Growth

"Be of good cheer. Do not think of today's failures, but of the success that may come tomorrow. You have set yourselves a difficult task, but you will succeed if you persevere; and you will find a joy in overcoming obstacles. Remember, no effort that we make to attain something beautiful is ever lost. -What I am looking for is not out there, it is in me." -Helen Keller

When I started intern year, everything scared me.  I walked in the first day, logged into the EMR, and immediately developed palpitations about writing my first progress note on my first patient.  It was just a simple note, yet it seemed like the biggest task to make sure it provided the patient's story and problems accurately along with the plan for the day.  What if I missed something?  What if I forgot?  What if I didn't catch everything on the physical exam or missed a lab?  What if I put in an order wrong?  Would it get back to the patient?  It was paralyzing.  It's a wonder I survived the first day and every subsequent day with that burden sitting on my shoulders.  It's an even greater miracle the patient's did.

The miraculous thing is not that the burden has lessened in weight, oh no, it has only grown as the months have gone on.  What's fascinating is how I have adapted, how I have strengthened so that I am able to carry the load with less strain on me.  There are days that the weight seems infinitely heavier, and I feel like I'm floundering.  There are days, too, where I feel like although the weight is there, I am able to manage to carry it successfully.  Exhaustion frequently clouds the picture.  So do insecurities and self-doubt.  Some days I do feel like I'm making strides toward being a full-fledged doctor, but many days, I worry I'm stuck.  Then some days, I feel like I did that first day of intern year.  It's dizzying and maddening.

Silence

Standing on the threshold, I was overwhelmed by the musty smell of water damage, like an old library where the books had been exposed to the elements in stone-walled buildings.  The dust hung in the air, pooling and swirling in the light that filtered through the broken windows.  Stepping into the entryway, the wood gave with a creak and a puff of dust created a tsunami around my feet.  I smiled as the thought, "I'm finally home," entered my mind.  I never imagined that I would be able to afford this large Victorian, with the cracked bay window in the front room, wide hardwood floors, and beautifully stained door frames whose luster had faded as age settled over it.  The silence of the house was deafening.  I could here the dust sifting through the air, the sighs of the house as it relaxed into its new resident, and the rustle of the leaves on the maple tree in the front yard.  I was excited and intimidated by the grandeur of my home.  I had no idea where to start on the clean-up project.

Remembrance

Remembrance

Your hands easy

weight, teasing the bees

hived in my hair, your smile at the

slope of my cheek. On the

occasion, you press

above me, glowing, spouting

readiness, mystery rapes

my reason

When you have withdrawn

your self and the magic, when

only the smell of your

love lingers between

my breasts, then, only

then, can I greedily consume

your presence.

This was the first poem I read by Maya Angelou in 7^th grade for my poetry project.  At the time I was naïve enough to have missed the meaning of the poem entirely, and was entranced by the simplicity of the language and the beauty of the imagery.  Once my English teacher enlightened me of the deeper meaning beyond a woman being overwhelmed with love (the emotion not the act) of a man, I began my journey into the world of poetry and writing as a way to work through the events of life that seemed to stop me in my tracks.  Both positive and negative moments were dissected for understanding through writing.  I kept journals; I blogged; I went to as many writing classes as I could over the years.  Through this poem, I became entrenched in writing as both a form of release as well as a way to reach greater clarity of the world I worked and lived in.  Maya Angelou was and remains my ultimate inspiration as a writer.

I had the honor of sitting not six feet from Maya Angelou and hear her speak to my second year medical school class.  To say the experience was overwhelming, awe-inspiring, one to scratch off the bucket list would all be understatement.  It was one of those times when meeting an idol, time seems to move slower and faster at the same time.  It was the spark I needed to begin writing again.  Unfortunately, step 1 and third year thwarted my efforts.  I did carry her words with me, the task of remaining a rainbow in the clouds to provide hope to those who felt all was lost, the wayward ship turned around in the open ocean.  Those words rung more and more true the longer I was in the clinical setting, finding that I felt most impassioned to care for the sickest and the dying.

Time stopped for a split second the day I found out Dr. Angelou had passed away.  She was such a formidable character, a stronghold in my life, she seemed immortal.  How could she join the ranks of so many people I had seen and helped pass on over this year? It was incomprehensible.  And yet time clicks on, and just like my Grammy Lou, her final words to me have become a beacon of light in the darkness intern year can be at times.  And just like my Grammy Lou, I only hope I can do their charges to me honor and justice.  I only hope I can embody the high regard they hold for me, the heady task they set forth.  One a goal of being happy all the rest of my days, the other a challenge to remain the beacon of light in others’ lives, a steadfast reminder to those I care for that I will stand by through the toils and be a guide to higher grounds in whatever capacity that may be.  I only pray I can be the woman that let’s these other phenomenal women live on after death.

Curiouser and Curiouser

Being in medicine is a strange situation.  There are parts of it that anyone off the street would understand.  We talk to people all the time.  Spend a good amount of time on the phone with colleagues discussing interesting cases to get new insight.  Even more time is spent in front of computers doing paperwork, charting each move and decision.  It frankly isn't always that exciting, certainly not like it appears on TV.

But there are parts that if most people heard about would be appalled.  It is strange, medieval at times.  We do things that would get most anyone else put in jail.  From jabbing needles into people to remove fluids (akin to draining the bad humors) to actively putting new fluids into them through lines in their arms.  We slice people people open and remove infection, cancer, irritants.  We convince people that the things we are doing are the best possible options for them to be better, feel better, live more happily and healthily.  Such a strange little set-up we have.  Sometimes I'm in awe that people are so trusting of the things I say and ask them to do.