A First For Everything

For the very first time I felt, at the end of this week, that I was tired of treating sick children. Don't get me wrong, I love my job. I love being a pediatrician and I love hospital medicine. But not this past week. That love was on hiatus.

Never before have I felt so "drug out", as the father of one of my patients kept saying to describe his previously healthy son who was unable to speak after a viral encephalitis. The kids I took care of this week took my previously in check emotions and took them for a joy ride down Depressing Road. I came home every night thinking about what lay around the next corner and how impossibly lucky I've been thus far in my life. When we wake up each morning we can't possibly know how our lives might irrevocably change that day. The mother of my 5 year old patient couldn't have possibly imagined how their morning bike ride would end...with her son severely brain damaged after being hit by a van. I could tell you more of what I saw this week but that's not really the point. I walked out of the hospital at the end of the week yearning to see a happy healthy child. In fact, I craved it.

I've seen all of these things before and have been able to deal with them in stride, just like every other day on the job. But last week it got to me. Those kids got to me. This week, for every night that I walk in my front door and my husband and two dogs are there waiting for me, I will give thanks for that day.

Let's Face It. I'm Ridiculous.

I just got off the phone with a dear friend of mine and she was updating me on a situation she and her husband have been struggling with for awhile now. The theme underlying this struggle is regret. That awful shoulda-woulda-coulda feeling that we have all been humbled by more than a few times. It's a painful place to be. In short, they are strongly regretting their choice of residency program. They feel that they don't fit in with the people, the program is not family friendly, and they don't have the social support they thought they would. This is all compounded by the fact that they have a young daughter and residency at even the greatest program is still not a conducive environment to spend lots of quality time with the fam. I listen to her frustration and hear her talk about all the places they liked that they could have gone but instead made the misguided decision to choose this particular program and my heart aches because we both know that they have to grit their teeth and survive for the next 2 years. Just surviving is no way to spend your days. I've done it. It ain't pretty.

I'm embarrassed to share with you a regret i've been struggling with. When I tell you this, you will roll your eyes and then I will feel better that you think I'm ridiculous because that validates the fact that I should just let this go. And sometimes I need someone to roll their eyes at me so that I stop taking myself so seriously. Here it is.

On my first day at my new job, I was at morning report and the residents were presenting a case that had been seen in the hospital the week before. It was one of those puzzling cases about an adolescent girl, a soccer injury, and neurologic symptoms. Everyone is calling out potential diagnoses and tests they want ordered and focusing generally on the injury. All along I'm thinking "this sounds like something i've seen before, I know what this is." I want to open my mouth and say the diagnosis because no one has said it yet but we are in a big room with all sorts of attendings and residents and my department chair is sitting right next to me. I keep picturing myself croaking out my diagnosis and then the room going quiet and everyone turning to look at me and thinking "who the heck is that and why is she so stupid?" My heart is racing and my face is red and hot and I want to say it but my mouth won't open and my hands are trembling and then I give up. The residents go on with the case and show the answer and you know what? I was right. All I remember from that day is thinking over and over about what would have happened if I had said the answer. Do you know how much mileage I could've gotten out of that one right answer?? How awesome would that have been to outsmart everyone, even the department chair, on my very first day on the job? Awesome. Alas, I didn't open my mouth for fear of looking stupid and I regret it. I think about this at least 3 times a week. I keep hoping for another chance at morning report to reclaim the glory but those times happen so few and far between. I might never get another chance to look that mysteriously brilliant. Is this a ridiculous story? Yes. Will this ever happen to me again? Sadly, it probably will. (cue eye rolling)

Niche is a four letter word

Here's an honest to goodness conversation that just took place between my husband and I.

Me: I'm feeling inadequate today.

Him: Why?

Me: Because I went to our division meeting today and everyone seems really really smart. Much smarter than I am.

Him: Well, they have more experience than you. I'm sure they think you are smart too.

Me: No, I don't have much to contribute during the meetings. Also, everyone has their niche that they are working on. You know, one person is doing global health, another is palliative care, another is family centered rounds. I don't have a niche yet. And what's worse is that I don't know how to get one! I don't have one singular passion to focus on. What if I can't figure out my niche and I just languish here in this job and I never get promoted?? I need to start being productive and adding to my professional portfolio!!

Him: Ummmm, you've only been there a month.

Me: So?

Him: So, you've only been there a month.

This conversation is what happens when a perfectionist like myself lets a little insecurity take charge of my brain and graffiti it with the word "should". I "should" be more productive. I "should" be uber-accomplished. I "should" be a rock star. I am reminding myself (with you as my witness) that it is ok to get settled into a new job for the first several months. It is ok to be inexperienced and still learning. It is ok to not be perfect. It is ok to take a breath and relax. It is ok to just be. Just be.