entering residency, year one... AKA "internship".
He liked the fact that he was being called "doctor" but could not, for
the life of him (or his patients) imagine that people would put their life in
his hands. I imagine that this goes on with many young, budding, doctors. I also
imagine that this is why many people stay away from the hospitals unless
absolutely necessary... and even then call for the residents the minute they get
in. Rishi would spend late nights e-mailing me because no one else was awake at
the time.
Confidence grows.
Rishi becomes a 2nd year resident. I recall from various correspondence with
Rishi that at some point during the changeover, his banter went from "huh?
help!" to "this intern has no fucking clue what she is doing. i better
go help her. bye." Scary how quickly things change.
Confidence grows even more.
And then Rishi becomes a tool. A tool of the system and a chief resident. He
schedules. Beats up interns. And kisses up to hopefully get the full blown,
cardiology fellowship. It is the game and Rishi is playing it well.
But he cares. He truly cares. How can a doctor NOT care about his patients? He
wants to help them. He wants to cure them.
Then comes love.
The on-again-off-again-on-again-off-again-on-again-off-again relationship with a
mysterious woman named MyJenn. It is not clear whether it should be HisJenn, or
RishiJenn, or just MyJenn... but to say that she is the love of his life so far
would be fair (at least for now). Wedding is around the corner and nerves set
in. These are not the same nerves of steel that deal with patients patiently and
calmly. These are different. These are the ones that want to get laid by more
than just MyJenn (Note: Do NOT sleep in same room as Rishi in Las Vegas). And
the usual male trepidations of living with someone new, inheriting a new mother,
and fear of forgetting to put the toilet seat down and its ramifications.
And what about family? Friends?
The bind that ties everything together. Rishi is bound to them more than
anything else. It is tough to let go. Even just a little. The cord is loosened
and everything feels different. Tight-knit families are tough to dislodge. So a
move to Boston was not easy. But not impossible either. Family comes first.
And passions?
Guitar. Play more music. Into a different zone. THe Yankees. Not true Yankees
like the teams that he grew up with -- but Rishi will settle for championships
nonetheless. And fantasy baseball? The spark is not nearly what it used to be.
Rishi had no intention of what happened with last year's primer and wishes he
had never written it. But disdain turns into hope and Las Vegas will bring us
back to stability and more importantly, friendship.
