Almost 2 years since my last post. Shit. Nothing has changed. Still angry. Still loath myself (but now with a new sense of entitlement) and I am still anxiety riddled and stressed as all get out. But we should put this in perspective.
I am a year 2 resident currently completing a residency in OBGYN at a large mid-western hospital. I work over 100 hrs a week, much of which is in a thick fog of sleep deprivation, and I have not spent more than 20 minutes in open daylight in months. But am I content with life? For the most part yes (I think). How can this be?
I think it is that I am too busy to really realize just how fucked my life really is. First of all, for the most part, anybody with a professional degree who works as much as I do either makes a zillion bucks a year or is extremely productive in research or industry somewhere. I am neither of these. I am currently writing this blog sitting on public transport at 5 am. The only people up this early are the homeless and the people that clean the hospital. I barely make minimum wage (my pay is based on a 37.5 hour work week with no call stipend), and I am neither productive in research or industry. Sure I am doing a research project (mandatory in my program) but I have been treading water on that for months avoiding my supervisor at great lengths.
As for industry, please! I can barely find my way home after a call shift let alone create or innovate anything besides a very large espresso order at starbucks (and this is only because they know me so well and correct me when I say it wrong). Plus I am worth more dead than alive thanks to the ever growing burden that is my financial debt.
Secondly, my residency is extremely physically demanding. I wear a pedometer as I wanted to prove to myself that I walk a ton. I clocked 12 miles on call the other night. 12 fucking miles. On call we cover labour and delivery plus ER. Both places are in separate buildings 3 blocks away from each other. Add together 10 deliveries plus 8 or 9 ER consults and your legs get pretty tired. I just love the midnight consult for a pelvic exam. Seriously? You went to medical school right? I no longer feel guilty consulting medicine for high blood pressure or psych for depression. Its all good in the hood son.
So how am I happy like this?
I don’t know if I can answer that.
Maybe it is because I just don’t give a fuck anymore. I have become content running around being busy. I enjoy being in charge and being needed. That sounds superficial, but fuck, so what. Those in glass houses right.
Maybe it is the medication. Effexor has a nice way of glossing over your world. I rarely get angry over things or stressed (there is always the constant stress level, but nothing excessive). If I do it is usually not for long (although this human fucking ashtray next to me is starting to piss me off, like come on, could you smell any worse). But it is the only way to live these days.
If u spend all day pissed about things you can not change you will end up dead. This has its good points and bad points. Good, I don’t let this shit bog me down, bad I sometimes tend to gloss over important things (patients, deadlines appointments).
But as I look at my bus mates here in the light from the street lamps, I feel life could be worse.
AMR
