We all know and love and fear the term "Black Cloud." I'm never quite sure how to define this for my non-medical friends and family:
Black Cloud (adjective): 1. a term used to describe a medical trainee whose pager beeps incessantly, 2. a term used to describe a medical trainee who never gets sleep on call, 3. a term used to describe a medical trainee who admits multiple ("train wreck") patients per night, 4. a term used to describe a medical trainee whose pager number is on speed-dial in the emergency room
Pretty much every one of these definitions could be used to describe me over the past two months. Hell, over the past seven years. As a resident, there were some attendings who dreaded being on call with me, knowing that there would be multiple consults to round on and trauma to operate on all night.
But we Black Clouds have to wear our pagers and dark circles with pride. Pride (coupled with multiple cups of coffee) is the only way we can hold our heads up...from nodding off. We chalk up our experiences to "learning opportunities." There has been no shortage of learning for me recently.
As a result of my Black Cloud status, it's been a bit of a dry spell here at SATS. Well, I take that back. I am having a torrid love affair--with Hospital. We spend all of our time together. We call each other constantly. We can't get enough of each other. We learn more about each other every day and our bond just grows stronger.
But in all seriousness, as a result of my love affair with Hospital, there hasn't been much room for anyone else in my life. It's amazing how little time an 90+ hour workweek leaves for anything else. Just trying to maintain relationships with my family can be a challenge. I'm embarrassed to say that I finished my Christmas shopping on December 27th.
I know that the love affair with Hospital and the Black Cloud status have an expiration date. I know that I will eventually be able to re-enter normal life. I know that the more Black Cloud experiences I have, the better physician and surgeon I will be. But in the meantime, in these few days I have off for the holidays, I will slumber.
Beep, beep, beep!
Friday, December 30, 2011
Saturday, October 22, 2011
All the Single Ladies
Grad Stud #2 recently sent me an email and re-entered my life. Not to worry ladies, Grad Stud #1 is completely out of the picture.
Grad Stud #2 and I have an amazing epistolary relationship. We fire emails back and forth regarding our mutual disdain for the Republican debates, the lack of universal health coverage in our country, NPR...I could go on and on about the email courtship of two left-leaning individuals.
So what's the problem, right? When I meet him in real life, there's just...nothing. I'm not sure I feel attracted to him physically and the conversation is overly animated witty repartee on my side to make up for the lack of emotion and utter seriousness on his side. I've tried to pass it off to nerves on his end...but you'd think that after three dates that maybe things would loosen up a bit.
Tonight I'm going to tell him that we should just be friends.
Aside from Grad Stud #2, there have been a couple other dates since the last post way back in August, but these were also lackluster. I went out with one really weird dude who still sends me short little email snippets (i.e. "Hope things are well with you!"). I guess it's amusing. The other guy...we just didn't mesh.
Honestly, though I occasionally have moments where I want to meet someone and do the whole "settling down" thing, I am more frequently terrified by that idea.
I see the majority of my high school, college, and med school classmates on Facebook with their S.O.'s and pictures of children growing by leaps and bounds. I feel like I'm supposed to want all of that.
But instead, I really really love my job. If I have learned anything in the last couple months, it's that I missed clinical medicine last year while I was on research. I love being able to spend time on my job and not be pulled in a million directions. I love having an active and drama-free social life. I love being available to help out my family when they need it. And most of all...I love having my freedom. Some of my settled friends might call these feelings "delayed adulthood" brought on by extra years of training. Another word I have heard is "selfishness." Or maybe this is just the way I am built.
Though I may be single, I am not alone in my sentiments. There are more and more single women out there who are single by choice or by the reality of a lack of suitable partners. This article from The Atlantic ("All the Single Ladies") poignantly and eloquently states the case.
One of my mentors told me that in order to be a good surgeon and researcher, I might have to find a path all my own and that my professional future may look different than I expect. Perhaps the same is true for the personal futures of us single ladies. Maybe the future of relationships isn't the nuclear family with 2.5 children. Maybe we will create new realities, relationships, and families that are unique to each individual.
Grad Stud #2 and I have an amazing epistolary relationship. We fire emails back and forth regarding our mutual disdain for the Republican debates, the lack of universal health coverage in our country, NPR...I could go on and on about the email courtship of two left-leaning individuals.
So what's the problem, right? When I meet him in real life, there's just...nothing. I'm not sure I feel attracted to him physically and the conversation is overly animated witty repartee on my side to make up for the lack of emotion and utter seriousness on his side. I've tried to pass it off to nerves on his end...but you'd think that after three dates that maybe things would loosen up a bit.
Tonight I'm going to tell him that we should just be friends.
Aside from Grad Stud #2, there have been a couple other dates since the last post way back in August, but these were also lackluster. I went out with one really weird dude who still sends me short little email snippets (i.e. "Hope things are well with you!"). I guess it's amusing. The other guy...we just didn't mesh.
Honestly, though I occasionally have moments where I want to meet someone and do the whole "settling down" thing, I am more frequently terrified by that idea.
I see the majority of my high school, college, and med school classmates on Facebook with their S.O.'s and pictures of children growing by leaps and bounds. I feel like I'm supposed to want all of that.
But instead, I really really love my job. If I have learned anything in the last couple months, it's that I missed clinical medicine last year while I was on research. I love being able to spend time on my job and not be pulled in a million directions. I love having an active and drama-free social life. I love being available to help out my family when they need it. And most of all...I love having my freedom. Some of my settled friends might call these feelings "delayed adulthood" brought on by extra years of training. Another word I have heard is "selfishness." Or maybe this is just the way I am built.
Though I may be single, I am not alone in my sentiments. There are more and more single women out there who are single by choice or by the reality of a lack of suitable partners. This article from The Atlantic ("All the Single Ladies") poignantly and eloquently states the case.
One of my mentors told me that in order to be a good surgeon and researcher, I might have to find a path all my own and that my professional future may look different than I expect. Perhaps the same is true for the personal futures of us single ladies. Maybe the future of relationships isn't the nuclear family with 2.5 children. Maybe we will create new realities, relationships, and families that are unique to each individual.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Physician, Heal Thyself...Financially
For those of you in the Eastern Time Zone being pummeled by Hurricane Irene as I am, here's a little bit of educational leisure reading from the NY Times about the mistakes physicians make in their financial lives.
I noticed over the course of my residency, that many of my colleagues sank themselves in credit card debt. As the article mentions, ours is a profession of delayed gratification. Once we finally start making even a little bit of money as residents, it's tempting to go out and indulge a bit after a tough day at work. Unfortunately, in addition to massive amounts of student loan debt, many also end up with massive credit card debt and little savings. We basically mortgage our future income. I think this hit is doubly hard on those who have children during residency. From what I've seen, many live paycheck to paycheck, relying on credit cards to make up the difference.
It's not hard to see that this is a bad idea, especially in today's economy and litigious environment.
Some ideas: make a budget, read up on financial issues, put some money away in a Roth IRA during residency. My residency program had a yearly retreat and brought in a financial planner to talk to us about all those practical things that we otherwise don't have time to think about during our training. If your program has a didactic series, lobby for a session on financial planning.
We should approach the financial aspect of our lives in the same way we approach medicine--careful study and planning for the best possible outcome with the least amount of damage.
I noticed over the course of my residency, that many of my colleagues sank themselves in credit card debt. As the article mentions, ours is a profession of delayed gratification. Once we finally start making even a little bit of money as residents, it's tempting to go out and indulge a bit after a tough day at work. Unfortunately, in addition to massive amounts of student loan debt, many also end up with massive credit card debt and little savings. We basically mortgage our future income. I think this hit is doubly hard on those who have children during residency. From what I've seen, many live paycheck to paycheck, relying on credit cards to make up the difference.
It's not hard to see that this is a bad idea, especially in today's economy and litigious environment.
Some ideas: make a budget, read up on financial issues, put some money away in a Roth IRA during residency. My residency program had a yearly retreat and brought in a financial planner to talk to us about all those practical things that we otherwise don't have time to think about during our training. If your program has a didactic series, lobby for a session on financial planning.
We should approach the financial aspect of our lives in the same way we approach medicine--careful study and planning for the best possible outcome with the least amount of damage.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
More on the (Student) Debt Ceiling
As a follow-up to my earlier post on the effect of the debt deal on student loans, here's a timely article from The Huffington Post on how to deal with the new regulations on Stafford loans for graduate and professional school. Timely topic for the new first years and those going through the application process.
Welcome Freshmen!
I was walking to the gym yesterday when I spotted some bright-eyed and bushy-tailed young twenty-somethings in shiny, new short white coats. It's that time of year again--the matriculation of medical students.
As I bustled by, I couldn't help but feel a bit nostalgic. I started medical school exactly a decade ago.
As I watched the new medical students take pictures with their families, I felt a lot of mixed emotions. On one hand, I am so excited for these newbies. I can honestly say that they are entering one of the most intriguing jobs a person can have. As physicians, we have such wonderful opportunities in so many arenas. We get to meet interesting and incredible people, including our patients and colleagues. We get to see and do things that most everyone doesn't. We get to learn, research, teach, travel. We have great job security.
However, with those great benefits come incredible risks. When non-medical people ask me about my medical education and residency, I quote Dickens:
"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times."
The best of times for all of the reasons I stated above, but also the worst of times for the many sacrifices we make to do this--personally, mentally, physically, financially. We get to push ourselves to the limits of our beings in order to do what we do. I don't need to go into the gory details, we all know them.
Though it sounds cheesy, the emotion that overtook all of the others when I saw those medical students was an incredible sense of pride. Pride that I made it through, and pride that there are still people who want to do this despite the risks and benefits.
As I bustled by, I couldn't help but feel a bit nostalgic. I started medical school exactly a decade ago.
As I watched the new medical students take pictures with their families, I felt a lot of mixed emotions. On one hand, I am so excited for these newbies. I can honestly say that they are entering one of the most intriguing jobs a person can have. As physicians, we have such wonderful opportunities in so many arenas. We get to meet interesting and incredible people, including our patients and colleagues. We get to see and do things that most everyone doesn't. We get to learn, research, teach, travel. We have great job security.
However, with those great benefits come incredible risks. When non-medical people ask me about my medical education and residency, I quote Dickens:
"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times."
The best of times for all of the reasons I stated above, but also the worst of times for the many sacrifices we make to do this--personally, mentally, physically, financially. We get to push ourselves to the limits of our beings in order to do what we do. I don't need to go into the gory details, we all know them.
Though it sounds cheesy, the emotion that overtook all of the others when I saw those medical students was an incredible sense of pride. Pride that I made it through, and pride that there are still people who want to do this despite the risks and benefits.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
The (Student) Debt Ceiling
How many of you are carrying student debt that is the equivalent of a mortgage on a modest new home in the Central Time Zone? According to recent data, American medical students graduate with an average of $158,000 in student loans. Check out this item from The New York Times Well blog for more terrifying med student loan stats.
On Sunday, our Congressional leaders arrived at a deal to raise the debt ceiling, but students in professional schools and graduate programs are going to suffer as a result of this. The deal cut the subsidy on Stafford loans (so all Stafford loans will be unsubsidized and will accumulate interest while you're in school) and the interest rate cuts for people who make timely loan payments when the loans go into repayment. Check out this story from CNN Money.
Though student loans seem like an issue focused on individuals, it is increasingly becoming a major health policy problem that is finally garnering the press it deserves. For example, the blog post above from NY Times, The Huffington Post, and a recent article in Academic Medicine which chronicles the history of student loans amongst medical professionals. This article makes for interesting reading--do we really know how much it costs to educate a medical student? Is it really to the tune of $60,000 per year?
The prohibitive costs and debt associated with medical schools are affecting the practice of medicine throughout the physician workforce pipeline. High potential debt and the lack of support for medical students affects the applicant pool for medical school, increasingly making medical school a luxury for the more well-off. This leads to a lack of diversity amongst the applicant pool and medical professionals in general.
Additionally, I think medical student debt is one of the many causes for the primary care physician shortage. Students choose higher paying, procedural-based specialties because they pay better and allow physicians to pay off massive amounts of debt more comfortably and in a quicker timeline. In the Well blog post I mentioned earlier, the author talks about how it took her attending 15 years to pay off his debt. Do I really want to be paying off my own student debt into my 50's, while trying to save or pay for my own kids' educations?
I recently took a health policy class that has opened my eyes to many of these issues. Ladies, and you brave gents who read this blog, let's all get educated on these issues. Big changes are coming for American physicians, and we need to have a voice.
On Sunday, our Congressional leaders arrived at a deal to raise the debt ceiling, but students in professional schools and graduate programs are going to suffer as a result of this. The deal cut the subsidy on Stafford loans (so all Stafford loans will be unsubsidized and will accumulate interest while you're in school) and the interest rate cuts for people who make timely loan payments when the loans go into repayment. Check out this story from CNN Money.
Though student loans seem like an issue focused on individuals, it is increasingly becoming a major health policy problem that is finally garnering the press it deserves. For example, the blog post above from NY Times, The Huffington Post, and a recent article in Academic Medicine which chronicles the history of student loans amongst medical professionals. This article makes for interesting reading--do we really know how much it costs to educate a medical student? Is it really to the tune of $60,000 per year?
The prohibitive costs and debt associated with medical schools are affecting the practice of medicine throughout the physician workforce pipeline. High potential debt and the lack of support for medical students affects the applicant pool for medical school, increasingly making medical school a luxury for the more well-off. This leads to a lack of diversity amongst the applicant pool and medical professionals in general.
Additionally, I think medical student debt is one of the many causes for the primary care physician shortage. Students choose higher paying, procedural-based specialties because they pay better and allow physicians to pay off massive amounts of debt more comfortably and in a quicker timeline. In the Well blog post I mentioned earlier, the author talks about how it took her attending 15 years to pay off his debt. Do I really want to be paying off my own student debt into my 50's, while trying to save or pay for my own kids' educations?
I recently took a health policy class that has opened my eyes to many of these issues. Ladies, and you brave gents who read this blog, let's all get educated on these issues. Big changes are coming for American physicians, and we need to have a voice.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
A Follow-Up
Hi ladies.
As a follow-up to my last post, here is an article from The Huffington Post that highlights current controversies on what kind of behavior is accepted from women in the workplace. It makes a good case for continuing to be who you are.
Enjoy!
As a follow-up to my last post, here is an article from The Huffington Post that highlights current controversies on what kind of behavior is accepted from women in the workplace. It makes a good case for continuing to be who you are.
Enjoy!
Thursday, July 21, 2011
A Tale of Two Philosophies
It has been a year since I have been in the clinical/surgical world, and perhaps understandably, I am having some anxiety about returning to it.
Yesterday, I had two interesting, yet contrasting conversations with two very different people.
The first conversation was with one of my male surgical colleagues. He was imparting wisdom about my return to a very high pressure environment and told me that the only way I would survive is by putting on a "big personality" to compensate for my petite size and my femaleness. Though he wasn't explicit in his characterization of a "big personality," I could easily glean what he was getting at. Namely that I needed to act more like a male surgeon--be aggressive, speak loudly, and always be ready to tear someone's head off. He said that unless I took on these attributes, I would be "steamrolled."
The other conversation was with one of my female non-surgical colleagues. We were talking about how to succeed, well maybe more like survive, in medicine. We both felt pressured to take on "big personalities" in our respective fields. However, the crux of our discussion was that taking on "male" qualities, such as those listed above, essentially went against our true personalities.
What would I say about my true personality? I'm not aggressive, but I'm not passive. I'm good at collaboration. I like taking everyone's opinions into account--including non-MD personnel, and especially the patient. I'm a great listener. I like having a peaceful, humorous, respectful OR where everyone feels comfortable in pursuing the common goal of caring for a patient as best we can. I'm good at choosing my battles and then fighting them in an honorable manner. I like multi-tasking and being detail oriented.
Many of my male colleagues like to proudly tell stories about how they yelled at a nurse or some other war stories. I am proud of the fact that I can count on one hand the times that I have raised my voice in the hospital.
Consistently throughout my training, I have been told that "female" qualities don't matter and they constitute weakness. When I was a visiting medical student, an attending told me in a paper evaluation that I wasn't assertive or aggressive enough to be in surgery. Maybe he was the one who lacked assertiveness because he couldn't tell me that to my face.
But I'd like to turn that around and say that my greatest strength is the fact that I've found success by staying true to my personality, and by finding partners in care instead of by making enemies.
Medicine is headed for a field change, and "customer service" is going to be a huge part of that, as evidenced by this New York Times article.
For you ladies in surgery or any other field of medicine, don't feel pressured to be something that you're not.
Yesterday, I had two interesting, yet contrasting conversations with two very different people.
The first conversation was with one of my male surgical colleagues. He was imparting wisdom about my return to a very high pressure environment and told me that the only way I would survive is by putting on a "big personality" to compensate for my petite size and my femaleness. Though he wasn't explicit in his characterization of a "big personality," I could easily glean what he was getting at. Namely that I needed to act more like a male surgeon--be aggressive, speak loudly, and always be ready to tear someone's head off. He said that unless I took on these attributes, I would be "steamrolled."
The other conversation was with one of my female non-surgical colleagues. We were talking about how to succeed, well maybe more like survive, in medicine. We both felt pressured to take on "big personalities" in our respective fields. However, the crux of our discussion was that taking on "male" qualities, such as those listed above, essentially went against our true personalities.
What would I say about my true personality? I'm not aggressive, but I'm not passive. I'm good at collaboration. I like taking everyone's opinions into account--including non-MD personnel, and especially the patient. I'm a great listener. I like having a peaceful, humorous, respectful OR where everyone feels comfortable in pursuing the common goal of caring for a patient as best we can. I'm good at choosing my battles and then fighting them in an honorable manner. I like multi-tasking and being detail oriented.
Many of my male colleagues like to proudly tell stories about how they yelled at a nurse or some other war stories. I am proud of the fact that I can count on one hand the times that I have raised my voice in the hospital.
Consistently throughout my training, I have been told that "female" qualities don't matter and they constitute weakness. When I was a visiting medical student, an attending told me in a paper evaluation that I wasn't assertive or aggressive enough to be in surgery. Maybe he was the one who lacked assertiveness because he couldn't tell me that to my face.
But I'd like to turn that around and say that my greatest strength is the fact that I've found success by staying true to my personality, and by finding partners in care instead of by making enemies.
Medicine is headed for a field change, and "customer service" is going to be a huge part of that, as evidenced by this New York Times article.
For you ladies in surgery or any other field of medicine, don't feel pressured to be something that you're not.
Friday, July 15, 2011
Busy Busy Busy Busy
My apologies, ladies. I know it's been a long hiatus. It ends now. As a personal policy, I generally don't make excuses for disappearing off the face of the planet, but I figured the best way to get everyone caught up would be a list of excuses. Here goes:
1. Grad Stud #1
2. Grad Stud #2
3. Hanging out with friends
4. Art historian
5. Research projects
6. Bartender
7. Research projects
8. Debaucherous annual meeting
9. Research projects
10a. Boyfriend (See item #1)
10b. Ex-Boyfriend (Again, see item #1)
Yep. I think that sums up my spring and early summer quite nicely.
Amidst writing a grant proposal, getting nowhere fast on many research projects, and winding down the joy that was my unfettered research year, I went on a whole hell of a lot of dates.
At one point, there were approximately four different men in my life (yes, two grad students, an art historian, and a bartender), but this situation became utterly unmanageable. Have any of you tried to date multiple men at once? It is exhausting. It's like having a part time job on top of a full time job.
Luckily, it turned out that of all the men, there was one frontrunner: Grad Stud #1--the gentleman from a previous post. We had the DTR* in mid-May and decided to become boyfriend and girlfriend (awwww...).
Alas, but the blissfulness only lasted a measly 6 weeks. Grad Stud #1is trying to finish his thesis by next May. And the regular schedule of research is ending for me. He didn't have time for me, and he didn't want to be the third wheel in the relationship between me and Pager. After all, Pager and I are literally joined at the hip.
So, he ended it.
Career issues strike again!
Our relationship was so fleeting and the time we spent together so minimal due to his work, that it's not a huge deal to get back to the way that I have been for the past nearly 2 years--single and female and a surgeon. I would venture to say that we hardly even knew each other really, and he didn't feel like we would have time to figure out whether we were compatible for the long haul. He also was a little younger than me and he didn't want to "waste my time" because he thought I was worried about my biological clock.
I'm seriously getting angry just writing this.
Despite his fallacious beliefs, truly the burning question for me out of this relationship--and I'm sure for many others out there--is how can two professionals date? With intense work schedules, career building, and busy social lives, how can we meet men and then how can we actually find time to get to know each other?
I grapple with this question on a daily basis, but I think it comes down to the fact that two people have to have the maturity, foresight, flexibility, understanding, and time management skills to make the relationship a priority in their lives, just like every other pressing thing. At least, that's what I've seen with my friends who are professional couples (and I'm not just talking about physician couples).
*Define the Relationship talk
1. Grad Stud #1
2. Grad Stud #2
3. Hanging out with friends
4. Art historian
5. Research projects
6. Bartender
7. Research projects
8. Debaucherous annual meeting
9. Research projects
10a. Boyfriend (See item #1)
10b. Ex-Boyfriend (Again, see item #1)
Yep. I think that sums up my spring and early summer quite nicely.
Amidst writing a grant proposal, getting nowhere fast on many research projects, and winding down the joy that was my unfettered research year, I went on a whole hell of a lot of dates.
At one point, there were approximately four different men in my life (yes, two grad students, an art historian, and a bartender), but this situation became utterly unmanageable. Have any of you tried to date multiple men at once? It is exhausting. It's like having a part time job on top of a full time job.
Luckily, it turned out that of all the men, there was one frontrunner: Grad Stud #1--the gentleman from a previous post. We had the DTR* in mid-May and decided to become boyfriend and girlfriend (awwww...).
Alas, but the blissfulness only lasted a measly 6 weeks. Grad Stud #1is trying to finish his thesis by next May. And the regular schedule of research is ending for me. He didn't have time for me, and he didn't want to be the third wheel in the relationship between me and Pager. After all, Pager and I are literally joined at the hip.
So, he ended it.
Career issues strike again!
Our relationship was so fleeting and the time we spent together so minimal due to his work, that it's not a huge deal to get back to the way that I have been for the past nearly 2 years--single and female and a surgeon. I would venture to say that we hardly even knew each other really, and he didn't feel like we would have time to figure out whether we were compatible for the long haul. He also was a little younger than me and he didn't want to "waste my time" because he thought I was worried about my biological clock.
I'm seriously getting angry just writing this.
Despite his fallacious beliefs, truly the burning question for me out of this relationship--and I'm sure for many others out there--is how can two professionals date? With intense work schedules, career building, and busy social lives, how can we meet men and then how can we actually find time to get to know each other?
I grapple with this question on a daily basis, but I think it comes down to the fact that two people have to have the maturity, foresight, flexibility, understanding, and time management skills to make the relationship a priority in their lives, just like every other pressing thing. At least, that's what I've seen with my friends who are professional couples (and I'm not just talking about physician couples).
*Define the Relationship talk
Saturday, April 16, 2011
A Grave Disease
Tonight as I was riding the subway home after being out with friends, I had an odd experience. As I was stepping onto the platform for my home stop, I noticed a homeless man with a sign which stated:
"Thyroid disease. Please help."
He was holding a plastic cup out for money. He had severe exophthalmos--the characteristic stigmata of Grave's Disease, which is an autoimmune disease that leads to overactivity of the thyroid gland. It can be life threatening if not controlled due to a situation called "thyroid storm." This is exactly what you'd think it is: such an overabundance of thyroid hormone that it revs up the entire body.
To anyone outside of medicine, this man's exophthalmos coupled with his poverty would probably be a source of fear or mockery. I initially started walking away, remembering my personal policy to not give money to homeless people, and to give of my time and talent when I am done with my training.
But for some reason, I was drawn to this man.
I found a dollar in my wallet, walked back to him, and put it in his plastic cup.
He said thank you, and I almost turned and walked away again, but the physician in me stopped.
"Are you getting healthcare? You have Grave's Disease, right?"
I was surprised by his eloquence. He told me he went to the county hospital, that he was taking the medication methimazole. I asked him how much it cost. He said he was covered under Medicaid, but he was living on the street and he needed money for food and shelter. He asked me if I was a doctor, how long I had been one, and that it was amazing. He kept repeating that it was amazing.
The poverty in this city is heartbreaking. I wonder if the stigma of this man's physical appearance from a disease he can't control is the source of his poverty. Call me a bleeding heart but with everything that's going on with the budget in Congress, how can we cut healthcare funding for people like him?
As I have been on research for the past eight months, at times I feel like a small part of my identity has wilted. The part of me that is a physician first and foremost. But tonight, this man reminded me why I am here and what I'm trying to do. He's right, being a physician is something amazing.
"Thyroid disease. Please help."
He was holding a plastic cup out for money. He had severe exophthalmos--the characteristic stigmata of Grave's Disease, which is an autoimmune disease that leads to overactivity of the thyroid gland. It can be life threatening if not controlled due to a situation called "thyroid storm." This is exactly what you'd think it is: such an overabundance of thyroid hormone that it revs up the entire body.
To anyone outside of medicine, this man's exophthalmos coupled with his poverty would probably be a source of fear or mockery. I initially started walking away, remembering my personal policy to not give money to homeless people, and to give of my time and talent when I am done with my training.
But for some reason, I was drawn to this man.
I found a dollar in my wallet, walked back to him, and put it in his plastic cup.
He said thank you, and I almost turned and walked away again, but the physician in me stopped.
"Are you getting healthcare? You have Grave's Disease, right?"
I was surprised by his eloquence. He told me he went to the county hospital, that he was taking the medication methimazole. I asked him how much it cost. He said he was covered under Medicaid, but he was living on the street and he needed money for food and shelter. He asked me if I was a doctor, how long I had been one, and that it was amazing. He kept repeating that it was amazing.
The poverty in this city is heartbreaking. I wonder if the stigma of this man's physical appearance from a disease he can't control is the source of his poverty. Call me a bleeding heart but with everything that's going on with the budget in Congress, how can we cut healthcare funding for people like him?
As I have been on research for the past eight months, at times I feel like a small part of my identity has wilted. The part of me that is a physician first and foremost. But tonight, this man reminded me why I am here and what I'm trying to do. He's right, being a physician is something amazing.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Palliative Care is Over, But What Next?
I recently met someone great. I was on palliative care as usual, just minding my own business, working, socializing. Doing the usual things that I do--the comfort measures. I went to a house party thrown by a friend about a month ago, and I met him. We'll call him Grad Stud. We talked for nearly three hours. We emailed back and forth for about a month, and then we went out. Three times in one week. They were the best dates I've been on in over a year. I got nervous. Nothing had been this good for so long. I worried that I would screw something up. And then I did.
Then, he told me he ran into his ex, and realized he wasn't over her.
I knew there had been a recent breakup, but based on how things were going, I was surprised. I didn't know what to say, so I said the first thing that came to my mind.
"I'm not a rebound kind of girl."
Well, I'm not.
The date ended quickly after my statement.
I have to say, I've been a bit distraught after this. I gotten a lot of advice from many people. There have basically been two camps. Camp #1: I screwed this up royally by not being empathetic and helping him through this as a cool girl would. Camp #2: I made the right choice by not playing second fiddle to the ex.
My head is swimming with the amount of conflicting advice I've received from a myriad of people--both men and women--and I have no idea what to do.
This experience has made me realize that I don't want to spend the rest of my life on palliative care, and that there's a great guy out there that I may have screwed things up with. A lot of the advice I've gotten is all about little games, but I don't want to go that route. Some folks are masters, but I'm perhaps a bit too simple for it. It always seems to blow up in my face.
No resolution yet.
Then, he told me he ran into his ex, and realized he wasn't over her.
I knew there had been a recent breakup, but based on how things were going, I was surprised. I didn't know what to say, so I said the first thing that came to my mind.
"I'm not a rebound kind of girl."
Well, I'm not.
The date ended quickly after my statement.
I have to say, I've been a bit distraught after this. I gotten a lot of advice from many people. There have basically been two camps. Camp #1: I screwed this up royally by not being empathetic and helping him through this as a cool girl would. Camp #2: I made the right choice by not playing second fiddle to the ex.
My head is swimming with the amount of conflicting advice I've received from a myriad of people--both men and women--and I have no idea what to do.
This experience has made me realize that I don't want to spend the rest of my life on palliative care, and that there's a great guy out there that I may have screwed things up with. A lot of the advice I've gotten is all about little games, but I don't want to go that route. Some folks are masters, but I'm perhaps a bit too simple for it. It always seems to blow up in my face.
No resolution yet.
Spiffy New Design for Springtime
For my regulars, you may have noticed a little spring cleaning here on sex.and.the.scalpel!
As many of you know, I love spring and summer. There is nothing better than casting off the down coat with furry hood, and donning a lighter coat and a lighter attitude. To go with the warming weather and wardrobe change, I figured it was time to revamp the site.
I'd like to thank my creative and talented web ninja, Marion, for designing the site and making it more user friendly. Marion is incredible and if you'd like to check out more of her great work or hire her (yes, this is a shameless plug for Marion's talents!), follow these links to her blog and Marion Hires a Boss site.
There's more revamping to come--including a fabulous new banner--so stay tuned!
As many of you know, I love spring and summer. There is nothing better than casting off the down coat with furry hood, and donning a lighter coat and a lighter attitude. To go with the warming weather and wardrobe change, I figured it was time to revamp the site.
I'd like to thank my creative and talented web ninja, Marion, for designing the site and making it more user friendly. Marion is incredible and if you'd like to check out more of her great work or hire her (yes, this is a shameless plug for Marion's talents!), follow these links to her blog and Marion Hires a Boss site.
There's more revamping to come--including a fabulous new banner--so stay tuned!
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Wisdom (?) From the Lion's Den
I've spent the last couple weeks processing a lot of things that have been going on in my life.
First, there is the work aspect. I recently changed the entire focus of my research projects--for the better. I think there is an entire separate post in this, so I'm going to save it for another day. The gist of it lies in those words of wisdom from Einstein. Something about insanity being doing the same thing over and over again hoping for different results. There were no results. It was time to move on, and I'm much happier for it.
Second, there is the life aspect. As you all know, my love life has been on palliative care recently, and (I know you don't necessarily want to hear this) it has been surprisingly wonderful. I've spent some quality time with myself, friends, and various new activities, and have realized that I actually love being single and independent when I take the pressure off myself to "find a man."
That being said, I did accept a date with The GamePlayer as I'll call him (thanks to my highly creative knitting group). We met up at a hipster bar in a hipster part of town and after a few hipster cocktails, I started picking his brain about the dating trials of being a single female surgeon.
I was a bit disappointed. All The GamePlayer could come up with was: "Well, it's a good filter."
Okay, thanks Master of the Obvious.
Or, is it so obvious?
I'm not convinced anymore that the surgeon thing is just a filter for men that are not worthy, because it seems that every man just passes through the filter and no one gets caught. What if it's not a filter effect? What if it's just that there are no men who have the balls to date high-achieving women? Scary thought, but it's one that's becoming more pervasive.
Recently, someone sent me an article from The Wall Street Journal called "Where Have all the Good Men Gone?" It's a snapshot from the introduction of an opus about this topic by Kay S. Hymowitz called Manning Up: How the Rise of Women Has Turned Men into Boys. I'm in the process of reading the book, but as far as I am into it, the premise is that women are kicking men's butts in just about every arena--education, income, success, etc. So, maybe there aren't any men left who are at the same level we are. Again, scary thought.
Hymowitz also talks about how men are living in a state of "preadulthood." Sort of a continuation of the college frat boy existence. I'm not going to disagree with that, especially after seeing the apartments belonging to some of my previous dates. However, is it possible that maybe women are also, just a little bit, living in a state of preadulthood, too? We value our freedom and independence, drinks and mani/pedis with the girls--sure it looks a little prettier than the guys' version--but I think we've got a little in us as well.
So, what next? How do we date in a preadult world? Do we need men at all? Are the traditional ideas of dating, love, and marriage altered?
No easy answers, minimal wisdom, but loads more questions.
First, there is the work aspect. I recently changed the entire focus of my research projects--for the better. I think there is an entire separate post in this, so I'm going to save it for another day. The gist of it lies in those words of wisdom from Einstein. Something about insanity being doing the same thing over and over again hoping for different results. There were no results. It was time to move on, and I'm much happier for it.
Second, there is the life aspect. As you all know, my love life has been on palliative care recently, and (I know you don't necessarily want to hear this) it has been surprisingly wonderful. I've spent some quality time with myself, friends, and various new activities, and have realized that I actually love being single and independent when I take the pressure off myself to "find a man."
That being said, I did accept a date with The GamePlayer as I'll call him (thanks to my highly creative knitting group). We met up at a hipster bar in a hipster part of town and after a few hipster cocktails, I started picking his brain about the dating trials of being a single female surgeon.
I was a bit disappointed. All The GamePlayer could come up with was: "Well, it's a good filter."
Okay, thanks Master of the Obvious.
Or, is it so obvious?
I'm not convinced anymore that the surgeon thing is just a filter for men that are not worthy, because it seems that every man just passes through the filter and no one gets caught. What if it's not a filter effect? What if it's just that there are no men who have the balls to date high-achieving women? Scary thought, but it's one that's becoming more pervasive.
Recently, someone sent me an article from The Wall Street Journal called "Where Have all the Good Men Gone?" It's a snapshot from the introduction of an opus about this topic by Kay S. Hymowitz called Manning Up: How the Rise of Women Has Turned Men into Boys. I'm in the process of reading the book, but as far as I am into it, the premise is that women are kicking men's butts in just about every arena--education, income, success, etc. So, maybe there aren't any men left who are at the same level we are. Again, scary thought.
Hymowitz also talks about how men are living in a state of "preadulthood." Sort of a continuation of the college frat boy existence. I'm not going to disagree with that, especially after seeing the apartments belonging to some of my previous dates. However, is it possible that maybe women are also, just a little bit, living in a state of preadulthood, too? We value our freedom and independence, drinks and mani/pedis with the girls--sure it looks a little prettier than the guys' version--but I think we've got a little in us as well.
So, what next? How do we date in a preadult world? Do we need men at all? Are the traditional ideas of dating, love, and marriage altered?
No easy answers, minimal wisdom, but loads more questions.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Happy International Women's Day!
Today is the 100th anniversary of International Women's Day. This commemoration was first started in 1911 in various countries in Europe in order to serve as a rally to end discrimination against women. You can read more about the history of the women's movement and the start of International Women's Day at the official website.
I've been reading a lot of posts throughout the blogosphere about this day, and I want to draw your attention to a couple notable ones.
First, if you haven't read the book Half the Sky by the husband and wife journalist duo Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn, please kindly get on it. Add it to your Kindle, Nook, bedside table queue, whatever. Heartbreaking, yet inspiring, the book tells the stories of women facing challenges head-on around the world. Kristoff and WuDunn discuss poverty, health care, female genital mutilation, and child prostitution, in addition to other atrocities that are being dealt with under the leadership of many fearless women and even a few fearless men. Check out the link to the Half the Sky movement website here, and to Nicholas Kristof's New York Times post for International Women's Day here.
Inspired? Think about helping a woman out of poverty by sponsoring a small business through microfinance by giving to Kiva.
Half the Sky is required reading on the rather tangible plight of women's inequality around the world. However, what about the more intangible inequalities faced by women here in the United States?
Ariana Huffington's post on International Women's Day spoke to me greatly. Here's a link. Though at first glance it may seem like we've fought for and won the same rights as men over the past one hundred years, the fact remains that we are still trying to figure out what our hard-earned women's liberation actually means. Huffington describesthe clash of being a woman with the masculine traits that appear to be required to succeed in our professions. Sound familiar to anyone? It sure does to me.
I know I've mentioned this before, but after you read these blog posts, give to Kiva, and read Half the Sky, consider...no...do find a mentor and then become a mentor to a woman yourself. It's a tough world out there, and it helps to have a guide, or to be a guide.
I dedicate this post to an incredible woman who has mentored me since I moved to the Eastern Time Zone (heck, even before I moved), and who shows me every day how to traverse a difficult male-dominated landscape with grace, while still being true to herself. Thank you.
Happy International Women's Day!
I've been reading a lot of posts throughout the blogosphere about this day, and I want to draw your attention to a couple notable ones.
First, if you haven't read the book Half the Sky by the husband and wife journalist duo Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn, please kindly get on it. Add it to your Kindle, Nook, bedside table queue, whatever. Heartbreaking, yet inspiring, the book tells the stories of women facing challenges head-on around the world. Kristoff and WuDunn discuss poverty, health care, female genital mutilation, and child prostitution, in addition to other atrocities that are being dealt with under the leadership of many fearless women and even a few fearless men. Check out the link to the Half the Sky movement website here, and to Nicholas Kristof's New York Times post for International Women's Day here.
Inspired? Think about helping a woman out of poverty by sponsoring a small business through microfinance by giving to Kiva.
Half the Sky is required reading on the rather tangible plight of women's inequality around the world. However, what about the more intangible inequalities faced by women here in the United States?
Ariana Huffington's post on International Women's Day spoke to me greatly. Here's a link. Though at first glance it may seem like we've fought for and won the same rights as men over the past one hundred years, the fact remains that we are still trying to figure out what our hard-earned women's liberation actually means. Huffington describes
I know I've mentioned this before, but after you read these blog posts, give to Kiva, and read Half the Sky, consider...no...do find a mentor and then become a mentor to a woman yourself. It's a tough world out there, and it helps to have a guide, or to be a guide.
I dedicate this post to an incredible woman who has mentored me since I moved to the Eastern Time Zone (heck, even before I moved), and who shows me every day how to traverse a difficult male-dominated landscape with grace, while still being true to herself. Thank you.
Happy International Women's Day!
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Into the Lion's Den...
Oh ladies!
SFS has a big night planned. Tonight, I go into the lion's den...
You may remember a few months back after that awful date with Three Ups/Three Downs guy, I learned about pick-up artists, the Seduction Community, and The Game. I eagerly devoured The Game and worried (along with members of the Brain Trust) that it made me a cynic. Around the time that I read The Game, I emailed the author about this blog and asked for advice on how to find and date guys who aren't intimidated by successful women.
Well, it's a few months later, I'd forgotten all about that little message in a bottle I threw out to the cyber-ocean.
Until now.
I got a message back, and it involves meeting the author and some drinks.
Post your questions ladies--I'll bring them to the Wizard.
Now...if only I could figure out what to wear when meeting a pick-up artist/amazing writer...
SFS has a big night planned. Tonight, I go into the lion's den...
You may remember a few months back after that awful date with Three Ups/Three Downs guy, I learned about pick-up artists, the Seduction Community, and The Game. I eagerly devoured The Game and worried (along with members of the Brain Trust) that it made me a cynic. Around the time that I read The Game, I emailed the author about this blog and asked for advice on how to find and date guys who aren't intimidated by successful women.
Well, it's a few months later, I'd forgotten all about that little message in a bottle I threw out to the cyber-ocean.
Until now.
I got a message back, and it involves meeting the author and some drinks.
Post your questions ladies--I'll bring them to the Wizard.
Now...if only I could figure out what to wear when meeting a pick-up artist/amazing writer...
Saturday, February 12, 2011
A Challenge for My Readers: Palliative Care
A week or so ago, I was having morning coffee with the Brain Trust at our usual meeting place. We hadn't caught up in a bit and as I attempted to bring them up to speed on the latest happenings in my dating life, I realized that there weren't any happenings to report. So it's been a bit of a dry spell. But, this is quite different from active surveillance in which there is still a willingness to engage.
My dating life is currently on the palliative care service. Comfort measures only.
Perhaps the best way to describe the new status is this. It's Saturday night. After a brilliant day of skiing, it is 10pm, I am in bed, in my pajamas, no make-up, eating Valentine's chocolates from my sister, and catching up on chick flicks and Gary Schteyngart. Oh yes, and blogging. There have been a couple Saturday nights like this recently. Okay, okay. Maybe more than a few.
I'd like to think of it as hibernating during the winter; however, I just haven't been in the mood to put myself out there recently. I went to a singles mixer/book reading on Thursday, but frankly, I really went more for the book reading and pinot noir than for meeting new guys. Lately, the mixers/bars/clubs/etc have felt like the same thing over and over. A job interview or parade of peacocks.
I'd rather meet someone in a more natural environment than in a contrived setting. And I'd much rather spend precious free time with friends or on my own doing something I actually enjoy, instead of chat up another stranger. Plus, all other aspects of life are fun and interesting currently (work, friends, family, skiing), so why complicate that?
So ladies (and gentlemen), I offer this challenge to you. I need your help to revive my lifeless, listless dating life. Comment or message me with your creative ideas. I'll try each one out and write a post about it.
Ready...go.
(Thanks to Thor of the Brain Trust for coining the new terminology.)
My dating life is currently on the palliative care service. Comfort measures only.
Perhaps the best way to describe the new status is this. It's Saturday night. After a brilliant day of skiing, it is 10pm, I am in bed, in my pajamas, no make-up, eating Valentine's chocolates from my sister, and catching up on chick flicks and Gary Schteyngart. Oh yes, and blogging. There have been a couple Saturday nights like this recently. Okay, okay. Maybe more than a few.
I'd like to think of it as hibernating during the winter; however, I just haven't been in the mood to put myself out there recently. I went to a singles mixer/book reading on Thursday, but frankly, I really went more for the book reading and pinot noir than for meeting new guys. Lately, the mixers/bars/clubs/etc have felt like the same thing over and over. A job interview or parade of peacocks.
I'd rather meet someone in a more natural environment than in a contrived setting. And I'd much rather spend precious free time with friends or on my own doing something I actually enjoy, instead of chat up another stranger. Plus, all other aspects of life are fun and interesting currently (work, friends, family, skiing), so why complicate that?
So ladies (and gentlemen), I offer this challenge to you. I need your help to revive my lifeless, listless dating life. Comment or message me with your creative ideas. I'll try each one out and write a post about it.
Ready...go.
(Thanks to Thor of the Brain Trust for coining the new terminology.)
Saturday, February 5, 2011
The Cruelest Month
In his epic poem, The Wasteland, T.S. Eliot wrote, "April is the cruelest month." I have a bone to pick with Mr. Eliot. In actuality, I think February is the cruelest month. For some reason, every February, I get the worst case of cabin fever. I get sick of my winter wardrobe, I want to go out but it's too damn cold, I just literally get sick with headcolds. Like I am now. Ugh! The winter feels interminable, and it seems that spring is never going to arrive.
Additionally, there is that holiday I have a love/hate relationship with--Valentine's Day. One the one hand, I love those chalky conversation hearts and other assorted candies, but despise the sordidness of pink. I love the concept of celebrating love of all types, but despise the amount of cheesiness that goes with the expression of it. It's truly schizophrenic.
Maybe the reason that I'm especially feeling the cruelty of February is a recent spate of great dates (yay!), that led to nothing (boo!).
I recently mentioned Alumni Guy--the financial gentlemen I met at an alumni holiday mixer. Over the course of six weeks, we went on three excellent dates and did a lot of emailing and texting. The conversation flowed, we had similar taste in nearly everything including sensibilities about life. Seemed promising. But I always thought it was weird that between dates, I would go a week without hearing from him. Not to mention, we never seemed to be able to go out on a weekend. I understand we're both busy professionals--and I would love your thoughts on this--but if he was really interested, he would have made some time, right?
I asked him to join me, the Brain Trust, and assorted significant others to dinner one Friday night. It took him two days to respond "no" to the invite, but there was no rebuttal (i.e. let's go out next weekend). After that I gave up. I guess he just wasn't that into me.
After a long drought, and many very bad dates over the past few months, it was a bummer that things didn't progress with someone that I actually liked.
So, back to battling cabin fever. Luckily, the saving grace of the cruelest month is that it's only 28 days long...er...short. And then it will be spring--with its warmth and possibilities.
Additionally, there is that holiday I have a love/hate relationship with--Valentine's Day. One the one hand, I love those chalky conversation hearts and other assorted candies, but despise the sordidness of pink. I love the concept of celebrating love of all types, but despise the amount of cheesiness that goes with the expression of it. It's truly schizophrenic.
Maybe the reason that I'm especially feeling the cruelty of February is a recent spate of great dates (yay!), that led to nothing (boo!).
I recently mentioned Alumni Guy--the financial gentlemen I met at an alumni holiday mixer. Over the course of six weeks, we went on three excellent dates and did a lot of emailing and texting. The conversation flowed, we had similar taste in nearly everything including sensibilities about life. Seemed promising. But I always thought it was weird that between dates, I would go a week without hearing from him. Not to mention, we never seemed to be able to go out on a weekend. I understand we're both busy professionals--and I would love your thoughts on this--but if he was really interested, he would have made some time, right?
I asked him to join me, the Brain Trust, and assorted significant others to dinner one Friday night. It took him two days to respond "no" to the invite, but there was no rebuttal (i.e. let's go out next weekend). After that I gave up. I guess he just wasn't that into me.
After a long drought, and many very bad dates over the past few months, it was a bummer that things didn't progress with someone that I actually liked.
So, back to battling cabin fever. Luckily, the saving grace of the cruelest month is that it's only 28 days long...er...short. And then it will be spring--with its warmth and possibilities.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
State of the Disunion
It's official. I ended things with Make-Up/Break-Up almost exactly one year ago. I have been single for a year--the longest stretch of singledom I've had in nearly ten years.
So what is the State of the Disunion currently?
My fellow SFS's. I stand here today as a Single Female Surgeon who is proud of her personal triumphs and failures over the past one year.
I am proud of the fact that I chose my personal happiness over someone who wanted to stifle it, that I chose to punish infidelity instead of accept it. That I made a career choice that has led to incredible professional and personal experiences and flourishing lifetime friendships and colleagues. I am pleased that the career choice led me to a Time Zone and a city that I love--to the point that I wonder what the hell took me so long to get here, and why in the past I ever doubted my choice to come.
I am proud that last weekend, I found out that Make-Up/Break-Up has a girlfriend, and I finally cut him out of my life completely. That five dollars per month of AT&T call and text blocking is the best money I have spent in a long time. No more ambushes--after all, what is he doing calling/texting when he has a girlfriend anyways?
As part of the personal failures...I am not proud that it took me a year to finally do this.
My fellow SFS's, there is still much work that lies ahead. I want to enjoy solitude without feeling lonely. I want to continue to expand my adventurous side without breaking the budget. I want to break down the trade barriers around my heart and get over my fear of getting hurt.
But overall, the State of the Disunion is this: I am proud to be managing my life and happiness as an independent woman, while still believing that he's out there somewhere.
So what is the State of the Disunion currently?
My fellow SFS's. I stand here today as a Single Female Surgeon who is proud of her personal triumphs and failures over the past one year.
I am proud of the fact that I chose my personal happiness over someone who wanted to stifle it, that I chose to punish infidelity instead of accept it. That I made a career choice that has led to incredible professional and personal experiences and flourishing lifetime friendships and colleagues. I am pleased that the career choice led me to a Time Zone and a city that I love--to the point that I wonder what the hell took me so long to get here, and why in the past I ever doubted my choice to come.
I am proud that last weekend, I found out that Make-Up/Break-Up has a girlfriend, and I finally cut him out of my life completely. That five dollars per month of AT&T call and text blocking is the best money I have spent in a long time. No more ambushes--after all, what is he doing calling/texting when he has a girlfriend anyways?
As part of the personal failures...I am not proud that it took me a year to finally do this.
My fellow SFS's, there is still much work that lies ahead. I want to enjoy solitude without feeling lonely. I want to continue to expand my adventurous side without breaking the budget. I want to break down the trade barriers around my heart and get over my fear of getting hurt.
But overall, the State of the Disunion is this: I am proud to be managing my life and happiness as an independent woman, while still believing that he's out there somewhere.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
The Flood
As a gal who has grown up in houses in the Central Time Zone, this apartment living thing is a bit new. My place is perched high up in a high rise building. A bit impersonal at times, but nothing beats the view.
About a month ago, there was a flood in my apartment. My kitchen to be exact. Sewage water in the cabinets, pots and pans, dishwasher, dishes, etc. It was a bit traumatic to come home and find some of the (actually very, very nice and helpful) building maintenance men working to stem a tide of dirty dishwater.
After a long night of loud roto-rootering, the problem was fixed, and the flood was resolved. What was not resolved, however, was the mess of my kitchenwares.
I do like to cook. Nothing too fancy--I'm definitely a "follow-the-recipe-with-few-modifications-mainly-pertaining-to-what-I-have-in-my-cabinets/refrigerator-at-the-time" kind of cook. Simple things that are tasty and filling and don't require a lot of time, but will make enough quantity for at least a week of late suppers after a long day at work. If the recipe requires a slow cooker that will work while I sleep, even better.
In keeping with my rather weak cooking skills, I have an odd mishmash of kitchenwares. Most of the items were donated by my mother (an amazing cook) when I started med school. I have pots and pans that I've owned for ten years, but in actuality have been in the family name for closer to thirty.
While most of these items have probably been at retirement age for at least the last five years, I haven't replaced them, and instead, carried them with me across the country to fellowship.
What was I waiting for?
Well, it took a flood for me to realize it: I'm sad to say that I think I've been waiting to get married. I think I hoped that I'd restock the kitchen with things picked out by me and this fictional fiance on our registry. That my real kitchen would happen when I started my "real life."
But wait. This IS my real life. I may be single, but it's still a life. I have parties, I have friends and co-fellows over for dinner, I'll even occasionally cook something more complex than my staple comfort (easy) foods. So why am I waiting?
I decided to stop waiting and start living. I have been single for nearly a year--the longest time I have been single in nearly a decade. If I have learned anything this year, it's how to be independent. I mean, I've always been pretty independent ideologically, professionally, and financially. However, this year, I have learned how to be comfortable as "just one."
So, I did a little shopping around. I picked out some new pots and pans, dishes, and cookware. Then, I happily christened them with some slightly complex cooking...just for me.
About a month ago, there was a flood in my apartment. My kitchen to be exact. Sewage water in the cabinets, pots and pans, dishwasher, dishes, etc. It was a bit traumatic to come home and find some of the (actually very, very nice and helpful) building maintenance men working to stem a tide of dirty dishwater.
After a long night of loud roto-rootering, the problem was fixed, and the flood was resolved. What was not resolved, however, was the mess of my kitchenwares.
I do like to cook. Nothing too fancy--I'm definitely a "follow-the-recipe-with-few-modifications-mainly-pertaining-to-what-I-have-in-my-cabinets/refrigerator-at-the-time" kind of cook. Simple things that are tasty and filling and don't require a lot of time, but will make enough quantity for at least a week of late suppers after a long day at work. If the recipe requires a slow cooker that will work while I sleep, even better.
In keeping with my rather weak cooking skills, I have an odd mishmash of kitchenwares. Most of the items were donated by my mother (an amazing cook) when I started med school. I have pots and pans that I've owned for ten years, but in actuality have been in the family name for closer to thirty.
While most of these items have probably been at retirement age for at least the last five years, I haven't replaced them, and instead, carried them with me across the country to fellowship.
What was I waiting for?
Well, it took a flood for me to realize it: I'm sad to say that I think I've been waiting to get married. I think I hoped that I'd restock the kitchen with things picked out by me and this fictional fiance on our registry. That my real kitchen would happen when I started my "real life."
But wait. This IS my real life. I may be single, but it's still a life. I have parties, I have friends and co-fellows over for dinner, I'll even occasionally cook something more complex than my staple comfort (easy) foods. So why am I waiting?
I decided to stop waiting and start living. I have been single for nearly a year--the longest time I have been single in nearly a decade. If I have learned anything this year, it's how to be independent. I mean, I've always been pretty independent ideologically, professionally, and financially. However, this year, I have learned how to be comfortable as "just one."
So, I did a little shopping around. I picked out some new pots and pans, dishes, and cookware. Then, I happily christened them with some slightly complex cooking...just for me.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Happy New Year!
Happy New Year, my dear Single Female Surgeons!
Well, I can't believe that this is already the one year anniversary of sex and the scalpel. It's been a wild ride, a rollercoaster of ups and downs, and I can't thank you enough for your insight and readership throughout this year.
I started this blog because of a major shift in my thought process about balance in my career and life. I guess I always assumed that I was good at doing the balancing act--doing well at work, working out, friends, family, fun--in no particular order. After falling in love with Make-Up/Break-Up, and the ensuing break-up that resulted due to my career choices, I realized that maybe all wasn't perfect in my perfect little world. That maybe I really didn't have it all.
In some ways, it was painfully apparent to me last night. As I got dolled up for a night on the town with friends--most of whom are in a relationship--I realized that in fact, I really dislike New Year's Eve. It's the one day of the year that I actually feel bad about being single, and worry that maybe all of the good things currently in my life aren't enough. Sure, I could find someone random to kiss at midnight, but I've reached that point in life where I'm greedy. The random hookup simply will not suffice. I want more, and deserve more. As I headed home last night, the entire subway was a veritable Noah's Ark--two by two. Until I find that person crazy enough to travel through life with me, who enhances instead of detracts from the whole career/life balancing act thing, I'm okay with going it alone.
Though I'm one year older, I can't say that I'm all the wiser, but someday, through this blog and the wonderful conversations with SFS's and those outside of medicine, I hope to be able to gain some insight into this maze that seems to only get more complex as each day goes by.
In the meanwhile, I'm going to sit down with some Gatorade for my hangover, think a bit, write some resolutions, and then get ready for my date tonight.
Happy New Year, dear SFS's! May all your dreams come true in 2011!
Well, I can't believe that this is already the one year anniversary of sex and the scalpel. It's been a wild ride, a rollercoaster of ups and downs, and I can't thank you enough for your insight and readership throughout this year.
I started this blog because of a major shift in my thought process about balance in my career and life. I guess I always assumed that I was good at doing the balancing act--doing well at work, working out, friends, family, fun--in no particular order. After falling in love with Make-Up/Break-Up, and the ensuing break-up that resulted due to my career choices, I realized that maybe all wasn't perfect in my perfect little world. That maybe I really didn't have it all.
In some ways, it was painfully apparent to me last night. As I got dolled up for a night on the town with friends--most of whom are in a relationship--I realized that in fact, I really dislike New Year's Eve. It's the one day of the year that I actually feel bad about being single, and worry that maybe all of the good things currently in my life aren't enough. Sure, I could find someone random to kiss at midnight, but I've reached that point in life where I'm greedy. The random hookup simply will not suffice. I want more, and deserve more. As I headed home last night, the entire subway was a veritable Noah's Ark--two by two. Until I find that person crazy enough to travel through life with me, who enhances instead of detracts from the whole career/life balancing act thing, I'm okay with going it alone.
Though I'm one year older, I can't say that I'm all the wiser, but someday, through this blog and the wonderful conversations with SFS's and those outside of medicine, I hope to be able to gain some insight into this maze that seems to only get more complex as each day goes by.
In the meanwhile, I'm going to sit down with some Gatorade for my hangover, think a bit, write some resolutions, and then get ready for my date tonight.
Happy New Year, dear SFS's! May all your dreams come true in 2011!
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