This weekend was supposed to be my last hurrah before doing my final twelve weeks of internal medicine (ie, general adult medicine, which most doctors refer to simply as “medicine” except this confuses the hell out of people) and pediatrics. It’ll be a rough twelve weeks with no full weekends (we get one day off a week) and 65-80 work hrs a week. So yes, I was looking forward to arriving back in Rainy City Saturday morning, reconnecting with Catalyst, and finishing up some errands.
The weather had other plans, so I’m stuck in the big city on the east coast in an airport, and I don’t know exactly when I’ll get to go home. I’m upset, obviously, and as my place in the stand by list keeps fluctuating randomly, I’ve been angry and disappointed and sad and defeated. Catalyst and Ember have been keeping me company as best as they can from afar, but I can’t wait to be home.
As much as this sucks though, I’m not letting myself wallow in my current misfortune. I will eventually make it home, and yes I’ve lost a weekend, but I had a pretty good week at home in west africa, and the time I spent with my loves before my vacation was really good quality time. These twelve weeks will come and go, and even during them, there will still be good times. Medicine and pediatrics are very far from my calling, but though challenging (and to me not particularly interesting), it is still rewarding to take care of people that way.
And especially with my job, how can I stay in a funk over something in essence so trivial and fleeting when I’m trying to help people through depression in the context of past trauma, devastating medical diagnoses, and destructive addictions?
So yes, I’m sad that I’m still here. I’m frustrated and I’m feeling helpless and trapped and I had to wash my underwear with shampoo last night and dry it with an iron because they won’t release my checked bags to me. But I’ve got warmth and love waiting for me, and that’s the important thing.