Well it is official---I am now an MD!! Patients beware--especially starting July 1st--I would suggest you visit a non-teaching hospital, at least for the month of July. But then please come all you want, I gotta learn somehow! :)
Graduation weekend was a lot of fun, but it seemed a bit anti-climatic at the same time. I've been trying to remind myself that I am actually done with medical school. Although I believe we learn throughout life, I am no longer an actual "student" anymore. I have spent 20 years of my life as a student. Weird.
The house drama continues---I think we might actually close next week!---but I am (trying to be) kinda glad---being an MD and house owner all in the same week is a bit overwhelming!
So do I change the name of the blog and just keep on telling my tale? Or do I just put this to rest (already!)?? hmmmm....
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Sadness
Its been a pretty awful week. I am sure some will be upset with this blog, but I have to write it. I guess this makes me selfish in some way, but that is how it goes at times.
We, as a class, were informed that one of our classmates a week from graduation committed suicide. Although we hadn't spoken in a little over 2 years, I knew her well.
Our first year of medical school we became study partners. Unlike me, she was a true genius. Her photographic memory helped with her with graduating high school and college in 6 years total. It made studying really difficult since I was super slow compared to her. But we still made it as fun as possible.
As I got to know her, she began to tell me how hard life really was for her. She was extremely depressed---everyday. She once described it as being unable to hear the birds sing, or kids laugh. She was amazing and could hide it with her wonderful smile when she needed to. But I was deeply worried. Eventually I went to our school counselors about my fears, and was reassured that she was receiving treatment--both therapy and medications. Unfortunately it was these medications she used for her first attempt.
It was the day after spring break. I was pretty sick and took some NyQuil to go to sleep. She called me around 945 pm. NyQuil had done its job--I didn't even hear the phone ring. She didnt come to school the next day. I called her about three times in between classes throughout the day. I got a phone call from the police department at 5pm that evening. She was picked up for a DUI and needed a ride home. I was shocked--she didn't even drink. I went down there and she was a mess--I was told she took her prescription meds and she should not be operating a vehicle. I got her in the car and she confessed she took all the meds at once. I immediately took her to the ED, called her psychiatrist at home, and our closest friends. They met me at the hospital. While she was evaluated, we lied to her and got her parents phone number to tell them what had happened. I am pretty sure that she figured that one out, but she never let on if she was upset. She was admitted to the psych ward for a few days. During that time she blamed me for not answering the phone that night. She wouldn't have taken the pills, if I had just answered. The blame even came from her parents. It was so difficult to have a friend try to end her life, but to get the blame for it was unbearable. I started seeing a psychiatrist at that time.
She called me again at night after she was released. I freaked out. She called just to say hello. No big deal. But I stopped sleeping. I found myself checking my phone throughout the night. I would wander my apartment late at night. I was in a constant worry about how to keep her alive. I was not doing well.
At the time I did what I needed to. I was trying to save myself. I eventually had to sit her down and tell her that if she ever called me late at night again, I would just send a police officer to her apartment because I was so worried she would hurt herself. She laughed at me. But I was very serious. When the blame continued after that conversation, I left the friendship.
Over the next couple of years I worried about how she was doing. But the space between us was too great---I had created a canyon to protect myself and left her (with psychiatry help) alone.
Now that she is dead the guilt has hit again. I know that this is not in any way my fault. But what I feel is completely different--I feel that blaming me makes perfect sense. My feelings and my knowledge are in disagreement. I am devastated by the circumstances. It is entirely possible that if we had remained friends she still would have died--that is not what I feel guilty about. I feel guilty about leaving a friend when I knew that she was not okay. That she was not, by any means, stable. And when I left I was/felt relieved. How sick am I? Would I do it this way again? How angry did I make her then? Before she died?
How do I say I am sorry?
We, as a class, were informed that one of our classmates a week from graduation committed suicide. Although we hadn't spoken in a little over 2 years, I knew her well.
Our first year of medical school we became study partners. Unlike me, she was a true genius. Her photographic memory helped with her with graduating high school and college in 6 years total. It made studying really difficult since I was super slow compared to her. But we still made it as fun as possible.
As I got to know her, she began to tell me how hard life really was for her. She was extremely depressed---everyday. She once described it as being unable to hear the birds sing, or kids laugh. She was amazing and could hide it with her wonderful smile when she needed to. But I was deeply worried. Eventually I went to our school counselors about my fears, and was reassured that she was receiving treatment--both therapy and medications. Unfortunately it was these medications she used for her first attempt.
It was the day after spring break. I was pretty sick and took some NyQuil to go to sleep. She called me around 945 pm. NyQuil had done its job--I didn't even hear the phone ring. She didnt come to school the next day. I called her about three times in between classes throughout the day. I got a phone call from the police department at 5pm that evening. She was picked up for a DUI and needed a ride home. I was shocked--she didn't even drink. I went down there and she was a mess--I was told she took her prescription meds and she should not be operating a vehicle. I got her in the car and she confessed she took all the meds at once. I immediately took her to the ED, called her psychiatrist at home, and our closest friends. They met me at the hospital. While she was evaluated, we lied to her and got her parents phone number to tell them what had happened. I am pretty sure that she figured that one out, but she never let on if she was upset. She was admitted to the psych ward for a few days. During that time she blamed me for not answering the phone that night. She wouldn't have taken the pills, if I had just answered. The blame even came from her parents. It was so difficult to have a friend try to end her life, but to get the blame for it was unbearable. I started seeing a psychiatrist at that time.
She called me again at night after she was released. I freaked out. She called just to say hello. No big deal. But I stopped sleeping. I found myself checking my phone throughout the night. I would wander my apartment late at night. I was in a constant worry about how to keep her alive. I was not doing well.
At the time I did what I needed to. I was trying to save myself. I eventually had to sit her down and tell her that if she ever called me late at night again, I would just send a police officer to her apartment because I was so worried she would hurt herself. She laughed at me. But I was very serious. When the blame continued after that conversation, I left the friendship.
Over the next couple of years I worried about how she was doing. But the space between us was too great---I had created a canyon to protect myself and left her (with psychiatry help) alone.
Now that she is dead the guilt has hit again. I know that this is not in any way my fault. But what I feel is completely different--I feel that blaming me makes perfect sense. My feelings and my knowledge are in disagreement. I am devastated by the circumstances. It is entirely possible that if we had remained friends she still would have died--that is not what I feel guilty about. I feel guilty about leaving a friend when I knew that she was not okay. That she was not, by any means, stable. And when I left I was/felt relieved. How sick am I? Would I do it this way again? How angry did I make her then? Before she died?
How do I say I am sorry?
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Considerations
I like to travel. Roadtrip, long flight, bus--no problem. I like getting all my things situated into the car, plane, bus and then listening to music, reading, sleeping. Just enjoying the ride.
I do not like airports. Its a holding situation for me. I can't really get situated yet because I'm not going anywhere, and as soon as I try to get comfortable, they're gonna call my seat number to board and I'll have to gather everything up. So I sit in this semi-anxious situation, just waiting for them to call me so I can really get comfortable and get a move on to where ever I am going.
I have the same feelings towards buying a house. The inspection process is just like me sitting in the airport. I am so ready to get moved in, get situated, put my towels in the linen closet. But that readiness/anxious feeling may mean that I am over looking serious issues that are going on with the road ahead.
I found out today that the house may need a new roof. The pipes are pretty old as well. The two things I really didn't want to deal with when buying a house. We're talking a huge cost at some point. Or maybe not.
So do I just jump in with the first classers even though I know I will be pushed into economy and possibly out of the plane just because I wanna get on the road so badly? Or should I really stand by, and see if another house will come my way.....
I do not like airports. Its a holding situation for me. I can't really get situated yet because I'm not going anywhere, and as soon as I try to get comfortable, they're gonna call my seat number to board and I'll have to gather everything up. So I sit in this semi-anxious situation, just waiting for them to call me so I can really get comfortable and get a move on to where ever I am going.
I have the same feelings towards buying a house. The inspection process is just like me sitting in the airport. I am so ready to get moved in, get situated, put my towels in the linen closet. But that readiness/anxious feeling may mean that I am over looking serious issues that are going on with the road ahead.
I found out today that the house may need a new roof. The pipes are pretty old as well. The two things I really didn't want to deal with when buying a house. We're talking a huge cost at some point. Or maybe not.
So do I just jump in with the first classers even though I know I will be pushed into economy and possibly out of the plane just because I wanna get on the road so badly? Or should I really stand by, and see if another house will come my way.....
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Growing Up
When you're ready to purchase your first house people have a lot of advice on how to go about it. Truthfully, I've appreciated all of it, because I honestly have no idea what I'm doing. I have a fabulous realtor and, still, no clue on what I'm doing.
The first offer I made on a house was an embarrassing outcome. The way it works is you make up some price you are willing to pay for the property. This is generally less than the asking price. Then they can accept, reject or counter. So I got countered, but it was no where near what I had hoped to pay. So I increased my offer and re-countered. And then it was the big fat REJECTION!
Within 1 day of being rejected, I put another offer on a different house.
Its hard getting rejected when you're used to doing pretty well. I dont want to sound arrogant, but I've worked hard and you begin to feel a bit invincible (until residency starts) once you are matched. This has definitely brought me down.
One part of advice that has been absolutely impossible for me to follow is "do not get attached to the house." The only reason I can come up with is its not really yours til about a month into the process and therefore it can be taken away at ANY moment. I am about to spend a LOT of money (at least in my book) on something---I better well like it, be excited about it, and want it----how the hell do I stay aloof about it?? (maybe some males can respond to this.. ok ok...that was just mean)
So today I await for the counter on the second offer. I have been waiting for 4 days. Literally sitting on my couch. Waiting.
This has been one of the hardest weeks of my life.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
