When One Door Shuts, Keep Knocking

Recently, I didn't get a travel grant I applied for to attend a conference this summer in DC. I thought I had a good chance and sent in a fine application but there was someone out there with a better one. I told my husband how disappointed I was and he said "But you've gotten everything else you've ever applied for." Not true. Totally not true. There were at least two jobs that I really wanted in Chicago after I left my fellowship that I didn't get hired for. While I was job hunting this last time around, I learned I didn't get a job that I thought I was perfect for. A good friend of mine has since been hired for that very position. When I first joined the AAP, I ran for a position on the executive committee and didn't get the votes. In 6th grade, I ran for Treasurer. I still remember the posters I made with fake money all over them. I didn't get elected. A 7th grader was chosen over me. As a freshman in high school, I tried out for the cheer squad. Despite spending hours in my backyard practicing a dance to "Rhythm Nation" by Janet Jackson, I didn't make it past the first cut. In medical school, I waited for years for a certain person to love me as much as I wanted him to. Didn't happen.

Reflecting on all of these past 'rejections', I came to realize that the reason I keep 'applying' for things is that every denial I've experienced has led to something better. I love my job that I have here in Madison. It's exactly what I wanted and will open more doors than I can count. I have been given the opportunity to write this blog for the AAP and held plenty of other positions within the Academy since losing that election. Those 'failures' in junior high and high school? They've made me essentially unafraid of sticking my neck out publicly. And the many failed relationships in my past? I thank my lucky stars for my husband every day (some days more than others!).

So this most recent failure, if you can even call it that, is not really the end of something for me. In fact, it was the nicest rejection that I've ever received, complete with suggestions of other conferences/courses that would suit my goals and the name of a contact person who could help me reach them. You see, multiple doors are open and it is up to me to keep moving forward. But I won't stop knocking on those doors that appear shut because you just never know.

The Devil Wears Prada. And Scrubs.

We've all heard about the epidemic of bullying in schools. But did you know that there is workplace bullying too? This is a real phenomenon of which I was unaware until it happened to me. True story. Sort of. I may be overreacting. At least according to my husband.

I was on service and was caring for a patient with a persistent pain issue. She had undergone multiple studies looking for the source of the pain but nothing was found. I consulted a surgeon to get some guidance as to where to look next. He made a recommendation that did not make logical sense to me, so I planned to say "Thank you for your time" and move on. Afterall, the patient was on my service. On a side note, I don't usually ignore my consultants' recommendations. In fact, I often err on the side of being overly gracious and thankful for their help. BUT, I feel very strongly that I am responsible for the well being of my patients and if I don't think that a recommendation makes sense I won't jump to follow it. Anyway, the next day the surgeon called me to ask why I hadn't done what they said to do and you know what? I suddenly saw myself as 3 feet tall and the surgeon as 6 feet tall. I got sweaty and clammy and stammered over my words as I tried to politely explain that I didn't understand their logic and didn't feel like I wanted to follow their plan. I did my best to dance around the fact that I was really saying "I don't agree with you and I plan to do what I want to do instead." The surgeon strenuously repeated his plan and I timidly danced around the phrase "I don't want to do that because I think you're wrong." He went so far as to threaten to move the patient to his service so that he could do what he wanted and I wouldn't be involved at all. Ugh. I felt completely undermined and self-conscious and wasn't at all sure I was ready, after being at this job for 8 months, to go head to head with an experienced surgeon. In short, I felt bullied. In a big way. But I went ahead and implemented his plan even though I felt sick about it. I knew it wasn't going to hurt my patient, but I firmly believed that it wouldn't help. The next day a new surgeon came on service and completely changed the plan that I had put into place after being bullied into it. And she got better. "I knew it! I told you!" I screamed. On the inside.

If you google bullying in the workplace you get a ton of hits. Did you know there is a Workplace Bullying Institute? There's also a blog called Bully Free at Work with links to a book and an e-course. Wow. Now you know.

The Flight of My Ideas

First my apologies for being silent for so long. I really wanted to rescue that one blog in February from a life of solitude but alas, it wasn't to be. The last two weeks of February were a bit of a blur. I was on service and the respiratory viral season has finally hit the hospital. I had to get my hair colored twice in one week because my stylist missed a section of my head. How does that happen?! Then I came down with a mean case of the dreaded "influenza-like illness". Let me tell you, I've never felt muscle aches and chills like that before. I empathize with so many of my patients now. Somewhere during that illness I have a vague recollection of spending the night at an indoor waterpark in Gurnee, IL and eating dinner at IHOP. True story. On February 21st, my grandfather passed away in hospice after suffering from a stroke on January 8th, the same day as the shootings in Tucson. As my dad put it, that day the country suffered a tragedy and our family suffered a tragedy as well. Because I'm stubborn and hate paying exorbitant amounts of my hard earned money for poor service, I chose to snub 'the man' by driving instead of flying to Tucson for the funeral. My husband drove with me, bless his heart, for 1800 miles there and back. Two fingers on my left hand are still numb from driving but we did it and it was an amazing experience that we will never forget. Not only were we able to see my grandfather's brothers and sisters and meet my dad's cousins but we spent hours hearing stories of my ancestors and looking at old family photos. I returned to Madison with a renewed sense of pride and connection to my roots that I haven't felt in a very long time. My husband and I ate McDonald's and Cheetos and Corn Nuts and Twizzlers and in the process deepened our friendship and commitment to each other. And we learned we can sit in a car for 16 hours straight and still laugh at the end of the day. I am immensely lucky to be married to such a wonderful guy.

So here I am, finishing another week on service and still coughing. I see dog hair tumbleweeds all over my house and haven't talked to any of my friends in weeks. Our suitcases have yet to make it back into storage and I have a lingering feeling there is some bill I haven't paid. But I'm so happy to have the life that I have. And spring is coming.