Malta – Week 3: Doctor or Divemaster?
MALTA
Week 3: Doctor or Divemaster?
April 27 to May 04, 2023
Before the wedding, after one week on the island, it felt as if I was already done with that place. The wedding, however, changed all that.
I guessed I owed it all to the love I had felt over the previous week. As nomadic as I might have thought I had become, I also realised I did have some roots in Malta, and, as much as I hated to admit it, they were important to me. So much so that living in what I would previously call a fish-shaped prison might not have been the worst thing to happen to me. I mean, yeah, sure, I didn’t envision myself living there for the rest of my life – God forbid – but after that week, the idea of spending the following few years training there didn’t make me go all bonkers as it would have done before.
Not to mention, I’d be leaving for another trip in a few days’ time! Then, once I’d come back, travelling would probably be out of the question for the foreseeable future, considering my finances had run dry. That said, this would be the perfect way to end my travelling experience – for the time being anyways.
All the money I had saved by staying in hostels instead of hotels and going on solo excursions instead of guided tours would be put to good use in this one trip. And so, I spent my few days here going over my itinerary and finalising some last-minute details so I wouldn’t have to worry about anything once I left.
DM or MD?
Also, wanting to make the most of the summer months waiting for me before I started my next training post, I decided to start looking for a job. Sitting idly by didn’t quite intrigue me, even if I were to fill my time doing one thing or another – plus, I’d be too broke to do much anyways. I mean, my bank account was practically weeping after all the flights and activities I had just splurged on for my upcoming trip. So, I had to make some cash.
And so, I started sending out my resume to a bunch of hospitals, clinics, and dive shops. It was an absolutely hilarious, schizophrenic exercise. In one tab, I was drafting these overly formal, sterile emails to clinical directors, outlining my medical competencies and clinical experience. In the next tab, I was shooting off messages to salty dive center owners, basically saying, ‘Hey, I can haul heavy tanks, babysit panicked tourists, and I wanna spend every waking hour underwater.’
To work as a DM or an MD, that was the question. Whilst working as a doctor would be the most logical, financially sound option, the call of the sea had already made me do the unthinkable. I was legitimately considering turning down a cushy, well-paying locum gig just so I could get paid peanuts to be a glorified underwater tour guide. But man, the ocean just does that to you. The thought of trading my scrubs for a wetsuit, even just for a few more months, was intoxicating.
And so, once again, I found myself at yet another crossroads in my life. The responsible adult path or the rogue, salty dive bum path? But you know what? That too would have to wait, cause I was about to embark on yet another adventure. My next trip was calling, and I wasn’t gonna let a silly little thing like career anxiety ruin my trip.