When I saw the international area code for Japan on my cell phone, I hoped it was Dr. Tetsuji Okuno—and it was.
It was difficult for him to fully express himself in English, but his tone was so sincere, he touched my heart and convinced me to visit him.
When I brought up all the practical considerations of moving my family to Yokohama, he told me it was all possible—and we should discuss the details in person.
A few days later, I received an email from Dr. Okuno saying that his colleague Mr. Shinro Takahashi would be visiting New York in the middle of October—and that I should accompany him back to Japan at the end of October. I could meet Dr. Okuno, learn about his cancer research and treatment clinic Clinica E.T., discuss his plans for international expansion and come to an agreement regarding my terms of employment.
I was overwhelmed by the invitation and started to imagine a new life in Yokohama and a new career in health care management. Health care was one of the industries least affected by the global economic crisis—and helping in the fight against cancer was a great motivation. Using the Internet, I started to learn as much as I could about endovascular therapy and anti-angiogenesis.
Although most of my family thought I was out of my mind, my career coach Paloma Bowland thought it was a great opportunity. “Unfortunately,” she said, “cancer treatment and cancer research are a growing market.” She suggested that if I were truly looking for job stability in the coming years of economic challenge, I should give the opportunity some serious thought.
My father was also encouraging. He believed living abroad would be educational for the children. He also recalled the wonderful night he had spent in Yokohama when he was in the army. He had been drafted into the Korean War and dispatched to the Philippines. After two weeks at sea, his ship had landed in the port of Yokohama and all the soldiers had gone on shore leave for some much needed rest and relaxation. For the equivalent of fifty cents, he had enjoyed a fine cut of Kobe beef and a tall glass of Kirin beer. After two weeks of unsavory sea rations, he had been more than pleased. “In fact,” he said. “It is one of my fondest memories of the war.”
Somewhat coincidently, my in-laws’ neighbor in Omaha—Sam Cohen—was a world-renowned cancer research specialist who frequently visited Japan.
I gave him a call—and after doing a little research, he told me that Dr. Okuno had a good reputation and successful clinic but was also considered somewhat of a maverick. He had left the mainstream medical community to follow his own path of research and treatment. Only time would tell whether his work would be dismissed—or if he would be recognized as a genius and win a Noble Prize.
That was confirmation enough for me. The more I thought about it, the more I was intrigued and wanted to accept Dr. Okuno’s invitation. At worst it would be an adventurous journey to the other side of the world. At best, it would be the opportunity of a lifetime.
After much introspection, I wrote to Dr. Okuno, accepted his invitation and asked for a more firm itinerary.
No sooner had I accepted Dr. Okuno’s invitation, when I received a call from Richelle Konian, an executive recruiter with whom I had been in touch for over five years. We had been emailing each other regularly over the course of the summer, starting a couple of months before my sign board publicity. She said she had an opportunity for me in the valuations group at a large midtown accounting firm.
When I expressed strong interest, she said she would forward my resume and told me I should expect an interview with the hiring manager. She said she had enjoyed my publicity and blog—and the hiring manager was looking for someone who could write. “I think it’s a perfect match,” she said.
It’s amazing how events sometimes unfold.
A few days later, I had an encouraging interview with the Director of Valuation and Corporate Finance at a large New York accounting firm—and simultaneously firmed up my plans to visit Dr. Okuno in Yokohama at the end of October.
I did not tell the valuations director or executive recruiter about my planned trip to Japan—or tell Dr. Okuno about my job possibility in New York, because I did not know which, if either, would work out. Both opportunities seemed fantastic.
Go for someone who makes you smile because it takes only a smile to make a dark day seem bright.
Posted by: moncler jackets | February 15, 2012 at 05:27 PM