An Odd Mix

Crisis and Calm
Being a first-year medical student is the ultimate combination of crisis and calm. I consider myself an organized, on-task, motivated person. Most of you wouldn't think any of those things would be a stretch for someone who is admitted to multiple medical schools. Oh, and the terrible burden that now that we're supposed to be taking care of other people, that it is an unspeakable thing to be having personal doubts, problems, making mistakes, being unorganized or generally flailing in any way.

They (administration, upperclassmen, fellow classmates, attendings, interns, mentors) put pressure on us and teach us how to put even more pressure on ourselves. Thank you for your leadership...yes, as a matter of fact, I'd love another helping of confusion, self-loathing and guilt. Because if I don't accept everything given to me with a smile and eagerness, it's not considered "professional."

An open letter to the a-hole second years (warning: unprofessional)
To the next second-year who dares to snicker when someone from my class is printing notes, working on a project, or otherwise appearing to work: F--K YOU. Seriously. I think it is F---ING AWESOME that you didn't have to do SHIT your first-year of medical school, and that all you had to do was attend lectures and drink pina coladas the rest of the time. You loudly stating that "First Year is a Piece of Cake" while smiling with that shit-eating grin on your face doesn't make you wise, it makes you an a-hole. Next year no one will have to remind me to not be an a-hole to first years. You seem to convieniently forget that you had to transition to first-year too, and that things weren't always perfect for you either. What is bad about it is that so many people in your class are NICE and HELPFUL but you being a DUMBASS makes everything 10x worse.

My second beef with you is this--What? You think I'm an IDIOT for reading required textbooks? I don't know what you've been doing since medical school but I had a job before this, the kind of thing where I had to pay my bills. The kind of thing you've never, ever, EVER had to do because you went straight from your pampered ass ivy-league college to this large, private medical school. And, you don't know how to keep your mouth shut (I know, I have that problem too, but not with this situation)---if people want to try to study and learn something here, just because you didn't have to do that "STUDY" thing doesn't mean that you get to be an asshole. Please don't EVER try to offer medical care to anyone that I know or love. 'Cause you are a first-class prick, oh, and you didn't READ ANY BOOKS. In MEDICAL SCHOOL. Jesus.


A litany of issues, organized in list format for your reading pleasure
  1. Maintaining some sort of order and structure for myself is becoming damn near impossible.
  2. Exhibit A? The fact that I was reluctantly showering at midnight tonight. The fact that I am making schedules of my schedules. The fact that every time I check my email there is SOMETHING ELSE for me to contend with. Pulling my hair out is not an option. I would have no hair left.
  3. I am not finding the time to work out like I should, I am not finding the time to pack healthy meals like I should, I got on the scale today. I was kind of snappy with my sweet, mostly-drunk boyfriend on the phone tonight. I need to call my best friend and my grandparents and both of those things are on a list on a 3x5 card with all of the other things I need to do, like renew my car insurance, deal with my 401K, make an ob/gyn appointment. When did my life get reduced to a to-do list in a personal planner that is now 10 inches thick??!?
  4. All of those things? Unacceptable, unacceptable, unacceptable.
  5. I'm behind in reading, behind in outlining, and probably behind on things I haven't even heard about yet. I'm not behind in pretending to be okay, smiling pretty for my classmates, saying everything's great on long-distance calls from friends and family.

I am bitter, exhausted, self-critical and yet, FORGING on. I don't think I need people to understand or empathize. I oscillate from my position of forced optimism to a position of emergency-level triage of problems.

What I need is a personal assistant, a maid, a personal shopper, a personal trainer and someone to be my stand-in mother and pack my lunches. That would be the day.

But realistically? Until then (which is NEVER), what I am doing is going to be good enough, dammit. And perhaps my personal standards will have to be revised. There will definitely have to be less listening to a-holes, more taking care of myself, more flexibility when the school throws more work at us, and less self-criticism.

All I want is...
More time to MYSELF (that does not include self-care tasks, cleaning, organizing or doing things on the computer that are administrative.)I promise-I'm okay. I'm just venting.

I love all of you long time.
xoxo
Kate
 



Measuring a Year, Welcome back to September
Saturday, September 08, 2007 | posted by Kate | permalink | |

Back to the question--how do you measure a year? What can change in a year?

Exactly a year ago this month, I...

was in my first apartment after my separation
just had joined Match dot com and started dating
had not interviewed at any medical schools yet (but was to be invited shortly)
moved from my old blog to this new blog to start over!

was working at a preschool (already in my second month)
worked out at a fancy gym downtown, Holmes Place
ate a lot of sushi (spicy tuna, my fave) b/c there was a great place across from my old place
saw Navy Pier everyday on my drive/walk home!

was nervous about being accepted to medical school but hopeful
was all done taking the MCAT
just finishing my last few admissions essays
used to walk to the grocery store and lug the groceries home, leaving red marks on my arms!

And Now?
7 weeks into medical school
shiny new white coat & fancy stethoscope
one test down, one to go on Monday (toga party after)
handful of new "best" friends I was dreaming of

One new boyfriend (one year will be in Nov) who spent the night last night
who holds my hand when we sleep
who gave me Sox tickets (for me and a friend) later this afternoon
whose sister is having lunch and visiting with me today

Closer with my family
even talking to my mom
visits home, less stressful
a new appreciation of my hometown and comfort with Chicago

second apartment (first after official divorce) beautiful and big
my own one-bedroom for the first time
bright pink bathroom
couch all to myself in the living room...

love,
K
 




In my own little world of whatever. I'm just sayin'.

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