The things we tell ourselves…

I have whiplash from this week.  Last Friday I went to my mailbox and was surprised to see my Peds AI grade sheet three weeks early.  I was even more surprised to see an negative comment on my evaluation after getting nothing but positive feedback. I panicked, my residency application was pending, my Dean’s letter. I was also convinced for a variety of reasons that the comment most likely came from the Chairman of the Peds Dept who had been my attending for three days. at the very end of my rotation. I freaked and drove in the pouring rain to Blacksburg to visit Jessica and cry my bloody eyes out over the ridiculousness. I appealed the comment t of course.  My pent of anxiety of my Sept TO DO LIST: apply to residency, have a hip replacement, learn to walk again for literally the 8th time, turn 25 (Oct 4) and make it back to school by Oct 5th overwhelmed me that night.  I cried and cired the whole drive up there and the first hour of being there. I needed to cry, I needed to for a moment not be strong, to let down the facade that I am holding everything together.

Child Pysch exploded this week with the start of school. We got a new attending and new third years and one of the acting interns went a-wall. We had three sexual abuse cases that nearly had us all in tears.  I got my NICU grade which contradicted my negative comment. I submitted my residency application after agonizing over whether to wait for the comment appeal.

My pain doubled from the stress and from what seems to be ever worsening hip health. Sleep is difficult and I keep having wild dreams from the pysch floor, the surgery and the general state of upheaval of my life.

There was strange good moments like James’ brilliant debut of his two new shows and Corinne’s beautiful new baby boy who seemed to whisper to my soul why that God is faithful and why I signed up for this insane profession.  The comment appeal went through and the comment will not be included in my letters. It will never leave Wake.

By Friday I was just grateful that it was over. That I could just get on with this surgery and the rest of my life. I was sitting waiting for my research adviser when it came.  AN RESIDENCY INTERVIEW INVITATION at Emory in Atlanta, GA. I had heard that peds got early interviews BUT STILL. In four days?!?!?!?!  I sat there and was ecstatically happy and grateful.  Not so much that I had an interview but just that there was forward motion. God saying HERE WE GO.

hold on to your hats. Sept is going to be bonkers.