Isn't it amazing how one little thing can change your entire prospective. It is no huge secret that I haven't been in the best of Holiday spirits. I am in another new city . . . trying to figure out my job . . . getting to know people . . . and seeing Santa walk around in shorts and a T-shirt. Until yesterday, I just wanted the entire thing to be over.
Then, the unexpected happened. I received the BEST Christmas present. . . notification that I passed the written portion of my Thoracic boards. Since I was almost certain that I would be taking them again next year, I was very pleasantly surprised. Happy is not even an adequate word to describe how great I feel right now. Bring on the decorated palm trees, I am now officially in the Spirit.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Nostalgia for days past
I am just going to say it - I miss the pre -80 hour work week. For those of you who don't know, a few years ago, the federal government established limits and conditions on resident work weeks. (Of course this happened after it would really affect my resident life, but I digress.) The theory was to improve patient safety, and the working conditions of the last legal group of indentured servants. The theory has met with some serious reality.
I am not morally opposed, as many of my colleagues are, by big brothers interference. I am a liberal - we like big brother. Sometimes big brother is necessary to help us see the big picture. There are many ridiculous things that I did as a resident simply because my senior level resident or attending had to do "it" when they were in my shoes. These tasks contributed absolutely nothing to my education. I am not opposed to residents having lives. I don't begrudge them a life just because I never had one. Nor am I convinced that not sleeping for days on end really made me a better surgeon. (I am convinced that it directly contributed to the lovely bags under my eyes.) However, there were some very important lessons that I learned that I fear are now being missed.
Lesson One: Patient Responsibility - I learned VERY early in my training (my first week when Bassam yelled at me for not replacing a patient's potassium) that I had a direct contribution to my patient's well-being. It was made very clear to me that every i had to be dotted and every t crossed to insure that my patients left the hospital alive. I was taught that this is a very sacred responsibility that had to be taken seriously It could not be ignored because I was tired, wanted to go home, or had been up all night.
Lesson Two: Camaraderie - For better or worse, I spent way more time with my fellow residents than I did with everyone else in my life combined. Did we argue, fight and basically get on each other's nerves? Absolutely!!! However, we also laughed, talked, commiserated, and all knew at the end of the day who had our backs. We were in the trenches together, and trying to get as many of us as possible out the other side alive. To this day, some of my closest friends were made in those trenches. (Even Bassam who yelled and made me cry.)
Lesson Three: Satisfaction of a job well done - My trainer keeps telling me that it is good that I am sore after our workouts. She cites this as evidence of a productive work-out. Was I a little "sore" after my surgical training. Sure, but I walked away feeling that I actually accomplished something. I knew more than how to operate - I knew how to care for patients. I never want to go through it again, but I wouldn't take anything for the memories that I have of that time.
Lesson Four: The benefit of watching others - When I was walking to school up hill both ways in the snow, we would come in hours early to get our work done so that we could go to the operating room and scrub into a case. We were usually the second or third assistant standing somewhere behind the medical student, but we were there and ultimately that was all that mattered. The lesson you ask? Many. I learned patience. If you stood there enough, you would eventually get to do something. Preparedness. If you could correctly answer a question about the patient or the case, a reward usually followed. Technique. I will simply say that it astounds me for anyone to think they can do a procedure regardless of how simple it is having never seen it.
Lesson Five: Work ethic - There is something in knowing that you cannot go home until the work is complete. It puts a little extra drive to actually accomplish tasks. You really do try a little harder. You also learn that life isn't fair, and that being on call for the fourth straight Christmas sucks, but it doesn't kill you.
I could go on, but I have to go to a meeting with the general surgery residency coordinator. The "CT" service has had a complaint from a first year resident about the "working conditions". Therefore, the girl who has only been here for 2 months gets to go defend the "system".
I am not morally opposed, as many of my colleagues are, by big brothers interference. I am a liberal - we like big brother. Sometimes big brother is necessary to help us see the big picture. There are many ridiculous things that I did as a resident simply because my senior level resident or attending had to do "it" when they were in my shoes. These tasks contributed absolutely nothing to my education. I am not opposed to residents having lives. I don't begrudge them a life just because I never had one. Nor am I convinced that not sleeping for days on end really made me a better surgeon. (I am convinced that it directly contributed to the lovely bags under my eyes.) However, there were some very important lessons that I learned that I fear are now being missed.
Lesson One: Patient Responsibility - I learned VERY early in my training (my first week when Bassam yelled at me for not replacing a patient's potassium) that I had a direct contribution to my patient's well-being. It was made very clear to me that every i had to be dotted and every t crossed to insure that my patients left the hospital alive. I was taught that this is a very sacred responsibility that had to be taken seriously It could not be ignored because I was tired, wanted to go home, or had been up all night.
Lesson Two: Camaraderie - For better or worse, I spent way more time with my fellow residents than I did with everyone else in my life combined. Did we argue, fight and basically get on each other's nerves? Absolutely!!! However, we also laughed, talked, commiserated, and all knew at the end of the day who had our backs. We were in the trenches together, and trying to get as many of us as possible out the other side alive. To this day, some of my closest friends were made in those trenches. (Even Bassam who yelled and made me cry.)
Lesson Three: Satisfaction of a job well done - My trainer keeps telling me that it is good that I am sore after our workouts. She cites this as evidence of a productive work-out. Was I a little "sore" after my surgical training. Sure, but I walked away feeling that I actually accomplished something. I knew more than how to operate - I knew how to care for patients. I never want to go through it again, but I wouldn't take anything for the memories that I have of that time.
Lesson Four: The benefit of watching others - When I was walking to school up hill both ways in the snow, we would come in hours early to get our work done so that we could go to the operating room and scrub into a case. We were usually the second or third assistant standing somewhere behind the medical student, but we were there and ultimately that was all that mattered. The lesson you ask? Many. I learned patience. If you stood there enough, you would eventually get to do something. Preparedness. If you could correctly answer a question about the patient or the case, a reward usually followed. Technique. I will simply say that it astounds me for anyone to think they can do a procedure regardless of how simple it is having never seen it.
Lesson Five: Work ethic - There is something in knowing that you cannot go home until the work is complete. It puts a little extra drive to actually accomplish tasks. You really do try a little harder. You also learn that life isn't fair, and that being on call for the fourth straight Christmas sucks, but it doesn't kill you.
I could go on, but I have to go to a meeting with the general surgery residency coordinator. The "CT" service has had a complaint from a first year resident about the "working conditions". Therefore, the girl who has only been here for 2 months gets to go defend the "system".
Monday, December 14, 2009
Brace yourself
Okay everyone take a deep breath and brace yourself. I have some devastating news. Ready? . . . . I have lost the will to shop.
I know this is quite shocking for everyone. I too am still coping with the news. I never thought something like this would happen to me. I did all the right things. I read Glamour and Cosmo. I watched Sex and the City and What Not to Wear. I only watched award shoes to comment on what everyone was wearing. I even got an education so that I could support my habit - (I am missing the gene that says that $800 is too much for a pair of shoes). How did this happen?
I have had slumps in the past. Times where I had to talk myself into the mall. However, once there I always had a good time. Shopping is therapy for me. The simple act of walking through a mall lifts my spirits. I don't even have to purchase anything - although buying helps.
Whatever shall I do? Is there a doctor for this kind of thing? My other therapy is eating - not a good alternative.
I know this is quite shocking for everyone. I too am still coping with the news. I never thought something like this would happen to me. I did all the right things. I read Glamour and Cosmo. I watched Sex and the City and What Not to Wear. I only watched award shoes to comment on what everyone was wearing. I even got an education so that I could support my habit - (I am missing the gene that says that $800 is too much for a pair of shoes). How did this happen?
I have had slumps in the past. Times where I had to talk myself into the mall. However, once there I always had a good time. Shopping is therapy for me. The simple act of walking through a mall lifts my spirits. I don't even have to purchase anything - although buying helps.
Whatever shall I do? Is there a doctor for this kind of thing? My other therapy is eating - not a good alternative.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Well . . .umh. . . actually
A survival technique during residency training is to blatantly and sometimes quite outrageously lie to oneself. The lies start out harmlessly enough. They are simply a way to make it through the call night, but somewhere along the way a problem develops. . . you start to believe them. For example, I convinced myself that once I finished "training" all of my stress would magically disappear. Not sure where I thought it would go, but reality seems to have little basis for the lies I told myself.
I will concede that the stresses certainly changed, but they new ones seem bigger not smaller. Don't get me wrong, I still love what I do and am so excited to finally be doing it "for real". However, the happily ever after - nothing but time on my hands - Utopia I imagined has not come to fruition. Luckily, my mom never told me life is fair, so I have taken this new development with what I feel is reasonable aplomb. I decided to put on my big girl panties and deal. I needed a plan. (Even just the illusion of control is important for me.)
My first step was to prioritize. A clean house if very high on my list. If my house is a mess, it is usually symbolic of a deeper level of disorganization in my life (sorry took one to many English classes on symbolism). It turns out that another priority for me is not being the one to clean it. I have put off hiring cleaning help because I kept thinking of all the better ways to spend the money. As someone out of work for 4 months, I have many areas of my life in need of cash. However, recently I decided buying furniture can wait - not cleaning the bathrooms not so much.
Therefore, my new "cleaning lady" came yesterday. I was supposed to be there to show her around, but it didn't exactly work out as planned - see yesterday's blog. When I finally got home a little after 2 this morning, it was to a spotless place. There was even dinner to warm up in the fridge. She had also left me a note telling me all that she did and asking if there was anything else that I wanted. A few suggestions were offered of additional tasks that she would be happy to perform. One of which was to wrap the pile of presents currently living on my guest bed. Here is the rub - how do you tell a lady that while you are too lazy to clean your own house, your favorite part of Christmas is wrapping presents?
I will concede that the stresses certainly changed, but they new ones seem bigger not smaller. Don't get me wrong, I still love what I do and am so excited to finally be doing it "for real". However, the happily ever after - nothing but time on my hands - Utopia I imagined has not come to fruition. Luckily, my mom never told me life is fair, so I have taken this new development with what I feel is reasonable aplomb. I decided to put on my big girl panties and deal. I needed a plan. (Even just the illusion of control is important for me.)
My first step was to prioritize. A clean house if very high on my list. If my house is a mess, it is usually symbolic of a deeper level of disorganization in my life (sorry took one to many English classes on symbolism). It turns out that another priority for me is not being the one to clean it. I have put off hiring cleaning help because I kept thinking of all the better ways to spend the money. As someone out of work for 4 months, I have many areas of my life in need of cash. However, recently I decided buying furniture can wait - not cleaning the bathrooms not so much.
Therefore, my new "cleaning lady" came yesterday. I was supposed to be there to show her around, but it didn't exactly work out as planned - see yesterday's blog. When I finally got home a little after 2 this morning, it was to a spotless place. There was even dinner to warm up in the fridge. She had also left me a note telling me all that she did and asking if there was anything else that I wanted. A few suggestions were offered of additional tasks that she would be happy to perform. One of which was to wrap the pile of presents currently living on my guest bed. Here is the rub - how do you tell a lady that while you are too lazy to clean your own house, your favorite part of Christmas is wrapping presents?
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Busy career woman seeks wife
No I haven't started batting for the other team, but I have come to a much better understanding of the so called "glass ceiling." I don't think women's failure to advance in traditionally male fields has anything to do with men being unable to "see" women in these roles, and everything to do with women not having wives to run their lives so they can concentrate on work.
For instance, I have a laundry list of life tasks that need to be accomplished - not least of which is actual laundry. I am somehow supposed to perform these things, and yet still spend 12-16 hours a day at the office and be on call every other week. I am willing to throw money at most of my problems, but at the end of the day I actually need to show up for some things - importantly at the moment a hair cut.
I thought I had a solution. I operated yesterday late into the evening so that I didn't have any cases to do today. My plan was to spend the morning catching up on the piles of paperwork that no one warns you about during residency, and take the afternoon off to do some Christmas shopping, get a haircut, go to the dry cleaners, drop some things off at Goodwill, etc etc.
Bet you have already guessed how this story ends. As I was turning off my computer, and telling my AA goodbye my phone rings. We have a transplant and need you to help. The case was supposed to start two hours ago, and yet here I still sit waiting. Number of things accomplished on my list - zero.
All qualified applicants encouraged to apply.
For instance, I have a laundry list of life tasks that need to be accomplished - not least of which is actual laundry. I am somehow supposed to perform these things, and yet still spend 12-16 hours a day at the office and be on call every other week. I am willing to throw money at most of my problems, but at the end of the day I actually need to show up for some things - importantly at the moment a hair cut.
I thought I had a solution. I operated yesterday late into the evening so that I didn't have any cases to do today. My plan was to spend the morning catching up on the piles of paperwork that no one warns you about during residency, and take the afternoon off to do some Christmas shopping, get a haircut, go to the dry cleaners, drop some things off at Goodwill, etc etc.
Bet you have already guessed how this story ends. As I was turning off my computer, and telling my AA goodbye my phone rings. We have a transplant and need you to help. The case was supposed to start two hours ago, and yet here I still sit waiting. Number of things accomplished on my list - zero.
All qualified applicants encouraged to apply.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
OR conversations
At the END of my second case yesterday, I was sitting at the computer filling out the ridiculous amount of paperwork that comes with the title of Attending. My patient was being extubated and moved off the OR table.
All of a sudden the OR nurse comes over to me and says: "you have to help with the move until you are the attending". I reply: "I am the attending". Her response: "Oh, I assumed you were a new fellow or resident".
My question - if the only two people that had scrubbed either of my two cases that day were me and the fellow that the nurse knew - who and more importantly where did she think the attending in charge of the case was?
All of a sudden the OR nurse comes over to me and says: "you have to help with the move until you are the attending". I reply: "I am the attending". Her response: "Oh, I assumed you were a new fellow or resident".
My question - if the only two people that had scrubbed either of my two cases that day were me and the fellow that the nurse knew - who and more importantly where did she think the attending in charge of the case was?
Friday, November 27, 2009
Turkey coma
My sister Susan and cousin Adam came into town for Thanksgiving so I wouldn't have to spend it alone. As the "new" girl, I get to work a lot of Holidays for the next year. I had to round yesterday morning, but was just on call for emergencies afterwards. We decided to have a nice relaxing day at home.
We played games, watched movies, and even got a workout in during the afternoon. Dinner consisted of a great Arugula-Pomegranate salad that I found and all the traditional fare - turkey, sweet potatoes, green beans and cranberry sauce. After dinner, we decided to go for a walk around the island before we had our made from scratch pumpkin pie. It was a beautiful night with clear skies and the perfect temperature.
We came back in and turned on a movie. Honestly, that is the last that I remember. The next thing I know my alarm clock is going off this morning telling me that it is time for work. I would argue that someone slipped something in the turkey, but I am the one that cooked it. Susan and Adam must have dozed off too. The pie still uncut this morning.
We played games, watched movies, and even got a workout in during the afternoon. Dinner consisted of a great Arugula-Pomegranate salad that I found and all the traditional fare - turkey, sweet potatoes, green beans and cranberry sauce. After dinner, we decided to go for a walk around the island before we had our made from scratch pumpkin pie. It was a beautiful night with clear skies and the perfect temperature.
We came back in and turned on a movie. Honestly, that is the last that I remember. The next thing I know my alarm clock is going off this morning telling me that it is time for work. I would argue that someone slipped something in the turkey, but I am the one that cooked it. Susan and Adam must have dozed off too. The pie still uncut this morning.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Monday, November 23, 2009
Surreal Life
I recognize that I live a slightly different life than most, but some days are even odd for me. Yesterday morning, I woke up with the sun. (I had forgotten to close my balcony blinds.) I was sitting on the couch watching a Law and Order rerun thinking about what I was going to wear to church, and the fact that breakfast would have been a lot easier if I had gone to the grocery store when my phone rings.
Phone calls before 8 am aren't usually from friends saying hello. True to form - it was the transplant coordinator. We had an offer for heart/lungs and I was needed to go out for the procurement. I said okay, and started to replan my day in my head. Usually, you hear about transplants hours before you actually leave to go anywhere. Not so much this time. I was asked if I could be at the hospital ready to leave within 30 minutes. After a shower that only included the necessities, I headed off to the hospital.
When I arrive, I ask the perfusionist where we are going to harvest. Puerto Rico he answers. Well, that is different. We jump aboard our little plane and head off to Puerto Rico. A quick word about little planes. Luckily, flying has never bothered me, even on these tiny 4-6 seater planes that we take on harvest. The scary part to me is being able to see and talk to the pilot while he is flying the plane. There are some things I would rather not see and know. For instance, we had been in the air about 15 minutes yesterday when I see the pilot pull out a map. He and the copilot are looking intently at the map and then out their windows. I am not sure I like knowing that we might be lost at 40,000 feet.
We finally arrived in Puerto Rico and headed off to the hospital. I scrub in to take a look at the heart and lungs and realise that I am the only person at the table that speaks English. I am told that theoretically everyone in PR learns English in school. I think they learn English about like I learned Spanish - not at all. Thankfully, some things are universal and we worked it out. We get our organs and headed home. All in all it took 20 hours, but it was a unique experience even for my life.
Phone calls before 8 am aren't usually from friends saying hello. True to form - it was the transplant coordinator. We had an offer for heart/lungs and I was needed to go out for the procurement. I said okay, and started to replan my day in my head. Usually, you hear about transplants hours before you actually leave to go anywhere. Not so much this time. I was asked if I could be at the hospital ready to leave within 30 minutes. After a shower that only included the necessities, I headed off to the hospital.
When I arrive, I ask the perfusionist where we are going to harvest. Puerto Rico he answers. Well, that is different. We jump aboard our little plane and head off to Puerto Rico. A quick word about little planes. Luckily, flying has never bothered me, even on these tiny 4-6 seater planes that we take on harvest. The scary part to me is being able to see and talk to the pilot while he is flying the plane. There are some things I would rather not see and know. For instance, we had been in the air about 15 minutes yesterday when I see the pilot pull out a map. He and the copilot are looking intently at the map and then out their windows. I am not sure I like knowing that we might be lost at 40,000 feet.
We finally arrived in Puerto Rico and headed off to the hospital. I scrub in to take a look at the heart and lungs and realise that I am the only person at the table that speaks English. I am told that theoretically everyone in PR learns English in school. I think they learn English about like I learned Spanish - not at all. Thankfully, some things are universal and we worked it out. We get our organs and headed home. All in all it took 20 hours, but it was a unique experience even for my life.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Treading water
According to lore - when thrown into the deep end, one is supposed to sink of swim. Is it okay if one just treads water for a while? Shouldn't you take the time to acclimate to the water temperature, figure out which side of the pool is closer, and even if you want to be in the pool.
My plan involves simply staying afloat for the next 12 days. If I still want to live after taking my boards, I will attempt to swim to the side of the pool at that time. My plan seems perfectly logical to me, but you have to recall that I am the girl in the pool trying to stay afloat.
My plan involves simply staying afloat for the next 12 days. If I still want to live after taking my boards, I will attempt to swim to the side of the pool at that time. My plan seems perfectly logical to me, but you have to recall that I am the girl in the pool trying to stay afloat.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Random Thoughts
My mom sent this to me, and I liked it so much that I am reprinting here. Not sure to whom it is attributed, but guessing a woman.
* Part of a best friend's job should be to immediately clear your computer history if you die
* Nothing sucks more than the moment during an argument when you realize you are wrong
* I totally take back all those times I didn't want to nap when I was younger
* There is a great need for a sarcasm font
* How are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet
* Was learning cursive really necessary
* MapQuest really needs to start their directions at #5 - pretty sure I know how to get out of my own neighborhood
* Obituaries would be more interesting if they told you HOW the person died
* I can't remember the last time I wasn't at least kind of tired
* Bad decisions make the best stories
* You never know when it will strike, but there comes a moment at work when you know that you just aren't going to do anything productive for the rest of the day
* Can we all just agree to ignore whatever comes after Blue Ray - I don't want to have to restart my collection . . .again
* I'm always slightly terrified when I exit out of Word and it asks me if I want to save changes to a ten page document that I did not make any changes to
* Do not not machine wash means that I will never wash this - - ever
* I hate leaving my house confident and looking good only then to not see anyone of importance for the entire day
* I keep some people's numbers in my phone just so I know not to answer when they call
* I disagree with Kay Jewelers - - I would bet on any given Friday night, more kisses begin with beer than with Kay
* Part of a best friend's job should be to immediately clear your computer history if you die
* Nothing sucks more than the moment during an argument when you realize you are wrong
* I totally take back all those times I didn't want to nap when I was younger
* There is a great need for a sarcasm font
* How are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet
* Was learning cursive really necessary
* MapQuest really needs to start their directions at #5 - pretty sure I know how to get out of my own neighborhood
* Obituaries would be more interesting if they told you HOW the person died
* I can't remember the last time I wasn't at least kind of tired
* Bad decisions make the best stories
* You never know when it will strike, but there comes a moment at work when you know that you just aren't going to do anything productive for the rest of the day
* Can we all just agree to ignore whatever comes after Blue Ray - I don't want to have to restart my collection . . .again
* I'm always slightly terrified when I exit out of Word and it asks me if I want to save changes to a ten page document that I did not make any changes to
* Do not not machine wash means that I will never wash this - - ever
* I hate leaving my house confident and looking good only then to not see anyone of importance for the entire day
* I keep some people's numbers in my phone just so I know not to answer when they call
* I disagree with Kay Jewelers - - I would bet on any given Friday night, more kisses begin with beer than with Kay
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Bored of boards
In high school, I had the SATs so I could get into a good college. In college, it was the MCATs so I could get into a good medical school. During medical school is was the USMLEs (3 different steps) so that you could get a good residency. During surgery training, it was the general surgery boards (two parts - a written and oral) so that I could get a good fellowship. Now the Thoracic boards (again two parts), so that I can keep my license and job.
Things I know for sure: the tests keep getting harder, longer, more expensive and with more risk on the line. The other thing I know for sure: I am SICK OF TAKING TESTS!
Things I know for sure: the tests keep getting harder, longer, more expensive and with more risk on the line. The other thing I know for sure: I am SICK OF TAKING TESTS!
Monday, November 9, 2009
A Monkey?
I have been getting variations of the same experience for the past 10 years - including twice this morning already. Even after all of this time, I am not sure how exactly to respond. When I first meet new patients, or in the case of this morning, new fellow doctors, I often hear: "I wasn't expecting a woman". What exactly does one say to this? I usually ignore it completely, but some little imp inside of me always wants me to say: "were you expecting a monkey?"
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Throwing in the towel
I have argued here before that I don't think women can have it all. I haven't changed my mind, but forget "all" - I would settle for being able to manage a quarter of it. For the last 10 years, I blamed being a resident for my not having a life. I had such plans for my "non-resident" life. I was going to have so much free time to do things and travel. Wrong.
Where was I planning to acquire this time? I have no idea. My days are still generally 11-14 hrs long, and I am still "slow" at work. I do good to go to the gym and have dinner before it is time for bed. I guess you could argue that I sleep less, but I am only getting 6 or 7 hours as it is. I am currently living for the weekend "off". During these 48 hours off I need to unpack the rest of my belongings that were delivered yesterday, do laundry, go to grocery store, clean my apartment, and study for my boards which are happening in 3 weeks.
How do you mom's do it?
Where was I planning to acquire this time? I have no idea. My days are still generally 11-14 hrs long, and I am still "slow" at work. I do good to go to the gym and have dinner before it is time for bed. I guess you could argue that I sleep less, but I am only getting 6 or 7 hours as it is. I am currently living for the weekend "off". During these 48 hours off I need to unpack the rest of my belongings that were delivered yesterday, do laundry, go to grocery store, clean my apartment, and study for my boards which are happening in 3 weeks.
How do you mom's do it?
Sunday, November 1, 2009
The difference a day (or an hour) makes
If at anytime during the last 10 years you told me that I would complain about having to be at work at 7 am, I would have told you to slap me when it happened. I mean from where I came, seven is a luxury. However, I have seriously struggled getting out of bed these past few weeks. I blamed it on the darkness, but was secretly afraid that I had become just that weak.
My fears were laid to rest when my eyes popped open this morning. I felt rested and ready to get up. The amazing part - it was 5:30 am. The great part - the sun was already up. I know that I might feel differently if I had children, but I would MUCH rather have sun in the morning than sun in the evening. Light outside makes it so much easier for me to get out of bed. Now I just have to remember that just because it is dark outside doesn't mean that I can go to bed at 6pm.
My fears were laid to rest when my eyes popped open this morning. I felt rested and ready to get up. The amazing part - it was 5:30 am. The great part - the sun was already up. I know that I might feel differently if I had children, but I would MUCH rather have sun in the morning than sun in the evening. Light outside makes it so much easier for me to get out of bed. Now I just have to remember that just because it is dark outside doesn't mean that I can go to bed at 6pm.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Masochist or just stupid?
I started working with my trainer this week. We met for the first time on Tuesday. She told me we would spend the first few weeks on basics. She wants to stress form while she gets to know me and my limits. I can only schedule twice a week predictably, so we are doing full body work-outs each time.
We did an hour on Tuesday. The first time that I have worked out my muscles in almost 18 months. The worst part for me as always was the ab exercises. Keri (that's my trainer) gave me lots of encouragement, made sure that I wasn't cheating, and let me feel that I was actually accomplishing something. She told me to expect to be very sore on Wednesday, but to work through it by running. I could tell that I had worked out on Wednesday, but in all honesty I have been more sore from bad OR days.
My second work-out was last night. Friday's are easy to book in this town - everyone else has a life and no desire to be at the gym. Keri asked me how I felt after the last workout. This is where I made my fatal error - I told the truth. I knew that it was a mistake the moment I saw the light twinkle in her eye. She had already been way to excited to learn that I had just finished my residency. I think that just means she knows that I am used to being abused and take it well. She then proceeded to beat the crap out of me for the next hour. Getting dressed this morning for work required sitting down to put on my skirt - I couldn't lift my legs high enough. I can barely lift my arms high enough to type this blog. However, I did run today. . . not my fastest time ever, but I did it so that has to count for something.
We did an hour on Tuesday. The first time that I have worked out my muscles in almost 18 months. The worst part for me as always was the ab exercises. Keri (that's my trainer) gave me lots of encouragement, made sure that I wasn't cheating, and let me feel that I was actually accomplishing something. She told me to expect to be very sore on Wednesday, but to work through it by running. I could tell that I had worked out on Wednesday, but in all honesty I have been more sore from bad OR days.
My second work-out was last night. Friday's are easy to book in this town - everyone else has a life and no desire to be at the gym. Keri asked me how I felt after the last workout. This is where I made my fatal error - I told the truth. I knew that it was a mistake the moment I saw the light twinkle in her eye. She had already been way to excited to learn that I had just finished my residency. I think that just means she knows that I am used to being abused and take it well. She then proceeded to beat the crap out of me for the next hour. Getting dressed this morning for work required sitting down to put on my skirt - I couldn't lift my legs high enough. I can barely lift my arms high enough to type this blog. However, I did run today. . . not my fastest time ever, but I did it so that has to count for something.
Friday, October 30, 2009
I need a hug
Have you ever had one of those weeks where you can't put your finger on any one thing that went horribly wrong, but yet you finish the week feeling like you were run over by a bus? I am having one of those weeks, and would really like to get the name of the bus driver than ran me down.
The funny thing - when one really big thing goes wrong, I can usually shrug it off and move on. I tell myself that not everything can go my way and that I should just get over it. It is much harder for me when it is a lot of things - even if they are all individually very small. I go to this place where the whole world is out to get me, and things will never again go my way. (I've never denied being overly dramatic.)
I know in my head that this is just an unusually crappy week. I just have trouble selling it to my heart. It usually helps to get munchkin time, but I can't convince Kris to send Matt and Grace down - some nonsense about school or such. Oh well, I have the weekend to recover - or not. We get an extra hour this weekend so to carry on a 10 year tradition - I am on call.
The funny thing - when one really big thing goes wrong, I can usually shrug it off and move on. I tell myself that not everything can go my way and that I should just get over it. It is much harder for me when it is a lot of things - even if they are all individually very small. I go to this place where the whole world is out to get me, and things will never again go my way. (I've never denied being overly dramatic.)
I know in my head that this is just an unusually crappy week. I just have trouble selling it to my heart. It usually helps to get munchkin time, but I can't convince Kris to send Matt and Grace down - some nonsense about school or such. Oh well, I have the weekend to recover - or not. We get an extra hour this weekend so to carry on a 10 year tradition - I am on call.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Great personality?
I have been reading a little about investing and retirement planning. I have spent my entire resident life living paycheck to paycheck. I want to make sure that I make good decisions now that I potentially have a little extra money, and don't spend it all on shoes and clothes.
I ran across a quote last night that made me smile. It is attributed to Sophie Tucker.
From birth to age eighteen a girl needs good parents. From eighteen to thirty-five she needs good looks. From thirty-five to fifty-five she needs a good personality. From fifty-five on she needs cash.
Time to work on the personality.
I ran across a quote last night that made me smile. It is attributed to Sophie Tucker.
From birth to age eighteen a girl needs good parents. From eighteen to thirty-five she needs good looks. From thirty-five to fifty-five she needs a good personality. From fifty-five on she needs cash.
Time to work on the personality.
Friday, October 23, 2009
And I paid for this?
One of the to do's on my "getting a real life" list was hiring a trainer. I want flat abs, but if I can't have them at least give me a little muscle definition somewhere. I am not asking for miracles (I know exactly how old I am) - I just want to be able to show that some effort went into the way I look.
I have a workout room in my condo building, but it is always empty. I prefer that feeling of shared sweat and pain that you get from a busy gym. I also figured it would be easier to meet with a trainer. I did some research, and decided to splurge a bit and join Equinox. In reality, it is not a huge splurge because they give a fairly sizable discount for doctors (who knew that would come in useful someday). The main reason that I picked Equinox is that the trainers there have great reputations - it helped that it is incredibly pretty and located next door to a Jimmy Choo store.
I had my Equifit test this morning. Basically, you meet with you trainer and she/he tests to see how out of shape you really are. They do weight, BMI, body fat percentage, flexibility, strength and VO2 max tests. The theory is to track your improvement in 6-8 weeks. Let's just say I have a lot room for improvement.
My problem areas according to my trainer: body fat percentage of a 50 year old woman, flexibility of a 90 year old man, weak lower back and lower extremities, and asymmetrical upper extremity strength (rt MUCH stronger than lt). This getting a real life stuff is more depressing than I thought.
I have a workout room in my condo building, but it is always empty. I prefer that feeling of shared sweat and pain that you get from a busy gym. I also figured it would be easier to meet with a trainer. I did some research, and decided to splurge a bit and join Equinox. In reality, it is not a huge splurge because they give a fairly sizable discount for doctors (who knew that would come in useful someday). The main reason that I picked Equinox is that the trainers there have great reputations - it helped that it is incredibly pretty and located next door to a Jimmy Choo store.
I had my Equifit test this morning. Basically, you meet with you trainer and she/he tests to see how out of shape you really are. They do weight, BMI, body fat percentage, flexibility, strength and VO2 max tests. The theory is to track your improvement in 6-8 weeks. Let's just say I have a lot room for improvement.
My problem areas according to my trainer: body fat percentage of a 50 year old woman, flexibility of a 90 year old man, weak lower back and lower extremities, and asymmetrical upper extremity strength (rt MUCH stronger than lt). This getting a real life stuff is more depressing than I thought.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Rusty
After almost four months off work, I knew that I would be a little "rusty". My friends kept telling me that it would be in the OR, and everyone felt sorry for my first patient. Oddly, it wasn't the OR that concerned me. I was more concerned about getting back into the rhythm of the hospital
My concerns were valid. I had my first case on Monday. Although it was incredibly stressful being the one ultimately responsible, I didn't feel rusty. The OR has always been a place of comfort for me, and thankfully it was no different. Put me in gloves and had me a scalpel and life is good for me. The bigger problem that I have had is all the stuff outside of the OR.
I am struggling getting back into a rhythm with the patient. I have always felt that I had a fairly good bedside manner. I was either wrong, or it has temporarily deserted me. I have yet to feel that special connection with patients that I always enjoyed. I am also struggling figuring out this whole Attending no longer a resident thing. It is a weird line to walk.
The saddest area of "rustiness" - early mornings. For the past 12 years, early mornings were a fact of life for me. I even thought that I had turned into a morning person. Wrong! Four months of getting up at seven and having a slow start to the day have ruined me. It doesn't help that the sun doesn't even rise until 7:30. I literally live on the East coast - shouldn't the sun get up with me?
Oh well, time to get back into shape - in more ways than one.
My concerns were valid. I had my first case on Monday. Although it was incredibly stressful being the one ultimately responsible, I didn't feel rusty. The OR has always been a place of comfort for me, and thankfully it was no different. Put me in gloves and had me a scalpel and life is good for me. The bigger problem that I have had is all the stuff outside of the OR.
I am struggling getting back into a rhythm with the patient. I have always felt that I had a fairly good bedside manner. I was either wrong, or it has temporarily deserted me. I have yet to feel that special connection with patients that I always enjoyed. I am also struggling figuring out this whole Attending no longer a resident thing. It is a weird line to walk.
The saddest area of "rustiness" - early mornings. For the past 12 years, early mornings were a fact of life for me. I even thought that I had turned into a morning person. Wrong! Four months of getting up at seven and having a slow start to the day have ruined me. It doesn't help that the sun doesn't even rise until 7:30. I literally live on the East coast - shouldn't the sun get up with me?
Oh well, time to get back into shape - in more ways than one.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Fear
I have my first case as the Attending physician tomorrow - two cases actually. Four months ago, I wouldn't have thought either was a big deal. In fact, for the past several years my cases for tomorrow wouldn't have even gotten me to the operating room. They are without a doubt junior resident cases.
Since nothing else going on tomorrow, my Thoracic fellow (way more dedicated than I might have been) is planning to show up to do the cases. Let's recap. I have two relatively simple cases that I have personally performed hundreds of times with an experienced resident. My question - why am I scared to death?
Since nothing else going on tomorrow, my Thoracic fellow (way more dedicated than I might have been) is planning to show up to do the cases. Let's recap. I have two relatively simple cases that I have personally performed hundreds of times with an experienced resident. My question - why am I scared to death?
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
No Prince Charming for Me
The glass slipper no longer fits - for that matter, neither do the blue paisley heels, the red open toe heels, or the black patent leather flats. I have spent the last 3 1/2 months either in flip flops, running shoes or barefoot. It didn't occur to me that there would be consequences. I was just going for comfort.
Last week, my play time ceased. In the real working world, they frown on flip flops - even here in South Florida. As many of you know, I have a "couple" of pairs of shoes. Like most girls who have struggled with weight, shoes were always something I could buy and feel good about. Regardless of the scale, I was always a 7 1/2 medium. I say was because something seems to have happened to my foot. I put on a shoe, and it feels fine when I leave the house, but after 8 hours at work they have transformed into torture devices. Now each morning has become a game of which shoe hurts my existing blisters the least, and where are the new blisters going to pop up.
These are not new shoes. These are not shoes that I haven't previously worn to the hospital hundreds of times. These are shoes that I normally spent hours in walking around the hospital at unnaturally fast speeds for a girl my height. Currently, these shoes hurt to sit in all day. What happened? Did my feet grow? Horror of horrors - did they get fat? This is so unfair. It is common knowledge that your foot really does grow during pregnancy (has something to do with hormones released that loosen your pelvis), but no one told me that taking 3 months off would cause my feet to grow. I am choosing to believe that my feet have grown "soft" with all the vacation, and just need to toughen back up. Hope with me, because I REALLY love my shoes.
Last week, my play time ceased. In the real working world, they frown on flip flops - even here in South Florida. As many of you know, I have a "couple" of pairs of shoes. Like most girls who have struggled with weight, shoes were always something I could buy and feel good about. Regardless of the scale, I was always a 7 1/2 medium. I say was because something seems to have happened to my foot. I put on a shoe, and it feels fine when I leave the house, but after 8 hours at work they have transformed into torture devices. Now each morning has become a game of which shoe hurts my existing blisters the least, and where are the new blisters going to pop up.
These are not new shoes. These are not shoes that I haven't previously worn to the hospital hundreds of times. These are shoes that I normally spent hours in walking around the hospital at unnaturally fast speeds for a girl my height. Currently, these shoes hurt to sit in all day. What happened? Did my feet grow? Horror of horrors - did they get fat? This is so unfair. It is common knowledge that your foot really does grow during pregnancy (has something to do with hormones released that loosen your pelvis), but no one told me that taking 3 months off would cause my feet to grow. I am choosing to believe that my feet have grown "soft" with all the vacation, and just need to toughen back up. Hope with me, because I REALLY love my shoes.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Baxter Health Care Plan
Every time I turn on the news these days, all of the talk is about health care. Unfortunately, we seem a little short on plans and a lot long on opposition. As a member of the health care industry, I sincerely hope we as a country don't let this opportunity pass. However, in the meantime, I thought I would offer up my own health care plan.
My plan has very little to do with such silly things as insurance companies, payees, payers, preexisting conditions, and the uninsured. My plan focuses only on Physicians. That's right, it is all about me. For two days now, I have spent what felt like an inordinate amount of time sitting in classrooms. So far, I have learned how to dictate. [If you are thinking, doesn't that just involve talking into a phone? You would be correct. Irony of ironies, I still have another "class" on dictation to go.] I have learned how to use two different versions of an electronic medical record (EMR), and my schedule this week is littered with 7 more computer systems - one more version of an EMR, three versions of computerized order entry (COE), and three versions of electronic radiology viewing (PACS). I haven't even included the VA yet.
This brings me to step one of my plan. "We" should all get together and come up with one version of the EMR, COE and PACS. When I started training, we wrote notes and orders on paper and had hard copies of X-rays. I am not one of the diehards that thinks we should go back to those days, but every hospital even within the same system surely doesn't need a different EMR, COE and PACS. The VA actually led the charge in the "paperless" charting world. The same system is used in every VA in the country. The truly great thing - all the different VA systems "talk" to each other. I can access here in South Florida the operative report for a surgery my patient had at the VA in Alaska. Isn't it a little embarrassing that the VA is ahead of the "civilian" sector?
Also on my schedule this week is not one, but two coding meetings. I have already completed three hours of computerized modules, but now I guess they want to test me in person to make sure I learned something. As a medical student and resident, you learn that chart documentation should be a clear and concise story of what is wrong with your patient, and how you plan to remedy the situation. As an attending, you learn that chart documentation is a legal tightrope of three choices from column A and two choices from column B with careful attention to include certain "key" words so that you don't get charged with insurance fraud.
Step two of my plan, take physicians out of the billing altogether. We the physicians should go back to clear and concise stories followed by well-developed plans. We should not be thinking about including documentation about length of time spent with patient or pertinent ROS. The only key words should be those pertaining to the health and care of my patient. We should do the job we were trained to do, and leave the business aspect to business people.
I concede that it is a relatively simple plan. It includes no "pork" and I have consulted with no lobbyist. I haven't vetted it through the Congressional Budget Office, and am fairly certain that it will not save a single penny. However, the peace of mind to physicians - priceless.
My plan has very little to do with such silly things as insurance companies, payees, payers, preexisting conditions, and the uninsured. My plan focuses only on Physicians. That's right, it is all about me. For two days now, I have spent what felt like an inordinate amount of time sitting in classrooms. So far, I have learned how to dictate. [If you are thinking, doesn't that just involve talking into a phone? You would be correct. Irony of ironies, I still have another "class" on dictation to go.] I have learned how to use two different versions of an electronic medical record (EMR), and my schedule this week is littered with 7 more computer systems - one more version of an EMR, three versions of computerized order entry (COE), and three versions of electronic radiology viewing (PACS). I haven't even included the VA yet.
This brings me to step one of my plan. "We" should all get together and come up with one version of the EMR, COE and PACS. When I started training, we wrote notes and orders on paper and had hard copies of X-rays. I am not one of the diehards that thinks we should go back to those days, but every hospital even within the same system surely doesn't need a different EMR, COE and PACS. The VA actually led the charge in the "paperless" charting world. The same system is used in every VA in the country. The truly great thing - all the different VA systems "talk" to each other. I can access here in South Florida the operative report for a surgery my patient had at the VA in Alaska. Isn't it a little embarrassing that the VA is ahead of the "civilian" sector?
Also on my schedule this week is not one, but two coding meetings. I have already completed three hours of computerized modules, but now I guess they want to test me in person to make sure I learned something. As a medical student and resident, you learn that chart documentation should be a clear and concise story of what is wrong with your patient, and how you plan to remedy the situation. As an attending, you learn that chart documentation is a legal tightrope of three choices from column A and two choices from column B with careful attention to include certain "key" words so that you don't get charged with insurance fraud.
Step two of my plan, take physicians out of the billing altogether. We the physicians should go back to clear and concise stories followed by well-developed plans. We should not be thinking about including documentation about length of time spent with patient or pertinent ROS. The only key words should be those pertaining to the health and care of my patient. We should do the job we were trained to do, and leave the business aspect to business people.
I concede that it is a relatively simple plan. It includes no "pork" and I have consulted with no lobbyist. I haven't vetted it through the Congressional Budget Office, and am fairly certain that it will not save a single penny. However, the peace of mind to physicians - priceless.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Once you start you can't stop
Once you start you can't ever stop. These are the words my mom repeated to me for the two years I had to beg before she would let me shave my legs. Many of my friends had started shaving around 12 or 13. I was 14 and starting 9th grade before my mom caved.
Her argument - no one could see the sparse blond fuzz on my legs, and she certainly didn't approve of boys rubbing my legs back then. (Wise beyond her years - a guy rubbing my freshly shaven leg a turn on to this day for me.) She kept telling me that shaving really wasn't as fun and glamorous as it sounded. She also pointed out that it wasn't something you could take back. Once you start, she would say, your hair turns dark and becomes stubble. You will be stuck shaving the rest of your life.
I am starting to think that her advice may apply to more than shaving my legs. I have put considerable time and effort into avoiding a "real" job. (I mean who else do you know that did not one, but two fellowships after a general surgery residency? ) I really thought I was ready to grow up and sit at the big girls table. . . that is until I got the call tonight that all is official, and I can actually start work tomorrow.
Am I ready for this? I am pretty sure that once I start down this role of actual responsibility I won't be allowed to stop. Is this another case of the idea being more fun than the reality? Guess we will find out . . in the meantime, I need to go shave my legs.
Her argument - no one could see the sparse blond fuzz on my legs, and she certainly didn't approve of boys rubbing my legs back then. (Wise beyond her years - a guy rubbing my freshly shaven leg a turn on to this day for me.) She kept telling me that shaving really wasn't as fun and glamorous as it sounded. She also pointed out that it wasn't something you could take back. Once you start, she would say, your hair turns dark and becomes stubble. You will be stuck shaving the rest of your life.
I am starting to think that her advice may apply to more than shaving my legs. I have put considerable time and effort into avoiding a "real" job. (I mean who else do you know that did not one, but two fellowships after a general surgery residency? ) I really thought I was ready to grow up and sit at the big girls table. . . that is until I got the call tonight that all is official, and I can actually start work tomorrow.
Am I ready for this? I am pretty sure that once I start down this role of actual responsibility I won't be allowed to stop. Is this another case of the idea being more fun than the reality? Guess we will find out . . in the meantime, I need to go shave my legs.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
High Maintenance Hair
I have made peace with my hair - for the most part. Do I occasionally dream of waking up one morning with a full head of thick, luxurious hair with a slight tendency to curl - sure, but who doesn't? I recognize the limitations of fine hair, and am just happy that I at least have a lot of baby fine hair.
All of that being said, I still get very nervous when I have to go to a new place to get a haircut. (One of those limitations is it doesn't hide a bad haircut.) It is becoming increasingly likely that I will actually start work next week, so it was time to hide some fairly impressive roots. . . first impressions and all. I asked around, got a couple of names and set out to find my new hairdresser. I found an incredibly nice lady, who doesn't speak more than two words of English, but we managed well enough.
I left the salon feeling pretty good. I had good color, no roots and as much body as my hair is capable of giving. It was Reese Witherspoon in Sweet Home Alabama, just not quite as blond. It also cost me about half of what I usually pay. Went to bed feeling pretty good.
I woke up this morning with the shaggy, tousled hair of a teenage boy. Not good. I ran a brush through it, and ended up with the hair of the Partridge Family (they all had the exact same haircut so take your pick). Trying to remain calm, I broke out the hairdryer and a curling brush. Two hours later, although not the same as yesterday, I had hair that could be seen in public.
The problem - my idea of hair maintenance is a comb before an air dry. In desperation a low pony tail. I don't currently have the length for a pony tail and the know how for maintenance. I guess baseball caps here I come.
All of that being said, I still get very nervous when I have to go to a new place to get a haircut. (One of those limitations is it doesn't hide a bad haircut.) It is becoming increasingly likely that I will actually start work next week, so it was time to hide some fairly impressive roots. . . first impressions and all. I asked around, got a couple of names and set out to find my new hairdresser. I found an incredibly nice lady, who doesn't speak more than two words of English, but we managed well enough.
I left the salon feeling pretty good. I had good color, no roots and as much body as my hair is capable of giving. It was Reese Witherspoon in Sweet Home Alabama, just not quite as blond. It also cost me about half of what I usually pay. Went to bed feeling pretty good.
I woke up this morning with the shaggy, tousled hair of a teenage boy. Not good. I ran a brush through it, and ended up with the hair of the Partridge Family (they all had the exact same haircut so take your pick). Trying to remain calm, I broke out the hairdryer and a curling brush. Two hours later, although not the same as yesterday, I had hair that could be seen in public.
The problem - my idea of hair maintenance is a comb before an air dry. In desperation a low pony tail. I don't currently have the length for a pony tail and the know how for maintenance. I guess baseball caps here I come.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Sold!
They say every girl has her price - turns out mine is a mall. In my defense, it is a REALLY great mall. As many of you know, I have struggled falling for Miami. I tried the beach, the pool, the "strip", and even the museums. I was learning to like it, but still not overly infatuated.
Well that ended yesterday. I have avoided malls since moving here - something about taking an alcoholic to a bar, but yesterday I went in search of Apple and Aveda stores. I needed a jacket for my phone, and conditioner for my hair. I started South of the city in Dadeland Mall. It was okay - it has a Saks, but was arranged oddly. I found my Apple store, but no Aveda.
Therefore, off I went toward Ft Lauderdale and found nirvana . . aka Adventura Mall. Somewhere between Kate Spade and Bloomingdale's - I was in love. This is the real thing not some short-lived affair like the ones in my past. Adventura and I can be happy for years to come. I only walked out with the needed conditioner and a Body Shoppe body butter, but do I have plans once I get a paycheck. This could get dangerous.
On the work note, it looks like the stars might actually align this week. I am now official at 2 of the 3 places, and looks like the last one should come tomorrow. I am beyond excited, but will admit a little nervous. I'll just have to remind myself that money is necessary for shopping.
Well that ended yesterday. I have avoided malls since moving here - something about taking an alcoholic to a bar, but yesterday I went in search of Apple and Aveda stores. I needed a jacket for my phone, and conditioner for my hair. I started South of the city in Dadeland Mall. It was okay - it has a Saks, but was arranged oddly. I found my Apple store, but no Aveda.
Therefore, off I went toward Ft Lauderdale and found nirvana . . aka Adventura Mall. Somewhere between Kate Spade and Bloomingdale's - I was in love. This is the real thing not some short-lived affair like the ones in my past. Adventura and I can be happy for years to come. I only walked out with the needed conditioner and a Body Shoppe body butter, but do I have plans once I get a paycheck. This could get dangerous.
On the work note, it looks like the stars might actually align this week. I am now official at 2 of the 3 places, and looks like the last one should come tomorrow. I am beyond excited, but will admit a little nervous. I'll just have to remind myself that money is necessary for shopping.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Made me giggle
The lead off story for the second straight morning on the local news - cold front moving through. With a completely straight face, my weather lady told me to brace for the cold temperatures. The high today is only expected to be a chilly 86 degrees. Now where did I put my parka?
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
CSI: Miami
Thanks to Kris, I have recently become addicted to CSI: Miami. The only "cops and robbers" show that I had previously watched was Law and Order. (The original - not a fan of the million spin-offs. ) My mom kept telling me how good the CSI's were, but I had never taken the hint. While in Nashville, I watched an episode of CSI: Miami with Kris and Bassam and got hooked.
For those of you who don't watch, it is a show about crime scene investigators who work for the Miami-Dade Police Department. Each show begins with the medical examiner and a dead body, and ends with the finding of the killer. The middle is filled with halfway realistic science, and totally inaccurate medicine (but I am used to that part). Sounds good in theory right? Watching a show about a city full of killers, drug addicts, gangsters and prostitutes is always fun - as long as you are not living in said city. Perhaps now was not the best time to become a fan.
As I run along the water in the mornings, I look for dead bodies among the rocks. As I walk around downtown, I find myself looking in the bushes (not sure for what). I am now convinced that I will either be involved in a bomb explosion or a shoot out. I pick out guys that I am convinced are drug dealers. The prostitutes are harder - the normal dress code down here would get you arrested in most states. (We'll just say that Miami women believe in showing skin - LOTS of it.) You better believe I am going to follow the first grey Hummer I see on the road in the hopes that "Eric" pops out of it.
The funniest part - instead of becoming scared to enjoy my city - I now go looking for the places I see on the show. My one pet peeve with the show is the way the characters dress. We wear a lot of white down here, but 6 inch heels and a white suit to a crime scene - please! I can only extend my fashion sense so far even in make-believe.
For those of you who don't watch, it is a show about crime scene investigators who work for the Miami-Dade Police Department. Each show begins with the medical examiner and a dead body, and ends with the finding of the killer. The middle is filled with halfway realistic science, and totally inaccurate medicine (but I am used to that part). Sounds good in theory right? Watching a show about a city full of killers, drug addicts, gangsters and prostitutes is always fun - as long as you are not living in said city. Perhaps now was not the best time to become a fan.
As I run along the water in the mornings, I look for dead bodies among the rocks. As I walk around downtown, I find myself looking in the bushes (not sure for what). I am now convinced that I will either be involved in a bomb explosion or a shoot out. I pick out guys that I am convinced are drug dealers. The prostitutes are harder - the normal dress code down here would get you arrested in most states. (We'll just say that Miami women believe in showing skin - LOTS of it.) You better believe I am going to follow the first grey Hummer I see on the road in the hopes that "Eric" pops out of it.
The funniest part - instead of becoming scared to enjoy my city - I now go looking for the places I see on the show. My one pet peeve with the show is the way the characters dress. We wear a lot of white down here, but 6 inch heels and a white suit to a crime scene - please! I can only extend my fashion sense so far even in make-believe.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Have we met?
Do you ever wonder if they met at a party would your 20 year old self recognize your current self? I don't mean physically. (Don't even get me started on the unexpected side effects of aging.) I mean the inside stuff. Would the person you were at 20 want to have dinner with the person you are now?
I spent the last couple of days in Orlando with a friend from college. It made me realize again how lucky I am in regards to friends. Some of my best friends to this day I made during college. These friends survived through my medical school and surgical training. My friends have stuck by me through infrequent phone calls, last minute cancellations and constant whining about how much residency sucks.
When I see my friends, I can still see the spirit of the person I knew at 20. However, I wonder if they can see the same. I look at the me of now, and am not sure that I can still see the me of 20. I know life experiences are meant to mold the person that you become, but shouldn't the shape still be familiar?
I was optimistic and big hearted. I felt everyone was inherently good. I was quick to give trust and the benefit of the doubt. I thought I could make the world a better place. I was tenderhearted. Books, movies, and even the occasional Hallmark card brought me to tears. I was the ultimate Polly Anna. My glass was always half full, and I was always willing to share. I lived in a world of black and white with clearly recognizable moral absolutes.
What would the 20 year old me think if we met today? Would we be friends? Did enough of that girl survive the things that she has seen and experienced? Did she just don a tough exterior to survive, or did the weight of that experience change the person within. I like to think the former, but sometime I wonder.
I spent the last couple of days in Orlando with a friend from college. It made me realize again how lucky I am in regards to friends. Some of my best friends to this day I made during college. These friends survived through my medical school and surgical training. My friends have stuck by me through infrequent phone calls, last minute cancellations and constant whining about how much residency sucks.
When I see my friends, I can still see the spirit of the person I knew at 20. However, I wonder if they can see the same. I look at the me of now, and am not sure that I can still see the me of 20. I know life experiences are meant to mold the person that you become, but shouldn't the shape still be familiar?
I was optimistic and big hearted. I felt everyone was inherently good. I was quick to give trust and the benefit of the doubt. I thought I could make the world a better place. I was tenderhearted. Books, movies, and even the occasional Hallmark card brought me to tears. I was the ultimate Polly Anna. My glass was always half full, and I was always willing to share. I lived in a world of black and white with clearly recognizable moral absolutes.
What would the 20 year old me think if we met today? Would we be friends? Did enough of that girl survive the things that she has seen and experienced? Did she just don a tough exterior to survive, or did the weight of that experience change the person within. I like to think the former, but sometime I wonder.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Runner's High?
It is common knowledge that I have a love/hate relationship with running. I love what it does for my body, but hate doing it. I have always envied my "runner" friends. Not only do they all have amazing bodies, but they all talk of feeling great after a run. The so-called runner's high. Having never experienced it, I was fairly certain they were making it up. You know just another skinny girl hoax - like the one where skinny girls always say they eat whatever they want.
You have to understand that for me running has always been just something I had to survive. The last 10 minutes of my runs are as horrible as the first 10 minutes. I had read all about that wall I had to bust through, but was fairly certain I had never run far enough to actually encounter it.
Recently, I decided to give running another go. I was still convinced I would hate it, but needed the morale boost of getting back into shape. I am hoping to not jinx myself, but I am now 2 for the last 2 runs. I am doing a "Galloway" training method to get back into running shape. I do a run/walk 4 days a week. I am still fairly early in the program, but I will be honest those skinny girls may be onto something. Both of my runs this week have left me feeling energized and great. I may finally understand this whole running appeal. Now if only that eating whatever I wanted myth was true.
You have to understand that for me running has always been just something I had to survive. The last 10 minutes of my runs are as horrible as the first 10 minutes. I had read all about that wall I had to bust through, but was fairly certain I had never run far enough to actually encounter it.
Recently, I decided to give running another go. I was still convinced I would hate it, but needed the morale boost of getting back into shape. I am hoping to not jinx myself, but I am now 2 for the last 2 runs. I am doing a "Galloway" training method to get back into running shape. I do a run/walk 4 days a week. I am still fairly early in the program, but I will be honest those skinny girls may be onto something. Both of my runs this week have left me feeling energized and great. I may finally understand this whole running appeal. Now if only that eating whatever I wanted myth was true.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Little Things
Isn't it amazing how such little things can change your whole outlook on life? Usually it is the bad things that I let get to me. However, today something as simple as a grocery store made my entire day. I was walking home from the metro this afternoon when I saw a Publix. Now it is the fourth Publix within 4 blocks of my island. ( I am fine with the Publix part which is good since other than one lone Whole Foods on South Beach it is the only option.) I had tried the other 3 and quite frankly left scared. They were all cramped and dirty. I so don't do dirty grocery stores. They all also lacked organization. I mean baby supplies were on the same isle as pasta and rice. The fruit was in the same bins as the meat. They were simply bizarre.
This was not a Publix that I had noticed. It looked good from the outside, but so had the others. I walked in and heard the angels sing. It was spacious, organized, and most importantly clean. It seems like a simple thing, but it has put me in an entirely new state of mind. I may fall in love with this city after all.
This was not a Publix that I had noticed. It looked good from the outside, but so had the others. I walked in and heard the angels sing. It was spacious, organized, and most importantly clean. It seems like a simple thing, but it has put me in an entirely new state of mind. I may fall in love with this city after all.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Broken Promises
I broke the one promise to myself that I REALLY didn't want to break today. I cleaned my kitchen and bathrooms. I know it is a silly thing, but this one hurts. I made myself quite a few promises to survive 10 years of surgical training. They all started somewhere along the lines of "when I finish residency ___ " . The blank was usually filled with some experience that I wanted or task that I could avoid. Some were serious and some less so, but none meant as much to me as the promise of a maid.
I am somewhat obsessed about clean bathrooms. I am not quite sure what the deal is with them, but toilet bowl rings and tile grout are like nails on a chalkboard for me. The problem - I HATE to clean bathrooms. Ironic? Sure. The real painful irony - I now have 3!!!!! Throw in black granite counter tops that show every spot and stainless steal appliances that would make a CSI team ecstatic with the fingerprints to process - let us just say that hiring a maid will definitely precede buying the new furniture that I desperately need. I mean a girl has to have priorities.
I am somewhat obsessed about clean bathrooms. I am not quite sure what the deal is with them, but toilet bowl rings and tile grout are like nails on a chalkboard for me. The problem - I HATE to clean bathrooms. Ironic? Sure. The real painful irony - I now have 3!!!!! Throw in black granite counter tops that show every spot and stainless steal appliances that would make a CSI team ecstatic with the fingerprints to process - let us just say that hiring a maid will definitely precede buying the new furniture that I desperately need. I mean a girl has to have priorities.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
The good
I have spent quite a bit of time listing all of the things I haven't liked about Miami. I thought today I would share my favorite. Here are a few shots of the view from my balconies. First is the view to the west. It is best seen from the balcony off of my office and guest room. In the center is the Miami river. The surrounding area is "downtown" Miami. It is mostly hotels, condos, and financial buildings. There is a drawbridge that is just off view in my direction. It is an endless source of fascination for me.
These views are to the east. In the first picture you see Northern Biscayne Bay in the forefront. This is the estuary area of the Miami river and the Atlantic. It seems to be an incredibly popular place for speed boats, jet skis, and sail boats. It is very rare to look out the window and not see at least a couple of boats out there. In the middle of the picture is the Port of Miami. It has some cargo, but mostly serves the cruise line industry. You can tell the day of the week based on when the cruise ships come and go.
This is a closer image of the Port of Miami. As you can see, the cruise line industry is still alive and well. At least 3 or 4 ships come and go each day Friday thru Monday. Just beyond the Port, you can be the skyline for Miami Beach. Miami Beach is separated from Miami by the Intercostal Waterway (aka Northern Biscayne Bay). It is divided into both a North beach and a South beach. North beach is mostly full of my age and up professionals living in some AMAZING condos.
South beach is the "hip" place to be. It is very art deco so not really my taste, but worth experiencing at least once. The lights at night are pretty awesome. The beach is gorgeous with amazing water color. You can see a little of the Atlantic at the top of the picture. On a clear day, you can see large ships on the horizon. All in all fairly fantastic. The views at night are in a class all of their own, but I can't get get pics of them with my camera. Guess you all will just have to come down and see them in person.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Enough
Yet another frustrating trip to work this morning, it may now be mid October before my credentials come through. For me, it was the straw that broke the camel's back. I was furious, frustrated, confused, and in complete despair. It is starting to seem as if I am chasing a carrot on a stick. Every time I almost have it, it is moved slightly out of my reach.
I came home and spent the entire day wallowing in self pity. I lamented how unfair life is for me. I wailed about spending so much of my life trying to achieve something only to have a ridiculous University holding my dream hostage. All in all, I have let this entire experience "steal my joy" - to quote my friend Kris.
Well, enough is enough. As my mother has told me on more than one occasion: "life is not fair, and the sooner I get over thinking it is - the happier I will be." So this real life thing isn't all that I ever hoped. Sitting around drowning my feelings in chocolate is certainly not contributing much. I am no longer going to allow these people to steal my joy. I am in a new city full of possibility.
Starting now, I will make the most of this life experience. This is a perfect time to "get to know" my new city, study for my upcoming boards, exercise, and starting learning to be a "real" person. I am going to need help. You guys have to help keep me honest. When I start veering into self-pity, give me a hard shove back in the right direction. People and situations only have power over us if we concede it. I concede no more.
I came home and spent the entire day wallowing in self pity. I lamented how unfair life is for me. I wailed about spending so much of my life trying to achieve something only to have a ridiculous University holding my dream hostage. All in all, I have let this entire experience "steal my joy" - to quote my friend Kris.
Well, enough is enough. As my mother has told me on more than one occasion: "life is not fair, and the sooner I get over thinking it is - the happier I will be." So this real life thing isn't all that I ever hoped. Sitting around drowning my feelings in chocolate is certainly not contributing much. I am no longer going to allow these people to steal my joy. I am in a new city full of possibility.
Starting now, I will make the most of this life experience. This is a perfect time to "get to know" my new city, study for my upcoming boards, exercise, and starting learning to be a "real" person. I am going to need help. You guys have to help keep me honest. When I start veering into self-pity, give me a hard shove back in the right direction. People and situations only have power over us if we concede it. I concede no more.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Certifiable
I have always walked a fine line between quirky and insane. I have now officially fallen into insanity. My qualifying event? Fall. . . the season not the verb.
Everyone has kindly listened to me complain for 5 of the last 9 months about how much I hated cold weather. I kept a jacket out from the movers, and used it. IT WAS THE END OF JUNE!! Since my delicate nature seems to necessitate warmer climates, one would think that Miami would be perfect for me. It is well into September, and we still haven't had a day that didn't reach the mid 90's. I am told to expect a couple of "cold" days with highs in the mid 60's come January.
So what's my problem? Television. (I have probably watched more television in the last 3 months than I have in the last 3 years. ) I am one of those strange people that actually watch the commercials. It is not that I particularly like commercials, but I hate missing a part of the show. I am not good at timing when to flip back. Over the past week, commercials (even here) have gone from summer savings to fall fashions. It has made me very nostalgic for Fall.
Is it the idea of shopping for a new season? Is it the sight of leaves changing? Is it the first bite of winter in the air? Is it the smell of cinnamon and pumpkins? I am not sure, but I have to find a way to snap out of it. I am fairly certain that fall clothes won't fit into my closet, palm trees don't change colors, 80 degrees will be my "bite" of winter, and cinnamon is not a Latin spice. I am struggling to like this city. I don't need something else to hold against it. HELP!
Everyone has kindly listened to me complain for 5 of the last 9 months about how much I hated cold weather. I kept a jacket out from the movers, and used it. IT WAS THE END OF JUNE!! Since my delicate nature seems to necessitate warmer climates, one would think that Miami would be perfect for me. It is well into September, and we still haven't had a day that didn't reach the mid 90's. I am told to expect a couple of "cold" days with highs in the mid 60's come January.
So what's my problem? Television. (I have probably watched more television in the last 3 months than I have in the last 3 years. ) I am one of those strange people that actually watch the commercials. It is not that I particularly like commercials, but I hate missing a part of the show. I am not good at timing when to flip back. Over the past week, commercials (even here) have gone from summer savings to fall fashions. It has made me very nostalgic for Fall.
Is it the idea of shopping for a new season? Is it the sight of leaves changing? Is it the first bite of winter in the air? Is it the smell of cinnamon and pumpkins? I am not sure, but I have to find a way to snap out of it. I am fairly certain that fall clothes won't fit into my closet, palm trees don't change colors, 80 degrees will be my "bite" of winter, and cinnamon is not a Latin spice. I am struggling to like this city. I don't need something else to hold against it. HELP!
Sunday, September 6, 2009
What have I done?
I know it is wrong to complain about a city that I am just getting to know. I also recognize that since I haven't started to work yet I am guaranteed to like the city less. For me it takes being out and interacting with my community (i.e. the hospital) to really get to know a place.
Therefore, I have tried to be very careful about making judgements yet. I have smiled and vowed to learn Spanish. I have gritted my teeth and tried to adapt to a more laissez-faire approach to work. However, tonight crossed the line. I decided this afternoon that Indian or Thai would be really good for dinner. I sat down at my trusty computer and set out to find the appropriate place. Since I am still in sweats (despite the fact that I never actually made it to the gym), I wanted delivery.
You can not get Thai, Indian, Italian or Chinese delivered in this town. No - I am not exaggerating. What city doesn't have bad delivery Chinese? I called everybody. You can get Cuban, Cuban and oh yea Cuban. That's it. There are other ethnic restaurants, but they don't deliver. Where am I????
Therefore, I have tried to be very careful about making judgements yet. I have smiled and vowed to learn Spanish. I have gritted my teeth and tried to adapt to a more laissez-faire approach to work. However, tonight crossed the line. I decided this afternoon that Indian or Thai would be really good for dinner. I sat down at my trusty computer and set out to find the appropriate place. Since I am still in sweats (despite the fact that I never actually made it to the gym), I wanted delivery.
You can not get Thai, Indian, Italian or Chinese delivered in this town. No - I am not exaggerating. What city doesn't have bad delivery Chinese? I called everybody. You can get Cuban, Cuban and oh yea Cuban. That's it. There are other ethnic restaurants, but they don't deliver. Where am I????
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Coincidence?
I have reached the worst part of unpacking. You know the part where it occurs to you that you have way more crap than space to store said crap. The part where you get creative and decide that the 1/2 bath is a great place to store boots?
As I was attempting to put one more skirt into my overstuffed closet, I turn on the television for a break. What you might ask is on? An A&E special about Hoarders. Yes, they were going into the homes of people who were compulsive shoppers and showing the massive amounts of things in their homes. These people were living in the most deplorable conditions. As I watched horrified, I looked around my living room. Everywhere I looked I saw signs of conspicuous consumption.
I immediately got up and started editing my closet. I am giving away two large boxes of clothes, and yet my closet is still full. What is wrong with me???? Everyone is dying to see my new apartment - it looks like they will only have to turn on A&E.
As I was attempting to put one more skirt into my overstuffed closet, I turn on the television for a break. What you might ask is on? An A&E special about Hoarders. Yes, they were going into the homes of people who were compulsive shoppers and showing the massive amounts of things in their homes. These people were living in the most deplorable conditions. As I watched horrified, I looked around my living room. Everywhere I looked I saw signs of conspicuous consumption.
I immediately got up and started editing my closet. I am giving away two large boxes of clothes, and yet my closet is still full. What is wrong with me???? Everyone is dying to see my new apartment - it looks like they will only have to turn on A&E.
Friday, September 4, 2009
Penis Envy???
You know the old tale that men who drive sport cars are lacking in a certain area? Well, let's hope that is not true or else I am going to have a very sad dating life here in Miami. As most of you know, I am not much of a car person - or at least I wasn't. I am quickly becoming one.
It all started as I went to my car the other day. Walking out of my condo building I walked past a beautiful white car. Upon closer inspection I realized it was an Aston Martin (the James Bond car). Sitting in the parking space next to it is a baby blue Lamborghini. I kid you not. As one continues on to my car, you pass three Porsches (two boxsters and a carrera), numerous BMWs and AMG Mercedes, a Ferrari, two Range Rovers and finally a black Maserati in the parking space next to mine. I have the only American car in the place.
At first I thought that maybe I was just in the wrong building, but no these cars are everywhere. You can not drive down the road without seeing at least a dozen cars that cost more than I will make this year (as a "real" surgeon). I even saw a Porsche SUV - now why on earth does one need a Porsche SUV. I must admit that it makes driving around really fun, but really makes me despair regarding the "boys" in this town.
It all started as I went to my car the other day. Walking out of my condo building I walked past a beautiful white car. Upon closer inspection I realized it was an Aston Martin (the James Bond car). Sitting in the parking space next to it is a baby blue Lamborghini. I kid you not. As one continues on to my car, you pass three Porsches (two boxsters and a carrera), numerous BMWs and AMG Mercedes, a Ferrari, two Range Rovers and finally a black Maserati in the parking space next to mine. I have the only American car in the place.
At first I thought that maybe I was just in the wrong building, but no these cars are everywhere. You can not drive down the road without seeing at least a dozen cars that cost more than I will make this year (as a "real" surgeon). I even saw a Porsche SUV - now why on earth does one need a Porsche SUV. I must admit that it makes driving around really fun, but really makes me despair regarding the "boys" in this town.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Something new everyday?
"They" say that you learn something new everyday. I have never really bought into that one. Several days go past where I sail through life blissfully unlearned. In the last couple of days, I have been "catching" up on those wasted opportunities. I have done nothing but learn new lessons.
Lesson One - - Although moving companies are not on my favorites list, I am developing a soft spot for moving men. I blogged earlier about the four burly Philly men who packed up my unmentionables. They were all incredibly nice and seemed to enjoy having a good time. Yesterday, four Latino men delivered my unmentionables. They have a job that I don't envy, but were super polite and went out of their way to welcome me to Miami.
Lesson Two - Great Views have huge advantages. I know this one seems obvious, but the advantages weren't quite what I was expecting. I realized it would be relaxing for me to walk outside and gaze at the water. I was unaware of how much everyone else would enjoy the view. Every workman that has been to my place the last week has exclaimed over the view. I invited them all to go out and take a look. While they are gazing around at the city in which they live, they offer great information. I now know locations for supposedly good restaurants, shopping, swimming, sunning, and hooking.
Lesson Three - Granite counter tops have no bounce. This is my first experience with granite counter tops (butcher block is plenty good enough for my mom who hates to cook). I love the idea of them - I probably wouldn't have gone with such a dark shade of black with matching tall back splash. Although I am learning that one must be more gentle that usual when placing things on the counter top. I have lost one platter and two glasses so far to this lesson. (Limestone floors also very unforgiving and COLD.)
Lesson Four - I have a serious shopping problem. Now this one is an oldie but a goodie. I am not sure why I can never get this lesson to stick. Every time I move, and try to cram all of my stuff into whatever place I am currently residing my problem is glaringly obvious. I always swear that I am going to stop shopping - usually lasts a month - and then I am right back to my old ways.
Lesson Five - Miami condos do not have coat closets. While this may seem like a logical choice to those who have always lived in Miami, it is ridiculous for the rest of us. I recognize that I have way too many coats for a girl that has spent most of her life in the South, but all I am asking for is a little corner somewhere to put them. Do people not have coats at all down here? Surely they didn't mean for me to put them in my jam packed walk-in closet? --- I refer them to lesson four.
Back to unpacking.
Lesson One - - Although moving companies are not on my favorites list, I am developing a soft spot for moving men. I blogged earlier about the four burly Philly men who packed up my unmentionables. They were all incredibly nice and seemed to enjoy having a good time. Yesterday, four Latino men delivered my unmentionables. They have a job that I don't envy, but were super polite and went out of their way to welcome me to Miami.
Lesson Two - Great Views have huge advantages. I know this one seems obvious, but the advantages weren't quite what I was expecting. I realized it would be relaxing for me to walk outside and gaze at the water. I was unaware of how much everyone else would enjoy the view. Every workman that has been to my place the last week has exclaimed over the view. I invited them all to go out and take a look. While they are gazing around at the city in which they live, they offer great information. I now know locations for supposedly good restaurants, shopping, swimming, sunning, and hooking.
Lesson Three - Granite counter tops have no bounce. This is my first experience with granite counter tops (butcher block is plenty good enough for my mom who hates to cook). I love the idea of them - I probably wouldn't have gone with such a dark shade of black with matching tall back splash. Although I am learning that one must be more gentle that usual when placing things on the counter top. I have lost one platter and two glasses so far to this lesson. (Limestone floors also very unforgiving and COLD.)
Lesson Four - I have a serious shopping problem. Now this one is an oldie but a goodie. I am not sure why I can never get this lesson to stick. Every time I move, and try to cram all of my stuff into whatever place I am currently residing my problem is glaringly obvious. I always swear that I am going to stop shopping - usually lasts a month - and then I am right back to my old ways.
Lesson Five - Miami condos do not have coat closets. While this may seem like a logical choice to those who have always lived in Miami, it is ridiculous for the rest of us. I recognize that I have way too many coats for a girl that has spent most of her life in the South, but all I am asking for is a little corner somewhere to put them. Do people not have coats at all down here? Surely they didn't mean for me to put them in my jam packed walk-in closet? --- I refer them to lesson four.
Back to unpacking.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
More Vacation !?@#!
I know one should never complain about time off, but in all honesty - I am so OVER it. I want to work!!!! Don't get me wrong, it has been great. Two months of relative rest and relaxation after 10 years of surgical training is exactly what the doctor ordered. However, it is now time for the doctor to go back to work. I am just not meant for the idle life.
I have been bored for about 6 weeks now, but trying to stick it out because it seemed impolite to complain. I know lots of people who would have killed for eight weeks of nothingness. Turns out, I am not one of those people. All is well and good for the first little bit, and then one runs out of nothingness to do. I mean a girl can only sleep and read so much, and don't even get me started on daytime television.
So why am I still on vacation? Licensure. I honestly don't understand how you hear stories about people practicing without the appropriate credentials. I applied for my Florida license in June. I was obsessively (shocking I know) compulsive about getting my paperwork in to the board in a timely manner, and still I did not get my license until today.
The good news . . . I got my Florida license today. The bad news . . . now I still have to get credentialed at the two hospitals. I haven't been able to turn in my credentialing paperwork until I had a license. All in all it seems that I am at least looking at another 2-4 weeks of "vacation". I am not sure I can handle it - I REALLY NEED A LIFE AGAIN.
I have been bored for about 6 weeks now, but trying to stick it out because it seemed impolite to complain. I know lots of people who would have killed for eight weeks of nothingness. Turns out, I am not one of those people. All is well and good for the first little bit, and then one runs out of nothingness to do. I mean a girl can only sleep and read so much, and don't even get me started on daytime television.
So why am I still on vacation? Licensure. I honestly don't understand how you hear stories about people practicing without the appropriate credentials. I applied for my Florida license in June. I was obsessively (shocking I know) compulsive about getting my paperwork in to the board in a timely manner, and still I did not get my license until today.
The good news . . . I got my Florida license today. The bad news . . . now I still have to get credentialed at the two hospitals. I haven't been able to turn in my credentialing paperwork until I had a license. All in all it seems that I am at least looking at another 2-4 weeks of "vacation". I am not sure I can handle it - I REALLY NEED A LIFE AGAIN.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Sincerest apologies
It seems that I owe my parents an apology. Well not my parents per se, but their house. As many of you know, I started having SERIOUS phone issues when I went home this summer. I had almost zero reception at my parents' house. I blamed the fact that they live in the middle of nowhere (on Nowhere road to be exact). Imagine my surprise when I moved to the big city of Miami and found that I had no reception in my condo.
I went to the Sprint store today and was told that the problem is with my phone, not my parents' address. It will be Wednesday before my replacement phone is here. Today I received 8 text messages all at once - some of which had been sent 6 days ago. Therefore, if any of you have called me out there, and I haven't answered - blame my phone.
In the meantime, I will be begging Nowhere Road for forgiveness.
I went to the Sprint store today and was told that the problem is with my phone, not my parents' address. It will be Wednesday before my replacement phone is here. Today I received 8 text messages all at once - some of which had been sent 6 days ago. Therefore, if any of you have called me out there, and I haven't answered - blame my phone.
In the meantime, I will be begging Nowhere Road for forgiveness.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Moving - Part Deux
I opened this blog a little over a year ago complaining about my moving experience. Unfortunately the intervening year taught me very little. (I have recently learned however that my friend Jessica grades blogs on grammar and punctuation so now I am incredibly paranoid.)
Where to start? The pack up and store went surprisingly well. I notified my moving company a couple of weeks ago about my move in date. I was hoping to have the stuff here last Monday. They told me it couldn't be before Tuesday. The condo rules only allow one move in or out per day and Tuesday was taken. We settled on Wednesday, and I started the journey to Miami.
We arrived without incident on Monday, and I took possession of the condo. It is actually much larger than I remember, and has incredible bay and city views. We mostly rested on Monday and headed to the Keys on Tuesday. When I hadn't heard from the moving company by late Tuesday afternoon, I gave them a call. They informed me that my stuff was stuck in Georgia and wouldn't be here until Thursday. . . . small problem, the elevator was already reserved for Thursday!
I went to the condo management office and begged for an exception. They were gracious enough to grant me one, and the move was on for Thursday morning. Now I should mention here that I live on a small island. The island comes with very specific rules. The moving truck has to be a certain size, and can only be on the island at certain times. I was aware of these rules, and made sure that my moving company also had a copy. Thursday morning arrives and I get a call that my mover is at the gate, but can't get in until 9 am. I was actually foolish enough to think that this whole thing might actually happen.
Was I wrong! At 9:05, I get a call that the moving truck was too big. The moving company admits that they received my fax of the rules and regulations, but didn't bother to read them. I am told that they can have the stuff to me next Tuesday!!! When I point out that I had been promised delivery no later than Aug 28th and Tuesday is Sept 1st, I am told that they are sorry, but I should take solace in the fact that my stuff is only 1 mile away. I won't print my reply.
I again checked with the condo office, and of course Tuesday is already reserved. The current plan is to have delivery on Wednesday. I am of course no longer crazy enough to actually expect it to happen. Unlike last time, I have a few more things with me. I have a TV, my computer and study material. My Florida license still hasn't come through so no September 1st start for me. Hoping it will come through soon because I need the money.
In the meantime, I am trying to go with the flow. I keep reminding myself that in a couple of weeks this will all just be a funny story to tell. It has also given me some time to explore Miami, but I will save that for the next blog. Maybe I have learned something about moving after all.
Where to start? The pack up and store went surprisingly well. I notified my moving company a couple of weeks ago about my move in date. I was hoping to have the stuff here last Monday. They told me it couldn't be before Tuesday. The condo rules only allow one move in or out per day and Tuesday was taken. We settled on Wednesday, and I started the journey to Miami.
We arrived without incident on Monday, and I took possession of the condo. It is actually much larger than I remember, and has incredible bay and city views. We mostly rested on Monday and headed to the Keys on Tuesday. When I hadn't heard from the moving company by late Tuesday afternoon, I gave them a call. They informed me that my stuff was stuck in Georgia and wouldn't be here until Thursday. . . . small problem, the elevator was already reserved for Thursday!
I went to the condo management office and begged for an exception. They were gracious enough to grant me one, and the move was on for Thursday morning. Now I should mention here that I live on a small island. The island comes with very specific rules. The moving truck has to be a certain size, and can only be on the island at certain times. I was aware of these rules, and made sure that my moving company also had a copy. Thursday morning arrives and I get a call that my mover is at the gate, but can't get in until 9 am. I was actually foolish enough to think that this whole thing might actually happen.
Was I wrong! At 9:05, I get a call that the moving truck was too big. The moving company admits that they received my fax of the rules and regulations, but didn't bother to read them. I am told that they can have the stuff to me next Tuesday!!! When I point out that I had been promised delivery no later than Aug 28th and Tuesday is Sept 1st, I am told that they are sorry, but I should take solace in the fact that my stuff is only 1 mile away. I won't print my reply.
I again checked with the condo office, and of course Tuesday is already reserved. The current plan is to have delivery on Wednesday. I am of course no longer crazy enough to actually expect it to happen. Unlike last time, I have a few more things with me. I have a TV, my computer and study material. My Florida license still hasn't come through so no September 1st start for me. Hoping it will come through soon because I need the money.
In the meantime, I am trying to go with the flow. I keep reminding myself that in a couple of weeks this will all just be a funny story to tell. It has also given me some time to explore Miami, but I will save that for the next blog. Maybe I have learned something about moving after all.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Miami bound
Leaving Savannah this morning. Had a fantastic visit topped off by an amazing massage yesterday. Swinging back through Athens to pick up my mom and sister, and then off to Miami. Current plan is to do most of the drive Sunday, and then get up Monday morning and go the rest of the way into Miami.
Hoping that I have my belongings. It is looking a little questionable. Why is it that my moves NEVER go smoothly? I am not sure where I go wrong, but my current plan is to just not move for a while. I just keep smiling and reassure myself that they will show up some time.
I still don't have an official Florida Medical License, but at least my file is now complete. Supposedly within two weeks it will be issued (unless they find out something about me that I don't even know about). I can't officially start work until I have it, so I am very anxious to have it issued.
Will give you my first impressions of Miami next post.
Hoping that I have my belongings. It is looking a little questionable. Why is it that my moves NEVER go smoothly? I am not sure where I go wrong, but my current plan is to just not move for a while. I just keep smiling and reassure myself that they will show up some time.
I still don't have an official Florida Medical License, but at least my file is now complete. Supposedly within two weeks it will be issued (unless they find out something about me that I don't even know about). I can't officially start work until I have it, so I am very anxious to have it issued.
Will give you my first impressions of Miami next post.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Not from Around Here
I headed to Savannah yesterday to visit my friend Carl before I begin the long trek to Miami this weekend. While he was at work this morning, I decided to do a little site seeing around Savannah. Prior trips to Savannah when I was little mostly centered around Tybee Island and the beach so I thought I would see the Historic portion of town.
I love historic towns, and Savannah has all the things I love about them. It is full of beautiful old homes and charming shops and people. However, I was struck by all the tourists I encountered. I really didn't expect to encounter quite such a large number. I noted that most were "not from around here" (which for those of you who don't know is Southern Speak for people not born below the Mason-Dixon line.)
Since I happen to have a lot of friends "not from around here", I decided that I should offer a little Southern travel advice. Something that most of the people that I encountered this morning desperately needed. First and foremost, summer is NOT the best time to visit the South. I know that Summers spent sipping iced tea in rocking chairs on the front porch looks good on TV, any southerner will tell you that it a myth. Average summer temps here are in the high 90's this time of year, and don't even get me started on the humidity. Those of us "from here" spend as little time outside during the day as possible. Early mornings and late evenings are the only time that any sort of outdoor activity is even considered.
If at all possible, spring and fall are the best times to plan a visit. However, this brings up a second point. Seasons are a little different down here. Summer starts in late May/early June and lasts well into September. Spring here can start as early as late February, and fall usually doesn't begin until mid October. (True winter is a myth, but we consider January to be quite cold.)
If one finds themselves in the South in the summer, I offer some wardrobe advice. . . LEAVE ALL BLACK AT HOME. I recognize that black is de rigour for New York and the like, but fashion aside it is just too hot here to wear black. I was amazed at the number of people wearing dark and heavy fabrics. There is a reason that even men wear linen here - clothes need to breathe. I also recommend that you leave your jackets at home - even the "light ones". It DOES NOT cool down enough at night or in the morning to need a jacket. The only covering needed is the occasional restaurant that has the AC blasting. I would also abandon fashion and thrown on some flats. It is much harder to walk in heels when your feet are sweating.
Last but not least, as a personal favor to me, I ask that you say hello to the people that speak to you in the street. They are not going to ask for money and they haven't escaped from a mental institution. They are just doing what their mommas taught them to do - being friendly.
I love historic towns, and Savannah has all the things I love about them. It is full of beautiful old homes and charming shops and people. However, I was struck by all the tourists I encountered. I really didn't expect to encounter quite such a large number. I noted that most were "not from around here" (which for those of you who don't know is Southern Speak for people not born below the Mason-Dixon line.)
Since I happen to have a lot of friends "not from around here", I decided that I should offer a little Southern travel advice. Something that most of the people that I encountered this morning desperately needed. First and foremost, summer is NOT the best time to visit the South. I know that Summers spent sipping iced tea in rocking chairs on the front porch looks good on TV, any southerner will tell you that it a myth. Average summer temps here are in the high 90's this time of year, and don't even get me started on the humidity. Those of us "from here" spend as little time outside during the day as possible. Early mornings and late evenings are the only time that any sort of outdoor activity is even considered.
If at all possible, spring and fall are the best times to plan a visit. However, this brings up a second point. Seasons are a little different down here. Summer starts in late May/early June and lasts well into September. Spring here can start as early as late February, and fall usually doesn't begin until mid October. (True winter is a myth, but we consider January to be quite cold.)
If one finds themselves in the South in the summer, I offer some wardrobe advice. . . LEAVE ALL BLACK AT HOME. I recognize that black is de rigour for New York and the like, but fashion aside it is just too hot here to wear black. I was amazed at the number of people wearing dark and heavy fabrics. There is a reason that even men wear linen here - clothes need to breathe. I also recommend that you leave your jackets at home - even the "light ones". It DOES NOT cool down enough at night or in the morning to need a jacket. The only covering needed is the occasional restaurant that has the AC blasting. I would also abandon fashion and thrown on some flats. It is much harder to walk in heels when your feet are sweating.
Last but not least, as a personal favor to me, I ask that you say hello to the people that speak to you in the street. They are not going to ask for money and they haven't escaped from a mental institution. They are just doing what their mommas taught them to do - being friendly.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
My calendar is wrong
Okay - I am pretty sure that I had arranged a two month vacation between residency and the "real world". I thought two months would give me just enough time to get good and bored. It seemed like the perfect plan. I would spend a few weeks here, a week or two there . . . get to see all of my friends and family with plenty of time left over.
I still contend that the plan was good - however, I think something happened to my calendar. It says that it is August 11th - that can not be correct. If that is correct that means I have to leave for Miami in 11 days. I still need to visit Augusta, Atlanta and Savannah. I have a LOT of stuff I was planning to accomplish and didn't. Where did the time go??? It would be okay if I had something to show for it, but other than bugging the Helou's and my Parent's I have nothing to offer.
I need a new calendar.
I still contend that the plan was good - however, I think something happened to my calendar. It says that it is August 11th - that can not be correct. If that is correct that means I have to leave for Miami in 11 days. I still need to visit Augusta, Atlanta and Savannah. I have a LOT of stuff I was planning to accomplish and didn't. Where did the time go??? It would be okay if I had something to show for it, but other than bugging the Helou's and my Parent's I have nothing to offer.
I need a new calendar.
Friday, August 7, 2009
Missing
Missing - one 5' 2" female. Blond hair. Brown eyes. Carrying a few extra pounds. Once quite motivated and active. Rumor has it she has become incredibly lazy and decidedly unmotivated. Needs to start her job in 3 weeks - reward offered.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Miami Lessons
Just got back from Miami. Head home tomorrow. I must say that my time here in Nashville has been great. I always knew that I had great friends, but I had forgotten how much I actually liked them. A special thanks to my friends Bassam and Kris for allowing me to disrupt their lives for the last two weeks. . . also thanks for lending me your kids for some much needed munchkin time.
Spent the weekend in Miami looking for a Condo to rent. I learned a few lessons. First and foremost, condos with water views are all extremely nice and pricey. I ended up sacrificing a walk to the beach for an extra bedroom. I found a cute 3 bedroom on Brickell Key. I am not sure how to arrange the furniture around the wall to wall windows, but hopefully I will think of something.
Lesson two - I do not own nearly enough sparkly clothes. For that matter, the clothes that I own all seem to have too much material. The clothes women wear in the day time in Miami would work only at night time on a street corner in any other city. Either Miami has a lot of "working girls" or women in Miami are WAY less body conscious than the rest of the world. For my guy friends, while many women in Miami have the body for next to nothing, not having the body does not seem to stop Miami women. I can honestly say that I will most likely be the most conservatively dressed woman under 50 in all of Miami.
Lesson three - I may be in for even more of a culture shock than I thought. I walked for six blocks yesterday and heard not a word of English spoken. I am sure that I will do fine at work, but I think if I want to get anywhere socially I have got to get bilingual quickly. If nothing else, this will make for some interesting blogs over the next few months.
Spent the weekend in Miami looking for a Condo to rent. I learned a few lessons. First and foremost, condos with water views are all extremely nice and pricey. I ended up sacrificing a walk to the beach for an extra bedroom. I found a cute 3 bedroom on Brickell Key. I am not sure how to arrange the furniture around the wall to wall windows, but hopefully I will think of something.
Lesson two - I do not own nearly enough sparkly clothes. For that matter, the clothes that I own all seem to have too much material. The clothes women wear in the day time in Miami would work only at night time on a street corner in any other city. Either Miami has a lot of "working girls" or women in Miami are WAY less body conscious than the rest of the world. For my guy friends, while many women in Miami have the body for next to nothing, not having the body does not seem to stop Miami women. I can honestly say that I will most likely be the most conservatively dressed woman under 50 in all of Miami.
Lesson three - I may be in for even more of a culture shock than I thought. I walked for six blocks yesterday and heard not a word of English spoken. I am sure that I will do fine at work, but I think if I want to get anywhere socially I have got to get bilingual quickly. If nothing else, this will make for some interesting blogs over the next few months.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Vacation?
At breakfast this morning, Matt asked me if I was on vacation. When I replied that I was indeed on vacation, he looked very perplexed for a minute and then replied . . . "Aunt Tammy, no one comes here for vacation!" No one tell the tourism industry of Nashville.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Paperwork and Caffeine
I have been safely ensconced here in Nashville now for 5 days. For someone who has so much stuff she needs to accomplish, I have actually accomplished very little of it. Every time I look at the mountain of paperwork that I need to complete to actually start my job, I get overwhelmed and talk the kids into a game. So far, I have become a very good hider, king of Candy land, been fishing (with cards), and taught Matt and Grace rock, paper, scissors. (Kris may hate me for that one.) They caught on surprisingly quickly, although Grace picks rock about 90% of the time.
I am not sure why I have such a phobia about this paperwork. The vast majority of it is just repetitive. I answer the same questions over and over and over again. However, there is a good chunk of it that I am not sure is even in English. I am a fairly educated person, but I have read the same sheet about 3 times and the only thing I know for sure is they will prosecute me if I don't fill it out appropriately. Now the instructions on how to fill it out - so much legalese I am no longer sure how to fill out the top line that says Name.
My goal today is to make a sizable dent. I can't complete them all until my Florida license comes through and I have a Florida address. (Something else I need to work on today.) Unfortunately Kris took the kids to My Gym camp so I can't distract myself. I know that those of you who have the opportunity for kid time all the time occasionally want a break, but I am loving it. They are at the age where they are just hilarious. They have both become so mature. You can now have actual conversations with them. I am trying to convince Bassam and Kris to let me take them to Florida, but don't think I am making much progress.
Last learning point during my last few days. . . I am addicted to caffeine. I didn't really start drinking coffee on a semi-regular basis until I was a surgery resident. However, even then I didn't have it every day. Sometime in the last few years, I must have crossed over to the other side. The Helou's are not coffee drinkers (I am not sure how Bassam calls himself a surgeon). Whereas I have become accustomed to starting my day with a nice latte or grande flavored, they start their days with such weird things as milk, water and juice. It turns out that I now get a headache if I don't caffeinate early in the morning. I must also get a little grumpy because it has now become job one with the Helou's to make sure I have morning coffee (bad guest!).
Okay, enough procrastinating - off to fill out paperwork. Wonder when the kids are home?
I am not sure why I have such a phobia about this paperwork. The vast majority of it is just repetitive. I answer the same questions over and over and over again. However, there is a good chunk of it that I am not sure is even in English. I am a fairly educated person, but I have read the same sheet about 3 times and the only thing I know for sure is they will prosecute me if I don't fill it out appropriately. Now the instructions on how to fill it out - so much legalese I am no longer sure how to fill out the top line that says Name.
My goal today is to make a sizable dent. I can't complete them all until my Florida license comes through and I have a Florida address. (Something else I need to work on today.) Unfortunately Kris took the kids to My Gym camp so I can't distract myself. I know that those of you who have the opportunity for kid time all the time occasionally want a break, but I am loving it. They are at the age where they are just hilarious. They have both become so mature. You can now have actual conversations with them. I am trying to convince Bassam and Kris to let me take them to Florida, but don't think I am making much progress.
Last learning point during my last few days. . . I am addicted to caffeine. I didn't really start drinking coffee on a semi-regular basis until I was a surgery resident. However, even then I didn't have it every day. Sometime in the last few years, I must have crossed over to the other side. The Helou's are not coffee drinkers (I am not sure how Bassam calls himself a surgeon). Whereas I have become accustomed to starting my day with a nice latte or grande flavored, they start their days with such weird things as milk, water and juice. It turns out that I now get a headache if I don't caffeinate early in the morning. I must also get a little grumpy because it has now become job one with the Helou's to make sure I have morning coffee (bad guest!).
Okay, enough procrastinating - off to fill out paperwork. Wonder when the kids are home?
Friday, July 3, 2009
Aahhhhh!
Wow, I had forgotten what it was like to actually consciously breathe in and out. I arrived safely (though late) here in Nashville on the first. Since that time, I have been very busy. I have slept, played with the kids, napped, shopped (for Kris not me don't worry), played with the kids, ate, and played with the kids. It has been FANTASTIC.
If this is life, sign me up. Don't worry, I realize that eventually I have to become a productive paying member of society, but I will be honest - this whole unemployed drifter thing is way fun. Luckily, I have an incredible circle of friends who have all graciously agreed to share the burden of my two months off. I will probably spend another week here in Nashville before heading to Georgia. It has been great seeing Matt and Grace (Bassam and Kris also). I can't believe how fast they are growing up. It was less obvious when I got to see them all the time.
The only cloud on the horizon is the mounds of paperwork that I have only started climbing. Who would have thought that this much paperwork would be required to simply cut on people and take parts of their body out?
If this is life, sign me up. Don't worry, I realize that eventually I have to become a productive paying member of society, but I will be honest - this whole unemployed drifter thing is way fun. Luckily, I have an incredible circle of friends who have all graciously agreed to share the burden of my two months off. I will probably spend another week here in Nashville before heading to Georgia. It has been great seeing Matt and Grace (Bassam and Kris also). I can't believe how fast they are growing up. It was less obvious when I got to see them all the time.
The only cloud on the horizon is the mounds of paperwork that I have only started climbing. Who would have thought that this much paperwork would be required to simply cut on people and take parts of their body out?
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Goodbye
Well, it is official. My LONG years of training are truly over. As of today, I am officially "staff". Okay officially I am unemployed, but only temporarily. Starting September, I become "them". As I am packing up the last of my things to leave Philly this morning I am more sad than I expected.
It is no secret that there are some things I didn't love about Philly. Most of those things involved winter. However, there are quite a few things I really loved and am going to miss. It is the first time I really lived "downtown" in a city, and even in winter loved that part. There is something I love about getting up on a lazy Saturday, walking downstairs to the coffee shop up the block, and wandering back home. I loved having friends and people so close. I enjoyed simply walking around the city. I have also met many people here that I now consider my friends and who will be missed.
Training - not sure that I will miss that at all !!! I mean really after ten years, what is to miss. I am definitely ready to start calling my own shots and doing things my way.
Leaving for Nashville this morning. Will spend a few days there before on to Georgia. Hoping to see many of you over then next couple of weeks.
Goodbye Philly.
It is no secret that there are some things I didn't love about Philly. Most of those things involved winter. However, there are quite a few things I really loved and am going to miss. It is the first time I really lived "downtown" in a city, and even in winter loved that part. There is something I love about getting up on a lazy Saturday, walking downstairs to the coffee shop up the block, and wandering back home. I loved having friends and people so close. I enjoyed simply walking around the city. I have also met many people here that I now consider my friends and who will be missed.
Training - not sure that I will miss that at all !!! I mean really after ten years, what is to miss. I am definitely ready to start calling my own shots and doing things my way.
Leaving for Nashville this morning. Will spend a few days there before on to Georgia. Hoping to see many of you over then next couple of weeks.
Goodbye Philly.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Confession
I have a confession to make. I have struggled with whether or not I actually wanted to admit this out loud, but in the end decided that not saying it doesn't make it any less so, and isn't confession supposed to be good for the soul?
As you are all well aware, the whole job search was incredibly frustrating for me. I am not sure what I expected, but after 10 years of training at some pretty great places, I certainly didn't expect to have trouble finding a job. I almost imagined a fight over who would get blessed with my training and skills. A few months into my search when it became apparent that there was no stampede to my door, I sat down with a few of my attendings to discuss the issue.
To the one, they all (after a good deal of prompting) told me the same thing. If it had not been so frustrating and disheartening, it would have almost been comical. None of them were willing to just come right out and say it. They would all sheepishly look at their desks, computers, hands. No one could quite look me in the eye.
What was their big revelation? I am female! Hold the presses. It was quite a shock to me. I had wondered what those lumps on my chest were all those years. I joke about it now, but I was devastated, but perhaps not for the reason I should have been. I was devastated because it was the one thing I couldn't change. If I was coming off too confident, or not confident enough, t0o shy, too outgoing - those were things that I could change, but my sex - sorry "Chaz" I am not willing to go there.
Why was I not frustrated and irate that my chosen profession was so openly sexist? I have a harder time answering that question. By all rights, I should have been livid that it was suggested to me that another candidate although less qualified and with less technical ability would make a better colleague because he had testicles. The more interviews I had, the more it became glaringly obvious too me that these men were scared to death that I wanted to take their job and then become some baby making machine.
My most horrible confession - a part of me gets it. Now before any of you hunt me down to set me straight, hear me out. A little part of me sees that it must be incredibly frustrating to hire a new surgeon, invest a lot of money in salary, OR toys or laboratory stuff and then have them take off within the first year on maternity leave. It is also quite common in my profession for these women to not come back at all. In my heart, I know that women should be able to make choices based on the data they have at the time. Women should be allowed to have all the same opportunities as men, and should have choices about how they wish to fulfill themselves. However, a small part of me sees the other side.
I am not blaming my entire frustrating job search on my sex. Lots of things go into it some of which were in my control some not. However, I will admit to coming out of this experience with a little less rose coloring on my glasses. I knew that I was going into a male dominated profession (female cardiothoracic surgeons now make up 2% of all cardiothoracic surgeons). However, I perhaps unrealistically felt that it wouldn't make a difference.
As you are all well aware, the whole job search was incredibly frustrating for me. I am not sure what I expected, but after 10 years of training at some pretty great places, I certainly didn't expect to have trouble finding a job. I almost imagined a fight over who would get blessed with my training and skills. A few months into my search when it became apparent that there was no stampede to my door, I sat down with a few of my attendings to discuss the issue.
To the one, they all (after a good deal of prompting) told me the same thing. If it had not been so frustrating and disheartening, it would have almost been comical. None of them were willing to just come right out and say it. They would all sheepishly look at their desks, computers, hands. No one could quite look me in the eye.
What was their big revelation? I am female! Hold the presses. It was quite a shock to me. I had wondered what those lumps on my chest were all those years. I joke about it now, but I was devastated, but perhaps not for the reason I should have been. I was devastated because it was the one thing I couldn't change. If I was coming off too confident, or not confident enough, t0o shy, too outgoing - those were things that I could change, but my sex - sorry "Chaz" I am not willing to go there.
Why was I not frustrated and irate that my chosen profession was so openly sexist? I have a harder time answering that question. By all rights, I should have been livid that it was suggested to me that another candidate although less qualified and with less technical ability would make a better colleague because he had testicles. The more interviews I had, the more it became glaringly obvious too me that these men were scared to death that I wanted to take their job and then become some baby making machine.
My most horrible confession - a part of me gets it. Now before any of you hunt me down to set me straight, hear me out. A little part of me sees that it must be incredibly frustrating to hire a new surgeon, invest a lot of money in salary, OR toys or laboratory stuff and then have them take off within the first year on maternity leave. It is also quite common in my profession for these women to not come back at all. In my heart, I know that women should be able to make choices based on the data they have at the time. Women should be allowed to have all the same opportunities as men, and should have choices about how they wish to fulfill themselves. However, a small part of me sees the other side.
I am not blaming my entire frustrating job search on my sex. Lots of things go into it some of which were in my control some not. However, I will admit to coming out of this experience with a little less rose coloring on my glasses. I knew that I was going into a male dominated profession (female cardiothoracic surgeons now make up 2% of all cardiothoracic surgeons). However, I perhaps unrealistically felt that it wouldn't make a difference.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Out like a lamb?
I am going to admit to being a little disappointed this morning. I just completed my last ever night of call so one could question my sanity, but here is my point. I have had a "black cloud" my entire surgical call career. I am the only person that has never had a "no hitter" on call. Not only do I get "hits", I usually get to knock a few out of the ballpark.
Therefore, on this my last night of call, I came prepared for nothing short of Armageddon. I mean seriously this is the last chance that call fate has to hurt me. I figure it would at least make it interesting. I even felt somewhat invincible. I mean after you have survived 10 years of surgical training, you feel that you can survive anything for 24 hours. I felt sure that we would at least have a dissection or esophageal perforation - transplant maybe. Alas, we had nothing. I talked to a few outpatients to reassure them that it is normal to have some discomfort after open heart surgery. I had one septic patient on the floor and one in the unit, but that was child's play. I mean where was my emergent open chest, ECMO cannulation, anything.
It is a little hard to believe that I will never have to spend the night at a hospital again. It has been such a huge part of my life these ten years. I won't say that I will miss it, but the adrenaline rush could be addicting. I do want to say a Thank You to all of my patients, nurses, and residents who have taught me so much over the last 10 years of call. Now I am going to take a nap.
Therefore, on this my last night of call, I came prepared for nothing short of Armageddon. I mean seriously this is the last chance that call fate has to hurt me. I figure it would at least make it interesting. I even felt somewhat invincible. I mean after you have survived 10 years of surgical training, you feel that you can survive anything for 24 hours. I felt sure that we would at least have a dissection or esophageal perforation - transplant maybe. Alas, we had nothing. I talked to a few outpatients to reassure them that it is normal to have some discomfort after open heart surgery. I had one septic patient on the floor and one in the unit, but that was child's play. I mean where was my emergent open chest, ECMO cannulation, anything.
It is a little hard to believe that I will never have to spend the night at a hospital again. It has been such a huge part of my life these ten years. I won't say that I will miss it, but the adrenaline rush could be addicting. I do want to say a Thank You to all of my patients, nurses, and residents who have taught me so much over the last 10 years of call. Now I am going to take a nap.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Last Call
Ten years is a long time to be a resident. Anyone that tries to convince you otherwise is crazy. However, I can say that it has gone by incredibly fast. I remember my very first night on call. It was "home" call at University hospital. I lay awake all night petrified every time the pager went off. I was still looking up how to order Tylenol.
I have spent a large portion of the next ten years on call. My heart no longer races when the phone goes off, and thankfully the only medications that I regulate these days are pressors, but at the end of the day call hasn't changed all that much. It is still an exhausting and at times exhilarating experience. However it is one that I am willing to give up.
I am 7 hours into my last 24 hours of resident call ever. I expected a certain amount of giddiness today perhaps even a little swagger. Maybe as the day wears on it will show. As of now, tomorrow still seems to far away. It probably doesn't help that I only got 3 hours of sleep Friday night and 5 hours last night. I have been trying to take a nap this morning, but have been inundated with patient calls.
Another thing that hasn't changed, I survive call by dreaming of the things to do post call. It is often as simple as a long hot shower. Tomorrow I have to run a few errands, and then I want to revisit some of my favorite Philly places. It may be my last chance before I leave. Here's hoping that the rest of my call cooperates with my plans.
I have spent a large portion of the next ten years on call. My heart no longer races when the phone goes off, and thankfully the only medications that I regulate these days are pressors, but at the end of the day call hasn't changed all that much. It is still an exhausting and at times exhilarating experience. However it is one that I am willing to give up.
I am 7 hours into my last 24 hours of resident call ever. I expected a certain amount of giddiness today perhaps even a little swagger. Maybe as the day wears on it will show. As of now, tomorrow still seems to far away. It probably doesn't help that I only got 3 hours of sleep Friday night and 5 hours last night. I have been trying to take a nap this morning, but have been inundated with patient calls.
Another thing that hasn't changed, I survive call by dreaming of the things to do post call. It is often as simple as a long hot shower. Tomorrow I have to run a few errands, and then I want to revisit some of my favorite Philly places. It may be my last chance before I leave. Here's hoping that the rest of my call cooperates with my plans.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
The difference a year makes
As some of you might recall, when I started this blog one year ago, I had just been royally screwed by my movers. Therefore, as you might imagine, I approached this whole move with much trepidation. Oh what a difference. As promised, the movers called yesterday to tell me exactly what time they would be here this morning. Then, they actually showed up right on time. Four men with gruff Philly accents that I have never met, then proceeded to touch everything that I own. I admit that part takes some getting used to, but the sitting here while all the packing and loading is done is great. I will never move myself again.
As I sit here mooching off someone's Internet, the guys are loading up the last of my belongings. There has been much ribbing about how many clothes that I have (they actually had to call and have some deliver more boxes), but the move has gone smoothly. They also commented on my obsessive organization, and laughed at me as I walked around behind them picking up trash. I can't help it - I can't leave trash on the floor. Once everything is out of here, I am hoping to grab a quick shower and then I am off to my Sugarland/Kenny Chesney concert. I am actually glad that I have plans because sitting here in a empty dark apartment would be depressing. Last day of in house call ever is tomorrow. I am WAY excited, but after last call expecting the worst. I officially leave Philly on Wednesday. Looks like the last of the boxes are heading out - do you tip these guys and if so how much???? Guess I should have thought of this earlier.
As I sit here mooching off someone's Internet, the guys are loading up the last of my belongings. There has been much ribbing about how many clothes that I have (they actually had to call and have some deliver more boxes), but the move has gone smoothly. They also commented on my obsessive organization, and laughed at me as I walked around behind them picking up trash. I can't help it - I can't leave trash on the floor. Once everything is out of here, I am hoping to grab a quick shower and then I am off to my Sugarland/Kenny Chesney concert. I am actually glad that I have plans because sitting here in a empty dark apartment would be depressing. Last day of in house call ever is tomorrow. I am WAY excited, but after last call expecting the worst. I officially leave Philly on Wednesday. Looks like the last of the boxes are heading out - do you tip these guys and if so how much???? Guess I should have thought of this earlier.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Lazy - Guilty as Charged
I had such grand plans. I would work here at Penn for July, take August off to move and be ready to start my new job on September 1st. Then I started doing the math - I don't like math, but was always good at it. Between now and my anticipated start date of September 1st, I need to accomplish the following:
1. obtain Florida license
2. obtain privileges for University of Miami Hospital
3. obtain privileges for Jackson Memorial Hospital
4. obtain privileges for Miami Veteran Affairs Hospital
5. fulfil billing criteria for University of Miami Physician Group
6. fly to Miami and find place to live
7. Move to Miami
8. Apply for my Thoracic boards
9. Study for my Thoracic Boards which are in October
10. Drop 40 lbs and increase my bust size by at least 3 cups
Oh, and did I forget that I was still expecting to hold down a truly "full time" job plus extra shifts on the weekend for money. What planet am I living on?
I have spent the better part of the last two days trying to accomplish number one, and am still days away from being even close to filing - much less obtaining a license to practice medicine in Florida. (No offense Jessica, but attorneys complicate things.) I spent much of my day at the police station being fingerprinted. I can't even wrap my mind around the remainder of the list. Don't worry #10 is a joke - at least mostly.
Therefore, today I came up with a new plan. Seven days from today will officially be my last day of training. After 10 years of post-graduate training, I am taking a break - a two month one. I decided after 120 months of residency - two months off would not cause the world to spin off it's axis. (Now this is just a theory, so if gravity starts failing us in July we know that I am to blame.) Hopefully this will not only allow me to complete my list, but add a few fun things to it. Perhaps visit some friends, get some munchkin time with Matt and Grace, sleep - dare I even say relax.
A voice inside of my head keeps telling me that this makes me lazy. It is probably right - I'll just learn to be okay with it.
1. obtain Florida license
2. obtain privileges for University of Miami Hospital
3. obtain privileges for Jackson Memorial Hospital
4. obtain privileges for Miami Veteran Affairs Hospital
5. fulfil billing criteria for University of Miami Physician Group
6. fly to Miami and find place to live
7. Move to Miami
8. Apply for my Thoracic boards
9. Study for my Thoracic Boards which are in October
10. Drop 40 lbs and increase my bust size by at least 3 cups
Oh, and did I forget that I was still expecting to hold down a truly "full time" job plus extra shifts on the weekend for money. What planet am I living on?
I have spent the better part of the last two days trying to accomplish number one, and am still days away from being even close to filing - much less obtaining a license to practice medicine in Florida. (No offense Jessica, but attorneys complicate things.) I spent much of my day at the police station being fingerprinted. I can't even wrap my mind around the remainder of the list. Don't worry #10 is a joke - at least mostly.
Therefore, today I came up with a new plan. Seven days from today will officially be my last day of training. After 10 years of post-graduate training, I am taking a break - a two month one. I decided after 120 months of residency - two months off would not cause the world to spin off it's axis. (Now this is just a theory, so if gravity starts failing us in July we know that I am to blame.) Hopefully this will not only allow me to complete my list, but add a few fun things to it. Perhaps visit some friends, get some munchkin time with Matt and Grace, sleep - dare I even say relax.
A voice inside of my head keeps telling me that this makes me lazy. It is probably right - I'll just learn to be okay with it.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Expectations
I expected that finding a job would offer me: a huge sense of relief, a good night's sleep, freedom from stress, a couple of day's of rest. What it has given me: a ridiculous amount of paperwork to fill out, stress over finding a place to life, insomnia from inability to turn off my brain. Be careful for what you wish.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Apologies to Ella Fitzgerald
At last my job has come along
My unemployed days are over
And life is like a song
At last the skies above are blue
My heart loves the ocean
My job I finally found you
I found a job that I could speak to
A job that I could call my own
I found a job to look forward to
I job I never dreamed of
I saw the Ocean and the spell was cast
Now I'm moving to Heaven
For the job is mine at last
At last my job has come along
My unemployed days are over
And Life is like a song
Miami here I come!!
thanks for sticking it out with me everyone.
My unemployed days are over
And life is like a song
At last the skies above are blue
My heart loves the ocean
My job I finally found you
I found a job that I could speak to
A job that I could call my own
I found a job to look forward to
I job I never dreamed of
I saw the Ocean and the spell was cast
Now I'm moving to Heaven
For the job is mine at last
At last my job has come along
My unemployed days are over
And Life is like a song
Miami here I come!!
thanks for sticking it out with me everyone.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Confidence
Webster's defines confidence as a "a feeling or consciousness of one's powers or of reliance on one's circumstances." If asked, most people would describe me as a very confident person some would even use the word arrogant. The people who know me best would tell you that a fair degree of my "confidence" is an act to hide my insecurities. I think that is true about a lot of surgeons. Our "arrogance" is often an over exaggerated confidence that we are using to hide our insecurities. The insecurities can come from lots of places, and believe me mine do.
However, my performance at work has never been my insecurity source. I may not be the smartest doctor on the planet, but I am a good surgeon. I have good judgement, good bedside manner, and great hands. Or at least I once thought. The most frustrating part of this whole job search saga is that it has rocked my confidence the one place that it was true and not an act. It has made me question my abilities as a surgeon. I hate it! Why am I giving away power to these men?
I think somewhere deep down inside the confident resourceful girl still exists. I just need to dig deep and find her.
However, my performance at work has never been my insecurity source. I may not be the smartest doctor on the planet, but I am a good surgeon. I have good judgement, good bedside manner, and great hands. Or at least I once thought. The most frustrating part of this whole job search saga is that it has rocked my confidence the one place that it was true and not an act. It has made me question my abilities as a surgeon. I hate it! Why am I giving away power to these men?
I think somewhere deep down inside the confident resourceful girl still exists. I just need to dig deep and find her.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Sleep Deprived Musings
Fact - 6 hours of sleep in 48 hours is not enough for my 36 year old brain. Now I can proudly tell tales of "when I was a resident before the 80 hour work week" and we lived at the hospital. Stories of every other night call and days with almost zero sleep. Those stories would be true, but they were a different time - most notably, I a lot younger me time. I mean 10 years is a LONG time (decade as a matter of fact), and I personally think surgical years count something like dog years - each year should really count for at least three.
Why am I sleep deprived? Well I took a tour of airports the last two days. I am working on becoming quite the connoisseur. I went up for my interview at U Mass Tuesday evening. My plane was 4 hours late leaving Philly. I didn't make it to my hotel room until midnight. My flight back yesterday was 5 hours late, and I crawled very meekly into my bed at 3 this morning. As an aside, there should be laws against alarm clocks that go off at 5 am. We have 8 cases today so no rest for the VERY weary.
My interview went well - I think. I no longer trust my read on these things. (As a matter of fact I am currently having a serious crisis of confidence, but will leave that to another day.) I found New England to be quite charming, and the job has definite possibility. I fly (or at least attempt) to Miami on Monday. This entire experience, for lack of a better word, has been a great character builder and all, but I seriously need it to be over soon. I am not sure how much more I can take - mentally or physically.
Three cases down - five more to go. Just got to hold on.
Why am I sleep deprived? Well I took a tour of airports the last two days. I am working on becoming quite the connoisseur. I went up for my interview at U Mass Tuesday evening. My plane was 4 hours late leaving Philly. I didn't make it to my hotel room until midnight. My flight back yesterday was 5 hours late, and I crawled very meekly into my bed at 3 this morning. As an aside, there should be laws against alarm clocks that go off at 5 am. We have 8 cases today so no rest for the VERY weary.
My interview went well - I think. I no longer trust my read on these things. (As a matter of fact I am currently having a serious crisis of confidence, but will leave that to another day.) I found New England to be quite charming, and the job has definite possibility. I fly (or at least attempt) to Miami on Monday. This entire experience, for lack of a better word, has been a great character builder and all, but I seriously need it to be over soon. I am not sure how much more I can take - mentally or physically.
Three cases down - five more to go. Just got to hold on.
Monday, June 8, 2009
Bad Habits
I seem to have developed several bad habits lately. Well, that is not entirely correct, some of them I have had for a while, but they seem to be exacerbated lately. I have always felt that as long as you knew your short comings you were a step up, but am now willing to admit that is just laziness. One should not only recognize their failings, but actively try to correct them. Here is my list:
Cursing - interestingly I didn't start cursing until I became a surgeon. Even then it wasn't a conscious choice, it just happened. My mom is very anti swearing. So much so that to this day, she has never heard me curse. However, my swearing away from my mother has started to bother me. It was one thing when it was an occasional word said in the OR to get a point across. Now, it almost seems that it has become part of my normal vocabulary - I don't even recognize the words as offensive anymore. I am now making a concerted effort - so far so good.
Television - I watched a lot of TV growing up. I always argue this to my friends who don't let their kids watch any TV. I think I turned out okay (for a surgeon). During my surgery training, I all but stopped watching TV altogether. I had so little free time, there was always something else I preferred to be doing. Sometime during the last 9 months, I have become a TV junkie again. It started with TV for background noise, and then winter hit and I certainly didn't want to go outside so TV for distraction. Somehow it all spiraled and my TV was on from the time I got home from work until the time I went to bed. I was getting nothing accomplished. I decided to go cold turkey this weekend. I was post call on Friday. After my nap on the couch, I woke up and started to flip on the TV. I caught myself and realized that if I did that, I would accomplish nothing else that day. Post call days can be difficult days for motivation. Therefore, I walked over and unplugged it. I spent my entire weekend off sans television, and although hard at first, it turned into a very liberating experience. I remembered things that I enjoy doing. I cleaned, walked along the Schuylkill, went shopping, read in the park, did yoga, listened to music, relaxed, etc. I will probably plug my TV back in for a little CNN occasionally, but hopefully I will now realize that life can be good without the talking heads.
Planning my life instead of living it - now this one is harder. I have spent 10 years thinking about what I would do when I "finish my training". I have grand and glorious plans. However, as I approach the end of my training, I haven't really put any of these plans into action. I still keep thinking of all the things that I will do - some day. You know, planning a great life is a lot easier than living one. To live a great life, you have to be involved and take risks. You have to put yourself out there. I once knew how to do that, but am not sure that I remember how anymore. I don't just mean with guys, I am talking about in general. The last time I got involved in something, not medically related was a really long time ago, and I am sure that Kris made me to it. This also pertains to my last bad habit . . .
Hobbies or the lack thereof - I am currently looking for my lost hobbies. I am sure that I had them once, but seem to have misplaced them during one of my moves the last 10 years. Has anyone seen them? I tried to ask around and steal some of my colleagues hobbies, but they don't have any either. They don't even play golf with any regularity. Why is it that my career choice and hobbies don't seem to go together? I think moments of rest and relaxation (i.e. the definition of what hobbies provide) is something I would want my surgeon to have plenty. He/She should feel nice and refreshed before starting my case. I still read occasionally, but not sure that this qualifies. I want to learn to play tennis - someday. I am a girl desperately in need of outside interests - ideas????
Cursing - interestingly I didn't start cursing until I became a surgeon. Even then it wasn't a conscious choice, it just happened. My mom is very anti swearing. So much so that to this day, she has never heard me curse. However, my swearing away from my mother has started to bother me. It was one thing when it was an occasional word said in the OR to get a point across. Now, it almost seems that it has become part of my normal vocabulary - I don't even recognize the words as offensive anymore. I am now making a concerted effort - so far so good.
Television - I watched a lot of TV growing up. I always argue this to my friends who don't let their kids watch any TV. I think I turned out okay (for a surgeon). During my surgery training, I all but stopped watching TV altogether. I had so little free time, there was always something else I preferred to be doing. Sometime during the last 9 months, I have become a TV junkie again. It started with TV for background noise, and then winter hit and I certainly didn't want to go outside so TV for distraction. Somehow it all spiraled and my TV was on from the time I got home from work until the time I went to bed. I was getting nothing accomplished. I decided to go cold turkey this weekend. I was post call on Friday. After my nap on the couch, I woke up and started to flip on the TV. I caught myself and realized that if I did that, I would accomplish nothing else that day. Post call days can be difficult days for motivation. Therefore, I walked over and unplugged it. I spent my entire weekend off sans television, and although hard at first, it turned into a very liberating experience. I remembered things that I enjoy doing. I cleaned, walked along the Schuylkill, went shopping, read in the park, did yoga, listened to music, relaxed, etc. I will probably plug my TV back in for a little CNN occasionally, but hopefully I will now realize that life can be good without the talking heads.
Planning my life instead of living it - now this one is harder. I have spent 10 years thinking about what I would do when I "finish my training". I have grand and glorious plans. However, as I approach the end of my training, I haven't really put any of these plans into action. I still keep thinking of all the things that I will do - some day. You know, planning a great life is a lot easier than living one. To live a great life, you have to be involved and take risks. You have to put yourself out there. I once knew how to do that, but am not sure that I remember how anymore. I don't just mean with guys, I am talking about in general. The last time I got involved in something, not medically related was a really long time ago, and I am sure that Kris made me to it. This also pertains to my last bad habit . . .
Hobbies or the lack thereof - I am currently looking for my lost hobbies. I am sure that I had them once, but seem to have misplaced them during one of my moves the last 10 years. Has anyone seen them? I tried to ask around and steal some of my colleagues hobbies, but they don't have any either. They don't even play golf with any regularity. Why is it that my career choice and hobbies don't seem to go together? I think moments of rest and relaxation (i.e. the definition of what hobbies provide) is something I would want my surgeon to have plenty. He/She should feel nice and refreshed before starting my case. I still read occasionally, but not sure that this qualifies. I want to learn to play tennis - someday. I am a girl desperately in need of outside interests - ideas????
Monday, June 1, 2009
Chivalry
I miss chivalry. I feel a little guilty making that statement, but it is true. The feminist in me points out that I am perfectly capable of opening my door, and that they make ladders for top shelves. However, the Southern girl in me knows that even though I am perfectly capable to do all those things, that there is something very nice about a guy that feels the need to do them for you.
Maybe it is related to where I grew up, or maybe it is just a character flaw that I have, but I find chivalry nice. I don't look at it as a "weaker" vs "stronger" sex. I see it as a way of showing respect and honor. I think it is okay to recognize that men and women are not the same.
That last statement will get me into trouble with some of you. It has before - it ranks right up there with my theory that women can't have it all. Perhaps it is because I mostly work with men, but the older I get the more I recognize that men and women really aren't from the same planet. I am sure that some of these differences are related to the way that boys are raised, but I am certain that some are hard-wired. I don't argue that one sex is better, but I do believe that we are different, and I think celebrating our differences is okay. Now - let the recriminations begin.
Maybe it is related to where I grew up, or maybe it is just a character flaw that I have, but I find chivalry nice. I don't look at it as a "weaker" vs "stronger" sex. I see it as a way of showing respect and honor. I think it is okay to recognize that men and women are not the same.
That last statement will get me into trouble with some of you. It has before - it ranks right up there with my theory that women can't have it all. Perhaps it is because I mostly work with men, but the older I get the more I recognize that men and women really aren't from the same planet. I am sure that some of these differences are related to the way that boys are raised, but I am certain that some are hard-wired. I don't argue that one sex is better, but I do believe that we are different, and I think celebrating our differences is okay. Now - let the recriminations begin.
Friday, May 29, 2009
roller coasters
I LOVED roller coasters growing up. . . the higher, faster, curvier, loopier the better. I knew every ride at Six Flags and Carowinds. I knew the perfect seats and the perfect time of day to ride them (it actually makes a difference - some rides are faster early and some later). I lived for that feeling you get in the pit of your stomach right as you reach the top of the hill, or the beginning of the loop. The feeling that makes your heart race and your breath come a little faster. The feeling that although you have stood there and watched a hundred people come through the ride unscathed your trip might be different. The feeling of satisfaction felt when you completed the ride as if you had conquered Mount Everest - solo without oxygen.
In medical school I learned that all of these feelings are natural, and actually our oldest genetic response. From earliest human days, life was all about survival. We developed responses known as "flight or fight". When faced with uncertainty or danger, our body is hardwired to protect itself - to survive. Our heart rate increases to raise our cardiac output. This allows us to fight off danger or to run from it. All of these responses are triggered by the release of adrenaline from ,of all places, are adrenal glands.
Some people live for this response. They purposefully put themselves into situations that trigger it. These so called "adrenaline junkies" live for the "high" that they feel with all that extra adrenaline circulating around. I have been one of those people all of my life. It is probably one of the reasons that made me a surgeon. Nothing will give you more of an adrenaline surge than being in the operating room during a tricky or dangerous case. It was my own natural high.
Some people hate this response. Their adrenaline brings with it overwhelming nausea. Instead of feeling powerful and ready to take on the world, they develop feelings of impending doom and loss of control. The are incapacitated by the adrenaline. I fear that I am becoming one of these people. This whole job search thing is starting to feel like a roller coaster that never ends. I am beginning to wonder if instead of fighting for my "survival" if it wouldn't be easier to just roll into a ball and admit defeat. I know that there is still a fighter in me - I just need to find her again.
In medical school I learned that all of these feelings are natural, and actually our oldest genetic response. From earliest human days, life was all about survival. We developed responses known as "flight or fight". When faced with uncertainty or danger, our body is hardwired to protect itself - to survive. Our heart rate increases to raise our cardiac output. This allows us to fight off danger or to run from it. All of these responses are triggered by the release of adrenaline from ,of all places, are adrenal glands.
Some people live for this response. They purposefully put themselves into situations that trigger it. These so called "adrenaline junkies" live for the "high" that they feel with all that extra adrenaline circulating around. I have been one of those people all of my life. It is probably one of the reasons that made me a surgeon. Nothing will give you more of an adrenaline surge than being in the operating room during a tricky or dangerous case. It was my own natural high.
Some people hate this response. Their adrenaline brings with it overwhelming nausea. Instead of feeling powerful and ready to take on the world, they develop feelings of impending doom and loss of control. The are incapacitated by the adrenaline. I fear that I am becoming one of these people. This whole job search thing is starting to feel like a roller coaster that never ends. I am beginning to wonder if instead of fighting for my "survival" if it wouldn't be easier to just roll into a ball and admit defeat. I know that there is still a fighter in me - I just need to find her again.
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