Saturday, August 02, 2014

Hot Town, Summer in the City

A very brief review of the year in photos (mostly from the hospital).



Winter's Snopacalypse.


Summer (Not in the hospital, obviously).

July has come and gone in the blink of an eye, much like the first year of residency.  I cannot believe how time has marched. Some days were eternities, others were milliseconds. Time is elastic.

I'm sitting alone in the resident room at the hospital, covering the service, staring at the sunny outside, watching pigeons stroll by the window and check me out.  Somewhere in Seattle, Winning Run and kiddo are playing outside getting ready for the audible assault of the Seafair Airshow's Blue Angels. I'm typing this and hoping for a quiet afternoon which, by simply typing that phrase (or even thinking it), is unlikely.

So, the calendar has ticked over and I'm now in the second year of residency.  I've been through the gauntlet of intern year's ridiculous inpatient schedule.  I've wandered like a zombie through the hospital halls, exhausted, hungry, wasting away, doing my best to keep it together and earn the confidence of those around me.  On some days, this work (like any) can seem so effortless, so second nature; on others, however, every moment seems foreign, terrifying, unfamiliar.

I'm still trying to process the year, still battling against the fatigue that has accumulated, still trying to scrape the bottom of the barrel in order to offer up something of myself when I make it home. A colleague and I were talking about whether we'd do this over again knowing what we now know and I'm uncertain of my answer but am leaning toward "Hell no."  

One thing's for sure, though, I can endure. Hell, I have endured and, perhaps, maybe even thrived. This experience of being a doc is unparalleled. I have the honor of seeing so much that many folks can't even imagine. In some ways, there's the hook that keeps you coming back.  "First one's free, kid."

Two months of inpatient family medicine, two months of inpatient internal medicine, one month of inpatient obstetrics, one month of inpatient pediatrics, one month of emergency medicine: these things add up! I'm happy to have them in the rearview and happier still to be more comfortable in hairy situations. I do, however, look forward to more time in the outpatient world, in my clinic, and, of course, with Winning Run and kiddo who will be three (!!!) in a few months.  

March on, time, march on.

Wednesday, February 05, 2014

Snopacalypse 2014

Obviously, I'm no longer in the southeast.  As a result, I've missed the most recent snowpacalypse that laid waste to traffic in GA.  Seems that friends and family from Atlanta all have horror stories of how bad everything was.  Glad I didn't have to be a part of it.

My folks let me know that they had broken out the snowshoes and decided to traipse around.  Although I'm not sure that less than 3 inches of snow really qualifies as an adequate base for using said snowshoes, they had a good time.  At the risk of alienating them (or angering them), I received the following image from their jaunt and thought I'd share.

I've never been snowshoeing and don't claim to be an expert but something seems a little odd about the photo.  Mom might be doing it wrong.

Wait, It's February?

Unbelievably, it's February.  I'm on the downhill side of my black weekend (where you are on call on a Saturday and need to work post-call on Sunday) and am looking forward to having a day off on Saturday, two more days of work and then 24 hours off! I've been at it for two straight months; first, on an internal medicine service and, now, on an inpatient family medicine service. Up at 4:30, in by 5:45, rounding by 7:30, home in the late PM. Wash. Rinse. Repeat. Day. After day. After. Day. Sick patients in, get them better, they come back. Rewarded for efficient work with more work.  

Again, my main advice is never do heroin.  And don't have the shitty misfortune to have a severe mental illness because you'll be marginalized to the edges of society, fail to make good decisions about your health care, will fail to consistently take your medication, will be victim to your mental illness which will lead you ultimately to heroin which, once more, you should never, ever, ever do.

I. Am. So. Tired.

Speaking of not doing heroin:  PSH, RIP.  My money has it that last words were "I'm a *** idiot."