10 years ago:
Trying to make it through my surgery rotation my third year of medical school. I got home at 9pm the very first day and burst into tears as I walked through the door. And I'm not much of a weeper. I was living with an older man, a scarily ambitious member of the intelligentsia who was the most self-absorbed asshole I ever hope to meet.
1 year ago:
Doing resident interviews. And I was on call one year ago tonight.
Snacks I enjoy:
- Jelly Bellies
- Peanut butter, straight up
- Chocolate ice cream with peanut butter in it
Can't think of any more. I don't much like snacks. I like breakfast and dinner, the rest is kind of a chore.
- Itsy-Bitsy Spider
- Senor Don Gato
That's it. I can't remember lyrics for shit.
- Get a house with a parking spot
- Pay off my student loans
- Keep a nanny on call for when HB has a fever and can't go to daycare and for occasional evenings out
- Visit Australia and New Zealand
- Buy a house for my brother
- Candy
- People magazine
- Staying up too late
- Sleeping too late on workdays
- Blogging
- Sleeping with the baby
- Running
- Reading the Sunday papers while someone else runs herd on the baby
- Blogging
- Sitting on the patio in the summer drinking drinky-drinks
- Painfully pointy shoes
- Alpaca anything
- Heavy earrings
- Plastic flip-flops
- Nightgowns
- My mac
- My Scion XB
- My Zach & Dani's coffee roaster
- My white-noise machine
- Froogle
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4 comments:
It's interesting...you don't say why you burst into tears. Was it just a release from tension or was it really hard.
I'm one of those idiotic people who is like 'oops I forgot to go to medical school!' I just don't understand why I have this idea that I should have gone to medical school.
We need more than one lifetime.
Nanny on call. Right on!
Chocolate ice cream with peanut butter is a nice snack but I'm not much of a snack person but I also hate meals. I wish they made food pellets or something that eliminated the need/desire to eat regularly. I want to suck in my meals in 30 seconds like an astronaut. Also, sleep is a bitch.
But what about this intelligensia guy? You are such a mystery woman! I want to know more.
(bihari ... i am whispering so no one else hears ... i never met any one else who subscribes to People. i thought i was alone in my shameful addiction.)
I cried because I couldn't imagine how I was going to make it through three solid months of getting up at 4 and coming home at 9. I'm not sure how I did, in the end.
Maybe I'll talk about the ex one day, but I almost don't want to fan the flames of his narcissism by talking about him, even though he'd never see it (and if he did he wouldn't recognize it).
Aw, DoctorMama, don't scare a poor second year medical student like that... she who sets her own nose was reduced to tears by day *one* of a third year surgery rotation?? C'mon, I'm trying to tell myself that third year is the light at the end of the tunnel - no more 8 hours a day in the classroom. It gets better... right?
For the most part, I really had a great time my third year of med school. But I went to a hard-core, old-school institution where students were on overnight call in the hospital every fourth night all year long, and we stayed post call till 5 or so, and had no guaranteed days off except for christmas break. I think times have changed everywhere; I know that the most recent med schools I've taught at are approximately 50% as time-intensive as my third year was. Of course, some things about that experience were valuable to me, but I could have used less abuse in terms of time commitment.
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