Saturday, July 20, 2013

...and we have a decision. And some really cool cases at the hospital.

Thank you, Kim, for your encouragement.  Means a ton.  I told my father no again; we want to stay here and be close to family.  I think I'm happy with this decision.  Sure, the ego boost if I were accepted at a Big Name University would be fun.  But the fellowship match is a binding contract; you don't get to choose between multiple acceptances.  The computer algorithm matches your preferences and your program's preferences and that's where you go.

Today is beautiful.  It's about eighty degrees, and sunny, and I'm sitting in my backyard preparing a presentation on a patient with acute GI bleeding.  (Don't worry- I'll spare you all the details!)  The sky is clear blue and it is so peaceful.

I really wish I didn't have to work tomorrow.

Oh, well.  Surrogate is doing well, thank goodness.  She had a course of nitrofurantoin for UTI (or was is asymptomatic?  Either way, she's pregnant, and the guidelines suggest treating.  We are waiting on the AFP triple screen and the nuchal scan.  I'm so incredibly nervous that something will go horribly wrong.  One of my friends who's pregnant the usual way was so excited for me when I just told her (without intending to disclose, but ended up stuck).  I think people who haven't experienced infertility or loss don't understand what a ticking time bomb this seems.

In other news, I may have some fabulous cases at the hospital about which I can't disclose much due to HIPAA.  What I can say is one might involve pneumococcal endocarditis presenting with subdeltoid septic bursitis, and another might involve Klebsiella endocarditis.  (Endocarditis is a heart valve infection.)  it's a future Infectious Disease doc's dream!

Wednesday, July 17, 2013

Little Miracles

Also, I heard my little one's heartbeat courtesy of a recording from yesterday's ultrasound.  It brought tears to my eyes.

Dear Readers: your advice, please! Or, whether or not to unleash the not-so-secret weapon

With kind thanks in advance.

Dear readers, I have a quandary.

I am applying for a fellowship in Infectious Diseases; that is, two years of additional training beyond my residency.

I have been called reasonably intelligent, occasionally even bright, and have decent evaluations.  I have (I think?) good letters of recommendation.  I have strong board scores.

I stand a decent chance of being accepted to stay on at my current institution, and life is wonderful here.  Husband and I live within a brief walk of my parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, etc.  Our neighborhood is charming and we own our home.  And I was always taught that family is the most important thing.  Plus, we may perhaps? have a little one on the way, though I still hesitate to believe it.

Here, then, is the debate: I have a not-so-secret weapon at my disposal.  His name is _____, Division Chief of Infectious Diseases and internationally-renowned expert in the field.  If ____ makes a call, I could go Elsewhere and train and Big Name Universities.  At least, I am told so.  If he tells you to take a candidate, you take the candidate.

Thing is, if you unleash The Division Chief, it is binding.  You rank the Big Name Universities first on your match list.  You can't have someone make a call and then change your mind.

Now, training at a Big Name University might be a life-changing opportunity.  It has been known to Open Doors.  But what if the doors I wish to open are those of a home down the street from my loved ones?  And how would I effect child care if we do have a baby and we live far away from my family?  My family is what is dearest to me in life.


Monday, July 1, 2013

1 July: a day of terror in hospitals across the nation.

That's right -- it's the day yesterday's medical students become today's doctors, still unable to form the word "Doctor" without hesitating.  "Me -- a doctor?" they think.  It's a word that embodies knowledge and confidence, neither of which most interns have or really should have.  Med school can never prepare you enough.

And then there are those of us who suddenly find ourselves the most senior members of the team.  We're third-year residents, meant to know Lots of Stuff and Take Excellent Care of Patients, while Teaching Said Stuff to the eager young minds waiting to lap up our every word.  This would work out so well if we actually knew something worth teaching.

I sure hope that when graduation hits, I'm ready.

My very long day will be chronicled in more detail after I finish my Infectious Disease Fellowship application, due today but not likely to be done until hopefully, maybe, tomorrow.  But it was an interesting one, I promise.

In other news, none of the three hundred students have yet to mention anything about our little hope, so I will keep quiet as well.  I just applied for Surrogate's maternity insurance which was scary as it requires acknowledging this little hope and pretending I am hopeful enough to purchase insurance.  There are still a long 29 6/7 weeks to go.  But all I can do is pray and hope and try to protect myself from attachment, right?

But for now?  Sleep, blessed, beautiful sleep.  I do miss you, dear Bed.