A New Nugget

I feel my creativity has all but run dry recently. I have had the energy sucked out of me by keeping it up for everyone around me. I think it's part of being a medical student. I can easily put on the face at the hospital. That's not to say that I don't love what I do. I just find that all of my energies go into being the best I can at the hospital. I just feel like when I'm done with the day, I have little energy for anything else. I wish there was a way to have more energy.

I also feel like I need to write more. I need to do more creative writing. I miss it. I've decided I'm going to start writing stories about my new pet. His name is nugget, and he is a monkey. He's actually a stuffed animal, but I think it would be fun to come up with adventures for this new little guy. He is precious and I'm sure quite mischievous. Right now, though, he is a little subdued. He's trying to get used to his new house. He says that the store where my cousin found him was horrid! He had to sit on a shelf with little food and it would get so cold and dark at night! He is very glad to be here, and has found a favorite spot to sit:

He is still working on getting used to Chewy. He finds that Chewy reminds him a bit of a lion. I keep telling him that Chewy won't eat him and probably doesn't care about him at all, but Nugget doesn't quite believe me yet. I'm sure he'll get used to Chewy, but for now, he much prefers sticking as close to me as possible :) Needless to say, I'm sure he'll have plenty of fun adventures in the new year for me to write about and allow me to use my creative writing minor for something other than a conversation piece.

Hope is a Sense of Calm in a Sea of Turmoil

Today I learned probably the greatest lesson in medicine. It had nothing to do with learning about asthma from probably the smartest man in pediatrics at Wake Forest. And nothing about learning about various chemotherapies, their uses, side effects, etc. etc. It had nothing to do with the biochemical, physical, biological mumbo-gumbo that makes us doctors pretend we're smart. I learned today that sometimes, the greatest message a person can bring is one of hope. Hope that, even though it's the darkest hour of treatment, you are not alone. There are others that have gone through these same exact moments before you, even at the same time as you. I learned that simply by saying, "everything is normal", it provides hope. Hope that as scary is it may seem right now, everything is going exactly as expected. That after feeling awful for right now, you'll start to feel better. I am awed by the power a message of hope carries. Humbled that I can provide that message. It's such a wonderful feeling knowing that simply by being present and continuing to be present, even after I've rotated off-service, I can help someone keep fighting through even the worst parts of their treatment. I am humbled and honored to be a doctor-to-be.

Word Salad

Psych's got me thinking: how abnormal do you have to be before you becoming pathologic? How messed up do your thoughts have to be before you are commitable? How eccentric is too eccentric? It's interesting to look at each patient and think about the parts of their personalities that are normal, and how the abnormal parts could be consider normal in other circumstances. For example, the bizarre thoughts and ideations of the psychotic patients could sound very similar to the bizarre reality of someone's dreams. I mean, I know in my dreams I can do just about anything, and some of them are completely off the wall. Yet, when I wake up I know they're dreams and that I'm not going to act on them. Sometimes I think I do hear my name when walking down the street, but it doesn't mean I am psychotic or becoming paranoid. Yet, in another person with a different psyche, that's exactly what happens. They act on dreams and become paranoid of nonexistent voices. They believe the dream world is a reality they have to survive. We are somehow incorporated into their worlds, and to us, it's scary. It shows us that our dream worlds could also become a sort of reality if we let them. It opens our eyes to a world we only ever imagined but never thought could be real. It's like Alice falling into the rabbit's hole. It's her reality but it's not the reality of anyone else. In the end, it turned out to be a dream even though it seemed so real to Alice. What happens when we wake these people up to what we consider to be the true reality? To the patients, does it just seem to be an alternate reality? Do parallel universes exist and we just choose the one universe that everyone else seems to be living in? Yet, are these "sick" patients really just living through one of their other parallel universes? And when we medicate them, and make them "better", are we just ripping them from the universe they are in and bringing them back to ours, the "correct" universe? And when they react angrily, should we think we failed or realize the pain involved in being pulled through space and time into a completely different arrangement of thought and ideas? Do they appreciate the tug? Do they want to be dragged back from their higher point of view? Do we really, truly understand what the world is like for them? And if not, why do we expect them to understand and accept our world as their new one?

Bring Me the Sunset in a Cup

Bring me the sunset in a cup
Let it's warmth caress my cheek
And remind me of our days gone by

Bring me the moon on a silver platter
Let it's dark side reflect in my eyes
And remind me of our hidden secrets

Bring me the stars on a gossamer thread
Let them dance around my neck
And remind me of your gentle touch

Bring me the sunrise in a chalice
Let it's spirit kiss my forehead
And remind me of our unbridled love

Bring me the rainbow in a satchel
Let it's colors envelope my body
And remind me of our passionate flights

Bring me the rain in a simple thimble
Let it settle at my feet
And remind me of our twisted past

Bring me the sunset in a cup
Let's sit beneath it's waning light
And remember ourselves again.

Reappearance from the Great Beyond

I feel like I haven't blogged in a while. In fact, it has been forever. Third year has officially taken over. Yet, I love every minute of it. Every day I'm at the hospital with patients, I feel like I come alive. I eat it up. I can't have enough of the whole experience. I'm hoping this is a good sign that this is where I'm supposed to be, even if most times I don't know where this is. Each day my idea of what I want to do changes. I'm just hoping at some point I figure out what I want to do with at least my first residency :D

I really want to be creative again. I know I can't force it, but I feel like I haven't been writing as much as I usually do. May try to write from a prompt a couple of times a week. Hopefully I can keep this up (starting with twice a week). It'll be nice to try being creative again :) Anyway, keep your eyes peeled for some creativity from this girl!