Another one bites the dust

This blog ring is kinda weird. I think it's interesting that some blogs are clearly directed toward a readership while my blog entries are just my thoughts growing roots.

I think I'm feeling like you Joe. I got my fourth wedding invite for this summer. Everyone is getting married, saving up their retirement funds, having kids, etc. I'm busting my ass to try to get into a urology residency. It's possible that I might end up in Chicago, New York or even (cringe) Texas. I'm gonna be busting my ass for 6 years or so to live out my dream. I'm pretty happy with the decision. I don't even mind the shriveled balls I'll have to deal with.

I don't know why. After RSVP'ing for this last wedding, I kinda lost my cool. Had a little trouble catching my breath and felt incredibly sad for some reason. You'd think after taking doctoring class after doctoring class where we talk about our feelings and get in touch with our sensitive side, I'd be better equipped to verbalize my emotions. It'd be nice to have some stability in my life. So far, the only things that I'm sure of are that next year I'm gonna have a little less hair and a little more debt.

I guess the only other thing I'm sure of is that I love you guys, I love my family and I love to eat. I'm gonna cruise down the river on a kayak this weekend with the only people up here that help me make sense of my experiences over the past year.

Man Joe, I wish you could've been there with me on the wards this year. There's a magic in the air when a new baby is born and there is nothing but hope and amazement at life. It's the only time I hope my dad cried. It feels great when you help out a patient, get them their meds, and in turn they thank you. I mean, they're really grateful. You can see it in their eyes. There are moments when you'd wish nothing more than for your rambling patient to shut up. You find them incredibly annoying and all you can do is throw up your hands in frustration. There are moments when you take a hit for your resident and you wait for your attending to stop yelling at you. Then you look him straight in the eyes and say, "I'm sorry sir. It don't happen again." I can't describe how cold the air is at 3am, and the feeling of gliding through the air as you walk from the parking lot to the hospital. You've done it in your sleep so many times that you can time the automatic doors to open in a regular rate and rhythm, allowing only the hem of your white coat to brush against the sliding doors as you pass.

The art of medicine is about learning from your experiences. Learning to pick your battles, knowing when to spend a little extra time with a patient, and knowing how to tell the difference between heartburn, heart attack and sometimes simply a broken heart. The heart of medicine is about being willing to search for the difference between heartburn and heart attack on Friday night, even if it means missing a meal with your loved ones. It's about learning to balance our lives and our checkbooks. It's about not being the center of attention when someone passes.

so am I living out my dream? You bet. As a kid did I dream of a job performing rectal exams and placing penile implants? Not really. Sometimes it just feels like I'm always running.

-bender