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.