I've been really upset and stressed recently, on account of future stuff.
So it is in this time that I am so, so grateful for friends and family.
I cannot fathom what kind of emotional nutcase I would be without people.
As much as I pretend that I can handle it all on my own and fake my way through crap, I can't.
That is all.
My family is amazing.
My friends are God-given.
And I am thankful.
Thursday, March 31, 2016
Wednesday, March 30, 2016
Reflection writing
Six word stories. 55 word stories.
Forced bit of "reflection" in my IM rotation.
Some examples of good six word stories: "For sale: Baby shows, never worn."
Regardless, my short medical stories below.
Forced bit of "reflection" in my IM rotation.
Some examples of good six word stories: "For sale: Baby shows, never worn."
Regardless, my short medical stories below.
---
Doctor’s cynical heart. See you soon.
Long days; Fine, give him norco.
---
Fifteen hours in, eyes are tired.
The pager goes off, the nurse says he is complaining.
Heroin user for years, in and out of rehab, leaves AMA.
No, don’t give him anything else.
Beep, beep. The pager again.
Give me something. I’m in pain!
Orders and notes and nineteen other patients.
Fine, give him norco.
Thursday, March 24, 2016
Duty
i believe in duty. i believe in responsibility.
that if my friends for some reason became a nonfunctioning alcoholic, i would tell them. because even if they hate me, that is the duty of a friend.
and vice versa, of course.
if i ever, for who knows that reason, ended up drinking a beer every morning before work or something crazy.
i would hope that my friends would sit me down and shove that fact in my face.
maybe a bit more diplomatically, but still.
to say, i strongly do not condone that. and i will be here to help if at any point you want to stop too. i can't change your life for you. but here some reasons that i am concerned for you. hear me out. and if you don't want to do anything, that is your right. but i have the right as your friend to bring it up periodically without you getting mad. and you have the right to tell me you're not doing anything about it every time i bring it up, and i won't get offended.
and i think a person who would not say the hard things to their friends is not really a friend at all. because that means you don't actually care. and the only thing worth in that friendship is sharing "good moments".
---
i think this carries over for religious things as well.
---
A duty to CARE.
This is where I firmly believe that Christianity has the right of it all: that we have a duty to one another. To care for each other.
The pessimistic me thinks that without that duty, I would not care about anybody at all.
And sometimes I think that nobody in the world cares about anyone but themselves - and potentially their nuclear family.
I think I know what is going on. I am actually offended. Wow. I don't get offended that easily, but I think a sliver of my current emotion is "offended". Because I hold this belief that if we are friends, you would want to know me. And if not, then we are not friends. And then I mentally downgrade whoever as an acquaintance. As if, you don't want to know me? Fine, I don't need to know you either. The least common denominator.
And that's.... that?
---
Do I expect too much in waiting for people to ask about who I am?
am i supposed to lay it out bare to everyone without prompting? is that what most people do????
that if my friends for some reason became a nonfunctioning alcoholic, i would tell them. because even if they hate me, that is the duty of a friend.
and vice versa, of course.
if i ever, for who knows that reason, ended up drinking a beer every morning before work or something crazy.
i would hope that my friends would sit me down and shove that fact in my face.
maybe a bit more diplomatically, but still.
to say, i strongly do not condone that. and i will be here to help if at any point you want to stop too. i can't change your life for you. but here some reasons that i am concerned for you. hear me out. and if you don't want to do anything, that is your right. but i have the right as your friend to bring it up periodically without you getting mad. and you have the right to tell me you're not doing anything about it every time i bring it up, and i won't get offended.
and i think a person who would not say the hard things to their friends is not really a friend at all. because that means you don't actually care. and the only thing worth in that friendship is sharing "good moments".
---
i think this carries over for religious things as well.
---
A duty to CARE.
This is where I firmly believe that Christianity has the right of it all: that we have a duty to one another. To care for each other.
The pessimistic me thinks that without that duty, I would not care about anybody at all.
And sometimes I think that nobody in the world cares about anyone but themselves - and potentially their nuclear family.
I think I know what is going on. I am actually offended. Wow. I don't get offended that easily, but I think a sliver of my current emotion is "offended". Because I hold this belief that if we are friends, you would want to know me. And if not, then we are not friends. And then I mentally downgrade whoever as an acquaintance. As if, you don't want to know me? Fine, I don't need to know you either. The least common denominator.
And that's.... that?
---
Do I expect too much in waiting for people to ask about who I am?
am i supposed to lay it out bare to everyone without prompting? is that what most people do????
Monday, March 21, 2016
Transient
Remember that all things will come to pass.
The good, the bad, the sad.
The tired, the worn, the weary
the joyous, the laughter, the smiles.
What is everlasting, what is there to hold onto.
This is faith,
a part of it, at least.
But emotions? Those are all transient. A fraction of a smile, a half-penny of a grimace.
So remember this then:
The delight you feel now, relish in the feeling because it is here and now.
The sorrow you feel now, remember that it will fade away with time.
In this way. Live for the moment. Live for the future.
The good, the bad, the sad.
The tired, the worn, the weary
the joyous, the laughter, the smiles.
What is everlasting, what is there to hold onto.
This is faith,
a part of it, at least.
But emotions? Those are all transient. A fraction of a smile, a half-penny of a grimace.
So remember this then:
The delight you feel now, relish in the feeling because it is here and now.
The sorrow you feel now, remember that it will fade away with time.
In this way. Live for the moment. Live for the future.
Monday, March 14, 2016
She wipes away tears.
She wipes away tears.
It's tough, this conversation. The radiologist called us this morning and said, there's a mass in the colon. 9 inches from the rectum. Potentially cancer. But we don't know yet. Pathology will tell us soon. We said thanks, hung up, and then went to go tell the daughter.
The facts are easy. This is what it is. This is what we know. These are your options. The delivery is harder. What do you want to do? And when she turns to her father, who is watching and listening to us with that same smile, and asks him what he wants to do. Do you understand?
He responds in half formed thoughts. I feel fine right now, I think. There is something in me? I feel alright right now, alright alright, cancer is bad.
She turns to us and says, well, that's your answer.
And my resident pauses for a second and tells the daughter as gently as possible, the way he is right now, you will have to make the decision.
And she moves her hands helplessly and tries to find the words. And she tells us this.
She has been taking care of this gentle old man. Except she works two jobs and is gone for most of the day. And most of the night. And her sisters can'twon't help. But she told us to put him as DNR/DNI -i am ready to go the sky-, and her sisters called her on the phone to seriously question her intentions of that order. Do not resuscitate. Do not intubate. But she looks at us helplessly. I can't take care of him myself, she says incredibly quietly, speaking down into her hands.
And then she tears up and cries. And the whole time, her father is sitting besides her smiling a little.
She wipes away tears
And he touches her hand.
And we are all quiet for a moment.
----
It's tough, this conversation. The radiologist called us this morning and said, there's a mass in the colon. 9 inches from the rectum. Potentially cancer. But we don't know yet. Pathology will tell us soon. We said thanks, hung up, and then went to go tell the daughter.
The facts are easy. This is what it is. This is what we know. These are your options. The delivery is harder. What do you want to do? And when she turns to her father, who is watching and listening to us with that same smile, and asks him what he wants to do. Do you understand?
He responds in half formed thoughts. I feel fine right now, I think. There is something in me? I feel alright right now, alright alright, cancer is bad.
She turns to us and says, well, that's your answer.
And my resident pauses for a second and tells the daughter as gently as possible, the way he is right now, you will have to make the decision.
And she moves her hands helplessly and tries to find the words. And she tells us this.
She has been taking care of this gentle old man. Except she works two jobs and is gone for most of the day. And most of the night. And her sisters can't
And then she tears up and cries. And the whole time, her father is sitting besides her smiling a little.
She wipes away tears
And he touches her hand.
And we are all quiet for a moment.
----
Sunday, March 13, 2016
Heartstrings
I don't consider myself easily moved. But this certainly brushes against the strings of my heart, and sorrow is the chord that comes from it.
A really gentle Hispanic old man, concern for colon cancer, and also dementia. He is emaciated and literally skin and bones, naked but for a diaper. An overgrown baby, except with age spots on his hand, broken teeth, and years of life behind his eyes. But he grins a large welcoming smile every morning and laughs and tells you he feels well. And today, when we asked if he had any pain, he says no, no, except for my heart.
Chest pain, we ask. Shortness of breath? Does it radiate anywhere?
No, nothing like that. My heart hurts. I am ready to go.
Go?
I am ready to go to the sky.
Ah, I look at him and I can tell that his flesh does not reflect his soul anymore. It is like the body confines him.
The physical body is not who you are.
Saturday, March 12, 2016
Saturday Morning
God, cleanse my heart.
Rejuvenate my soul.
Let me remember what it means to try. To care. To love and yearn. To reach.
I'm fumbling in the dark, I'm struggling with my own fears, I'm trying so hard with so little.
Burdens on the shoulder, burdens of the heart and soul. Would you take them from me if I asked?
Is there rest to be found?
I am weary.
Tell me it is all worth it in the end. Let me remember that the struggle is for something.
It is Saturday morning and the air is cold and crisp, the steam from my tea is warm and fogs my glasses, and my heart is still.
God, I am listening now.
Rejuvenate my soul.
Let me remember what it means to try. To care. To love and yearn. To reach.
I'm fumbling in the dark, I'm struggling with my own fears, I'm trying so hard with so little.
Burdens on the shoulder, burdens of the heart and soul. Would you take them from me if I asked?
Is there rest to be found?
I am weary.
Tell me it is all worth it in the end. Let me remember that the struggle is for something.
It is Saturday morning and the air is cold and crisp, the steam from my tea is warm and fogs my glasses, and my heart is still.
God, I am listening now.
Tuesday, March 8, 2016
Long call
On call till nine.
I am starving. Like. Ravenous. Like, I want to eat a whole pizza. I am salivating at the thought of instant ramen at home. Or Indian food. Oh my gosh I am going to go buy Indian food on the way home.
Ughhh dying.
-edit-
got out an hour early.
went asap to my fav indian restaurant. the extra 15 minutes before getting home is worth it.
so good. hunger is truly the best spice.
the savory-ness, the spices, the salt, the rice, ah my gosh!
I am in almost in rhapsody at how delicious this is!
Little things in life <3
-edit-
got out an hour early.
went asap to my fav indian restaurant. the extra 15 minutes before getting home is worth it.
so good. hunger is truly the best spice.
the savory-ness, the spices, the salt, the rice, ah my gosh!
I am in almost in rhapsody at how delicious this is!
Little things in life <3
Monday, March 7, 2016
Waiting
As a Med student I'm usually trying to stay out of people's way. So having people wait for me to do my exam and talk to the patient is freaking weird.
Sunday, March 6, 2016
tired
i seriously just closed my eyes to blink and then fell asleep for 20 minutes.
i need another weekend off please.
i need another weekend off please.
Friday, March 4, 2016
Wisteria
Oh my gosh.
The wisteria trees have bloomed all around my school and I am in love. If you have never walked by a wisteria tree in bloom, you need to rectify that in your life someday. Gorgeous hanging purple blossoms all over the tree, and the intoxicating sweet scent of florals that you can smell from so many steps away. It really makes me unconsciously smile, even if I'm walking into the hospital at 5 AM.
It is a childhood scent.
The kind that dives straight into memories and half remembered dreams.
It's the memory of riding a purple bicycle around the neighborhood block, hating the feel of the helmet but trying to make my mom happy, enjoying getting baked by the Texas sun and riding fast enough to make a breeze against my skin.
And then stopping at the house that had the beautiful purple flower tree. Inhaling great big breaths to smell it all. Trying to pick a blossom, but a little too scared of the bees. Finally darting in and grabbing a forlorn petal as my prize that I stored in my treasure closet for years until it faded.
Wisteria.
The wisteria trees have bloomed all around my school and I am in love. If you have never walked by a wisteria tree in bloom, you need to rectify that in your life someday. Gorgeous hanging purple blossoms all over the tree, and the intoxicating sweet scent of florals that you can smell from so many steps away. It really makes me unconsciously smile, even if I'm walking into the hospital at 5 AM.
It is a childhood scent.
The kind that dives straight into memories and half remembered dreams.
It's the memory of riding a purple bicycle around the neighborhood block, hating the feel of the helmet but trying to make my mom happy, enjoying getting baked by the Texas sun and riding fast enough to make a breeze against my skin.
And then stopping at the house that had the beautiful purple flower tree. Inhaling great big breaths to smell it all. Trying to pick a blossom, but a little too scared of the bees. Finally darting in and grabbing a forlorn petal as my prize that I stored in my treasure closet for years until it faded.
Wisteria.
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