wherever you go, there you are
There must be something about mid-month that has me checking my blog and thinking I should update. Experience is teaching me a little respect for the process and I would now guess that once a month is more likely an update schedule for me. Not that I don't enjoy writing here, but my machine is so slow typing the words feels tiring and forced at times.
But sometimes not, and I like the idea of an older me and/or an older version of the kids we now have getting curious about what I used to sound like. So this was me, spring 2006, at the end of fellowship and holding something very much akin to a Golden Ticket firmly in my hand. No, that's not a metaphor for anything too unseemly - I just received a Fed/Ex with the final terms of agreement for a job in Buffalo that has become too good to refuse.
Today is the day I say goodbye to my medical home for the last 8 years. With 76 days to go until my fellowship formally ends, but after 8 long, frustrating, and often amazing years, today is truly the end of training. The study I write in is deliberately adorned with the products of U.'s and my time here; a synchronicity of degrees, licenses, certifications and of course, all important Boards. I'll admit no small satisfaction looking at them, but mostly they remind me of the resolute [crazed?] optimism that drove us to keep training. I look at these framed trophies of the last decade, shields taken in battle, now mounted as witnesses to a youth now fading and its true, I smile. Which is reassuring, because if we did sacrifice our 20's on an altar, I know it wasn't in vain. We both get to do work that is rewarding and useful, so Thomas the Tank Engine would be pleased with both of us I think.
There's a book in these last eight years, and I've already found its title. The rest will follow, I hope, if for no other reason than this next generation of physicians is waiting for a story that will speak to them. Yeah, they could just watch Scrubs, like we all do, but it can't go on forever. Besides there's only two kinds of doctors in this world: those who really wanted to be architects, and those who really wanted to be writers. At least my half of the guild can always get a late start on the dream job. I also wouldn't mind making a final table at the WSOP, but that's proving tougher than originally anticipated.
But sometimes not, and I like the idea of an older me and/or an older version of the kids we now have getting curious about what I used to sound like. So this was me, spring 2006, at the end of fellowship and holding something very much akin to a Golden Ticket firmly in my hand. No, that's not a metaphor for anything too unseemly - I just received a Fed/Ex with the final terms of agreement for a job in Buffalo that has become too good to refuse.
Today is the day I say goodbye to my medical home for the last 8 years. With 76 days to go until my fellowship formally ends, but after 8 long, frustrating, and often amazing years, today is truly the end of training. The study I write in is deliberately adorned with the products of U.'s and my time here; a synchronicity of degrees, licenses, certifications and of course, all important Boards. I'll admit no small satisfaction looking at them, but mostly they remind me of the resolute [crazed?] optimism that drove us to keep training. I look at these framed trophies of the last decade, shields taken in battle, now mounted as witnesses to a youth now fading and its true, I smile. Which is reassuring, because if we did sacrifice our 20's on an altar, I know it wasn't in vain. We both get to do work that is rewarding and useful, so Thomas the Tank Engine would be pleased with both of us I think.
There's a book in these last eight years, and I've already found its title. The rest will follow, I hope, if for no other reason than this next generation of physicians is waiting for a story that will speak to them. Yeah, they could just watch Scrubs, like we all do, but it can't go on forever. Besides there's only two kinds of doctors in this world: those who really wanted to be architects, and those who really wanted to be writers. At least my half of the guild can always get a late start on the dream job. I also wouldn't mind making a final table at the WSOP, but that's proving tougher than originally anticipated.
posted by Iakaris aka I.A.K. at 7:14 PM
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